#mill ave

[caramelloss]

you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

[ajaystillblue]

At a little park area in downtown Tempe, there are these giant bunny statues, and I went by yesterday and???? Someone decided the bunnies were getting married????

BUT WAIT!!! Look at the sign a little closer, and then the color scheme of the veils—

LESBIAN BUNNY WEDDING???

I have no idea who put this on or what it was for, but people were cheering and taking pictures with the brides and a third additional bunny statue was the flower girl and people are actually really good, I’ve decided

[noelbobby]

Here's some Characters of Mine. A random bunch counterclockwise: the Shadowy figure from what, the Proposer from Proposition, Mills from A Stone Tutorial on Drawin' Non-Binary People and the square-headed and round-headed stick figures from An Unsubtle Comic. Like the stick figures say this is an odd selection. Mills and them being here is a very funny contrast to the Shadowy Figure and especially the Proposer. Speaking of those two, as this is the first time either have been seen from the front this also shows the Figure's odd eyes (which I thought of when I drew what, but didn't implement) and that the Proposer has an earring (I had and dropped that idea when I drew Proposition). Also, of these five only Mills has a name and a known gender, being non-binary with a preference for no pronouns, which is functionally exactly the same as the way I'm talkin' about the other four, but the difference is significant t' me an' sorta notable.

[jennyfromthebes]

happy last saturday morning of this year! we made it.

[liljakonvalj]

Är inte KDare MEN känner att jag behöver förklara detta. Visst, det är kul att föra memes på politiska uttalanden (och fortsätt gärna med det!), men KDs slogan är faktiskt tydlig med vad de vill.

Jag tror de anspelar på definitionen av frihet inom (politisk) filosofi, vad frihet innebär och främst positiv och negativ frihet. Såhär lyder Wikipedias definition:

"Positiv frihet betecknar möjligheten och förmågan att tillfredsställa sin egen potential, i motsats till negativ frihet som betecknar frihet från hinder eller tvång. Annorlunda uttryckt kan positiv frihet sägas beteckna en individs frihet att kunna uppnå sina mål oavsett sina egna materiella begränsningar, och negativ frihet sägas beteckna en individs frihet från auktoritet." (Källa)

Jag brukar tänka på det som frihet till och frihet från.

Om man ska förenkla vad politik innebär så är en av de största frågorna balansen mellan individuell frihet och statlig kontroll. Vissa partier vill se stor statlig kontroll (i regel t.ex. socialdemokraterna) och vissa liten (i regel t.ex. kristdemokraterna och i ännu större grad Liberalerna). Man skulle kunna säga att all statlig kontroll i viss mån inskränker på individens frihet - skatter gör att jag har mindre pengar att röra mig med, lagar gör att jag inte kan göra exakt vad jag vill osv. Men samtidigt möjliggör de också mycket för oss, ger oss friheter - skatten går till skolan som ger oss kunskap, och till sjukvården och polisväsende som skapar trygghet. Lagarna gör att jag ska slippa riskera att bli mördad eller lurad av företag (när de följs, såklart). Alltså ger begränsningarna mig andra friheter.

När KD pratar om gränser och frihet menar de just vilka begränsningar i friheten vill vi att den överstatliga instansen EU ska styra över. Så här står det på KDs hemsida:

Vi behöver vara tydliga med vad vi vill att EU ska vara, vilka friheter vi strävar efter och vilka gränser som krävs. EU behöver gå tillbaka till sitt kärnuppdrag, att garantera fred, frihet och frihandel. Dessvärre har vi sett en utveckling i motsatt riktning. Allt fler frågor detaljregleras i Bryssel idag. (Källa)

Notera gärna särskilt de två sista meningarna om vad de vill bort från. De vill alltså sätta gränser mot EUs möjligheter att inskränka våra individuella grundfriheter, dvs. en mindre överstatlighet. Gränser som skapar frihet.

Sen får man som väljare tycka vad man vill om hur stor makt/vilka frågor EU ska få ha hand om (det är ju ändå det valet handlar om - att vi ska få tycka till!). Men jag tycker deras slogan passar deras politiska hållning, och det är ju trots allt dess syfte.

Har du sett KDs reklamskyltar inför EU? Gränser & Frihet. Hör de ens sig själva?

Såg det i en tidning.

Skicka in era favorit motsatser idag och vinn en plats i EU parlamentet

[directactionforhope]

Late notice but

Today 10/5 is an international day of action protesting one year of the Gaza genocide!

Find a protest near you today or tomorrow 10/6! If you're in the US, look at the links below, from the US Campaign for Palestinian Rights!

October 5, 2024

Note: Tumblr has capped the number of outgoing links you can use in one post. Go to the USCPR link above and click on a protest for a flyer/organizer info for each and every one of these events.

Albany, NY | 4:30PM Dana Park

Albuquerque, NM | 2PM Robinson Park

Amherst, MA | Amherst Town Common

Anchorage, AK | 2PM Townsquare Park

Atlanta, GA | 2PM 190 Marietta SW

Austin, TX | 1PM Austin City Hall

Birmingham, AL | 2PM Victoria Square

Blacksburg, VA | 3PM Pylons

Boston, MA | 2PM Cambridge City Hall

Burlington, VT | 1PM Battery Park

Charleston, SC | 2PM Marion Square Park

Chicago, IL | 2PM Water Tower Park

Cleveland, OH | 3PM 11804 Lorain Ave

Columbus, OH | 2PM Goodale Park

Corvallis, OR | 12 NOON County Courthoue

Dallas, TX | 12PM The Grassy Knoll

Denver, CO | 12PM 400 Josephine St

Detroit, MI | 2PM 5 Woodward Ave, Detroit

Dover, DE | 12 NOON 250 Gateway S Blvd

Fort Myers, FL | 6PM Centennial Park

Gainseville, FL | 2PM City Hall

Honolulu, HI | 11AM Ala Moana & Atkinson

Houston, TX | 2PM Houston City Hall

Indianapolis, IL |  2PM Lugar Plaza

Kansas City | 1PM Mill Creek Park

Kona, HI | 12:30PM Old airport by the skating rink

Las Vegas, NV | 2PM 3449 S Sammy Davis Jr Dr

Little Rock, AK | 4PM 1200 Main St

Los Angeles, CA | 2PM Pershing Square

Louisville, KY | 3PM Water Front Park

Maui, HI | 11AM Kapuka’ulua (Baldwin Beach)

Memphis, TN | 2PM City Hall

Miami, FL | 5PM Torch of Friendship

Milwaukee, WI | 2PM Zedler Union Square Park

Missoula, MT | 7PM 200 W Broadway

Nashville, TN | 2PM Centennial Park

New York, NY | 2PM Times Square

New Haven, CT | 1PM New Haven Green

New Orleans, LA | 5PM Congo Square

Ottawa, Ontario | 2PM Parliment Hill

Orlando, FL | 4PM Orlando City Hall

Pensacola, FL | 5PM Palafox & Gregorary St.

Pittsburgh, PA | Film screening, 3PM 100 S Commons St.

Portland, ME | 5PM Monument Square

Portland, OR | 3PM Unthank Park

Providence, RI | 3PM RI State House steps & 5:30PM 1 Finance Way

Raleigh, NC | 3PM Moore Square

Rochester, NY | 1PM MLK Park

Sacramento, CA | 2PM West steps of the Capitol

Salt Lake City, UT | 2PM 125 S State St

San Antonio, TX | 1PM Travis Park

San Diego, CA | 2:00PM 1600 Pacific Highway

Seattle, WA | 2PM TBA, with car caravans from Spokane, Pasco, Ellensburg

St. Louis, MO | Liberation weekend, 9AM-8PM 475 East Lockwood Ave

Tampa, FL | 2PM Bank of America Plaza

Toronto, Ontario | 2PM Yonge Dundas Square

Urbana, IL | 2PM 101 E Main St

Ventura, CA | 2PM 501 Poli St

Washington, DC | 4PM White House

West Plains, MO | 12 NOON Downtown Square

Wichita, KS | 12:30PM Spirit Aerosystems

October 6, 2024

Amityville, NY | 1PM LIRR

Boston, MA | 1PM Boston Common

Green Bay, WI | 5:30PM Leicht Memorial Park

Los Angeles, CA | Vigil, 6:30PM Echo Park Lake

Minneapolis, MN | 1:30PM Gateway Park Fountain

Ontario, CA | 1PM Euclid & C St

Paterson, NJ | 2PM Palestine Way with Gould Avenue

Roanoke, VA | Vigil, 6PM Heights Community Church courtyard

San Diego, CA | 4PM Centro Cultural de La Raza

San Francisco, CA | 1PM 16th & Valencia

San Jose, CA | 12 NOON City Hall

St. Louis, MO | 1PM Choteau Park

[pluviophile6104]

If anyone is interested, I found the songs played in Episode 1: Part 1/4 * The Magnetic Buzz- Slow Touch (Opening Scene) * Tzabutan - El Cognito (0:43) * Charlie Ryan - Garage Band Revolt (3:14) * Zorro- Devil to My Right (4:41) * IamDaylight- Alaska Jam (5:33) * Jesse Lawrence - Step It up Baby (feat. LaKesha Nugent) (6:45) * Victor Lundberg- Keep the Door Open (8:47) * Tom Meira Armony- Holy Moly (15:05) * OTE - I'm Indestructible (feat. Divty & Tigerblood Jewel) [Tigerblood Jewel Remix] (16:27) Part 2/4 * Luc Allieres- Struttin' (0:22) * Mansij- Reverie (0:57) * Aves - Smile (2:32) * Conditional- 200 Dont's (3:00) * The Foundling- Colours of the Rainbow (6:09) * Nuvo- สุดสุดไปเลย (12:42) * Staffan Carlén - Just a Little Sunshine (15:13) Part 3/4 * The Magnetic Buzz - Keep Your Head Down (0:45) * Pastis - Castle to Ruin (0:55) * Medité- What Once Was Left Behind (2:04) * Taniya Jannat- Break It Up (2:57) * Vividry - Every Second of My Life (5:12) * Richard Farrell- Soul Swingin' (8:06) * Assaf Ayalon - Willie (feat. Roy Young) (9:26) * Raw - Ghost Witch (10:34) * Stonekeepers- A One Way Ticket (feat. Ed Mills) (11:44) * Ardie Son - Roadway (14:00) * Ikoliks- Devil in the Bottle (16:22) Part 4/4 * Aves- Summer Breakup Song (3:29) * Charles Holme- Change by Reversal (5:35) * SLPSTRM- Stampede (6:05) * RocknStock- Dirty Business (6:25) * RocknStock- Rumble (8:45) * OTE- Black and White (9:52) * Raw- Enter the Ring (10:31) * Out of Flux- Chaos at the Spaceship (12:05)

[vintagelasvegas]

Las Vegas Blvd southbound at Sahara, c. June 1962

On the left, Lasky Building (2307 LVBS), Sunland Shopping Center (2401 LVBS) with Foxy's Deli and Marianne's. Sahara hotel past San Francisco St (Sahara Ave). Shelley Berman and Mills Bros in the showroom, Don Rickles and The Charact3rs in the lounge.

Vintage contrail, below.

[aviiarie]

heya aves!! could I req alhaitham for ( ❤️ ) — IRIS sonder and taciturn? thanksths:3

cws & notes. no warnings. alhaitham x gn!reader. angst, but with a hopeful ending. 700+ words. eek i hope this is okay, it didn't turn out how i'd hoped.

Doubts, you always had doubts when it came to Alhaitham.

Not any sort of big ones, nothing to shake you to your core, leaving you stumbling on your feet with each step. Just small ones. Small, silly, inconsequential doubts, that worm their way through your brain, and bury themselves into the cracks of your mind. Annoying little insects is all they are, nothing more than a fly buzzing by your ear.

Still, their whispers never waver, no matter how much logic you try to soothe them with. You wished you could say they didn't bother you, you wished you were able to put them to rest once and for all, but they always seem to linger like a bad cologne.

Your lover has always been the quiet type; never silent, just quiet. His words are measured, clipped and precise, not wasting a single breath more than is necessary. It never bothered you before; you easily wrote it off as just his temperament, but it didn't take long to feel the strain.

No matter how many times you told him you loved him, it was rare to hear it said back to you. And maybe it was a fault of your own, for only working up the courage to say it in a playful, light-hearted tone, when on the inside you were aching to hear it sincerely, but it hurt. Much more than you were willing to admit.

During the days when you were separate, you'd wander the streets with a frown settled over your features, watching mournfully over the young couples milling around. Sumeru was never empty, no matter the time of day or corner of the city you visited, so you were never lacking in strangers to watch.

It almost pained you to see, the ones who loved and were loved so easily. All wrapped up in their own lives, not noticing your stare, they giggled to themselves, exchanging kisses and affections without a care in the world. They had their own places to go, things to do, people to love, but all you had was...

Doubts.

Alhaitham was never like that. He was never outwardly callous or cruel, never to you, but it wasn't like he made much of an effort to soften up either. From an outside looking in, it would be hard to distinguish any romance between the two of you at all. It was just his nature, you reasoned with yourself, but your mind still wondered.

“You love me, don't you?” You eventually asked. The silence stretched wide between you two, thick enough to be sliced with the knife in Alhaitham's hand. The utensil was frozen in his grasp, hovering above the vegetables he was in the midst of chopping up.

“Of course I do.” He frowned, resuming his cutting. “Why are you asking?”

“You never say it.” There was no other way to put it, than as bluntly as possible. Perhaps the rarity of the words is what brings them more meaning, but it didn't exactly put you at ease.

“I love you.” For the first time, he sounded uncertain. Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you held his gaze. “I do. I thought you knew that.”

And of course you knew. Past the poisonous part of your mind that hissed if he really loved you, he'd show it, is the knowledge that Alhaitham would never waste his time with someone he didn't care about. A while ago, it might even have been enough, but the comfort was wearing thin.

“I'm... sorry.” He said slowly, placing the knife down. “I didn't realize you were so affected. I'll try to be more... outward with my affections. If that is something you desire.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, mulling over the words. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

All you can do is nod, holding the vow close to your heart. Your lover might be quiet, but what he does say, he means. When he tells you he's trying, you believe him without resistance, because you know it is fact. And even after your dinner, when you're washing up alone, with the doubt still present in the back of your head, you trust in his word.

Because you know he keeps his promises.

✦ IRIS : promises are just words unless they can actually keep them. ✦ SONDER : the profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one's own. ✦ TACITURN : silent; temperamentally untalkative; disinclined to speak.

written for the @stellaronhvnters love letters event ♡

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[kimberly40]

Memorial for the 6 textile workers who were shot and killed on October 1, 1929 while picketing Marion Manufacturing Company in Marion, North Carolina.

The four men were Sam Vickers, Randolph Hall, Luther Bryson, and George Jonas. Two additional workers, James Roberts and T. L. Carver, died later of their wounds. The law enforcement officers were charged with murder but would later be acquitted in court.

This memorial is located off of Baldwin Ave in Marion, North Carolina in front of the old mill.

[aerynwrites]

Peace

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting anything lately lol - my writing motivation has been in the toilet. But hopefully it's back now and I just had to get this little piece out for the holidays. I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 4k Warnings: so much fluff, fluff galore, fluff mountain, slightly insecure simon, (possibly ooc simon??), mentions of praying before a meal, again just lots of fluff.

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn’t get nervous. 

Nerves, anxiety, fear - it was all beat out of him by his piece-of-shit excuse for a father. Then further beat out of him in the military. Nervousness died with the first Simon Riley, buried six feet underground never to be heard from again.

So why the bloody fuck are his hands sweating?

He’s wiped them on the fabric of his jeans at least a dozen times as they drive down the desolate stretch of road in nowhere Scotland. Johnny talking his ear off the whole time - mostly about his family. 

The family Simon is about to meet. 

Fuck…what was he thinking, agreeing to this?

Thinking you don’t want to be alone again on the holidays, that’s what.

Simon shakes his head, chasing the thought away as quick as it’d come. 

He’s been alone all his life. He didn’t need anyone. Yet, when Johnny had whispered the request, a simple one really - into the darkness of the room one night as they shared a bed…Simon couldn’t say no. 

“Come home with me, Si.”

That was less than a week ago, and the Scott followed through on his promise, helping Simon pack his bags before all but whisking him away for a few weeks holiday with his family. 

His very large family. 

Of course Simon knew of Johnny’s parents and sisters and brother, but Johnny had warned him that the whole extended family gets together for Christmas. He’d been regaling Simon with dozens of tales from his childhood, each one with a different family member. And try as he might, Simon couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he continued, sweaty palms forgotten the longer Johnny talked. 

The small moment of reprieve didn’t last long, however, because sooner than Simon was ready for they were turning off the main road onto a side street. That side street quickly gave way to a long gravel drive, and before he knew it Johnny had parked the car behind at least half a dozen others in front of a large house. 

The first thing Simon noticed was the sheer normal-ness of the place. All the cars were practical ones, SUVs, sedans - made for families. The house was decorated modestly but tastefully. Colorful string lights lined the gutters and porch railings, a wreath hung on the door, and a large wooden sign leaned up against the front of the house beside the door that read ‘Merry Christmas!’ In bold red letters. 

But more than that, Simon could see into the house. The blinds are open and he can see many people milling about, talking, laughing, adults running after small children-

“This wasn’t a good idea, Johnny.”

The words are out before Simon can stop them, and he instantly regrets them the moment they bring a wounded look to his partner's face. But he can’t help it. His damn palms are sweaty again and his heart is racing and he can’t-

Johnny reaches over to slide a familiar calloused hand into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’ll be okay, Simon. They’re gonna love ya’-”

Simon can’t help the small huff of bitter laughter that slips from beneath his mask. “Will they?” He asks, before gesturing to the cloth covering his face. 

“You’re tellin’ me the kids won’t run screamin’, the moment they see me? Or that your family won’t stare at the giant with a bloody mask-”

Simon cuts himself off, shaking his head. 

“I shouldn’t ‘ave come,” he repeats sullenly, “You go in. Enjoy the holiday with your family. I saw a hotel not too far back, I can-”

“No, no, no, none of that shite,” Johnny interjects, voice firm. A tone he doesn’t take with Simon often. 

“I’ve told them all about you,” he finally admits, “mask an’ all.” He laughs softly. “The only thing Ma ‘ad to say about it was askin’ why you chose a skull.”

Simon is silent, warring with himself as Johnny continues. 

“And…you don’t ‘ave to wear it if you don’t want to,” he suggests lightly, before squeezing Simon’s hand again. “I wouldn’t ‘ave suggested you come if I dinnae think they’d like ya’. My family is important to me, Si. And you’re part of tha’ now.”

Simon didn’t have time to respond this time before Johnny’s out of the car and opening the trunk to get their bags. He’s thinking out loud again, wondering if his mother made his favorite side dish or dessert, wondering if his nephews would be here.

Simon is listening but he also isn’t, his mind running one hundred miles a minute until the trunk slams closed and Simon lets out a muttered curse before ripping the balaclava off his head and shoving it in his pocket as he steps from the vehicle. He doesn’t miss the shocked raise of the Scott’s eyebrows as he comes around the car before it melts into that fucking smile that plagues Simons waking moments. 

Simon takes his bag from Johnny’s hand before following him up the drive then up the steps of the porch. He waits patiently as Johnny grabs the door handle, knocking when he finds it’s locked. Every moment of waiting feels like an eternity for Simon, all possible scenarios running through his mind. The door swinging open and everyone inside coming to a stand still as they take in the monster Johnny brought with him. The children pointing and whispering about the scars marring his features. Johnny’s parent’s frowning in disapproval at the choice their son made…

It’s all playing out in front of his very eyes until a soft feminine voice calls out from the other side of the door - ‘coming!’ - and then the lock clicks and the door swings open and an older woman that looks eerily similar to his partner beams up at them both.

“Johnathan!” She says reverently, wistfully, as she wraps her son in a hug so fierce Simon’s momentarily worried she might injure him. 

But Johnny just laughs and drops his bag as he wraps his big arms around his mother, stooping down to envelop her entirely as he embraces her, tucking his head into her neck. 

“I’m home, Ma.”

The embrace lasts for the perfect amount of time before they pull away from one another, and it’s then, as Mrs. MacTavish holds her son at arms length - looking over him - that her eyes flit over to Simon, and the inevitable has finally come. 

Except there’s no hatred. No disgust or disapproval or furrowed brows. Instead there’s a smile just as big as she gave Johnny and before Simon can react the woman is approaching him.

“You must be, Simon,” she says, voice gentle - warm and welcoming. 

All Simon can do is nod, gripping onto his duffel bag with white knuckles. 

“Johnathan never stops talking about you-”

“Ma!” Johnny reprimands.

“Talking about you and your team and how…” she trails off, a sadness settling into her eyes before she steps forward and wraps Simon in an embrace he hasn’t felt since his own mother passed. 

It’s strong and grounding, yet soft and inviting all at the same time, and it catches Simon so off guard that this woman who barely reaches his chest is hugging him - that all he can think to do is wrap his free arm lamely around her shoulders. 

“Thank you for keeping him safe.”

The words are so soft, uttered into the cotton of Simon's shirt, that he’s surprised he hears them. But he does, and he gives her a gentle squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to him,” he assures her.

He looks to Johnny as his mother pulls away from him, and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the smug ‘I told you so’ look on the scott’s face. 

Mrs. MacTavish smiles again before stepping back towards the house. “Well, come on then, you’re just in time, really. Dinner is goin’ to be ready within the hour.”

She opens the door back up and steps inside and Johnny follows close behind her, looking back when Simon hesitates. He gives him a reassuring look, shifting his bag to his other hand so he can reach a hand out to him. Letting out a small resigned huff, Simon takes the hand offer to him and lets himself be tugged into the house. 

Warmth envelopes him almost immediately- not only in the temperature sense because of the roaring fire in the fireplace at the center of the living room - but also in the atmosphere. The lights around the house are soft and welcoming, none of the bright fluorescents that litter the base. And the general sense in the house is one of pure love and happiness and joy. Children running around, adults laughing and chatting happily with drinks in their hands. Even the Christmas tree, bursting with colorfully wrapped gifts beneath it adds to the overall feel. 

It gives Simon whiplash - how different this place is than the environments he’s usually in. It’s not like the cinderblock dorm he usually stays in or the concrete gym he frequents or even the various dangerous countries he travels to for missions. 

Simon wants to both run and never leave at the same time. And unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get a chance to do the former. Before he has a chance to disappear into some dark corner (not that there’s many to be seen in this cozy home) Johnny is introducing him to all the family that stops them as they come in. 

Aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces, grandparents…the only ones Simon really has time to remember are his sisters because Johnny talks about them all the time anyways - and once again, Simon is startled into near silence. Not a single one of them gives him a sideways glance. They all just smile warmly at him when Johnny introduces him, giving him a firm handshake - or let’s be honest - most of them wrap him in a firm hug. He expected nothing less from Johnny’s family. 

And when Johnny does end up getting pulled away by rambunctious nieces and nephews and Simon is left alone, he still doesn’t get a chance to slip away because Johnny’s sisters are sliding up to him, chatting about anything and nothing and slipping a drink into his hand (spike eggnog which Simon pretends not to enjoy as much as he does). 

It’s how ended up where he is now, hating feeling useless and standing around, he’s bustling around the kitchen with Johnny’s sisters, Amelia and Isobel and Mrs. MacTavish.

“Call me Moira, Simon. Mrs. MacTvish is my mother-in-law.”

(He doesn’t. Can’t. Not yet at least.)

“Simon,” Amelia, calls from the gargantuan dining room table in the room connected to the kitchen, “Can you grab the trivets? Dinnae want to leave rings on the table-”

“Oh!” Isobel calls as well, from where she’s playing the silverware, “I forgot the napkins too-”

Simon, with trivets already tucked beneath his arms, swoops up the delicately folded napkins on his way into the dining room - “On it.”

He places the trivett's precisely where the sisters direct him, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at his lips when they practically groan in appreciation when he places the napkins on top of the plates that are set out.

“Finally,” Amelia explains, moving to help Isobel set the silverware, “A man who isn’t entirely clueless-”

“Right?” Isobel agrees, both of them laughing.

Simon lets out a chuckle of his own, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We didn’ do much as a family when I was younger,” he starts, slightly hesitant. “But my Mum never skipped a holiday meal. Showed me how to set the table,” he says softly, feeling like he revealed too much. 

But the sisters just smile brightly at him, and Simon has to shove down the voice screaming ‘wrong, wrong, wrong! You don’t deserve their kindness, their sympathy-‘

“Well, your mum sounds like a lovely, woman,” Amelia says, before Isobel pipes in. 

“Are you and Johnny going to visit your family after us?”

Simon freezes at that, shoulders tensing as he tries and fails to stop the frown from tugging at his lips. He pretends not to see the way Amelia elbows her sister, sending her a scathing look as he continues to place napkins, now avoiding their eyes. 

“I uh-” he clears his throat. “My family’s passed. Jus’ me now.”

It’s silent for a moment, before he feels a gentle squeeze on his shoulder and he startles slightly, not having heard Mrs. MacTavish come up behind him in his inner grief. He turns to see yet another one of those blinding smiles on her face, a smile so similar to Johnny’s. He freezes again as her hand slides down to cover Simon’s, her hand tiny against his own larger one. 

“Well,” she says softly, “You always have a place at our table, Simon. You’re our family now.”

She turns away before he can speak and as she calls out to the family that dinner is ready, he’s silently glad she did, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to speak around the lump in his throat. 

———

The family helps carry the food out to the table, and Simon can’t help but be impressed at the bountiful display of food, his stomach rumbling at the sight. Johnny finds him in the slight chaos, taking his hand in his own as he leads him to two seats towards the head of the table, just as everyone else is taking their seats. Johnny’s mother is at the head of the table, Amelia and Isobel and their partners and children to her left and Johnny and Simon to her right. He can’t help but feel like he’s too high up on the totem pole that is family seating. Hell, he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be here at all. 

Yet, when Mrs. MacTavish insist they all hold hands to say a prayer and she goes through the typical spiel, any doubt he has melts away when she says thanks for Johnny’s safety, Simon’s own name falling shortly behind before the entire table closes the prayer and Johnny squeezes his hand in that loving way that always makes his heart stutter. 

As quickly as the silence that fell over the table during grace came, it was gone in an instant. Soft shatter and laughter soon starts up as everyone passes dishes of food around. A lot of the things Simon recognizes; ham, mashed potatoes, and various other comfort food sides litter the table. But there are also some dishes that are unfamiliar to Simon, and Johnny is quick to explain them. Most of them are Scottish dishes he’s never heard of, but some are family recipes that have evolved over the years - all of them Johnny’s favorites.

“Oh, you ‘ave to try this one Si, it’s my favorite-”

“You’ve said tha’ about the last three dishes, Johnny-”

The Scott just laughs, “But this time I mean it.”

Soon, Simon’s plate is piled so high with food he’s concerned he won’t be able to eat it all (he does…and goes back for seconds). And he has to constantly remind himself not to eat like a military man - hunched over his plate, shoveling food in as fast as possible to be done in time - something he notices Johnny has to do as well. 

Simon smiles - and for the first time since he left base a few days ago, his palms have stopped sweating. 

———

The night is quiet as Simon steps outside of the still chattering household. Dinner ended a few hours ago, and ever the dutiful guest, Simon helped clean up before the events were moved to the living room. Presents were shared among family, mainly the kids. Colorful wrapping paper littering the floor and the couches and the chairs (and even the fireplace on one occasion, a disaster Simon managed to catch and stomp out before it went too far.) He and Johnny sat on the couch, the latter watching and oozing happiness from every pore as he soaked in the family he hadn't seen in too long. Hell, even Simon was sated - a little too much like a cat in a sun patch with his belly full and his inhibitions slightly dulled from that damn eggnog. 

But now…Simon felt the ever present itch to step away, that familiar feeling of otherness creeping back in as he feels like an intruder to something so cozy and intimate. 

You don’t belong here, that voice mutters again, sounding strangely similar to his father’s rasping voice as he slides the back door open and steps onto the back porch.

He tugs a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket, placing it between his lips before grabbing the zippo Johnny had gifted him almost a year ago. 

‘It’s the twenty-first century, L.T. quit usin’ matches.’

Simon huffed out a small laugh at the memory as he flicked the wheel of the lighter, a small flame sparking to life and warming his palm as he cups his hand around it and brings to the end of the cigarette, taking a deep drag to light it. 

The soft sound of the sliding glass door reaches his ears just as he flicks the lighter closed and stows it away, and he knows who it is almost instantly, the footsteps familiar to him. 

Johnny doesn’t speak right away, instead coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Simon just as the first few flurries start to fall from the sky. 

Snow…

Simon can’t remember the last time he saw snow - well - saw snow in a pleasant way. Snow that wasn’t waist deep and in the Russian wilderness and keeping his team from reaching the safe house. Snow that wasn’t stained red or crushed into brown slurry beneath his boots. 

Maybe this trip would change that - like it’s changed a lot of things. 

“Thank you.”

The words are simple, but soft. Softer than they have a right to be coming from a man like Simon. A man who has more blood on his hands than most. A man who most people would run from the second they looked at him. 

But he means them. He means them with his whole heart and he hopes that Johnny understands everything Simon is trying to say with those two simple words. 

Thank you for inviting me here. Thank you for trusting me with your family. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for loving the unlovable and showing me this and -

Johnny shrugs, and the rustle of fabric breaks off Simon’s train of thought as he glances over at his partner from the corner of his eyes. 

“I want you ‘ere, Si,” Johnny says softly, eyes looking out into the wilderness beyond the backyard, into the stars littering the night sky, “I ‘ave for a long time, and I…”

He trails off, clearing his throat, and Simon doesn’t miss the way he fiddles with something in his pocket. 

“I love you, Simon,” he says gently, finally tearing his eyes away from the celestial lights above him to look at Simon in a way that he’s never been looked at before. “And I meant wha’ I said. You’re part of this now,” he gestures back to the house still brimming with life, love, and happiness. “And I was wonderin’…” he trails off again, letting out a frustrated sound. 

“Ah, I’m shite at this…”

Simon huffs out a laugh, “Spit it out, Johnny-”

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to laugh, shaking his head as he pulls out a little velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Your makin’ this real ‘ard to be all romantic an’ shit-” he rolls his eyes, but even in the dimness of the moonlight Simon doesn’t miss the way Johnny’s cheeks redden. 

Realistically Simon knows what’s in the box - he knows what’s coming. Yet, he still can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat when Johnny opens the box to reveal a simple gold ring. No frills, no getting on one knee and professing his love, no fancy dinner. 

It was never their thing anyways. 

“Simon Riley,” Johnny says, voice slightly choked, nervous, “Will you marry me?”

Simon never truly knew what he would do in this situation- fuck, he never imagined this scenario. Ever. Not in a million years. And if he did - he always thought he’d be the one asking.

“Johnny…”

The Scott cuts him off, “now before you go an’ start all that self-deprecatin’ bullshi-”

“Johnny-” Simon tries again.

“I love you! An’ I know that-”

Simon lets out a low growl, once stemming from slight annoyance as he flicks his cigarette out and away from him in favor of taking Johnny’s face in his calloused palms and pressing lips firmly to his. It shuts the Scott up, and Simon can’t stop that stupid giddy feeling that he gets when familiar hands wrap around his waist. 

It doesn’t last long, just long enough for Simon to get the point across, and then he’s pulling away resting his forehead against Johnny’s. 

“If you’d let me get a bloody word out, I’d tell you yes.”

Johnny pauses at that - eyes widening slightly in that way that Simon always thinks looks like a puppy begging for more treats. 

“Really?”

Simon scoffs, not unkindly, and pulls away his hand still cupping warm cheeks. 

“Why’d ya ask if ya thought I’d say no?”

Johnny blushes at that, looking away, “Well I didnae think you’d say no…” he shrugs, “Just thought you’d take more convincin’ is all.”

Now it’s Simon’s turn to roll his eyes, as he finally drops his hands, holding his left one out slightly. 

“You gonna make me put it on myself?”

Johnny laughs then, a real laugh, the loud one that Simon pretends to hate but really truly loves - and then Johnny is taking the ring from the box and sliding it on Simon's left ring finger with more delicacy than he deserves. The metal is cool, smooth as it slides against his overheated skin, and as it sit snugly on his finger, Simon can’t help but flex them, the metal glinting in the moonlight.

“You picked good, Johnny,” he says lamely, not sure what else to say until he glances at Johnny’s left hand. 

“Now I need to get you one,” he says, “Can’t have people thinkin’ you’re single.”

Johnny smiles, digging around in his jeans pocket this time before producing an identical gold band to his own. “Way ahead of ya, L.T.”

Johnny goes to slide the band on, but Simon stops him, taking the metal ring from his fingers with a grumble of ‘hold it sergeant’ before he slips it over his ring finger. He doesn’t miss the way Johnny smiles down at their hands, all wrapped together as he gazes at the matching rings. 

Simon opens his mouth to say something, but a bright white flash of light from his left stops him and Johnny in their tracks. They both look over just in time to see Isobel fumbling with her phone behind the glass sliding door as Amelia scolds her and Mrs. MacTavish just gives her son a small thumbs up and watery smile. 

Johnny just groans and runs a hand down his face as the three women scatter, leaving them alone once more. 

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he rolls his eyes, “Sorry ‘bout them-”

Simon shakes his head, taking Johnny’s hand in his own as he turns to face the backyard again, thumb already running over the smooth metal ring. 

“Don’t worry about it, Johnny,” he says, waving him off. “I…it’s nice. Having a family again.”

Johnny smiles, giving Simon’s hand a soft squeeze before they both settle into a comfortable silence to watch the snow fall from the sky above them. 

And as the muffled sounds of Christmas music and soft chatter filter out from the house and Simon holds Johnny close…He can’t help but send a silent thought to his mother and brother. Wherever they are.

‘I’m not alone.’

The gentle kiss of a breeze answers him, whispering against his cheeks and wrapping around his legs, and for the first time since he can remember - 

Simon is at peace. 

[kvetchlandia]

William Vendetta Bob Newhart Doing Standup, the Mill Run Theater, Niles, IL 1973

“I don't like country music, but I don't mean to denigrate those who do. And for the people who like country music, denigrate means 'put down'.” Bob Newhart

Bob Newhart - 1929-2024 - Ave atque Vale

[knightofleo]

TRA​И​Ƨ​A by Red Hot Org

"Storied activist and music production non-profit Red Hot presents its latest project, TRAИƧA out November 22nd. With production beginning in 2021, and over 100 artists contributing, TRAИƧA marks one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken by Red Hot - a spiritual journey across 8 chapters and 46 songs, spotlighting the gifts of many of the most daring, imaginative trans and non-binary artists working today. It softens the edges of the world we know, and invokes powerful dreams of the futures that might one day thunder from its cracks. The album's instantly memorable cover speaks to the tension between nature and constructed environments, and the tension of transness in the western gender binary."

Adrianne Lenker, Ahya Simone, Alan Sparhawk (Low), Allison Russell, Am Taylor, Anajah, André 3000, Ana Roxanne, Anjimile, ANOHNI, Arthur Baker, Asher White, AV Maria, Babehoven, Bartees Strange, Belina Rose, Benét, Beverly Glenn-Copeland, Bill Callahan, Blake Mills, Bloomsday, Calvin Lauber, Caroline Rose, Cassandra Croft, Cassandra Jenkins, Ceyenne Doroshow, Christian Lee Hutson, Claire Rousay, Clairo, CLARITY, Cole Pulice, Devendra Banhart, Dirty Projectors, Eileen Myles, Eli Winter, Elizabeth Glenn-Copeland, Ezra Furman, Faye Webster, Fleet Foxes, Frank Cosmos, Gary Gunn, Gia Margaret, Green-House, Grouper, Hand Habits, Heart Shaped, Helado Negro, Hunter Schafer, Imara Jones, Jamal Shakeri, Jay Dee Daugherty, Jayne County, Jeff Tweedy, Jlin, Joy Guidry, Julianna Barwick, Julie Byrne, Julien Baker, Kara Jackson, Kathi Wilcox, Kb Borins, Kelela, L'rain, Laaraji, Laura Jane Grace, Lauren Auder, Lee Ranaldo, Lightning Bug, Lomelda, Lucy Liyou, Lynn Avery, Lyra Pramuk, Mary Lattimore, Mizu, Mojo Disco, Moor Mother, More Eaze, Moses Sumney, Nico Georis, Nina Keith, Niecy Blues, Nsámbu Za Suékama, Quinn Christopherson, Pepper Mashay, Perfume Genius, Pharoah Sanders, Rachika Nayar, Sade, Sam Smith, Sharon Van Etten, SOAK, Soft Rōnin, SKY, SPARKLE DIVISION (William Basinski), Taryn Blake Miller, Teddy Geiger, Time Wharp, Wendy & Lisa, Yaeji, Yaya Bey

[flyingfortress1]

Wilbur "Runner" Conley Research Part 1:

So, thanks to my county library's Ancestry subscription, I present to you my first research on our H Company boys- Wilbur "Runner" Conley! This is his census record from 1940 in Buffalo, New York- first of all, we know from Leckie that he had money, went to a prep school, was in sports.

The highlighted row is him- his father is an asst. manager at Rolling Mill (not sure I'm reading that right), his mother a housewife, Conley at school since he didn't graduate until May 1941, and he has a six year old sister.

Additionally- the Conley family has a LITERAL live in servant/housemaid, which is kinda wild- again, the other people on this street- some of them are listed as bankers, so pretty nice area. Now, they don't own the house, but they're renting it- probably for about 80 dollars a month (about 1800 in today's money), and thanks to the address, you can find his house. Here it is: 478 Starin Ave, Buffalo, NY. If we believe Zillow, it was pretty new in 1940- only ten years or less. So far, family has money right?

Except the weird thing is, the dad has 0 listed on his income but checked the box yes about receiving more than 50 dollars from wages or salary- so I don't know what's going on there, but he's getting money enough to support his family, renting nice house, and having a live in servant. If anyone has a clue, please drop a comment below. Next up, the senior yearbook.

[countryhixes]

(Written by Hank Mills). Issued as a SINGLE 5491 A and LP "Wanda Jackson Sings Country Songs" (1965). Recorded 12 April 1965 [no. 11895] Columbia Recording Studio, 804 16th Ave. South, Nashville, TN – Grady Martin [gt], Harold Bradley [gt], Lloyd Green [steel], Bob Moore [bass], Buddy Harman [drums], Charlie McCoy [french harp], Hargus Robbins or Floyd Cramer [piano] + Jordanaires. Producer: Ken Nelson.

[petterbrorson]

Det lilla vattenfallet, akvarell, 12x17 cm

Här är den tredje målningen av ruinerna efter den gamla sågen. Jag tror att den får avsluta den serien. Nästa serie kommer att porträttera stubbar. Det borde väl finnas en enorm marknad för tavlor med stubbar, eller hur?!? Samlare, ställ er i kö...

...

The small falls, watercolour, 12x17 cm Here's the third painting of the the ruins of the old saw mill. This completes this set, I think. The next set will portray tree stumps. There must be a massive market for paintings of tree stumps, don't you think?!? Collectors, stand in line...