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thechanelmuse · 11 months

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Juneteenth is a Black American holiday.

We call Juneteenth many things: Black Independence Day, Freedom Day, Emancipation Day, Jubilee Day. We celebrate and honor our ancestors.

December 31 is recognized as Watch Night or Freedom’s Eve in Black American churches because it marks the day our enslaved ancestors were awaiting news of their freedom going into 1863. On January 1, 1863, President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. But all of the ancestors wouldn’t be freed until June 19, 1865 for those in Galveston, Texas and even January 23, 1866 for those in New Jersey (the last slave state). (It’s also worth noting that our people under the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations wouldn’t be freed until April 28, 1866 and June 14, 1866 for those under the Cherokee Nation by way of the Treaties.)

Since 1866, Black Americans in Texas have been commemorating the emancipation of our people by way of reading the Emancipation Proclamation and coming together to have parades, free festivities, and later on pageants. Thereafter, it spread to select states as an annual day of commemoration of our people in our homeland.

Here’s a short silent video filmed during the 1925 Juneteenth celebration in Beaumont, Texas:

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(It’s also worth noting that the Mascogos tribe in Coahuila, Mexico celebrate Juneteenth over there as well. Quick history lesson: A total of 305,326 Africans were shipped to the US to be enslaved alongside of American Indians who were already or would become enslaved as prisoners of war, as well as those who stayed behind refusing to leave and walk the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma. In the United States, you were either enslaved under the English territories, the Dutch, the French, the Spanish, or under the Nations of what would called the Five “Civilized” Native American Tribes: Cherokee, Creek (Muscogee), Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Seminoles. Mascogos descend from the Seminoles who escaped slavery during the Seminole Wars, or the Gullah Wars that lasted for more than 100 years if you will, and then settled at El Nacimiento in 1852.)

We largely wave our red, white and blue flags on Juneteenth. These are the only colors that represent Juneteenth. But sometimes you may see others wave our Black American Heritage flag (red, black, and gold).

Juneteenth is a day of respect. It has nothing to do with Africa, diversity, inclusion, immigration, your Pan-African flag, your cashapps, nor your commerce businesses. It is not a day of “what about” isms. It is not a day to tap into your inner colonizer and attempt to wipe out our existence. That is ethnocide and anti-Black American. If you can’t attend a Black American (centered) event that’s filled with education on the day, our music, our food and other centered activities because it’s not centered around yours…that is a you problem. Respect our day for what and whom it stands for in our homeland.

Juneteenth flag creator: “Boston Ben” Haith

It was created in 1997. The red, white and blue colors represent the American flag. The five-point star represents the Lone State (Texas). The white burst around the star represents a nova, the beginning of a new star. The new beginning for Black Americans.

Black American Heritage Flag creators: Melvin Charles & Gleason T. Jackson

It was created in 1967, our Civil Rights era. The color black represents the ethnic pride for who we are. Red represents the blood shed for freedom, equality, justice and human dignity. Gold fig wreath represents intellect, prosperity, and peace. The sword represents the strength and authority exhibited by a Black culture that made many contributions to the world in mathematics, art, medicine, and physical science, heralding the contributions that Black Americans would make in these and other fields.

SN: While we’re talking about flags, I should note that Grace Wisher, a 13-year-old free Black girl from Baltimore helped stitched the Star Spangled flag, which would inspire the national anthem during her six years of service to Mary Pickersgill. I ain’t even gon hold you. I never looked too far into it, but she prob sewed that whole American flag her damn self. They love lying about history here until you start unearthing them old documents.

In conclusion, Juneteenth is a Black American holiday. Respect us and our ancestors.

#juneteenth #juneteenth flag #black american history #black american culture #ben haith #black american heritage flag #melvin charles #gleason t jackson #grace wisher #american flag #mascogos #juneteenth 2023

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disasterarea-podcast · 5 months

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Okay, I know I probably don’t need to explain this to all of you, but also I want to talk to *somebody* about how I wish I had the sort of pull that would let me see “Society of the Snow” before it ends up on @netflix on January 4th.

“Alive” came out when I was in high school. I was a sophomore, I think? I just know I watched it a bunch for historical reasons (disaster! Survival! Struggle!) and superficial reasons (I was sixteen and Ethan Hawke was in danger!). It was on HBO a lot back then. Or it felt that way, because I watched it every time it came on.

As per usual, I watched the movie, so I went and got the book. (I have an Audible credit, so I’m preordering the audiobook of “Society of the Snow” for work. It comes out in a couple of days, FYI.) The movie is … sanitized, to say the least. They can’t avoid the eating of the dead, or showing it on occasion. But in real life, the situation was more blatant, because … well, who are you going to hide it from? They ate everything else, or at least tried to, before resorting to the dead. And then when they did resort to the dead, they ate it ALL.

The thing is, Uruguayan culture was heavy on beef. “Alive” (the book) describes it the way the Irish depended on potatoes. Eating the dead was difficult, but as Catholics they were able to talk it out and tie it into the rosary and taking the body and blood of Christ into their own. I’m not even a Catholic anymore, but I think even my latent Catholic training might kick in just a tad to help reassure me in a situation like that if I had doubts. (Note: I have been doing this podcast for WAY too long. Survival cannibalism wouldn’t even make me bat an eye at this point.)

My point is that in the real situation, the survivors used everything. And I mean everything. There were only three or four parts of the body they couldn’t eat - I think the genitals were on that list, but don’t quote me on it - but the rest? They picked the bodies clean. They needed to. There’s a photo of the survivors sitting outside the plane, hanging out, smiling for the camera. It’s usually edited. Everything else is kept, but what is usually clipped or blurred is a very clear shot of a human spine, not a spot of meat left on it, just … lying there. It might as well be an airplane seat, or a discarded jacket, or any of the other items scattered about.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for every single one of the people who went through that ordeal. The details are traumatizing enough without having lived through it. Every time somebody makes a “rugby players eat their dead” joke, I cringe.

So here I am sitting watching “Alive” again, because fuck it. The thing is, I have a fondness for this movie based a lot on high school and watching it lots and it introducing me to a survival story I’d never heard of. But I would always be the first to point out I’d love a redo. It’s not as accurate as it could be, it’s in English, it misses out on things like Carlitos Paez’s father searching for him and the others the whole damn time and the reception after they came back.

I’m hoping “Society of the Snow” has all of the things the first movie lacked. I want to see the reception when they came back. I can’t wait to see Carlitos playing his dad, and I hope we get that moment where he reads the list of survivors over the radio and his voice breaks when he gets to his son’s name. I hope we get the reality of survival cannibalism — that it’s not murder, that it’s not pretty, that you might get a little blinded to the horror of the reality.

The trailers for “Society of the Snow” gives me hope it does the story the justice it deserves. There are so many disaster stories that, while they may have gotten TV movies, I would love to see done for the big screen. Hillsborough. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. The Galveston Hurricane. The Johnstown flood. But honestly, the trailers for “Society of the Snow” look gorgeous and respectful. Let’s do more movies like this for more disasters.

#tw cannibalism #tw survival cannibalism #society of the snow #if Netflix needs someone to come up with ideas for movies about real-life disasters I am THERE

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chaotic-archaeologist · 2 years

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Hi there, as your friendly Tumblr Civil War historical professional, I want to say a couple of things about Juneteenth. This holiday marks the anniversary of the day that the last enslaved people in the United States were set free. Let's talk about some dates and numbers.

On June 19th, 1865, the enslaved people living in Galveston, Texas learned that the Civil War had ended, and that they were free. The Emancipation Proclamation was issued on September 22nd, 1862, and came into effect on January 1st, 1863.

There were approximately 3.5 million people enslaved in the United States at the beginning of the Civil War. It took 900 days from the implementation of the Emancipation Proclamation for the last of those people to be given the freedom that was their universal human right. But in reality, it's even longer than that. On August 30th, 1861, General Fremont declared martial law in Missouri and ordered the emancipation of all enslaved people in the state. It goes without saying that no person should have ever been enslaved.

The 13th Amendment did not abolish slavery. There are currently 2.3 million people imprisoned in the United States. Black people accounted for more than 30% of the US prison population in 2014, and Black people are incarcerated at more than 5 times the rates of white people. (Source)

So let's take today to celebrate Juneteenth, the anniversary of when the last enslaved people in the US finally learned of their freedom. But as we do so, we need to remember that we must to better.

#he speaks #juneteenth #american civil war

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madhattersez · 1 year

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Hell yeah! Had an awesome find at a thrift shop today - A 1929 Southwestern Bell Telephone technical manual and installation guide for phones of the era.

Maybe you're asking why I think this is awesome? Haha. That makes sense - Well, first of all, I -live- vintage stuff. Antiques, old books, weird ephemera of the past. This definitely fits in with all of that, and has a gorgeous, punched leather cover with the gold stamping. Such a slick piece of history.

Second, I'm an old computer nerd cat. Back in the early '90s, I was a phone phreak - a phone hacker back before mobile phones and even alphanumeric pagers were a thing. It was in these days that "Ma Bell" (Southwestern Bell) was a big Queen on the scene, in her prime.

What were common phreaker practices back in the day? Well, it was all about exploration and curiosity. We would wardial (using our home landline connections and modems to dial a huge list of numbers in a row to try and find systems on the other end rather than regular phones - I'd leave it on all day and come back with a shorter list of various systems to dial in and play around on), we would build blue (and other color) boxes from RadioShack parts to use payphones to make free calls and do all sorts of rad tricks, we would prank folks that deserved it or use said tricks to disrupt schools and business, we would navigate voicemail systems and change automatic messages, and we would generate credit card numbers (which was incredibly easy back in the day) to make free calls to our first girlfriends in Canada. Well, that last one was mostly a me thing, haha.

Basically, payphones and early phone systems were a wonderful, incredible playground for me and I have SO many fond memories of these times. To have a book like this in my hands feels like I just looked inside the Ark of the Covenant and instead of melting my face off, it just glowed real bright and whistled a 2600hz tone sweetly into my ears.

This has so many cool photos like the ones above, and lots of radical technical diagrams, too.

As a bonus, there are hand-typed notes from a division head telephone engineer that wrote about systems they were building in Galveston, TX in the '60s:

Anyways, this is such a cool relic and I'll probably not be able to bring myself to sell it.

Did you know I wrote a verse about being a phreaker for a song with Nerdcore legend YTCracker wayyyyyy back in 2010? Well, now you do. You can hear that here (I'm the second dude, of course):

#phone phreak #phreak #phreaker #hacker #hackers #southwestern bell #ma bell #phone hacking #hacking #old books #vibtage books #antique books #treasure #thrift store finds #antiques #leatherwork #nerecore #madhatter #ytcracker

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ktwritesstuff · 8 months

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Then Comes Marriage (a Last of Us fic)

Title: Then Comes Marriage Fandom: The Last of Us (no-pocalypse AU) Rating: PG Characters & Pairings: Joel Miller x plus size!Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Summary: The rough and ready followup to First Comes Love. Wedding day fluff.

A/N: Apologies for the lack of smuttiness, but I feel that wedding night sex is overrated. Un-beta'd, may God have mercy on my soul.

In lieu of a bachelor party, Joel and Tommy chartered a fishing boat out of Galveston the week before the wedding. You hadn’t vetoed strippers–it would hardly be fair after the Cirque du Soleil-level adult performer your sister had hired for the bachelorette weekend you spent with her in New York. You suspected it was more for Sarah’s sake than yours, but Joel had politely insisted (to Tommy’s great disappointment) he was getting too old for that sort of thing.

While the Miller boys spent some quality time on the Gulf, you and Sarah got to have your own girls’ weekend. You went to the mall for mani-pedis and had lunch at the Chinese buffet. In J.C. Penney, a saleswoman at the makeup counter helped you both pick out new lipstick and eye-shadow for the big day. Just because it was a simple courthouse affair didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun with it. After you took Sarah over to the jewelry counter as well.

“Why don’t you pick something out?” you said. “I want to get you something for being my bridesmaid.”

Sarah looked over the display case and ran her fingers over a display of charm bracelets. Her fingers paused on a gold bracelet bearing the word MOM.

“What should I call you,” she asked. “After you and my dad get married?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” you said. “I’d love it if you decide to call me mom one day, but I certainly don’t expect it.”

Sarah shrugged. “Do you think you’ll have kids of your own?”

“We’ve talked about it,” you said. “We’re going to try, but it doesn’t always work out.”

Neither you nor Joel were exactly spring chickens and unless you wanted to be mistaken for grandparents in the kindergarten pickup line you’d have to get started. The truth was you had already thrown protection to the wind the past few months, so far without success and you could already feel the anxiety mounting. You told yourself that three was enough; three was a family, but there was still a powerful yearning inside you.

Of course, Sarah didn’t need to hear about that. You could sympathize with her reservations. Not many of her friends or classmates had a thirteen year age gap with their siblings.

“I know it’d probably be weird for you to have a baby brother or sister,” you admitted. “But I hope you know no matter what, you’ll always be your daddy’s baby girl.”

Sarah turned the bracelet over in her hands so the lettering formed a different word as she waved it in front of your face.

“Wow,” she teased. “That was cheesy as hell.”

“You know what I mean,” you said, nudging her arm.

“No wonder you and my dad fell in love,” she said, rolling her eyes.

When the clerk came back around the counter, Sarah chose a teardrop shaped ruby on a gold chain that would compliment the dress that Joel had gotten her to wear for the ceremony.

“I think you should have a baby,” Sarah said as you walked through the parking lot, content with your purchases. “I charge $20 an hour for babysitting.”

You laughed. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“$15 once they’re out of diapers,” she added.

“Fair enough.”

You took Sarah home and stayed with her until Joel and Tommy got back, sun-kissed and still a little hungover. You and Joel had agreed not to see each other again before the ceremony on Friday, which gave you some time to pack up your apartment and put the finishing touches on the flowers.

Your sister flew in the day before to scout the best locations around the courthouse for family photos. She did your hair and makeup in the morning and offered to drive you to the courthouse, but you didn’t quite trust her behind the wheel.

Once you made it through courthouse security you met Tommy in the lobby and he wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“Are we all checked in?” you asked.

“Yeah, they’ve got us in courtroom 6,” Tommy pointed down the hall. “Supposed to be about a half hour.”

You realized you were shaking as you swapped out your flats for a more elegant pair of heels and Tommy reached out to steady you.

“How you holding up, buddy?”

“You know, I’m good,” you said. “How is he?”

“The same,” Tommy said with a bright smile. “I think he’s really keeping it together; only asked me about 50 times if I thought you were still coming.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you said, letting out a peal of nervous laughter.

“I’m running down to the cafe to grab a coffee, do you want anything?”

“Water,” you said, your stomach churning at the thought of fried food and burnt coffee. “Maybe a ginger ale–with a straw–” Your sister would kill you if you ruined your lipstick before taking a single photo.

“You got it, Sis,” Tommy gave you a thumbs up.

“Emma’s got your boutonniere if you want to grab it on your way down,” you explained, pointing back to the metal detectors where your sister was still reinstalling her various piercings.

Once you were both sorted, you gathered the rest of the flowers and started down the hall. Then you saw Joel. He was pacing back and forth across the hall, but froze on the spot when he saw you.

You always thought he was handsome (or at least, almost always) but seeing him all put together in a dark navy suit, with a vest no less! It was surreal, for a moment you forgot this was the man you were supposed to be marrying in a little less than half an hour.

“You look beautiful,” Joel said, leaning over to kiss you.

“Not on the mouth!” Emma screamed, still lagging a few steps behind you and Joel leapt back in alarm.

“I did not bring enough makeup wipes to clean you both up,” she warned, combing her fingers through Joel’s hair unsolicited, arranging his curls more to her liking. For his part, Joel was very patient with her or at least too nervous to protest.

“You two shouldn’t be kissing before the ceremony anyway,” Sarah chimed in.

“You look beautiful, sweetie,” you said, beaming at Sarah.

Emma handed you Joel’s boutonniere and snapped a few pictures as you pinned it to his lapel–a red rosebud and yellow alyssum to match the sunflowers in your bouquet with a few sprigs of evergreen for balance.

“You look very handsome,” you said, resting your hand on his chest.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Joel said.

“Me, too,” you giggled.

Joel rested his big hands on your bare arms and pressed his forehead toward yours. You felt like a teenager with butterflies in your stomach and bubbles in your throat.

“We got you something, too,” Joel said, taking a small box out of his jacket.

Inside was a delicate gold necklace with “MOM” in cursive letters suspended between the two sides of the chain. As simple as it was, it felt like a great honor as Joel reached to fasten it around your neck.

“Dad, you put it on wrong,” Sarah protested, reaching for the charm nestled at the base of your throat and flipping it over “It’s supposed to go like this. Now you’re my Wow.”

You laughed, holding the charm between your fingers, contemplating your own special nickname.

“I love it,” you said, pulling Sarah into a hug. You heard the click of Emma’s camera as you embraced, but you ignored it. “I love it so much.”

Emma had the three of you pose for more photographs and then you took a seat on the wooden bench while she had Sarah and Joel stand together on their own.

“For the bride,” Tommy said, trotting down the hallway with a can of soda in hand. “With a straw.”

“Now let’s get one of the boys,” Emma said, herding Tommy and Joel into the good lighting.

Sarah took a seat beside you as you sipped the ginger ale to try settle your stomach.

“How are your feet?” you asked, watching her point and flex her toes in her sweet little kitten heels. “Mine are already killing me. Try not to lock your knees–cuts off the circulation.”

Sarah shrugged, leaning against your shoulder. You reached for her hand, looping your pinky finger around hers. You never imagined as a child that your wedding day would come complete with a nearly grown up daughter, but now that it was here you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“We’re ready for you,” a clerk announced, poking his head out the door.

In the judge’s chamber you signed the marriage certificate and recited your vows with Tommy and Emma as witnesses.

“I’m told you’re exchanging rings,” the judge said.

“Oh shit,” Tommy rifled through the inner pockets of his jacket while you laughed nervously.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel groaned as Tommy finally handed over the rings.

Joel went first, gripping your hand as if he still expected you to try to run as he repeated after the judge and slipped the ring on your finger. Then it was your turn.

“Joel,” you said. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you.”

“By the power vested in me by the great state of Texas,” the judge declared finally. “In the presence of God and the witness of friends and family, it is my great privilege to pronounce you husband and wife–”

Without hesitation, Joel took your face in both his hands and kissed you on the mouth. You smiled against his lips as a wave of relief flooded your body. A tornado hadn’t destroyed the courthouse, aliens hadn’t invaded, you had done it. You were officially married.

Tommy had a friend from the service who had opened up a Salvadoran restaurant in San Antonio who had offered you the use of the back room to host a small reception with friends. You ate pupusas and drank sangria and danced your first dance when “Love Me Tender” came on over the classic radio station playing from the bar.

You were surprised to learn Joel was actually a quite willing dance partner, at least after a few beers. His strong arms and firm hold on your waist made it easy to follow his lead despite how out of practice you were.

By the end of the day you were so tired (and at least a little tipsy) that you nearly got into a car with one of Tommy’s army buddies while Joel went to pull the truck around and gave everyone a good laugh.

“I’m going to stay with Uncle Tommy tonight,” Sarah said as you loaded up the car.

“Are you sure?” you asked as Emma made sure you were safely arranged in the passenger seat of the truck. You worried about putting Sarah out of her home as your first act as her step-mother.

“I’ve got her, don’t worry,” Tommy said, handing you a doggy-bag from the restaurant. “This is from Dan and Gia. Good night, guys. Love you both.”

“I love you, too,” you crooned out the window as he closed the car door for you. “I always wanted a baby brother named Tommy.”

The last of the guests waved sparklers as Joel pulled out of the parking lot. You opened the bag on your lap and squealed with excitement at the sight of a large piece of tres leches cake.

“Oh my god, this was so good,” you moaned. “I had two pieces! I had seis leches.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Joel chuckled as you ripped open the little plastic package of flatware. “I’m pretty sure that’s for the anniversary.”

“You think I’m going to let this cake get freezer-burn for a year?”

You stabbed the cake with a fork, scooping the moist, creamy cake into your mouth. And just to be fair, you held the next bite out to Joel as you were stopped at an intersection.

“That’s good, right?” you said, wiping a bit of cream from his chin. “You want more?”

“I’m stuffed,” Joel waved you off, pulling the car into the driveway. “Home sweet home.”

Joel came around to open the car door and help you out of the truck. On the porch you both paused, having a moment of internal debate. Joel clearly thought he should carry you over the threshold, but you didn’t want him throwing out his back on your wedding night.

“I can lift you,” he said. “It’s bad luck, you know, for the bride to walk over the threshold.”

“It’s bad luck for the bride to trip,” you said. “Just don’t let me fall.”

You reached for Joel’s hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Inside the house you indulged in loud moans and sloppy love-drunk kisses on your way to the bedroom, but once your ass made contact with the bed you remembered all at once that you had been up since five in the morning being primped and poked and coiffed to perfection.

“I’m so tired,” you moaned.

“You don’t want to?” Joel paused, his hands knotted in your panties already half-way down your thighs.

“No,” you sighed. “I want to, just don’t be offended if I nod off half-way through, okay?”

“You’re sure,” he said, sitting up in bed.

“Yeah, just let me wash my face first." You reluctantly climbed out of the bed.

Joel let his hands linger on your face, placing a kiss on your mouth.

“Unzip me?” you said, turning your back to him and sweeping your hair off your neck.

“Of course, Mrs. Miller.”

Joel slid your zipper down carefully, but as he moved his hands lower you ducked away from him, wagging a finger in his face. You slipped out of your dress and went to the bathroom to scrub your face, putting on a satin night dress.

Back in the bedroom Joel was stretched out on his stomach in bed, snoring softly, and you chuckled, slipping under the covers beside him. You snugged yourself against his solid warmth and ran one manicured nail down his nose as he slept.

“I love you, Mr. Miller.”

#the last of us fanfiction #last of us au #joel miller x reader #joel miller x plus size reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #troy baker adjacent #tlou smut #joel miller smut

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months

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Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller chapter 5 sneak peek

You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leaves traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess.

Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of the hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices.

“Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you.

“Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane.

“I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge.

“Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all.

“Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down.

He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.

“Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Atta girl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.

“Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state.

“I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out.

“Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly.

“Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again.

“What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch.

“Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled.

“What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead.

You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning.

“Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”

Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.”

“You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin.

“I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek.

He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?

“Joel…”

“Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes.

You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his.

“You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly.

“I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face.

You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #soft joel miller #soft!joel miller

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naturesfirstgreenisgold · 7 months

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Childhood lovers with Jake ‘H_ngm_n’ Seresin

All the Pretty Girls- Kenny Chesney

American Kids- Kenny Chesney

Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not- Thompson Square

Austin- Blake Shelton

Beautiful Crazy- Luke Combs

Buy Dirt- Jordan Davis, Luke Bryan

Carrying Your Love With Me- George Strait

Chicken Fried- Zac Brown Band

Cover Me Up- Morgan Wallen

Cowboy Take Me Away- The Chicks

Crash My Party- Luke Bryan

Craving You- Thomas Rhett, Maren Morris

Diamond In My Pocket-Cody Johnson

Die A Happy Man-Thomas Rhett

Dirt On My Boots-Jon Pardi

Dirt Road Anthem-Jason Aldean

Do l- Luke Bryan

Drunk On You-Luke Bryan

Even Though I'm Leaving-Luke Combs

Fast Car- Luke Combs

Feathered Indians- Tyler Childers

Fire Away- Chris Stapleton

Footloose- Kenny Loggins

Forever & Ever Amen- Randy Travis

Galveston- Glen Campbell

God Gave Me You- Blake Shelton

Greatest Love Story- LANCO

Hard To Love- Lee Brice

Heading South- Zach Bryan

Head Carolina, Tails California- Jo Dee Messina

Heartache On The Dance Floor- Jon Parti

Heart Like A Truck- Lainey Wilson

He Could Be The One- Hannah Montana

Hold My Hand- Lady Gaga

Home- Blake Shelton

Hometown Girl-Josh Turner

Honey Bee- Blake Shelton

Hotel California- The Eagles

I Ain’t Worried- OneRepublic

I Don’t Dance- CHAD, Ryan, Disney

I Don’t Dance- Lee Brice

I Don’t Want This Night To End- Luke Bryan

I Drive Your Truck- Lee Brice

If I Didn’t Love You- Jason Aldean, Carrie Underwood

If I Was Your Man- Blake Shelton

I Like The Sound Of That- Rascal Flatts

I’ll Name the Dogs- Blake Shelton

I’m Comin’ Over- Chris Young

I’m In A Hurry (And I Don’t Know Why)- Alabama

I Wish Grandpas Never Died- Riley Green

The Kind of Love We Make- Luke Combs

Last Night- Morgan Wallen

Life in the Fast Lane-Eagles

Life’s a Dance- John Micheal Montgomery

Like I Love Country Music- Kane Brown

Love Like Crazy-Lee Brice

Lovin' On You Luke Combs

Meet In the Middle-Diamond Rio

Must Be Doin' Somethin' Right-Billy Currington

My Maria-Brooks & Dunn

New Kid In Town - Eagles

Night Shift- Jon Pardi

Nobody But You- Blake Shelton, Gwen Stefani

ONE BEER- HARDY, Lauren Alaina, Devin Dawson

One Of Them Girls- Lee Brice

One of These Nights -Eagles

One Thing At A Time- Morgan Wallen

Playing with the Boys -Kenny Loggins

Play It Again- Luke Bryan

Renegade- Styx

Rhinestone Cowboy-Glen Campbell

Rumor- Lee Brice

Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)-Big & Rich

She Got the Best of Me- Luke Combs

She Had Me At Heads Carolina-Cole Swindell

She's Country- Jason Aldean

Sixteen-Thomas Rhett

Slow Dance In A Parking Lot-Jordan Davis

Small Town Boy- Dustin Lynch

Sold- John Michael Montgomery

Somebody's Problem-Morgan Wallen

Something in the Orange-Zach Bryan

Song of the South-Alabama

Southern Nights- Glen Campbell

Stay-Florida Georgia Line

Strawberry Wine-Deana Carter

Sure Be Cool If- Blake Shelton

Take It Easy -Eagles

Take My Breath Away -Berlin

There Was This Girl-Riley Green

Things a Man Oughta Know-Lainey Wilson

Thought You Should Know-Morgan Wallen

Til You Can't- Cody Johnson

Two Dozen Roses- Shenandoah

Unforgettable- Thomas Rhett

Wagon Wheel- Darius Rucker

The Way I Talk -Morgan Wallen

What Ifs- Kane Brown, Lauren Alaina

Why Don't We Just Dance-Josh Turner

Write This Down-George Strait

You Should Be Here-Cole Swindell

#playlist #spotify #top gun fandom #sereshaw #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #country #country music

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billa-billa007 · 8 months

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youtube

Stay Galveston Beaches || StayGalveston

Galveston Island has a beach for every type of visitor, whether you're looking for a lively atmosphere or a peaceful getaway. Galveston Island is home to several beaches that offer visitors a range of amenities and activities. Stewart Beach is a popular family-friendly destination, with lifeguards on duty, showers, concessions, and a pavilion. East Beach is known for its party atmosphere and hosts various events throughout the year

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anushkaanu · 9 months

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Rum Shack | StayGalveston

Experience the tropical vibes and savor the taste of the Caribbean at the Rum Shack on Galveston Island. Enjoy a wide selection of rum, craft beer, and specialty cocktails all in a fun and relaxed atmosphere. With great music and friendly staff, you're sure to find the perfect drink to help you unwind and enjoy your stay in Galveston. Come by for a great night out and an experience you won't forget.

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jonphaedrus · 2 years

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why i hate bowling (and how this resulted in me suplexing a child into a trash bin full of water)

i wasn’t going to tell a story tonight but then i rediscovered a draft of storify tweets from my since-deleted for threatening my friends with crimes so i will instead tell the story about why i absolutely hate bowling, with my entire heart and soul, to a degree that is both irrational and probably unhealthy.

first of all, i love sock puppets. so jot that down. sock puppets are fucking rad. there is something about putting your hand in a sock and pretending to talk with it that is just so...so soothing. like making a little clay dude.

second of all, i have a junior black belt in karate. as a child i was small, fast, angry, and just full of seething, roiling violence and rage.

third of all, i was not informed i was neurodivergent until i was 16. thanks, court mandated medical care!

so once upon a time in the tender grasp of 6th grade (age 12) before i did stupid things like “skiing accident” and “put my foot through a wall slip on a dog bed give myself a quite significant head injury by levering backwards without a counterbalance headfirst into a wooden floor like one of those drinky birds but in reverse and with exponential force compressed onto it” i was informed we were going to go on a field trip.

look, i’m from austin, texas. there are three field trips in austin, texas. you go to the alamo, you go to nasa, or you go to the bob bullock museum of texas history. sometimes, if you’re really lucky you go to galveston or something, but that’s almost never going to happen. it’s just alamo/nasa/bob bullock/alamo on repeat. you don’t just remember the alamo, you’ve got rocks stuck in your shoes from the alamo and you horrify your friends and get in trouble with the teachers by being a child with a hyperfixation special interest in davy crocket and giving graphic details about jim bowie’s death that, frankly, 5th graders should probably not be exposed to.

in 6th grade, we were told we were getting a very special reward: a NEW FIELD TRIP DESTINATION. and not just ANY field trip destionation—no! we were going to go to one of the best art museums in the city to make SOCK PUPPETS as a part of an art installation. WHO DOESNT WANT TO DO THIS? THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL.

6th grade cisboys obviously do not want to do this. art museums are for girls or weird kids and sock puppets are for babies.

well, fuck that: i wanted to make sock puppets. i got so excited. i picked my favorite pair of turtle socks to turn into puppets and brought them along on our hour-long bus ride, practically vibrating in my seat like oh yeah oh fuck oh yeah oh fuck im gonna get to make TURTLE SOCK PUPPETS it was going to be the highlight of my LIFE

so our bus finally parks and im like “wait. this isnt...the museum” and then my 6th grade english teacher, whom i loathed for so many good reasons but mostly that he was one of Those english teachers who would reply “i don’t know, CAN you?” if you asked him if you could go to the bathroom, etc, popped out on the front of the bus

“surprise!” he announced, practically radiating sunshine rainbows and like whatever it is that makes annoying grammar nerds decide that they need to grow up and become a heinous 6th grade english teacher that bullies neurodivergent kids with trauma, “i was KIDDING! we were never going to go make SOCK PUPPETS at that stupid ART MUSEUM! that’s KID STUFF. we’re going BOWLING with a PIZZA PARTY!!!”

like any neurodivergent child who has just had their entire day’s plan and all their hopes and dreams ripped from them, i immediately tackled him and gnawed his hands and feet off, stuck them on pikes, and paraded them around the bowling alley as a lesson to all those who should cross me.

no i didn’t do that: i cried for a while and then sucked it up and determined that i was going to have a good time anyway. despite the fact that a) i already hated bowling and was demonstrably bad at it b) couldn’t wear bowling shoes because of my orthodics c) couldn’t eat any of the pizza party pizza anyway because my mother is chabadnik and kept strict kosher d) as a chabadnik kid i was wearing a floor-length skirt which really isn’t conducive to bowling and e) I HAD FUCKING WANTED TO MAKE FUCKING SOCK PUPPETS.

anyway. there was this guy. who i had a crush on. and everyone knew i had a crush on him, including him. his name was grey (not some 50 shades of grey thing, really) and he got someone to come get me and was like hey grey wants to talk to youuuuu~~~~~~ and i was like oh (gasp) (blush) (sputter) he does???

so i went over to talk to him like hee hee hi grey hee hee and it turned out he’d just wanted to ask me some inane question and i was understandably let down and went back to my friends like w/e it’s just stupid boys shit™

only

when i arrived back at my friends

everyone was laughing at me.

which was like. not an entirely unexpected turn of events. i broke my nose twice that year. i kicked over an entire jar of soy wax candle onto my ankle and got a 2nd degree burn. i was, in general, a very weird, unmedicated, undiagnosed, orthodox jewish child with too much energy and a penchant for starting fights. getting laughed at was kind of par for the course.

only people kept laughing at me until one of my friends realized as i turned around what they’d done to me, because one of his friends had taped a sign to my back that said “I AM A STUPID BITCH”

texas public school says “we didn’t see this happen, we can’t do anything about it, not our problem!” so of course i hate bowling now. but this is not where this ended, oh no. because i had been tried. i had been bullied by this same kid all year and nobody would do shit about it. i could not stop him. i could not get teachers to intervene.

which is fine.

because, you see, if you give a furious small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt four months to plan, that small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt will bide their time, and wait, patiently, for the stars to align and the ultimate moment of vengeance to arrive.

you see, texas schools do this thing. at the end of may for the end of the school year, they have a track and field day. it’s different for every school—some of them do races, some of them have big tug of war and different sports for different grades. some are organized. some are chaotic nightmares.

my school was a chaotic nightmare of a place. they simply booted all of us outside in a normal 100f/37c day to get our energy out by running about, playing minimally policed “sports” and generally make a nuisance of ourselves outside, rather than indoors.

that year it was particularly hot, probably closer to 110f/40c than not, so they left out these big trash bins of water for people to stick their heads in or get buckets to pour over them to cool off. i had no sports i could play (see: floor length skirt, and also, you know, the eds kinds of makes it difficult to do shit) so rather than get involved in something to burn out my energy...i waited.

i waited through the semi-organized sports of the morning. i waited through our indoors luncheon. i waited until the free for all of the afternoon, when teachers were not paying attention.

i waited until the kid who had decided that it would be sooooo funny to tape a sign about how much of a bitch i was because i had a harmless crush on his friend to my back was playing volleyball. invested. entranced.

i went and got a trash bin of water, probably taller than i was, weighing at least triple what i did (i was a pound per inch until i was 13, so i was 63in tall and 63lbs at that time) and i dragged it down the hill. i dragged it over to the volleyball court. i opened the lid. i placed it, strategically, behind me.

there sat the subject of my ire. playing volleyball. he had not noticed me. every other kid had noticed me. his friends did not take me seriously. i was two twigs stuck together with sticky tac. what was i going to do to him?

well, see, they didn’t know i did karate.

i walked up behind the kid, calmly, cool as you please, grabbed him around the waist—

—and suplexed him backwards upside-down headfirst into the trash bin full of water and dropped him into it. and then i shut the lid on him as he tried to get turned around and spluttering, dusted my hands off, and walked away.

we ended up going to the same high school, and he saw me literally one time in the hallways and ran away so fast i would’ve thought he’d just been recognized by his unfinished homework or the three girls he was cheating on because he was football team quarterback. he did that for two years. literally never came within 20ft of me. fucking terrified of me.

anyway, that’s why i hate bowling. and is also the story of the time i suplexed a kid backwards into a trashcan full of water.

#this is a stable writing tag

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