#St. John's Vale

[huariqueje]

St. John's Vale - Rob Adams

British , b . 1954 -

Watercolour , 10 x 7.5 in.

[vox-anglosphere]

You don't have to go far in the Lake District to become mesmerised

[tropinano]

List of As Many Fiction Podcasts As I Could Think Of

NOT ORGANIZED! This is a big list of fiction podcasts with no descriptions, meant for the sole purpose of picking one based on the title and just trying it out. Just a big ol' list of titles. Kindof like a blind date! Explore a couple of the ones that intrigue you and come back later for more.

The Hotel

The Night Post

I am in Eskew

Whisperling

Residents of Proserpina Park

The Daedalus Compound

EOS10

The Magnus Archives

Francis Forever

SMILE GROVE

Janus Descending

The Godfrey Audio Guide

Old Gods of Appalachia

Camp Here & There

The Way We Haunt Now

Jack of All Trades

SUPERSUITS

Illuminati Interns

Death by Dying

Life with Leo(h)

Hello from the Hallowoods

Malevolent

The 12:37

Spirit Box Radio

Lost Terminal

Desperado

Neighbourly

The Switchboard

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality

Aurora Everlasting

The Swashbuckling Ladies Debate Society

CARAVAN

The Amelia Project

Jar of Rebuke

Monstrous Agonies

Where the Stars Fell

Kisses In The Dark

The Town Whispers

Uncommon Commons

The Author's Anathema

Elevator Pitch

Brimstone Valley Mall

Kane & Feels

Middle:Below

The McIlwraith Statements

Caledonian Gothic

I have seen Niagara

Petrified

In Darkness Vast

The Outside Tapes

Seren

Gather the Suspects

This Foul Earth

John from Home

Glasgow Ghost Stories

The Tower

The Antique Shop

either

Tales from Aletheian Society

The Secret of St Kilda

The Green Horizon

Road X

THE NOWHERE MALL

Seven of Hearts

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

SubverCity Transmit

The Nuclear Solution

Inkwyrm

Jim Robbie and the Wanderers

Burst

With Caulk and Candles

This Planet Needs a Name

The Glass Appeal

Mar's Best Brisket

Nym's Nebulous Notions

Midnight Radio

The Bright Sessions

When Angels Visit Armadillo

The Mysterious Secrets of Uncle Bertie's Botanarium

Nowhere, On Air

Dark Ages

Welcome to Night Vale

The Silt Verses

Care & Feeding of Werewolves

The Bridge

The Far Meridian

ars PARADOXICA

Among the Stars and Bones

Counterbalance

Primordial Deep

Hannahpocalypse

Someone dies in this Elevator

Mabel

Seen and Not Heard

Abyss FM

Bodies in Space

Among the Stacks

Station Arcadia

Station Blue

Mnemosyne

Wolf 359

Tranthologies

Mx Bad Luck

SAYER

Limetown

What will be here?

Wake of Corrosion

The Pasithea Powder

SINKHOLE

Tell No Tales

The Vesta Clinic

Dreamboy

Georgie Romero is Done For

The Domestic Life of Anthony Todd

Alice isn't Dead

Stellar Firma

Unwell

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

The Heart of Ether

The Orbiting Human Circus

Wooden Overcoats

Greater Boston

Valence

Moonbase Theta Out

The Penumbra Podcast

Desert Skies

Deviser

Leaving Corvat

Red Valley

Back Again Back Again

Sidequesting

[wc-confessions]

Hello, it’s xenofic recs anon again! Please check this link for the previous list; there’s a lot of books here: https://www.tumblr.com/wc-confessions/753648281346801664/heres-a-rapid-fire-list-of-non-warriors?source=share.

I made an error with The Secret of NIMH, it’s a trilogy, not a single book! I learned that Silverwing has a TV show, too. I’m also changing my method to save time. If a novel interests you, I suggest searching it up.

In exchange, I’ll clarify my goal in sending these recommendations. I do it because I want xenofiction to grow. I want people to realize there are plenty of series out there. If you end up liking a series more than Warriors, good for you! If you end up disliking a series more than Warriors, good for you! I want to invite constructive discussions surrounding xenofiction as a whole. You aren’t better for not reading Warriors just like how you aren’t better for reading only Warriors. These asks come from a love of xenofiction and wanting to spread the word. I am in no way attempting to show malice towards Warriors or uncritical favoritism towards the series I list. 

The Guardian Herd series by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez.

The Gryphon Insurrection series by K. Vale Nagle.

The Council of Cats by R. J. F.

Swordbird series by Nancy Yi Fan.

Strong Hearts are Mandatory series by Teelia Pelletier. Hey, did you know the song Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles? Throw some cats in there!

Hunter’s Moon: A Story of Foxes by Garry Kilworth.

Darkeye series by Lydia West.

Prehistoria: The Raptor’s Tail by Jack Blackburn. One book but seemingly a future series.

Raven Quest by Sharon Stewart.

The Tales from Veynekan series by Fiona Jade Thornburg.

The Dogs of the Spires series by Ethan Summers.

Skytalons series, The Wolves of Elementia series, and Griffin Quest series by Sophie Torro. Fun fact: the author used to be Warriors Unlimited, and she published her first book, Cornelius’ Curse, at 16!

The Wildings series by Nilanjana Roy.

War Bunny Chronicles series by Christopher St. John. 

Hunters Universe series, more commonly known as Hunters Unlucky, by Abigail Hilton.

This is all I have for now. To cap this off, I want to give a shout-out to @/drive-pdfs-and-stuff. They have resources for those who are unable to pay for novels. I’ll appear again when I have more to show!

‎

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Quality Control Time

okay everyone: realistically despite having read some since last tournament I can't have read all of these books as I am one person running a blog for funnies

so I'm posting a list after I've gone through the submissions and I'm counting on you guys to tell me if any of these submissions don't count (or if someone typoed something in the submission I didn't catch)

that said here are your (tentative) competitors:

Rune Saint-John- The Tarot Sequence by KD Edwards

Quinn Saint Nicholas- The Tarot Sequence by KD Edwards

Layne Dawncreek- The Hourglass Throne by KD Edwards

Silas Bell- The Spirit Bares it's Teeth by Andrew Joseph White 

Daphne Luckenbill- The Spirit Bares it's Teeth  by Andrew Joseph White 

Benjamin/Benji Woodside- Hell Followed with us by Andrew Joseph White 

Sideways Pike- The Spacegracers by HA Clarke

Tayend of Tremmelin- Magician’s Guild series (The Novice, The High Lord) by Trudi Canavan

Gideon Nav- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Ianthe Tridenarius, Ianthe the First- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Harrowhark Nonagesimus- The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

Dekka- Gone series by Michael Grant

Therem Harth rem ir Estraven- The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

Seregil í Korit Solun Meringil Bôkthersa- Luck in the shadows/the nightrunner series by Lynn Fleweling

Victor Vale- Vicious by VE Schwab

Alucard Emery- Shades of Magic series by VE Schwab

Rhy Maresh- Shades of Magic series by VE Schwab

Elliot Schafer- In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

Sebastian Black- The Sacred Sins of Father Black by St John Starling

Father Victor Ardelian- What Manner of Man by St John Starling

Wenren È- Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know by Cyan Wings

Zhu Chongba- She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Ouyang- She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan

Giovanni- Giovanni's room by James Baldwin

David- Giovanni's room by James Baldwin

Danny Tozer- Dreadnought by April Daniels

Magnus Bane- The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Alec Lightwood- The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

Thomas Lightwood- The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

Alastair Carstairs- The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare

Alex Fierro-Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard series by Rick Riordan

Magnus Chase- Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard series by Rick Riordan

Nico di Angelo- The Sun and the Star by Rick Riordan

Frances Janvier- Radio Silence by Alice Oseman

Nick Nelson- Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

Charlie Spring- Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

Tori Spring- Solitaire by Alice Oseman

Gwen (Princess Gwendoline)- Gwen and Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher

Jack Alston/Lord Hawthorn- The Last Binding Trilogy by Freya Marske

Maud Blyth- The Last Binding Trilogy by Freya Marske

Robin Blyth- A Marvelous Light by Freya Marske

Silariathas “Silas”- Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Nathaniel Thorn- Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Ballister Blackheart- Nimona by N.D. Stevenson

Ambrosius Goldenloin- Nimona by N.D. Stevenson 

Neil Josten- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Andrew Minyard- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Nicky Hemick- All for the game by Nora Sakavic

Xie Lian- Heaven Official's Blessing / Tian Guan Ci Fu by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx 

San Lang/ Hua Cheng- Heaven Official's Blessing / Tian Guan Ci Fu by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx 

Luo Binghe- The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Shen Qingqiu- The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Lan Wangji/ Lan Zhan/ Han Guang Jun- Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Wei WuXian/ Wei Ying/ Yiling Patriarch- Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu / mxtx

Kelly Bennett- Heartsong by TJ Klune

Linus Baker- The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Arthur Parnassus- The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune

Laurent- Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat

Damianos (Damen)- Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat

Will Kempen- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

Sarcean- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

James St. Clair- Dark Rise Series by C.S. Pacat

Ronan Lynch- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Adam Parrish- The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Loki- Loki- Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

Theo Bell- Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

Daniela- We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia

Carmen- We Set the Dark on Fire by Tehlor Kay Mejia

Seonid Traighan Sedai- Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan

Siuan Sanche Sedai- Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan

Shallan Davar- The Stormlight Archive series by Brandon Sanderson

Jasnah Kholin- The Stormlight Archive series by Brandon Sanderson 

Jesper Fahey- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Wylan van Eck- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Nina Zenik- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Evelyn Hugo- The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Moiraine Damodred Sedai- The Wheel of Time Series by Robert Jordan 

Yan Wushi- 千秋 /Thousand Autumns/Qian Qu by Meng Xi Shi

Shen Qiao- 千秋/Qian Qiu/Thousand Autumn by Meng Xi Shi

Alex Claremont-Diaz- Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor- Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston

Biyu "Jane" Su- One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

August Landry- One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Jolene Whitaker- Stars Still Fall by Jules Kelley

Jude St. Francis- A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Francis Abernathy- The Secret History by Donna Tartt

Ishita Dey- Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar

Carmilla Karnstein- Carmilla by J Sheridan le Fanu

Murderbot- The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

Shuos Jedao- Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee

Achilles- Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller 

Patroclus- Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller 

Yin Hanjiang- Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know by Cyan Wings

Daja Kisubo- The Circle of Magic series, The Circle Opens series, The Will of the Empress by Tamora Pierce

Simon Torquill- October Daye Series by Seanan McGuire

Kade Bronson- Wayward Children Series by Seanan McGuire

Jack Wolcott- Wayward Children Series by Seanan McGuire

Sundew- Wings of Fire by Tui T Sutherland

Zanja Na'Tarwein- The Elemental Logic Series by Laurie J. Marks

Karis G'deon- The Elemental Logic series by Laurie J. Marks

Thaniel Steepleton- The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, The Lost Future of Pepperharrow by Natasha Pulley

Raff Barden- One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny

Penn de Foucart- One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny

Alec Campion- Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Richard St Vier- Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Nico Ferrer De Varona- The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Parisa Kamali- The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

Sam Black Crow- American Gods by Neil Gaiman

Salim- American Gods by Neil Gaiman

Hunter- Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Islington- Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

Tsukiko- The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

Zachary Ezra Rawlins- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Dorian- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Katrina- The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Katherine- The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner

Geraldine- Christabel by Samuel Coleridge 

Priya- The Jasmine Throne/The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

Malini- The Jasmine Throne/The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

Henry Gaunt- In Memoriam by Alice Winn

Sidney Ellwood - In Memoriam by Alice Winn

Benji Ovich- Beartown by Frederik Backman

Renly Baratheon- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Loras Tyrell- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Oberyn Martell- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Ellaria Sand- A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) by George R.R. Martin

Ead Duryan- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Thara Celehar- The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison

Iäna Pel-Thenhior- The Witness for the Dead by Katherine Addison

Vanyel Ashkevron- The Last Herald-Mage Series (Magic's Pawn, Magic's Price, Magic's Promise) by Mercedes Lackey

Galen- Paladin's Hope by T. Kingfisher 

Doctor Piper- Paladin's Hope by T. Kingfisher 

Eliot Waugh- The Magicians by Lev Grossman

Simon Spier- Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Bram Greenfield- Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli

Leah Burke- Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli

Abby Suso- Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli

Jay Gatsby- Self-Made Boys by Anna-Marie Mclemore

Harold Hutchins- Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey

Eric "Bitty" Bittle- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu 

Jack Zimmermann- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu 

Ollie O'Meara- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Pacer Wicks- Check, Please! By Ngozi Ukazu

Maurice Hall- Maurice by E.M. Forster 

Alec Scudder- Maurice by E.M. Forster 

Clive Durham- Maurice by E.M. Forster 

Cal Stephanides- Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides

Therese Belivet- Carol or The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith 

Carol Aird- Carol or The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith 

Baz Pitch- Carry On Series by Rainbow Rowell

Tennalhin (Tennal) Halkana- Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell

Evander (Andy) Mills- Lavendar House by Lev Ac Rosen

Kaiiestron (Kai) l, Prince of the Fourth House of the Underearth- Witch King by Martha Wells

Max Owen- Magical Boy by The Kao

Remy Pendergast- Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco

Ben De Backer- I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver

Nathan Allan- I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver

Genevieve Lefoux- The Parasol Protectorate series by Gail Carriger

Maddie Morrow- Havenfall by Sara Holland

Catherine St. Day- The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Lucy Muchelney- The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite

Fetter- The Saint of Bright Doors by Vajra Chandrasekera

Leonie Jackman- Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson

Red- This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone 

Blue- This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone 

Rose- Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Li Shimin- Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Cliopher Mdang- The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard

Lily Hu- Last Night At The Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

Patrick O’Hara- The Guncle by Steven Rowley

Ambrose Cusk- The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Kodiak Celius- The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

[madebycoffee]

Anonymous OC question of the day!

If you could make a character real, which of your OCs would be:

your bestie

your spouse/partner

your secret lover!

your friendly rival

your enemy!

BONUS: do this for other people’s OCs too!

Pass the game along (anonymously or not)

HI THANK U FOR THIS!!

I decided to do 2 version. My own sims, and some sims from my faves on simblr huehue.

Bestie: Obviously Gian. Spouse/Partner: I thought a long ass time about this, and I don't think there's any sims of mine that I'd want to marry??? Which is weird. Secret Lover: Takuya. Let me be flung by u ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ Friendly Rival: If I was Gian's bestie then it would default make me Keith's rival lol. (Tho he might also be my choice to marry. maybe.) Enemy: Matthew Mason from my simblr. 🔪. BONUS ROUND: Sim that I recently came around on and adore, Gemma Mason/St. John from my simblr. :3

Now for other people's sims huehue. this was a lot easier lmao!

Bestie: THE Hope from @cinamun !! She is such a warm person, IDK if I would be HER bestie, but being her friend would be 10/10. Spouse/Partner: Kalani from @nilonne i am proposing to you right now pls give me a chance, kiara is being a fooL! Secret Lover: Vale from YOU @pralinesims if he would give me a chance ;__; Friendly Rival: Gianni from @bridgeportbritt he needs a friendly rival bahahahha. Enemy: Jackass St. Fleur from @armoricaroyalty just turn on ur location I just wanna talk 🔪🤺 BONUS ROUND: Ivan from @rebouks is my bonus round as, sim I adore and want to keep safe and hold like this 🤲(Also listed for being one of my favorite sims to follow thru a story ever. I am also proposing to him I think.)

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 2 - West Ham Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 1 Summary: What happens when a chance meeting happens again (and again)? Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language and outrageous flirting 🤷🏻‍♀️ Author's Notes: It took me over a month to write (blame the capitalism and full-time work) and it's twice as long (over 8k), but it's here, eh? These two did not seem keen on shutting up and the result is chaotic, but then that's London for you. It also features a cheeky POV change because there's no rules and everything is a simulation :) Also, if anyone's interested, the dance she mentions in scene no 1 and shows Neil is 'Cupid's Variation' from Don Quixote ballet. As seen for example here. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

To say you have not thought about Neil every day since that encounter would be a lie. As it turned out, he was wrong. It was not difficult to remember him, tormented daily by the memories of that exact shade of blue or the way the strands of his hair fell over his forehead. Rarely the one to lie to yourself, you did not even try to get rid of those thoughts. After all, it was harmless. Hopefully.

A week later, on another dreary Wednesday morning, when the only reason for excitement was this autumn’s production of Don Quixote and the roll-call announcement in your inbox, you made it to the St. John’s Wood station with a slight shortness of breath. The morning walk was always an opportunity to admire how ordinary neighbourhoods of West Kilburn transformed into the poshness of Maida Vale and St. John’s. Alternatively, it was a way to check whether your fitness levels were still up to par. That morning, it was the second option.

Happy to blame the annoyingly engaging 5 minutes crafts video that popped up on your timeline just as you were supposed to be getting dressed, you shouldered your way past lingering tourists and through the ticketing gates. That was the only issue you had with the station. Its proximity to the most famous crossing in all of England (if not all of Europe) meant that day in and day out, hundreds of clueless individuals stood in your path. The best you could do was not trample them as you rushed to the platform, all too aware of the passing minutes.

Luckily, the gods of TfL were merciful. As soon as you stepped onto the platform, that familiar rush of warm air from the tunnels made the hair sweep into your face. You breezed through the rehearsed choreography – locating the door, letting the disembarking crowd through, stepping into the cart. It was easy, almost done with your eyes closed.

That Wednesday morning, you were glad you did not test the theory and kept your eyes open. The cursory glance around the cart got cut short when your gaze landed on the familiar dirty-blonde head, bowed over a book. You froze, eyes already doing their job by following the outline of the man to make sure it was not just your wishful thinking. Once you did it twice over, you knew it was no mistake. It was Neil. Sat by the window, blissfully unaware of your staring.

And you did stare. At the sharpness of his profile, the broad shoulders clad in a perfectly fitting shirt and the strong forearms, again bared by the rolled-up sleeves. Although it had only been a week, you drank the sight of him like a woman parched. Without letting yourself think too long of the consequences, you crossed the aisle and sat down next to him:

“I haven’t forgotten you. Are you proud?” with the breath still hitched in your throat, you watched Neil react.

He froze, the book almost slipping out of his loose hold. As if controlled by strings, his head swivelled towards your voice at an alarming speed. You watched as he scanned your face, clearly going through the same crisis as you did. Only once you saw Neil relax and not eager to bolt, you sagged into the plastic chair and offered him your most innocent look. Neil’s responding smile felt like sunshine hitting your face on a cold winter afternoon. You were happy to let the warmth seep into your bones.

“I’m mostly flattered, but you’re bad for my ego,” he gave you another once-over, this time lingering on your body.

It was more than welcome. You shot Neil a smirk, already ecstatic with the turn of the conversation. Although, there were evident falsities within his words. There was no big ego to conquer. You could see as much in that persisting disbelief in his eyes, the margin of distrust Neil kept throughout the last conversation. All because he did not seem to see himself the way he was. The way everyone else saw him.

“Nah, you’re fine,” using the observation as an inspiration, you reached out to pat his knee and lowered your voice to a faux-seductive timbre, “Actually more than fine,” admittedly, it was another corny line.

But if it worked.

When he blushed, you barely resisted the urge to pump your fist. Neil knew that was the intent anyway if his narrowing stare was anything to go by. He stayed silent for a beat, giving you a chance to stare. To trace his features with your gaze, substituting for a careful touch of your fingertips. It was too early to do that. Yet. But it did seem like the magnetism of last week’s meeting did not disappear, leaving you both arrested in each other’s orbit by the sheer force of gravity. A force you did not want to resist.

“Do you want to make me blush?” Neil’s question made you blink back the thoughts and admire your success.

That rosy-cheeked glow only added to the overall striking looks. And did not stop you from getting in too deep. That had already happened.

“Very much so,” shooting him your best innocent smile, you carefully lowered the tote bag onto the floor between your knees and looked around the cart, ending it on Neil again, “Fancy seeing you here,” the resulting smile was enough of a reward for the pain of another weak pickup line.

On the edge of your consciousness, you registered that the train was still moving as it should. The tourists were still starting to crowd the space. But it was hardly noticeable.

“Likewise,” Neil seemed to consider something for a beat, then he extended his hand towards you in a greeting. An echo of that first handshake, “Hi,”

Not hesitating to join him halfway, you wrapped his palm in a tight hold, letting your thumb draw invisible lines along the back of his hand.

“Hi,” like then, the handshake lasted too long, but none of you cared to cut it short. Neil loosened the hold first, his long fingers trailing over the back of your hand and the length of your digits before dropping away. The slight catch in your voice was masked easily by the next question, “Soo, is this like… Are you going to work?” you eyed his outfit again, taking note of the leather laptop bag on the floor.

It seemed clear, but if the years of commuting by the London Tube taught you anything, it was that almost nothing was what it seemed.

“Yeah, I am,” Neil breezed through your doubts with a decisive nod.

The unspoken was easily detected. A better woman would have probably let it be, ignoring the omission with the hopes that the conversation partner was too shy to disclose the information. Like a normal almost-stranger. But you were never the better woman.

“Where do you work?” you leaned in closer, the waft of his cologne overwhelming the senses.

The masking conspiratorial grin must have appeared manic. It was hard to tell whether that alone was the reason for Neil’s passing discomfort.

“I’d rather not say,” he shifted in the seat, averting your gaze, “It’s… complicated,” the apologetic tone only added fuel to the curiosity.

Now you had to know. One way or another.

“Can I guess?” your mind was already buzzing with possibilities.

Not only was he stunning, but mysterious. To not let that get into your head you reached into the tote and dug out a water bottle. One greedy sip hardly did what it needed to do. And you nearly choked during it. A heavenly omen? You did consider that, in between Neil’s intense stare and his hesitant nod.

“Good luck with that,” the scepticism in his gaze felt like a challenge.

One that you were happy to take up. You leaned back as far as the seat confines allowed and measured him critically. The elegant clothes suggested it was unlikely Neil was working at a shopfloor level. As did the “put together” appearance, with the only flaw being the unkempt hair falling into his eyes. Still, the possibilities were endless.

You decided to start with something safe. Probable.

“Are you a stockbroker?” on its own accord, the look of distaste passed through your face, twisting the features into something almost comical.

It was hardly your fault. It was the years of frustrating men reacting to the news about your job with a bemused smirk, eager to spend the next 10-20 minutes proving the Arts were dead and the ballet was a farce. A hobby, they said. Most of those men were passionate about the stock exchange. Oh, so eager to spend their days screaming at the screens displaying rates and figures you did not care to decipher. Somehow, it was you who was in the wrong. You were the naïve one.

It was impossible to say whether Neil could read all of that from the fleeting look on your face, but the amusement in his eyes suggested it was likely.

“Christ, no,” he shook his head vehemently, revealing his feelings towards the occupation.

Somehow, it felt like a relief. That tiny dose of joy was enough to embolden you further. To let go of the remaining apprehensiveness and let your mouth do what it did best. It happened often enough to be an issue. Because once you stopped caring what you said or how the other person reacted, nothing stopped your mouth from speaking whatever it wanted.

Most of the time, that meant utter bullshit.

“Alright… A priest?” as soon as the question gained voice and sound, you knew it was one of those times.

That, however, did not make you want to take it back. How could you, after seeing the bewilderment on Neil’s face, which beat any expression you had ever seen him make?

“… What is going on in that head of yours?” he stared at you with concern, only making that laughter bubbling in your chest become a fact.

Admittedly, the image was hilarious. Neil, as a member of the clergy, was a concept that emoted thoughts you did not dare dwell on. At least not now. Not when you were right next to him. Later? Maybe.

“Nobody knows,” you shook it off with a mysterious look thrown his way and rested your chin in your fist, positioned perfectly to fix your unwavering gaze on him, “So, I guess it’s a no, then?”

Just in case that it was a yes.

“No,” Neil spoke faster than you deemed possible, quickly keying into the breathless laugh breaking on your face, “I mean, yes, it’s a no,” the decisive shake of the head was enough for you to drop it. If he let you, “Is that a kink thing, or…?”

The inquisitive look was turned onto you. There was no chance of escaping the blue eyes that stared you down. Yet again, you felt like he could see the depths of your soul. And judging from the smile hiding in the corner of his lips, he liked what he saw.

But that did not mean you were happy to give him quite that much.

“I wouldn’t tell you if it was. Not yet, anyway,” you hoped the promise within that sentence was clear.

Neil’s widening grin confirmed it. You winked at him, sealing the pledge for future use.

“Are you also going to work?” Neil’s question acted like a needed change of scene.

A naturally occurring shift in the atmosphere. You took it with both hands open wide:

“To the dance studio. I got a part in autumn’s production of Don Quixote. The Cupid, to be exact. That means the next few months, I might as well live in there,” the heavy sigh was only half of an act.

But it was nice to share the news. To boast to someone who listened and seemed to care. Because the thrill of that first look at the cast list and seeing your name there was still burning.

“Congrats. That sounds like a big deal,” Neil’s proud smile confirmed the hopes and dreams.

“It is. It’s difficult, even though the variation is like a minute long,” unafraid to delve into the deposit of fun facts and trivia available at hand, you rambled on until you remembered about the videos you could use as a demonstration “I could show you what it looks like, if you want?” fully prepared, you took out the phone from your pocket and waited.

Neil gestured towards it like there was no dilemma at all. Like he wanted to understand.

“Obviously,” he nodded, welcoming you into his space and leaning his back against the carriage side.

You did not squander that chance, typing the necessary phrase onto the YouTube search and getting closer to him. Once the video was ready, you offered Neil one of your earphones. It was not long, with the clip’s duration barely breaching the one-minute timestamp, but the shiver of excitement was still there. It caught fire when you pressed play and heard the familiar score fill your ears, the eyes tracing the steps by the ballerina on the recording with the mind making plans for your version. For what you could do to make it different. Memorable. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

But what soon became more fun was watching Neil instead of looking at the screen. He was focused on the performance, staring at the dancer with curiosity and interest. As if like he cared. You were not sure what to do about that realisation.

As the ballerina finished the performance with a smile and the video ended, you moved the phone away and snatched the headphones to deposit both in the tote. The rare hesitancy replaced the previous bravery, taking all the words out of your mouth and leaving you silent. And unable to look at him until Neil was the first to speak:

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” the encouragement in his voice did half the job of coaxing you out of the stupor.

The act was complete when he placed his palm on your knee and squeezed it lightly. That alone made you turn your head to look at him, all at once letting go of the shyness. Although he just as quickly took his hand back, the burning mark on your skin remained like the phantom touch. The slightly manic grin you turned on him was the only way you could hide the darkening blush.

“What did I do to deserve trust like that?” the question was genuine, eating at your brain with small yet persistent bites, impossible to ignore.

Neil had no obligation to humour you. No need to support you – a near stranger by all accounts. But he did. It was increasingly difficult to keep a distance. To remind yourself that you did not really know him. That trust should not be given this easily.

Neil’s searching gaze did not make it easier.

“I just like to believe in people, especially if I consider them friends,” he met your gaze and offered a timid smile.

You grasped onto the chance with a tight hold.

“Are we friends?” it was an opportunity for him to back off, to leave before you got in deeper.

Before what was once a chance meeting and a cute story to share with friends after a glass of wine became something real. Something frequent. Something to care for.

You did not have to stop to know what you wanted to happen.

“Something along those lines,” Neil shrugged, reading what you meant without difficulty. You saw the friendship take shape in the tiniest of nods you exchanged before he changed the topic with a cheeky smirk, “Especially considering I know about your annoying hook-up,” the involuntary shudder was an automatic reaction on your part, earning a pleased laugh from him “Talking about which, any new conquests?” he measured you up with that same searching look.

One that told you it was not only you that wanted to know more. That Neil, too, was curious. Although, that assumption was a tad bit insulting.

“No, come on. It’s been a week,” the frustration in your tone was a choice, a way of showing how the presumption made you feel, “I’m not that much of a player,” while it was from an insult, Neil needed to know he was wrong.

For some reason. A reason you were not willing to pick apart or scrutinise. Whether he noticed your ongoing crisis, it was hard to tell, for the moment Neil turned a mischievous grin on you, all rational thoughts had disappeared.

“And yet here you are, flirting with me,” checkmate.

The look you gave him confirmed his suspicions, if nothing did before. Only the fact was that your raging flirting with Neil hardly had anything to do with the desire to score another hook-up. There was no aim here, only that he was willing and too beautiful to be ignored.

At least, that was the hill you would die on.

“You’re making it easy,” you shrugged, half hoping to shift the attention away from your sex life and its many failings. But the opportunity was right there, too good to be wasted. Too perfect for the humour glimmering in his eyes and the expectant twitch in his lips, “Plus, you never know what may happen,” admittedly, the lower timbre and the seductive tone were all taken from the book on flirting you had used many times before.

But it worked, so… As if looking to distract you, Neil dragged a hand through his hair, making the blonde strands stick up and then fall in even greater disarray over his forehead. (That worked, too). All the while, he never let his gaze stray away from yours, seemingly confident that there was no need to keep note of the upcoming stops or anyone else around you. That, too, was a dangerous observation to make. All things considered.

“You have something in mind?” Neil’s question forced you to maintain some composure, but even that was short-lived.

As if inspired by your antics from that first meeting, his gaze travelled to your lips. The action alone kicked off a chain of events. Your eyes took the cue to glance down, to trace the shape of his mouth with a pang of hunger tugging at your stomach. Neil noticed it, watching you like a hawk that has just set the hook for its prey. Sinker? His tongue darted out to lick the expanse of his bottom lip. The hot flash of want sizzled underneath your eyelids as you forced yourself to look away.

Even if only to pretend you had not been struck by the same bullet you had fired at him the week before. The amusement you noticed in the corner of your eye told you it was futile.

“Oh, certainly,” your gaze stayed fixed on the darkness of the tunnels outside, as you mused out loud, “Especially if we keep on meeting like this,” there was nothing to add.

No chance of hiding the hopeful tint in your voice or the desire voiced with it. The part of you that had always rebelled against vulnerability and telling people truths, that were too close to reality, was ablaze with rage. You worried that, soon, it might start chucking rocks at you to stop. Goddamn.

“I hope we will. You’re, without a doubt, the most fascinating person I’ve met in a while,” only Neil’s matter-of-fact tone could make you turn back to face him.

If only to check whether it was not some meaningless jest. But there was no joke shining in his blue eyes. Only certainty. On the outskirts of your perception, you noted the station you had just left. That catchy ABBA song sharing its name reverberated in your head as if queued up by the gremlins occupying your brain.

Or something.

In any way, there was hardly time to idle.

“Likewise,” you shared a meaningful nod, not brave enough to express even half of what was running in your head. Instead, you decided to do what you did best and took the jump, “It’s my stop next, so I have to… Would you like to give me your number?” the line delivery was perfected over time.

So much so that by now, you did it without a hitch. Without cracking a smile so long as the recipient was processing the line with silence. The poker face stayed on until you saw that first glimmer of a smile or bursting bout of laughter. Only then did you let yourself crack, too. Just a flash of a smile to let them in on a secret.

Neil’s responding laugh and an amused grin shot straight up your veins like adrenaline. Like a drug you could feel yourself getting addicted to. He seemed to debate his reply for a beat before speaking:

“Maybe. But only if you still remember who I am in two weeks,” the challenge in the statement was clear.

Conveniently for both of you – you were never the one to pass on proving a point. Especially since this one was not going to be difficult. At all.

With all the confidence, you were sure you would think about those blue eyes and blonde mess of a hairstyle for many days to come. During many different times of the day.

Extending the hand to “shake on it”, you clasped his palm firmly. The “game on” look in your eyes completed the picture. The train began to slow down as the PA system crackled to life overhead. There was no time to waste.

“Deal. Do I get bonus points if I think about you during the off hours, too?” with his hand still clasped in yours, you stroked the back of it with your thumb.

A glance at the revealed forearm showed the goosebumps rising in the wake of your touch. Or maybe it was due to the implication? You would never know for sure.

The adorable blush spread over Neil’s cheekbones, suggesting he knew what you meant. He bowed his head as if overwhelmed with bashfulness and whispered the question over your joined hands.

“Do you?” there were two meanings to that question, and both had the same answer.

Do you think about me in those moments? Do you mean that?

Yes. You spelt out the confirmation with your fingertips over his knee. Like it was a secret. Out loud, you said:

“Maybe” the lights of Southwark were like a harsh wake-up, throwing you out of the daydream and into reality. You got up before anything could convince you to be sillier than acceptable. One glance down at the man who had somehow turned your world on its head was enough to soften your gaze, “Bye, Neil. Hope you have a nice day, giving communion or whatever it is priests do,” the joke landed spectacularly, with loud laughter from Neil and a burst of pride in your chest.

He grinned at you, something like happiness shining in the eyes that always seemed to contain melancholy. The desire to know what that was did not want to get any smaller. The doors slid open, forcing you to take that decisive step, fiercely hoping fate would be as generous in a week.

“See you around, Cupid,” Neil’s farewell rang out as you stepped out from the train.

You smiled like a lunatic as you walked down the platform. It was too easy to hope the Jubilee line would bring him to you again.

***

By the next Wednesday, you were prepared. You had timed your morning routine down to the last second to be sure you would get on that same train. And hoped Neil would do the same. Although, for a bystander, the action on your part could come off as desperate, you would never use that word yourself. No, this was pure curiosity. Way to spice up the morning commute and maybe get a friendship out of it. Just that. Only that.

When you descended onto the St. John’s Wood platform at precisely 7:19, your crossed fingers were hidden in your pocket. With bated breath (and an air of nonchalance), you stepped aboard the 7:21 Jubilee line train heading towards Stratford. Just like you planned.

You only let the breath out when your gaze fell upon the familiar dark blonde head. The accompanying hiccup in your heartbeat was to be ignored. Until further notice. Or forever. Aware of the crazed grin on your face, you crossed the space to the places occupied by Neil and asked:

“Is this seat taken?” this time, you were ready for his responding smile, dazzling you close to unconsciousness.

Only the hand tightly grasping the railing was necessary to keep you upright. But Neil need not know that. With your free hand, you motioned towards the seat occupied by his laptop bag.

“Now it is, yes,” Neil grabbed it instantly, putting the bag on the floor and turning toward you with a smile, “I was hoping I’d see you today,” the simple sentence was enough to spark the blooming warmth in your chest.

You did not even realise the cold had settled there throughout the week. In favour of ignoring the thought, you took the plastic seat with an accompanying creak of the material and turned the cheeky smile on Neil:

“Yeah? Were you holding your breath for it?” no matter the teasing, you were glad he had been waiting for you.

That it was not just you who had hoped the meeting no. three would happen. Allowing yourself the pleasure of staring at Neil, you let your eyes roam over his face. You noted the darker circles under his eyes and the tiredness hiding in the blue of his irises.

“From Swiss Cottage,” Neil’s reply made you store the observations in the drawer at the back of your head and stare at him with eyes open wide.

Now, that was interesting.

“That’s where you live?” you could not hide how you perked up hearing the information.

Neil saw through all the tricks you tried to pull up, immediately flashing a knowing smile. That was no mistake, not a case of him saying too much by accident. He wanted you to know. Or, alternately, he did not care too much about keeping it a secret.

“It is. Which makes me think we’re kinda sorta neighbours,” his lips twisted into a pleased smile as he confirmed your assumptions and added his layer of ridicule to the conversation “In the quirky Londony way” as if following internal logic you were not privy to, Neil shimmied in the seat, clearly highlighting the quirkiness of that statement.

There was no controlling the burst of laughter that escaped your lips and rang out in the carriage with embarrassing volume. Clamping your mouth shut, you slid down in the chair and glared at Neil, shaking with barely contained giggles. It was perfect.

Once you felt like you could control yourself, you broke the silence with a reply and a nod:

 “That we are,” then, if only because the giddiness was still making your body shake with joy, you added, “It’s good to know,” you met Neil’s gaze, looking for a pointer.

A sign that it was alright to follow the instinct again. You quickly found what you had been looking for as Neil inclined his head towards yours with glimmering eyes full of curiosity.

“Why?” you might have imagined the deeper timbre in his voice.

It might have just been your wishful thinking that Neil was eager to go along with your flirtations. But it also could have been a fact. Another one of those moments of courage when he seemed to forget what shyness is.

Aware of the danger divagations like those could bring, you shook them off with a shrug, easily deflecting the topic and leaving the assumptions as just that. Luckily, the perfect distraction was waiting on the tip of your tongue.

“Actually- Are you a farmer?” turning the unblinking stare on him, you awaited the responding smile like an early riser waiting for the sunrise.

As soon as you left the carriage a week before, you knew the silly guessing game would have to go on. Even if only for the sake of your amusement. Judging by Neil’s resigned sigh, he was willing to comply.

“So, this continues, huh?” the question was a mere formality, and he did not wait for an answer, dismissing your guess with a sleigh of hand, “Nope, try again,” you certainly did not imagine the pleased nonchalance as Neil settled against the side of the carriage and measured you coolly.

Never afraid to be seen, you felt a shiver run up your spine when you were the sole focus of his attention. The particular way he caressed every inch of your body with curiosity made you wonder what his touch would be like. What kind of lover would he be?

“That’s a shame. Would love to meet a sheep herder,” slamming the metaphorical door shut at the yearnings of your heart, you let your mouth run wild.

And again, it delivered. It was not a lie, but it was bullshit. Yet Neil did not seem too bothered, staring at you for approximately 30 seconds before shooting you a wink worth another minuscule heart attack:

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” yet again, he patted your knee good-naturedly and just as quickly retracted his hand, distracting you with a question, “Can I ask you something?” you could not miss the sudden change of tone.

It sobered you up, forcing you to strengthen your spine and give Neil full attention. After the minutes of whimsical conversations, you considered taking that one step further. It was only a blessing that he did it first.

“Anything,” hoping your smile was just as welcoming as you wanted it to be, you trained your eyes on that unruly strand of hair that always seemed to fall into Neil’s eyes.

Your hands were itching with the want to brush it away.

Neil sighed as if bracing himself for something. Then he started to speak:

“When we met, you said that you’re not even sure you believe love exists, let alone feel it for that guy… Did you mean that?” the question reverberated in the carriage, which suddenly was too quiet.

You glanced at Neil, not knowing what to expect, only to find nothing but curiosity in his face. The question was one that you were asked before. Many times before. But it was the first instance that you wanted to answer it. There was no judgment hiding behind the question mark, only the desire to understand. To figure out what you were all about.

That was a reason enough for honesty. Keeping your eyes locked with Neil, you took a deep breath and replied:

“Yeah… It’s like, I know it’s a thing people feel, and I guess that must mean it’s real, but I’ve never… I don’t think it’s as much a big deal as everyone makes it seem to be” that familiar frustration bled into your words as you felt the years of misunderstandings inspire the speech and spur on the sincerity, “I like sex and all that, just not the… swoony, tender bullshit that fixes absolutely nothing and only seems to make people miserable” you finished the reply on a groan and measured Neil with a sceptical look “Satisfied?” that was the dreaded moment.

When part of the curtain has risen to reveal the truth underneath. The silence felt almost stifling, and you did not know why. It was all true. Every word has been spoken with honesty and came from your soul. From the soul that was tired of glorification always bestowed on love, feelings, and all things pink and fizzy, that complicated what could be simple. Even if love existed, you were sure you would rather never feel it. It was better that way. Simpler.

You doubted there was anything in the world that could convince you otherwise.

But still, that beat of silence before Neil reacted to your impassioned speech was torturous. You forced yourself to keep looking at him, awaiting that curt nod. Once it came, you let out a long sigh, feeling your body cave in on itself as if manifesting that sudden energy drop.

“Yeah, and also concerned,” Neil’s voice was the thread that kept you anchored to the moment, although it was impossible to tune out the underlining worry you had detected in his tone.

It was inconceivable. You could deal with disgust and ignorance, but concern was not something you understood. It made you helpless. You shook it off the best way you could – with a flirty smirk and a question:

“Are you a romantic, sweetheart?” the pet name rolled off your tongue with ease, meeting no resistance from Neil save for an uncertain smile and a dusting of pink along his cheekbones.

You could work with that.

The question, too, came from a place of curiosity. Sure, you could have left the topic where it was and rushed off into another silly conversation. But why should you? One look at the upcoming station showed you that the time was still running out, and you did not have much to lose. You met Neil’s bashful look head-on, patiently waiting for him to find the words.

“As much as one can be a romantic when they’re utterly untethered,” once he spoke, you could hear the sadness defining his confession and the constant weight of it dragging him down.

The choice of the word made you search his gaze for an explanation. It was impossible to believe someone this gorgeous could be lonely, let alone without a line of admirers waiting at their every beck and call. Yet the melancholy tinting his words suggested otherwise. Knowing the situation called for something more subtle than your usual repertoire of blatant flirting, you dropped your voice to a soothing tone and lowered your head to keep holding Neil’s gaze:

“Like ever or…?” trailing off, you watched as he seemed to wage an internal battle for close to a minute.

Even without knowing him that well, you could guess what it was about. It took a certain level of courage to be vulnerable in front of a stranger, to reveal one’s deepest regrets to someone not that familiar. Although you did not want to speak, you hoped the impassive yet open look on your face showed him that you would not pass judgment, no matter what it would be.

On its own accord, your gaze followed the sharp lines of his face, drawn closed with thought and up over the halo of his hair, shining in the fake yellow light of the carriage. If there was one word to describe Neil, it would be golden. You could only imagine the comparison would get more apt in the proper, warm light of those rare autumnal days in London that seemed to approach fast.

Before you had the chance to analyse that thought and place it under necessary scrutiny, Neil broke the silence:

“No, just for the past few years. No matter how hard I may fall, it’s never enough, so…” the blue eyes that rose to meet yours were burdened with resignation that, for a second, felt like it could crack your heart into two.

But you shook it off, reaching for the layers of frustration that always seemed present. For the annoyance at the society that had fooled people into believing that love was some holy grail of existence, the point of your miserable lives to live up to. When it was everything but. The familiar fire burned in your eyes as you clasped a hand over Neil’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly:

“See? Love’s overrated,” swallowing past the bitterness coating your tongue, you shot him a manic grin.

And ignored the alarms blaring in your head.

***

Before, those twenty minutes of commute between home and Canary Wharf were spent zoning out. Only sometimes, he could shake up the routine with a book or a particularly interesting podcast episode. After, it became an affair of watch-checking and foot-tapping until the train arrived at St. John’s Wood, and she would either be there or not.

Despite the impressions, Neil much preferred the after. Even if for the past two Wednesday mornings, he awoke with a strangely knotted stomach and a dumb smile of anticipation forming on his lips. That aside, it was nice to have something to look forward to.

Apart from the complexities of inverted physics, that is.

Timing the arrival on the Swiss Cottage platform for the right train was not an issue. It was something Neil had always done, unable to shake off the shackles of routine that seemed like second nature by now. When he boarded the Jubilee line heading towards Stratford, the anxiety set in like an old friend. It did not help that the carriage was packed this time, offering no available seats. With a tired sigh, Neil grabbed the nearest handrailing and stared out the window.

Without effort on his side, she soon enough came to mind. That happened a lot since that fateful afternoon. He had yet to decide whether it was a good or bad thing. For now, it was simply a fact. Like the anticipation of seeing her in two minutes, for the fourth time since the meeting. That also made Neil feel some way, but he was not brave (or willing) to understand it yet.

Perhaps the most crucial fact was that she, the newly appointed Cupid and the most baffling person he had met, was impossible to forget. And now, after three conversations that only expanded the mystery and made his curiosity insatiable, Neil did not try to forget. No, today (if she showed up), he would give her his number and let that determine the course. It was easy enough to think, harder still to execute.

By the time he had convinced himself that it was achievable and that it was alright to let go of the control this once, the train slowed to a crawling speed, and the lights of St. John’s Wood shone into the carriage. Before Neil could descend into another sort of anxious spiral, the doors slid open, and he had no choice but to expectantly stare at the commuters streaming in. He did not have to wait long, for right after the first row of impatient tourists and gravelly serious businessmen forced their way onto the Tube, she daintily stepped inside and flashed him another of those brilliant smiles.

It was nearly impossible to prevent his gaze from scanning her from head to toe like an uncontrollable Neanderthal that had caught the first sight of a woman. It was a reflex, a reaction Neil tried to stifle by forcefully dragging his eyes towards her face.

He was, without a doubt, an idiot.

The internal crisis had to be put on hold when she crossed that bit of space and leaned on the railing, curious eyes roaming over his face like they always did. Neil did not try to convince himself she was doing anything but checking him out.

“Ready to claim your reward?” the question helped him get the hang of the situation instead of losing his cool any minute.

That was highly probable with the way Cupid was staring at his face, seemingly unbothered by the movements of the carriage and the cramped space. It was also a good way of reminding her, though Neil did not doubt she would have forgotten. For reasons utterly inconceivable, the woman was driven to get his number.

The only excuse he had for waiting so long to let her have it was the constant disbelief that made it virtually impossible for Neil to trust she wanted it for real. As in not because of some elaborate joke that he was not privy to. And yes, that did happen. Once.

“Ecstatic,” her reply delivered in a perfectly monotone voice did make him focus. He watched as she glanced around the carriage, only now taking in the surroundings, “Looks like we’re standing today,” the observation seemed like a safe opener, and Neil immediately felt grateful.

It was that necessary push to make him relax a little and get out of his head. Even if only for the next quarter of an hour he would have with her.

“Do you have anything against that?” copying her pose, he leaned in closer, testing the luck that did not seem to have run out just yet.

If anything, she closed the space by another fraction, offering him a generous whiff of her perfume (Neil’s head did not feel ridiculously fuzzy because of it) and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her lips curled into a tell-tale smirk that should have been the first clue of what was coming.

“Nope. I’m not too fussy about positions,” as soon as Cupid dropped her voice to a seductive timbre and grazed his shoulder with her fingers, Neil was done for.

He blinked twice, hoping to unfreeze the brain that continued to display the error404.exe. Because what the fuck was that? Who acted like this with near strangers?

Cupid, that’s who. Judging by her self-satisfied smile, she was pleased with the reaction. She brushed the lint he had not noticed before from his cuff and observed him silently. Despite the heart attack, Neil had to give her kudos for the attempt. He did so by slightly bowing his head in her direction and a wry smile:

“I walked right into this one, didn’t I?” once he looked up, the amusement still warming up his chest, even if tinted with bafflement, Cupid was waiting for him, expectantly meeting his gaze as if there was nothing in the world that could make her look away.

She was truly something else.

“Yeah, you did,” her knowing eyes cut through all the posturing Neil could ever hope to attempt as she took a deep breath and went in straight with the agenda, “Soo… Can I have your number?” that cheeky grin was still in place, adding to her charm.

Although Neil would be the first to admit she did not need additional charisma points or anything of the sort. She was already lethal. That realisation did not make him any keener to pull back or put a stop to the dance she had drawn him into.

Neil eyed her closely, feeling the weight of his phone in the pocket. The answer was yes, of course, but she did not need to know that… yet.

“Are you going to sign me up for the Tories news updates?” having noticed how she reacted to his smirks, he presented her with one when posing the question.

To anyone, it might have seemed worryingly specific. Cupid just measured him up with her piercing gaze and asked:

“… Did that happen before?” the deadly serious tone added to the ridicule, making Neil crack a smile.

“No, but it might,” he shrugged, hoping the joke had landed well enough to mask the awkwardness threatening to make a scene.

It was not that he did not feel comfortable around her or that there were some strong-founded beliefs she was not to be trusted. Instead, it was what it had always been. What Neil had hinted at during their previous conversation. It was that it had never worked out before. And it was hardly possible that it would now.

Especially considering what she had revealed that last time, too. It was best to be cautious. But that, in the face of those beautiful eyes and fascinating personality, was a challenge.

He did not even know yet just how true that statement would be.

“No, the worst you can expect is lame pickup lines and dumb memes,” unaware of Neil’s slow descent into madness, she replied to the previous question, intertwining a sardonic grin in between the statements “I’d also suggest nudes, but we’re not there yet, I think” it took him an embarrassingly long time to process her words with the mind foolishly lured into the safety of a normal conversation. Well, no more. Shit. „Unless-” before she could say another disastrous word and push him down the staircase towards the pit of insanity, Neil closed her mouth with his palm.

Anything was better than talking to her about prospective nudes. Even touching her face and getting shocked when the warmth of her breath hit his skin, forcing Neil to pull it back almost as fast as he had done it in the first place. She just stared back, relentlessly curious and unmoved.

“We’re definitely not there yet,” aware of the deep blush that had bloomed on his face like a sign of contagion, Neil dropped his gaze onto the floor and murmured the command, “Give me your phone,” the conversation was already a disaster, so might as well. Right?

She laughed and the sound was enough to draw him out of the hiding and look up. Neil already knew he would do whatever he could to make her laugh like that again. And then once more still.

Her warm hand slipped into his palm, passing the phone like a beacon of trust he did not know he could deserve. It was accompanied by a simple quip that still somehow made him feel lightheaded:

“Here, kind sir,” on retreat, her fingers brushed down the length of his digits, stopping for a split second at the tips of his fingers. The resulting sparks were certainly a figment of his imagination, “Any texting rules? Is there anyone that might intercept your messages?” her voice broke through another brief blue screen issue in Neil’s brain and forced him to focus.

Focus on opening the phone app on her phone and typing in his number correctly. The last thing he would have wanted was to fuck up and make a mistake, immediately losing any chances he would have had at a friendship with her. Yes, friendship. Even as an idiot, Neil knew that was all it would be. Which was fine. It really was.

Once he double-checked that the right digits were typed in, there came a second dilemma of the evening. The contact name. Neil stole a glance at her, still patiently waiting for an answer to her questions that he seemed inept to give. It offered a perfect stalling opportunity:

“Rogue mate, maybe, but it’s okay. I can live with his teasing,” it was something to worry about later, considering that no one knew about her yet. If asked, Neil was not sure he could explain why. The betraying part of his brain that always wanted to blurt out some incriminating thoughts admitted it was because he wanted those interactions only for himself, as a secret to cherish in the quiet of his mind.  He slammed the door on that pathetic voice and looked up at her with tentative hope sparking in his chest. It was just another risk to take, right? “Should we… keep this time and day as a standing arrangement thing?” not willing to bet even half a dime on her positive answer, Neil put his attention back on the topic at hand.

Literally. He was still holding her phone. The contact’s name was still empty. He had to think of something.

Then, right when his stomach clenched with that first tell-tale sign of anxiety, the right thing came to mind. The perfect thing.Neil fought the desire to grin like an English cousin of the Joker and saved his number, handing the locked phone back to Cupid. She did not check it, pocketing the device and turning her thoughtful gaze on him:

“Sure thing. I need time to warm you up for those nude pics,” she offered Neil a criminal wink and glanced at the display to check the approaching station.

The nonchalance had the chance of killing him before an inverted bullet would. He was willing to bet on it.

“Can’t wait,” he swallowed hard against the mess of thoughts and emotions in his head and glared at her.

He really could not wait. Maybe. Possibly.

It was both a curse and a blessing that her station was approaching fast, offering maybe three or four minutes more. The strange disappointment coated the back of his throat as Neil allowed himself to stare. To observe her, with her lively eyes and almost permanent cheeky smile. Even now, he did not dare ogle her body, already too aware of the heat of her presence so close to his orbit. The danger was too grave to consider what this would not become.

“I’ve got one more question,” her voice acted like the thread of Ariadne, leading him to the exit from the labyrinth of his own making. Neil met her gaze just in time to notice the playful sparks dancing there, “Are you a cook?” she leaned a little closer again as if testing his waning control and steadied herself against the sudden movement of the train with her hand resting on his shoulder.

Even through the cotton shirt, he could feel the heat of the contact.

It was almost enough to distract him from the ridicule of her question. Almost, because as soon as he had sobered up, Neil did not try to fight the smile pulling at his lips. She was ridiculous.

“No, unless we consider the Risotto Milanese, I can make from scratch,” giving her as good as he got, Neil offered her a wink and reached for the dwindling depositories of courage to cover her hand holding onto the railing.

Admittedly, he was enjoying the guessing game she had decided to make out of the situation. It was a better alternative to Neil telling her the truth, and 1) putting her in potential danger, and 2) making her believe something that did not sound real.

Cupid did not seem bothered by his actions and kept her hand where it was. Her eyes met his as she stated a simple wish:

“Count me in,” then, as if Neil was not yet aware of what a kind of woman she was, she licked her lips thoroughly.

He did not try to imagine what they would taste like.

“When?” as if possessing a mind of its own, his thumb rubbed invisible circles onto the skin between her knuckles.

Neil did not want to be responsible for the actions of his own body. Or for the thoughts that sprang into his mind whenever she gave him that sure smile and bated her lashes.

“You’ll see,” it was her turn to wink, and the confidence in her gaze almost made him believe she knew something he did not.

Like whatever was waiting in their future.

It was a blessing in disguise that the train was now approaching the Southwark station. Neil did not think he could be trusted with more time to spend next to her. Instead, he levelled her with what he hoped was a critical glare and asked:

“Has anyone told you that you’re a nightmare?” he knew there was no chance of losing that affectionate undertone in his voice or making ‘nightmare’ not sound like the most tender of pet names.

Apart from being an idiot, Neil was also a lost cause. It would seem.

The train yet again slowed to a crawling pace as the platform lights etched mirage-like constellations on her face. It was impossible to look away. So, Neil stared as she, the incomparable Cupid, slid her hand down the railing, away from his palm and tapped his wrist. Twice. As if he could have missed the first time.

Just as he was beginning to hope she would leave without giving him another heart attack, she leaned in, closing the space, and pressed a quick peck to his cheek. As soon as he had registered it was happening, it was already over, and Cupid was standing in the carriage doorway with that unchanging smirk on her face:

“More than once,” without waiting for a reply (not that Neil would have had one), she stepped out of the train and disappeared in the crowds of commuters.

Neil was an idiot, a lost cause, and undoubtedly screwed. One way or another.

***

/Unknown number, 5:15 pm/ Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

/✝️, 5:20 pm/ Already?

/✝️, 5:20 pm/ God, you’re fast.

/ 🏹, 5:22 pm/ That’s the effect you have on me 😘

/ 🏹, 5:22 pm/ Clever emoji choice, I gotta admit. Took me a little to find you. What did I get?

/✝️, 5:25 pm/ You’ll see.

/ 🏹, 5:26 pm/ When?

/✝️, 5:30 pm/ Soon 😘

 / 🏹, 5:35 pm/ Ah, delayed gratification. Just wait till I get impatient.

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ And then what?

/ 🏹, 5:47 pm/ I’ll punish you. Something tells me you’d like that.

/✝️, 5:49 pm/ You’re a menace.

/✝️, 5:49 pm/ On second thought, I think I’ll have the nude pics you’ve mentioned.

/ 🏹, 5:50 pm/ Not yet, sweetheart. Practice what you preach first.

/✝️, 5:55 pm/ I’ll see you?

/ 🏹, 5:57 pm/ You’ll see me. You’ll get sick of me even.

/✝️, 5:59 pm/ Challenge accepted, Cupid.

[stephensmithuk]

The Blanched Soldier

Originally published in 1926; the Americans actually got this one first by a month.

I have covered the Boer War extensively in a previous post, but will add some notes on items directly relevant to this story.

The Imperial Yeomanry were a volunteer i.e. not career military force of mounted infantry formed in 1900 as reinforcements in the Boer War. They were disbanded in 1908 and merged into the Territorial Force, a precursor of what is now called the Army Reserve.

Mounted infantry were infantry that travelled on horseback and fount dismounted. They continued in use into the Cold War, with some units also being "mounted" on bicycles on both sides of the Second World War, before being replaced with mechanised infantry.

Middlesex was the traditional county that covered much of the North and West of what is now Greater London; losing a large chunk of its territory and population to the London County Council in 1889. It was abolished in 1965, but remains very much a thing for sporting and cultural purposes, with its own county cricket team being just one example.

A martinet is a strict disciplinarian, the name coming for a type of short whip. Arnold RImmer from Red Dwarf is sometimes described as such, although the character is clearly meant to be quite pathetic.

The Victoria Cross is the highest British award for gallantry, equivalent to the Medal of Honor and like that medal, frequently awarded posthumously. It also usually requires multiple witnesses to the gallantry in question. It trumps absolutely everything bar the George Cross in the honours system, and it is traditional for a private with a VC to be saluted by a general officer.

The most recent VC was awarded to Joshua Leakey in 2015 for his involvement in a firefight with the Taliban in Afghanistan in 2013, where he took control of a machine gun left on a hill and kept firing even as bullets ricocheted off the weapon.

An elephant gun is a large calibre rifle intended for use against elephants and large animals. They saw some military use in the World Wars by the British against armoured German snipers in the trenches of the First and by the Italians against British armoured cars in North Africa during the Second. Since ivory hunting became taboo, they are much less common.

Bedford is a market town in England and county town of Bedfordshire. It has two stations, the main one being located on the Midland Main Line running into St Pancras. Served by Thameslink, East Midlands Railway and London Northwestern Railway services, the last on the Marston Vale line to Bletchley, it is on the outer edge of the London commuter belt.

The other station at Bedford St. John's is served by LNWR services on the Marston Vale line to Bletchley, which is part of the former Varsity Line from Oxford to Cambridge. The station was resited in 1984.

The Sultan of Turkey - and the whole Ottoman Empire - in 1903 was Abdul Hamid II, a modernising absolute ruler who faced many assassination attempts and was ousted in a coup in 1909, replaced by his half-brother Mehmed V.

The Spectator is a British political magazine that has run since 1828. Being distinctly conservative in its world view, its former editors include one Boris Johnson.

"Squadron" was the traditional term for company or battalion sized cavalry or mounted infantry units. Outside of naval and air force use, it is now used for armoured units, which are frequently old cavalry units that just changed their level of horsepower.

Stoep is an Afrikaans word for "stoop".

Leprosy is transmittable by close contact, but you generally need a lot of it. It is still common in Brazil, much of Africa and India, but is now curable. Prejudice remains a big problem, with "leper colonies" still being common.

The general scholarly consensus is that it wasn't ichthoysis, of which there are many types. The NHS has more information here (with pictures): https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/ichthyosis/

[blackswaneuroparedux]

At last, After our home attain'd, we turn'd, and lo! With festal fires the hills were lit! Thine eve Saint John, had come once more, and for thy sake As though but yesterday thy crown were worn, Amid their ruinous realm uncomforted The Irish people triumph'd. Gloomy lay The intermediate space; - thence brightlier burn'd The circling fires beyond it. 'Lo!' Said I, Man's life as view'd by Ireland's sons; a vale With many a pitfall throng'd, and shade, and briar, Yet overblown by angel-haunted airs, And by the Light Eternal girdled round.

Aubrey Thomas de Vere, The Sisters (1861)

June 24th is St John's Day.

Saint John's Eve, starting at sunset on 23 June, is the eve of celebration before the Feast Day of Saint John the Baptist. The Gospel of Luke (Luke 1:26–37, 56–57) states that John was born six months before Jesus; therefore, the feast of John the Baptist was fixed on 24 June, six months before Christmas according to the old Roman calculation. This feast day is one of the very few saints' days which commemorates the anniversary of the birth, rather than the death, of the saint being honoured. The Feast of Saint John closely coincides with the June solstice, also referred to as Midsummer in the Northern Hemisphere. The Christian holy day is fixed at 24 June; but in most countries festivities are mostly held the night before, on Saint John's Eve. This holiday is celebrated in many places.

In England and Ireland there is a tradition to jump over a bonfire holding hands with your lover. Your love will last all year. Save the ash from your fire. It will protect crops from lightening storms.

Across many parts of Europe they celebrate St. John’s day with bonfires.

In France, the "Fête de la Saint-Jean" (feast of St John), traditionally celebrated with bonfires (le feu de la Saint-Jean) that are reminiscent of Midsummer's pagan rituals, is a Catholic festivity in celebration of Saint John the Baptist. It takes place on June 24, on Midsummer day (St John's day). Nowadays it is seldom celebrated. In certain French towns, a tall bonfire is built by the inhabitants in order to be lit on St John's Day. In the Vosges region and in the Southern part of Meurthe-et-Moselle, this huge bonfire is named "chavande".

In Norway, as elsewhere in Scandinavian countries, this event is celebrated with a communal bonfire. The event is also known as Jonsok, meaning ‘wake of Saint John’.

[metrocentric]

< BROCKLEY ST JOHNS DEPTFORD >

St John's Vale, SE8

[theveriest]

A couple of weeks ago I asked about people’s favorite book or books they read this year. Between Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and discord, I have a list of 123 books in no particular order that my friends and family loved this year. If it was a series then I listed the first book. Each star is an additional recommendation. I haven’t read all of these, they may or may not reflect my personal opinions, though my favorite books are on the list too. The most recommended books were How Far The Light Reaches by Sabrina Imbler, one or all of the Murderbot books by Martha Wells, and Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki, because if there’s one thing my friends have in common across platforms, it’s that you’re all nerds (affectionate). Enjoy, and I hope you find your new favorite book!

Reformatory by Tananarive Due

Not My Father’s Son by Alan Cumming

Jesus and John Wayne by Kristen Kobes de Mez

The Soul Of An Octopus by Sy Montgomery

Rough Sleepers by Tracy Kidder

The Going To Bed Book by Sandra Boynton

My Hijacking by Martha Hodes

Longhand by Andy Hamilton

Babel by RF Kuang*

The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff*

Lies We Sing To The Sea by Sarah Underwood

The Remarkable Journey of Coyote Sunrise by Dan Gemeinhart

Dress Coded by Carrie Firestone

I Lost My Tooth! by Mo Willems

The Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros

Spirits Abroad by Zen Cho

How Far The Light Reaches by Sabrina Imbler**

Radiant Fugitives by Nawaaz Ahmed

Solito: A Memoir by Javier Zamora

The Making of Another Motion Picture Masterpiece by Tom Hanks

These Precious Days by Ann Patchett*

I’m Stuck by Julia Mills

Entangled Life by Martin Sheldrake

Iris by Eden Finley

Hot Vampire Next Door by Nikki St. Crowe

Devil of Dublin by BB Easton

Tied by Carian Cole

Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld*

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell

From Blood And Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Where I End by Sophie White

Wool by Hugh Howey

The Six Deaths of the Saint by Alix E. Harrow

Yellowface by RF Kuang

Idlewild by James Frankie Thomas

North Woods by Daniel Mason

After Sappho by Selby Wynn Schwartz

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin*

The Fragile Threads of Power by VE Schwab

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari

The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

The Book of the Unnamed Midwife by Meg Elison

Call Your Daughter Home by Deb Spera

The English Understand Wool by Helen Dewitt

Preserving Food Without Freezing or Canning by The Gardeners & Farmers of Terre Vivante

How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water by Angie Cruz

Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury

Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

Love In The Time of Serial Killers by Alicia Thompson

Imogen, Obviously by Becky Albertalli

The Wicked Bargain by Gabe Cole Novoa*

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle

Welcome to Night Vale by Jeffrey Cranor and Joseph Fink

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas

The Last Mapmaker by Christina Soontornvat

Funny You Should Ask by Elissa Sussman

Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Prophet by Sin Blache and Helen MacDonald*

Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki**

System Collapse by Martha Wells***

The Brutish Museums by Dan Hicks

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine*

A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine

A Psalm For The Wild Built by Becky Chambers*

Several People Are Typing by Calvin Kasulke

The Lazarus Heist by Geoff White

The September House by Carissa Orlando*

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

The Spirit Bares Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White

Mistletoe and Mishigas by MA Wardell

A Restless Truth by Freya Marske

The Last Smile In Sunder City by Luke Arnold

The Hidden Case of Ewan Forbes by Zoe Playden

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Manywhere by Morgan Thomas

Shit Cassandra Saw by Gwen E. Kirby

Loot by Tania James

The Art Thief by Michael Finkel

Grave Expectations by Alice Bell

Astrid Parker Doesn’t Fail by Ashley Herring Blake

A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

Kiss Her Once For Me by Alison Cochrun

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

All Systems Read by Martha Wells

The Once and Future Sex by Eleanor Janega

Mort by Terry Pratchett

Into The Drowning Deep by Mira Grant

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner*

The Door by Magda Szabo

Fluids by May Leitz

The Readers of Broken Wheel Recommend by Katarina Bivald

Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Lieut. John Irving, R.N. of H.M.S. "Terror" in Sir John Franklin's last expedition to the Arctic regions a memorial sketch with letters

In Five Years by Rebecca Serle

Raven the Pirate Princess by Jeremy Whitley

Under the Whispering Door by TJ Klune

The Fiancée Farce by Alexandria Bellefleur

Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb

Slewfoot by Brom

The Secret Life of Groceries by Benjamin Lorr

500 Miles From You by Jenny Colgan

O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker

The Hand That First Held Mine by Maggie O’Farrell

The Secret Lives of Country Gentleman by KJ Charles

A Line In The World by Dorthe Nors

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

Glitter and Concrete by Elyssa Maxx Goodman

The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez

Tender Is The Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica

The Tragic Menagerie by Lydia Zinovieva-Annibal (translated by Jane Costlow)

The 100 Years Of Lenni and Margot by Marianne Cronin

Beartown by Fredrik Backman

I Have Some Questions For You by Rebecca Makkai

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett

Starling House by Alix E. Harrow

Twisted Love by Ana Huang

Precise Oaths by Paige E. Ewing

Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots

A Dead Djinn In Cairo by P. Djeli Clark

[favevoiceactorbracket]

Meet the Competing Voice Actors!

After the preliminaries and days of deliberating, here are you VOICE ACTORS COMPETING! One will take home the spot of Tumblr's Favorite Voice Actor!

A note before they are introduced! If you would like to support any of them send in an ask or make propaganda, any propaganda you make and post yourself should have me tagged! As well using the tags #favevabracket or #favevabracket2023!

And a quick reminder about the two rules that will be staying active!

No harrassment, hate, or vitriol will be tolerated. We are here to celebrate the work of voice actors not tear each other down

This is all for fun! Do not take it super seriously!

Good luck to all of our competitors!

Kirby Morrow

Rob Paulsen

Robbie Daymond

Tiana Camacho

Alex Hirsch

Khoi Dao

Megumi Ogata

Ray Chase

Sungwon Cho

tara strong

Yuri Lowenthal

Alejandro Saab

Billy Kametz

Billy West

bryce papenbrook

Cree Summer

Grey DeLisle-Griffin

Kevin Conroy

Phil Lamar

Zach Aguilar

Zeno Robinson

AJ Michalka

Alex Brightman

Allegra Clark

Ashley Johnson

Christopher R. Sabat

Daws Butler

Eartha Kitt

Erika Harlacher-Stone

Frank Welker

J. Michael Tatum

Jack De Sena

Jason Griffith

JK Simmons

John DiMaggio

June Foray

Kristen Schaal

Mark Hamill

Richard Horvitz

Steve Blum

Tom Kenny

Wendie Malick

Aaron Dismuke

Aaron Paul

Aimee Carrero

Alison Brie

Ami Koshimizu

Angela Bassett

Ashley Ball

ashly burch

Avi Roque

Ayumu Murase

Ben Schwartz, baby!

BETH MAY

bill farmer

Bill Scott

brandon rogers

Caitlin Glass

Casey Kasem

Cassandra Lee Morris

Cecil Baldwin

Christine Cavanaugh

Clark Duke

Colleen Clinkenbeard

Daman Mills

Dan Castellaneta

Dan Provenmire

Dani Chambers

Dante Basco

Dave Fennoy

David Tennant

Deedee Magno Hall

Deven Mack

Doris Grau

Doug Boyd

Dylan Marron

Elizabeth Maxwell

EG Daily

Elijah Wood

Ellen McLain

Eric Vale

Erin Fitzgerald

Josey Montana McCoy

Greg Chun

Gu Jiangshan

Guilherme Briggs (brazilian)

Haley Tju

Harry Shearer

Haruka tomatsu

Helen Gould

Hynden Walch

Jack McBrayer

Jackson Publick

Jaime Lynn Marchi

Jason Griffith

Jason Liebrecht

jason marsden

Jennifer Hale

Jerry Jewell

Jim Cummings

Jim Ward

John Burgmeier

John Swasey

Johnny Yong Bosch

Julie Kavner

Justin Cook

Kaiji Tang

Katey Sagal

Kdin Jenzen

Keith David

Ken Sansom

Kent William

Kevin Brighting

Kevin R Free

Kieran Reagan

Kimberly Brooks

Kimiko glenn

Kyle Igneczi

Kyle McCarley

Laura Bailey

Lauren Tom

Leah Clark

Liam O’Brien

Lorenzo Music

Lucien Dodge

Lucille Bliss

Lydia Mackay

Lydia Nicholas

Maddie Blaustein

Mae Questel

Mae Whitman

Maggie Robertson

Mara Wilson

Mark Oliver

Matthew Mercer

Matthew Zahnzinger

Maurice LaMarche

Max Mittelman

Mel Blanc

Melissa Hutchinson

Michael Adamthwaite

Micheal Sinterniklaas

Mike Judge

Monical rial

Natsuki Hanae

Nicole Tompkins

Olivia Olson

Olivia Wilde

P.M. Seymour

Parker Simmons

Patricia Ja Lee

Patrick Pedraza

Paul Castro Jr

Paul Frees

Penny Parker

Pete Gustin ( i think thats how it's spelled)

Peter Cullen

Phil Harris

Phil Hartman

Ricco Fajardo

Roger Craig Smith

Roz Ryan

Sandra Oh

Sarah Miller-Crews

Sayaka Ohara

Scatman Crothers

Scott Adsit

Scott Mcneil

Stanley Tucci

Stephanie Beatriz

Stephen Merchant

Steve Whitmore

Tabitha st Germain

Takaya Kuroda

Tom Kane

Tress McNeil

Veronica Taylor

Vincent Tong

Will Arnett

Yasuo Yamada

Zach Callison

Bobbie Moyinhan

Josh Brener

Andrew Francis

Brent Millar

Sebastian Todd

Kestin Howard

Lizzy Hofe

Andy Cowley

Todd Haberkorn

Yoshimasa Hosoya

Russi Taylor

[tollingreminiscentbells]

As a random making-of fact, I threw in St John's Wood as a referenced location in the most recent chapter of RoCS. And Harry and Simon's house is in Maida Vale. The reason I picked that part of London is because I used to live there. Technically, we lived on the edge of St John's Wood heading more in the direction of Kilburn Park, but that's "my" London.

Clearly, I no longer live in the UK because I'm in Tokyo, but I did live in London for a few years in my late 20s, into my early 30s. I am neither British nor Japanese, for the record. I'm an American who has just spent most of her adult life outside of the United States.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 2.28

202 BC – Liu Bang is enthroned as the Emperor of China, beginning four centuries of rule by the Han dynasty. 870 – The Fourth Council of Constantinople closes. 1525 – Aztec king Cuauhtémoc is executed on the order of conquistador Hernán Cortés. 1638 – The Scottish National Covenant is signed in Edinburgh. 1835 – Elias Lönnrot signed and dated the first version of the Kalevala, the so-called foreword to the Old Kalevala. 1844 – A gun explodes on board the steam warship USS Princeton during a pleasure cruise down the Potomac River, killing six, including Secretary of State Abel Upshur. President John Tyler, who was also on board, was not injured from the blast. 1922 – The United Kingdom ends its protectorate over Egypt through a Unilateral Declaration of Independence. 1925 – The Charlevoix-Kamouraska earthquake strikes northeastern North America. 1947 – February 28 Incident: In Taiwan, civil disorder is put down with the death of an estimated 28,000 civilians. 1958 – A school bus in Floyd County, Kentucky hits a wrecker truck and plunges down an embankment into the rain-swollen Levisa Fork river. The driver and 26 children die in one of the worst school bus accidents in U.S. history. 1959 – Discoverer 1, an American spy satellite that is the first object intended to achieve a polar orbit, is launched but fails to achieve orbit. 1966 – A NASA T-38 Talon crashes into the McDonnell Aircraft factory while attempting a poor-visibility landing at Lambert Field, St. Louis, killing astronauts Elliot See and Charles Bassett. 1969 – The 1969 Portugal earthquake hits Portugal, Spain and Morocco. 1974 – The British election ended in a hung parliament after the Jeremy Thorpe-led Liberal Party achieved their biggest vote. 1975 – In London, an underground train fails to stop at Moorgate terminus station and crashes into the end of the tunnel, killing 43 people. 1983 – The final episode of MAS*H airs, with almost 110 million viewers. 1985 – The Provisional Irish Republican Army carries out a mortar attack on the Royal Ulster Constabulary police station at Newry, killing nine officers. 1986 – Olof Palme, 26th Prime Minister of Sweden, is assassinated in Stockholm. 1993 – Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (ATF) agents raid the Branch Davidian church in Waco, Texas with a warrant to arrest the group's leader David Koresh starting a 51-day standoff. 1997 – An earthquake in northern Iran is responsible for about 1,100 deaths. 1997 – A Turkish military memorandum resulted with collapse of the government in Turkey. 2001 – The 2001 Nisqually earthquake, having a moment magnitude of 6.8, with epicenter in the southern Puget Sound, damages Seattle metropolitan area. 2002 – During the religious violence in Gujarat, 97 people are killed in the Naroda Patiya massacre and 69 in the Gulbarg Society massacre. 2013 – Pope Benedict XVI resigns as the pope of the Catholic Church, becoming the first pope to do so since Pope Gregory XII, in 1415. 2023 – Two trains collide south of the Vale of Tempe in Greece, leading to the deaths of at least 57 people and leaving 58 missing and 85 injured.

[eridanisanenby]

Atlantis Attacks

Ant Ant

Arkham Asylum

Agent A (Alfred)

Amity Arkham

Amadeus Arkham

All-American comics

Baxter Building

Bombastic-Bag man

robert Bruce Banner

james Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes

Black Blot/Blackagar Boltagon

elizabeth “Betsy” Braddock

Brian Braddock

william “Billy” Braddock

Billy Batson

Beast Boy

Blue Beetle

Boston Brand

BlueBird

Bouncing Boy

Carl “Crusher” Creel

Captain Carter

nathan Christopher Charles summers/Cable

Curtis "Curt" Connors

Caped Crusader

oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot

Captain Cold

Captain Carrot

Catherine Cobert

Cressida Clarke

Crocky the Crodile

Doctor Darrk

Doctor Destiny

Dorthy Duncan

Ding-Dong Daddy

yankee Doodle Dandy

Dinah Drake

Darla Dudley

Damien Darhk

(new) Fantastic Four

Four Freedoms plaza

Fin Fang Foom

Freedom Fighters

Freddy Freeman

Felix Faust

Guardian of the Galaxy

Green Goblin

Guy Gardener

Gorilla Grodd

Gotham Gazette

Gotham Globe

Gotham General

Green Guardsman

Golden Glider

Glorious Gordon Godfrey

Happy Hogan

Hank Hensley

Hank Hall (Hawk)

Henry “Hank” Henshaw

Hank Hall

Hippolyta "lyta" Hall

Hank Haywood

Jessica Jones

John Jonah Jameson

Katherine “Kate” Kane

Kristen Kringle

Kip Kettering

Lacie Lorraine

Loki Laufeyson

Lunella Lafayette

Lonnie Lincoln

Lois Lane

Lex Luther

Lighting Lad

Linda Lee

Luma Lynai

Lana Lang

Laura Lang

Louise Lincoln

dinah Laurel Lance

Linda Lang

Lena Luther

MasterMind

May Melinda

Miles Morales (og 42)

Meows Morales

Michael Morbius

Multiverse of Madness

MilkMan Man

Mateo Maximoff

Marya Maximoff

Mole Man

Mister Mxyptlk “Mxy”

M’gann M’orzz/Megan Morse/Miss Martian

Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi

Mary Marvel

Miguel Montez

Music Master

Mr. Miracle

Mirror Master

Mad Mod

Malcolm Merlyn

Maria Mercedes Mooney

Matches Malone

Monsieur Mallah

Nia Nal

Olivia Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)

Pepper Potts

Peter Parker(s)

Pabitr Prabhakav

Peni Parker

Peter Porker

Pedro Peña

Penny Plunderer

Quasar’s Quantum bands

Quentin Quale

Reed Richards

Rocket Raccoon

Richard Rider

Roberto “Robbie” Reyes (og 69)

Rachel Roth (Raven)

Ronald Raymond

SlapStick

Sun Spider

Scarlet Spider

Serpent Society

Super Skrull

Silver Sable/Silvija Sablinova

Sinister Syndicate

Sinister Six

Steven Strange (dr Strange)

Sybil Silverlock

Susan “Sue” Storm

Spider-Society

Samuel Sterns

Sebastian Shaw

Suicide Squad

Star Sapphire

Silver St. Cloud

Secret Six

Pter Ptarker (TT)

Taneleer Tivan

Tyros The Terrible (Terrax)

Teen Titans

Titans Tomorrow

Tom Turbine

Traci Thirteen

Unus the Untouchable

Vicki Vale

Valerie Vale

Web Warriors

Wade Winston Wilson

Wallace “Wally” West

Wallace “ace” West II

Wonder Woman

Warlock the Wizard

Wizards & Warlocks

Zatanna Zatara

Zachary Zatara

Zilius Zox

Duela Dent Napier Nigma

Cooper Coen/Web Weaver

Matthew Michael “Matt” Murdock/DareDevil

Kamala Khan/Ms. Marvel

Otto Octavius (doctor Octopus/doc Ock)/Superior Spider-man

Victor Von doom/Doctor Doom

Warren Worthington III/ArchAngel

Cassandra “Cass” Cain/Black Bat

J’onn J’onnz/John Jones/Hank Henshaw/Martian Manhunter

Kei Kawade/Kaiju Kid(/Kid Kaiju)

Mitchell Mayo/Condiment King

Max Mercury/Windrunner Whip WhirlWind

Red Robin/Joker Junior

Cletus Cortland Kassidy (Carnage)

Clark Kent

Conner “Kon” Kent

Chemical King

Carrie Kelley

Killer Croc

Karen Crane

Seaboard City

Total alliteration: 207

[nem0c]

Vietnam War - Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine, June 1968

Sourced from: http://natsmusic.net/articles_galaxy_magazine_viet_nam_war.htm

Transcript Below

We the undersigned believe the United States must remain in Vietnam to fulfill its responsibilities to the people of that country.

Karen K. Anderson, Poul Anderson, Harry Bates, Lloyd Biggle Jr., J. F. Bone, Leigh Brackett, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Mario Brand, R. Bretnor, Frederic Brown, Doris Pitkin Buck, William R. Burkett Jr., Elinor Busby, F. M. Busby, John W. Campbell, Louis Charbonneau, Hal Clement, Compton Crook, Hank Davis, L. Sprague de Camp, Charles V. de Vet, William B. Ellern, Richard H. Eney, T. R. Fehrenbach, R. C. FitzPatrick, Daniel F. Galouye, Raymond Z. Gallun, Robert M. Green Jr., Frances T. Hall, Edmond Hamilton, Robert A. Heinlein, Joe L. Hensley, Paul G. Herkart, Dean C. Ing, Jay Kay Klein, David A. Kyle, R. A. Lafferty, Robert J. Leman, C. C. MacApp, Robert Mason, D. M. Melton, Norman Metcalf, P. Schuyler Miller, Sam Moskowitz, John Myers Myers, Larry Niven, Alan Nourse, Stuart Palmer, Gerald W. Page, Rachel Cosgrove Payes, Lawrence A. Perkins, Jerry E. Pournelle, Joe Poyer, E. Hoffmann Price, George W. Price, Alva Rogers, Fred Saberhagen, George O. Smith, W. E. Sprague, G. Harry Stine (Lee Correy), Dwight V. Swain, Thomas Burnett Swann, Albert Teichner, Theodore L. Thomas, Rena M. Vale, Jack Vance, Harl Vincent, Don Walsh Jr., Robert Moore Williams, Jack Williamson, Rosco E. Wright, Karl Würf.

We oppose the participation of the United States in the war in Vietnam.

Forrest J. Ackerman, Isaac Asimov, Peter S. Beagle, Jerome Bixby, James Blish, Anthony Boucher, Lyle G. Boyd, Ray Bradbury, Jonathan Brand, Stuart J. Byrne, Terry Carr, Carroll J. Clem, Ed M. Clinton, Theodore R. Cogswell, Arthur Jean Cox, Allan Danzig, Jon DeCles, Miriam Allen deFord, Samuel R. Delany, Lester del Rey, Philip K. Dick, Thomas M. Disch, Sonya Dorman, Larry Eisenberg, Harlan Ellison, Carol Emshwiller, Philip José Farmer, David E. Fisher, Ron Goulart, Joseph Green, Jim Harmon, Harry Harrison, H. H. Hollis, J. Hunter Holly, James D. Houston, Edward Jesby, Leo P. Kelley, Daniel Keyes, Virginia Kidd, Damon Knight, Allen Lang, March Laumer, Ursula K. LeGuin, Fritz Leiber, Irwin Lewis, A. M. Lightner, Robert A. W. Lowndes, Katherine MacLean, Barry Malzberg, Robert E. Margroff, Anne Marple, Ardrey Marshall, Bruce McAllister, Judith Merril, Robert P. Mills, Howard L. Morris, Kris Neville, Alexei Panshin, Emil Petaja, J. R. Pierce, Arthur Porges, Mack Reynolds, Gene Roddenberry, Joanna Russ, James Sallis, William Sambrot, Hans Stefan Santesson, J. W. Schutz, Robin Scott, Larry T. Shaw, John Shepley, T. L. Sherred, Robert Silverberg, Henry Slesar, Jerry Sohl, Norman Spinrad, Margaret St. Clair, Jacob Transue, Thurlow Weed, Kate Wilhelm, Richard Wilson, Donald A. Wollheim.