#the welters library

[blessyourhondahurley]

No Good Deed Unpunished

Sam decides to help Dean and Cas get their heads out of their asses. He pays the price.

Suptober prompt: Digital Flufftober prompt: Thick as Thieves Fictober prompt: “That was not my intention.” Inktober prompt: Bat

(Read on AO3)

“Perhaps you could just... Put it in some rice for a few days? I've seen on the internet where that can repair damaged electronics.” Cas was clearly contrite, and Sam appreciated his attempt to help, but...

“No amount of rice is going to fix this thing,” Sam lamented as he watched his iPad leak fat drops of cheap red wine onto the floor.

~~~~~

It was a simple plan, a good plan. Fed up with watching his brother and his brother's angel bat their eyes at each other, the UST so thick that it was hard to breathe sometimes, Sam had pulled Cas aside one afternoon and laid it all out:

“Look, man, you love Dean and Dean loves you. Neither of you has got the balls to make the first move, and I'm tired of waiting for that to change. How can we make this happen?”

It took most of an hour to argue Cas out of his self-loathing, self-effacing, self-denying mindset and bring him around to Sam's point of view. They spent the next hour hashing out increasingly elaborate and impractical plans to drag Dean onto the same page. Eventually, Sam had had enough.

“Okay, whoa, time out, time out. We're thinking about this all wrong. Let's keep it simple. We'll go with the classics.”

They'd sent Dean out with a list of petty errands that they claimed were urgent. While he was out, the two of them had hit the storerooms, digging up a linen tablecloth, a set of nice china, and some silver candlesticks. Sam had laid everything out on the library table, and downloaded a playlist of classic rock love songs onto his iPad for ambience. Meanwhile, Cas had run out for Dean's favorite burgers and a pie from the bakery downtown. On a romantic whim, he'd picked up a bottle of wine to accompany. They'd barely gotten everything set up when they'd heard the distinctive growl of the Impala pulling into the garage. Sam had made himself scarce, leaving Cas and Dean to their intimate meal, hopefully with a side of mutual confession and making out.

It was a good plan, and it had worked, as far as he could tell. Surveying Cas's well-tousled hair and rumpled shirt, and the fresh love bites on Dean's neck, he'd say the plan had worked. But there was collateral damage. Several pieces of the china had fallen (or been knocked) off the table and shattered. The tablecloth was rumpled, and soaked with a massive puddle of red wine. Smack in the center of the puddle, his poor iPad was on its way to digital Doggy Heaven.

Sam's emotions were a welter. Pride for his successful scheming warred with elation for his brother clashed with despair for his ruined tablet. Cas looked to be in a similar state. His cheeks were flushed from the wine and the euphoria of a love newly (and finally) requited, but his eyes welled with regretful tears.

“I am so sorry for the damage, Sam,” he said, wringing his hands, apologetic. “You must know that was not my intention. You were so helpful in setting this up for us, and to repay you in this manner...”

“Wait a minute,” Dean interjected. “You helped him set this up? This is why the two of you were thick as thieves all afternoon? Did– Sam, did you put him up to this?”

Dean's expression rapidly morphed from love-drunk to played. Sam started to panic, stunned and angry that this could all still go off the rails if Dean's self-doubt had its way.

“Dean, no, we–” he began, desperately hoping to head off his brother's impending doom spiral.

Cas got there first.

“Beloved,” he murmured, putting a hand on Dean's cheek. “Sam did help me to understand that this was possible, and assist me in setting up this meal, but my love for you is no one's idea but my own. Perhaps we could go to our room and... discuss this more deeply?"

At that, Dean calmed. He grinned. He grabbed Cas's free hand and tugged, growling “Our room, sunshine? I like the sound of that. Yeah, let's have a deep discussion.”

As his brother dragged his angel down the hall, he turned to call over his shoulder, “We'll buy you a new iPad, Sammy. Just... Tomorrow. Or maybe the day after, I dunno. Hey, you still got those noise-canceling headphones?”

Sam sighed and dashed down the hall. He needed to find those headphones immediately.

#suptober22 #flufftober2022 #fictober22 #destiel #destiel fluff #day 03 #supernatural

[delightfulvoidstudent]

ONE MOLECULE OF MERCY

CW: some HW spoilers and a bit of jiggery with time since certain models weren't actually out at the time.

Many, many thanks to the incredible Terry Pratchett for the idea of sieving a molecule of mercy out of the universe (Death, Hogfather, worth a read, the whole book, truly)

The snow seeped into her boots, cold, biting at her ankles, wet and stabbing for a moment. Little icicles of not penance. Penance was for debts that could be repaid. Some things couldn’t be; if she could even have gotten any of those left behind to admit to the debt itself. A few yalms more, kneeling, watching the slow rise of mist over the city, the snow seeping now into the knees of her long pants. Her fingertips rested on the frigid edge of battered steel, another point of contact with this wild landscape just outside the high stone walls and yet so far away, above and beyond. More cold, more alien, lost in the keening wind and dizzying altitude, a path you had to know to walk, beyond comfort, numb, almost lost, and under it all, memories, ice under the snow, crisp, clear, sensation. A feeling she remembered from before, from the first time.

Blue eyes, rich with emotion, with life. Coming in to Dragonhead with a letter of introduction, the welter of the weather only superseded by the welter of her own emotions. Chaos and the awareness that the young Lord she’d been speaking to was under attack for a crime she barely understood. The subtle flinches of some of the retinue, another tally mark in her book of strange things the surface dwellers did that made exactly no sense whatsoever. She learned, later, they whys of it. Those memories layered now on this one, colored things that had been missing at the time. Yet even still she remembered the Silver Fuller, the brilliant shock of his hair, the wide, easy smile. Well, the start of it, anyway. He was happy to have company at the Camp, though the letter she bore had wiped that smile clear, concern overwriting his normally gregarious features. He’d still offered refreshment, warmth, safety, his duties as a host not forgotten even then. She could remember that. 

She leaned over, now, resting her body against the stone, feeling seep of her heat into it. Backward, so backward. So often she had come in from the chill of Coerthas to find him with a blazing fire, waiting with warm stone mugs. So often had he held her hands, wrapping his own around them even as he scolded her for forgetting gloves. His warmth seeping into her, chasing the chill from her body. Carefully she tilted her head back, letting it rest in the small nock on the side of the shield where it too braced against stone. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the light as the sun chased the morning mist away. 

“I read something the other day that reminded me of you. A philosopher in one of the Sharlayan libraries was talking about how Justice and Duty were concepts that we had to believe in, because they were not real. That you could grind the universe to the smallest components, shred it down to the tiniest of bits, and you would not find one iota of justice, one drop of duty, a mite of mercy. That we as breathing, thinking beings must create these things ourselves.” She took a slow breath, the familiar burn of cold, dry air in her nostrils and lungs, a memory as repeated as the taste of dark chocolate and his hands holding hers around a mug to warm them. “I remember the way you looked, the first day we met. You did not see what so many of your countrymen saw, horns, tail, dragon. You saw a person, a friend of a friend, and in your face I saw concepts I hadn’t seen on the surface. Service. Hope. Compassion.” She tucked her hands into her sides, trying to warm them. As always, she’d forgotten gloves. “I think the philosopher was wrong. You would find those molecules in the hearts of men like you.” A soft smile. “I just wish there were more men like you.” 

[yellowbg]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[mirelanast]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[heartmylifes]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[fashionphotograpybg]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[emilyashome]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[resurrectionertugrul]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[musicboxbg]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[myworldbg]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[hopegooday]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[markovastb]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[ladykazanlak]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[yellowbg]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[guidevasilka]

Snowdon or Helvellyn

To some such city, then, we may look in the future. A city where our noble river will flow so bright and clear that our young people can swim in it with pleasure as they do at Paris. A city where we shall again see the blessed sun in a clear blue sky, and watch the steeples and the towers as they do at Paris shining aloft in the bright air. A city which at night will be radiant with the electric light, in the midst of which fountains, as at Rome, will pour forth fresh rivers from the hills — a river in our case of perennial water that has fallen from Snowdon or Helvellyn.

A city where all noxious refuse is absolutely unknown, where no deadly exhalations are pumped into our homes, where a child can drink a glass of water from the tap or the street fountain and sleep in its garret at home with entire impunity, a city where typhus and typhoid, smallpox, zymotic disease, shall be as rare as the plague, and as much a matter of history as the leprosy. A city where the dead shall no longer be a terror to the living, no longer despatched unremembered to some distant burial- place, but kept in our midst — at once a source of reverent memory and of beautiful adornment.

A city where preventable disease is a crime to be charged against some one, and an opprobrium to the district in which it breaks out, like a murder or a burglary. A city where no child shall go untaught because it has no suitable school at hand. A city where no man should go without books, pictures, music, society, art, exercise, or religion, because there were no free libraries at hand, or no museums open when he was at leisure after work, no galleries to look at on a Sunday, no concerts, no parks private tour istanbul, no play-grounds within reach, no free seats in a church which he cared to enter.

II. London in 1894

The Local Government Act of 1888 has undoubtedly added a new impulse to that transformation of London, which historic causes of European range had made neces-sary for more than a generation, and which had been stim-ulated anew by the Parliamentary Redistribution Act of 1885. With the political aspect of these Acts, and with the policy of the London County Council, we have no occasion to concern ourselves in these pages. But the effect of this great municipal reform on the evolution of London as a historic city is too momentous to be passed in silence.

In the first place, London, which a generation ago was an inorganic mass of Parishes variously controlled by obscure Vestries, has been showing in the last decade unexpected tendencies towards organic unity and to evolve an internal organisation. The organic unity has been adjourned, in spite of heroic efforts on many sides, by the natural rivalries between the new Council and the historic Corporation, by differences between the two Houses of Parliament, and by the protracted crisis in the political world. Of all these causes (temporary as true patriots hope) nothing will be said here. In the meantime the spontaneous organisation of London into an aggregate of cities has been one of the most striking of modern movements. It has been greatly stimulated by the two political reforms which created 650,000 voters for London, and divided it into numerous boroughs. These have become real civic organisms of a manageable size; and they have naturally developed a kind of local patriotism, such as was hardly possible to grow up in the vague welter of an unknown and unknowable ‘ Metropolis.’

#Snowdon or Helvellyn

[thewelterschallenge]

The 2019 Welters Challenge, Theme 1

Hello Magicians fandom!

It’s been a hard week after a grueling (to say the least) finale, but we are here to begin the 3rd annual Welters Challenge nonetheless!

The Rules:

If you’ve been with us here before, you can skim this section. We haven’t changed much this year, just a little spit shine and polish. For the newbs, this will be your bible this summer, memorize it, love it, there will be a pop quiz.

For complete list of rules and regulations, please click here. 

Now, on to the fun part!

For our first theme this year, we’re going to focus on The Library.

The library has consistently played a giant part in The Magicians, so it’s naturally time to give them a spotlight here on The Welters Challenge. This means we want Library laden fics, cosplays, fan art… as long as The Library plays a part, we want it. Take them down, redefine them, it doesn’t matter as long as you have fun.

Reminder, this theme is open from now until Tuesday April 30th at 6:00 pm EST

Please tag your works with #the welters library #welters challenge 2019 week 1 and #the 2019 welters challenge along with throwing us an @ in your submission. If we do not reblog within 48 hours feel free to send us an ask.

Happy Creating!

Mod Asmo

#The Welters Challenge #the 2019 welters challenge #The Welters Library #Welters Challenge 2019 week 1 #The Magicians #SyFy The Magicians