#Jigsaw could be more British

[h-didanart]

Not only am I probably the worst person to post this, I have also chosen a terrible time given current canon regarding these th-two

However, these doodles were just too funny to not share, so!

Jigsaw and Bloodmoon being chaotic teammates while stuck in Minecraft, ft. drunk Bloodmoon (how that happened I have no idea)

(Also yes, this art is old, I don’t have any current art to show. I either draw or write, this is the everlasting fight (I rhymed accidentally and felt fancy :P))

[deafeningfanlight23]

SOLAR AND RUIN HEADCANONS THAT ARE LONGER THAN THE BIBLE! :D

IMPORTANT: I CALL RUIN/JIGSAW DOLUS BTW SO DON'T BE CONFUSED- QWQ

Solar:

(I SWEAR IT LOOKS BETTER IN REAL LIFE TRUST ME THE QUALITY OF MY HANDY IS JUST STRAIGHT FROM THE 99 CENT STORE- 😭🙏)

Solar is Romanian (WHERE MY ROMANIAN PEOPLE AT? >:D And don't question the logic of my headcanons MY HEADCANONS, MY RULES >:D). Solar can speak fluently German, Romanian of course, and a bit of French and Portuguese.

Solar is gender-apathetic and could care LESS about gender and pronouns. Solar still dresses more masculine though because he simply likes it.

He's gay and somewhere on the ace-spectrum :D (HE'S OUR ICON I TELL U 💅)

Solar has chronic migraines and backpain and they just get worsened by his AWFUL posture habits. He always takes medications for those, otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to function properly in life. Sometimes, however, he overuses them and goes overboard. Sometimes TOO much overboard. (I SWEAR TO Y'ALL IF YOU QUESTION THE LOGIC OF THE MEDICATION THINGY I'M GONNA MAKE YOU EXPLODE LIKE LUNAR 😃)

His rays aren’t usable anymore. They are fully broken, and two tips of the seven couldn’t be patched up, while the two others were able to be a bit restored by fixing the ends through another, mismatched metal. HIS Moon used to always grab and tug at them as punishment, and unconsciously, he sometimes repeats those actions inflicted upon him by lightly pulling at them when he is stressed or dissociating. He doesn’t allow anyone to touch his rays. NO ONE. (... OUR TRAUMATIZED QUEEN 💃✨ BUT LIKE HE GOING THRU IT FR 😭🙏)

He is an insomniac and a workaholic with a non-existent sleep schedule. He’s got no free time to rewind and relax and doesn’t ALLOW himself to do so, only fueled by coffee and medication.

However, he finds comfort in Dolus (AKA RUIN) and whenever he spends all of his time to hang out with him. He loves those musical numbers Dolus always persuades him into, and although he looks like he is annoyed at first, it’s a big joy for him.

Apropos Dolus, Dolus gifted him a shark keychain which is now securely hanging from Solar’s belt every day. (See picture above :D) Solar uses this as a stress toy because its soft, squishy texture and wool underneath makes it perfect for it.

He often vapes when no one's looking. That's why his voice is so raspy (and from the screaming)

Dolus (aka Ruin/Jigsaw):

DOLUS IS BRITISH, MATE, NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE, MIC DROP 👏 He can only speak English in a British accent and the most broken French known to mankind.

He is genderfluid and sometimes feels like a man and sometimes just non-binary :D His preferred pronouns are he/they.

He is Achillean and somewhere on the ace-spectrum too!

Dolus has a passion for musicals and the theatre. He knows every song of the Hamilton Musical in and out and has watched “The Greatest Showman” over a dozen of times and loves EVERY song of it. Every day, one can catch him humming a song from his favorite musical and dancing a bit to them. In addition, he LOVES to perform those musicals, and he involves Solar in them. Basically: He is a theater kid.

He also has a REALLY big obsession with sharks and even has a full-body shark suit for sleeping and a few shark plushies, which is why he loves the nickname “Sharky” so much.

A big scar is stretched across his face and covers up his right eye, coming from a fire incident where he was trapped underneath ashes, flames and wood. His right eye is still usable, but not as strong as his left in terms of eyesight.

He also has weak joints and can’t endure any sort of pressure for a long time, which is why he has to take sitting and laying breaks and has to do some physical exercises. It's annoying and prevents him from doing some things, but this won't stop him doing things he LOVES. He can’t run properly because of this, walk for a long time and stand more than necessary. Solar sometimes helps Dolus sit when Dolus needs a sitting break or helps him walk when there's no other option. Dolus feels bad about that.

He doesn’t like travel and moving vehicles, as well as bright lights.

THANKS FOR LISTENING, TUNG (=Bye)! :D

[scotianostra]

On December 30th 1969 two police officers died of bullet wounds during a raid on a house in Allison Street, Glasgow; a third was wounded.

Police in Glasgow still remember the murder of two officers, when one of their ex colleagues was spotted with a suspicious package after robbing a bank in Linwood. The horrifying case was led by an ex police officer, who was in jail until 2002.

Shortly after 4pm two officers were shot dead by a man seen acting suspiciously outside a flat in Govanhill on the south side of the city. Their suspect had just taken part in an armed robbery and was carrying the proceeds into the Allison Street tenement in suitcases.

When the two cops followed their man into the ground floor apartment, unaware of the earlier hold-up, he pulled out a gun and shot them dead. The double murder was all the more shocking because it was carried out by a former police officer and colleagu

A few hours later Howard Wilson, married with a young family, was sitting in his police cell in nearby Craigie Street Police Office confessing both murders to his bewildered lawyer Joe Beltrami.

Nineteen years later in his memoir Tales of the Suspected, Beltrami wrote: “As I listened to him. I kept asking myself what could have possessed him.

“He looked more like a businessman than a criminal.”

Wilson had quit the City of Glasgow police in 1968 after 10 years’ service when he failed to get promotion to sergeant.

Instead he opened a greengrocers, The Orchard in nearby Mount Florida. But the outlet, along with another shop he’d bought, was losing money.

His two best friends former prison officer Ian Donaldson, 31, and ex-cop John Sim, 21, both had young families and were also strapped for cash. During one late evening drinking session they joked about robbing a bank to solve all their financial worries. However, the morning after the night before it began to sound like a plan.

Who would suspect two former cops and a prison officer? They had no criminal records and their fingerprints were not on file. The money would also be used to pay off debts so it would disappear as quickly as it had been stolen.

Thus the pieces of a jigsaw were put in place that would result in a cold blooded double execution almost six months later.

The trio recruited a fourth man – Archibald McGeachie – to be their getaway driver, and bought a Russian pistol from the president of the Bearsden Shooting Club, of which all three were members. On July 16, dressed in smart suits and carrying briefcases they walked into the British Linen Bank in Giffnock, East Renfrewshire, and escaped with £20,876 (£270,000 now).

All three, however, were broke again by Christmas and, having got away with it once, planned another heist – this time a branch of the Clydesdale in Linwood, Renfrewshire on December 30.

However, McGeachie took cold feet and declined the job of getaway driver, leaving his three pals to do the job on their own.

On December 23, a week before, the second hold up, he disappeared from his home and was never been seen again.

His fellow robbers escaped this time with £14,000 – much of it in silver coins – which later proved significant when they were all spotted by a suspicious Inspector Andrew Hyslop transporting the suitcases. He recognised Wilson who he had once trained in the use of firearms.

Inspector Hyslop also suspected the trio were carrying stolen whisky, as he didn’t know about the bank robbery. He confronted all three in Wilson’s ground floor flat, having called in reinforcements from Craigie Street.

When the inspector bent down to open one of the cases, his former colleague shot him in the face. Detective Constable Angus MacKenzie and PC Edward Barnett, were then both shot in the head when they tried to arrest him.

As they fell, Wilson calmly stepped up to DC MacKenzie and shot him again, killing him outright.

His accomplice Donaldson had fled the flat, while Sim watched in horror. Wilson turned his attention to another former colleague PC John Sellars, who had taken refuge in the bathroom to radio for help but he couldn’t get through the door. Wilson then noticed Inspector Hyslop beginning to move on the floor, and went to finish him off.

A fifth officer, Detective Constable John Campbell flung himself across the hall at Wilson before he could fire again, saving his colleagues’ life.

DC Campbell managed to wrestle the gun from Wilson just as his fellow officers alerted by the sound of gunfire rushed into the flat.

There they found a scene of unimaginable horror. DC MacKenzie had been killed outright while PC Barnett would die five days later in hospital.

Wilson only seemed to regret only what he had done to DC MacKenzie, whose wife June he knew personally. As he was led away, he asked the arresting officers if they would apologise to her on his behalf.

When the three appeared at Glasgow Sheriff Court on February 6, 1970, Wilson admitted the murders of Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett, attempting to murder Inspector Hyslop, threatening to shoot Constable Sellars, and to the bank robberies at Giffnock and Linwood. A week later, at the High Court in Edinburgh, Wilson was sentenced to life, with a recommendation that he should serve a minimum of 25 years. Donaldson and Sim were given 12 years each for their parts in the robberies.

Later that year it was announced that the Queen had approved awards of the George Medal to Inspector Hyslop and Detective Constable Campbell. Awards of the Queen’s Police Medal for Gallantry were posthumously awarded to Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett. In 1971, PC Sellars was awarded the Glasgow Corporation medal for bravery by the Lord Provost.

Detective Constable McKenzie left a widow, June, and Constable Barnett a widow, Margaret, and two children.

Of the three officers who survived, Inspector Hyslop suffered most as bullet parts had been left deeply embedded in his neck. After many months on sick leave Inspector Hyslop returned to duty. But the shock of his terrible experience had left him unfit to carry on and in June, 1971, he had to resign from the force and died on the island of Islay in 2000, aged 74.

In December 2009, on the 40th anniversary of the murders, Alastair organised a memorial service at Linn Crematorium in Castlemilk where the two officers are buried side by side, attended by their widows.

In September 2002, Wilson was finally freed after almost 33 years behind bars despite strenuous objections from the Scottish Police Federation.

At the time its chairman Norman Flowers, said: “We feel that anyone who murders a police officer should never be released. Life should mean life.”

More facts about this brutal crime can be found here http://www.policemuseum.org.uk/the-allison-street-police.../

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Pic) Read on AO3 

Rated M 

Kumari wiped the glass countertop with a dish towel, listening to the ticking of the clock. She wore an apron underneath her blouse and jeans, Rapunzel black hair rolled up in a braided bun. Business was slow for a Tuesday afternoon. Her husband was sent on another mission yesterday, and her 11 month old son, Kichiro, was upstairs in his crib taking a nap. Most of the morning had been spent rearranging the cast iron cauldrons, wands, and empty crystal balls, which were mostly kept for posterity (they did absolutely nothing). The swords, army knives, guns, and medieval crossbows, on the other hand, were the real deal. If there was one art form Kumari appreciated more than anything it was weaponry. Cursed weaponry, at that. There was no better dealer on this side of the South China Sea than her, and everybody in the jujutsu world knew it. That’s why the sorcerer families continued doing business with her, despite the fall out between her in-laws.

Being a cursed tool specialist wasn’t necessarily the easiest job, but Kumari knew she was top-tier. Just recently she had acquired a handsome yatağan, pommeled in bronze, dating back to the early Ottoman Empire. She had her eye on it for months. The seller didn’t bother recognizing the sword’s true value, or the high volumes of dormant cursed energy contained within its curved blade, talking to her. Probably belonged to a powerful warrior at one time. She got it for a steal. It looked nice mounted on the wall with the other swords next to the four-armed goddess Kali, destroyer of evil and consort to Shiva, enraged as she wore the slaughtered heads and arms of her enemies. Kumari grinned. She was rather fond of that imagery.

Samurai armor. French guillotines. A 1923 Tommy gun owned by Al Capone. Sometimes the tools she acquired couldn’t be sold, either because they were too dangerous for society, or had been stolen and needed to be returned to their rightful owners, tucked dead in their tombs. Like a jigsaw puzzle, it was Kumari’s job to gather the pieces and reassemble them.

Her favorite cases were always swords, be they katana, akrafena, rapiers, or her primary weapon of choice, the double-edged khanda. Ever since her parents signed her up for fencing lessons, Kumari knew she had found her vocation. And upon possessing a rare sealing technique used for cursed tools and artifacts, the choice had been made. Japan came calling, and when entering high school she said goodbye to her beloved New Delhi for a new beginning in Tokyo.

Jujutsu High was where she met her husband, freshman year. Their chemistry was instantaneous. All it took was one, quick glance and Ichiro was hers. They dated all throughout high school and university before tying the knot last year. She was pregnant four months later with their baby boy. With their growing family, the newest Chauhan clan moved to an accommodating townhouse in Minato City, where Kumari’s shop “KUMARI’S APPRAISAL & ARMAMENTS” dwelled on the very first floor. Due to the nature of her enterprise, she had special permission from the Japanese government to sell illegal weapons. Only registered jujutsu sorcerers were allowed access.

With her two bare hands, Kumari had carved a comfortable niche for herself, but living in Japan as a foreigner wasn’t always so simple. She still got stared at when walking down the street on her way to the market. Her mocha colored skin and long black hair were quite eye-catching. Ichiro thought she was beautiful of course. His family thought otherwise. Seemed neither money nor royal blood would do for the Kamo’s.

The Chauhan dynasty, Kumari’s ancestors, was believed to have ruled over the region of Sapadalaksha, located in present day Rajasthan where most of India’s kings reigned. They did so for 600 years before the turn of the 12th century and later British colonialism. As a little girl, Kumari could remember her grandfather bouncing her on one knee as he re-dramatized the war stories of Prithviraj Chauhan III laying siege to Muhammad Ghori’s forces at the Battle of Tarain. He would also recite to her the Bhagavad Gita; When Prince Arjuna threw down his bow, ready to forfeit the seemingly useless fight, till lord Krishna reminded him of his duty as a warrior. Her grandmother would be busy in the kitchen making dumplings (momos), singing traditional folk songs. The scent of curry leaves and chili would linger all throughout the house. She missed it sometimes.

The direct Chauhan line lost their royalty, but not their wealth. Kumari wore the ruby and pearl beaded necklace once belonging to Bhupinder Singh, the Maharaja of Patiala, on her wedding with a whole string of decadent jewels, and a lehenga designed and sewn by Sabyasachi Mukherjee. Although the Chauhan’s kept most of their wealth hidden and lived by more modest means; ie, not residing in palatial houses with servants and priceless treasures, staying out of the limelight as much as possible. Both of Kumari's parents worked in academia. Her mother obtained a doctorate in biophysics, while her father served as co-director for the Department of South Asian Studies at a prestigious university, focusing on past and modern Indo-Pakistani relations. Kumari followed in her parents’ academic footsteps, earning a bachelor’s in Military Science and a master’s in Weapon Appraisal after graduating from Jujutsu High, taking up sword smithing as a side hustle. Turns out she excelled in her craft, yet for all the expertise it wouldn’t be enough to curry favor with her in-laws.

She blamed Ichiro’s domineering aunt, Hatsumomo, the most. That witch. Kumari likened her to a Malabar viper, toxic to everyone she saw as indecent, which in her world meant anyone who lacked the right lineage. Jujustu society was very much a world of who’s in and who’s out, but in all the years she had confronted the Kamo woman, Kumari never let the old snake coil under her skin. She attributed the witch’s bitterness from being overlooked as clan leader many years back, despite being the eldest in the Kamo family. Now she wreaked her vengeance as the self-proclaimed “leading lady” of jujutsu society, delegating what was and was not permissible. However, Kumari wasn’t the groveling sort and refused to bend the knee. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. The satisfaction she felt for wearing a heavily embroidered sari in front of the appalled Kamo’s face still lived fresh in her memory (with a gold nath and chain). That was before her and Ichiro were married, the day he formally announced his separation from the Kamo clan, taking the Chauhan name instead. There was no turning back now, but as a wise man once said; when one door closes, another one…

The doorbell to her shop jingled, signaling the arrival of a customer.

Kumari’s head flew up from the countertop to spot the world’s strongest sorcerer entering her store. She smiled.

“Ah, Satoru. I was wondering when you’d show up. I expected your dandelion head in here hours ago.”

The Six Eyes wielder ruffled his snow-white hair. “Sorry. We walked past a new flower shop and Hannah couldn’t resist.”

The girl in question popped out from behind her husband, cheeks noticeably red.

“We weren’t in there very long,” she insisted. “Honest.”

“Oh, it’s fine. You didn’t make an appointment,” Kumari assured, beckoning them inside. “Come in, come in.” The couple walked towards her, allowing the Indian tradeswoman to better evaluate Satoru’s little bride. She already knew the girl was English, if the light dusting of freckles, pale skin, and auburn colored hair were any clues. Plus the accent, which was still distinct when speaking Japanese, thought she hid it well. She was at least five inches shorter.

Kumari noticed Hannah’s hazel eyes on the tiny dagger pierced through her right ear. Ichiro bought it for her as an anniversary present. Vastly intrigued, the Indian woman leaned closer.

“So you’re the illustrious Hannah everyone has been raving about.”

Hannah swallowed nervously. “R-Raving?”

Kumari dismissed the question and extended her hand. “The name is Chauhan Kumari. I specialize in cursed tools and weaponry. You could even say I’m the best arms dealer in the biz. Welcome to my shop.” Her eyes redirected towards Satoru who quickly hid his hand behind his back, having been caught meddling with some miniature voodoo dolls sitting on a revolving rack. She pointed a finger. “And I’ve known this loser since he was a senpai of mine back in Jujutsu High.”

“Your favorite senpai, might I add,” Satoru corrected cheekily, shooting her a wide, cheshire-cat grin before thinking over what she had said. “Hold on, since when am I a loser?”

Kumari rolled her dark green eyes at the jujutsu sorcerer, paying him no heed. Hannah seized the opportunity to reach out.

“It’s a pleasure,” she said, shaking the arm dealer’s outstretched hand.

“I concur,” Kumari replied with a smile.

Bummed that his former underclassman thought so lowly of him, Satoru spun around on his heels, doing a quick scan of the store. He seemed confused. “Oi, where’s that lovesick husband of yours, Kumari? I haven’t seen him since Gion.”

Kumari was back to furiously wiping the countertop with the dish towel, her smile morphing into a frown. “Ichiro is away on a mission.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes,” Kumari huffed, less than happy with the outcome. She scrubbed harder. “Seriously.”

“But why? Wasn’t he assigned to Osaka just last week?”

“Yes, yes. Don’t remind me, Satoru,” the arms dealer fumed, raising her hand to silence him. “I’ve vented enough about it already.”

Satoru sulked. “Shit, and here I thought I was being overworked. The bastards.”

“He’s supposed to be home Thursday night, God willing.”

“What about the tiny squirt?” he asked. “How’s he doin’?”

“Oh, you know. Lively as any other toddler would be. Right now he’s upstairs, taking his afternoon nap.”

“I imagine he must keep you on your toes,” Hannah chimed, joining in the light banter.

“All the bloody time,” the Indian woman exclaimed. “Especially now that he can walk and talk, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Motherhood has been kind to me.” She placed the dish towel on her shoulder. “Though I understand you’re not here for a life update. Fork it over, pretty boy. Show me what you did.”

Sheepishly, Satoru took out a small cloth bag from his back pocket. He loosed the strings, and flipping the bag upside down, shook out its contents. Several broken shards of Stinging Nettle, the green silked tantō he had gifted Hannah, fell atop the glass countertop like coins, as did the wooden hilt, cracked right in the center. It was his fault. After excorcizing the curse from the opera and teaching Hannah how to use it, the cursed tool self combusted. He had been too rough.

The arms dealer pursed her lips.

“Chutiya,” she cursed in Hindi. “This is the fifth cursed weapon from my shop you’ve broken this year. These daggers don’t grow on bloody trees, you know?”

Satoru looked almost guilty. “Can it be fixed?”

“Of course it can be fixed!” Kumari shrilled, swatting him with her dish towel. “What kind of business do you think I’m running? A concession stand?” She whipped out a small microscope from her apron to inspect the fragmented surgical steel. “I’ll have to weld the pieces back together and recarve the hilt from scratch, then check its cursed energy output for holes. By my estimation, the repair should take no longer than three weeks.” She glowered at her former senpai suspiciously. “I expect to be well compensated for this, correct?”

Satoru nodded. “You name it, I’ll pay it.”

“Good. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah. How much you want for that mean looking guy over there?”

Kumari craned her neck. He was pointing towards a wide-edged combat knife mounted on the wall below the katana. She mentally processed everything she knew about the blade. DNA results showed the black fur on its guard was actually the hide of an eastern lowland gorilla, a critically endangered species forested in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The two holes, or rings, punched in the 12 inch steel were meant to help distribute its weight when held. The hilt was wrapped in wildebeest leather. While imbued with cursed energy, the fighting knife was safe for non-sorcerers. It must’ve been very old, which in her profession upped the retail price. Excellent.

An imp-like smirk graced her features as she swiveled back to face the Six Eyes wielder. “Not sure,” she challenged. “How much do you think it’s worth?”

The game was on.

“Two million,” Satoru said.

She taped her chin. “Mmm, more like five million.”

“What?! There’s no way it costs that much.” He tried throwing a different number. “Three and a half.”

“Four million.”

“Okay then, three eight-hundred.”

“Sorry, Gojo. Four million is my final asking price. Take it or leave it.”

“Dammit,” Satoru swore under his breath with a wry smile, already pulling out his checkbook. “Chauhan, some days I swear you’re out to bleed me dry. You bargain worse than Mei Mei.”

“Mei-san doesn’t have a child to raise,” Kumari reasoned, gladly swiping the signed check of ¥4,000,000 off his hands. She walked around the counter and grabbed the knife from the wall, procuring a case for it. “Thanks for supporting local. Your patronage is greatly appreciated.”

Satoru wallowed in his defeat and lifted his newly made purchase from its case, flipping it side to side. “What’s the knife’s name?”

Kumari placed the check in the register, closing the cash box. “Slaughter Demon.”

Meanwhile, Hannah had her eye locked on a lone wooden shelf situated in the corner, filled with books next to rows of paper scrolls and blank spell-tags. Satoru had been watching. She refused leaving his side and he felt he knew why. His hand landed on her head. Hazel met turquoise as she peered up at him.

“Hey, you don’t need my permission, alright?” he told her. “If you want to look at the books, have at it. You're safe here.”

“Thank you,” she said quickly and darted for the book shelf, wasting no time finding one that caught her attention. Satoru chuckled warmly, observing her flip a few pages, close the book, then return it on the shelf before selecting a new one, fingers running along the paper bindings. Now that she was out of earshot, he felt free to speak.

“Is it ready?”

Kumari’s face suddenly blanched like she was about to be ill. “Yes, wait here.” She disappeared through a curtain behind the counter, soon returning with a mysterious lacquered box. She placed it cautiously in front of him. “Don’t ask how it went. Had to perform the ritual in the basement. I won’t sugarcoat it, Satoru, this one was worse than the first.”

Unafraid, Satoru cracked open the lid. Kumari shivered.

Inside was the lone Sukuna finger obtained from the New National Theatre back in July. Satoru had given the finger to Kumari to re-seal with wax. It had taken close to two months, but the cursed relic was officially under wraps. He picked up the hooked finger that upon closer inspection seemed to be the pinkie belonging to Sukuna’s left hand. He scowled at it. Hundreds dead because of this damn thing. Wordlessly, he transferred the sealed finger from the box into his front pocket. He would return it to Jujutsu High where it would be kept under lock and key.

They heard a small sneeze reminiscent of a child’s. The two sorcerers look to see Hannah coughing and batting away heavy clouds of dust. Somehow, her petite stature managed to free a book on the top shelf yet to be cleaned. She appeared fine, but Kumari's mind wandered to a different matter.

“How is she sleeping?”

Satoru frowned. “To be honest, not that great.”

Hannah’s sleep schedule had gone from bad to shit. The Sight gave her no reprieve. The only good part was when they’d separate for bed, and Satoru would feel a tug on his arm; Hannah pulling him inside her room because she didn’t want to be alone. The grief following Keiko’s execution last week had not lost its grip. She needed him, and Satoru liked being needed. He liked planting secret kisses on her head and holding her close when the nightmares came. His own Sleeping Beauty in his arms. He liked it.

“Have you discussed her visions?” Kumari said.

“We’re starting to,” he sighed. “I keep asking whether she’s noticed anything weird, a clue that another Sukuna finger will pop up. So far, there’s been no patterns. At least, that’s what she’s told me.”

“So she would know for sure if a new finger was set to emerge?”

“Mmhm.”

Kumari leaned atop the glass counter again, staring down at the collection of knickknacks and magical trinkets, resting a palm on her cheek. “The Sight; a rare, involuntary foresight that is initiated by the amount of cursed energy existing in the environment during sleep. What a strange ability.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Satoru huffed.

“I wouldn’t want that power,” Kumari admitted. “Not for all the tea in China, though I do wonder. Are there other abilities associated with it? Telepathy? Mind reading? Hypnosis?”

The Six Eyes wielder shook his head. “None that I’m aware of.” Although, there was a slight hesitation in his voice. Kumari sensed he wasn’t telling the full truth, but wouldn’t prod him. Her thoughts went back to Hannah.

“I can tell she’s a sweet girl,” she sympathized. “Perhaps even a little too sweet.”

“She’s tougher than she looks.”

“You sound smitten.”

She had meant it as a joke, but Satoru wasn't taking the bait and held his silence. Her green eyes widened a fraction.

“Oh-ho, I stand corrected,” she quipped. “More than smitten. Well, I'm happy to hear it. About time you settled down with someone and made a decent life for yourself. Should I prepare to be an Auntie anytime soon?”

Satoru smirked. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” he chuckled dryly. Kumari patted him on the back.

“Aw, no worries, dandelion head. You’ll be changing diapers soon enough, just you wait. Then the real fun begins.”

Satoru’s eyes commenced to watching Hannah parse through the books. She had abandoned the dusty novel on a nearby table, too short to put it back, and was reading a different one. “No offense, Kumari, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

Kumari gave a long sigh, twirling her hand in the air. “Fine, fine, you’re right. But there isn’t much to her, Satoru. A wind gust could probably come in and blow her away.”

Satoru snorted. “Has anyone ever told you not to judge a person by appearances? I said she’s tougher than she lets on.”

“Toughness doesn’t count much these days. Strength perhaps, but not necessarily toughness.”

“She is strong.”

“Says you.”

She heard him give a loud exhale through his nose, a sign he wasn’t going to continue arguing.

“She has me, Kumari.” Kumari turned to the world’s strongest sorcerer as he said it, his eyes trained on his wife turning another page. She saw the conviction cut through those strikingly blue irises. “I’m all the strength she needs.”

Kumari stared at her former senpai, doubting for a second he was really the same person who once saran-wrapped school staircases and unscrewed teacher’s chairs as pranks, spurting practical jokes on the fly like he intended to make it a career. This Satoru was new to her. Not since Geto’s fall from grace had she seen her friend act so serious.

Has one girl truly changed you that much? the tradeswoman thought.

They saw Hannah walking towards the sales wrap, book in hand.

“Find something interesting?” Satoru said.

“I did, actually,” she gushed, laying a blue covered book along the countertop. Madame Camille’s Simple Guide to Enchanted Textiles. Kumari nodded in approval. A fine choice, and so she took the book and rang it up for them on the register. Satoru handed her the total in change, and once the purchase was finalized, the two Gojo’s bid goodbye to their weapon-enthusiast friend and sauntered out of the shop. Kumari saw Satoru's large hand covet his wife’s smaller one just as the door closed behind them, the besotted gleam in his eye. It was the same twitterpated look Ichiro reserved only for her, the look of a man hopelessly in love. She heard Hannah giggle at something silly he said.

Kumari hummed.

Therein lied her answer.

[fnaffersblog]

Spoilers Below for ‘Moon RETURNS!? in VRCHAT’

The third one. From June 27th 2023. 

Trigger Warnings Below for: Cursing

I was wondering earlier today how Moon was doing dealing with Lord Monty and Nice Eclipse for a month. I wonder if he’s done any bonding w Nice Eclipse. I’m sure he’s ready to get home. I’m sure Sun’s missin him a lot, but I wonder how receptive he'll be to Sun jumping all about him in excitement.

I love that Lord Monty, despite wielding one of if not the most powerful object in his universe, is seen as like an annoying nuisance at most by the people who are in his universe.

On one hand I see where Eclipse is coming from here in regards to the speed the satellite was built. It's good to be cautious, especially with something so important and I imagine they spent the last month meticulously building this thing.

On the other hand, they're genius super computer animatronics being supported by actual genius super computer AI's. Lol.

"Not to mention I still gotta deal with the amalgam." Uh. Oh. Hm. Moon. Buddy. I got some news for you.

I KNEW that was gonna be a fuckin problem lololololol

Like, I KNOW Jigsaw was never gonna STAY in the arcade room but come on, you know? They really just left him there and went *dusting off hands* 'Job completed! That's a problem for future SaMs!' I'm laughing about it.

The satellite was the easy part. I'm super interested to see how they solve the infinitely more difficult issue of getting Eclipse into this dimension.

I'm... actually a little afraid they're gonna actually kill Eclipse again. Turns out I'm still not ready for it.

"More British man?" NO. NO. MOON. GET OUT OF THERE. LEAVE. PLEASE, BEFORE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The utter look of betrayal on Eclipses's fuckin face as Moon fingergunned his way backwards into the portal. I'm wheezing.

UNS IS THWOORNG BARELLLS??? WHAT??

By God he really was losing his mind with out Moon.

He's so excited! He's so excited! I'm so excited!

Sun told Moon he was gonna be pissed and Moon's immediate assumption was Sun thought he'd be mad because he wasn't taking care of himself.

"I assumed that was gonna happen." >:} Oh did you? /j

Bonus: Sun trying to ease Moon into the conversation about how he went off to do some questioning in regards to the whole 'taking care of Eclipse' situation on his own. Making excuses for why he did what he did. Making it sound like it was just a passing silly curiosity tee hee! Awkwardly laughing to try and ease tensions. He assumed Moon would be mad that he did all that.

NEWTON STAR LORE *POUNDING MY FISTS ON THE DESK* LET'S GO.

Okay. So we're getting contrasting information about the star here. I was under the impression the star was a mix between a magical and a technological object which is what made it so powerful. Golden Freddy said it's base was a magical artifact and now Moon is saying it's a piece of technology. Science, not magic. I wouldn't be surprised if the exact nature of the Star was part of the information lost when Old Moon reset.

I do remember there being something said at some point about how there can only be one Star per universe. I swear. There are just SO many lore episodes trying to find one line in several hours worth of footage is nigh impossible. But it sounds like, as of now, they COULD make a new star, it's possible. It's just that THEY, Sun and Moon can't because they don't have the blueprints or whatever because Old Moon deleted them.

It kinda sounds like they're just as confused about Newton Star lore as we are which is very funny. (Moon's shrug. LOL)

Don't misunderstand me! I Fucking Love The Newton Star Shit. They keep making shit up for it and then not giving a fuck. I get very excited every time they mention the NEwton Star.

Newton Star lore boils down to 'do whatever you want forever'. Facts about the Newton Star are concrete all the way up until they aren't. Shrodinger's Newton Star Lore.

On one hand, I think it's very funny that everyone keeps making fun of Eclipse for putting on a very see-through villain persona. Puppet, Sun, Moon, all of them keep pointing out his façade and making fun of him.

On the other hand. Remember that time he trapped Moon in his own body and made any action taken by his possesor cause him terrible pain, dragging Moon clawing back into one of his worst traumas? Remember when he blew up Lunar in cold blood? Like, yes, I agree. Eclipse is kind of pathetic. Eclipse Baby. But I do think they shouldn't be so flippant about him. Eclipse IS capable of doing heinous shit and he's done so before. Like. He's not STUPID.

On the other other hand, the idea that they could just use gun or trick him into getting pushed into the ballpit a la sharptooth from land before time style to defeat Eclipse is terribly funny. Especially if they did so while he was evil dude monologuing.

Sun is really just trying to help here. That doesn't make Moon's silent pantomime of 'bruh' any less funny. That whole silent interaction was great.

On a less funny note, I do appreciate Moon allowing Sun to talk and not straight up calling his ideas stupid. Like, yeah the 'pushin' Eclipse into the pit with a bit of elbow grease' idea was not the best, but it came from a place of sincerity. And when Sun suggested 'Rick Sanchez's portal gun', regardless of Sun's incredulous manner when suggesting it, Moon took that as an ACTUAL idea.

THE AI'S ARE FIGHTING. The SHADE being thrown.

It never occurred to me that they might DISLIKE one another. I always just assumed they were friends, or at the very least they got along since they inhabited the same arcade machine together and both of them 'work' for Moon. AI1 immediately turning on Moon when he got snarky with him. I keep replaying this entire interaction, it's very funny.

Also, Moon refers to the AI's as brothers. I just... thought that was interesting.

"That was the other me. This is the new me." Hmmmmm.

"I don't trust you now."

"WHAT?" Hmmmm??

This right here, Moon allowing Sun to talk about what he was doing instead of just shooting ideas down. Telling him that he recognizes Sun is trying to help, recognizing the effort Sun is putting into this mission. Saying straight out that they'll try and figure things out together. This was so important to me.

Sun ASKED Moon 'Can I say my thing?' and Moon immediately paused, gave the mic to him. And then he LISTENED. ACTIVELY LISTENED.

*Insert Deltarune Explosion mp3*

"Why are we Fallout 4-ing this?"

"He's a God." Lol.

New Moon gettin' reeeeeal stressed out by everything going on right now + Old Moon's shit. He sounded so annoyed when he said 'I can learn'. He's got so much shit on his shoulders. I hope once all this is over, he gets a moment to sit down and sift through all this shit, with Old Moon and his current life and situation.

Sun making a suggestion about Killcode and Moon giving him the floor to speak his part again. It's making my heart hurt. It's so important to me that Sun gets to SPEAK.

"98.5% accur-"

"95%. That's pretty good."

... "98.5%" *Simulates clearing their throat* "This is why you never listen to me."

"I'm sorry. I was talking!"

And then AI2, not one to pass up on an opportunity to both dunk on Sun and show up AI1 pops in to sass Sun. Wonderful.

Fucking love the banter by god. Have I

HAVE I

HAVE I EVER MENTIONED

HAVE I EVER SAID ALOUD FOR THE MASSES TO PERCIEVE

THAT I ENJOY THIS SHOW?

Have I said that yet?

Sometimes I just feel the need to repeat that.

Lol

Anyways

Haven't heard a bald joke in awhile.

Moon threatening to hit Sun as a joke, and Sun holding up his hand. You can't fucking hide that from me. I saw that shit. I SAW that shit.

I always assumed KC went off to explore the wilds for some reason. Like, became a full time hiker. It never occurred to me he might go get a job. I love the idea that he went for volunteer work.

AI1 suggesting, unprompted, that Moon be the one to go and see Killcode. Their reason is sound, yes. But that was weird.

OH.

SHIT.

BIGGEST FUCKING PLOT TWIST OF THE EPISODE!

I

Wow ok.

This is HUGE. This is MASSIVe. I don't

I can't

This show makes my jaw drop sometimes. Irl. Because something'll happen and it'll just take me so by surprise I go fully Looney Tunes jaw-on-the-floor. Like, Moon and Lunars deaths and the fucking trapping episodes did it...

MOON GRANTING FULL ADMIN ACCESS TO SUN IS HUGE.

And... Like. There was no fucking

There was no fucking SNARK. Moon didn't groan and go 'I'm gonna regret this aren't I?' which I can

like, I can HEAR him mumbling some shit like that under his breath before.

the annoyed sigh was because AI1 questioned the decision not because of Sun

He paused to consider his options and came to the conclusion that the best solution to this problem was to LET SUN HELP.

I'm having so many thoughts. Oh MY God.

Moon not knowing the code/ caring enough to break a previous set protocol for the gun but knowing the code to grant Sun admin access.

I

yeh.

I watched it a second time. I might cry. Jesus Christ.

It really just was a 'Oh this'll help Sun!' decision. Even Sun was dumbfounded. He really did just go 'here's some extra tools for your disposal' he's so casual about it he WANTS Sun to help him im

I'm having a hard time trying to describe why this was so important because I'm getting emotional over it fuck

Moving on. I'll

Get to that in the future

I think this is the second time it's been insinuated that Sun is the best candidate to find Eclipse because of their shared history. Golden Freddy kinda touched on it in his own cryptic way and now Moon's suggesting the same thing. I saw someone else on here point that out.

Moon's excitement as he's running out the door. "We're gonna do a video later! Go ahead and pick a game! :D "

Sweet. Welcome back Moon, u were missed.

Unprompted, recommending a game again. It's a horror game, a Garten fan game.

I'm trying to tell if it's Eclipse pretending to be AI1 again, which would skew my perspective on the previous interactions in the episode. But I'm also wondering if this is AI1... caring about Sun?

We haven't lost the snark towards Sun lol.

I'm gonna have to go back to that one episode where Sun breaks Moon's computer and listen to what AI1 sounded like because there WAS a subtle difference, to hint that it was Eclipse, that I didn't pick up on until I went back and watched the episodes again later, after everything happened with Killcodes resurgence and the truth of that whole situation being revealed.

He's done this before. Did Old Moon ever tell Sun about that? That that happened? Probably not knowing what I know about Old Moon. So most likely, neither of them have any reason to suspect Eclipse can do that even though he's done it before. We still don't know what his 'false hope' plan is, but now that I'm thinking about it this could be exactly what's happening here.

[evilestgentleman]

could you tell us some unexpected submissions?

I had different Team Fortress 2 characters submitted, all of which shook me until I remembered that TF2 has Lore

England Hetalia JUMPSCARED me and every friend who I've told about that submission (but reading "B...Br-... British Empire..." as a reason had me howling)

As someone who's only culturally familiar w the Saw franchise, seeing Jigsaw in the spreadsheet always makes me go "Oh what? Huh?"

Luxord Kingdomhearts was Totally Out There for me cause to me he's more like, Cool Older Gay who you don't know but who buys you a drink and listens to you chat and gives you some honest advice w no expectations? But like, I Get It the more I think about it sorry I'm rambling so much but I AM the person who did a 3 hour long KH powerpoint xxxxx

[starseedfxofficial]

Trump's Return: Hidden Moves & Ninja Tactics Shaking the Market The Market's Back in Trump Mode: Hidden Moves, Ninja Tactics & The Fine Print Is That a Steepener in Your Pocket or Are You Just Glad to See Trump? Ladies and gentlemen, gather round because the markets are taking a wild ride down memory lane. USTs are feeling the pressure, and guess who's back in the driver's seat? That's right—the Trump Train is rolling into town, bringing along the usual political circus and market chaos. With the former president set to make a grand return to the White House (pending House control—currently sitting at a comfortable 60% probability but still too close to call), there's no shortage of speculative action on the street. And boy, isn't it steep? But before you hop on that excitement, let's zoom in and see what kind of steepener, fade, or flattening we might be dealing with, depending on how the House swings. Today, it's all about ninja tactics and reading between the lines—because when it comes to the Trump bond market narrative, there’s a lot more at stake than meets the eye. USTs are flirting with contract lows, dipping down to 109-07, versus a session high of 110-21+. Traders are running around the trading desks like headless chickens, flipping from steepening to flattening bets faster than Trump changes his catchphrases. Want to survive this madness? Stick with me, because we're about to unravel some hidden dynamics and tactics you won't see on any Bloomberg ticker. But first—why so steep? Well, if Trump comes back with Senate support but is left wrangling with a Democratic House, that fading steepener will be your best friend. Sure, it may feel like trying to time a lightning strike, but when it's about saving those precious pips, nothing is too obscure. Here’s where we switch to ninja mode—ready for some hidden tips? Remember this: the steepening tells us that traders think spending and stimulus will explode under a unified Trump government. But if the House decides to take a Democratic turn, that steepening will fizzle faster than a one-hit-wonder on TikTok. The Bund Bundling: Love 'Em or Fade 'Em While the USTs are doing their thing across the pond, let’s talk about our European pals. Bunds are basking in the spotlight, bolstered by the same Trump victory narrative. Are we surprised? Heck no. Trump bringing a return to America-first rhetoric, potential tariffs, and overall economic headwinds for Europe means the market is ready to frontload yield compression like there's no tomorrow. Bunds have been on a rollercoaster—kicking off at a high of 132.22 and cruising down to 131.82, while the UST-Bund 10-year yield spread widened its gap to over 200 bps. And here’s where things get funny—for the nth time in recent weeks, it looks like we’re back to talking about 15- and 30-year auctions that the markets barely noticed. It's like the Bunds are throwing a party that no one shows up for. Expert insight? Take a look at the bigger picture, my friend. While Bunds look attractive in a lower yield environment—mostly thanks to ECB pre-emptive moves to offset those America-first tantrums—there’s something even deeper in play. You see, seasoned traders have an uncanny knack for picking apart Bund behavior and pricing the impact before the event hits. It's all about getting ahead of the game. Want to do this right? Start looking at multi-year Bund-BTP spreads and watch how the Italian jitters could come into play if Trumpian tariffs swing back around. You’re welcome—just don’t forget me when you hit those jackpot trades. Gilts: The Brits Are Taking the 'Wait and See' Approach Ah, the Gilts. Aren't they just the awkward cousin in this global bond bonanza? UK bond traders had a front-row seat to this Trump drama, but somehow managed to keep their calm. Why? It turns out that—surprise, surprise—US-EU dynamics don’t perfectly fit into the British economic jigsaw puzzle. The Gilts, instead, decided to stay somewhat neutral, caught between the bullish moves from EGBs and bearish signals from USTs. But, let’s be real—it’s all about the Bank of England this week. If you want to understand the play here, take a closer look at how the Gilts are pricing ahead of the BoE meeting. Think of this as a grand game of chess, with fiscal implications lurking around every corner. Advanced tactics here? Watch for 2-10 Gilt steepeners to catch a pre-BoE upward move and fade any over-excitement once the BoE decision goes public. We’ve seen this dance before, and experienced Gilt traders know that trying to predict UK fiscal decisions is like betting on the outcome of your grandma’s bingo game—it’s always an entertaining but unpredictable affair. Unconventional Wisdom: Follow the Money, But Track the Real Narrative One of the biggest issues with the typical trader's approach to these scenarios is focusing too much on what the headlines tell them. The market's reaction to political shifts—especially in an era when populism, surprise tariffs, and unconventional fiscal policy seem to pop up like unwelcome house guests—is often one-dimensional. That's where you come in, savvy trader, with your behind-the-scenes knowledge. The spreads are moving, but the real winners are already preparing their next moves based on who’s actually getting what power in DC. Don't forget: Europe, the US, and the UK are all playing different games right now. Each of these regions is focusing on its own troubles, and a victory in one could mean a setback in another. The USTs may keep falling, and Gilts might keep bouncing back, but the question is—are you reacting or acting? Because in this wild world of Forex and bonds, only the ones with ninja-level foresight get to laugh all the way to the bank. To sum up this rollercoaster of a day: USTs under pressure, Bunds bolstered by America's chaos, and Gilts keeping it cool before the BoE decision. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, don’t sweat it—just remember that the key to navigating these waters is not to follow the herd but to understand the drivers beneath the surface. The steepeners, the flatteners, the auctions no one’s attending—they all make sense when you look at the incentives, the power plays, and the real winners here. As always, stay tuned for more expert analysis, underground tactics, and humorous anecdotes right here. We’ll keep digging so you can keep winning. Want to stay ahead of the game? Check out our exclusive services to gain that strategic edge: - Latest Economic Indicators and Forex News: Stay informed on market movements and groundbreaking concepts with exclusive, real-time updates. - Forex Education: Expand your knowledge with in-depth resources, advanced methodologies, and little-known strategies. - Community Membership: Join the StarseedFX community for expert analysis, daily alerts, live trading insights, insider tips, and elite tactics. - Free Trading Plan: Set goals, manage risks, and track progress with our detailed trading plan. Discover rare strategic advantages. - Free Trading Journal: Enhance performance and refine strategies with real metrics using advanced methods for progress tracking. - Smart Trading Tool: Optimize your trading with automated lot size calculations, insights, and order management. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[midnightpulses]

Got tagged in this question game by @itsintrovertedpotato 💜

Its a lot more questions than i thought. Was fun though

1. Do you make your own bed: Once in a blue moon. Usually i dont have the time or the will to do it. I do think i should do it more.

2. What's your favorite number: None. Maybe 14, i dont know.

3. Current job: Software developer i guess

4. If you could go back to school would you: Elementary? No. High school? The older i am the more i think i do. Especially the latter years.

5. Can you parallel park: I could on my drivers' exam. Havent tried since.

6. A job you had that would surprise people: Fry cook. I think thats how you would call it, i was making and selling fried street food as part of a restaurant.

7. Do you think aliens are real: Yes. Dont know how advanced but definitely real.

8. Can you drive a manual car: Same as parallel parking. Although i have tried since but i find it too stressful.

9. Guilty pleasure: None that i can think of, that i actually feel guilty for.

10. Tattoos: I currently have the Necron ankh of the Triarch from Warhammer 40k on my right forearm and the razor logo from Judas Priest's British Steel album on my left shoulder. I do plan to add more things at one point. My next tattoo would probably be High Queen Khalida from Warhammer Fantasy.

11. Favorite color: Purple and Green. Both in some more muted, or deep variants

12. Favorite music genre: Metal in most of its forms, mostly Death and Doom/Sludge. But currently my obsession is 90s/00s jungle/breakcore/DnB... And french disco pop (L'Imperatrice)

13. Do you like puzzles: Like jigsaws? I did as a kid, nowadays it depends on the day. But puzzles in general yes.

14. Phobias: Caves(underground in general) Heights.

15. Favorite childhood sport: Motorsports in general, but especially rallying, f1, and endurance racing. For someone that doesnt like to drive im really into cars.

16. Do you talk to yourself: Small comments sometimes but not like actual conversations. At least not out loud.

17. Favorite movies: Oh i can go on for days. But i think Reservoir Dogs, Dirty Harry, The Godfather pt. 2, Mad Max: Fury Road, The LotR trilogy, Se7en, Hercules (1995 disney one), Howl's Moving Castle, Redline, The Dollars trilogy, Pink Panther (at least the Peter Sellers ones), all Leslie Nielsen comedies, The Land Before Time, and so on

18. Coffee or tea: Tea, 80% of the time.

19. First thing you wanted to be when you grow up: A geographer/explorer/historian mix, or an astronaut.

A lot of the people i would like to tag are either inactive or deactivated. Or i just dont talk to them and it would make me feel awkward. So i wont be taggin.

[samobservessonic]

Stringer is taking the lead story this time and giving us another oneshot, this time with Casanova's incredibly detailed art back in the mix. I do love these backgrounds - they look like they’d be at home on one of those fantasy jigsaw puzzles you’d get back in the 90s. Or maybe those aren’t as common as I think they are. Regardless, that’s what it makes me think of

It also looks as if Amy’s been left at home for some reason (Booo!) and we’re getting a boys’ day out. I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but I do like that Johnny is taller than the other characters, as it makes him stand out a bit more. I think that even if I was adapting the StC characters to modern Sonic designs, I’d still picture Johnny as being taller than the others. Probably more like Vanilla and Vector’s height?

Anyway, I’m getting distracted. We join our guys as they head to somewhere that’s simply called The Frozen Zone (I guess they couldn’t use Icecap, since that’s on the Floating Island), which they’ve heard needs some assistance from Robotnik. Poor Tails is so cold that he wants faux fur on top of his real fur, but Sonic is having none of that

Dr. Quack from the Archie Comics severely regretting booking his holiday to the Pleasant Zone right now

Turns out they were frozen by this robot and not to be a hater, but I’m not really digging this generic robot design. I think what StC is missing at this stage is more larger robot designs in the games (that aren't piloted by Robotnik) to pull from. Because they do keep using these sort of level boss robot characters a lot and if they’d had more game designs to use in this role I think it’d be a bit more interesting than some of the ones we’ve had so far

Anyway, robot’s gone now. So, I guess not actually the antagonist of this story, since we’re only four pages in

Sonic is indeed too smart to believe that’s it, so the three of them head off to find a way to rescue both the residents of this zone and also Johnny, who once again has the bad luck of not getting his time to shine in this issue. Y’know, for all I’ve heard people think of Porker as the coward (which imo is a misunderstanding of his trauma, but that’s getting off-topic), he really is the one on the front line with Sonic a lot. Probably because they need him as the genius character that Tails isn’t established as yet, but still

I think I’ve scrolled past this guy on the Sonic wiki before. Anyway, he’s the actual villain and he has a lot more of those robots. He makes no bones about how you can guess where he’s going with a name like The Chiller

That’s Porker and Tails out

Sonic’s right, might as well get this over with

Sonic has about as much patience for this guy as I do. Though I am amused at the very British temperature scale in the background

Then again, maybe this guy was ahead of his time and could help us with global warming?

Oh look, the “It’s a fair cop, Guv’nor, etc!” panel that people use to bring up how British StC is. I mean, they’re not wrong about that

Now Sonic is literally saying that this guy is a bad villain and could use his skills to help people instead, which the Chiller instantly agrees with. I know I spent the last few pages ragging on this guy, but I do think it’s funny that the story acknowledged he was a pretty terrible villain of the week and came up with a funny solution for that

Which leaves us with a happy ending, as our heroes leave this zone to celebrate. I guess you could say this is the first proper story with the Freedom Fighters being on the run, since the last issue seemed to belong earlier in the timeline than it appeared. This is a perfectly serviceable oneshot story without needing to be more than that, but I already feel like I’m ready for them to dive back into bigger stories

[the-witchhunter]

Danny watched as a blond man walked out of the... maintenance closet? At least that’s what the plaque on the door said. 

He didn’t recognize him. That’s not that unusual, he can’t be expected to remember every single person, but Danny is certain that he has never seen him before. The man looked around for a second, seeming almost confused before shrugging and walking up to the counter and ordering Nasty Deluxe combo. The accent sounded British, and Danny was sure he had never met this man before.

So why was he giving Danny a weird feeling?

It was something dark, oppressive, and almost oily. It lingered after the man got to close. Whoever this man was, he wasn’t a ghost, but Danny wasn’t sure if he was entirely human. 

Then the Brit looked right at Danny. The man grabbed his tray and strolled over to Danny’s table and stood there for a moment.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“I’m actually waiting on some friends.” Danny lied.

“Then let me keep you company until they get here.” The man grinned as he sat down.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“I don’t believe so spooks. I think I would have remembered a fellow like you. Here, my card.” The man pulled a business card out from his rumpled trench coat and slid it across the table. Danny cautiously took it.

“John Constantine, Occult detective, master of the dark arts, and... petty dabbler?”

“That’s me, but you can call me John, mister?”

“Danny, just Danny.”

“Well Mr. Just-Danny. Mind telling me why you were staring me down?”

“I was-”

“Don’t lie now, you’re not good at it, and you weren’t exactly subtle mate. So take it from the top.”

“I really wasn’t!”

“Let me give you some advice. Never play poker, you don’t have a knack for bluffing.”

“Okay, fine. I was looking at you, so what?”

“I want to know why.”

“You came out of a maintenance closet.”

“Ah, fair enough.” The man sat in silence for a minute before taking a bite of his burger. “Not nearly as bad as I thought it would be.” he mused.

“Why would it be bad?”

“Danny, the place is called Nasty burger, that doesn’t exactly instill confidence,”

“Yet you still ordered.”

“That I did.” The silence stretched on for a moment as the two sat there, munching their burgers and staring at each other. Danny knew the other man still wanted something from him. There was a look in his eyes, like a man concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle. Danny didn’t like the way he could tell when he managed to make a couple pieces fit.

“Why do you feel like that?” Danny asked, surprising himself.

“Like what?”

“Weird.” John cocked his eyebrow. “Like a dark cloud. Something that clings to you and sets my teeth on edge.”

“Hmmm, well, that could be a couple of things. Maybe it’s the demon blood in my veins.”

“You’re part demon?”

“No.”

“But you said-”

“More like a transfusion. Just something that keeps my healthy in my old age. So yes, it could be that, or, more likely it has to do with all the charms and wards on me and the fact you’re dead.”

“I’m not--” 

“Can it. We’ve already been through all this, you’re a shite liar.”

“... how did you know?” 

“You’re not the first ghost I’ve met, maybe the first one that’s still walking around living, but not my first ghost.”

“Why are you here?”

“Took a wrong turn and ended up here.”

“Yeah right.”

“Believe what you like, but you mind telling me what’s going on around here? This whole place feels like playing with a Ouija board in a cemetery, and that probably means it’s about to be my problem.”

“Why would that be your problem?”

“You read the card.”

“Because you’re an occult detective?”

“Because I’m a petty dabbler, with a habit of walking right in the middle of huge messes in need of a bit of cleaning.”

“You think you can fix things?”

“Depends on what needs fixed.” John looked up and cursed. ‘Can we talk about this elsewhere? My ex just walked in.” Danny looked around confused. The only new person in the store was...

“Johnny! Is that you? I haven’t seen you since college! When we went ghost hunting with Vladdie in that haunted house?” Danny stared on in horror as the man if front of him slumped forward and sighed,

“Hi Jacky. It’s been a while.”

Short DPXDC Prompts #719

Constantine opens a door in the House of Mystery and walks into a Nasty Burger

[the-almighty-gob-john-langley]

The Enemy Within.

The Enemy Within.

Be honest, the world is screwed, isn't it? Fings ain't what they used to be, and all that. If you've lived for any length of time and have witnessed how much the world has changed for the worse over the past twenty-four years, you'll catch my drift, as they say. As you will have no doubt noted from my previous blog post - 'Pussies Galore'- and those before it, I'm not over enamored with the millennials, and their progeny.

I guess, today I want to talk about the growing face of Islam on this planet as a first point, and then segue back into this new age of the millennial and offspring. As with most of my posts, I start off with the outline of an idea and then commence a journey of mystery, whereby, I haven't the faintest idea as to what the outcome will be. I just hit the keys and autopilot provides the context in whatever form it takes. Another way of putting it would be that a variety of news sources and public opinion provide each piece of a jigsaw puzzle I fit together in such a way that the finished item provides me with a satellite view of the world below.

Right now I see a planet in an equal amount of pieces as the puzzle before me that matches the picture on the surface, and it isn't in any way good for humanity. It reminds me of many years back when I was trying my hand at being a bus conductor in Aldershot for a few weeks. I say few weeks because 05.30 starts and me simply didn't get on during that part of my life. Anyway, they still don't, and what's more to the point is that my trainer was a guy named Keith; and this is something that's stuck with me like glue ever since, he said, because he was rather biblical at times, that there was a paragraph, I believe, within the Bible stating that an army would eventually rise powerful from the East and, I'm paraphrasing, seek to conquer the world.

Anyone who knows their Bible back to front may have far more knowledge than this particular lapsed Catholic tapping away here and now. However, being as far distanced from Catholicism as Bristol is from Bejing I'm more inclined to believe that in this instance, my own personal biblical scepticism is slowly igniting from its back burner position, and the global fan has started to spin, with particles of Islamic State shit flying around the world and landing in too many countries for me to be in any way comfortable with. Admittedly, in some minds I could have phrased that better, and am I therefore apologetic in any way? Absolutely bloody not!

To be absolutely clear, I have nothing against the Islamic religion per se. As with most world religions their believers are by nature good, decent people who work hard, are family-orientated, and believe in goodness and kindness to all in the name of their prophet, Allah. But, like fundamental Christians, some take their beliefs to the extreme. You see, religion in this century is like a bad photocopy. The further it is away from the original the harder it becomes to read, and is therefore open to some very distorted misinterpretations, of which, I suggest, the fast-growing Islamic faith has become far more radical than any other, in most certainly my time.

Like myself, you've more than likely noticed how the term 'invasion' has become increasingly frequent in our terminology when referring to migrants entering British shores. The 'illegals' who skirt normal border controls as seen at airports and ferry terminals and become unaccounted for - nearly all males with no documentation that would prove age or identity, and it doesn't take too much of a stretch to open our eyes further than England to see that the same is happening in most other countries of Europe, and beyond. Look, you know as well as I do that migration from one country to another is nothing new where humans are concerned, it's been going on since time immemorial. However what's happening currently could be described as wholly disproportionate, and with good reason. So, I get it when people use the word 'invasion'. I can understand when people become angry and frustrated because of the additional pressures put upon our infrastructures to a point that we can least afford, and this is where I believe the millennials and their progeny have a lot to answer for that the Blair government opened Pandora's Box to find.

It was under that governance Britain flung open its arms to all and sundry. "Britain is open" it was said, and that was it. Like January sale time they came in droves from abroad, and we welcomed those with skills and talents that would benefit our economy by settling here and raising families. Nothing wrong with that, you'd say, and I would agree. Well, to a point. Ask anyone who lived through the Second World War and survived, and you'd no doubt be told in no uncertain terms that Britain had a backbone then. It was a proud nation with people who fought for their country and won against the aggressor, and, as I've said in my book 'The Sexual Philanthropist' (published on Amazon, because there's nothing quite like a direct plug) people knew what hardship, and I mean 'real' hardship was. Ask those same people now, and you'll no doubt be told the same country that they were proud of has gone to the dogs, and from being a wealthy country that supported its people we have now become spineless; arguably one of the poorest, and no longer care.

We once had a military force made up of all the services. Admittedly previous wars have necessitated conscription, but look at us now, we could barely fight our way out of a paper bag if this country found itself at war with Russia, China, or the full force of the Islamic State that's more than likely our greatest threat and brings us slam, dunk, right back to illegal migration and the potential enemy within. Of course, it would be ludicrous to suggest that every illegal migrant that steps onto our beaches is an Islamic extremist, or has the potential to become one. Conversely, with no identification to show on their arrival, we have absolutely no idea as to who is entering this country, or what their real motivation is for doing so. Let's face it, any line can be spun when well rehearsed from where it originated, right? 

I'm sure we would all like to believe that even those who have entered legally, and settled with families, who drive taxis, work in our restaurants and takeaways, are university students, or lecturers, and engage in other lines of legitimate employment aren't sympathetic to the Islamic State? Don't believe me? Okay, look online for the propaganda videos where Islamic scholars speak between themselves and with other scholars in broadcast interviews as to how Islamic State infiltrates every aspect of both British and European nations alike.

Be my guest, and Google search the problems our European counterparts are experiencing with migration - the fights, looting, riots, sexual offenses, and other criminal activities that are taking place because of migrants choosing to ironically leave the hell holes of their own countries to replicate the same in the European countries they have moved to.

Again, I'm making it very clear that not all migrants are of the Moslem faith, as many are not. However, take to Google once more and you will find videos of Moslem groups, in some cases numbering hundreds, taking their prayers on the streets. Peaceful, law-abiding, and wishing no harm to anyone Muslims abide by the teachings of their prophet Allah in everyday life. Yet, take a look at Birmingham recently, where shopkeepers are being intimidated by fellow Moslems into removing bottles of Coke from their shelves because of the Gaza conflict, and tell me the lava isn't beginning to trickle out from the mouth of the Islamic State volcano. Further abroad, read reports of Islamic intervention in other countries, such as drones being flown into parts of Pakistan, aside from what's happening in the Middle East right now, and terrorist activities stopping goods from reaching other parts of the world by sea.

Meanwhile, back in our country, we have Millennials and their Gen X and Z progeny assuming in complete naivety and misguided optimism that somehow it will all stop if they either march through our streets - that in their blind innocence somehow delusionally believe that Hamas aren't jumping for joy by all the publicity they're being given, or that conflict can be abated by talking to their leaders. Get fucking real! 

These people are the same Islamic terrorists who, in parts of Africa think nothing of burning down Christian churches, massacring villages, raping and murdering women, recruiting men and children by force to become their soldiers, or face immediate death. Of course, we don't have to think about such things while we live in comfortable abodes, with central heating; a cushy lifestyle by comparison; watch Love Island and the soaps; take summer holidays, or attend Glastonbury.

As long as it's not on the news we don't much care unless we have a particular interest. In pretty much the same way the millennials and Gen progeny don't really care about the defense of this country. Yet, if only in voice alone they'll happily, and without a second thought given, defend a Middle Eastern country run by a terrorist regime - oblivious to the fact that the overarching Islamic State, of which Hamas is part, is slowly building a global army all over Europe, including here in the UK.

Like it, or not, we are on the cusp of a war that will see the slow build-up of terrorist activity over here that will make the Ariana Grande atrocity look like a practice run, and apart from the limited military and police resources we have, do you, or have you any idea what will happen? Well, let me tell you. All your pacifist-type tree huggers, millennials, and their progeny will either be hiding in their wardrobes with a thirty-six pack of their favourite loo roll or running out on the streets waving any white piece of material they have to hand because they all have a mental health issue, while the law-abiding, peace-loving Moslems most of us know will be found dead. Never say never.

[astranva]

Sunny Sandwiches

Word Count: +600

Category: Pure fluff

Warning: Nothing

Summary: Sweet Stems!Deaf!Harry and Y/N enjoying a day out while being sickingly in love.

Italics are British Sign Language. x

..

Harry was a goner. 

By the way his heart was thumping, and by the clammy palms and butterfly-sheltering stomach, he knew he’d fallen in love with you again and again and as much time passed.

His lips were set in a smile, eyes on your lips as you enunciated the words you signed to him, telling him about your day at work.

“Huge project,” you signed and talked.

Harry watched you bite your lip–in fact, Harry watched you bite the left side of your bottom lip and begin to tap lightly on your thigh, and he knew you were finding difficulty with signing a word. 

Your eyes looked up at the sky in thought as you both were sat outside, on top of a red checkered blanket, trying to remember if you knew how to sign the word “project”.

Harry tapped your hand, gaining your attention before signing, “Write it for me.”

You let out a small breath, looking at him with a smile at how he understood you. 

So you did. You unlocked your phone and opened your notes, writing the 7-lettered word for him. 

“Projeht,” he breathed out in a mumble before looking at you and signing the word carefully.

You mimicked him twice, looking at him to make sure you got it right.

Harry nodded, moving closer to you to bring you to his side in a hug, placing a kiss on your head. 

Still in his arms, you looked up at him with a smile, taking him in. Feeling your eyes on him, Harry looked down at you with a smile that mirrored your own. Your skin glowed under the sun, green grass complimenting the scenery as if you were a vision out of a dream.

“I love you,” you said, knowing that he could read your lips.

He hummed, leaning down to place his soft lips against yours in a gentle, momentary kiss that had your skin feeling hot and your stomach to flutter with butterflies. 

“I love you,” he mouthed, eyes set on your lips before he pressed his on them again.

Your hand moved to his face, softly caressing his warm skin before your thumb grazed his cheek. 

He wanted nothing more in his life.

You were in his arms, intertwined together like two jigsaw pieces of a puzzle you both didn’t care to step back and observe as long as you stuck together. You were outside, surrounded by all the grass and flowers that he could name one by one and nerd out to, fully knowing that you would be interested in all that he had to sign and say.

He watched you that day. He watched you give him the sandwich you had prepared for him, absentmindedly putting your hand under his chin as you let him take a bite from yours. 

He watched you take a deep breath in with a grin on your glowing face, and he felt funny at how he just knew that it meant you had something exciting to share.

“I have four days off next week,” you shared with a grin.

Harry’s eyes widened and his face lit up with a gasp as you nodded eagerly at him.

“Means I’m going to see your beautiful face more,” he signed, chuckling when he watched you get bashful as you gave a shrug and avoided his eyes, biting the right side of your bottom lip slightly. His thumb grazed your bottom lip for a short moment before giving you a soft kiss. 

“Harry,” you called before pecking his lips and pulling away slightly, “Are you going to eat your sandwich?”

[themaresnest-dumblr]

But are you referring to the film or the animated version (the latter since renamed as 'Journey Back To Oz' - and which took four years of legal wrangles before anyone could see it!), both of which had slightly diverging storylines?

The film version was on a road to a loser from the off when the scandal broke about the person operating Tik Tok's mechanical body - Michael Sundin - had just been fired from 'Blue Peter' (one of Britain's biggest children's TV shows) owing to his sexual proclavities off screen - contrary to the myth, it was not because he was gay, otherwise most of British children's telly stars would have been booted long ago!), more his tendency to being a little too fond of "partying" - he was dead of AIDS three years later, to no one's surprise but himself - if that hadn't got him, his fondness for drink and drugs certainly would have (typical Geordie!)

Matters weren't helped with Blue Peter co-star Janet Ellis having also been just sacked for being the good time that was had by all off-screen, and was now pregnant with the future Sophie Bexter Ellis. She also did the very popular show 'Jigsaw' and it was a matter of considerable embarrassment to Auntie Beeb at the time.

But the biggest problem was the editing. The version so often seen today had stuff which the original cinematic edit had cut out - even today when it appears on certain TV channels there's chunks cut out for the easily triggered which completely bumnuggeted up the plot (and so the channel can show more adverts - ho hum ...).

The 1980s were a weird time for children's movies and animation. Don Bluth was about to get his arse kicked for 'Secret Of Nimh' and 'The Black Cauldron', and Jim Henson for 'Labyrinth'. Despite 'Watership Down' resetting the bar, movie executives still weren't willing to accept how dark you could go with media aimed at kids - their bottle would crash at the last minute, changes made, and what was left was what today we'd call 'jump scares', whereas 'Watership Down', in all its death obsessiveness took kids swiftly but gently into a world of nature red in tooth and claw and broadened their minds enough to accept all its horrors.

Think how long it took for 'Where The Wild Things Are' to make the big screen, decades after the books and even a musical version had been triumphs at the box office! Reason? In case it traumatised kids. Go figure ...

The Oz books themselves are pretty dark, and far from the jolly camp ride of the 1939 movie where the legendary Margaret Hamilton was just about the only one playing it by the book.

Fairuza Balk of course really earned her candystipe goth wings in her childhood, first with this movie and later as Mildred in the TV movie version of The Worst Witch with Tim Ten Million Teeth Curry.

watched return to oz. never seen it before. never been a big fan of oz media in general and this is the first one i’ve really particularly liked. can’t believe the reception it got back in its day. it’s a shame, i think i would have really liked it as a kid especially

[hatchetfieldtheories]

Nightmare Time Season 2 - What do the Cryptic Clues mean?

Just over a week ago, things were vaguely normal. Work was busy, I was tired, and this blog posted either a normal or ridiculous theory every now and then while I waited for life to settle down a bit again.

Then a blue N appeared.

And well, you have all witnessed the carnage that followed.

So we have spent a week piecing together the clues, blaming the bees, having meltdowns over green As, and working out timezone differences. Now we have a complete jigsaw puzzle giving us a whole bunch of clues. Layers upon layers of clues.

So my thoughts are below. They're very loose and speculative at the moment, but that's the fun of it! Last time I did a theory like this was before Nightmare Time Season 1 and I was pretty bad at it - so you know... I can only go up!

The Clues:

1 - Blue

Pictures: Bee and honeycomb; old barn or pot farm; boat on a lake; birds; honey

Phrases: Honey Queen; Perky’s Buds

This is the row that I think is giving us two different storylines, “Honey Queen” and “Perky’s Buds”.

Honey Queen - as a few people have mentioned is likely a reference to the Hatchetfield Honey Festival. Now when I hear the phrase Honey Queen, I imagine something similar to a May Queen, who is a girl picked to front a May Day parade. But this is Nightmare Time, so I also immediately thought of something similar to Carrie happening - though maybe with bees, or honey? I also think the boat relates here, and will link us to the Monroes somehow.

Perky’s Buds - I think this has a double meaning. Obviously it’s likely a reference to Emma’s pot farm, and is a FANTASTIC name for such. But I also think its going to mean Emma is going to meet some - not very pleasant characters. Now remember, Blinky is always watching, and has feathered sniggles. I think the birds in the image are Blinky watching what Emma is up to - they become her “buds” - though she isn’t happy about it.

2 - Green

Pictures: Woodcutting axe; canoe on a lake; cabins in woods; roasting marshmallows on a campfire; leather work

Phrases: Abstinence Camp

Oh, Abstinence Camp - this is the one most people seem most excited for as I’m sure we’re all seeing that possible connection to our longed for Nerdy Prudes. Abstinence Camp makes me think of typical teen slasher movies of the mostly 90s, but 70s and 80s also. Plus the axe is likely a reference to the one character I have been waiting for for SO long - Lumber-Axe the Mad Woodsman. Is he the killer in the woods killing off the horny young adults? There is also the leather work image, which I reverse searched to try and get a better image of it and found the original image, but it didn’t tell me much more than “leather work”.

However it is also important to note the canoe on the lake, considering Deb’s family own a lakehouse, which is where the infamous party during Watcher World takes place.

3 - Purple

Pictures: Musician on a stage; sewer or portal; jukebox; wedding rings; diner

Phrases: Killer Track Daddy

Yes, hello, please be about Miss Holloway. I don’t have much to say on the name, Killer Track Daddy, except I think again we’re getting a double meaning. Killer as in death, sure, but also Killer in the same way Bill S Preston Esquire and Ted Theodore Logan might say it. Which is why I am getting the 80s vibes from this and immediately going to Miss Holloway.

There is the theory that Miss Holloway was a star in the 80s (Tiffany) and has time travelled to now. Maybe the sewer is related to that time travel. The wedding rings are interesting, and @donteatthefishtacos mentioned the idea that Miss H and Wilbur Cross clearly have a long history - make of that what you will.

4 - Red

Pictures: A scantron exam sheet; lockers; a roller disco; fire; an arcade machine

Phrases: Yellow Jacket

This is the one that makes me scratch my head the most. We're obviously in a high school, though do teens still roller disco? Teens, please let me know. So maybe this could also be set in a different time period. I mentioned that when I read Yellow Jacket my mind immediately went to a varsity jacket, because I am british and my only knowledge of american high schools is Saved by the Bell and Mean Girls. I'm assuming its an accurate representation.

Now I know by the video Matt posted we've seen Hatcherfield's school colours, but I still think there's gonna be something in the varsity jacket idea. Plus, yellow - tinky - time travel. Which would explain the roller rink.

The fire makes me think something might have burnt down, like the roller rink. And maybe something was built on top of it? Like the Starlight. The arcade machine however? Maybe we'll see Pizza Petes in more than one story, but one of the stories will just be a background storyline, like in Black Friday - and then we learn about the real horrors of Pizza Petes in another story.

5 - Magic Letters

Nibbly Must Eat

Its very possible this is its own story, in which case - NIBBLY!!!!

With the image Dylan posted of Nick with a pretzel surrounded by game machines, I am indeed getting FNAF vibes, and god love us if Nibbly is haunting a pizza place.

I also saw this post by @themystifier about how Pizza Pete might be similar to Uncle Wiley, but like. What if he is Uncle Wiley. What if this is another Wilbur part? We see him as Uncle Wiley, we see him as the Wiggly delivery man, we hear him as the announcer at Watcher World. So what if this is another role?

6 - The Vertices

The Monarch is Now Vexed

I fully anticipate a new Being who is the parent of the LiB and Webby. They're Lords, but this is a Monarch.

I've also decided the Monarch is Nick, as his only part in the Nightmare Time intro is during “Daddy's Gonna Get Ya.”

Some other interesting theories (not anywhere near all the ones I wanted to include - anything I have reblogged I have loved, but these are just some notable ones I found)

Odd One Out @sidekickajustim

Gemini Home Entertainment Vibes @vaguely-functional-directions and @ifduckislordthenheavenisapond

Honey Queen Melissa @infected-hive

Post By Post Breakdown @awigglycultist

[russilton]

Hiya! I am loving this Rebull!George au! I literally love reading anything about it! I see that you keep saying that interacting and answering questions is helping you flush out the story!? - Is that true? If so is there anything you need to flush or just generally need to write about? Would love to hear anything and everything about this fic!

(This is mainly my way of getting more snippets and spoilers from you 😂)

It really does help!

@thatsmemate can attest after 5 years of knowing me, I am one chatty fucker. I don’t really know when to shut up. Especially when I’m asked to comment on things. My brain is full of opinions only I get to hear and that’s frankly a pain sometimes. How she tolerates me when I can’t and I spend 24/7 with me is astounding . I adore her. The first fic I wrote was directly into her DM’s. I didn’t even realise it was one till she smacked it on a Gdoc and edited it for me… she’s been my no 1 since the beginning hahah.

Gushing aside, it’s a bit like using prompts to put a puzzle together. It’s not a magic cheat code, spamming “okay but what next” doesn’t yield much, BUT getting asked questions? That does. Building a big story like RB George is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, I have a photo of the end result, I can build up the outline alone, but then I’ve got an empty box, and a collection of blank pieces. While I can work it out alone, having someone hold up a piece and go “hey, where does this go?” Helps prompt my brain to start finding the slot for that one specific piece. In the same way, someone going “so are there any red pieces?” I can start looking for red parts, then arranging them in a place that fits. Someone going “what next” can sometimes leave me stuck because there are so many choices .

At the end of the day tho, the final step? Only I can do that. And that requires a sit down and intense focus, but the bigger grid vaugely placed pieces I have, the better.

Redbull au spoilers below the cut, but the boring kind, plot notes and race result graphs!

But there isn’t much left to go plot wise! I have the whole story split into 4 arcs, I have placed the start and end of those arcs on specific races. I have placed all the points George and Lewis have sex, figured out what kind it is, how it’s initiated, what precedes it, and I have a lot of “this is what Lewis is thinking” notes, and they’re all set to a specific race calendar! For now it’s just filling little bits in and getting started! The only races I’m looking to fill out better are COTA and Turkey, because they’re in the interim period of Lewis approaching Toto about signing George , and the dinner.

I also have some more work to go into their first meetings and races, trying to strike the balance and find the spark point for their relationship is tough, some of it probably won’t come out till I just start the damn thing.

Now here’s some oh so sexy screenshots from my planning documents

Fun fact, the only race with no notes is Qatar (George has signed, but it’s before the break check, I don’t have a lot of ideas as to what could be there atm) , and the race with the most notes is Silverstone ( I am British, they are British, OF COURSE THE DRAMA HAPPENS THERE.)

[scotianostra]

On December 30th 1969 two police officers died of bullet wounds during a raid on a house in Allison Street, Glasgow; a third was wounded.

Police in Glasgow still remember the murder of two officers, when one of their ex colleagues was spotted with a suspicious package after robbing a bank in Linwood. The horrifying case was led by an ex police officer, who was in jail until 2002.

Shortly after 4pm two officers were shot dead by a man seen acting suspiciously outside a flat in Govanhill on the south side of the city.  Their suspect had just taken part in an armed robbery and was carrying the proceeds into the Allison Street tenement in suitcases.

When the two cops followed their man into the ground floor apartment, unaware of the earlier hold-up, he pulled out a gun and shot them dead. The double murder was all the more shocking because it was carried out by a former police officer and colleague.

A few hours later Howard Wilson, married with a young family, was sitting in his police cell in nearby Craigie Street Police Office confessing both murders to his bewildered lawyer Joe Beltrami.

Nineteen years later in his memoir Tales of the Suspected, Beltrami wrote: “As I listened to him. I kept asking myself what could have possessed him.

“He looked more like a businessman than a criminal.”

Wilson had quit the City of Glasgow police in 1968 after 10 years’ service when he failed to get promotion to sergeant.

Instead he opened a greengrocers, The Orchard in nearby Mount Florida. But the outlet, along with another shop he’d bought, was losing money.

His two best friends former prison officer Ian Donaldson, 31, and ex-cop John Sim, 21, both had young families and were also strapped for cash.  During one late evening drinking session they joked about robbing a bank to solve all their financial worries. However, the morning after the night before it began to sound like a plan.

Who would suspect two former cops and a prison officer? They had no criminal records and their fingerprints were not on file. The money would also be used to pay off debts so it would disappear as quickly as it had been stolen.

Thus the pieces of a jigsaw were put in place that would result in a cold blooded double execution almost six months later.

The trio recruited a fourth man – Archibald McGeachie – to be their getaway driver, and bought a Russian pistol from the president of the Bearsden Shooting Club, of which all three were members.  On July 16, dressed in smart suits and carrying briefcases they walked into the British Linen Bank in Giffnock, East Renfrewshire, and escaped with £20,876 (£270,000 now).

All three, however, were broke again by Christmas and, having got away with it once, planned another heist – this time a branch of the Clydesdale in Linwood, Renfrewshire on December 30.

However, McGeachie took cold feet and declined the job of getaway driver, leaving his three pals to do the job on their own.

On December 23, a week before, the second hold up, he disappeared from his home and was never been seen again.

His fellow robbers escaped this time with £14,000 – much of it in silver coins – which later proved significant when they were all spotted by a suspicious Inspector Andrew Hyslop transporting the suitcases.  He recognised Wilson who he had once trained in the use of firearms.

Inspector Hyslop also suspected the trio were carrying stolen whisky, as he didn’t know about the bank robbery. He confronted all three in Wilson’s ground floor flat, having called in reinforcements from Craigie Street.

When the inspector bent down to open one of the cases, his former colleague shot him in the face.  Detective Constable Angus MacKenzie and PC Edward Barnett, were then both shot in the head when they tried to arrest him.

As they fell, Wilson calmly stepped up to DC MacKenzie and shot him again, killing him outright.

His accomplice Donaldson had fled the flat, while Sim watched in horror.  Wilson turned his attention to another former colleague PC John Sellars, who had taken refuge in the bathroom to radio for help but he couldn’t get through the door. Wilson then noticed Inspector Hyslop beginning to move on the floor, and went to finish him off.

A fifth officer, Detective Constable John Campbell flung himself across the hall at Wilson before he could fire again, saving his colleagues’ life.

DC Campbell managed to wrestle the gun from Wilson just as his fellow officers alerted by the sound of gunfire rushed into the flat.

There they found a scene of unimaginable horror. DC MacKenzie had been killed outright while PC Barnett would die five days later in hospital.  

Wilson only seemed to regret only what he had done to DC MacKenzie, whose wife June he knew personally.  As he was led away, he asked the arresting officers if they  would apologise to her on his behalf.

When the three appeared at Glasgow Sheriff Court on February 6, 1970, Wilson admitted the murders of Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett, attempting to murder Inspector Hyslop, threatening to shoot Constable Sellars, and to the bank robberies at Giffnock and Linwood.  A week later, at the High Court in Edinburgh, Wilson was sentenced to life, with a recommendation that he should serve a minimum of 25 years. Donaldson and Sim were given 12 years each for their parts in the robberies.

Later that year it was announced that the Queen had approved awards of the George Medal to Inspector Hyslop and Detective Constable Campbell.  Awards of the Queen’s Police Medal for Gallantry were posthumously awarded to Detective Constable McKenzie and Constable Barnett.  In 1971, PC Sellars was awarded the Glasgow Corporation medal for bravery by the Lord Provost.

Detective Constable McKenzie left a widow, June, and Constable Barnett a widow, Margaret, and two children.

Of the three officers who survived, Inspector Hyslop suffered most as bullet parts had been left deeply embedded in his neck. After many months on sick leave Inspector Hyslop returned to duty.  But the shock of his terrible experience had left him unfit to carry on and in June, 1971, he had to  resign from the force and died on the island of Islay in 2000, aged 74.

In December 2009, on the 40th anniversary of the murders, Alastair organised a memorial service at Linn Crematorium in Castlemilk where the two officers are buried side by side, attended by their widows.

In September 2002, Wilson was finally freed after almost 33 years behind bars despite strenuous objections from the Scottish  Police Federation.

At the time its chairman Norman Flowers, said: “We feel that anyone who murders a police officer should never be released. Life should mean life.”

 More facts about this brutal crime can be found here http://www.policemuseum.org.uk/the-allison-street-police-murders-30-december-1969/