For the first time, 75 aircraft & helicopters of the Indian Air Force displayed a number of formations
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#firsts #mark #India039s #grand #73rd #Republic #Day #parade
Many firsts mark India's grand 73rd Republic Day parade
…It’s like you’ve been forgotten
Every evidence of your entrance
Deleted or displaced,
Sentiment left behind,
Emotion scrubbed clean.
But your imprint never left
You expanded my horizons
Then left a gap right there.
I learned things,
Felt myself in new ways,
Became aware of so much,
Of so many more ways to live.
And I can still feel it.
I can’t turn on my TV anymore without feeling like the air beside me is empty.
(That cold television light still makes me remember the warmth it brought with it)
Can’t climb into my bed without feeling the absence of another waiting,
Can’t help but try to remember the way your body felt on mine,
The intimate mundanity of a couch or bed,
The comfort of someone who cared so intimately.
I’ve gone on with my life,
Began other things,
Other conversations,
Other futures.
And I thought I had moved on.
And maybe I had, but I never forgot.
You were so many little firsts,
And though you would never have been forever,
I do miss the “for nows”.
Things I’ve done on this trip that I’d never done before:
-Spent time talking with some Amish folks. (Meals in the dining car are communal, and you sit with whoever arrived when you did.)
-Lent my phone to said folks. (We’re running 4 hours late and they wanted to let the person picking them up know.)
-Showed off.my embroidery to the lady of this couple, who probably could embroider circles around me. She was really nice and made me feel good about myself.
-Saw a tumbleweed.
-Saw a herd of elk. (or possibly mule deer. It’s been a long time since I checked out what those look like.)
-Used a sheet to dry myself after a shower. (I was rank, there were no towels left, and I didn’t want to wake the attendant.)
Chapters:
1/1
Fandom:
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships:
Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Characters:
Julian Bashir, Elim Garak
Additional Tags:
Garashir - Freeform, Fluff and Humor, Clothing, Firsts, Suggestive
Series:
Part 10 of Bashir/Garak (Garashir)
Summary:
Garak, has a new sweater, a colourful one.
This Christmas I woke up to a blanket of soft fresh snow on the ground. My first white Christmas. This next season of my life will be filled with firsts. First white Christmas. First Christmas being single since I was 18 years old. It is not my first Christmas alone, as I am not alone.
As I reflect on what a gift it is to be alive and be able to experience some “first”, I think about how my last…
It made me wonder how many firsts a person can have before life only offers them seconds.
—Alice Feeney/Rock Paper Scissors
“I don’t know if you feel
the same as I do
But we could be together
if you wanted to”
Do I wanna know by Arctic Monkeys
Day 5 Firsts and Blood Ties
Remember to @ us in your posts
Chapters:
1/1
Fandom:
Good Omens (TV)
Rating:
General Audiences
Warnings:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships:
Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Characters:
Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens)
Additional Tags:
azicrow, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), 100 word drabble, fluffy fluff, Firsts
Series:
Part 52 of One Hundred Words, Part 101 of The Ineffable Tales - Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Summary:
It is their first Xmas together.
I didn’t buy my first CD until some time between ‘95-'96. A little late to the party to say the least. But the first CD that I bought was Testament with Live at the Fillmore. I still love this album!
Damian tries something new.
I snuck in a little extra writing time despite all the “‘Tobers” because I sprained my ankle walking across a perfectly smooth surface and have been laid up. So enjoy!
Marinette checked her outfit a third time, groaning at her indecision. Damian liked her. He liked her enough to mention (or assume) marriage before they had even dated. Even if some of their long talks over coffee and kittens had felt like dates.
“Tikki! What do I do? Everything looks like I’m trying too hard, not trying at all, or covered in cat hair.”
Tikki stared at her in silence until she stopped wailing. She took a breath. In and out. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake! She had saved a city and was in position to save another one… in a roundabout way at least.
“I don’t think the cat hair is a deterrent, Marinette. That boy did not look like he wanted to leave the other day—and that was mid-shift in all your coffee and cat-covered glory.”
[[MORE]]Marinette blushed. He had looked at the slightly open door to her bedroom more than once. Pink should make him happy, or at least eager, right? She smoothed the dark pink A-line dress once more before running a brush through her hair. When she was working downstairs, she always wore it up—in pigtails, yes, but also ponytails, or braids, or whatever she had time for. Wearing it down made her feel more dressed up than the smooth skirt she’d chosen.
“Okay. Here we go. Date. With Damian.” It was still hard to believe she had a date with Damian Wayne, the studious man who walked a careful line between serious and passionate at all times. She had watched him while he studied. He was dedicated to being the best, but for him, it was about saving lives, not the clout. Her heart started thundering again. If he showed the same intensity about her as he did about becoming a doctor, she might very well spontaneously combust.
Tikki flew into her space to meet her eyes. “I believe in you, Marinette! And you don’t have time to change anyway. You don’t want to be late!”
With a gasp in the direction of the clock, Marinette bolted out the door. Damian’s studies kept him very busy, and she wanted to do everything she could to respect the time he set aside for her—and not waste any of their time together.
Damian was waiting for her outside. He was positively mouthwatering in black slacks, a black button-up, and a pink tie. She stopped abruptly. “You’re wearing pink.” He had never done that before.
“I like the idea of us looking as if we belong together.” She nodded, smiling; she liked that too.
It took another second to unstick her tongue. “You look good. You always do, but tonight—You look really good, Damian.”
Plagg chose that moment to stick his head out of Damian’s pocket and make a gagging face.
“Are you and Plagg doing okay? I know he can be a lot to handle—”
Damian pressed a finger to her lips. “Tt. Tonight is about us, not the kwami, but Plagg is tolerable. I am fine, Marinette.” His eyes caressed her slowly, “As are you.”
Desperately hoping her blush was lighter than her dress, Marinette thought about the half dozen rejected outfits strewn over her bed and nearly kicked herself. Next time, she would make sure she was ready with enough time to make sure her bedroom was inviting.
Damian pressed a quick kiss to her cheek—almost a la bise, but not quite—before straightening. “Shall we?”
With a nod, Marinette slipped her hand into Damian’s and let him lead her to their destination.
“I can’t believe you don’t even want to try the hero thing,” Plagg muttered.
Damian pulled his attention from his textbook and glanced at him with a raised brow. “Marinette said you don’t enjoy doing the hero thing.”
“I don’t. It’s all work, work, work. I’ve just never had a holder who didn’t want to go for a run now and then. Even Pigtails suited up a few times when she got to Gotham.”
Damian frowned. Marinette made it seem like she trusted the bats to handle that side of things. They had only been on one official date, but he’d kept up his visits to the café, often with study materials in hand. Because of the semi-public setting, they didn’t usually talk in length about the miraculous, but he was surprised she hadn’t said anything contrary to her original assessment.
Not that it was any of his business.
“She is a grown woman and is fully capable of making her own choices.”
Plagg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah… all grown women in Gotham are perfectly safe.”
His study of contagions suddenly seemed unimportant; he’d seen too many crime scenes to know that wasn’t even remotely true. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing! You’re right, Pigtails has been handling herself for ages. She can handle a few hoodlums now and again.”
Damian growled. He did not like the idea of Marinette in danger. “What hoodlums? Speak.”
The Cat backpedaled immediately. “She only suited up when some local thugs tried to mug her. It’s not like she goes hunting down the local baddies. I was just bored, not trying to start something.” Plagg whined.
Damian snapped his book shut. “When did this happen?”
The Cat waved his paw dismissively, but there was a gleam in his eye. “Oh, it was before you knew us. Still, it would be a shame if her life was in danger and you didn’t even know what to do.”
Damian groaned. Marinette hadn’t mentioned the nagging—or the guilt that came with having a kwami live with you. Because the Cat was right. He would despise himself if he had the power to save her life—anyone’s life—and failed to do so because he hadn’t accustomed himself to his abilities. Plagg had given him the full rundown, and he knew it all as well as any subject he studied, but he hadn't practiced.
He glanced at Alfred the cat. Alfred was watching Plagg through slitted eyes, feigning sleep even while poised to spring. Plagg and Alfred did not get along (because Alfred was a smart cat who knew that Plagg was far from safe). If he went out for a while, his longtime companion could get some rest.
“Tt. I suppose I should put my knowledge into practice.”
Plagg grinned. “Now we’re t—
"Claws out.”
“—aaaaaaa!”
Plagg vanished with a yeowl, leaving Damian alone to assess his new suit. The lines were familiar, but varied, as if borrowed from both his time in the League and his time as Robin. Solidly black, except for the eyes, which were a shocking combination of green irises and yellow sclera, far more feline and far removed from the earthier emerald genetics had gifted him. Instead of a cape, he had a tail that appeared to double as some sort of grapple. Thankfully, despite the footage he had seen of the Chat Noir of old, the hood that provided obscurity was free of ears. The extendable baton in his hand flattened and sharpened into a decent blade at the push of a button. It was certainly more convenient than rushing off to the cave or hauling his suit around.
It was strange, patrolling Gotham without his family in his ear. It was quiet for one thing—well, as quiet as Gotham with its traffic, sirens, and distant gunshots could be. Damian kept to the endless shadows, moving near silently through the city. He had no intentions of interfering unless it became necessary, planning only to become comfortable with the tools at his disposal.
The weapon—in both its forms—felt comfortable in his hand, like an extension of himself. The extra abilities were entirely foreign. It took several breathless leaps to acquaint himself with the extreme bounds of his movement. While he couldn’t fly, the ability to leap from the ground to several stories up with ease was exhilarating.
Damian was ready to head home when things went a little sideways. He had gone out to get a feel for the suit, not to make a name for himself; he certainly hadn’t planned on a code name.
Batman—his father, who believed his son had given up crime fighting—stepped out of the shadows directly in Damian’s path.
White lenses narrowed, standing in stark contrast to his black suit. It might have been intimidating if Damian hadn’t seen him playing the fop as 'Brucie’ Wayne at fundraising events. “Who are you meant to be?”
Damian sidestepped the Dark Knight, but he moved with him. “I am no one. You need not be concerned.” It was unlikely to work, but Damian had no desire to get into an altercation with Batman, not that he thought he’d fail. Plagg’s transformation seemed to imbue him with confidence to go along with his enhanced abilities.
“I am Batman. This is my city. I suggest you answer me.”
It had to have been Plagg’s influence on him, because Damian would never—
“I. am. Catman.” It came out with the same energy and growl Batman was famous for. It was preposterous.
And yet—It worked.
“What.” Batman took a step back, surprised and likely appalled.
Damian—Catman, kwami help him—prepped his grappling tail for launch. “You heard me. I answered your question. I’m leaving now.”
With a smoothness born of years of practice and enhanced by the magic of the miraculous, Catman swung away before Batman found his tongue.
A: B is handling it quite well over here with the straights!
B: For the first time in my life.
‘Severance’ Star Tramell Tillman Becomes First Black Actor to Win Emmy in Best Supporting Drama Category (hollywoodreporter.com)
Severance star Tramell Tillman made history on Sunday night at the 2025 Emmy Awards, becoming the first Black man to ever win the best supporting actor in a drama series Emmy.
Tillman, who this year received his first Emmy nomination and win, was nominated alongside Zach Cherry (Severance), James Marsden (Paradise), John Turturro (Severance), Sam Rockwell (The White Lotus), Jason Isaacs (The White Lotus) and Walton Goggins (The White Lotus).
During his acceptance speech, Tillman, who stars as Milchick in the Apple TV+ series, said, “You remember what you want to remember. You make time for what you want to make time for, do the work, show up, and most importantly, for the love of God, don’t embarrass me in public.”…
everyone obsessed
with their “first times”
but no one is talking
about “the last”
when you held
someone’s hand?
when you fell silent
when others yelled?
past love and the last
“I feel the same”
a honest conversation
that was never completed
a few sparks and sad tears
streaming down
to the heart
We may never have
the firsts, but there will
always be the lasts.
Happier, 2025
During a time in which spaces for law and education where dominated by white men, a Black woman persevered through both racial discrimination and gender discrimination to become the first Black woman lawyer in the United States.
On January 13th, 1850 in New York City, Charlotte E. Ray was born to prominent minister and abolitionist, Reverend Charles Bennet Ray, and to her mother, Charlotte…
The Infamous Story of C.E. Ray, the First Black Woman Lawyer in the United States
Do you know about the first licensed Black attorney in America? Born August 4th, 1816, we celebrate Macon Bolling Allen.
Macon Bolling Allen: The First Black Lawyer in the United States
just learned about the official live25 map on oasisinet and clicked edinburgh to check it out cause it’s the city i know the best that’s available as a map so far. tracing the streets on the map realizing how clearly i remember it all and suddenly got hit with a wave of nostalgia thinking how amazing it’d have been to go back during fringe and see oasis there of all places. so i’m officially jealous of all of you in edinburgh this week.
the map highlights a neat piece of prefame oasis history to find if you have the time:
realizing i know right where this is and everything i walked by it every day and had no idea a slice of oasis history was right there.
looking up the venue’s website explains why:
so it burned down and was not operating while i was there but was rebuilt after i left!
anyway still a potential neat music spot in edinburgh if you’re looking for something to do. has a bowie tribute band followed by a swiftie theme night on friday. pete doherty is playing tuesday. and if you’re staying til next friday they’ve got a big gay afterparty celebrating the end of fringe.
cowgate’s right in old town, connected to the strange loop that is bow st that i always seemed to get lost around until i hit the museum or the library. but it’s only a street from the royal mile when you’re walking south in the direction of the big sainsbury’s. in case that means nothing to you here’s the map:
i believe the close has an entrance on the cowgate side which is not very easy to see from this view but would just be left of the building marked. looks like you have to go through that close to reach the back of the building for the entrance. if anyone is from edinburgh and knows more give a shout.
“That did not just happen.”
Mikey recognized Raph’s blunt deadpan for what it really was; he was numb with shock.
“I, uh…think it did, though.”
“Nope, that was nothin’. I didn’t hear nothin’ outta her just now and neither did you.”
“But don’t you wanna rub it in Casey’s face?”
“Oh, I would, but if April ever finds out…”
Mikey blanched. “Good point.”
“Vow of silence, cross our plastrons. This never happened.”
“Yeah, my lips are sealed.”
Unfortunately little Shadow Jones didn’t agree, waving a chubby hand at them as she repeated her first word for emphasis: “Turto! Turto!”
