#Rockefeller centre

[sugaryspicedmilk]

NYC part 2

[dayandnightz]

The Lighting Of The Christmas Tree..

[imperituroamore]

Lil holiday snap of the Rockefeller tree & centre 🎄

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

The "Candy Coated Penitentiary"

"While politically profitable in the short term, the new civil commitment programs faced a number of serious challenges that eventually doomed their ability to deliver on the ambitious promises of Rockefeller and his allies. They would ultimately prove incapable of accomplishing either the custodial or therapeutic goals or satisfying any of the multiple constituencies they endeavored to accommodate. The new program's twin commitments caused tension immediately. In early meetings of the NACC [Narcotics Addiction Control Commission], members, who hailed from distinct institutional backgrounds, clashed over the most basic attributes of the program: Should employees carry batons and badges and be able to give half rations as punishment as was the case in prison? Do patients who run away from the program "escape," as they do from prison, or "abscond," as they would from a mental hospital?" In 1974, a state audit would find that a tension between curative and custodial mission hamstrung its entire performance."

The state's efforts to establish these facilities, colloquially called the "Rockefeller Programs," were plagued from the outset by other logistical, bureaucratic, and political complications. And that was before the drug users arrived. Although the state was determined to get the program running immediately, finding facilities and appropriately trained staff proved difficult. Public support for removing addicts from the streets did not easily translate into welcoming treatment facilities into neighborhoods. Local communities fought fervently to prevent placement of new treatment centers in their neighborhoods, considerably slowing the acquisition of facilities and resulting in many centers locating within commercial and industrial areas, some in repurposed old prisons. In 1967, Rockefeller admitted that "we have not found a single community that did not protest." He continued to explain the need for new centers in terms that were probably not particularly comforting to his audience: 

The investment in this pro- gram by the state is nothing compared to the losses in crime and in terms of murder and fear. What are we going to do with these people? Sacrifices must be made, even if it means a facility comes into your own neighborhood.

One-third of the first 1,200 who were placed in the program had not been arrested for a crime. Half of those in the initial five months presented themselves voluntarily for treatment and the other half were confined against their will, usually after being turned in by a spouse or other family member. The remaining 800 were committed after arrest for a crime and faced up to five years of compulsory treatment.

The conditions residents encountered at NACC facilities solidified their subordinated civic status. Residents were called "patients," but staff controlled visitation policy and surveilled their mail; there were three head counts a day. With no coherent therapeutic philosophy and insufficient staff training, the caliber of care was widely condemned. An in-depth study by the New York Times two years into the program found almost nothing positive to report about the institutions' therapeutic capacities. After a 1968 riot at the Woodward Center (housed in a refurbished prison), the guards won the right to carry clubs on the job. The director insisted, nonetheless, that the guards, who were mostly trained at reformatories and prisons, did lots of "informal counseling." Even people who voluntarily submitted themselves for treatment were led away in handcuffs. One man explained, "I am being treated like an animal in a locked cage." As word of the conditions spread, many of those arrested or committed fought desperately against being certified as an addict through procedural challenges or hearings, especially if the “treatment” length exceeded the criminal sentence for their crimes.

When legal avenues were exhausted, residents of the Rockefeller Programs often took drastic measures to escape. According to government reports, more than 7,000 of the 24,000 committed to NACC programs absconded, either from residential programs or aftercare. Of the departing residents placed in aftercare between March 1969 and March 1970, only 19 percent were still enrolled nine months later; the remaining 81 percent relapsed, dropped out, or were rearrested. Such reports reflected the Rockefeller Programs’ highly permeable boundaries and emboldened program critics who charged that the state failed to isolate drug users from the community.

While many drug users endeavored to escape the new treatment programs, others used the state’s commitment to rehabilitation to maneuver within the criminal justice system to affect their fates. Some arrested for drug offenses often wrote to the governor, pleading for him to intervene in their case and asserting their status as addicts to gain entry into treatment programs or evade prison. One woman wrote to Rockefeller when her son was diverted to prison after being certified as an addict. After fighting with various officials to have her son committed to an NACC facility, the mother was finally able to reach someone in the governor’s office who intervened on her behalf. Although her son was transferred from prison to a treatment facility that was itself housed in an old prison, she wrote to the governor about her relief at the change of venue and her gratitude to the man who had helped her. She also challenged the state’s individualized response to drug use and questioned the criminalization of drug users:

Governor Rockefeller, do you think the time will ever come when legislators, society, and government will accept part of the blame, and realize that drug addiction is a great social disease, not a crime? . . . Surely, the hundreds of thousands of our young people involved in today’s “drug culture” cannot possibly all be criminals. . . . By expressing my views, Governor Rockefeller, I do not wish to imply that my son is an innocent in the woods. I am not, unfortunately, naïve enough to believe that anyone, other than himself injected that heroin filled needle into his arm—or that anyone forced him to [do] things he may have done to obtain drugs. I am inclined to believe that he can be saved; and that rather than a criminal, he is merely a victim of his times.

In arguing that her son, although responsible for his own actions, suffered from a “social disease,” this mother attributed drug use to the broader contemporary milieu, rejecting narratives of individual pathology or contamination by other addicts. Her letter rhetorically embedded the addict back into society, held out the possibility of redemption, and, most emphatically, rejected the brand of criminality. NACC policy also inspired people who were not narcotic users to seek therapeutic custody themselves. One man wrote to the governor to protest the failure of the state to commit any resources or legal allowances for alcoholics. The author began his letter by associating himself with the more socially marginalized category of drug addict to plead for access to treatment:

I, sir, am an “addict” of a sort, also a criminal, substantiated by numerous convictions and most of my adult life spent in prison, but also and most important sir, I am a alcoholic, for over 20 of my 36 years. I have never committed a crime while sober, I have never hurt, injured or assaulted anyone in anyway in my entire life . . . I need professional help, rather than punishment and prison, the psychiatrist of this institution is in agreement— but there is no place for the judge to send me, no alcohol program for the criminal alcoholic, no hospitals . . . I sir humbly pray for some help, some understanding, some understanding and intervention, from someone who cares, for someone to step forward and prevent a bigger crime from being committed against me than I ever committed against society.

By juxtaposing his crimes to the state’s crimes against him, the author flipped the conventional narrative about societal victimization. Instead of the alcoholic offending society, society and the state failed alcoholics by neglecting to build institutions that addressed their circumstances.

Contrary to the state’s emphasis on the personality, drug users often depicted job training and education as integral to their vision of rehabilitation. A veteran who became addicted to heroin after his nervous breakdown in battle explained, “A state prison term would be of no help to me. I want to help myself.” Reflecting the growing consensus that prisons served little rehabilitative function, he asserted a claim, as a certified addict, to treatment:

There are stipulations [that allow treatment instead of prison]. A program where I will be able to finish school and learn a trade. A program where I can receive the therapy that I need so bad.

While letter writers mostly approached Rockefeller as supplicants and rarely claimed a “right to drug treatment,” some endeavored, like this man, to harness the state’s rehabilitative ambitions. Many probably just hoped to minimize the negative consequences of engagement with the state, but others may have genuinely hoped that government could help catalyze a positive personal transformation. These individual letters reveal drug users’ active engagement with the struggles over defining the causes of and appropriate responses to addiction. Though many found little of value in the Rockefeller Programs, the state’s therapeutic commitment provided drug users more discursive space than criminalization. And many seized on that space to build and gain access to programs that more effectively addressed their circumstances."

- Julilly Kohler-Hausmann, Getting Tough: Welfare and Imprisonment in 1970s America. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2017. p. 44-49.

[daily-lego-sets]

LEGO Architecture:

Rockefeller Centre

Set: 21007

2010

Pieces: 240

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Ice Skating | Juraj Slafkovský

wc. 2.6k

four times you go ice skating with Juraj and the one time you actually fall

Four 

“Will you please tell me where we’re going?” you beg the young Slovak as he covers your eyes, weaving in and out of the crowd and leading you closer to your unknown destination. 

“We’re almost there,” he promises and you roll your eyes but smile while he continues to lead you. 

“Ready?” he asks, stopping the two of you and leaning close so you can hear him. You nod and when Juraj finally drops his hands, you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. 

You stand at the edge of Rockefeller Center, the rink lit up by Christmas lights, a gorgeously decorated tree acting as a backdrop to the whole scene. You watch as families skate together, couples holding hands and exchanging soft lovelorn looks at each other. You turn to Juraj and he smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Are we ice skating?” you ask, the location finally truly dawning on you. 

“Uhm, yes?” he answers unsure. 

“If I slip on the ice, it’s totally your fault,” you say, holding up an accusing finger towards your best friend. 

“I’ve got you princezná. I won’t let you fall.” 

Juraj leads you over to the counter and rents two pairs of skates. You grab a seat at the bench and Juraj laces his skates up. You pull yours on as well, attempting to pull the laces tight but ultimately failing. Juraj watches with soft heart filled eyes, adoration clear in his features. 

“moja láska,” he murmurs and your eyes flicker over to him. “Do you need help?” 

You nod shyly and Juraj smiles widely, bending down in front of you on one knee and pulling the laces tight. His hands work on their own accord, his mind wandering to a scene where he’s on one knee for a different reason, asking you a question and praying you say yes. 

“Juraj?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his face and watching as he snaps himself out of the trance he’s in. 

“All done,” he smiles, standing and offering his hand to you. 

You take it, instantly wobbling awkwardly on the skates and the both of you share a shy smile. Juraj helps you over to the entrance of the rink and steps in with ease. He takes both your hands and helps you onto the rink where you look at him with fear filled eyes. 

“I got you princezná,” he reminds you and you smile nervously. 

You take a step and your heart flips, the unfamiliar territory scaring you more than it should. Juraj skates backwards with ease and you can’t help but admire the way he glides on the ice. 

With your focus on him, you’re able to calm down and look around you at the New York City skyline. Your face lights up as you look at the perfectly decorated tree, the couples and families skating around you with smiles on their faces and laughter filling the air. 

Juraj can’t help but think you look utterly ethereal. 

“Think you can loosen your grip now?” Juraj jokes and when you look back towards him the glint in his eye makes your heart race. 

Three

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Juraj asks, putting away the last dish and turning towards you. 

“Not that I can think of. Why?” 

“It’s family skate at the rink tomorrow and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” 

Juraj’s question shocks you a bit. Family skate was usually the guys who are married and those with kids, sometimes the guys with their girlfriends or the guys just coming to stop by and say hi. 

“But I’m not family?” is the only thing you can think to say at this moment and Juraj smiles like you’re missing the whole point of it. 

“Princezná, you’re more important than family,” he murmurs and your eyes search his and find genuine love in them. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Juraj picks you up the next day and you head over to the Bell Centre for the family skate. He grabs you an extra pair of skates and is in the middle of tying them for you when Josh Anderson walks by. 

“Don’t know how to tie your skates darling?” he jokes and when he stops near you you jokingly shove him away. 

“Fuck off Andy,” you quip and you watch as both him and Juraj collapse into giggles. 

Juraj finishes tying your skates and with a tap to your thigh you’re standing and wobbling awkwardly all over again. This time it’s a bit easier, you can at least walk towards the ice without too much help but when you’re on the ice, you’re clutching Juraj’s hands again like your life depends on it. 

“(y/n)! I’ve lapped you three times in the past 2 minutes,” Kaiden calls out to you and you let go of Juraj to flip him off. 

“Let’s go grandma!” Cole joins and you shoot him a glare. 

“Ignore them,” Juraj reminds you and you smile as you look back over at him. 

He starts to instruct you on how to push off and skate forward and you hang on his every word. He lets go of one of your hands and you carefully push off, gripping his hand tightly. 

“You’re doing it!” Juraj cheers and your heart flushes at his praise. 

Juraj’s teammates and their families watch the two youngsters with soft gazes, thinking the scene was adorable. 

“Are they dating?” Josh’s girlfriend turns to ask and Josh smiles, shaking his head. 

“Not yet,” he says, slightly rolling his eyes but happy to see you and Juraj so close. 

Two 

“Come on Jakey!!” you scream and Juraj laughs lightly next to you. 

“Oh be quiet,” you joke, shoving him as you sit down. 

Your little brother has been begging you to bring your famous hockey playing best friend (his words not yours) to one of his hockey games. You finally found a day where Juraj was free and Jake was playing a game and dragged your best friend along with you. Jake was playing well, but his team was still losing and with the final ring of the bell, the game ends 2-1. 

“Come on,” you say, grabbing Juraj’s hand and pulling him along to the locker room. 

You wait outside, greeting other teammates of your brother and their families, until your brother finally makes his way out. You look him over and see that he’s still wearing his skates but has changed out of the rest of his gear. 

“Buddy, what are you doing?” you ask when Jake finally greets you and Juraj. 

“Can we stay and skate?” he asks nervously and you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips. 

“Of course.” 

You and Juraj grab a pair of rental skates each before heading out on the ice. Juraj sticks by your side for the beginning before Jake pulls him away to ask for tips on his skating. You cling to one of the walls, watching as Juraj stands in front of your brother and explains his foot positioning. Jake listens patiently, something he wasnt always good at, and butterflies decide to kick up in your stomach at the sight of the two of them. 

“Ready?” you hear Juraj ask and you watch as Jake nods and the two stand side by side. 

Juraj counts down from three and one he hits one, the two of them rush off across the ice in an impressive blur of speed. You watch as Jake takes the advantage and you know deep down, Juraj is letting him win in their little race. Your smile grows even wider at the thought, Juraj purposefully letting the young boy win. 

“Prekliatie, Jake you’re faster than me,” Juraj says, dropping his hands onto his knees and breathing heavily to show how “tired” he was. 

“I think you should replace Juraj in the line up tomorrow Jakey,” you call and the two boys turn and smile at you. 

Juraj grins, tossing a wink in your direction before heading off to skate with your younger brother again. 

One 

How and why your best friend decided to rent out an entire sports complex for her birthday party will continue to remain a mystery to you. She could have gone anywhere in Montreal but she decided on a place with ice skating, laser tag, arcades, golfing, bowling, and more for her party. 

Naturally, you dragged Juraj with you, knowing that you would probably only know your best friend at this party and didn’t want to spend the time alone. The two of you got there early, greeting your best friend and her boyfriend at the entrance of the sports center. 

“Happy birthday!!” you greet her excitedly, leaning forward to hug your best friend. 

“Come on!” She says, dragging you into the building, Juraj and her boyfriend trailing behind. “I wanna go ice skating.” 

The four of you grab rental skates and head out onto the ice together. Just like before, Juraj is slow and careful with you, helping you to skate around the rink. You make it a lap and a half in before you see your best friend exiting the rink with her boyfriend behind her. 

“Hey!” you call out and she turns and smiles sheepishly. 

“Sorry!” she yells back before rushing away. 

You roll your eyes and turn back to Juraj with a look that says ‘can you believe her?’ and the younger boy just shrugs and smiles at you. 

“Well, as long as we’re here,” you say, trying your best to slow down on the ice. “Wanna teach me how to stop?” 

“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” he asks and you lean forward, swatting at his arm. 

“Of course I am!” you declare but quickly lose balance, reaching out for him and he chuckles as you regain your balance. 

“Anyway,” you murmur and Juraj laughs lightly under his breath. 

He turns on his skates, holding his hands out to you which you happily take and he smiles encouragingly at you. 

“So, the way you stop is on your edges,” he explains, showing the sides of his skate and digging them into the ice so he stops moving. 

“If you’re skating forward, you want to turn your body and push your outside leg out and lean.”

He takes a second to show you what he means, letting go and skating for a second before stopping on his edges. You nod when he pauses, committing his movements to memory. 

“You try,” he tells you. 

You take a nervous deep breath, skating forward a couple of inches before attempting to come to a stop before Juraj. Your legs however shake too much beneath you and you start to fall. Juraj is quicker, catching your arms and hauling you up into them. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, looking up at him and it strikes you how close the two of you are. 

“All good,” he replies, his arms coming to move around your waist. 

Your eyes search his, heat blooming throughout your body and for a moment the two of you simply gaze at each other, uncertain what to do next. 

“Are you two coming or what?” 

You both turn to see your best friend waving you over and you sigh, thinking how close yet how far you were from making a move. 

“Let’s go.” 

And One 

You swear it’s been weeks since you saw Juraj at your best friend’s birthday party. Therefore, you were ecstatic when he called and asked if you could pick him up from practice so the two of you could hang out afterwards. You show up a little later than practice ends, knowing Juraj’s tendency to stay late and work with one of the coaches while everyone has already left the ice. 

You make your way through the back and up towards the tunnel, greeting those you see along the way. Just as you’re heading up to the bench, you pass Martin St. Louis and he greets you with a warm smile. 

“Always good to see you darling,” he tells you and you smile shyly. “Juraj is still on the ice if you’re looking for him.” 

You smile and thank him before walking up and out onto the bench. Marty is right, Juraj stands a few feet away from the goal, practicing shot after shot and you stand there for a moment and simply take in his form. His love for the game and determination to get better at it every day was one of the many reasons you had grown impossibly in love with him. He put 110% effort into everything he did and you admired that kind of work ethic in him. 

“Looking good 20!” you yell out and Juraj turns around on the ice, grinning madly when he sees you standing at the bench. 

“Sorry,” he says, skating over to you. “Pretty sure this is a closed practice.” 

“Come on. Grab some skates and get out here.”

“Juraj,” you whine and he turns those big brown eyes towards you. The ones that are impossible to say no to. 

“5 minutes? Please? Just wanna spend some time with you on the ice,” he murmurs.

You sigh quietly and Juraj instantly tells you where to grab some extra skates. Your heart pounds as you replay his words in your head. You can’t help the smile that crops up on your lips as he ties your skates and helps you out onto the ice. Somehow, Juraj was always taking care of you, a trait you so loved about him and prayed stayed with him. 

As always, Juraj starts off with holding your hands making sure you’re comfortable first before letting go and skating by your side with practiced ease. The two of you exchange small talk as you skate and Juraj’s heart fills with pride realizing he was the one who taught you how to skate. The one who has made sure you won’t fall. The one you’ve trusted. 

He moves to skate backwards in front of you, grinning like he has just won the lottery. 

“What?” you ask, his gaze making you flustered. 

“You’re doing amazing,” he compliments and your body flushes in warmth at his praise. 

“Well thank you,” you say and just as you’re about to add on that it’s all thanks to him, your skate hits a rough patch of ice. 

You instantly lose your balance, a small shriek escaping your lips as you fall forward. Your hands instantly reach out for him and Juraj is quick to react, catching you and hauling you up into him like he did so many weeks ago. 

He forces the two of you to a stop, your hands coming to rest feebly against his chest while his arms stay wrapped around your waist. You look up, a sheepish smile on your face as Juraj sports a self righteous grin on his face that makes you laugh. 

“Spoke too soon, huh?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“Oh shut up,” you murmur. 

“Gladly,” he hums. 

He leans down and finally connects the two of you, lips molding in perfect unison as you press against each other on the cold ice. You’re thankful for the grip Juraj has on you because your knees are suddenly weakened by his lips on yours. You break apart for air and Juraj grins down at you and you take a deep breath to control the happy laughter that wants to break free from you.

“Wanna keep skating?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“No, I think it’s time for us to head home.” 

“Whatever you say moja láska,” he says, kissing the side of your head and leading the two of you off the ice.

[cameronspecial]

Little Subway Things

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe and Y/N like each other, but haven't defined their relationship and Rafe is ready to take the next step.

A/N: Inspired by something I saw on the subway once. It was cute.

Masterlist

So far, New York is everything Y/N expected it to be. The tall towering buildings give her a sense of claustrophobia not experienced in the open skyline of the Outer Banks. She smells new, often familiar with some sort of bodily expulsion, scents that remind her that she isn’t the first person to have explored this area of land. The people are exactly like she sees on the screen; always in a hurry to get somewhere unknown. Yet, despite this short experience not surprising her, she is still engrossed with the city. She and Rafe have been here for three days now and they’ve been to most of the sites already. The 9/11 memorial. Rockefeller Centre. The Empire State. The Brooklyn Bridge. The Statue of Liberty. Central Park. All the historical landmarks she’s wanted to see. They’ve been moving from place to place via the driver Rafe hired for their trip. Now, that they are slowing down in their activities, Y/N gets to experience something she’s never got to do in the Outer Banks. The island barely has a transit system, let alone a subway, so the girl is curious about the idea of travelling underground on a train. Rafe doesn’t understand her excitement, but this trip is all about her and he would do anything for her happiness. 

She bounces on her feet as Rafe pushes in the information on the kiosk’s screen. He slides his card in and quickly removes it when prompted. The screen displays a reminder to get the MetroCard. He holds out his hand in the direction of the card, telling her she can take it. Her hand snatches it and holds it against her chest. He smirks at his girlfriend with a shake of his head. His arm wraps around her shoulder to pull her into his side. They get to the turnstile and he takes the card from her hand. He tries swiping it, yet the machine seems to reject his attempt. She waits patiently in front of the bars for it to work. Eventually, she gets nervous from the stares of the city’s natives. “Baby, why don’t you let me try?” she suggests. Rafe could be considered the human embodiment of machoism, except all he wants is to get out of this public place. So he sighs and hands over the card to her. 

Her smile is small and it reassures him. She steps away from the gate, allowing Rafe to take her place. Once she slides the thin rectangle through the machine, the bar finally moves and lets him through. Y/N repeats the process, so she can join him. He intertwines their hands and navigates her to their platform. As they wait for the train, her back faces the track while she peers upward to talk to her boyfriend. Wanting to be out of here, his eyes dart to the screen that tells him how long until the next train. “So we are going to the pizza place now, and I was thinking maybe we can go to the all-romance bookstore?” she wonders. He looks down at her with an arched brow, “You don’t read tho, Cupcake.” “I know. The place looks aesthetic though and maybe romance books will get me into it,” she shrugs. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” Having been on the subway a few times before when he visited the city, he knows the signs that the train is coming. Y/N seems to be oblivious to the slight rumble of the floor and even though she is behind the yellow safety line, Rafe grows worried she isn’t far enough. The subway approaches fast and he instinctively reaches out to tug her into his chest. She bumps into him, turning in his arm to watch their transportation zoom by. His leathery-scented cologne fills her senses and she takes it in. He sighs at her content, gently shoving her onto the now-open train. 

They can’t find a seat once there so his hand rests on her waist while the other tightens around one of the poles above to keep them stable. She squeezes against him in the packed environment and looks up at him with adoration in her eyes. The little thing he does to keep her safe always melts her heart. “I love you, Baby,” she whispers. He grins down at her and presses his lips against her forehead, “I love you too, Cupcake.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[nicoline1998enilocin]

My idea is:

Tony and the reader were high school sweethearts, and they loved each other very much, but she went to college in another country, and they had to separate 😔 but they never stopped loving each other... a few years later, she returns to live in the United States and they bump into each other in a coffee shop or something, they recognize each other, have a coffee and a long talk together, the flame of love burns in their eyes and he asks her out on a date... they go out to dinner, spend the night together 😏 and promise never to separate again. A few more years showing them married and with children 🩷

I love your fluff and smut very much

Falling in love again

PAIRING | Tony Stark x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.2K

SUMMARY | You've been living abroad for almost a decade, and when you find yourself back in New York, you also find yourself in touch with the man you thought you had said goodbye to forever all those years ago. When the flame reignites, the two of you never let go again and finally live the life you have always dreamt of.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Smut [ Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie ]

A/N | Thank you so much sweet Nonnie, this request melted my heart, and I can't wait to hear what you think of it! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and if you ever have another request, don't hesitate to let me know 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist

The sight of the city you grew up in is odd but, at the same time, so familiar. You're walking through the streets of New York again after being away for almost a decade to go to college in the UK. You are entirely in your element as tiny snowflakes start falling, and the city slowly starts to get coated in a white layer.

The first place you go to after not being here for so long is the place you love the most and have the most memories: the giant Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. What you did not expect, however, is to run into someone who once upon a time meant more to you than anything in this universe.

You're standing in line at a hot chocolate cart so you can warm up a little bit since the snow is starting to pick up. You adjust your jacket and scarf slightly when you suddenly hear your name being called from a distance.

You don't need to look over to see who it is because you recognize that voice from anywhere, and you're delighted you get to hear it once more. ''Tony? Is it you?'' you ask, and a wide grin appears on your face as he approaches you.

''What are you doing back in New York? I thought we'd lost you forever to the charming people of the UK,'' Tony joked, and you couldn't help but feel like nothing had changed in all those years you have been gone.

''I just missed New York; it never quite felt like home, so I have officially moved back,'' you tell him, and then it's your turn to get your hot chocolate.

''Can I get two peppermint hot chocolates, please?'' you ask, and Tony smiles wide. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and you realize you've never stopped loving the man next to you.

''Let me get them,'' Tony says and you agree. You give him a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you, and you see the blush spreading across his face at the feeling, which confirms your suspicions.

''Come on, let's go somewhere we won't get snowed in,'' he offers, and you happily walk with him while bringing up old memories. Before you know it, you've ended up at your apartment building since you live near Rockefeller Centre.

''Did you want to come in to catch up? This is where I live,'' you say, and he does. Opening the door and leading him into your apartment feels like coming home for Tony.

''I still can't believe how it feels like coming home, even though I've never been here, and I haven't seen you in years,'' he chuckles, and you smile widely at his compliment.

''Well, having you here with me makes it a whole lot better, and the fact that it's Christmas finishes it all off for me,'' you tell him, and the Christmas joy is pretty much leaking out of your pores.

''Do you still drink the same tea as in high school?'' you ask, and Tony nods while giving you a smile that warms your insides through and through.

When the tea is made, you sit down next to Tony on the couch, and without thinking about it, he puts his hand on your thigh, just like all those years ago. Like nothing has ever changed.

The two of you talk for hours and hours on end, talking about everything you've missed out on over the years until it is finally time for Tony to go home.

''It was great to catch up with you, and I would love to see you again,'' he starts as he's at the door, and you nod.

''I'd love that too, Tony,'' you say as you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek, and a thank you for everything, for not making your Christmas so lonely.

''How about dinner on New Year's Eve? Maybe we can even ring in the New Year together,'' he offers, and you see a glint of mischief in his eyes.

''Wouldn't have it any other way,'' you say, and with one last hug, he returns to his own house, and you're left with a rapidly beating heart, a lip that's almost raw from biting it to keep in your squeals, and an ache between your legs that only he can resolve.

It's New Year's Eve, and you're getting ready for dinner with Tony. He texted you to be prepared at 8 P.M., so that's exactly what you're going to do, and your outfit is already laid out, ready for you to wear.

You've taken a shower and slipped into a black lingerie set you chose to make Tony go crazy for. The two of you may have been in love for all those years, but your first time together will be exceptional in every single way.

Your makeup consists of a red smokey eye to compliment your dress and a nude lip to ensure you don't overpower the look. Your hair is put up in braids with a half-bun, letting the rest fall over your shoulders.

All that is left is slipping into your red velvet dress and putting on your black heels, which is perfect timing because Tony will soon take you to the restaurant.

He has always been punctual, and today is no different; at precisely 8 P.M., he knocks on your door. You open it with a big smile to see Tony standing in front of you in a black three-piece suit tailored to perfection.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look him up and down, his hair styled in his usual messy hairstyle, but even with the suit, it looks like it belongs and doesn't look out of place.

''Hi, Gorgeous,'' Tony says as he takes you in, your long legs underneath a red dress, your makeup complimenting the dress, and your accessories matching each other perfectly.

''Hi,'' you say shyly at the nickname, and he holds his hand for you to join him. You take it, and you can't help but think about how warm his hand is, sending a shiver down your spine at the touch.

The drive to the restaurant is short despite all the traffic, and you arrive on time for your reservation. The hostess shows you to a table on the second floor, with perfect sight of the fireworks later that night.

You two picked up your conversation right where you left off, and over dinner, there was a lot of laughter, longing looks back and forth and touches here and there. When there were a few minutes left until midnight, he guided you to a balcony where you had an even better view of the fireworks.

He came to stand next to you while handing you a glass of champagne, and his hand found its place on your waist, sending a shiver down your spine.

''I can't believe we found each other again on Christmas day; I can't help but think it was a sign from the universe,'' you tell Tony as you turn to him.

''Hm-hmm, the timing couldn't have been better. Speaking of which, it is almost time to ring in the new year,'' he says, and your heartbeat quickens, and you feel your cheeks getting warmer with anticipation.

You hear people counting in the distance, but it is such a faint noise that it could never have been there. Tony's hand cups your cheek, and he brings your face to his, a dull roaring in your ears as you close your eyes, and he kisses you when the clock strikes midnight.

His soft pink lips capture yours in the sweetest, most sensual kiss the two of you have ever shared, and it seems to go on forever. When you pull away, you have a slight grin on your lips, unable to keep it from happening.

This kiss awakened a fire within you that never really went away, but while it had been a teeny flame for years, it was now a full-on fire that made your blood feel like lava.

''Please promise never to let me go again,'' you whisper as you look deep into Tony's eyes. he kisses you in response, which makes your knees buckle, and he has to hold you up.

''Everything okay there?'' he asks, and you try to laugh it off, but you know it's useless. Tony is well aware of what's happening and can't wait any longer.

''I need you, Tony,'' is all you say before he takes you to his house, and when you're there, the two of you don't waste time going to the bedroom. He has a perfect oversized couch, as you're getting very impatient.

He strips you out of your clothes in record time, and his own follows right after as he lays you down on the couch.

''Are you sure about this? Because after this, I'm never letting you go,'' Tony asks, the irises of his eyes almost completely taken over by his pupils out of pure lust.

''I'm sure, Tony. Please make me yours,'' you whine, and he does, not wasting any time. He lines his hard cock with your entrance before slowly pushing in, your back arching at the stretch as he slides home.

Moans leave both your lips, but as soon as his lips brush against yours, you attach them, drinking in each other's sounds when he is buried completely.

''Jesus, you feel so good wrapped around my cock,'' Tony groans out while your fingernails scratch his back to get some grip on what's happening. You feel your mind slowly slipping from you, Tony being the only thing you can think about.

''P-please,'' you whisper, and with that, Tony sets a slow pace, trying to make you feel as good as possible for as long as possible. He keeps hitting your sweet spot, and within no time, you feel your orgasm washing over you as your fingers have found your clit.

''F-fuck, Tony, make me cum,'' you pant; he does, as he picks up his pace, this time chasing his high.

''Gonna pump you so full you're gonna be leaking with my cum,'' he says, and after a few more pumps, he makes true to his promise. Long ropes of cum shoot into you, and not long after, you cum again, too, making his seed drip out of you.

''You look so good with my cum leaking out of you,'' Tony says before he uses his fingers to shove it back in, making sure it all stays in.

After that, Tony takes you to the bedroom, where you repeatedly make each other fall apart until the morning sun rises.

You get a few hours of sleep, and when you wake up, you're expected to find Tony, but instead, you're met with an empty side of the bed and the smell of breakfast in the kitchen.

As you get up, you grab one of Tony's shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs before walking to the kitchen and greeting the man you love more than anything in this universe.

''Good morning, Gorgeous,'' he says as you walk into the kitchen with your messy hair. You're glad you removed your makeup before falling asleep; otherwise, you would have been a mess.

When you're next to him, you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his arm as he fries some eggs for breakfast.

''Thank you for everything,'' you say, and your heart is filled with joy now that you have the love of your life back.

''I should thank you for walking back into my life like you did,'' he says as he plants a soft kiss on your lips, leaving you smiling like a lovesick idiot.

''I love you,'' you whisper, closing your eyes as you rest your head again.

''I love you too,'' Tony responds before putting the egg on a plate.

''So, you hungry?'' he jokes, and you can't help but smile at his idiotic jokes, but you would not trade them for anything.

You're in the kitchen preparing some vegetables for the barbecue you and Tony are hosting for the Avengers, their other halves, and their children now that the two of you have bought a bigger house to accommodate the little ones growing inside you.

Tony is outside with the Avengers, and you look out the window; seeing how thrilled he is now makes you happy, too. You've finally gotten the life you have always dreamt of living together.

A few years ago, he proposed, and not even six months later, you were married, your first child on its way not long after. Now you're pregnant with kids 3 and 4, expecting twins.

''What are you dreaming about, Gorgeous?'' Tony asks as he walks into the kitchen, unable to be away from you for too long.

''You,'' is all you say before he pulls you in for a kiss. Your daughter Morgan and your son Jonas are playing in the garden with Clint's children, and all the Avengers are enjoying themselves.

''Life couldn't be any better if we've tried,'' he says, his hands finding their favorite place, your stomach.

''Life is perfect now,'' you say as you lean against him while looking outside. If you had known this would happen, you would have returned years ago instead of staying away for so long.

[larakb117]

LONDON ADVENTURE

Joseph Quinn & female y/n

Summary: Just smutty smut with Joe & female y/n.

Content warning: rpf, smut (18+), oral (female & male receiving), fluff

Part 12

The next few days were packed with appointments for Joe. You attended his Tonight Show appearance and actually got to know Jimmy Fallon himself. He was a funny and polite guy, introducing himself to you the moment you and Joe arrived at the NBC studios, right after you had went on top of that building: Rockefeller Center. The view from up there was mindblowing. Looking at Central Park, the Empire State Building and the stunning One World Trade Centre in the background let goosebumps run down your whole body.

The tonight show was really fun, a newcomer band performed, you were able to sit in the crowd right at the front. A few minutes before the show officially started some scattered seats got filled with some more people. You got a glimpse at one of them, who wore a Joseph Quinn shirt, crying in her seat. Joe sat in his seat, answered Jimmys questions and just looked so handsome. They both played Mad Lip Theatre together, which was hilarious and actually one of your favorite challenges they do on the show, so it was pretty cool to see it live. After they had finished filming the show, you were guided back to Joes backstage room. You rushed into his arms as soon as you stepped into the room: “Babe, you were amazing!”, Joe hold you close and kissed your forehead. “Thanks, love.” His hands rubbed your back up and down. You looked up to him, he stood really straight while you kind of sank into his arms, that’s why your little height difference multiplied by, what felt like, 5. Joe hold you for a couple of minutes. “Wanna grab something to eat?” You nodded and loosened the tight grip on his upper body.

Just some streets downtown from the NBC Studios you and Joe took a seat outside of one off the restaurants on the side of the street. Like always Joe hold your hand with his, they laid right in the middle of the table between you. After a bit of chatting and eating the food you had ordered you just sat their together and watched the most diverse people walking by. Suddenly one of those persons stopped rapidly and looked at Joe in disbelief once she perceived him. “Oh my god, you are Joseph Quinn!” Joe smiled shyly and ran his hand through his hair: “Yeah.”, he simply said. The girl chuckled nervously and stared at Joe for a moment. “You want to take a picture or something?”, Joe obviously tried to break the awkward silence between them. “Oh, yes. Hahaha!”, the girl laughed and her face turned red immediately. Joe stood up, laid his hand on her shoulder and they took a selfie. “What`s your name darling?”, Joe asked. “I´m Cara.”, she answered, shaking because of her tension. “Can I hug you?”, Cara asked. Joe went straight in, and hugged Cara. It was a long hug, definitely distant but you still felt a little sting in your chest. He also rubbed her back, not like he did with you, but still, the little sting was there. Joe broke the hug and sat back down at the table: “Have a lovely day, Cara!”, he winked at her and waved, when she turned around and continued her walk.

Joe looked at you: “You okay?”, he obviously had recognized your nervous hand scratching, that you always did when you felt uncomfortable. He tried to reassure you with a tiny smile and a little hand squeeze as he took your hand again. “Yeah, yeah…”, Joe did not believe you for sure. He knew exactly what was going on, you could see it in his eyes. Just a few days with him, but you already knew each other that well. “D´you know what? We should get to the hotel now.” He cheekily smiled at you now. You immediately understood. The sting was gone. Joe chuckled, grabbed your arm and ran to the next available cab with you.

The moment the backdoor of the cab got closed and Joe had told the driver the address of the hotel, he attacked your neck by roughly kissing and und running his tongue up and down, your head fell to the side to give him better access. His tongue touched your earlobe where he started to nibble a bit. Everything he did with his mouth made you moan, no matter which part of your body he touched with it. His hands got caught in your hair, you clenched your thighs together, you needed him right now. The cab driver cleared his throat at the front seat and Joe and you, separated right away. “We´re here.”

Joe paid and again grabbed your arm, teared you out of the car and into the lift at the hotel lobby. You were alone, so Joe kissed you again and again, your body stuck between his and the lift wall, this time it was sensual kisses on your lips. The fast switch from rough and passionate to slow and soft made your head dizzy. The lift door opened, Joe ran down the hall to your room and opened it with the key card. In chuckles you entered the room, Joe rapidly pushed you to the nearest wall and kissed you. His mouth wandered from your lips, down your jaw and neck and over the blouse you had decided for this morning. He pushed the waistband of it a little bit up, to gently kiss your lower stomach.

Roughly he pushed down your jeans and panties underneath at the same time. They were wrapped around your ankles now while Joe started to kiss you where you really needed him. You bumped your head to the wall in your arousal. Joe lifted your left leg up on his shoulder, he was on his knees for you. The little pressure of his tongue on your clit while he grabbed your thighs made you cum fast and hard. Your hands were tangled in his curls, trying to push him even more into your pussy, riding out your high against his face. His name escaped your throat several times, mixed with loud moans and sighs.

Joe removed your leg from his shoulder and guided you to the bed, where you laid in front of him. He removed your jeans completely, and opened the buttons of you shirt, until you were displayed entirely naked for him. He bit his lower lip and looked you deep in the eyes. “Damn, you are the most beautiful human I know, love.” You shyly smiled and sat up to undress him too. You could see his bulge clearly forming in his pants.

His shirt went to the floor, his pants followed them, then his boxers, his cock sprang free and for the first time, you felt like you wanted to try one of those things you were afraid of the whole time. “I want to blow you.”, you said to Joe staring at his hard cock right in front of your head. “You… what?”, Joe heavily exhaled. Now you looked up to him: “I want to blow you, Joe.” “You want my dick in your mouth?” “Yes.”, you were so sure, but Joe was obviously unsure about it. “You don’t want it?” “Oh I would love to, y/n. But are you sure about that?” You hectically nodded and touched his length, to start off, with your right hand. He moaned into the touch, which made you smile in pride. Your hand pumped his cock a few times, precum leaking out of it.

Then you wrapped your lips around his tip. Joe couldn’t contain a loud grunt. His hands were in your hair, slightly pulling at them. You loved the effect it had on him. You slowly started to get some more of his cock into your mouth, your tongue playing with it too, Joe letting out the filthiest sounds. “Oh, I´m so close.” You sucked him harder, taking more and more of his hard cock into your mouth, almost your throat, until your gag reflex kicked in. His breathing got heavier, which made you pussy throb. You needed him, very bad. “Y/n, I´m cumming. Where?”, was everything Joe managed to get out. You wanted him right inside, so you did not let go, when you felt his cock twitching in between your lips. The hot rope of cum shot down your throat, a weird but good feeling, you swallowed all his cum straight away.

Joe let out the loudest groan you ever heard from him. His hands were still in your hair with a tight grip, pushing your head more onto his cock which let it touch the back of your throat. He tasted amazing. You would have never thought that you would do something like this: deep throating a man in a hotel room in New York City.

Joe giggled a bit, and pulled his cock out of your mouth. “Damn, that was great.”, he sighed and sat down on the floor, aligning his face with yours. The entire time he had stood, while you kneeled on the bed. Joe smiled at you: “Thank you.” He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss. It was loving, long and intense. You wondered if he could taste himself in the kiss. “Already excited for the next time.”, you cheekily smiled back at Joe.

You hadn’t thought that it would be so enjoyable for yourself to give somebody a blowjob, but it was, at least with Joe. “It´s your turn again now.” He pushed you on your back onto the bed, and crawled on top of you. His hands next to your head at first he started to slow kiss you, running his tongue around your lips and then into your mouth, when you slightly opened it. One of his hands left the position to gently touch your clit.

Your whole body clenched together, you moaned into his mouth, deepening the wet kiss even more. “Joe.” “Yes?” “Please…” Joe interrupted your kiss and went straight down on you. His arms spread your legs, you tried to watch him but your head fell back the moment he laid his mouth on your clit. Moans, grunts, sighs, groans left your throat. He was so good at this, he never missed. Now it was your turn to bury your hands in his hair. The noises he made, while sucking you down there made you crazy in the best way possible. His head was trapped between your thighs now, your hands pushing him more and more in. His hands had a tight grip on your thighs as well. You slightly pushed up your hips, hovering over the sheets underneath. You were close, very close.

Joe added one of his fingers in your throbbing hole, a second one joined just a few seconds later, hitting your sweet spot instantly because he curled his fingers just the right angle. That made you scream his name. Your hotel neighbours were probably pretty annoyed by the constant sex noises from your room, but you didn´t care. All you could think about right now was the orgasm building up. You came hard, and loud, obviously. Joe left your soaking temple and hovered right above your face with a wide smile. “Was it good?” “You dumbass!” , you both bursted into an uncontrollable laugh. After some cuddling, kissing and making out you decided to have a pee, safety first. Your girlfriends always told you about that, but the sex you and Joe had within the last week never really led up to you leaving for the bathroom. You simply really had to pee.

To be continued…

@eviethetheatrefreak

[spatialwave]

🎄 christmas with jordan li & marie moreau 🎄

jordan would make up an excuse to stay on campus during the holidays, knowing that marie wouldn’t have anywhere to go. it would undoubtedly infuriate their parents — but it would be worth it.

the two of them would cuddle up together each night as snow slowly falls and covers the campus in fluffy, white flakes. christmas movies playing on repeat in the background, like home alone & elf.

they’d make hot cocoa every night with handfuls of mini marshmallows. sick on too much sugar.

jordan would buy a small christmas tree to set up and decorate in their dorm. marie would find ornament-making kits so they could make the tree look exactly like they want it to.

marie would hang annabelle’s picture on the tree. a reminder of who she is fighting for.

on christmas morning jordan would surprise marie with one too many gifts, healing her inner youth that missed out on ‘normal’ christmases during her time at red river.

they’d make trips into the busy centre of the city, kissing under the bright lights of the rockefeller tree. skating in the rink and laughing until their stomachs hurt when the two of them stumble and fall together.

they’d venture through the hustle and bustle of new york, grabbing slices of pizza and window shopping at places they’d never be able to afford unless they were paid handsomely by being in the seven.

marie would know from then on that she’d never want to spend christmas with anyone else but jordan, her love.

[thatrickmcginnis]

NYC 1989

I returned to New York City in 1989 and almost immediately found a job for myself there, photographing the artwork for a record my friend Jane Bunnett had recorded with jazz pianist Don Pullen. (My first record cover, I think.) I had tentatively tried my hand at street photography when I visited the city for the first time, four years earlier, but this job turned out to be a shakedown cruise for the Rolleiflex I'd recently purchased - a camera that would be basically my main portrait camera for the following decade. My then-girlfriend had just moved to the city for college so I had a place to stay, and I set out every day with a brief to collect photos that evoked NYC for the package of Jane's CD, which would be called New York Duets.

Over two trips to New York City in late summer and fall of 1989 I busied myself with taking shots of the city for my friend Jane's CD artwork, wandering through the Village where I was staying, north to Rockefeller Center and south to Wall Street, trying to find evocative shots that said "Manhattan!" without hitting the old cliches too hard. Those old cliches were hard to avoid in any case; I stayed away from Central Park, the Empire State and Chrysler buildings and the Statue of Liberty, but I still couldn't avoid other, just as obvious shots - the art deco friezes at Rockefeller Centre, fire escapes, graffiti, the Stock Exchange and the twin towers at the World Trade Center - the only photos I ever took of those iconic and tragically long-gone buildings, at sunset down at the end of West Broadway.

My New York City photos for my friend Jane Bunnett's record ended up doing the job: a shot from Rockefeller Center ended up on the cover, a few more made it on the inside and back cover of the booklet, and along the way I ended up with some photos I still like today. One shot in particular, of a group of men playing cards at the chess tables in Washington Square Park, has become a historical document; you don't see men dressed this way today, or faces like this. Most of the men in the photo are probably dead by now. I still find myself trying to take quintessential photos whenever I'm back in NYC today, but I'm old enough now that I don't care if I aim squarely for those iconic postcard shots, mostly because on the way between taking them you might find yourself finding something less obvious.

[multicolour-ink]

I bet no one would be more excited to celebrate Christmas than Peach, who's most likely never experienced the holiday. Similar to that one scene in the movie Elf, Mario and Peach skip through midtown Manhattan, stopping every few feet to admire the Christmas trees on display, and then Mario decides to show Peach the biggest Christmas tree in the city: the one on display at Rockefeller Center.

Honestly, the only thing I immediately thought of when you mentioned that scene, is Mario spinning around in the rotating door of the department store, like Buddy does in the movie 😂

Peach would stand there smiling awkwardly, wondering if this is a normal human custom ^^;

Mario would also of course give her all the delights of the holiday. Taking her ice-skating and holding her hand tight as they skate around the edge, going around a Christmas market and treating her to mulled wine, going to a toy store and showing her the giant teddy bears ❤️💗

And of course, showing her the Rockfeller Centre Christmas tree! Peach would gaze in awe at the sheer beauty of it, while Mario would turn to her smiling, and notices how the lights sparkle so beautifully in her eyes...

[enam3l]

so you guys voted and for your rockstar eddie christmas fic you chose... eddie & reader's first ever xmas together!

i just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who's followed me, this story and has ever reblogged or commented. i posted one little thing on a whim about three months ago, the first time i had ever been involved in fanfic. now we're here, there's nearly 700 of you and we've created a whole rockstar eddieverse. so this is my gift to you! thank you x

an eddie munson christmas (rockstar eddie x reader) 2.2k / pure festive fluff

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

1989 had begun, as every year had, with you grateful that the festive season was over. A time for family and traditions just a torturous reminder of your own loneliness, of everything you longed for. Growing up, Christmas had been treated like any other day. Parents occupied with work or themselves, or basically anything that wasn't you; leaving you to fend for yourself. Once you'd moved out, Christmas Day was spent eating takeout and living vicariously through movies. Eventually you met Marissa, who was Jewish and whilst you still didnt get to spend Christmas the way others did, you at least had someone to spend the day with. 

Now as '89 winded down you were giddy at the prospect of a real Christmas. As if the universe had been compensating you for twenty odd years of miserable holidays, it gifted you Eddie Munson. Knowing about how the season had always been for you til now, Eddie insisted on making Christmas a month long occasion. Although you'd both grown up with shitty parents, Eddie's saving grace had been Wayne. Money being tight only encouraging the pair to create more fun traditions. And this year you were privy to them. 

There wasn't a Christmas market in New York you hadn't visited. Not a hot chocolate or Belgian waffle you hadn't sampled. Every infamous display in the city was admired. Your ice skating virginity taken outside Rockefeller Centre. Eddie Munson, your metal head and famous rockstar boyfriend had orchestrated your own Hallmark movie experience. He even found somewhere you could cut down your own tree. For the first time you now owned a box to be stored away labelled Christmas Decorations. Filled with ornaments collected from your festive adventures. Finally, you were having Christmas. 

Yet you felt bad. Knowing Eddie would usually be spending the day with Wayne and his friends. All of them together in their found family. After surviving '86 they'd formed a new tradition, spending Christmas all together with dinner at Joyce and Hopper's. But he'd insisted that if this was your first real Christmas, he wanted you to have your own and not be dragged along with his plans. You tried to protest, especially because you loved Wayne and all of his Hawkins friends but Eddie was adamant.  

It was Christmas Eve morning, the city air frosty causing Eddie to be bundled up tightly in the bedsheets - a large man able to curl up surprisingly small. It took several kisses to his pink cheeks to wake him up from a heavy sleep. Your hand pushing back his wild fringe as his sleep filled eyes took a moment to adjust. 

'Happy Christmas Eve, Y/N,' he croaked. Gazing at you with a sleepy smile you immediately had to kiss. He chuckled as he pulled away and finally noticed the reason for his awakening. A tray placed on the bed with a pile of pancakes, drenched in his favourite topics. 

'What's this?' he queried 

'Christmas Eve breakfast,' you beamed. 

Eddie chuckled, shuffling over so he could pull you down to sit next to him on the bed. Kissing your cheek he laughed, 

'Sweetheart, that's not a thing but thank you.' 

You pull the tray onto his lap, the pair of you propped up by pillows with Eddie's arm wrapped around your shoulders. Perched between the plate and a glass is an envelope, you subtly cough and direct his gaze towards it. 

'Well it is now. Plus, you have to open your present today actually.'

You're certain you're grinning like a maniac, legs jiggling in anticipation. Eddie looks at you suspiciously before taking the envelope and opening it. Once its contents is revealed he gasps, you can see from his profile that his jaw had dropped. It's an excellent feeling, rendering someone who always has something to say, speechless. 

'I can't believe you...' 

Eddie looks at you, brown eyes glittering with unshed tears. His head shakes. 

'Y/N... you didn't have to do this.' 

You take his hand into your own, bringing it to your lips to place a kiss to his rough knuckles. He melts at your touch, placing his present down carefully to embrace you. Two flight tickets to Indiana for today. 

'The only Christmas I want is yours, Eds. With the people you love because I love you.' 

He cradles your face in his hands, foreheads pressed together. 

'Thank you... so much. This is the best present. You're going to love it, okay? I love you.' 

Wayne is there waiting at arrivals to drive you to Hawkins. You'd already clued him in on your plan, not wanting him to think for a moment you would keep his boy away from him. Upon seeing him, Eddie runs through the hall and embracing his uncle with full force. You smiled, pleased you'd managed to recreate this Hallmark movie moment for Eddie. You're embraced too by Wayne as Eddie piles your luggage into the truck. 

'Thank you for doing this hon, means a lot,' he whispers to you. 

'Anytime Wayne, I couldn't let him miss out. Not after Ed's has exposed me to all your Christmas traditions,' you grin. 

Wayne gets in the drivers seat and flashes you one of his great rare smiles. 

'Well I got the feelin' you'll always be part of them traditions now.' 

His reply leaves you dumbfounded and red in the face. The thought of being part of their family encourages a dream that after less than a year of dating, you wanted to ignore for now. 

On the journey, Eddie radiated a giddy energy. His leg bounced incessantly causing you and Wayne to send each other knowing smirks through the rear view mirror. But Wayne's glee went beyond what you thought. The older man was overwhelmed seeing someone love his boy for who he was and understand the parts Eddie rarely shared at all. Once the truck pulled up outside Joyce and Hopper's house, Eddie was running full pelt down the path and up the steps. Ringed fist hammering on the door. As you and Wayne made your way behind him, you heard his friends before you saw them. Screams and cheers at Eddie's surprise arrival. It never failed to make you smile, seeing how loved he was by his friends. 

The house was bursting at the seams with guests. Crammed full of these people who'd found each other in the darkest of times and patch-worked themselves into a family. Sure fire evidence when compared to your own family that real family and love isn't bound by blood. One of the greatest parts of being with Eddie was he came with this friendship group. You'd known it on the night you met him, when they'd taken you in before you had ever heard the name Eddie Munson. Each time you met them since they'd made you feel as if there hadn't been a time you weren't a part of the team. Heartfelt looks and warm hugs were given to you as Eddie proudly told each person how you'd made sure he came. Every member thrilled they were continuously being proved right in pushing you and Eddie together ten months ago.  

Tables were crammed together with a mishmash of chairs to ensure everyone was seated. The group cheering as Joyce produced a humongous turkey and Hopper carved away. Your sides ached from laughing hearing everyone's tales and latest adventures. The kids had all started college this autumn and were filling you in. Dustin had managed to start several small fires, Max already with a growing list of mortal enemies on campus and Lucas had become somewhat infamous for being the most athletic nerd the college had ever seen. 

Eddie watched as you wiped away tears of laughter from Dustin's jokes, let El win the prize in the cracker, offer Steve girl help and made sure Wayne's plate was full of his favourites. He can't believe he found you and you accepted every aspect of his life. In awe at how you loved everyone he loved, treated his family as your own. Throughout the evening he was unable to stop himself from stealing your affections. Ensuring his leg hooked with yours as you ate, held your hand under the table between courses and pulled you onto his lap when everyone resigned to the sofas. As if he wasn't certain before, he was now that this is where you belonged. You were fated to be with him, to be a part of his mismatched family.  

When you finally go back to Eddie's house it's no longer Christmas Day. As soon as the front door is open, your weary body heads straight towards the stairs until you're tugged back. 

'Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?' Eddie grins. 

'Bed, baby. S'late!'

Eddie just tuts and shakes his head. 

'But I haven't even given you my gift!' he protests. Dragging you by the hand to the living room where he plops the pair of you down onto the sofa. In all honesty, the thought that Eddie would also be getting you a gift hadn't crossed your mind. Receiving presents was still a fairly alien concept. The entire month of festivities as well as the day had been gift enough. Eddie rummages in his bag, pulling out a small flat box and carefully placing it on your lap. He chews at his plush lip anxiously, fingers drumming on his thigh in anticipation. Eddie had been fretting for months about what to get you. 

'What is the perfect gift for the perfect girl,' he'd wailed down the phone to Steve, Dustin, Robin and Wayne. All of whom had insisted you'd love a rock if it came from him, which wasn't wrong. 

A clear giveaway at Eddie's nerves is his immediate choice of babbling to fill the silence as you carefully undo the bow. 

'It's okay if you don't like it... I just thought... well maybe you will like it... I hope... or not... it doesn't matter, honestly... don't worry... I can get you something else... I-'

You cut his rambling off with a kiss, it had taken you a month to learn this was the only way to ease his brain. 

'Eddie, there's more chance of us spontaneously combusting this instant than of me not liking anything you ever got me.'

Your smile eases Eddie instantly and he nods, watching as you lift the lid of the box.

In the same way Eddie was at your present to him, you're left speechless. Your eyes darting between him and the gift, tears welling as you struggle for words. Inside lies a guitar pick on a chain, like Eddie's however this pick is gold metal as is the chain. 

'Eddie...' you're only able to get out a whisper. Your fingers toy delicately with the charm. Eddie reaches for it and carefully takes out of the box, letting you see it closer. 

'This is thee pick. The one I used at the homecoming gig at The Hideout. When I first met you. Kept it safe ever since, figured it was lucky. Then I finally thought of something to do with it. Had it casted in gold so it's a lil prettier and will last...'

He's chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate for you to say something. 

'It was lucky,' you finally sob, 'if it meant I met you then it's lucky... this is the most thoughtful gift I've ever gotten.'

His face softens, relieved you love it. You wipe away the tears that won't stop flowing. 

'Please could you put it on for me Eds?' 

Eddie guides you so your back faces him. Carefully twisting your hair out the way, he brings the necklace round your front, his fingers skimming your collarbones as he delicately places the necklace before clasping it. You turn back towards him so he can see. You're grinning for the hundredth time that night as you pick up the charm to admire it. It's surface sparkling with the reflection of Christmas lights. Eddie leans forward and stills your hand, he places a kiss onto the pick then on your chest, just over your heart where it hangs. 

'Luckiest pick, luckiest man in the world, sweetheart,' he coos. 

You embrace him now, hands pushing his curls back so you can take in his beautiful face. 

'I'm lucky, Eds. My first Christmas and it's with you. Without my necklace, that would've been the best gift I could've had. I love you so much.' 

The pair of you are sniffling messes at this point. Drunk from this evening but also the love you feel for each other. 

'I love you too. You're never going to have a shitty Christmas again, I promise.'

He links his pinky with yours before tugging you up to your feet. 

'Now let's go to bed. I think I might have another present for you.' 

The smirk on Eddie's face tells you everything you need to know. You run off up the stairs, leaving him chasing after you. You're determined to give him his other present first. 

Once you return to New York and you dismantle your decorations in the apartment you shared, your cheeks ached from smiling. From thinking how for the first time ever, you didn't want Christmas to end. But mainly, from seeing your decorations merge with his own into the packing boxes and you hoped they'd always stay that way; entangled together. 

my taglist angels: @whoahoney@lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Butch: What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful. Guard: People kept robbing it. Butch: Small price to pay for beauty.

- William Goldman, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid: Screenplay (1970)

In a brilliant William Goldman script peppered with memorable lines, the first exchange sets the tone of this classic Western movie. Butch looks around a bank at closing time, chatting with the security guard as he perhaps sizes up his next job.

“What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful.” “People kept robbing it.” “That’s a small price to pay for beauty.”

Right away, Goldman establishes Butch as a charismatic mouthpiece for the quip-ready screenwriter, contrasting nicely with the Sundance Kid, Robert Redford’s taciturn sharpshooter. But he’s also created two heroes who break the western mold, neither justice-seeking white-hats nor grizzled, sneering black-hats, and not as traditionally masculine as either party. Butch is a man who appreciates beauty and art, but doesn’t have the stomach for violence; it’s not until late in the film that we (and the Kid) discover that he’s never shot a man before and he looks sickened to have to do it. He’s a pleasure-seeker above all else: robbing banks and trains are his way to make an easy living and enjoy whatever sinful freedoms his vocation affords him.

Audiences in 1969 were all too happy to embrace the light, quippy irreverence of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid after a turbulent summer, and Goldman, director George Roy Hill, and the two impossibly handsome stars made them feel cool for doing it. True Grit had performed well earlier in the year as a throwback to the genre’s past, giving John Wayne a proper victory lap, but Butch Cassidy was thoroughly modern, a star-making vehicle for Newman and Redford that reflected a need for the genre to turn the page and that feels as much of its time as it does authentic to Wyoming in the late 1890s. With Katherine Ross at the centre of a love triangle between friends, the film attempted to bring a French Jules and Jim vibe to the American mainstream, taking a lesson from the French new wave on how to revive old Hollywood craft.

It still works spectacularly well. There’s an alchemy up and down the production. Redford possesses easy charm, which parries so well with Newman’s smarts that the two would run it back again with Hill a few years later in The Sting.

The pop doodling of Burt Bacharach’s musical score is about as far from a traditional western score as possible, but it somehow meshes with the sepia sheen of Conrad Hall’s photography, which burnishes the legend of these two men while their story is still being told. And while Goldman’s screenplay dances on the edge of glib, it’s lively and sophisticated, with a strong theme about the capitalist forces that really tamed the Wild West.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is such a rollicking good time that it takes a while to notice it’s about the end of the line for its heroes, whose celebrity is already widespread when the film opens and ultimately hastens their demise. “Your times is over and you’re gonna die bloody,” warns a sheriff, prophetically, in an early scene, and the film is mostly about Butch and Sundance getting chased out of America by hired guns and dying at the hands of the Bolivian army. 

They’re mostly guilty of stealing from the wrong guy: EH Harriman, the railroad tycoon, spends more trying to catch them than they rob from his safes, but it’s an opportunity for a powerful man to send a message about who’s really in charge. Guys like Butch and Sundance can handle local lawmen and half-hearted posses, but they can’t fight progress. The EH Harrimans along with the the Rockefellers, JP Morgans, and the Carnegies and of the world - the original robber barons - would make certain of that.

[n1nthrule]

He stares at me from across the living room. On the TV there's the news broadcast of the night before: a sickly grin carved out with green paint, eyes blazing apartment blocks.

Chinese demon. 

Dragon of avarice.

Before we got over the sides of the building, I saw him shaking. He’d never been so close to the edge. He looked so small, like roadkill. 

Tyler slapped him in the back of the head and told him, he’s not allowed to be a wimp. Fucking girl. All that training, going to nothing. And then he pushed him over the ledge. 

The rest of us just watched.

The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.

There’s green paint sticking in all our fingernails. Blondie over there, the guy who was touched by Tyler himself, is picking his down to stumps. 

Last week, when we all gathered under the one light and Tyler started with his usual speech, Blondie came out of the circle of guys all with shaved heads and asked, what’s next?

What’s the plan?

What are we looking towards?

Tyler tagged him for a fight immediately.

The second rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.

I watched him go down from just three hits, his weak little roadkill face left all smashed up with blood. The guys around him gestured weakly, too scared to call an ambulance, too angry to call the cops. Some guy in the corner said he knew first aid, and covered Blondie’s whole head with bandages. His weak little angel face, all bruised over, with just a few small slits for his eyes and mouth. If you get close, you can hear his breathing, laced with dyspnea. 

The woman in the news report gestures at the burning apartment blocks, and says the council has already started searching for the culprits.

When we go to sleep, in our military surplus bunk beds tucked into the Paper Street basement, Blondie comes over to mine as softly as he can. He asks me, what’s next?

What are we looking towards?

Has Tyler said?

His big roadkill angel eyes look up at me through their bandaged slits.

To calm him down, to make him smile, I tell him what Tyler told me the day I joined.

“Picture yourself planting radishes and seed potatoes on the fifteenth green of a forgotten golf course.

“You’ll hunt elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of the Rockefeller Centre, and dig clams next to the skeleton of the Space Needle leaning at a forty-five degree angle.

“We’ll paint the skyscrapers with huge totem faces and goblin tikis, and every evening what’s left of mankind will retreat to empty zoos and lock itself in cages as protection against bears and big cats and wolves that pace and watch us from outside the cage bars at night.”

“And Tyler?” He asks. His voice trembles with the weight of it. “Where’s he?”

I tell him Tyler’s gone. Lost in the fight for better things. He dies assassinating the President or blowing up the grave of the Queen of England and we give him a big Viking funeral. We send his coffin out to sea and leave it to the piranhas.

Blondie sighs into my lap. His face is concentrated on the bunk above as if he’s counting the planks slowly.

“That’s a good dream.” he tells me. So I say I'm gonna make it real. All of it. For him. He stalks off back to his bunk with a faint smile hanging on his bloody lips.

[isconnormcdavidok]

Happy Holidays @twopeoplecanchange !

Christmas in New [Jersey] York

It’s been two years since Nico asked you to move to the States with him and honestly you’re pretty glad he’s playing on the east coast, it’s hard to imagine the Christmas season without snow, sure New Jersey doesn’t get quite as pretty as back home, at least not in Newark. But that doesn’t mean you don’t love it.

There’s a home game that night so you’ve got your favourite custom hoodie picked out, even if it’s probably gonna be under a coat, it’s more for you and Nico than the fans, though you’re used to that as well. Nico’s one of the most popular guys on his team and you’ve bonded with Jack’s girlfriend about what the attention feels like.

Coming from Switzerland, where you’d been pretty anonymous it felt sort of weird when you and Nico first got serious and you realized that people really cared what you were doing. It took a while to get used to it and you don’t know if you really are yet.

But you’re with the other girls and family members, drinking a beer when Nola slides up beside you and picks up your hand. “You should get your nails done.”

You just laugh, you usually do your own nails, as a break from the correspondence courses you’re doing. You do want to get a degree after all, even if you’re not really able to work right now.

You’re glad that the Devils organization offers a lot of volunteering opportunities and Nola brushes off your laugh, “Veronica recommended this great place in the city. I’m gonna make appointments for us. Girl’s day.”

And well, you don’t really mind that much, it sounds fun and pretty soon you’re being ushered back towards the game as the intermission comes to an end.

You almost forget about the plan until Nola texts you an Instagram link and the date and time of the appointment. You kind of laugh, the Russian manicure she’s booked sounds fancy and honestly the more you think about it, the more fun it sounds as you scroll through their instagram.

You don’t dress up for the appointment per se but it’s a high end place so you’re wearing your nice lounge wear, an off shoulder sweatshirt and black leggings with a designer parka.

Nola meets you with sugar cookie lattes for both of you and you’re starting to feel like something is up, not that Nola isn’t always nice but it’s starting to feel like it’s your birthday or something. But also you’re not gonna argue with it. The nail tech explains that the Russian manicures are very long lasting and you laugh, you’re always hard on your nails, so you’re at least intrigued as you stand at the nail wall.

There’s probably every colour in the rainbow and every colour and texture in between. And maybe it’s the Swiss in you but you’ve never been flashy so you end up picking this mauve-y grey gel that’s at least a very interesting neutral, not too boring. And Nola nods approvingly, “What about like a chrome or something?”

You grin, thinking that sounds like fun. “What are you doing?” Nola grins, plucking a bottle of champagne shimmer off the wall and wiggles her nails at you with a grin. “Love it.”, you say laughing.

You both get champagne and that’s when Nola tells you you’re gonna head over to the Rockefeller Centre rink after. You’ve been a few times with Nico before and you remind her that you’ve got dinner plans with Nico and she nods, of course you’ll make it.

You notice the nail tech has a bit of a smile and you quickly learn just how intensive the nail process is, nails buffed and shaped to perfection before you even get the nail polish on.

Despite the long process, it’s easy to settle into chatting with Nola, sometimes it’s exhausting to be speaking English all the time, unless it’s just you and Nico or you and Nico and Nola and Jonas. Not to throw Timo under the bus but he’s more Nico’s friend than yours.

You can’t help but smile when you see your nails, sparkling under the light, the chrome was a great idea.

From there it’s an Uber to the Rockefeller Centre and Nola takes you over to get some skates when you hear a voice behind you, “Hey babe.”, Nico teases and Nola laughs.

“Enjoy!”, she calls as she walks back to the road and you look at Nico in confusion. He just smiles.

“I wanted to do something special.”, you’ve never gotten over how handsome he is, it’s hard to remember that you both used to be scrawny teenagers messaging between Halifax and Switzerland and now you’re here. And Nico leads you over to the skate rental.

He’s wearing a beanie and you can see that a few people are glancing your way, like maybe they recognize him, but no one approaches you as you and Nico do a couple of slow steady laps, pretty soon you’ve settled back into your skates, laughing as you skate around Nico, who’s filming on his cell. “Do it for the gram.”, you say with a wink.

As darkness falls, Nico leads you to pick up some hot chocolate and you’re starting to worry about your dinner reservation as you stare up at the tree when suddenly you hear a few people around you fall quiet. And you look around you quickly, wondering if something’s wrong when you see Nico down on one knee, a box in his hand.

And your eyes go wide. “Nico?”

“I’ve worked on this speech for weeks now but I still don’t have the words, I feel like I have loved you as long as I have known what love is. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?”

All you can do is gasp as the words sink in and then you respond in a rush, “Of course.”

It’s the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen and your hands are shaking as Nico slips it on to your ring finger, you can feel the tears in your eyes and you catch your new manicure in the light of the tree and quickly snap a photo to text to Nola.

“Now we have dinner reservations.”, Nico reminds you.

Dinner is at your favourite restaurant but you’re not led to a table instead you’re led to one of the private rooms where the whole team is waiting with a couple of huge engagement ring shaped balloons. Then it’s just a whirlwind of photos, congratulations, “he did well” and more than one “nice nails” and you catch Nola’s eye and she just grins at you.