brick mortar

i had one song on repeat the entire time i walked around those streets you used to know but baby, so much has changed;
old buildings we loved are gone, the shops we used to visit are ghosts now, brick-and-mortar memories, nothing more;
new skyscrapers have been built, they tower over the fire hydrants and manholes and sidewalks and everything, the potted plants and fenced-off little trees and fountains;
i wanted to keep walking, to walk all night and meet the sunrise with tired red eyes but a newfound smile but something pulled me back, pulled me back home;
i found a taxi in all that city mess and rode home – it took about an hour to come home, after a relatively uneventful ride and a lobby and some stairs, but i made it back;
i made it back to a home stained with regret and uncertainty, a home colder and lonelier now that you weren’t there – maybe you were a part of my heart, maybe not, who knows?
but i know for a fact that you leaving wasn’t fireworks or mountains falling back into place, it was every manhole opening under my feet, every fire hydrant going off, it was the sky falling in blocks upon my head;
i’ll never see you again – i mean, maybe in a crowd somewhere on the other side of this planet, or maybe on mars when we get there, or on pluto, tending your ice garden – but for now i have to live with your constant ghost floating over my shoulders
—  but you know what? i’ll be okay. i’ve seen catastrophies way worse than the one you put me through. i’ll bathe in salt, light some candles, and expel your specter from my home. i’ll be able to start again

Desert, encampment
Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan
How I admire and love
You, tyranny free, unmasked
You shouldn’t live under the
Cover, afraid, no more, you’ve
Lost your children, your fathers
And mothers, this destruction
The bricks, mortar, sand and
Stone, crumbled, yet we will
Rebuild, generations, will learn
To trust, grow, explode, into the
Dawn and twilight, of a glorious
Radiant Middle-eastern sun

Alternative Music Zodiac Edition:

Aries: Pumped up kicks (Foster the people)

Taurus: Old boy (Brick + Mortar)

Gemini: Stolen Dance (Milky Chance)

Cancer: R U Mine (Arctic Monkeys)

Leo: Riptide (Vance Joy)

Virgo: Cigarette Daydreams (Cage the Elephant)

Libra: Take me to church (Hoizer)

Scorpio: Dangerous (Big Data)

Sagittarius: Skinny love (Birdy)

Capricorn: Do I wanna know (Arctic Monkeys)

Aquarius: Sugar, We’re goin’ down (Fall out boy)

Pisces: I wanna get better (Bleachers)

Image: Peter Reynolds, owner of Blue Bunny Books in Dedham, Mass. (Robin Lubbock/WBUR)

Amazon has opened its latest brick-and-mortar bookstore in Dedham, Mass. (its first on the East Coast). But Peter Reynolds, who owns an independent bookstore just up the road, isn’t too worried.

He says, “At first my heart sort of sunk a bit, but I realized quickly the response from our friends was: ‘What you have in your independent bookstore is very, very different than what Amazon is providing.’ And I think that we’re going to be OK.“

As Amazon Moves In, A Local Bookseller Hopes To Thrive With A Personal Touch

Imagine monster-human couples starting families together. 

Imagine big intimidating monsters crying when they learn that they’re going to be parents. 

Imagine them marking the outside of their human mate’s home with their claws, leaving deep scratches against brick and mortar or hoarding branches and leaves to build a nest out of. 

Imagine them lulling their unborn to sleep with gentle clicks, growls and the songs of their ancient races, songs that no human alive has ever heard before.

Imagine them finally holding their hybrid newborns for the first time, clutching them in their huge terrible claws as if they would never let go. They could easily rip them apart, but to their little ones, their touches are all but brief brushes of silk to their tiny, new bodies. Imagine them protecting both their offspring and their mates as fiercely and as lovingly as they have never done before, desperate not to lose the new loves they have in their lives after years hiding away in the shadows. 

Imagine both human and monster being more complete than either of them have in their lives, finally together, finally a family.  A weird little family, but a happy little family nonetheless.

So here’s an email I just sent to Marvel, in case you’re interested

To the editors of Marvel Comics:

Many of the letters in your letters pages begin with the writer’s long history of reading comics as evidence that you should care about their opinion and want to keep them as a customer. While I may be relatively new to comics, I think I’m a pretty desirable customer. Not only do I have disposable income and a willingness to spend money on physical books in a brick-and-mortar comic shop, but I’m also a teacher and librarian with the power to get your books in the hands of the next generation.

Until recently, I was thrilled to do just that. I teach at a school that serves a very diverse population and I wanted to expose my students to heroes who look like them. I bought them Miles Morales, Sam Wilson, Ms. Marvel, Silk, The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, various team books, and more. I did this not with the school’s budget, but with my own money (and I of course took the opportunity to read them myself first).

For myself (although I also share most of them with students), I have every issue of Patsy Walker, A.K.A. Hellcat!, The Mighty Thor, Mockingbird, Storm, and most of the recent Black Widow and Captain Marvel runs. I’ve been eagerly awaiting Nick Fury and America, and was not disappointed by their #1s. I’ve loved so much of what Marvel has given me over the past few years; I got to see parts of myself and the people I love in these books, parts that I don’t always get to see in popular media.

But none of the above were the characters that got me into comics; that honor belongs to Steve Rogers. I fell in love with him in the movies, with his steadfastness and his sense of justice and his belief in doing the right thing and protecting individuals. I went back and read Brubaker’s Winter Soldier arc, but was too intimidated by the vastness of the Marvel universe to read many of the books he was currently appearing in when I first started reading comics.

And then I found out he was being restored to his young self and getting a new series. I was ECSTATIC. I couldn’t wait to get it and see what new adventures this amazing character would go on. When I found out about the twist at the end of #1, I was upset, but everyone assured me that this is comics - it’ll be mind control or a decoy or some other trick. Soon everything would be back to normal. But as I realized how committed everyone at Marvel was to the reality of Steve-the-Hydra-Agent, I also realized that this was a book that didn’t want me as a reader. This version of Steve Rogers seemed to have nothing in common with the Steve Rogers I had fallen in love with. As a queer woman with Jewish ancestry, I felt like my concerns were dismissed and that I was unwelcome. 

So I didn’t buy the book. I kept my other subscriptions and continued to enjoy them, all the while waiting for the trick-behind-the-trick that everyone else seemed sure would come. And then Secret Empire began.
I don’t know if I can put into words how it felt to find out that according to this new story, Steve Rogers has never been a hero at all. The closest I can get is that it was a punch in the gut, although I feel the cliche fails to accurately convey the strength of my response.

Stories matter. Heroes matter. And in a world that feels full of pain and fear and darkness, stories and heroes matter even more. The people I love are living with a lot of fear right now - fear of deportation, fear of losing access to health care, fear of being attacked for who they love or the color of their skin - and so am I. We need heroes who can remind us of why we fight, why we resist, why we rise above, why we plant ourselves like a tree and say “no, you move.”

Steve Rogers used to be that hero for me and for many others. To take a hero like Steve Rogers and destroy everything that made him who he was, everything that he was created to be…I don’t know why that is a story that Marvel wants to tell right now. Or ever. It is incomprehensible to me.

And it leaves me torn. I have asked my shop to not pull any books related to Secret Empire for me, and a part of me wants to firmly declare that Marvel will never see another cent of my money at all. The other part of me remembers how much I have loved and appreciated my other experiences as a Marvel fan, the encouragement that your characters and stories have given me, the ways they’ve made me laugh and given me something to look forward to, a bright spot in the middle of the week.

I don’t know if I will keep buying Marvel comics. I want to, but I’m not sure you want me to. Right now, it seems like I’m the type of customer that you don’t want at all - the customer who values the diversity you’ve blamed for the sales slump and who wants her good guys to be good, even when it’s hard.

Hoping to remain a fan,
Rachel A. 

Magical Bricks and Mortar


At first I found the buildings here to be very charming… no pun intended. Everything is sort of wonky and at a strange angle, and it all looks like it would simply topple over if it weren’t for magic. But then, it would all fall over if it weren’t for magic? Wouldn’t it?

So, are wizards just terrible architects? I’m starting to think it isn’t some aesthetic choice, just that nobody here knows how to genuinely construct a free standing structure.

I’m Gonna Marry Her

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3,100

Warnings: fluff, canon divergence, implied smut

Summary: Just a slideshow of you and Sam growing up together. Enjoy!

Send a message or leave a comment when you reblog! Feedback is always appreciated!


John stared out the driver’s side window, watching his oldest boy, Dean, walk towards the brick-and-mortar school, holding onto the hand of a little girl that looked more scared than any kid he’d seen before. Ordinarily, Sam would have gone with them, but the kid had picked up a head cold and was just starting to get through the final stages, and John needed both sons and their friend healthy.

Dean was ten, Sam and Y/N were both five. She had been with them for almost a year since her parents had been killed by a pack of hungry vampires. No other family members could be found, and the poor kid had nearly been taken away and chucked into the system. Sure, John could have let her bounce around foster homes for the next thirteen years, but hey, he was doing an all-right job with the two boys he had. 

Maybe taking on a girl wouldn’t be so bad.

Keep reading


Along a snowy highway in the Rockies lies Buford, Wyo., elevation: 8,000 feet, population: one.

This tiny town is in danger of losing its last — and only — resident, as the town’s longest running business may have to close.

But this is really a story about three people. The first is Jason Hirsch, Buford’s town manager.

He mans the Buford Trading Post, which is also the gas station, the store and well, town hall basically.

Now despite his role as town manager, Hirsch is not the town’s one resident.

Buford: Come for the Coffee, Stay … To Keep The Tiny Town Open

Photos: Kirk Siegler/NPR


🌙 [2.20.17}🌙

Bujo spread from last week! I was feeling very inspired by the moon, so I thought I’d try decorating a spread for the first time! I’m pretty happy with my results, but I want to try filling the pages more next time 🌟

World History and Hospitality and Tourism have been really interesting, which is new for me because I used to be so exhausted when I went to brick and mortar school that I never enjoyed my subjects. Feeling enthusiastic about learning is so amazing.

Oh, by the way, I started a ✨ studygram✨ ! It looks a bit barren right now, but I’ll be posting quite often, so don’t worry!