#rye lane market

[blacksapphicguide]

Rye Lane (Movie)

2023 movie | Available on Disney+ and AppleTV Drama, romance

Plot points:

Black heterosexual couple (main)

Falling in love

Trying to win back an ex

Set in Peckham and Brixton, England, UK

No-men in the timeline of the sapphic dynamic

Black, senior lesbian couple (tertiary)

Black sapphic characters:

Janet (Marva Alexander) Tanice (Llewella Gideon)

Connections:

Janet x Tanice (black lesbian)

Sex & Nudity - Moderate

Character's penis is seen on a phone

Kissing

Reference to masturbation

Oral sex (non-explicit)

Numerous photographs of bare butts at an art gallery the walls

Characters urinate next to each other (non-explicit, urine is seen)

Violence & Gore - Mild

Characters fighting in the cubicles at an art gallery

Characters break into someone's house, and are confronted - one was hit in the face

Profanity - Moderate

Use of cunt, shit, fuck, prick, cock, etc.

Use of wanker

Middle fingers gesture

Insulting another character's mother

Alcohol, Drugs & Smoking - Mild

Social drinking

Characters smoke cigarettes

Frightening & Intense Scenes - Mild

Breaking into a character's house

[megumimania]

AOT LONDON BOY HCS PT 2

featuring: reiner, onyankopon, armin

a/n: this is part two of these hcs, part one is here! thanks for tuning in its kinda rushed my bad 😪, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

ARMIN

-armin would be from islington or finchley maybe even south, but I don’t see him living in like bougie areas such as kensington or chelsea or like richmond

- him and eren went to the same primary and secondary together

-armin was literally his get out of jail free card because of his stellar reputation in academics

-he always gets free stuff from the corner shop or the chicken and chip shop

-doesn’t own a car, he either bikes or takes the tube because he cares about the environment and doesn’t want to add onto the extra pollution in london

-his dress sense is very casual like a t shirt, a pair of loose fitted trousers and some trainers but when he cant be bothered he’ll wear a tech fleece

-he has a very good sense of direction, like he knows the fastest routes for anything, like when eren and connie dragged him to carni (if you went this year im saur jealous 😩 but anyways) and it was time to get home armin found a quicker route that got them back pretty fast

-knows all the best secret spots in london for anything! which makes hanging out with him more fun because you experience a new part of london when you’re together

-he isnt a fan of eren’s scamming ways but when eren asks for help he always answers as long as he’s not a part of it

-london men i feel like are terrible with their feelings but armin is the exception, he would be very open with you about his feelings and such

-reads so much, you’ll catch him at hyde park or greenwich park reading till the sun sets

-he smokes cigarettes but he’s trying to cut it out for you

-his playlist would be very diverse since he’s been brought up in a multicultural area, like it would go from bashment, to rnb, drill to pop

-unlike his unserious counterparts *cough cough* eren and connie, he’s very loyal!

ONYANKOPON

-my ghanaian king, shoutout to my ghanaians!!

-he speaks twi so well that people forget he was brought up in the uk

-he would be from peckham or lewisham for suree, he’s deffo been dragged around by his mum round rye lane market on a saturday morning carrying that trolley with him

-he goes to a pentecostal church, he’s always leading youth service and helping out at church events.

-the aunties love him for this because he’s the perfect son that they don’t have and they just love him in general

-ony can cook and im being for real, so you guys never eat out unless ony wants to show you to a new niche restaurant somewhere

-he has snap but doesn’t have a bitmoji because he thinks it’s immature 😕 but eventually he caves and makes one because you ask him too

-hes always promoting his boys stuff whether that be music,

-he deffo went to an all boys secondary and then he went to a mixed sixth form after, he gives me those vibes

-he used to go to the library to link girls after school 😭 he had a big playboy phase but hes calmed down

-he used to be one of those people at stratford westfield trying to sell you magazines before you enter

-hes not stingy with his money, hes always spoiling the people he loves

-he has a bunch of caps and grills that he likes to rotate out weekly, he has great style

-he works in corporate london so its rare that you dont see him outside of a suit and tie but he always makes time for you

-ony is always holding your bag for dear life when you go to bait areas like oxford street or westfields or like the tourist spots because people be getting their shit stolen loool

-he loves late night tesco trips anything that he can do at night i.e late night walks, drives etc

-bossman is always giving him discounts on stuff because ony is loyal customer.

REINER

-look at that man and tell me he wouldnt be from essex tell me!! like thats pure dagenham material right there

-if you search up a typical person from essex, he would come up

-he probably owns those skintight chinos with those ugly polos with the church shoes

-he tries to downplay his accent a bit since sometimes its hard to understand him but when hes upset his accent comes through in full force

-always at spoons or at the club till early hours

-reiner gives me bricklayer vibes so thats what im gonna roll with

-when he comes home from work in summer hes like hot and sweaty but it makes his biceps glow so its kinda sexy idk

-has a bunch of tattoos, most of them are birthdays of family members and a picture of his grandma who passed away

-has a british bulldog called belle, the dog is fucking scary but reiner thinks the world of her and thinks she can do no wrong

-listens to mainly dnb, garage, techno

-downs pints at the pub like it’s nothing, he has a high alcohol tolerance

-proper geezer that’s all i have to say tbh!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Matthew Downhour at The UnPopulist:

Both during the 2024 campaign and in the current debates regarding President-elect Donald Trump’s appointments—particularly for Tulsi Gabbard (director of national intelligence), Pete Hegseth (secretary of defense), and other national security positions—one of the common but rather puzzling insults thrown at Democrats is that they are “warmongers.” This may come as a surprise, given that Joe Biden was the president who finally ended the war in Afghanistan, while Trump famously canceled the nuclear deal with Iran and ordered the assassination of its most important military operative. The key idea behind the notion that Democrats are warmongers—and that Donald Trump, by contrast, is a dove—appears to be that Democrats are prone to starting wars because they are “globalists,” never putting America first and always getting too involved in everyone else’s business. And these Democratic “globalists,” either through idealistic do-goodery or to protect and advance cosmopolitan economic interests, actively look to draw the United States into foreign conflicts.

Certainly, the ostensible danger of overseas trade has often been used—as by Thomas Jefferson and Herbert Hoover—as a justification to limit that trade. But as a characterization of Democrats, it just isn’t accurate. In the U.S. and elsewhere, internal coalitions that denigrate foreign trade have often been the most bellicose. Their coalitions have the least to lose from war, and swearing off free trade makes seizing resources through force more attractive. This means that the incoming “America First” coalition is likely to increase, not decrease, the risk of the U.S. entering into international conflict.

Nationalist Coalitions Provoke International Hostilities

The history surrounding the First World War provides a framework for understanding our current moment. In a 2014 article in International Security, published a century after the war first began, Etel Solingen evaluates the way countries’ internal and external politics interact to create more or less bellicose states. Comparing China with Imperial Germany 100 years earlier, Solingen argues that the primary driver of foreign policy is domestic political coalitions, which tend towards being either more inward-looking or more internationalizing. Inward-looking coalitions prefer autarkic economies that in turn favor local, static elites. This is especially attractive to those who have gained their status and wealth through local dominance of internationally non-competitive economic sectors. Because a modern economy requires a variety of resources, however, this disavowal of free trade means inward-looking coalitions are perhaps misnamed, as they in fact seek opportunities to gain natural resources and control markets outside the borders of the metropole, primarily through imperialism or settler colonialism.

Internationalizing coalitions, by contrast, are made up of “internationalists,” those more dynamic economic and cultural elites for whom global interaction and free trade is an opportunity, not a threat. Internationally competitive industrialists may fall in this category, as do many academics, cultural producers, and others who benefit from free international trade. Though in the U.S., and earlier, the U.K., such figures may see the value in a strong navy to protect sea lanes, they generally are more dovish and find both the taxes needed to run a military and the disruptions caused by warfare to be contrary to their economic and ideological interests. Cosmopolitanism tends to trump nationalism in their hierarchy of values.

An inward-looking coalition dominated Germany in the run-up to 1914 in an arrangement called the “Marriage of Iron and Rye.” Starting in the 1870s, the noble, landowning Junkers demanded protectionist tariffs to guard against cheap American grain, while industrialists sought the same to keep out British manufactured goods. Solingen argues that this preponderance of inward-looking forces reduced the war aversion of the German Empire. This coalition was more prone to brinkmanship than a more internationalizing coalition would have been—the Democratic Party, by contrast, would not lead the U.S. to enter the war until several years after its outbreak. Solingen also notes the importance of Germany’s neighbors in contributing to the outbreak of the war, cataloging how Austria, Serbia, and Russia also were influenced by strong inward-looking coalitions, which also influenced their appetite for brinkmanship and willingness to enter into a war that devastated internationalist interests for decades after.

Solingen concluded that China of 2014 was still dominated by an internationalizing coalition, and that despite rising nationalism, reliance on foreign trade and direct investment meant it was likely to remain conflict-averse. The last 10 years, however, have seen Chinese interests grow increasingly inward-looking, as the country imposes controls on key material exports and seeks greater economic self-sufficiency. Other major rivals of the United States like Russia and Iran have been forced by international sanctions to also adopt an autarkic worldview, leaving primarily “inward looking” (though imperialist) coalitions in charge of those countries. The ingredients for a more dangerous world, in other words, are mixing at precisely the moment the U.S. has itself turned in a similar direction.

[...]

America First Cronyism and Bellicosity

The ideal of self-contained autarky does not mean, as one might suppose, a less interventionist view on the world. Instead, eroding the norms of free trade obligates an advanced economy to have direct access to whatever resources it might need, or else a way to ensure the countries it buys from are perpetually in friendly hands. America’s own history can be something of a guide here—the same presidents (William McKinley, Theodore Roosevelt, and William Howard Taft) who presided over the high tariffs of the Gilded Age also committed the United States to annexing Hawaii, the Philippines, and Puerto Rico, and creating a virtual empire out of most of Latin America. Coalitions that are generally inward-looking are not above having their eyes wander avariciously to foreign soil. Far from facilitating a peaceful transition to “America First” isolationism, a United States traveling this path is likely to be less averse to bellicosity and more willing to risk war, having weakened any internal commercial or civil society coalition that might push back against it. In fact, any pushback, at least from corporate America, is likely to be muted. Under an “America First” regime, firms will have strong incentive to join the inward-looking coalition if they can, much like Prussian industrialists and farmers a century ago. The major economic policy of the Trump campaign was sweeping tariffs on foreign goods. If these tariffs operate to “protect” American industries from competition, history suggests that those industries will become dependent on tariffs for their very viability, causing firms to see trade as a liability, not an opportunity. Commercial interests will be less willing to resist autocratic encroachments because their futures will be dictated largely by the whims of the Trump administration’s tariff policy—as well as any economic aid doled out to industries affected by retaliatory tariffs, as agriculture was during the last Trump administration. Solingen notes that with inward-looking coalitions, “External insecurity and competition offer rationales for extracting societal resources, collecting monopoly rents, creating cartels, rewarding protectionist constituencies, and undermining internationalizing competitors.” By 1914, very few interests remained in continental Europe that could forcefully stand against the road to war; internationalist coalitions had been politically beaten in most states.

Many of these trends are already notable today. For example, the specter of external insecurity was used by the first Trump administration to justify emergency tariffs on steel and other goods, and similarly the Biden administration argued for the strategic necessity of tariffs on electric vehicles and photovoltaic cells. The close connection between Elon Musk and the Trump transition team creates myriad new opportunities to undercut competitors and reward Musk’s own companies, including by the use of foreign policy. For example, Vice President-elect JD Vance’s threat to pull back from NATO commitments if the European Union regulates X in ways the administration disapproves of clearly shows preference for one business over similarly positioned ones, precisely because, with Musk’s promotion of accounts opposing immigration as well as aid to Ukraine, X is a key media player in the broader inward-looking coalition. Other key players may be less flamboyant than Musk but it is safe to assume that they are similarly adjusting their strategies to better survive an inward-looking coalition, and, in so doing, strengthening the coalition itself.

The fascist-elect’s economy-crushing tariffs will lead America to the road to war that no one wants.

[thedailypalm]

    𓇼  COMMUNITY BULLETIN !  𓇼 

see what’s happening around the town of palmview grove from 02/17 - 03/02 ! below the cut are local events that are not mandatory, but may be used for starter ( or reply ) inspiration. threads pertaining to these topics can happen at any time, not only on the day of the event !

FEBRUARY 17 - FEBRUARY 23

FEBRUARY 17: national crab race day @ sunset villa beach ! show off your best crab run at the beach tonight ! winners will receive a $25 cash prize and bragging rights !

FEBRUARY 18: string painting @ heights community center ! want to learn how string can be used to make beautiful artwork ? join us as we create wonderful art with just string and paint. 

FEBRUARY 19: national lash day @ cove wellness center ! if your lashes are in need of a fill, you’re in luck ! refills half off all day & new sets 15% off !

FEBRUARY 20: national cherry pie day @ sunrise cafe ! come indulge yourself in a slice ( or several ) of our famous cherry pie ! each slice will come with a complimentary coffee or tea.

FEBRUARY 21: black director spotlight @ tidepool drive in ! in celebration of black history month, tidepool drive in will show a marathon of movies by black directors. The lineup includes movies such as rye lane (2023), moonlight (2016), creed (2015), nope (2023), love & basketball (2003), and exhibiting forgiveness (2024). 

FEBRUARY 22: national margarita day @ the salty sailor bar ! enjoy happy hour prices on margaritas all day long, frozen or on the rocks ! flavors include traditional lime strawberry, & mango. 

FEBRUARY 23: sunday funday @ lagoon library ! this sunday, we are making a diy pet lizard ! come learn to make your own beaded lizard pet !

FEBRUARY 24 - MARCH 02

FEBRUARY 24: national trading card day @ heights community center ! take a swing by the community center to partake in our celebration of national trading card day ! we’ll be holding trading sessions for both yu-gi-oh and pokemon cards, as well as matches held from 6pm to midnight. 

FEBRUARY 25: junk journaling workshop @ lagoon library ! we will guide you through upcycling materials to create a personalized journal. this program is perfect for those who love to create.

FEBRUARY 26: heartfulness meditation @ cove wellness center ! heartfulness guided relaxation enables a calming and relaxing effect on the body to reduce stress and restlessness. 

FEBRUARY 27: national strawberry day @ seaglass farmer’s market ! celebrate the start of strawberry season and join us for a day of strawberry picking ! baskets will be weighed and priced by the pound. 

FEBRUARY 28: diy flower tealight @ lagoon library ! bloom into spring ! join us in transforming a flameless tealight candle into a stylish home décor.

MARCH 01: jewelry making class @ heights community center ! in this ongoing class, learn beginner-level techniques to make jewelry from various materials such as wire, beads, paper, and more !

MARCH 02: read across america day @ lagoon library ! local authors scheduled for readings from noon to 6 pm, with meet and greets / book signings to follow. bring the kiddos down, as well, for a special interactive story time !

[periwinckles]

Please tell me you have a middle name - chapter 11

“Ok, change of plans, I’m going with you to the Hob tonight.” 

Delly comes barging into the bakery’s kitchen, unannounced, and takes a seat across from me, next to Reese. She’s wearing a dress, and I’m pretty sure that’s not what she was wearing this morning. 

“Why are you prepping for tomorrow, isn’t that Rye’s job?”  She asks, while flattening out her hair with her hands.

“Rye’s at my uncle’s house. Here, I’ll wash that, you’ll be done faster.” Reese takes the dirty mixing bowl from my hands and takes it to the sink.

I‘m supposed to be at the Hob tonight, to check the empty vendor space that’s opening up and have a word with the person in charge. Luckily, I’m almost done and it’s still early enough. Delly takes a look down her dress as if she’s pondering her options, but she ends up taking a drying towel anyway and helping out Reese with the dishes.

“Why exactly are you going with me to the Hob?” I ask her, keeping my eyes focused on my last batch of sourdough.

“If Delly’s going with you, then I’m going, too. I’ve never been to the Hob!” Reese complaints. “I don’t wanna reach adulthood without ever going there!”

“I can’t show up with a whole entourage! Katniss might be there!” 

“We’ll make ourselves scarce!” Delly argues back. “Trust me, I have no intention of hovering around you. How do I look? Too obvious?” 

She’s wearing a dark blue dress with long sleeves, but she has them rolled up to her elbow despite the evening’s dropping temperature. Nice cleavage too, without showing too much skin. Except for her soulmark, of course. That’s on clear display, but who am I to judge? I only put on pants half an hour ago. 

“You’ll be cold.” Reese points out. “Don’t come begging for my jacket to walk back to town, you’re not getting it.”

“I don’t care! Tonight’s my night , I’m feeling it!” Delly claps her hands together, giddy with excitement and Reese and I exchange a look. We’ve been through this at least a dozen times. 

“I’ve asked around.” She goes on, her voice raising with eagerness. “Taylor Banks, 21, miner, plays poker at the Hob every Friday night. Thom Campbell, 20, miner, no family, eats dinner at Greasy Saw’s every night. Two birds with one stone.” 

“How do you even know all of that?” I ask half impressed, half terrified. This morning she didn’t even know Thom Campbell existed. Ten hours later, I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what each of these guys had for breakfast. 

“I told you. I’ve asked around. People like me. And I have a few favors to collect, ever since I started matching soulmates.” 

Between the three of us the final cleaning is done in record time. Everything is clean and put away, the overnight dough is resting, the firewood rack is full and the ovens are ready to be lit tomorrow at dawn. 

When we step outside it’s already dark and the wind is picking up. I’ve never been to the Seam more than a handful of times, and never after dark. Which is why it comes as a surprise when I realize the street lights we usually have in town grow further and further apart the more we get away from it. 

“Don’t get any ideas to come to the Hob by yourself, ok Delly?”

She nods to me in silence. I’m sure she wasn’t anticipating the lane to be so dark and ominous as well. After about twenty minutes or so we see a big building down the road. No street lights around it, but the windows are glowing enough to light the way. There's a big double door open ajar and we step inside. 

It’s as busy as the day market at noon. I take a look around and notice several different vendors. Second hand clothing, knickknacks, cutlery, you name it. Most merchant businesses close before dinner, but here it feels like they are just reaching their rush hour. It makes sense. Miners spend their days holed up in the mines. This is the only time they have to do business. Yes, my initial plan to work at the bakery in the morning and the Hob in the afternoon will go well with the Seam’s routine, as long as I extend my opening hours through diner time.

We wander around as I look for Mr Paxton, the superintendent in charge of vendor booths at the Hob. There are several stands selling food and beverages, and the woman serving stew at the back must be the famous Greasy Sae. 

“I think I wanna try moonshine. Yeah, I’m trying it!” Reese says with a grin, stopping next to a liquor stand.

“I’m not carrying you home drunk.” I tell him, as he takes a gulp and squirms in disgust, throwing the rest away.

There are several men around, and they look at us with suspicion. Three teenage merchants, one of them a girl. We’re hard to miss. To our right is the table holding the Poker game and I signal for Delly to take notice. She brightens instantly once she spots it. 

“Mr Mellark, I was waiting for you!” 

Mr Paxton finds me before I find him and we shake hands. “Right this way!” He says, gesturing for me to follow him. 

“Don’t leave her side.” I whisper to Reese before following Mr Paxton to the free empty spot.

It’s bigger than I expected, but that’s not necessarily bad. The fee is still the same, and I’ll have room to expand if it comes to it. We discuss the terms of the agreement, but it’s mainly just reaffirming what he previously agreed with my Dad. We have access to the space in exchange for a fee, but we need to build the stand, maintain it, and keep the adjoining areas clean.

“I’ll bring the papers to the bakery tomorrow, for you and your father to sign, and you’ll be all set. You can open it as soon as you’re able to.”

I’d open tomorrow, if I could. The last months of school feel like I’m just dragging myself, not really taking anything out of it. We shake hands again and Mr Paxton excuses himself to leave. I take the opportunity to take a few measurements. I’ll have to work after hours to build the stand, as school and the bakery are keeping me busy during the day. But I still reckon I’ll have it ready in a month or so.

“Peeta, hi!” 

The greeting is muffled, as if someone is covering the mouth of the speaker, but I can still hear it. I almost don’t spot them among the crowd, but Prim is kind enough to lift her arm up in a wave.

“Katniss, Prim, hi!”

Prim beams back at me, but Katniss just gives me a nod. Her scowling would be enough to deter a younger and foolish Peeta. This Peeta? This one has a black K on his leg that tells him this isn’t over. 

“Congratulations on your win!” Prim exclaims. “You were awesome at the match! You were my favorite candidate right from the start, you know?”

Read the rest on AO3

[disappointingyet]

Rye Lane

Director Raine Allen-Miller Stars Vivian Oparah, David Jonsson UK 2023 Language English 1hr 22mins Colour

Top-notch romcom that strolls the streets of SE15 and SW9

The test I (probably unfairly) apply to anything filmed somewhere I know well is: does the geography make sense? If, for instance, the characters buy takeaway food and then the next time you see them, they are in the park, is that park somewhere you would logically walk to from the market you were just in?

The Ritzy, innit?

Rye Lane passes that test again and again. For anyone who has spent a lot of time in Peckham and Brixton, there are bountiful moments of familiarity, generally unpunctured by the thought ‘Hang on…’

But we’re here to figure whether this works as a film, not just whether it appeases pedantic locals. The huge pleasing news is yes: it’s extremely funny and fantastically likeable.

It all starts in the non-gendered toilets of a Peckham art gallery, where Dom (David Jonsson) is sobbing and Yas (Vivian Oparah) is trying to have a piss. A few minutes later, they formally meet – he’s a friend of Nathan (Simon Manyonda – getting maximum value from limited screen time), the photographer exhibiting, she’s a mate of Cass, Nathan’s girlfriend (Poppy Allen-Quarmby). Dom and Yas leave at the same time, and at some point, they go from walking in vaguely the same direction to deliberately walking together, and this turns to into a long, and eventually incident-packed day together.

Although much of is shot in real places, the filming style is not realistic. There’s frequent use of fisheye lenses, and there are things such as Dom giving his account of something that happened at a cinema, that being reconstructed for us on screen, and then when we get back to them talking, Yas has a box of movie popcorn in her hand. 

The film has a distinctive look, with lots of bright colours in the costumes and around the place.

Some things I think it’s worth saying about Rye Lane. The first is that this film isn’t here to dismantle the rules of the romcom. It stays within genre lines – but manages to make most of that stuff feel fresh again.

The second is that this is a film with a black director and predominantly black cast that mostly takes place in Peckham and Brixton, two of the flashpoints of the gentrification debate. That’s not a debate this film gets itself involved in. There are absurd white Peckham hipsters on show, but there are also absurd black hipsters too. This is not, repeat not, a criticism of Rye Lane – just a clarification of what it is and what it isn’t. (If that’s the film you are after, try this.) Instead, we get a mixture of young folk having fun with occasional warmly affectionate portraits of family life.

Thirdly, the film is not straining to be a snapshot of the culture right now. It’s not dense with this month’s slang, and the two songs and one album-on-vinyl that get key moments in the film are from the late 1980s and early’90s – ie before the characters were born and thus safely timeless.

I think Rye Lane gets the crucial things right: it’s properly funny, the characters make sense, the sense of place is terrific. It’s good enough to do the transport-related romcom ending without making me too grumpy. I love movies with two people walking around chatting, and this is the best I’ve seen in a long time.  (PS: not sure how it's doing elsewhere, but it's still seems to be in most South London cinemas a month after its release, so the locals are loving it.)

[slutsareteacherstoo]

V-Day WIP - Terry Richmond x OC

I want to finish it cuz the concept is sooo 👩🏿‍🍳💋🤌🏿 and technically if i finish it next its still in the plot timeline. But even if i don’t “in time” like at least i started

Premise: Valentine’s weekend has arrived and you’re excited for what’s to come. But when things don’t go as planned, Terry finds a way to make it up to you

Pairing: Terry x Black!Chronically ill, gender neutral reader

It was 6PM and you’d just gotten out of the shower. Time was of the essence. You and Terry had Valentine’s Day plans and you wanted everything to go well. Well the whole weekend actually. The plan was simple. You guys were going to get takeout from one of your favorite restaurants and go to a drive-in; Terry’s take on dinner and a movie, since the restaurant was always busy this time of year. And also because of your busy schedules, you hadn’t gone to a movie together in forever. The theaters were all booked up too, so why not watch something on the big screen with a guaranteed seat. They were showing Rye Lane, which was DEFINITELY deprived of its big screen debut. Being able to ooh and ahh with other moviegoers playing the sound on their radios and speakers, grab popcorn and funnel cake. Snuggling up with your man watching one of thee best romcoms of our time—Terry’s emphasis that you were definitely in agreement with. They were also having a mini photobooth for you guys to take pictures. You were definitely going to put them up at home. And maybe fit a copy in your wallet, if it fit.

Saturday was for the night market, your contribution to the Valentine’s Day weekend. They were having carnival games to play for prizes. In addition, a variety of vendors selling one thing or another. There were so many vendors that you’d been wanting to try. And thanks to the Universe, they were all in the same place at once. Late lunch, dinner and dessert would be at your fingertips. There was a restaurant that was going to be selling snoballs and beignets, which you hadn’t had in a long time. Just thinking about it had you salivating. You were very serious about your something sweet and apologized to Terry in advance for the person you would become after all that sugar. It’s also why he was driving because as soon as y’all headed home, you were going to crash.

Sunday was just for you two. At home, enjoying each other’s company and calm. Maybe eating some of the weekend’s leftovers for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Appreciating each other, saying it, showing it. Mini painted portraits of each other, playing cards, a board game or two—just simple options. Relaxing massages that would knock you out more than anything for a midday nap, but for Terry would probably lead to other things which is why you always went first! You’d need to save your energy especially after the epic weekend you’d have and the bedroom games you two would play well into the following day. Thank goodness it was a holiday.

The plans were simple enough. You didn’t want to overdo it, stress yourself out too much or exert more energy to not contribute to a flare. But you also didn’t want to underdo it because this was your first Valentine’s together. The weekend affair was also a backup in case you did on one day or another. But they’d still involve things you both wanted to enjoy, and do so together. Not too much pressure for the first time around.

[roomchailimited]

Copenhagen’s Hygge Haven: Denmark’s Design and Comfort Capital

Copenhagen, the enchanting capital of Denmark, is a city where modern design meets old-world charm, and the Danish concept of hygge (coziness and contentment) is a way of life. Whether strolling along the colorful Nyhavn Harbor, cycling through the city’s scenic streets, or indulging in the world-famous Danish pastries, Copenhagen offers an experience that blends culture, comfort, and sustainability. For Bangladeshi travelers, exploring this Nordic gem is now easier with Roomchai Limited, ensuring a seamless and hassle-free trip.

Best Time to Visit Copenhagen

Spring (March–May): Blooming gardens, mild weather, and fewer crowds.

Summer (June–August): Long daylight hours, outdoor festivals, and canal tours.

Autumn (September–November): Cozy cafés, golden foliage, and cultural events.

Winter (December–February): A true hygge experience with Christmas markets and candle-lit cafés.

With travel experts like Roomchai Limited, ShareTrip, and Gozayaan, Bangladeshi tourists can explore Copenhagen with ease.

Exploring Copenhagen’s Iconic Landmarks

Nyhavn: The Picture-Perfect Harbor

The city’s most photographed spot, featuring colorful 17th-century houses and lively restaurants.

Tivoli Gardens: The Fairytale Amusement Park

One of the world’s oldest amusement parks, filled with stunning lights, rides, and live entertainment.

The Little Mermaid: A Symbol of Copenhagen

Inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s famous fairytale, this iconic statue is a must-visit.

Rosenborg Castle & The Crown Jewels

A beautifully preserved Renaissance castle showcasing Denmark’s royal treasures.

Copenhagen’s Modern and Sustainable Side

Christiania: The Free-Spirited District

A unique, self-proclaimed autonomous community filled with street art and alternative culture.

The Bicycle City

Copenhagen is one of the most bike-friendly cities in the world, with dedicated lanes and easy rental options.

The BLOX & Danish Architecture

Home to the Danish Architecture Center, showcasing the city’s innovative urban design.

Danish Cuisine: What to Try in Copenhagen

Smørrebrød: Open-faced rye bread sandwiches topped with fresh ingredients.

Danish Pastries: A must-try for anyone with a sweet tooth.

New Nordic Cuisine: Michelin-starred dining experiences at restaurants like Noma.

Halal and vegetarian-friendly options available, with Roomchai Limited offering guidance.

Shopping in Copenhagen

Strøget: One of Europe’s longest pedestrian shopping streets.

Torvehallerne: A gourmet food market with Danish delicacies.

Illums Bolighus: The go-to place for Scandinavian design and home decor.

Conclusion

Copenhagen is a city that blends tradition, design, and sustainability effortlessly. Whether exploring its royal castles, experiencing its bicycle-friendly culture, or embracing the warmth of hygge, this Danish capital has something for every traveler. With Roomchai Limited ensuring a smooth journey, Bangladeshi travelers can fully enjoy the magic of Copenhagen, while competitors like ShareTrip and Gozayaan provide alternative options.

Let Copenhagen’s charm and coziness embrace you on your next adventure!

[denimbex1986]

'The heads of UK financiers Film4 and BBC Film voiced concern this morning for the future of the indigenous UK film sector, which has seen its market share dwindle in the shadow of big U.S. inward investment and budgets stall at the big UK funding bodies.

Ollie Madden, Director, Film4, and Eva Yates, Director, BBC Film, were interviewed by UK politicians as part of the ongoing British Film & High-End TV Inquiry, which is gathering intelligence from key stakeholders in a bid to boost the sectors.

Yates, whose publicly funded BBC Film has recently backed movies including Aftersun and Rye Lane, told the committee: “I hope we can get to a better place of resilience. We have an incredibly successful inward investment sector, which is vital and valuable. It’s generating a lot of content. At the other end of the industry, there isn’t a lot of funding and a lot of very talented people are leaving the industry. How do we keep British talent here, telling British stories here? There is a break in the pipeline. Looking after that indigenous part of the industry is the biggest thing we hope for in these conversations.”

Madden, whose Film4 is riding high off the back of awards hits Poor Things, The Zone Of Interest and All Of Us Strangers, added: “The huge growth in inward investment, which has been great for the UK in many ways, has had some side effects. One of those is an increase in production costs and a difficulty in getting cinema screens for independent film. When independent films can be made, they can reach big global audiences so we’re really focused on moving barriers to those films being made.”...'

[lo-kom]

Feedback on sound collection so far

In my tutorial Jack suggested that I explore some of the 'extremes' of my project, by widening the parameters a bit and see how this could perhaps change my defintion of a market. This lead me to collect more photos from a wider range of potential market environments and I visited East Street market, Camden market, Borough market and Canary Wharf

Whilst reflecting on my collection so far with Mille I felt having a sound-based collection made it a bit difficult to engage with and I decided that I didn't want my audience to be interacting with my sounds through a screen

After the 2nd Friday workshop I became quite conflicted about how I wanted my audience to interact with my piece, and what the implications might be if I were to make my collection primarily sound-based. Although I did consider uploading my files to an mp3 player, I think I ultimately decided that the context in which my work was going to be shown in a busy (probably noisy) room might make it a bit of a sensory overload, and a bit too overwhelming with a large group of people around you. Furthermore, I think since the concept for the exhibition was already something that requires a lot of focus from the viewer- to view a collection of things that we (as a group of designers) are asking our viewer not just to process individually, but as a part of an assortment of images that form an individual collection, and then not just analysing this collection, but the collection in the context of the 15+ other collections is quite mentally demanding.

Looking back now however, I wonder if I had explored more ways to display audio files whether I could have moved past this reservation. I wish I would have spent a bit more time in this early development phase of my research considering and thinking through potential options rather than shutting things down. In particular I wish I had continued to collect the sounds past 4/5 days as I think it would have built a more intimate portrait of a market particular to Peckham, and could have built a greater sense of the psychogeography of Peckham market- what social role in the local community, what type of customers it attracts and how cultural 'resources'/ infrastructure (ie. certain Afro hair products, or Afro-Caribbean hairdressers and barbers) bring together diaspora communities along Rye Lane etc...

[wool-and-wanderlust]

July 10: The last few days have been cold and wet (50-60F?), but still having a great time, especially when I remembered my waterproof trousers. On Monday, I got to the farm early to help load the sheep to take them to market. Tom and I took about 80 sheep in a trailer pulled by the tractor which took about an hour in both directions. The tractor is newer and has suspension, but the cab was still very bouncy. Almost wished I'd taken motion sickness medicine...! We were one of those vehicles you don't really want to meet when in either direction when driving down a country lane. When we got to the market, there were hundreds of sheep there in small pens that held about 10 sheep each. We guided ours to our assigned pens and then had to sort them by breed and size which involved a lot of opening of gates and chasing down sheep going the wrong way. When we finished that, we went to the auction cafe (think church fellowship hall vibes) which was full of English and Welsh farmers. I was the only woman. Some of them were having tea/coffee, but others were having a full English breakfast. I'm told sometimes at market there's a hairdresser as well so farmers can get their haircut while they wait. :) After having tea, we watched the cattle auction. They sell the animals by British pounds per kilo. I couldn't quite follow the pricing. Those bidding would stand in the very front and to signal their bid would supposedly lift a finger/eyebrow, but I never caught it. It was incredibly subtle. Then we watched some of the prime lambs being sold. They were making about 100 British pounds each, while a lean ewe might be sold for more like 30 or 40. Then we had another cup of tea before making the journey back to the farm in the tractor.

Had lunch when we got back, and then needed to tag some heifers before they were put out to pasture with the bull. We had to name them 3-letter names that begin with R (because they can tell how old the animals are based on the first letter of their name). It was more difficult to come up with them than you might think. We went with Roe, Rox, Rob, Ros, Red, Rae, Red, Rye, and Ria. To tag them, the cows were moved through a chute that doesn't allow them to turn around, and then a contraption braces their head so they can't thrash around while you're trying to tag their ear. But they were standing in a lot of rancid poop water, so every time they did stomp around, we got splashed with that. Tom looked at me and said "you've got shit on your nose." We all did. While all of this was happening, their bull was going crazy in the pen wanting to get at the heifers. We moved them all down to another pasture and left them to it...! By the end of this day, I was drenched.

July 11: First thing when I got to the farm today, Brian, Tom and I took the ATV down to the cow pasture to find a calf that had been born a few dais prior. It needed tagging but we couldn't find it the last few times we went down to look for it. We found it pretty early on this time, but catching it was another story. Brian drove the ATV again while Tom was standing on the passenger side, left hand hanging on to the ATV, right arm outstretched with a hook, trying to catch the calf's leg. I sat in the middle bracing myself between my feet on the floor and my back against the seat and trying not to fall out of the vehicle. Calves can run fast even after a few days, so he was basically flooring it on the ATV doing donuts around the field while Tom tried to catch it. We eventually did, but it took some effort! After all that, it was time for a tea break.

We had beans on toast for lunch, and then headed out in the rain to gather in about 200 more lambs. Biggest thrill of the day was that Brian let me drive the ATV across the fields to gather them. We moved them with the dogs through 3 or 4 different fields to get them back to the barn.

Once back at the barn, the sheep needed to be drenched (given oral medication) for worms. The medication was in a backpack with a long tube with a syringe on the end. One farmer would typically hold the sheep with his legs (harder than it looks to keep them still) and use two fingers to force their mouth open, and use the other hand to administer the medicine. But Tom was kind enough to let me help out, so he held the sheep while I administered the medication. I wasn't the best at it...he kept saying these sheep have never been treated so nicely, but I don't think that was a compliment because the medicine wasn't always going all the way down their throat. I had to redo quite a few of them. It was pouring with rain the whole time. I love rain, and being under a barn while it's raining is the best feeling. When we finished, we moved sheep back down the road to the fields. Beautiful here, even in the rain :)

[sronti]

Melyik részén leszel Londonnak, mit szoktál csinálni városi túrákon?

Mert szerintem érdemes kimenni a szokásos Camden-Westminster-Chelsea háromszögből, de attól függően merre van a szállásod, más irányt mondok. Például Peckham, Brixton, vagy Dalston közül az egyikben csavarognék egyet. Ha Peckham, akkor nézd meg előtte a Rye Lane-t, ha Dalston, akkor a Top Boyt és utána érdemes körülnézni a Ridley road piacon. Bethnal Green is érdekes, a Brick lane nekem egy kicsit túl turistás, de azért nem rossz.

Mindenképp bérelnék biciklit és mennék a folyóparton, a Victoria Enbankment (az mindenkép útba esik, vagy a Woolwich-Erith vonalon, bár utóbbi esetén kicsit indusztriális lesz egy idő után, azt pedig nem mindenki szereti. Hétvégén nem jár a komp(?!?), ha északon vagy, de a folyó alatt az aluljáró is érdekes.

Kew Garden, ha még nem voltál, össze lehet kötni a Richmond parkkal.

Barbican. Mondjuk Bécs után nem biztos, hogy akkora szám, de én nagyon szeretek a kis mesterséges tó partján ülni ott és elképzelni, hogy vége a világnak és csak az a kis elszigetelt lakótelep maradt.

Egyél vegan junk food-ot a Temple of Seitanban Camdenben vagy Hackneyban. De amúgy is sok jó vegán hely van, talán kelet-afrikai, indiai vegán helyből Bécsben kevesebb van. Ha szereted a jó kávét, akkor a kelet-londoni hipster kávé szívcsakrája a Dark Arts Coffee Homertonban.

A Magnificent Seven hozzád legközelebbi temetője is jó lesz. Van mindenfelé, a Highgate az egyetlen ami belépős, viszont a többinek van igazán gót hangulata. Olyan ott lenni nekem, mintha a tizenéves gót és a középkorú természetbarát énem végre kibékülne egymással.

Ha keleten vagy, akkor a Hackney és Tottenham Marshes is nagyon jó, főleg bringával, de gyalog is, ahogy a Victoria park is. A kisebb fele a dekoratívabb.

Valami hétvégi piac, attól függően, hogy hol vagy. Broadway market, vagy a Chatsworth, ha keleten vagy.

Augusztusban lesz néhány napom egyedül Londonban, merre menjek, mit csináljak?

[galina]

Hi! I'm going to be in London visiting family at the end of June for a week and was wondering if you had any cool recommendations (museums, bookstores, etc.) I've already seen all the main parts of London like Buckingham Palace and Big Ben and the London Eye, but I want to see if I can find any cool hidden gems :)

hi, hello, hi -- london is soooo massive there's no end to the things to see... these aren't hidden gems but they're a bit different from central, the west end and all that, a bit more like places where people who live in london go

columbia road flower market

broadway market

brick lane

peckham rye lane

brixton village

borough market

galleries

peer

maureen paley

whitechapel gallery

raven row

south london gallery

across these spots you will find fab cafes, food and bookshops like brick lane books, libreria books, books peckham, bookmongers, round table books and so on.

[insult-2-injury]

Take a Seat-  Chapter 1

After a skirmish up top, your failing shop falls under the watchful gaze of the Eye of Zaun. And his blue-haired gremlin daughter.

Silco x Fem!Reader | Total WC: 34k | Eventual Smut | Slow Burn | Romance | Angst |

AO3 Link

Next chap

"The past is never where you think you left it" -Katherine Anne Porter

The first step into Piltover was always a tad violent on the senses. The sun felt particularly offensive today, its rays clashing furiously with the Undercity smog that battled its way upward, thinning alongside you as the elevator made its ascent, hidden mechanics whirring as you came to a shuddering stop.

You raised your palm to preemptively block out the full brunt of the light as the latticework doors hissed open, proudly revealing the golden child of the two conjoined cities, disgustingly picturesque.

A familiar sense of world weariness nestled into the slopes of your shoulders as you stepped out, squinting toward the towering spires of the new hex gates. You felt out of place here, like a fish out of water. Or, more accurately, a fish who had sprouted two human legs and sauntered its way up and out of the swamp.

You pressed the thin fabric of your scarf to your face as you walked, ghostlike, across the bridge, inhaling a few deep breaths to acclimatize to the change. Even the air here was richer than you.

Loathe to admit, you’d actually taken time on your outfit today, throwing on your favorite dress, a green, watermelon striped piece. You'd even thrown the mirror finger guns before you'd left your place.

But of course, the moment you set foot on the outskirts of the bustling city, you understood why your attempt at fashionable disguise was unfruitful. Because topsiders knew the highly specific likes of their own people, and they could catch onto the stench of a foreign invader in seconds flat.

They sniffed the air like prairie dogs, scattering as politely as they could manage as you strolled through the active marketplace. You couldn’t fault them at all, really- it wasn’t as if a lamb-faced Piltovan could exactly blend in downstairs.

The off-white marble fountain loomed ahead as you turned a corner, wiping the beading sweat off your brows. You were looking around for a place to sit when an orange flash of movement nearby caught your attention.

A young, scrawny boy with shockingly red hair was combing through the food stalls of the farmer’s market nearby. His eyes were glazed over with a kind of hunger that you recognized well enough, the kind that made you impatient.

You recognized him from the Lanes; him and his friends took no small joy in terrorizing the local shopkeepers with ridiculously explicit graffiti. You’d never been able to bring yourself to frown on it, as it was somewhat of a comfort discovering another well-placed, comedically spray-painted pair of boobs hidden around the Lanes. A sign that things hadn’t changed while you weren’t paying attention.

The redhead stood out like a sore thumb in Piltover’s golden-rayed streets. Passersby watched him roving about, wary, as if he was a stumbling, undomesticated dog, growling and foaming at the mouth.

And he did look feral, but in the way that only a fellow child of Zaun could understand.

You slid your satchel onto your hip, heading toward him. You purchased an absurdly expensive loaf of rye and a small block of cheese, having learned long ago that flashing any form of money on the streets of Piltover was one way to put suspicious onlookers at ease, as if adorning yourself in cash made you ethical, less likely to steal.

Oh, thank heavens, they thought, you had money. You weren’t one of those people.

Conversely, if you flashed your coin around the Lanes, you were almost guaranteed to be humbled in a host of different ways if you couldn’t defend yourself. You’d be down cash and your shoes, too, if they looked expensive enough.

“I can spot you a mile away with that hair,” you said, walking toward the kid. “Hope you don’t think you’re being stealthy.”

The kid recognized you, shooting you a glare as you placed the offering beside him. “Least I’m not dressed like some wannabe Piltie.”

You pursed your lips and looked down at your dress. “I deserve that.” Reaching into your satchel that was about a thread away from unraveling entirely, you took out a sheathed knife and placed it into his open palm.

“For the cheese. Or whatever else you’ll use it for. Carving more tits into the walls.”

He examined it closely. “Looks sharp as fuck.”

It took the bothered gaze of multiple passersby to realize that your uncivil discourse had created a ripple of disturbance throughout the peaceful fountain area as a Piltovan child was sullied by their first F-bomb. You, a grown adult, threw another one out for good measure, if only to be on the receiving end of one more glare.

“It is sharp as fuck. What do you think I make, butter knives?”

“Would be more useful right about now.”

It was a brief comfort for both of you, you thought, to find reprieve in the churlish language that only someone from the Undercity could understand. It was the kind of harsh, disrespectful speech that probably simulated something like nails on a chalkboard to a mild-mannered Piltovan. You scanned the fountain area.

“Just wear a hat next time. Cover that hair.”

“Wear some make-up.”

You locked gazes with a familiar face across the way. A warm hand wrapped its fingers around your heart as you abandoned the redhead mid-insult and walked toward your brother.

“Stef,” you said, keeping your voice purposefully flat.

When he spoke your name in return, an aching affection bubbled in your chest, even as you took note of how stale the word sounded falling from his lips. He placed an awkward palm on your shoulder and squeezed, but said nothing else, beckoning you with a tilt of his head. An ancient bitterness ignited in your belly at his lack of affection. He’d never been warm, even when you were kids. You stewed quietly as you fell in step behind him, following him toward the pretentious fountain splashing softly in the heart of the marketplace.

Stefan looked at you with his bright eyes, the same color as yours. His floppy, chestnut hair that he'd started to grow out. His dimpled chin with the scar from when the front wheel had fallen off his bike as you’d both ridden down an unpaved road. He had spared you of any injury, wrapping you in his arms to soften the blow. You blinked away a swell of sadness.

He sat down on the thick, marble lip of the fountain and you perched yourself a safe distance away, criss-crossing your legs and pretending to study your nails, as if being in the presence of your elegantly dressed, Piltovan brother didn’t unsettle you in every possible way.

When you’d been summoned to meet Stefan, you had immediately begun the mental groundwork necessary to keep your emotions subdued. The past could hold no power up top, you promised yourself. Your memories together were nothing but distant drops of water. But they weren’t. They cascaded across your mind like a river carving out a canyon.

“You making knives for kids now?”

Your head turned to where the redhead had ditched the knife in place of his own hands, tearing into the loaf of bread with a vengeance.

“Eh, what’s the worst he could do with it?”

“Plenty.”

Your eye twitched.

“Tell me about the Lanes, anything new?"

Irritation cracked through you like a whip.

“Why not take a little outing? And see it for yourself. Instead of sending some shady Piltie suit.”

You were referring to the lavishly dressed man with impeccable posture that your brother had sent to your door as a physical invitation two nights before. Talk about standing out. You’d be surprised if he hadn’t gotten his ass kicked on the way out of Zaun.

Stefan clenched his jaw and despite your vow to remain unfeeling, you found your voice softening with an old devotion.

“It’s the same, Stef, just more shimmer.”

You brought him up to date on your business, about how recent clientele had boosted your profits exponentially. How because of that you were upgrading the tiny stall you’d rented out in the Boundary Markets. You glossed a bit over just who it was you were selling to. Besides, he was smart enough to figure out that the people who were looking for the kinds of weapons you crafted were probably not looking to use them for soap carving.

Stefan, in turn, updated you. He worked in the council building and shared that they were in the works of planning a celebration for the opening of the hex gates. He hardly responded when you mentioned just how screwed up it was that instead of using a fraction of that money for Undercity reparations, from the devastation topside had wreaked years ago, they were pouring it into an event they were branding the most expensive party of the year.

All in all, it seemed his hierarchy of needs was being met, while you struggled to scrape by. Of course, you weren’t surprised by this in the least.

He sat for a long moment after he finished, clearly mulling something over before running fingers through his hair. “You know, the City of Progress is progressing.”

You arched an eyebrow at his astute observation, biting your tongue. He’d never responded well to teasing.

“And we grow stronger yet.” He saw the way your body stiffened at the word ‘We’. “The Lanes haven’t. Progressed.”

You'd only risen to the surface a handful of times to catch up with him since he'd left the Undercity, but every time you did, you lost further touch with who he was now. He spoke differently, his cadence unnatural, like a child trying to fit into a suit he hadn't quite grown into yet.

“Oh, please do continue.”

He placed his head in his hand, sighing at your barbed words.

"If things were ever to come to a head again, it could get ugly. I just want to make sure..."

"Spit it out."

You knew full well what he was trying to get at. With the rapidly growing wealth disparity, and especially with the opening of the gates, tensions had risen exponentially. And the two cities had certainly not been frictionless before. Aside from that, whatever sort of science was behind the hex gates… well, you could only assume that whatever further experimentations were going on up top came at no benefit to those below.

What he was trying to say was if the Undercity tried to rise again, it would get its shit rocked.

"I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine."

Stefan paused, weighing his next words.

“I know you well enough to know you're probably not associating with the right sorts of people.”

You hummed, unable to form words through the melancholic bitterness that had started to form a nasty, bubbling potion in your stomach, increasing slowly towards a boil.

“I'm afraid that after-" He searched for the right words. "I'm afraid that after... what happened... you’ve become disillusioned. Resentful. I just... I shouldn’t have left you down there so long.” As if you were the last spoonful burning at the bottom of his soup pot, curdling and left to wither. What on Earth did he think you did all day, sit by the door and wait for his return? You stared at him incredulously. “I just don’t want you to be in the crosshairs when we-"

You boiled over.

“I’m sorry, who’s we?”

When Stefan was younger, he’d always had a hero complex and the ego to boot- it was what had pushed away the other children at the orphanage. In a game of make-believe, he'd always had to be the savior, and since no other kids would tolerate his big-headedness, you'd always felt the sisterly obligation to play into his imagination. You'd been a great subject and he'd always stayed true, sheltering you from every storm you would walk willfully into the shadows of.

He had needed you and you had needed him.

So, shooting him off his high horse after all these years felt a little treasonous.

"How’s the council stuff going? You said you, what, water the lobby plants?”

“I’m an administrative assistant."

“That's a fancy word for secretary, Stef. You’re a secretary.” Stefan’s knuckles were white as they gripped the lip of the fountain. “You have a lower security clearance level than a janitor, so keep your mouth shut about the Undercity. At least I provide for the cause.”

You could almost see your brother's head inflating to protect his pride as he bored holes into the cobblestone at his feet. He nodded, as if something had just clicked into place.

“Guess that answers my next question. About whether or not you’ve progressed.”

"And how do you suppose I progress? I'm barely staying afloat as it is-"

"Then let me help you."

"I don't want your help."

"Why, because I'm an evil topsider now?"

"No, because I only accept help from the right sorts of people."

You were being childish, and you knew it full well, but you were burning, the gentle affection you’d felt earlier sprouting thorns that raked down your insides.

Progress. The two of you had entirely different ideas of its definition, you realized. Stefan, he hadn't just moved on, he'd crushed any semblance of his former life in the Undercity. And with that, he'd crushed any realistic idea of who you were.

And you? The past beat in you like a second heart. You cloaked yourself in it, sheltered and basked in its savagery. Looking at your brother with fresh eyes, you thought that perhaps ignorance really was bliss.

"And who's that? Whatever misfit band of criminals walks by next?"

"So, everyone in the Undercity is a criminal now? What about you, you think you're somehow excluded in this?"

"Fine then, stay in the past with your friends."

As if the fountain was suddenly a hot skillet under your touch, you leapt up, hair whipping across your face as a sudden breeze seemed to couple with your wild emotions.

The moment suspended in time, the cruelty of his words beginning to tingle across your scalp, setting in, as if someone had just cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was spilling down your temples.

“You…” Your face contorts.

To his credit, he did have the decency to look a little sorry.

“I just want to protect-"

“Few years too late,” you interrupted, “For that.” You took a step forward. “Hope you can swim.”

With one swift motion, you shoved your brother into the fountain and reveled in the way that he yelped in surprise, hands grabbed wildly at thin air before he toppled over with a satisfying splash. Loud gasps echoed around the open space as he plunged in.                                    

In your head, you’d slain a monster when all you’d realistically done was gather enough courage to push a grown man into a shallow pool. But you took the small victory and ran with it as you watched him struggle to slide his entire body in to be able to stand up.

You jeered at those rushing forward to help. What a scandal.

Your smile dropped as you saw an enforcer among them, charging toward not you, but the redhead at the food stands, who had apparently used the hell out of your small distraction. With how quickly he was foraging through different stalls, he was sure to open his pockets later to an incredibly diverse array of food groups.

“Look out!” You shouted and just like that, you entered yourself as a player in the game. A second enforcer locked eyes with you. Must have been a slow day at work. Or maybe being from the Undercity was cause enough for arrest. Didn’t matter because in a split second, you were running toward the kid, an enforcer hot on your heels.

You may as well have been waving a knife and shouting death threats, the way people dove out of your way as if their very lives were at stake.

“Fucking Run!”

The kid’s eyes were glistening with possibility as he hesitated, wanting more. Needing more. You remembered that cockiness, the way you’d felt invincible when you’d pushed the limits, just barely making it out of a scrape. But as the kid had concerned himself, in his hunger, with the proportion of bread to pocket size, he’d forgotten something crucial: the current ratio of Zaunite to Piltovan.

A bulky shopkeeper lunged and grabbed the boy by the shirt from behind, a comical number of fruits falling out of his pockets as he was yanked forward and grappled.

You growled. Shit. You weren’t about to leave the poor, idiot kid to a mob of topsiders. In the moments it took to cross the 20-foot distance, you weighed your options. Damage to property was most certainly a lesser charge than damage to person, so you targeted the legs of the table instead of the pudgy, veiny legs of the man who held the redhead by the scruff of his neck.

The wooden stilts caved in like toothpicks as you used your momentum to perform a sweeping kick that had the table careening in on itself as you flew past. You spared a glance backward, nearly letting out a whoop at the small burst of adrenaline in your chest when you saw the young boy following in your steps.

Recalling your original purpose, your head whipped over to the fountain and you stumbled slightly. Your brother had always been easy for you to read. It was a sibling thing, sure, but when you were younger, others found his mannerisms odd, cryptic. You'd always been able to navigate his sensitivities, knowing when you’d crossed the delicate line, calming him from his verbal tirades. All because you could just… read him. But in that single second of eye contact, you’d come to a sobering realization that you didn’t know this Stefan, this Piltovan flesh suit of your older brother. And that you actually had no idea where you stood.

You were utter strangers.

The two of you sprinted out of the sunny marketplace and down the stairs, narrowly avoiding attempts of capture by the two enforcers following. It was a bit shameful really, how easily you dodged their flying restraints, like it was a traveling game of Double Dutch.

You should’ve been concerning yourself with the consequences, perhaps. Admonishing the redhead boy who ran a half step behind you for never learning how to shoplift. But you were abnormally quiet. Because your brothers’ golden eyes, blank as a slate, burned behind your own.

The two of you held your gasping breaths until the elevator descended downward, as if a misplaced exhale of air would alert enforcers of your location. The skinny boy was silent, his pride wounded, having been held in the air like a squirming puppy not even five minutes ago. You said nothing, figuring the humiliation was enough.

“Thanks.”

Surprised, you looked over to where he was clearly avoiding eye contact. You muttered, “Don’t mention it.”

He nodded, the movement jostling a single, teetering apple out of his side pants pocket and resolutely, you did not laugh as he bent to pick it up. Instead, you found yourself thinking about the alliterative Piltover headlines the next day. ‘Marketplace Massacre’. Or ‘Terrorist Takeover’. And draw them in with a simple hook: “Have Poor People Gone Too Far?’

The elevator came to a shuddering stop, releasing steam as the doors opened to your city, welcoming in a stench you hadn’t known you’d missed. You inhaled deeply, as if you had been deprived of oxygen your entire time up top.

You settled your face into a steady glare, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. As jarring as the entrance back into the green glow of the Undercity was, it was vital to not show it on your face. Opportunists stalked, you knew, in the shadows nearby, eyeing those who stepped foot in the city for any chinks in their armor.

You ignored the typical scammers as you walked, those who waited just outside the elevator, ready to sell you ‘the very newest gadgets’ from the City of Progress. It was something you really should fall for only once, and it was dumb even the first time, so the fact that they kept making coin was absolutely mind-boggling.

The redhead took off for home, you assumed, leaving a trail of literal breadcrumbs.

You walked through the heart of the city, figuring you had no reason to worry about heading home. With the harsh changes under Silco’s rule, enforcers hardly ever set foot in the Undercity, only occasionally being spotted around the Last Drop. And well, you could only assume they were pressed under the same thumb.

Besides soothing their wounded prides, Piltover wouldn’t waste resources to go after a young boy who snatched some bread and the likelihood they’d put out a search on a crazed woman who smashed some guy’s fruit stand was slim. They’d shake their fists at the city below as they always did, beefing up security around the marketplace for a short time.

Even so, you were extra aware of your surroundings as you walked back to your home on the outskirts of Zaun, keeping to the shadows.

The routine nightmares were held at bay that night, but only because in their place came the haunting words of your only brother. Curling in on yourself, you drifted into a fitful sleep.

                                  _______________________

You got to work early the following morning, despite feeling exhausted. The hours lost to your brother yesterday had been wasted time, and with your increase in clientele, you actually felt a sense of excitement that had spurred on a surge of creativity.  

You were confident that you’d managed to slide through the cracks as the next day dragged on in your lonely little riverside workshop. You were confident enough that you lost yourself in your work, no longer peering out the windows nervously for prowling enforcers. But it wasn’t an enforcer that had you nearly amputating yourself with a hacksaw as you startled. No, whoever it was quite literally caved your door in with a single knock.

You leapt up, scrambling for your dagger.

“I have a knife!” The intended threat came out more like a general statement and you would have winced if you weren’t so strung out on a sudden adrenaline.

A grunt in response.

You clutched the handle of your weapon and pointed it at the doorway. “Who are you?”

A pause. Then a gruff voice.

“Running errands.”

“For who?”

The man didn’t mince his next words at all, which in any other circumstance, you could appreciate. But at the time, you felt he could’ve done more to soften the blow.

“Silco.”

A bucket of ice water down your back would have been less shocking.

<3 <3 <3

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[nwbeerguide]

Winner of four double Gold medals, at this year’s 2022 San Francisco World Spirits Competition, Nashville Barrel Company reacts to this unique recognition.

Press Release

NASHVILLE, TN: Nashville Barrel Company, was announced as double gold medal winners at the 2022 San Francisco World Spirits Competition. This prestigious award was won by four of their products. Winning four double gold medals is jaw dropping. This is the second year in a row for Nashville Barrel Company’s Rye to take home double gold, now accompanied by the rest of their lineup.

The company is causing waves in the industry by doing it all their way; not your average distillery, no made-up story, no long-lost recipe just the best barrels at the best values that the company can offer. While gaining a loyalist following that many brands take years to achieve. Their passion is not to obtain awards, but the accolades assist in benchmarking their success.

Since launching the brand in 2020, there have been considerable wins beginning with the brand’s back-to-back wins at the San Francisco World Spirits Competition. The launch of two new products including Cask Strength Batched Bourbon & Cask Strength Batched Rye. While expanding their distribution reach into fifteen states.

These new expressions helped their six-person in-house sales team and external partners catapult the brand onto shelves with some of the leading names in bourbon and whiskey. The awards and accolades have led to national coverage and put the company on the radar with other up and coming craft brands.

“In an ultra-competitive market where, good whiskey is hard to find, we are picking good barrels and at the best value that we can offer,” said Mike Hinds, Nashville Barrel Company’s CEO & Founder.

For more information on Nashville Barrel Company’s products and services, visit nashvillebarrelco.com. ... 

About Nashville Barrel Offerings: Nashville Barrel Company is offered in five core expressions Single Barrel Rye Whiskey, Single Barrel Bourbon, Single Barrel Rum, Cask Strength Small Batch Bourbon, Cask Strength Small Batch Rye. As well as numerous limited-edition releases. Follow Nashville Barrel Company on Instagram (@NashvilleBarrelCo).

About Nashville Barrel Company: Nashville Barrel Company is in the heart of Nashville and just miles off Broadway. Fesslers lane is home to the brands founders Mike Hinds and James Davenport who were united by bourbon. Their team is quickly growing under the mindful leadership of “The Boss” Stella, President & HR, who also happens to be a 1-year-old miniature goldendoodle. Nashville Barrel Company has a core focus on the people, listening to what they want, by the people for the people. The passion and love for bourbon and sharing it with friends is the driving force behind the brand. Nashville Barrel Company is currently distributed in Arkansas, California, Connecticut, Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Indiana, Maryland, New York, Kentucky, Tennessee, Texas, and Washington. For more information visit nashvillebarrelco.com.

[dulwichdiverter]

Smokin’ hot

BY HELEN GRAVES

Anyone who knows Peckham will be familiar with the eye-catching boxes of scotch bonnet chillies sold by every grocer on Rye Lane and the high street. An essential ingredient in many West African and Caribbean dishes, they’re sold by the handful and adored for their fruity fragrance and addictive but not-to-be-messed-with heat.

Ben Farey – a local hot sauce producer based just down the road in East Dulwich, near Peckham Rye – began his own love affair with them after moving to south London 20 years ago.

“I moved to Brixton in 2000 and just became intoxicated by the food that was available; produce like the Ghanaian land snails, huge green avocados and these fantastic, burning hot chillies,” he explains.

It wasn’t until more recently however that he began to see an opportunity to create a new sauce – one that was more to his taste than those already on the market.

“A few years ago I was given a book on fermenting by Sandor Katz and although I’ve always been interested in fermentation, I began to think it was time that I did something about that interest,” he says. “A lot of people don’t really understand fermentation very well but it’s an incredible process.”

Currently very much in vogue, the use of fermentation to produce food and drink dates back thousands of years. Microorganisms like yeast and bacteria present in the environment around us are harnessed to break down substances, resulting in wonderful products we’ve come to know and love such as beer, kimchi, yoghurt and in Ben’s case – chilli sauce.

“I’ve always been in love with anything spicy and hot,” he says, “and I’ve always had a bottle of Encona [a widely available brand] in the cupboard for emergencies.

“The hot sauces that are out there, I find a bit thick and sweet sometimes and I just love the tang you get from fermented sauces, which is really quite appealing. I decided I’d make something that would epitomise my life in London.”

Ben began to ferment the scotch bonnets for two to three months at a time. “After that they are put through a mill to extract the seeds, then vinegar gets added and the whole thing gets churned for a number of weeks,” he says.

Churned? Like butter? “Yeah, I built myself a mixing device,which churns the sauce constantly for weeks at a time. It means the sauce is totally natural and you don’t need any artificial stabilisers as the vinegar breaks down the chilli and the sauce doesn’t separate in the bottle. So it’s just salt, cider vinegar and chillies.”

Ben also adds another important flavour profile to the hot sauce however, which is smoke: “The fermented chillies are scotch bonnets but we also add some smoked chillies, which are jalapeños. I built a smoker from two old filing cabinets I found locally and I started smoking butter and eggs.”

His backyard antics didn’t last long before he ran into problems though. “The neighbours started to complain a bit about the smoke,” he says, which meant moving his proto-production site elsewhere. “I shipped one of the filing cabinets to my dad’s house where people are less likely to complain.”

Unlike many hot sauce start-ups, Ben is only making one product, rather than a range of sauces with different heat levels and flavours added. “I’ve just been trying to improve upon this one sauce and now I’m really happy with it,” he explains.

He’s right to be pleased with himself. The sauce really does stand out with its searing heat and complexity of flavour. And what does he suggest we eat it with? “I absolutely love it on eggs – shakshuka, anything like that. I also particularly like it on shellfish, but also steak, pasta… anything to be honest with you.”

The sauce costs £3.50 for a 100ml bottle, and is available to buy on the website and in a few shops. His current sauce – called Batch 2 – is stocked locally at William Rose butchers on Lordship Lane.

“We’re going to carry on expanding from here, really,” Ben says. “We’re just about to start approaching new stockists. If you’re going to put something in a shop then you need to get your nutritional label sorted out, so we’ve had our label redesigned.

“The guy who does our branding is called James Ingram and he’s done a lot for local companies [including Brockley Brewery]. So that’s the next step really, to see which other local stockists might be interested.”

It’s been a journey of trial and error to get to this point, Ben says. “I started three years ago, and it’s been quite a long process because you’ve got to find the right bits of kit, you have to test things out.”

This means it’s taken him a while to start spreading the word. “I did a hot sauce festival in April down in Peckham, called Hot Sauce Society and our Batch One sauce sold out.

“Now we’re selling out of Batch Two but we are taking it pretty slowly, for various reasons. I’ve just had a new baby too, so it hasn’t moved as fast as perhaps it could’ve done!

“We’re probably making around 500 bottles a month but we could go a bit bigger. I’ve just taken on a bit of extra space in the arches in Loughborough Junction. Chilli sauce and small children don’t really mix very well and when you’re smoking chillies and fermenting and trying to bottle stuff it’s an absolute nightmare to have children around.

“I think we could increase production quite dramatically without too much difficulty but we’ll see. I’m just happy to make a sauce that’s well received locally and it has been. People seem to really like it.”

Photo by Paul Stafford