#apparently it came out in 2021

[misscatholmes]

They made a movie about Lori Vallow and it's starring Riley Finn? And Lara?

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

im gonna shit myself i just saw the voting gauntlet results and edeIgard was in round 1 in two brackets and lost both brackets

as ever we keep the edeIgard loses in round 1 legends going hella strong

[lovphobic]

helpp not me geeking out to my mom ab this new book LMAO

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ lips like liquorice, tongue like candy ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : todou aoi x fem!reader, overstimulation, marathon sex, messy sex, praise kink, dirty talk, todo bullying your insides, todo is lowkey an exhibitionist

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i wanted to revamp this old post because i used to be the biggest todo girl back in 2021 so i wanna bring that back

“who’s my good girl? huh? say it, baby, tell me,” todo teases, his strong hands gripping your hips and pulling you back to meet each of his thrusts. the slap of his hips against your ass is rough and unforgiving, and you swear your brain is melting out of your ears.

"'s me, 's me, aoi, 'm your g-good girl," you sob, trying your best to match his thrusts. it's so cute to him, your desperation is apparent in the way your cunt is squeezing around him, trying to handle his thick cock sliding in and out of your walls. the insides of your thighs are absolutely coated in sticky slick, and thick cum, leaking out from around todo's cock and onto your bedsheets. if he was lucky enough, he'd fuck you so good that you forget you just put them on today. 

“h-honey, aoi, babyyy, ‘s too deep," you whimper, one of your hands reaching back to press against his hip. "'m gettin' too loud, aoi, 's too messy! y-you're gonna make me squirt!"

poor thing, you have no idea how loud you've been, do you? todo just felt like he'd be nice and let you try to hide it in that pillow you were hiding your face in. but it did nothing to hide your voice, and nothing to hide the filthy sounds your tight pussy was making as it strangled his cock. there's no way your neighbors haven't heard the wet squelching coming from todo’s cock pounding away at you or the sweet whines and loud moans that manage to slip out of your pretty mouth.

“aww, would that be so bad, dolly? make ‘em jealous they’re not the ones stuffing this sweet little cunt full of cock. look at ya, tryin' to fit it all in...such a greedy hole, can't get enough of my dick or my cum,” todo teases, switching from a quick pace to a hard, deep one, savoring the moans coming from you, his pretty doll.

god, you're just too cute, the way you switch up from being embarrassed and telling him to slow down to being needy and desperate, begging for him to fill you up with his hot load. just the thought of stuffing you with more cum makes him groan, cursin when he feels you squeeze down on him, pretty little hole getting wetter and wetter and—

“oh, babyyy, are you creaming? your cute little pussy creaming on me, baby doll? shit, thought I came again but ’s just you, ’s all you, making a mess of my cock like a good girl.”

you didn’t even notice that todo stops moving, too busy grinding your hips back to find that spot that makes you brainless. your hands are tangled in the sheets as each stroke gets the head of todo’s cock closer and closer to that sweet spot, that you can taste it, you can fucking taste it—

“a-aoi, h-help, please—!”

suddenly, todo’s thick hands grab your plush hips, lifting and angling them up more. not even the pillow muffles how loud you moan as his tip grinds hard against the soft spongy spot inside of you, causing you to finally break. 

“fuck, bunny, you cumming? you’re making such a mess, such a messy bunny,” todo groans, speeding up to fuck you through your orgasm. his eyes roll back as you keen his name, feeling his cock throb inside of you. you make the prettiest sounds, it's actually unfair, cunt sounding just as pretty as more of your creamy cum spills out of you, coating his cock in a milky white sheen.

“you’re soaking the fucking sheets, babe. you gonna, shit, g'nna let me make a mess inside you? hmn? just keep these hips up in the air f'me, dolly, your big guy's gonna keep you full all night long."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[chrissy-kaos]

**Health update**

So I never wanted to make another post like this but here I am.. I was hoping to just get better and never bring it up again.

To get those of you up to speed. I was diagnosed with CKD back in late 2021. I’ve been battling that for a while now. I’m actually doing really well in that regard. During a routine MRI in Nov 2023 for my kidneys we found what looked to be a hepatic steatosis and splenomegaly. It was later determined and I was diagnosed with hepatic tumors and splenomegaly. I also had a fairly large gallstone and what appeared to be a tumor/cyst on my gallbladder. We decided it was just better to remove my GB and the tumors all at the same time. So in January of this year I had laparoscopic cholecystectomy/tumor removal. That’s what the scars on my stomach are from. The tumors were tested and were benign. That was a huge relief. But it left my liver fairly damaged. I wasn’t to concerned about because your liver can and will heal itself. I recovered well and felt great.

Fast forward 9 months. I wasn’t feeling very well. So I made an appointment with my PCP and she wanted me to do a bloodwork panel. This is normal. We actually do blood once a month but really only check kidneys, thyroid, and hormones. So I did the panel and when the test results came in my Dr called me immediately. She ordered another AST/hepatic function panel for my liver, kidneys and pancreas.

After those test results came in she had me come to her office. I was met with her and a Hepatologist. They broke the news to me that unfortunately my liver not doing well according to the bloodwork. My pancreas/kidneys are actually pretty ok rn which is cool. But my total bilirubin is 1.4 mg/dl. At 1.5 mg/dl total bilirubin is where we really start looking at the possibility of Cirrhosis. If you don’t know what that is. Google it. Now I’m not saying I have this rn but it seems to be looking that way 🫤

They were telling me they could see my bilirubin trending up over the course of the past few months of bloodwork. Also previously being diagnosed with Splenomegaly which is a tell tale sign of Cirrhosis apparently. They’re pretty sure I have it or will have it. They want to run more tests and see how bad or good it is and we’ll go from there. It seems like they have a pretty good plan. Also for those of you that are going to say get a second opinion.. I got a second and a third. They said the same thing go figure..

So again I find myself going in and out of the hospital again. I don’t wish this life upon anyone. It’s not fun. Being chronically/terminally ill is no fucking joke. If it’s not one thing it’s another. It’s tiring and I’m soo tired. Honestly I can’t wait until it’s all over.. forever.

Anyway I figured I’d give you a bit of an update on my health and such. A lot of you ask in my DMs. It’s hard to answer everyone so a post like this gets it out there. But yea if you made it this far thank you and I love you 🫶🏻

[petrovna-zamo]

Katya’s Nicole Kidman AMC Ad

[avayarising]

Deaths of Cassandra Cain

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Cass has two very definite deaths and one implied death. She also spent several days in the Spirit World. Total time dead: up to a couple of days, plus Spirit World time.

Verifiable deaths

1. Beaten in the chest by Lady Shiva (Batgirl 1:25, 2002)

Cass asked Lady Shiva (her mother, though at this point she didn’t know that) to train her because she was losing her ability to read body language. Shiva agreed, but in return asked for Cass to come back in a year and duel her to the death. Cass agreed to this. When the time came, they fought on a rooftop, and Shiva quickly killed Cass with what looks like a pre-cordial thump.

Cass was raised to life again by Lady Shiva some unspecified time later through some unspecified technique (though she did say she had prepared for years to be able to do it) involving punching her in the chest again.

Time dead: Unclear, but probably of the order of hours. Since the location where Cass was resurrected was not where she died, Shiva must have had to move her corpse, so probably at least a few hours, plus however long it took for Shiva to do whatever she did to resurrect Cass.

2. Took a sword for someone else (Batgirl 1:72–73, April 2006)

So before Cass was born. David Cain made other attempts at creating the Perfect Warrior, and he started out by taking existing children (from Ra’s Al Ghul) to train, rather than attempting to breed one. One of these became known as Mad Dog: very skilled but almost mindless and uncontrolled. In a forest in the middle of nowhere, he attempted to stab someone, Cass leapt in front, and:

Even though it looks from this picture like that big fat knife goes right through her ribcage, heart, and spine, she still managed to kick Mad Dog in the face before collapsing and dying.

After Cass died, she awoke being carried by Steph.

Steph told Cass something she couldn’t have known (that Blüdhaven had just been destroyed), indicating she was really present and not just a near-death hallucination.

Of course, it later turns out that Steph was never actually dead at all, but at this point in time she is dead, and her presence is meant to be an indicator that Cass is truly dead.

Lady Shiva raised her (again), this time via a Lazarus Pit. (At this point, Cass has only very recently found out that Shiva is her mother.)

Cass came out angry with Pit Madness, but Shiva trapped her in a net and coached her through it. Cass calmed down in a matter of minutes.

Time dead: between several hours and a couple of days (Shiva had to carry her out of a forest on foot and get to the Lazarus Pit before she could resurrect her).

Bonus extra deaths

(Implied, inferrable, ambiguous and arguable deaths)

1. Probably died in Death Metal along with everyone else (Death Metal 7, 2021)

Cass probably died in battle when the Dark Multiverse invaded and destroyed all the worlds of the multiverse. All the remaining heroes came together in a hopeless fight against an army of their worst nightmares, including an apparently never-ending swarm of groblins (mindless evil Jokerised Robins led by the Robin King, an evil child Bruce Robin).

Cass’s death isn’t shown on panel and neither is her dead body, but she is definitely in the group of Bats standing ready to fight (far right, in an oddly ill-fitting Orphan outfit):

And later Evil Child Bruce Robin tells Batman that everyone else is dead, so that seems like Cass is dead too.

On the other hand, Evil Child Bruce Robin probably doesn’t know what’s going on away from his immediate vicinity, so it’s possible that Cass was drawn away during the battle earlier on and is still out there fighting in a different part of the field.

After this, Wonder Woman persuades the Creators to remake the world and everyone is fine again.

Time dead: unclear; might be up to an hour, or longer if it takes longer to remake the world.

2. Perhaps was shot by Lady Shiva at some point (Spirit World 3, 2023)

Thank you to @fantastic-nonsense for pointing this one out! During Cass’s trip to the Spirit World (see below) she was bitten by a kitsune spirit and regained the memory of a previous encounter in the Spirit World when she was dead. The flashback montage panel shows Shiva shooting Cass in the chest, followed by Cass’s revival in the Lazarus Pit in Batgirl 1:73 with its very distinctive hook and chain.

Although it’s most likely that this is just a conflation and reinterpretation of Cass’s previous two deaths and resurrections, the new method of death suggests that this could be an additional, off-panel, death and resurrection.

More details in @fantastic-nonsense’s original commentary here.

Afterlife visits

1. Pulled into the Spirit World (Lazarus Planet: Dark Fate, 2023; Spirit World, 2023)

When the Lazarus Volcano erupts and rains down Lazarus Water on the whole earth, it stirs up a lot of undead. In a graveyard in Gotham, Cass joins John Constantine and Xanthe Zhou (a ’spirit envoy’ who died as a child and was partially resurrected and is now both living and dead) in a fight against hopping vampires (jiang-shi) and a ‘ghost collective’ (a big ball of angry ghosts).

With Constantine’s and Cass’s help, Xanthe exorcises the collective, but on its way out the collective grabs Cass’s ankle and pulls her into the Spirit World with it.

In the Spirit World, she more or less gets adopted by Xanthe’s granny, who has also adopted another ghost, Bowen. (It’s not clear in this panel, but Po Po is tiny and only comes up to Cass’s waist.)

A kitsune spirit she meets there tells her they have met before, when she was dead, though she clearly doesn’t remember her time dead. (The spirit doesn’t clarify which of Cass’s deaths it is referring to, but since she was with Steph all through her second death, it is likely to be her first – but it might be a completely different one; see above.)

Of course, John and Xanthe go in after her and they eventually reunite. After a great quest, the freeing of the ghosts from their collective, and major reorganisation of the politics of the Spirit World, they all leave together through a portal.

Time in afterlife: several days.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[joezworld]

Hey everyone seems real sad for some reason. Could not imagine why.

Anyways if you squint real hard you may notice a similarity to Thomas and the Jet Engine. That is intentional.

You can also squint and notice some similarity to several Traintober prompts. That is intentional.

Also, if you notice any similarity to any of SiF's character names... that's right! That is intentional. I did that and it's on purpose and I'm making fun of them. If you're from SiF either recognize that it was a dumb name or die mad about it.

Pip and Emma at The Top

2021 - The Summer

It was the longest summer since the last one. There weren’t any tourists - obviously - but even the inter-island traffic had died down considerably. The government on the mainland was skittishly enacting and then subsequently revoking plans to allow gatherings again, and the people of Sodor were prudently trying to keep the Island’s activities out of London’s sphere of notice. 

As events were curtailed and people limited their own travel, the railway cut back on services, as they’d done several times before. Pip and Emma were the first to be relegated to the yards; while they could run a much shorter train - and often did - a shortage-related spike in the price of diesel fuel meant that it was more economical for James or Henry to take the two diesels' trains instead. 

Henry had tried to make sense of how the economics on that worked out, but numbers were not his strong suit, and so he instead passed along his sympathies every time he passed the twins in the yard. 

James (and no-one else) thought that he was being rather magnanimous by not endlessly laughing about how he was cheaper to run than a diesel. Several cutting responses had been prepared if he ever got too full of himself, but shockingly he’d kept the snickering to a bare minimum. 

As the days stretched on into a week, and then two, a bigger problem soon began to present itself:

“I’m bored, Pip!”

“Me too!” 

Pip and Emma were getting restless.

“WILL YOU TWO KEEP IT DOWN?! IT IS THREE IN THE MORNING!”

And they were more than willing to make that everyone else’s problem. 

-

A few days later, and the diesels were overjoyed when an inspector came to them with instructions to report to the works. 

Equally overjoyed were the engines in the big shed. 

-

Pip and Emma arrived at the works in a right state, having been held up by trackwork along the main line. 

“Two hours! Can you believe it Emma?”

“I don’t like running light engine, they can push us around too much.”

“Right? We’re express engines, not a train of old rubbish!” “I think they prioritized the rubbish train over us, if that smell at Kellsthorpe Road was anything to go by.”

“Ugh!”

-

Mr. Tedfield, the Works Manager, eventually arrived, bringing an end to their complaining. “Right you two. Seems like we’ve got some work for you.”

“Here?” They chorused. 

“No,” he said quickly. “But the work is going to be a lot different from your usual job, and we’re gonna have to do some modifications.”

“Oh no,” Pip cried. “It’s going to be buffers, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?” The man was baffled. 

“It’s the only thing it could be, sir.” Emma explained. “That’s what they said on the Eastern Region, back in the 1980’s. ‘Just some little modifications!’ and they came back from Derby with the ugliest buffers ever!” 

“It was a hatchet job!” Pip agreed. “All their lower valances, gone!” 

“Easy, easy!” Mr. Tedfield yelped, not expecting that sort of response. “I’m sure that we can do a better job than that!”

“Promise?” they said in worried unison.

“Promise.”

-

A few days later, and the twins were relieved to discover that the works were as good as their word. Unlike the Eastern Region “hatchet jobs,” they still sported all their bodywork. Holes had been drilled through the lower valances, and buffers, couplings, and air hoses now poked through. The fibreglass was a little rough around the edges, but everyone agreed that it could also look a great deal worse. (Apparently, custom fibreglass was one of the only things the works staff couldn’t do in-house, and there was a concerning amount of murmuring from the staff about how they’d change that.)

Rolling out into the sun for the first time since they were “slightly modified,” they blinked the light from their eyes to find Mr. Tedfield, the Fat Controller, and another man who they didn’t know waiting for them. 

“Well,” Started Mr. Tedfield. “I’m glad to see that our concerns were unfounded.” 

The twins knew he was being diplomatic in front of the Fat Controller. He’d already said “I told you so!” several times earlier in the day. 

He continued. “So now we should probably tell you what we would like you to do!”

“Because somebody forgot to mention it earlier…” The other man muttered under his breath. 

The Fat Controller looked from one man to the other, and shook his head slightly. “Pip, Emma, as I’m sure you’re already aware, we are not going to be running the Express to London anytime soon. So, with that in mind, you two are going to be assigned to mixed traffic work until passenger numbers allow us to put you back into normal service.”

“Mixed traffic work?” They said as one. 

“Oh yes!” The Fat Controller looked quite pleased with himself. “We have quite a lot of cargo traffic coming in through the ports right now, and you two will help take the strain off everyone else.”

The man they didn’t know coughed slightly. 

“Of course, how foolish of me,” The Fat Controller rolled his eyes. “I also recognize that you two have some… special abilities that the other engines lack, namely your high-speed capabilities. With that in mind, Mr. Hargrave, from the coach and wagon department here at the works, has had an idea.”

“Yes, right.” Mr. Hargrave said with pride. “So, back when we first started coming back to work after the lockdowns, the government gave us a whole pile of Levelling-Up money, to “get us back on our feet.”” He paused, bouncing on his heels. “Thing is, we’d already fixed up everything beforehand, because we didn’t want anyone locked away in the works during the end of days with their bits in pieces, so we didn’t have anything to spend it on, but we had to spend it, otherwise they’d take it back!”

“Government logic at its finest…” Mr. Tedfield said under his breath. 

“Ain’t that the truth.” Mr. Hargrave agreed. “So anyways, we decided to just make everything as perfect as we could make it.”

He stopped for a moment, long enough for the Fat Controller to look at him. “Such as…?”

“Hm? Oh! Yes, the container wagons!” He said all at once. “We took all the container wagons that were sitting around idle - and some other stuff besides - and we took them and fitted high speed bogies and bearings to them.”

Pip blinked slowly. “High speed bogies?”

“That’s right! They ride like coaches now.” He said with childlike joy. “And they won’t weigh much more than them either, so it shouldn’t be much trouble for you two. High speed containers, all the way to the mainland!”

Pip looked at him, then at the Fat Controller. “Sir, why are we doing this?”

The Fat Controller looked much more reasoned. “Quite a few companies are willing to pay a premium for their shipments to arrive as quickly as possible. There’s a lot of congestion at the bigger ports in the south, and Liverpool is operating almost at capacity, so we have an opportunity to get some very lucrative traffic.” He smiled knowingly. “And if we play our cards right, some of the companies, like Amazon, might build a few warehouses just across the channel on the mainland, and then we can serve those in perpetuity.” 

The twins slowly digested this. “But sir, will it matter if we can go that fast?” Pip asked. “Once we cross the bridge, we’ve got to deal with Network Rail, and they don’t know anything.”

The Fat Controller looked as pleased as punch. “But you’re not dealing with Network rail.” He said with a satisfied smile. “Our contract for this ‘express freight’ is to get it as far as Barrow-in-Furness. If Freightliner or Colas Rail happen to be tardy after that…” he made a gesture with his hands. “That’s of no importance to us.”

Pip and Emma blinked slowly. “So, you want us to go as fast as we can?” Pip said with an expression that was rapidly passing “gleeful.”

“I do.” The Fat Controller agreed, before walking away.

---

Across the Island, the trucks and wagons shuddered.

--

A few weeks later

Pip and Emma fit in surprisingly well on goods trains, and could soon be found on everything from trundling pickup goods to the Flying Kipper. The Works really had made every truck as “perfect” as they could make them, and so every train, regardless of what it was or who was pulling it, was rolling on new bearings and freshly-trued wheels. Bear, BoCo, James, and Henry claimed it was some of the easiest work they’d ever had, and even the trucks agreed with them!

Pip and Emma, however, were mostly focused on one thing: speed. They’d been promised the ability to go as fast as they liked, but there was a significant obstacle to it:

“Oh come on! How long can it take to re-lay one set of points!”

The Permanent Way and Signaling departments had also received a great deal of this “use it or lose it” government funding, and were furiously working to replace, re-lay, and re-wire seemingly the entire island. 

Fortunately for the twins, the work was almost at an end, and as the summer began to wane, they soon found that more and more of the line was back up to full capacity. Shortly thereafter, the “Container Express” was a regularly scheduled train on the main line, running twice a day between Tidmouth Harbour and the yard in Barrow. Keen-eyed observers of the timetable would note that it was the exact same pair of slots previously occupied by the Wild Nor’Wester, which had last run in March of 2020. 

The Fat Controller promised anyone who asked him that it was absolutely a temporary measure, and most believed him, save for one group in particular…

“Lads,” A voice murmured in the container yard one morning. “I think this is forever… ‘s our purgatory for whatever it is we’ve done to the engines.”

“Nah, this ain’t purgatory,” whispered another, as a two-toned horn blasted in the distance. 

“Hi everyone!” “Ready for the trip?”

“This is hell. We’re in hell.”

  -

A few days later - Barrow

The lift bridge over the Walney Channel operated very differently than it did pre-COVID. A train would arrive at the Vicarstown side of the bridge, then it would lower. It would stay down while the engines were turned round, or were uncoupled from their train and connected to a new one. Then the train would leave, and the bridge would go back up. 

This happened two to four times a day, now that the lockdowns had lessened, but there was one constant - the same train that left the island would be the one to return to it. 

Then, one evening in the late summer, the bridge rolled down for a train coming from the mainland. 

There was a very familiar two-toned honk-honk as it rolled over the bridge and onto the Island, wheels click-clacking across the bridge joints in great numbers. 

The rear power car vanished with a roar of sound and a whoosh of diesel exhaust, and then the train was gone into the distance. 

The bridge slowly cycled back up. There was a new train on the Island of Sodor. 

-

The next morning 

Pip and Emma woke up much later than usual - the main line was undergoing its final “track geometry inspection”, and freight services had been curtailed for most of the day to allow the inspection to be done as quickly as possible. 

Eventually, they were rolled out of the diesel shed mostly on BoCo’s urging, (“You two are not allowed to get bored in here.”) and made their way to the platforms of the big station. 

“Oh, this is weird!” Pip exclaimed as she backed down onto a set of coaches. She and Emma had been coupled back-to-back for over a month now, and it seemed like nobody was in a hurry to position them “normally” for a short run down to Suddery and back. 

“Not as weird as your- oh my goodness it’s you two.” James started his sentence with a considerable amount of venom, but squeaked halfway through his sentence before stopping altogether. 

“What was that?” They both looked at him funny. 

“Nothing!” He said quickly. “Nothing at all. I, um, I thought that you were somebody else!” 

He vanished as though by magic, and neither Pip, Emma, nor the coaches had any idea of what to say until the guard waved his flag. 

-

Making their way down the line, they encountered several other engines, each of whom gave them some kind of funny look. As they headed down Edward’s branch line, it was all they could talk about.

“Maybe it’s just how strange we look back-to-back?”

“It can’t be, Pip! You saw how Edward looked! I think he was actually upset!”

“Goodness, I hope it wasn’t anything we did.”

“I don’t think so. They all seemed to stop once they saw us.”

“...”

“What?”

“I just had a thought.”

“What?”

“Who looks like us, but can make everyone hate them in no time flat?”

“Oh no!”

-

Later, they arrived back at Wellsworth station with the return service. The train terminated here, instead of returning to the big station, so once the passengers had disembarked, they had to shunt the coaches out of the way. It was somewhat novel for them, and Pip took great joy in being shown how a shunter’s pole worked. Emma, on the other buffer, was busy eavesdropping; Edward was getting ready to bank Bear’s goods train up Gordon’s Hill, and he was fuming about something to the stationmaster. 

“-that damn banana shows its face here again I will show them what for!” he hissed sternly, before puffing away in a huff.

The stationmaster didn’t say anything that Emma could hear, but he seemed to look very intently at the signals outside the station. There was one signal set for an arriving train. 

Emma didn’t like that, it felt very ominous. “Pip, look sharp. I think we’re going to have trouble soon.”

Pip didn’t have time to respond, because at that instant, the two-tone horn of an HST rang out in the near distance. The rails hummed with the noise of an approaching train, and a 5-coach HST set pulled into the station. 

The train was safety-yellow, and bristled with cameras, sensors, lasers, and measurement equipment of all kinds. Large “NETWORK RAIL” logos were plastered on every coach and both power cars, right next to the words “NEW MEASUREMENT TRAIN.”

 It was glossy. It was shiny. It was freshly washed. 

“Oh, must we dawdle around this dump? I know what sort of conditions this lot keeps!”

It was rude. 

“Will you stop already? I would like to not be thrown off this island, thanks.” 

Well, half of it was. 

Pip closed her eyes to steady herself. Emma ground her teeth audibly. Of course it was them. 

Quickly, quietly, they tried to reverse out of sight, but the camera-studded train saw all, and criticised everything. 

“Oh I say!” The lead power car laughed mockingly. “I thought those rumours were wrong but look at that! You two really have been demoted to common shunters!”

“Hi Pip. Hi Emma.” The rear power car said, utterly defeated. 

“Hi John,” They chorused, equally displeased. “Hi, Obs-”

“Do not use that name!” The lead power car snapped brusquely. On his side there was a big brass nameplate that read “The Railway Observer.” “Use my real name.”

“Not this again…” The rear power car moaned. He had “John Armitt” bolted to his side. “I know that you think it sounds better but I promise you it isn’t-”

“I’m sorry,” The lead power car snapped. “But are you undermining me in front of outsiders?”

“They’re our sisters, you numpty.”

“And they shall refer to me by the name of my choice!” 

“It’s a stupid name!” 

“It’s a regal name!” 

Pip and Emma observed the bickering train with muted resignation. “Why couldn’t he have been at Ladbroke Grove?” Pip said to nobody in particular. “Would’ve done the world a favour.”

Emma just wanted to get this over with. The coaches had been safely shunted away, so it was just a matter of getting out of the yard - then they could go down to Tidmouth and get their next train. “And what name would you like us to call you?” She said eventually. 

The lead power car puffed himself up like a self-important cockatoo. “I,” He proclaimed regally. “Am Murgatroyd. It is a noble name, with a rich history, and-” 

Pip almost swallowed her own tongue from the sudden outburst of laughter, while Emma couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. “Oh my god, that is the worst name I have ever heard of,” She said, barely audible over Pip’s gale-force guffaws. “Why would you do that to yourself? Why would you do that to us?” 

Murgatroyd turned red with indignation (which, thanks to his yellow paint, was actually a shade of orange) and started shouting. “How dare you, you- you- you low-class harlot! This is a regal name, chosen to signify-”

“How much of a pretentious twat you are?” John scoffed from the other end of the NMT. “Usually people can tell when you talk.”

The retort that followed was unprintable, and a vicious three-way argument soon struck up, lasting until Pip and Emma left Wellsworth for the harbour at Tidmouth. 

The New Measurement Train left a few minutes after that, an argument trailing in its wake. The yard was silent after that.

BoCo, who had been trying to nap in the shed, looked around the yard. “I don’t think anyone will believe me…” he said to himself. 

-----

At the harbour’s intermodal yard, Pip and Emma found their train already waiting for them… although it was slightly different from usual.

Fifteen container trucks sat mostly empty, with just a few loaded ones up at the front. Ahead of those were two low-loaders, one empty, the other… not. 

“Finally!” Thomas the Tank Engine groused from atop the front low-loader. “It’s been ages!” 

“It’s been two hours.” The low-loader rolled his eyes. “We left at 11:00. It’s barely past one.”

“Well, who asked you?!” 

Pip and Emma were surprised, to say the least. “What’s he doing here?” They asked the yard supervisor. “Can we take him on this train?”

“As a matter of fact,” He consulted his clipboard. “You can. I spoke to the works, and they’ve “improved” some of the flatcars with the high speed bogies they had left over. Should be fine.”

“Should be?” 

“That’s what they said.” He shrugged, flipping through the clipboard to a printout of an email. “They put it in writing.” 

Pip had to squint to see the small text. “I don’t like that they put “It should be fine!” on an official email…”

Behind her, Emma rolled her eyes, in the process noticing something above them. “Wait, what’s that?” 

The supervisor looked up. “Oh, that’s a jet engine for an airplane. Rolls Royce rebuilds them down in Derby.”

“Why is it here? This isn’t the airport.”

“Airport’s closed for a few days because they lost their electric transformer - surprised you didn’t ‘ear about it. Rolls didn’t wanna wait, and we’re quicker than a lorry it seems.” The man smiled at the last part. Everyone in the freight division was very pleased that this “hare-brained, half-baked, absolutely ridiculous” concept (as some “industry observers” had remarked) was proving successful.  

Emma watched as the jet engine was craned onto a flatcar behind Thomas. “Oh great!” He scoffed as it was chained down to the car. “Not only am I getting shuttled around this Island like a piece of lost mail, but now it’s air mail at that?”

“Oh shush!” Pip said, somewhat bemused by the whole situation. “We’ll get you to Barrow double quick!”

“Barrow?! I’m going to the works!” Thomas was irate. 

“If you ever listened,” The low-loader started. “You’d know that they don’t stop there, so we’re going to Barrow, and then back to Crovan’s on the pick-up goods.”

“Oh! Wonderful! I am a lost parcel! This is all Toby’s fault, the square-”

“Thomas,” Emma cut him off kindly. “It’ll be fine. Think about it this way - you can say that you went there on the Express! Won’t that be fun?”

“I’ve been on the express before…” Thomas said darkly.

“See? Then you know how fun it is!” 

Thomas looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could, the shunters allowed Pip and Emma to back down onto the train, and connected the coupling chains and air hoses. 

Emma winked at him reassuringly, something which he felt was only unintentionally patronizing.

And then the train set off for the mainland. 

-

Leaving the port was a slow affair - the container yard was off to one side, and they had to dodge Marina and Salty as they shunted cars into the bulk terminals by the yard throat. There were a lot of low-speed switches to navigate as well, and the train rocked from side to side as they crossed over. Thomas thought about saying he was getting seasick, but chose not to tempt fate after the seventh such switch made him actually feel a little nauseous. 

After reaching the end of the harbour tracks, they came to a complete stop, and waited for several trains to leave the big station. 

First came Gordon, who stormed out of the station canopy with the mid-day semi-fast behind him. His expression was thunderous, as were his clouds of smoke and steam. He passed by with a roar and a clatter and vanished into the tunnel towards Knapford. 

Edward was a few minutes behind, with a train of ballast from the Little Western. The expression on his face was neutral, almost intentionally so - a clear sign to anyone that knew him that he was blisteringly furious. 

“Oh no…” Emma sighed. 

“What?” Thomas asked, watching Edward’s brake van disappear into the tunnel. 

“Not what, who.” She said, resigned. “And you’ll find out soon enough.”

Up front, Pip grit her teeth and waited. 

She didn’t have to wait long - another minute, and an unusual signal dropped into place: an up-bound train cleared for the down slow line. A very familiar two-note honk-honk sounded from inside the station, and then Murgatroyd appeared, a self-satisfied sneer on his face. 

He roared out of the station, New Measurement Train shining brightly behind him, John on the tail end calling apologies to someone. It would have been a rather splendid sight, had there not been a massive cloud of sooty clag hovering over the station entrance, and trailing in his wake. 

Pip smirked with a hint of schadenfreude - John wasn’t trailing any sooty exhaust smoke, and five empty coaches were not that heavy, so somebody was ignoring his fitters it seemed…

She would have been content to sit there smugly, her well-tuned engine firing cleanly on all cylinders saying more than she ever could with words, but naturally Murgatroyd had to make things worse. 

“Oh good god!” He bellowed in mean-spirited mirth, his mouth twisting into a cheshire-cat smile. “Look at that! They really are Valenta freighters now! And they’re slumming it with a tea kettle! I thought that I had seen it all!” 

He vanished out of sight before he could say anything else, the coaches streaming by in a yellow blur. 

Pip could just see her reflection in the passing windows - they moved so fast it looked like a solid mirror - and it was not a pretty sight. 

Emma, who’d heard everything, reckoned that if he’d gone on for one more sentence, her sister would be spitting fire and roaring loud enough to be heard in Cornwall. 

Thomas, who had said worse to Toby and Daisy just this morning, suddenly felt a great sense of unease…

-

A few tense minutes later, and the signal finally raised, giving the train access to the main line. Pip set off with a roar, Emma reluctantly following her lead through the multiple unit connection. Thomas choked and spluttered from the wave of hot exhaust gases going right into his face, and barely noticed as the train rocked and rolled onto the Up Fast line. 

Blinking and tearing up, his vision finally cleared just in time to see Pip’s cab roof disappear into the darkness of the tunnel to Knapford. It was much closer than it usually was, and with the train rapidly increasing in speed, Thomas yelped as it cleared his funnel by mere inches. “YIKES!”

Emma laughed, eyes shining in the darkness, and Thomas knew that the sooner he got off this train, the better!

-

After that, for a little while, the trip continued smoothly. Knapford, Crosby, and Wellsworth stations all slid past without issue. Traffic was extremely light, and they didn’t pass any down-bound trains in the entire period. In fact, if it weren’t for the occasional blot of Gordon’s smoke on the horizon, it would have seemed that they had the entire main line to themselves. 

-

It was just past Maron station when the trouble began. 

As they crested Gordon’s hill, the first signal past the summit had fallen to “approach” almost as they passed it, and some quick shouting at “control” on the radio had revealed that the last of the permanent way crews were taking longer than usual to clear the main line near Kellsthorpe Road station. 

This meant that Pip and Emma were practically at a crawl as they reached Maron, and the train eased to a stop at the signal bridge just past the platforms. 

Pip, still hot under the buffers from her encounter with Murgatroyd, was not exactly thrilled at the idea of “dawdling” in stations, and audibly fussed as they came to a halt.

Her poor temper didn’t help her train handling skills any, and the train lurched inelegantly to a halt, causing the slack in the couplings to run in, and the entire train banged against her and Emma. 

There was much shouting and complaining from the trucks and Thomas at this, and Pip growled menacingly.  

“Oh, well.” Emma said quickly, trying to put a positive spin on things. “At least it’s a nice day out-”

CLONK

Before she could even say anything, the signals rose to the “approach slow, expect stop” aspect. This meant that they were getting moved forward exactly one signal block, to the Cronk home signals near the Hawin Ab Viaduct. 

“Oh come on!” Emma cried in frustration. 

It was abundantly clear what was happening now: they were going to be yo-yo-ed up and down the main line. Yo-yo-ing was what happened when a fast train was stuck behind a slow one, and had to constantly stop at each signal and wait for it to clear. It was hard on an engine’s brakes, worse on their buffers and couplings, and worst of all, was annoying as sin. This was exactly the sort of constant, low-grade irritation that she (and Pip) did not need right now.

Pip’s driver was entirely unaware of this, though, and so he increased the throttle and watched with some bemusement as Pip let her engine furiously rev all the way to the top of the tachometer right from the jump. 

She and Emma lurched forwards, and the entire train crashed into motion, each car yanking the one behind it as they all set off. 

Thomas rocked back and forth against his tie-down chains. “Careful!” he shouted. 

“Shut up!” Pip and Emma scowled. 

Thomas frowned, ready to give them a piece of his mind. 

“It’s no use,” tThe low-loader sighed. “They’re in a strop right now - best you can do is make them forget that you’re here, til they calm down.”

“When will that happen?” 

“That, lad, is something that the smartest trucks in all the land have been searching for an answer to for many years.”

-

To add insult to perceived injury, Pip’s driver didn’t bother accelerating to any real speed, since they were only going one signal down the line. Pip and Emma stewed in their own irritation at twenty-five miles an hour as they rolled up the line towards the next signal. There was very little that could be done to make them more upset, but of course when there’s a will, (and a Murgatroyd) there’s a way.

-

“Oh, no…” John murmured to himself. 

The New Measurement Train had been caught at a signal for almost thirty minutes, as the Island’s P-Way team cleared out in front of them. The positioning of this particular signal was not ideal, as it left the tail of the train caught on the exposed tracks of a windy viaduct. Furthermore, the signal, like all signals on Sodor, was a relatively vintage semaphore design that still used colored filters over a white light. He knew this from experience, having been all over this island for the last day, however he was hearing all of it now because his royal Murgitude had been griping and whinging about it literally since the moment they stopped. 

And now, look at who was coming up to the signals on the fast line… 

“Hi Pip, Hi Emma,.” he said weakly. 

He almost wanted to tell them to stop further back, and be near him - away from the irritating mass at the front of the train - but looking at Pip’s enraged visage gave him pause. He stilled his tongue, and let them roll up to the signal mast next to Murg.

Judging from the way that the train screeched and bashed to a halt, Emma wasn’t happy either. A smart engine (or one with a functioning self-preservation instinct) would have kept quiet at that stage, however Murgatroyd was neither self-preserving nor intelligent, and John could hear his mocking tone from five coaches back. 

Pip said nothing, and at first neither did Emma, but as Moron-a-troyd went on and on and on, John could feel a shift in the container wagons next to him. It was almost like they were cringing, trying to keep themselves as far away from whatever was about to happen next. 

Finally, he could take the suspense no more. “Is it bad?” he asked the nearest truck. 

“SHUT UP. I AM TIRED OF HEARING YOU SPEAK,” Emma bellowed, loud enough to be heard clearly at the other end of the train. 

“It’s awful bad,” the truck whispered. “You can tell he’s never dealt with real engines before. One of us acts like that and we’d be the next Scruffey within a month!”

John didn’t know who “Scruffey” was, but he understood the sentiment regardless. 

Silence reigned after that… for all of ten seconds, before Murgatroyd said something about “decorum” that set off a screaming row between all three of them. 

It was bad enough that the Network Rail crew inside the coaches started making a fuss on the radio, and within a minute, the container train roared away, leaving the New Measurement Train in windy silence yet again. 

After a few short seconds, John felt a “poke” over the multiple unit connection. Clearly Murgatroyd wanted to say something. 

“Well,” he said, voice warbling from some damage in the connection that John hadn’t ever told anyone about. “I think they said their piece didn’t they? I tell you what John-old-boy, but this island produces some of the worst examples of engine-kind that I have ever seen. I think that one was breathing fire!”

-

At Cronk station, Pip and Emma were idling so loud and so roughly that the stationmaster radioed the crew to ask if something was wrong. 

“That damned flying banana got them in a state, that’s what’s wrong,” The driver snapped over the radio. That awful measurement train had been nothing but problems since it showed up on the island, and he was willing to do anything to see them gone. Heck, if it wasn’t likely to make his engines even angrier, he’d give that train his path to the mainland, just so it’d be gone faster. 

What they really needed was a good fast run, to get them back into their usual state, but with the P-Way team taking their sweet bloody time of it, it didn’t seem likely. 

“If they keep going like this, they’re going to burst a manifold somewhere,” the guard poked his head into the cab. “We’ve got to calm them down.”

“I would love to see you try!” the driver retorted. “They’re not gonna stop until they’re good and ready.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Pip huffed. 

“And? Are you going to calm down?” 

A slow growl that shook the entire cab was his only answer. 

“Go put the radio on,” he said to the wide-eyed guard. “They need something to keep their minds occupied.”

“Radio? Like, to control?”

“No, you nit! Like the radio radio! With music! There’s a circuit breaker on the electrical panel. Bottom row.”

Confused, the guard retreated from the cab and made his way to Pip’s electrical cabinet. Opening up the “low voltage” door, he traced his finger down the rows of breakers until he found what should have been immediately obvious: a handwritten label on some sellotape next to the last of the breakers. It said “TUNES” in shaky handwriting, and was one of the only ones not turned on. Hesitantly, he reached out and switched it on. 

“-and that was “No Diggity,” by Blackstreet, here on ManxPirate, the eternally annoying voice of the Sudrian Sea. Catch our sound wherever you are, on 107.9 FM, 927 AM, 13.68 Shortwave, DAB, DAB+, and online at ManxPirate.co.im. 

“Oh come on!” Pip groused. “Now they’re gonna do the adverts! This isn’t any better than listening to the moron!”

“And now that brings us up to about five minutes til’ the top of the hour, so we’re gonna run some adverts so we can keep the lights on. We’ll see ya on the flipside with DJ Geordie Poppers, who’s gonna run a very special block of music for us, right here on ManxPirate.”

“How often do they listen to this?” the guard asked with some astonishment. 

“Too much, if I had any say in it…” the driver mumbled.

“Are you tired of your washing up smelling like mildew? Are you sick of having to pull down the drying lines at the first sign of rain? Then the new automatic clothes dryers at B&Q are just for you…”

The radio continued on with an inane advertisement about tumble dryers, and the driver put his head in his hands. “We’ve just got to make it to a song… I hope.”

Pip and Emma continued to stew in their own irritation. 

-----

Far away, at Kellsthorpe Road station, the last of the P-Way Gang hauled their equipment off of the line, sharing a celebratory high-five as they did so. There was due cause for celebration: once the NMT traveled over this section of line, their yearslong work of relaying the entire main line would be finally over. In the station’s car park, a champagne bottle was popped, and the foreman revealed that he’d brought real crystal stemware for the occasion, instead of plastic.    

Presently, a radio handset buzzed. “Is that the lot of you off, then?” 

It was Control, sounding less than pleased with the delay… 

----

At Cronk, the signals for the down slow line rose into the “all clear” position, while the up fast signals remained red. 

Pip ground her teeth noisily. 

“HI, I’M BARRY SCOTT, AND I’M HERE TO TALK ABOUT THE ALL NEW CILLIT BANG UNIVERSAL DEGREASER! NOW WITH NEW FORMULATION! SAY GOODBYE TO LIMESCALE AND RUST STAINS…” 

The radio continued to play adverts.

Thomas was growing increasingly fearful of the look on Emma’s face. 

--

A few minutes later, as an insufferably bad advertisement about comparing your car insurance provider finally faded out, a two tone honk-honk sounded behind them, and the New Measurement Train roared past in a cloud of exhaust and dust. Pip and Emma didn’t say anything, or even look in the general direction, but the raucous laughter that trailed in its wake said enough. 

Mercifully, the radio had begun playing something else. “All right then, got those ads out of the way. So what’s up listeners? It’s DJ Geordie Poppers in the hooo-use, coming to you LIVE from our studios on the ever so beautiful radio ship Tharos out here in the Sudrian Sea. We’ve got a very special bit of music for you coming up now in the upcoming hour - it’s a rare daylight sighting of our After-Dark Eurobeat Power Hour! I’m gonna be spinning some CDs and MP3s with the most pulse-pounding beats this side of Mount Akina - so if you’re driving right now, sorry about this.”

As John got smaller and smaller in the distance, the music began to fade in, very gradually. 

“And a bit of housekeeping here - we’ve heard from the artist and they’ve had a bit of a name change. Out goes Ken, and in comes Kendra. This is the extended version of “The Top,” by  Ken (short for Kendra) Blast.”

Slowly, a piano track began to fill in. 

Pip raised an eyebrow, irritation momentarily sidetracked. “Is this really the Eurobeat block, Emma?”

“I think it is,” she said, starting to go along with the intro.  

Thomas, who couldn’t hear Pip or the radio, had no idea what she was talking about. He didn’t like the look on her face. 

The trucks didn’t either. 

“Lads,” the lead container wagon said with gravitas. “We may not make it through today unchanged. It has been an honor serving with you.”

“What?” The low loader that carried the jet engine coughed as the container wagons murmured about honor. He was relatively new, and this was not how he expected his day to be going.

“Laddie,” Thomas’ low loader said gravely, understanding at once what was about to happen. “You’re about to experience something that you’ve never been through before. I’d recommend preparing yourself.”

“What?!” Thomas yelped. 

---

Back in Tidmouth, the people in “Control” were staring at the “big board.” For weeks now, the section of line near Kellsthorpe road had been a mess of green, yellow, and red lights, as the P-Way gang slowly finished the banked curve on the station’s east end. Trains, represented by little markers on the computer screen, waited for a free path, oftentimes with large delays, which showed up in flashing red and white boxes. 

Now, though, their frustration was finally at an end. The last of the yellow was disappearing, section by section, as the P-Way gang reported that they were clear. Three of the four lines were bright red - clear but with no train signaled through - while the down slow line was a green and yellow stripe. It was getting shorter and shorter, as the little marker labeled 1Q01 moved steadily eastward. That was the New Measurement Train, finishing its final pass of the system.  

Behind it, with the box flashing red and white from the delay, was 1B07 - the “Container Express,” already twenty minutes late. More trains were lined up behind it and the NMT, and others were queuing in a line that started at Kellsthorpe Road and went all the way to the mainland. 

The yellow segments were almost entirely gone, with just one signal block outside of Kellsthorpe Road left. 

There was a five minute safety delay coded into the signal control computers, specifically for when crews were working on the line. 

It had been four minutes and fifty six seconds since they’d reported that they were clear. 

Four minutes and fifty seven seconds.

Four minutes and fifty eight.

Four minutes and fifty nine. 

---

The signal in front of Pip raised with a clonk. 

There was still a slight haze to the air from Murgatroyd’s exhaust. In the distance, the plume of sooty white smoke he was making stood out against the clear blue sky like a signal fire. 

“Emma?” Anyone with sense would recognize the danger in her tone.

“Yeah?” Unfortunately for everyone else on the train, they couldn’t do anything about it.

“I think we should catch him.”

“I think you’re right.”

--

In the cab, the driver looked nervously at the rev counter, which had started to climb rapidly. 

“Here goes nuthin’,” he said quietly to himself, before advancing the throttle.

--

The music, which had been slowly building over the last twenty seconds or so, abruptly kicked into a high gear, with a frenetic electronic beat that belted along at 160 beats per minute. 

White exhaust belched from the twins’ exhaust, before quickly turning black under the load. Their engines ramped up to an ear-piercing howl, obliterating any sense of quiet at Cronk station.

Thomas once again got a face full of noxious choking clag, and his eyes watered while his hearing was momentarily deafened by the noise of it all. 

The train began to pick up speed, and the container wagons groaned in fatalistic anticipation. “It’s all downhill from here!” one of them shouted. 

“What?” Thomas hacked from inside the cloud. He couldn’t see anything, and his hearing was ringing like a church bell. 

In front, Pip could feel the unrelenting wave of horsepower and diesel surging through her system. She laughed joyously, with Emma soon joining in. 

To everyone else, it seemed somewhat maniacal. 

🎶 Final lap I'm on top of the world

And I will never rest for second again!

One more time I have beaten them out

The scent of gasoline announces the end! 🎶

--

The train vanished from sight, on its way towards Killdane. The stationmaster poked his head out of the station door. 

“There goes trouble…”

--

The New Measurement Train rolled through Killdane with fleetfooted ease. The rails were clear and the light train was aided by the downhill gradient. From his position on the rear, John felt like the entire consist was weightless, with barely any effort required to keep the train at speed. 

“You think we should go any faster?” he called up the multiple unit connection to Murg. They usually ran at well over 120, but today they’d barely crested 90. 

There was a cough over the connection. “Oh, not today. We’re still the fastest train on this backwards island!” 

Ah yes. A sudden excuse. Surely that was completely unrelated to the plume of smoke trailing in their wake. 

“So, how’s cylinder four feeling today?”

“Shut up.”

John smiled pettily to himself. 

In the distance, Killdane got smaller and smaller. A small dot of yellow could just be seen…

---

🎶 They all said I'd best give it up

What a fool to believe their lies!

Now they've fallen and I'm at the top

Are you ready now to die-ie-ie?! 🎶

---

At Killdane, the sounds of the NMT had scarcely faded before the sound of howling diesel engines filled the air. Heads turned to the east just in time to see Pip and Emma hammering around the curve into the station at full throttle. 

The curve was banked, but not nearly as steeply as the ones to the west, and there was a piercing screeeeeech of steel on steel as the train whipped past. 

“Slowdownslowdownslowdownslowdownslowdown!” There was also a piercing screech coming from the train’s cargo, as Thomas the Tank Engine felt himself rock back and forth atop the low loader. It really did feel like he was going to fall off! 

Pip had a very determined look on her face, eyes focused well into the distance, but those who saw Emma in the brief moment she was in view noted an almost demented smile on her face. She was laughing. 

All this happened in just a moment, and then the train was gone, roaring off into the distance at just below the line speed limit. The wind from the train’s passage rattled a lineside sign. It was a white circle with several thin diagonal slashes through it. 

It was an “end of speed limit” sign.

--

🎶 I came up from the bottom

And into the top

For the first time I feel alive

I can fly like an eagle

And strike like a hawk

Do you think you can survive... the top?🎶

--

John noticed that the small yellow dot in the distance was getting bigger. Squinting, he couldn’t quite see what it was. 

Whatever it was, it was slowly gaining on them.

Hang on…He thought. 

The cameras that were blanketing his sides were supposed to be recording the lineside for defects, but nobody ever cared about the “going away” view. Very quietly, he “looked” through the lens mounted just above his eyes. It had a nice zoom, and could see much further than he could. 

What he saw made him blink and look again. Then a third time. Then a fourth. After looking for a fifth and final time. He finally wrapped his mind around what exactly he was seeing. 

“Hey Murg?” he said innocently. 

“Yes? What is it?” Murg sounded far more irritated than he should be. 

“Think you can get us into the triple digits? Some of the boffins are worried about their readings not being calibrated right.”

“Oh damn them all.” Murg cut the connection with a pained cough. John had a distinct feeling that the Infallible and Most Invulnerable King Murgatroyd was hiding exactly how bad cylinder four really was from everyone, lest he be seen as “weak” or “mortal” by his inferiors. 

Well, he thought to himself with a hint of smugness as the train slowly began to increase speed. If he wants to play the perfect king, he’ll have to deal with the locals.  

Behind them, Pip and Emma continued to get closer and closer…

---

James and his coaches had been waiting on the dratted P-Way gangers for over half an hour at Kellsthorpe Road, and set off with a will when the signal changed. 

Of course, the signaling was all out of sorts, and he was running “wrong main” on the Up Slow line, but he didn’t much care. There wasn’t anyone in front of him, and was making “good” time on his way to Killdane. “Maybe we’ll still make it to Tidmouth before tomorrow!” he joked to his driver, who had long since given up on making light of the situation. 

They leaned into the curve heading towards Killdane, and that awful banana of a measurement train streaked by in the other direction. James whistled derisively at it out of reflex more than anything else, and was quietly grateful that the unpleasant train had nothing to say in return. 

In the distance, a giddy-sounding honk-honk drew his attention back to the line ahead, and he had just enough time to make out something streaking on the next line over before something-

Honk-Honk! Honk-Honk!

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

-ripped past them with a honk, a roar, and a scream.

“What was that?!” He yelped as the wind buffeted him. 

“I think that was Pip and Emma!” his driver said, looking backward. “With a container train!”

“What?!”

---

🎶 One more turn and I'll settle the score

A rubber fire screams into the night

Crash and burn is what you're gonna do

I am the master of the asphalt fight 🎶

---

John watched as Pip and Emma got closer and closer. In a macabre way, he felt giddy about it. At their current speed, they were going to eat Murgatroyd for lunch and still have room for tea afterwards. 

He had been paying such close attention to the rapidly-closing distance between the two trains that he completely missed the start of the banked curve until he was leaning into it. The rails bent underneath him and the ties whipped past at an odd angle as the whole world tilted a few degrees. They weren’t going slow, by any means, but the sensitive equipment in the coaches (and his years of experience) told him that they could have been going much faster. 

“Oh Murg… you might want to speed up…” he sing-songed. “They’re gaining on us…”

“Who’s gaining on us? What?!” Murgatroyd was oblivious, as was his wont. 

John wanted to say something else, but his voice failed him as he watched the container train, with low-loaders on the front, rocket through the curve at speeds that he didn’t even want to contemplate. 

A train passed on one of the other lines, and he watched the smoke from its stack get whipped and roiled by air currents of the two trains passing each other. 

Seconds later, Pip and Emma passed the train, streaking through the remaining smoke, and the force of their passage tore the cloud to ribbons. 

---

🎶They all said I'd best give it up

What a fool, to believe their lie-ie-ies!

Now they've fallen, I'm at the top

Are you ready now to die-ie-ie?🎶

---

Pip was high on speed, and she was loving every second of it. 

Emma was right behind her, literally and metaphorically; the sensation of pure motion and velocity was coursing through their systems like a drug. 

In front of them, so close one could almost reach out and touch it, was the New Measurement Train. John was watching with restrained giddiness as they started to draw abreast of him. He said something, but the wind whipping by erased all sound. There was just speed, and that was more than enough. 

Slowly, they pulled even with the coaches, and with each window they passed, another Network Rail employee could be seen looking up in astonishment. 

In Pip’s cab, the driver was holding onto the controls with a white knuckle grip. Officially, he was the driver, he was in control of the train. Realistically, he was nothing more than a rider on a bucking bronco. He surveyed the line ahead, and gulped. 

Behind Pip and Emma, Thomas’s eyes were right in the most turbulent part of the wake that followed the diesels. Air, superheated and filled with grit and soot from twin exhausts, poured into his eyes and swirled around his face. He couldn’t hear, he could barely see. 

Behind him, the wind whipped through the turbine blades of the jet engine on the next low-loader. It had been secured for transport, so the blades didn’t move, but the wind rushing through it created a high-pitched howling noise that simply added to the cacophony. 

Lost in the chaos of the wind and the noise and the exhaust, the container wagons and the low-loaders were holding onto each other for dear life. 

“I’m not designed for thiiiiis!” one of them shrieked. 

“None of us are!” the wagon ahead of him bellowed. “Just keep holding on a little longer!” 

--

At the head of the NMT, Murgatroyd was trying very hard to ignore the slight off-beat throbbing coming from cylinder four. Something was amiss with it - what it was, he didn’t know for certain. Driver didn’t know either - blasted man hadn’t turned a wrench a day in his life; wouldn’t know the difference between an allen key and the keys to a house! 

Of course there weren’t any fitters on board - “economic savings” kept them at home base - so he just had to deal with it. 

Just so long as the underlings didn’t notice, everything would be fine-

“Oh Murgatroyd…”

“Yes, John?”

“You might want to look around...”

He looked off towards the Up lines, and was rendered momentarily speechless by the sight of Pip smiling wickedly at him. 

“T-that’s not possible,” he said once he found his tongue. “That isn’t possible!” 

---

🎶 I came up from the bottom

And into the top

For the first time I feel alive!

I can fly like an eagle

And strike like a hawk

Do you think you can survive...

I came up from the bottom

And into the top

For the first time I feel alive!

I can fly like an eagle

And strike like a hawk

Do you think you can survive... the top?🎶

----

Moments earlier

“So how late do you think we’re going to be?” Percy asked as the train rumbled through Kellsthorpe Road station. 

“Oh,” Henry pondered. “We’re only allowed to do 45, and we’ve got to drop off the aluminium at Killdane, so probably two or three hours if we lose our path at all. Which we will.”

“Thomas is going to be absolutely livid when I get back.” Percy said from atop his low loader. “He was supposed to go in for his new cylinder block today, so if I’m not back, they’re going to have him stay in steam all day.”

“Oh, he won’t be thrilled about that.” Henry chortled. “I swear, he’s the only engine who likes going to the works.” 

“They treat him the same way James treats himself. Of course he likes going there!”

“Hah! I hadn't considered that-oh dear…” Henry trailed off mid-sentence. 

“What?”

“It appears that we’re about to go down the middle between Pip and Emma, and their favorite siblings.”

“What? The banana? Oh great.”

“Yes, they- oh goodness they’re quick-”

Anything else Henry said was lost to the deafening thunderclap made as the New Measurement Train and the Container Express roared past on the opposing lines. The wind felt like it was going to knock him clean off the rails, and Percy yelped in surprise as debris and exhaust fumes swirled around him like a hurricane. His boiler, a stout construction that could hold hundreds of pounds of pressure, felt like it was flexing and bowing from the vibrations in the air. He watched in open-mouthed shock as Henry’s cab windows were sucked out of their frames from the differential pressure, and were hurled through the air followed by every loose object in the cab, from hats and coats, to papers and even a coal shovel!

Behind and in front of Percy, open wagons of stone, and the coal from Henry’s tender sent huge plumes of dust and debris into the air, swirling and mixing into a funnel cloud that wrapped around the rear of the train. It danced in the tornadic airflow for a few seconds, before dissipating as the trains parted once more. 

The silence afterwards was deafening. 

“DID I LOSE A WINDOW?” Henry asked, almost unable to hear himself speak, as his driver applied the brakes and stopped the train. 

Percy tried to make the ringing in his smokebox cease. Closing his eyes, he suddenly remembered seeing something in the fraction of a second before the world went topsy-turvy. “Wait a tic. Was that Thomas?”

“WHAT?”

---

🎶 What were you thinking, telling me to change my game?

This style wasn't going anywhere; it was kaput!

You want to see what I've done with this place; this whole thing?

You want to see that I changed the game?

No, I AM the game!

Before I knew where this was going, I would've listened to you

Right now, I distance myself from what you have to say!

I made this something way bigger than you're ever gonna be

I made it this far; and I'm taking it to the top 🎶

----

Pip and Emma laughed gaily as they overtook the NMT, and powered on towards Kellsthorpe Road like they weren’t towing several hundred tonnes of freight train behind them. 

Murgatroyd gaped in shock as he was passed by the steam engine they were carrying as cargo. 

The shock quickly turned into outrage, and he felt the red-hot sting of being one-upped surge through his system. His engine began to rev higher, urging the train to move faster damn it. 

“Whoa there,” his driver exclaimed, laying a firm hand on the controls. “We want to make it to the mainland, right?”

“I don’t care!” Murgatroyd ground his teeth, watching as the container wagons slipped past him. “They can’t win!” 

But no matter how he tried, his driver wouldn’t let him speed up. 

He howled and roared impotently as Pip and Emma got further and further ahead. 

---

On the platforms of Kellsthorpe Road station, several surveyors were getting measurements of the newly-relaid line. 

Looking down the magnified optics of a theodolite, the true character of the railway could be seen. What appeared to be a straight and flat section of line was actually a ribbon of steel that undulated and flowed over the terrain. While certain sections had just been flattened and graded, it was impossible to fully eliminate the contours of the earth without starting from scratch, and so the line rolled with the small hills and invisible valleys instead of cutting right through them.

“Hey, look at that.” One of the other surveyors said from behind an optical level. “You can see the NMT from here.”

“Can you?” asked his coworker, who quickly pointed his theodolite down the line. “I don’t see it.”

“It’s just gone behind the dip. Should be back in a moment.”

He fixed his eyes on the dip in the terrain. It was actually visible to the naked eye, but its height differential - deemed to be “within acceptable limits” - and its presence directly under a road bridge - meant that it had survived the recent track relaying unscathed.  

The surveyors waited for the train to reappear, the optics of their measurement devices making things appear much larger than they really were. 

With that in mind, it was something of a surprise to see an HST appear two tracks over from where the NMT had been. They both looked to that line just in time for the train to crest the hill.

There was a brief moment, no longer than a breath, where both men could see daylight shine underneath the train as all the wheels left the ground.

----

Pip and Emma hooted and hollered with glee as they roared through the approach to Kellsthorpe Road station. High speed crossovers and the new banked curve meant they didn’t have to check their speed in the slightest as they charged onwards. 

The station came and went in a flash, and they leaned into the new corner at unprecedented speeds. Behind them, Thomas wailed loud enough to be heard over their motors, but they paid him little mind; they didn’t realize - or understand - exactly what he was experiencing. 

Behind them, now far into the distance, the New Measurement Train was just rolling into the station. 

They had won. 

---

🎶 I came up from the bottom

And into the top

For the first time I feel alive!

I can fly like an eagle

And strike like a hawk

Do you think you can survive...

I came up from the bottom

And into the top

For the first time I feel alive!

I can fly like an eagle

And strike like a hawk

Do you think you can survive... the top? 🎶

----

Further up the line, Bertie the bus was pulling up to a level crossing, just as the gates went down. 

“That was a great song on the radio, wasn’t it?” he said to his driver, who was thoroughly regretting turning on ManxPirate, thanks very much. “I feel like I should be racing something! Ooh! I know! The next train that comes by, we’ll try and chase it, huh? Just like the old times with Thomas!”

Honk-Honk

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Whooooooooooooooooooooosh

The train passed in just a few seconds. 

“Nevermind.”

-----

The song wound down to a stop, but Pip and Emma continued charging on. 

The guard went so far as to pull the fuse on the radio, hoping that it would calm them down, but they were too far gone to consider dropping their speed until they reached Crovan’s Gate station. There, the speed limit dropped to 90; normally a mild inconvenience, but today it felt like they’d dropped an anchor behind them. 

Still, they continued merrily along through the station as fast as was allowed (much to Thomas’s dismay) and continued east along the line. 

As they cleared the station and began to speed up again, they noticed a cloud of smoke on the horizon. 

There was still one more train they could catch…

-----

Compared to everyone else in this story, Gordon was having a blissfully uneventful day. He’d managed to put that vulgar measurement train almost totally out of his mind, and was making excellent time to the mainland when one considered the workmen-caused delay at Kellsthorpe Road. 

There was a farm lane that crossed the tracks near Henry’s tunnel, and he whistled for it. 

Honk-Honk

He was most surprised to hear a horn respond to him, and was flabbergasted to see Pip, then Emma, and then Thomas pass him like he was standing still!

“HiGordonByeGordon!” “HiGordonByeGordon!” “GORDON HELP ME!”

The train raced into the tunnel and vanished from sight. 

Gordon could not believe what he had seen!

----

Eventually, the speed limits dropped, and the four track main line merged into two just after Vicarstown. Rolling over the lift bridge at a sedate twenty miles an hour Pip and Emma finally began to come down off their “runner’s really high.”

“That was great!” Pip gushed. “Just the sort of run we needed to clear everything out, am I right?”

“Uh, Pip?” Emma began to notice the state of Thomas. “I think we miiiiight have overdone this a little.”

Thomas could only whimper in agreement! 

----

By the time the New Measurement Train rolled into Barrow station some thirty minutes later, Pip, Emma, and Gordon were all trying to console Thomas, to limited success. 

“...Ahem!” Murgatroyd tried to slink into the station totally unnoticed, but John had no compunctions about making sure they were seen. “So, I assume that you two will be conducting all of this railway’s freight services from now on?”

“Oh,” Pip’s smile was very guilty looking as she turned away from the still shell-shocked Thomas. “Yeah. About that…” She swallowed deeply. “I’m… sorry about… y’know. All of that. The overtake.”

“What, me? Overtaken?” Murgatroyd tried and failed to play dumb. Well, a different kind of dumb from usual. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Pip’s smile grew much harder edged, and Gordon took the moment to intercede. “Look, Pip. You don’t owe that any apology of any form.” 

Murgatroyd looked aggrieved. Gordon turned on him next. “And you. You are an uncouth abomination who have done nothing useful at all. Take the apology, cause no more trouble, and find yourself a better attitude elsewhere.”

Murgatroyd puffed himself up with self-righteous fury, and John regretted being an instigator. 

“WELL, I-” He started.

“Oh shut up!” Thomas bellowed. “Stop talking before I come down there and peel you, you great useless banana! Everything that’s happened to me today is all your fault!” 

 Murgatroyd quailed under the impressive amount of vitriol Thomas was spewing, and he left in a chastised burst of soot and clag. John followed in his wake, not sure what, if anything to say. “Bye Pip. Bye Emma.”

Once the NMT had vanished from sight, Pip, Emma, and Gordon turned their attention back to Thomas. 

“Great useless banana?” Gordon raised an eyebrow. 

Thomas didn’t have the energy for a proper comeback, and simply stared at him knowingly. 

“Fine, fine,” Gordon acknowledged the unsaid. “For an off-the-buffer moment after the day you’ve had, it was a fine jab. I’m just glad that you’re beginning to feel more like yourself.” He began to steam off towards the shed. “As such, I’ll be off.”

“Wait!” Thomas called. “Where are you going? Who’s taking me on the pick-up goods?”

“Thomas, I don’t take the pick-up goods,” Gordon called regally. “That’s what we have diesels for. I believe there’s two of them right in front of you!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Post script: Low-loaders were subsequently banned from Pip and Emma's trains

[purple-star-eyes]

QnA with Viv, Erika and Amir (Wednesday, 31st January 2024)

(1 day before the Season 1 finale)

Who would be the better dad?

>Lucifer cuz his heart is in the right place.

Alastor wanted to get under Luci's skin, which is where the Dad rivalry came from.

Alastor is canonically aro/ace.

Said in a livestream by his voiceactor Amir Talai but Viv didn't deny it.

"It didn't come up in the show yet obviously."

Amir Talai owns an "Oh deer" cup a fan made for him

Concerning Fantheories: A lot of people have gotten a lot of things right.

Viv tries to avoid it, but she's excited to see how exact people get it. Apparently quite a few have figured it out to the T.

When Viv first made the characters she changed a lot of stories around, case and point Vaggie's story changed.

Viv laughed when she saw the HB theory that Wally Wackford is a secret form of Mammon.

>clearly false, fun but not true according to Viv, debunked in real time

Viv's brother works at A24 and loves trolling fans with theories like "Charlie dies in ep.4" (false obviously)

Amir said Alastor has a tail. Viv doesnt confirm or deny it.

Viv: "The tail is not relevant."

-> Might be answered later, since he'd have to be without the coat

Erika likes that Charlie has actual realists around her keeping her grounded.

(Like Angel in ep.4)

Charlie's view is very simplistic on redemption.

The point of the show is to explore that the grey area and redemption are very complicated

(Charlie's arc)

Mimzie is a relieable narator when it comes to Alastor.

But his backstory will come up in future episodes.

There *HAS TO BE* someone that scares Alastor according to Amir.

"We haven't even scratched the surface with Alastor." According to Viv.

Why does Alastor keep Nifty around?

-> Will be explored in the next episodes.

He is very fond of her.

They can connect due to "they both dont care about anything"

How tall is Lucifer-> 5'2 (as per the definitiom of shortking) and Charlie is a foot taller than him. (The hat adds a lot)

The hat is a concious choice of Luci to make up for his height.

"He's not concerned with fashion. Just his height."

The other sins are very big, Viv loves that Luci is the tiniest one of the sins.

Charlie is 6ft

Valentino is 10ft

Angel is 8ft

Alastor is around Charlie's height

Erika's favourite V is Vox due to his voice. She might never love Valentino (he makes her mad).

Amir refused to comment who his favourite V is.

Is there more to the beef between Alastor and Vox?

-> they hate each other, Vox is jealous

Alastor enjoys Vox like a rug (Vox exists and he can walk all over him.)

Pretty simple and nice dynamic but nothing else.

Alastor thinks Vox is "inconsequencial".

Viv thinks Alastor is Chaotic Neutral.

(Tho she's not too familiar with the categories)

Amir says it's hard to say without giving anything away, regarding what his alignment is.

It was hard to record in 2021 due to having to record sessions and duets alone in the booths, according to Amir.

Erika felt a lot of pressure during the first 2 Episodes, because she knows how long people waited for it.

Brandon will help write Eps in Helluva Boss, but works a mile a minute so he will come in and go "Oh I remember this one" :)

Someone dies in Hazbin.

"You can sleep tonight if you think it's Angel Dust"

Both said by Vivzie. So she basically confirmed that Angel will (probably) NOT die.

She did say it was "going to be obvious" who it would be.

Season 2 is in production.

[rainbowsky]

GQ & ADLAD CPN

@accio-victuuri has a post about some of the CPN from the GQ feature on GG. There are a couple more CPNs that I wanted to talk about because - with the exception of a couple of tidbits - I haven't seen turtles talking about some things that really stood out to me.

Both of the tidbits being discussed by BXG are based on fake rumors from the past.

Godly Back

Turtles feel that the backless jacket might be what was referred to in the recent LRLG rumor (Apparently wangwang senbei can be a homophone sounding like 'godly back').

In this context, "You saw what I wore, can you please choose something normal" becomes hilarious. 😅

If he really was talking about GG's back, well... DD, the rest of the internet agrees with you given the hotsearch that was trending on both the main and entertainment hotsearches. 😅

Xiao Zhan's back ditch is so deep

GGDD and ADLAD

This one I wanted to dig more deeply into because it's connected to a few different CPN from a long time ago, and a lot of turtles might not be aware of all these connections.

In the GQ interview GG mentioned he was really nervous for the first performance of ADLAD.

At the time a LRLG rumor came out with some exchanges between GG and DD in the days leading up to that first show. GG talks about being nervous, DD and his staff video call him to wish him Jiayou, and at one point - presumably the last time they talk before that first show - DD video calls with GG and closes off by giving him a high 5.

The day after the first show, GG posted on Weibo.

At the time there was a lot of speculation about what that second photo was. One of the theories was that GG had screen capped DD's hand high-5-ing his phone. Some fans even tried doing that themselves (screencapping their hands up against their phone cameras to see what would happen) with somewhat similar results - photos that were an ombre of pale pink to red.

Some additional CPN

When I saw GG talking in GQ about the first ADLAD show and how nervous he was and I saw turtles looking back over the LRLG rumors from that time, I decided to look over those rumors myself. I found a couple things there that really hit me in the gut, but which I haven't seen other turtles discussing.

Magician DD

One thing that stood out to me from the ADLAD LRLG rumor was when DD told GG he could do magic, and told his staff that only GG believed him.

Back in 2021 a series of pages called the 300G were released, which claimed to be transcripts of some of the best unseen moments from The Untamed BTS (300GB of BTS footage was reportedly sold to BXG fansites). They were translated by an all-star team of some of the best BXG translators and overall fandom MVP on Twitter back in the day (god I miss those days of Twitter 😢).

Disclaimer: We must remember that these are unconfirmed transcripts. As far as I know, none of the footage that could substantiate these transcripts has ever been released, so it could just be someone's fanfic.

Anyway, my absolute favorite moment in those transcripts was an exchange between GG and DD, when GG had been struggling with nailing a scene. My synopsis from a post I made about GG and DD's personalities a while back:

GG is having a hard time getting a take right for a scene, and the director tells him to take a break. DD scoots over to where GG is resting and holds out his two fists facing downward in front of GG and asks him to pick one for a surprise. GG agonizes a bit over which one to choose, but finally picks a hand. DD gives GG a mysterious smile and asks GG to hold out his hand. GG does, and DD opens his fingers over GG’s palm. There’s nothing there. DD says, “I’ve just given you some luck, so that on your next take, you will succeed.” GG asks what is in the other hand and DD turns it over and opens it and says, “See, there’s nothing there! Zhan-ge is so good, you guessed right on the first try!” GG rolls his eyes at DD and says, “WYB, in your heart, do you think I’m more than 10 years old?” On the next take, GG nails the scene.

So it's just possible that DD and GG have a long history of this type of exchange, of DD giving GG his 'magical' support. GG is just superstitious enough that it might genuinely help him, and anyway, who could fail to be soothed by such sweet magic? 🥹

GG and Sleep

Another thing that stood out to me is when GG talked about being unable to sleep. Honestly this part of the interview really got me because I have always struggled with extreme insomnia and I could totally feel his pain. I've tried so many of the things that he's tried, and have had similarly mixed/poor results.

Anyway, aside from the aromatherapy candle CPN that's been heavily discussed in the fandom, what stood out to me CPN-wise was the fact that LRLG rumors have (I think this has happened at least a few times, but I can't recall specifics), featured moments where it seemed like GG and DD left their phone/video calls active to keep each other company when the other one was sleeping.

In the ADLAD LRLG rumor there's a moment when it seems like GG might be having difficulty sleeping and DD keeps him company.

Find someone who will keep you company over the phone while you try to take a nap. 🥹

Firecrackers

Just another quick thing from that same rumor, DD talks about wanting to set off some firecrackers for GG, which... ugh, so sweet. My god.

His staff encourages him to do it, and he says he will be 'taken away' if he does (maybe get into trouble, likely exaggerated a bit), and his staff says he'll cover for DD.

In Chinese culture (and in fact, in many cultures), firecrackers are considered very lucky because they are believed to drive away evil spirits and bad luck (which is why they're such a feature of Spring Festival celebrations).

GG and DD always look out for each other, and this CPN around ADLAD and around GG's sleep struggles really hit me hard. I love them both so damn much!

[sheegons]

OKAY SO WHO ASKED FOR A POST THAT DETAILS DAMIANS CONNECTIONS TO MAGIC?.. nobody? oh okay.

(be forewarned, this is long)

now after ignoring batman 666, let's see what we have.

ROBIN: SON OF BATMAN (2015)

now, in robin: son of batman #1 It's confirmed that after his death in batman incorporated, damian went to hell. Hell is usually connected with the more magical side of the dc universe, but that's not it.

The entirety of the comic delves into damians connections to more mystical things. mythical swords and magical ancient towers, weird extinct bat-dragons, magical cults that want to destroy the whole world, etc etc.

this is easily regarded as one of damians best comics and having peak damian characterisation, so obviously Damian being magically inclined can easily work well with his character.

Now, after a barrel load of compliments, let's get to the extremely negative side of things.

TEEN TITANS (2016)

Damian's cloned brother has magic and that sentence is about as much as i care for this book. Moving on.

BATMAN (2016)

Again, dog shit damian characterisation, but here we go. Damian here actually shows an ability to use a binding spell and has a wand, making some sort of deal with a random demon, but a far cry from damian apparently selling his soul in batman 666. Moving on finally out of rebirth because that was a bad time for Damian's character.

ROBIN (2021)

Now we go back to the good. Apparently from the maternal part of damians family, magic is more commonplace. ra's even having a whole spell book to his name. Robin 2021 kinda toys with the ghul family and the lazarus pits magical and devilish side which isn't new... but it's new to involve damian!

In the final parts of this story, Damian's heart specifically is used as a plot device, lord deathman even dubbing it as "the bloodstream of the demon" and ruh (ra's' mother) uses it as a power source to fuel demon summonings, which started the Lazarus rain event.

TEEN TITANS DARK (Unreleased)

Back in early 2023 (i think) dc teased a sort of "teen titans dark" with damian, black alice and monkey prince. The "dark" moniker referencing Justice league dark, a magic team made up of magic users that solve magical bullshit. It's a good book, recommended read, i just thought I'd add this to the pile.

Detective comics/Knight terrors

Now, including these two together because they're about the same topic: Dreams.

damian is confirmed to have some sort of control over dreams and sleep, defeating demons that show up in his sleep, yet never actually disappear when he wakes up. He also has an ability to stay awake after a massive worldwide phenomenon causes everyone, even the dream masters that taught damian, to sleep and experience night terrors.

Dreams are, again, connected to the magical side of the dc universe. Now I'm not going to pretend like i actually read sandman to you, i can't lie on ramadan, so let's all give me a pass here for my lack of understanding of all that.

Batman and robin (2023)

In this, damian mentions a bit of off screen monster hunting with Frankenstein and lays a trap that lights someone on fire. I used to think this was some sort of hex but this artwork is extremely unclear, but since Frankenstein is mentioned and from my knowledge dc's Frankenstein is magic let's pretend this is some sort.

As an extra note: this guy definitely died. There's no way about it, he got lit on fire with nobody helping him. He's gone. Damian just killed a man.

Extra Extra notes:

talia using magic!

now, i haven't included these examples in the "the ghuls have magic" segment because uh...

(batman: the doom that came to Gotham/dc bombshells)

yeah...

Not only are these interpretations of talia EXTREMELY orientalist but also just generally out of character and could've been done with any randomly introduced characters.

For the unknowing white american people in the crowd: arabs actually don't only dress in revealing "belly dancer" outfits and lanterns. i know, shocking, we actually wear normal clothes.

And just to add again, there's a lot of stories that include ra's having magic, but I'm not the biggest ra's head (lol) so i didn't read them all, i implore u to do your own research because I'm not doing it.

this about wraps it up. thank you to the magic damian believers may we all win someday.

[bluefairyhere]

Same time tomorrow?|| Colby Brock scenario

¬Colby meets a girl at a coffee shop.

Pairing->f!reader x f!reader

w.c 1.7k

cw. very fluffy and corny

Almost every morning was the same for you. Get up, take a shower, grab your books and laptop and head to the coffee shop down the street to get productive. For some reason it was easier for you to focus and avoid procrastinating at said coffee shop, which was beautiful.

Vines all over the wall outside, this white, cottage-core-like vibe that you got from all the arrangements inside. The plants, the yellow-ish lighting, the kind old lady bartending--who you always thought was the owner--the bookshelves on two of the walls inside. Everything about this coffee shop was perfect and it screamed inspiration. It was the place you felt the most calm at. Until you saw him for the first time.

His dark hair falling a little on his forehead, his piercing blue eyes, muscular complexion and tattoos. His nose piercing and the chains plus the rings on almost every finger. He was so mysterious and edgy.

You could still remember the first time you saw him walk in. You usually never noticed whoever walked throught the door, but for some reason as soon as the little doorbell rang indicating someone'd come in, you felt an electrifying need to see who it was. And it was him, of course, with his sufficient smirk and careless demeanor. Yet when he ordered his coffee he acted so nice and happy, not edgy and damp. From the very first moment you found him fascinating.

Then the next morning he came back, but unlike the day before he actually stayed to drink his coffee while scrolling on his phone and didn't even notice you were there. Not like you were expecting him to. He was probably taken, or a total player and either way he wouldn't look in your direction. Why would he? you were just a simple literature major trying to get through the weeks without losing your mind. But you had no idea how wrong you were, because Colby had noticed you from the very first day.

He remembered going into the coffee shop Sam had told him about--apparently they made the best coffee of all times at the lowest price ever witnessed for such quality, or so Sam said-- and not being disappointed with what he ordered. But while he was in line to order he'd noticed you from afar, at the back of the whole establishment, focused on your books and laptop. He instantly thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, and your aura seemed so tender and pure. He knew right away he wanted to get to know you, but how? It's not like he could just casually sit down at the table, introduce himself and ask you out. So the next day, he went to the coffee shop again, and there you were. Same table, same books, same laptop. He went for a week and he started to bring his stuff as well, mostly his laptop to do some editing and research for his videos. Hell week was coming so all the recording was already done, now they just needed to do the editing, and he also found the coffee shop an extremely relaxing and nice place to get stuff done. Plus, when he got tired, he'd look at you for a few seconds and feel recharged again. It was the weirdest thing, he wasn’t one to feel so connected to someone he’d never talked to before.

When you noticed he started sitting in the shop and working as he ate and drank his now usual muffin and what seemed to be plain coffee, you couldn’t help but imagine little scenarios in your head in which you’d go up to him and say anything, or he’d come up to you and…

“Hey.” You looked up, killing your previous train of thought. It was him. A plain black shirt with a XPLORE inscription in white, ripped black jeans with chains, rings on his fingers and his nose piercing practically staring at you.

“Huh?” Is all you could mumble. You did not expect this.

“May I sit here?” He asked with a small smirk, and you nodded.

“I noticed you since the very first time I came into this coffee shop… please let me take you on a date.”

You were about to say something when your phone rang, waking you up. It was a dream, you dosed off on the chair, head on the table. You looked around and he was gone, luckily. You hoped he didn’t see you like that.

And so the days kept going by and you continued to see him at the coffee shop, still daydreaming about who this handsome stranger was and the things you could do together. You were already at peace with the idea of him being nothing but a proximity crush and never really knowing anything about him, not even his name. Until one day he just stopped going. One day passed, then three and before you knew it, it had been a week.

You had no idea why. It’s not like you were super sad, but you missed seeing him around. You thought your proximity crush would die with his absence, but much to your surprise it actually didn't affect the way you were starting to feel about this handsome stranger.

All of a sudden, one day he came back. What you didn't know is that he had come back from recording at another haunted location with Sam and the crew, where he had an epiphany. He needed to talk to you. So that day, when you walked into the coffee shop he was sitting at your usual table, at your exact usual spot of the table too. Why would he do that? Surely he must have noticed you sit there every morning. You looked around, unsure about what to do. You even looked at the bar tender, but all the old lady had to do about it was giggle and shake her head, clearly amused.

You sighed and decided you'd take the table next to that one, so you were walking right past it. You were about to put all your stuff on said table but Colby's raspy voice prevented you from it.

"You don't need to sit there." You stopped on your tracks, not believing what you were hearing. You turned back to him.

"Sorry?" You acknowledging him made Colby feel way less confident, but he didn't show it.

"I'm not new here, I know you usually sit here. I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind... sharing a table with me?"

You looked around, confused. At this time of the day the shop wasn't very concurred with people so there was no need to share a table with a stranger. Even so, you had no idea why you were pushing things since getting to know him was all you wanted to do since you saw him for the first time. "I'm sorry but... why?"

Colby seemed to hesitate, but he had gone through almost every possible outcome of this situation with Sam. He could do this. He had to, it was now or never.

"I just figured it'd be nice. I'm Colby, Colby Brock." He stands up and offers his hand for you to shake. However, youre too stunned to process that. Just what was going on? Was he asking you to sit with him? For real?

"Im y/n, nice to meet you too." You were a little hesitant too, but honestly this was all you dreamt of lately, and it was finally happening. You decided to not overthinking and just sit down, right in front of you.

At first it was a little awkward, neither of you knew what to say.

"So, I've always wondered," Colby broke the silence "what is it you do with so many books every morning? And like you stick post-it's on it and write notes on your laptop... are you like a writer doing research or?"

You giggles a bit.

"Not really, I'm actually a literature major. I come here in the mornings to do my homework and papers and stuff." You said still smiling. "I could show you if you'd like."

"Yea sure, I'd love to see." So you took out your stuff and showed him the goods. You were currently working with two books.

"So what we're doing is making an essay comparing the accuracy of The Song of Achilles with the actual Achilles legend thing, its really interesting because..." And he was actually listening! A couple of hours passed and you learnt a lot about each other. You learnt he's a youtuber, hasn't been in a relationship for a while, likes writing music, is religious, amongst other things. And he learnt even more stuff about you since he couldn't stop asking. He was so obviously very interested. But you both realized it was time to go and continue with the day.

"This has been lovely," you said "but unfortunately if I dont leave now I won't be able to make it to campus on time." You said almost pouting.

"Yea I know, I have a meeting with the crew as well... But before you go," he seemed unsure about whether to say this or not, but after what seemed like a quick internal debate, he decided he'd say it. "I had been wanting to talk to you for weeks, and I'm glad I did. Maybe we could exchange numbers, if that's something you'd like to do?"

You felt your cheeks instantly redden. You were so sure this was going to be a one time thing, but you were so glad he was asking because you wanted this to happen again. And again. And again. You nodded.

"Of course." You offered him your phone so he'd type your number. After he was done you dialed his phone. "All done, have a good day." And you left. When you reached the door you looked back, and there he was, starting at you with that cute, satisfied smile of his. You waved and smile and he did so back. Then you left, and before you got to the bus stop you got a text message.

Same time tomorrow?

[lilacmingi]

LIVING WITH 8 VAMPIRES

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: ATEEZ x fem reader (they’re not dating, but they all flirt with her)

Word count: 7,445

Note: This is my most popular series on Wattpad and I’m bringing it to Tumblr! This first part was published on Wattpad in February 2021. I don’t even know how to explain this series. It started out with silly little scenarios and turned into an ongoing series of crack humor (sometimes mildly suggestive), fluff, a little romance/soft moments, and vampire tomfoolery. If you haven’t read it yet OH BOY you’re in for a ride. I truly hope it makes you chuckle :)

You stepped into the large mansion, the front door creaking as you kicked it shut with your foot, both arms weighed down with bags of groceries.

"Y/n's home!" Wooyoung shrieked, running towards you at an insanely brisk speed.

"I don't think so." You stepped aside before he could tackle you, completely dodging him.

"Hey! How'd you do that?"

"You're becoming predicable, Woo." You stated as you walked into the kitchen, completely unbothered.

You set the weighty bags onto the kitchen counter and began unpacking everything, placing your items in their rightful places.

"Hey, where were you?" Yunho asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I went out for groceries." You answered.

"You didn't tell us." He pouted.

"You wouldn't have let me leave if I did. You're all too clingy."

"You're our little human though." He stated as he hugged you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop that." You waved him off. "I don't belong to any of you."

"I beg to differ." An airy voice came from behind you.

You turned around seeing San perched up on the countertop, a sly grin on his face.

"I'm really not in the mood for your antics." You stated bluntly and exited the kitchen.

You headed up the large cherry wood steps that seemed to stretch for miles. The only thing on your mind was going to your room for a nice and quiet bath. You made it to the top and headed to your bedroom, just as you reached your door, Mingi dropped down in front of you, hanging upside down like the bat he is.

"Boo!" He shouted, laughing loudly.

His laughter quickly died down when he saw the unamused look on you face. You glanced up at him floating upside down in front of you.

"That's not scary anymore." You stated.

He let out a huff, sticking his bottom lip out.

"Sorry." You pouted, pinching his cheek as you stepped into your room.

•

"But she smells so good." San whined.

"I'm sitting right here." You announced, annoyed.

"Yeah and you smell incredible." San winked.

"Excuse me! We agreed we would not do that." Seonghwa spoke up.

You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that someone around here had some sense.

"Thank y-"

"Besides, if we do that, I am the eldest so I should go first."

Your mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"I am not."

"None of you are biting me." You pointed to all of them.

"You don't have to worry about me, Y/n." Hongjoong smiled warmly.

"Thank you."

"Please." Jongho scoffed. "I'm the youngest and I have the best control out of all you."

"Well, I have the second best control." Hongjoong announced cockily.

"Everyone knows the eldest has the most control." Seonghwa pushed his hair back.

"That's bull crap." Jongho butted in.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"You wouldn't know. You don't keep up with the current phrases used in today's time."

"I do not need to."

"Apparently you do because you never know what anyone is talking about." Jongho shot back.

The air went quiet for a moment.

"He's right." Mingi muttered.

"Yeah he is." Mumbled Wooyoung.

Everyone else nodded, muttering in agreement under their breaths.

•

Seonghwa rushed inside, slamming the door behind him, a drawn out sigh leaving his lips as he closed his umbrella. His heavy footsteps thudded across the floor, making it quite obvious that he was upset.

"I cannot believe the audacity..." He grumbled.

"What is it?" San rolled his eyes, knowing that if no one asked why Seonghwa was in a sour mood, he would continue to sigh and groan until someone said something. It's happened way too many times.

"Yeah, if you're gonna stomp around like that, you might as well just tell us." Jongho said.

"There was an adolescent standing on the sidewalk and he blew a cloud of vapors at me, to which I gave him a swift tongue lashing for, and he said I 'harshed his vibe.'"

You stifled a laugh.

"What does that mean?" Seonghwa asked aloud.

"Harshing someone's vibe means you're a party pooper." Yeosang muttered.

"I did not defecate on his celebration."

"No, Seonghwa it means he was having a good time and you ruined it." You spoke up, trying to clarify.

He let out an offended gasp.

"It's not that big of a deal. People say it all the time." Jongho shrugged. "It's not something to get bent out of shape about."

"I am perfectly upright, Jongho."

"That's not—" Jongho let out a long sigh. "Forget it."

•

You and the rest of the guys sat around the living room, each of you doing your own thing. You lifted your feet up, resting them on the coffee table as you looked around at everyone who suddenly appeared uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, a voice rang out.

"Get your feet off! That is mahogany from the 1800s." Seonghwa ran over, shooing your feet off the furniture.

"Who cares? It's old." You grumbled.

"It is in perfect condition. I do not need you scuffing it up." He huffed, pulling a handkerchief from his suit pocket, buffing the tabletop.

Out of the corner of your eye, just over Seonghwa's shoulder, Wooyoung was about to set a glass onto a side table beside his chair. Just before the bottom of the glass could make contact with the table, Seonghwa, in a split second and without looking back, flung a coaster over, the glass landing right on it.

"How many times to I have to tell you to use a coaster for your refreshments?"

"How did you-" Wooyoung started.

"I sensed it." Whispered Seonghwa.

•

"So, what kind of music do you guys listen to? I don't ever see you guys listening to any radios or anything."

"I am very fond of classical music." Seonghwa spoke up.

"Of course you are." You muttered.

"I kinda like 90s music." Hongjoong spoke up.

"I haven't listened to much music." San admitted.

"How about I show you guys some new stuff?" You suggested.

"I'm down." Jongho shrugged.

"Great!" You pulled out your phone, scrolling through YouTube, trying to figure out what they might like. "This one."

You tapped on a popular hip hop song, turning the volume up on your phone. As the song played, you watched as some of the boys began to bob their heads to the beat.

"I rather enjoy the rhythm of this music." Seonghwa commented.

"It slaps." Jongho spoke up.

"Pardon? The music did not slap us."

"No, slap is when the beat hits hard."

"That music did not touch me."

"No, idiot. You say something slaps when it's catchy." Jongho explained.

"These are sounds. We cannot catch them."

"You really need to learn some of the terms people use these days." Yeosang sighed.

•

You huffed as you trudged up the steps of the mansion, heading to Seonghwa's room. You found one of his rings sitting on one of the tables in the living room so you decided to put it in his bedroom. You pushed the door open and stepped inside, Seonghwa's coffin being the first thing you saw. You looked away, shivering a bit. The sight was always a little unnerving to you. He's the only one who still slept in a coffin. All the other guys slept in beds, but Seonghwa was old-fashioned, so you expected that from him.

You managed to bring your attention back to the task at hand and placed the ring inside his jewelry box. Just as you were about to leave, you spotted his closet door slightly ajar and hurried over to close it, but you stopped when something inside caught your eye. Slowly, you pulled the door open, a black cape hanging amongst the ruffled shirts and embellished suit jackets.

"No way." You whispered, reaching out to pull the garment off the hanger.

Sure enough, it was a black cape with maroon lining on the inside, a high collar at the top. An idea popped into your head as a mischievous grin spread across your lips.

You descended the stairs in the most elegant way possible, flipping the collar of the cape up.

"Look at me. I'm Seonghwa!" You announced, striding into the living room.

Jongho stifled a laugh as you sauntered around the room.

"Do not put your tainted feet on my mahogany table! I purchased that in a quaint town in Italy in 1876!" You mocked him, spouting off random dates and locations. "Doth thee not comprehend?"

Wooyoung busted out into a fit of high-pitched laugher, clapping his hands at your imitation of his friend.

"Wait wait wait." Hongjoong spoke up through laughter. "Do— do one of him when he hears a phrase he doesn't understand."

You quickly wiped the grin off your face and got serious.

"Pardon? Lit? If you are referring to the lighting in the room, then yes. It is lit very well."

"HA!" Yunho fell back, clutching his stomach.

Mingi collapsed on top of him, laughing loudly.

"Excuse me. Am I interrupting something?"

You froze upon hearing Seonghwa's voice. You slowly turned your head, almost afraid to face him.

"S-Seonghwa." You laughed nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"Last I recalled, I live here."

"Yeah. You do."

"Were you mocking me?"

"What? Psh. No." You waved your hand dismissively. "Not at all."

"She was just having fun, Seonghwa." Yeosang reasoned gently.

"I haven't laughed that hard in decades." San fell back on the couch, huffing.

Seonghwa looked at you, his eyes lingering on the cape you were sporting.

"Very well, then. I will excuse it, but only because you look rather adorable in my cape." He muttered the last part before hurrying off.

You stood there, knowing exactly what he said but not being able to process it.

"What?"

•

"Okay. First of all, you can shorten your words. For example, you say cannot but you can say can't."

"I am aware." Seonghwa muttered.

"See? You could have said I'm aware."

"I know."

"Then say it."

"No."

"Seonghwa, c'mon. You need to at least try it out. That way you don't stand out as much when you go out and converse with people."

"I do not wish to fit in. I am content speaking the way I do."

"Will you at least speak normally so I can hear what you would sound like?" You asked.

Seonghwa looked at you, his thick and sharp brows furrowed, wondering why on earth you would want to hear him speak so casually.

"Just this once?" You begged.

"I supposed it would not kill me." He gave in.

"Seonghwa is gonna say something normal?" Mingi shrieked, suddenly making an appearance.

"Really?" Wooyoung and San asked in unison, both of them sticking their heads into the room.

Within mere seconds all eight of the boys were gathered in the living room, their curiosities piqued after overhearing your conversation.

"I suppose this is entertaining to you all?" Seonghwa quirked a brow, looking around.

Everyone nodded their heads.

Seonghwa turned his gaze back to you with a sigh. "What would you like me to say?"

"Hmm." You thought for a moment. "Y/n, you're awesome. I'm so glad you moved in with us. It's been a blast."

"You want me to say that?"

You nodded.

He paused for a moment, clearly regretting his decision. "Y/n, you're awesome. I'm so glad you moved in with us. It's been a blast."

The sentence sounded foreign coming from Seonghwa, but it was a nice change from his usual fancy talk.

"Woah." You muttered. "That was... kind of attractive."

"What?" Shrieked Jongho. "I speak like that all the time and you never told me it was attractive."

Seonghwa chuckled darkly, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Well, my dear, if you enjoyed that so much, perhaps I should speak that way more often."

"Stop flirting with her!" Hongjoong shoved Seonghwa.

"I can do as I please."

"If you get to flirt with her, so do I." Yeosang spoke up.

"What did I get myself into?" You muttered under your breath.

•

"Y/nnn." Yunho pouted, dragging out your name. "I'm thirsty."

"Do we have any blood bags?" You asked absentmindedly.

"No."

"Well, go out and find someone to drink from."

"I was thinking something else."

You glanced over at him as he scooted closer.

"I know what you're thinking and it's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" He pouted as he began crawling across the couch.

"I don't want you to."

"C'mon, Y/n." He coaxed. "It won't hurt. You'll only feel a pinch. I promise."

His eyes flashed red as he hovered over you.

In a moment of panic, you reached over to the table beside the couch, pulling open the drawer and grabbing the first thing your hands could find.

A flashlight.

You had purchased it less than a week ago since the place was so poorly lit. You placed it in the drawer beside the couch as a temporary home and it seems to have come in handy.

You retrieved the flashlight from its spot, holding it out.

"Don't you dare." You pointed it at Yunho.

"What is that?" He asked, backing off a bit.

"It's portable sunlight." You lied.

Yunho let out a gasp, cowering away.

"Yeah, that's right. It's bright and it burns."

Yunho winced at your words before his face fell flat. "Wait. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

You raised a brow, keeping direct eye contact with him as you pointed the flashlight towards the wall and clicked the on button. Yunho let out a scream, immediately jumping behind the nearest piece of furniture.

"I'll use it on you if you don't stop bothering me. I don't care if you're my friend." You threatened, turning the flashlight off.

"Okay, okay, okay!" Yunho ducked behind the chair. "Please don't use the portable sunlight on me. I won't bother you."

"Good." You huffed, leaning back against the couch.

•

"Y/n, can I play on your phone?" Wooyoung asked with a pout.

"It needs to charge."

"Aw." He frowned.

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you guys get your own cell phones?"

Wooyoung furrowed his brows, blinking a few times. "I never thought about that."

"I have no need for one of these cellular devices you speak of." Seonghwa muttered, flipping through the newspaper.

"You might enjoy it." You told Seonghwa. "You can text the boys and download as much classical music as you want."

"I do not need to text my friends. I live under the same roof as them."

"Okay fine, forget the texting thing."

"Seonghwa, if we get phones you should get one too." Wooyoung said.

"I shall reiterate what I just told Y/n. I do not need one. Writing letters suffices."

"It does not. No one really writes letters anymore." You stated.

"What about bills, though?" Yunho spoke up.

"You guys can all get on family plan, it'll be cheaper." You answered simply.

"Ooh exciting." Mingi grinned. "Let's do it!"

"What do you think, Seonghwa?" Hongjoong inquired, turning to his friend.

"Fine." He sighed. "I suppose I can get one of these phones you speak so highly of."

"This is great! When should we go?" You asked.

"Right now!" Wooyoung stood up. "The sun isn't out much today. I think it'll be safe."

"Okay, then. Who's coming with me?"

"All of us!" San piped up.

"Not me." Seonghwa muttered.

"But you have to be there to choose your phone color." You pointed out.

"I do not care what color the phone is."

"I'm gonna get him a pink one." Yeosang whispered to Hongjoong.

"Alright, I shall join you." Seonghwa spoke quickly, setting his newspaper aside.

All nine of you piled into the black van they had for group outings. San was quick to push everyone aside so he could sit in the passenger's seat beside you, repeatedly calling shotgun as he scrambled into the seat.

You pulled up to the nearest cellphone carrier building and stepped inside. All eyes were on you and your group of friends as you walked through the store. You were sure you all looked like a rather strange group, but you couldn't be bothered by it. An employee came up right away to assist you all in your cellphone endeavors.

It took a while to get out of the store because Wooyoung and Mingi couldn't decide which color phone they wanted and Seonghwa kept stopping the employee every few seconds to ask what gigabyte and data was. Eventually, you pulled him aside and asked that he just let you take care of it. There was also a rather long conversation about wether the boys wanted unlimited data or not.

"Do you have wifi at your house?" The employee asked.

"What is w-" Seonghwa started, only to be discreetly jabbed in the side by Jongho.

"We don't." The youngest answered.

"Okay, then you'll want the unlimited data."

After being in the store for over an hour, you finally made it out, all eight of the boys with brand new cellphones.

"I have my own phone!" Wooyoung squeaked, holding up his newly activated device.

"That was rather expensive." Seonghwa commented.

"Yeah but did you see the look on that guy's face when you dropped all those coins onto the counter?" Jongho laughed.

"It was as if he had never seen money before." Seonghwa remarked.

"That's because no one uses that kind of money anymore. It's like really old and valuable." You spoke up.

"Old?!" Seonghwa shrieked.

"Yeah." You answered bluntly.

"Well, if you think about it, we're all old. We've been vampires since like the mid 1800s." Yeosang pointed out.

"Yeah, but we don't act old." Jongho mentioned. "Seonghwa does, though."

"Oh no." You muttered, knowing there was about to be an argument.

"I do not act old. I am simply being a proper and elegant gentleman."

"Guys please." You sighed. "Argue when we get home."

"What app should I download first?" Yunho asked, seemingly oblivious to what was just happening.

•

"I got a phone. I got a phone." Mingi sang as he skipped cheerfully through the house, swinging his arms as he did so.

Suddenly, the phone slipped out of his hand, clattering to the floor causing everyone to freeze. The room was dead silent as everyone started at the phone lying face down on the floor.

"Guys." You held your hands out. "It's okay."

You crept towards the phone, slowly picking it off the ground, almost too afraid to look at the screen. You hesitantly flipped it around and glanced at it, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw the screen was still in tact.

"It's okay guys!" You announced, holding the phone up causing the boys to let out a collective sigh of relief.

"You have to be careful with this." You informed him, handing the phone back to Mingi. "It's very delicate. You can't drop it on any hard surfaces and you can't get it wet."

"Okay." He nodded. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Just be careful."

•

"Mingi!" You called.

"Yes?" He appeared in front of you in an instant.

"I got something for you."

"Ooh! A gift?"

"Sort of." You pulled out a large protective phone case that you had hidden behind your back, handing it to Mingi.

"What's this?" He questioned.

"It's a protective phone case."

"It's kind of bulky."

"That's the point. It'll help protect your phone if you drop it."

He pursed his lips, putting the case on his phone.

"I don't really like it."

"Too bad. You need to get used to having a phone and practice not dropping it. Then you can have a different case."

"Okay." Mingi frowned.

Days went by and Mingi really didn't like his new phone case. It wasn't quite fair to him that he was the only one with an ugly case.

"How come I have to be babied and have a big, bulky phone case?" He whined.

"Because you're the one who dropped your phone first." You told him.

"Don't be upset, Mingi. You're setting an example for us." Jongho said.

"Yeah we're learning from you." Yunho added.

"Really?" Mingi beamed.

They nodded.

He puffed up his chest proudly before sauntering off.

•

"Y/n!" San called while running up to you. "Look what I did!" He turned his phone around so you could see it.

Your jaw nearly fell to the floor when you saw a Tinder profile on the screen. His Tinder profile. A mirror selfie of San with his index finger on his bottom lip was displayed on the majority of the screen.

"San."

"Yes?"

"You have to delete that."

"What? Why? Is it not sexy?" He asked, looking at the photo.

"No, San, listen to me. You have to take down your profile. Delete the app."

"My date will be upset." He frowned.

"Date?" You gaped, feeling a tinge of jealousy.

"Yeah. Look." He showed you someone's profile, that someone being Billie Eilish.

"San, that's Billie Eilish."

"I know. She told me who she was."

"Do you even know who she is?" You questioned.

"Someone who wants to go on a date with me." He grinned proudly.

"No. She's a famous singer."

"Oh. That's so cool!"

"It's not."

"Why?"

"Because that's not actually her."

"But she's talking to me. How could it not be her? I have our messages."

"There's this thing called catfishing. It's where people pretend to be someone they're not. Usually they're pretending to be celebrities." You informed him.

"What?" He frowned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I guess I should delete my profile." He dropped his head. "Here. Can you do it for me?" He held his phone out.

"Of course." You took it from him, deleting the profile and the app before handing it back.

"Hey. How about we watch a movie or something?"

San still looked upset, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

"I'll let you cuddle with me." You nudged him.

His head shot up, eyes sparkling as thoughts of his deleted Tinder profile went out the window.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" He picked you up, speeding off to your bedroom which held the only TV in the house, thanks to you.

•

Not long after the boys got phones, Yunho and San were begging to make a group chat. Seonghwa was absolutely against it, but he got added anyway, much to his distaste.

"We can name it?" Hongjoong exclaimed, his mouth hanging open.

"Yes you can."

"Ooh! Let's name it Vamp Squad." Yunho suggested.

"That's lame." Jongho shot the idea down immediately.

"How about Fang Gang?" Wooyoung suggested while striking a pose.

"Lame." Muttered Jongho.

"I don't know. It's kinda cool." You admitted.

After getting your approval, Wooyoung immediately went to typing on his phone.

Wooyoung changed the group name to Fang Gang

"Awesome." He grinned.

"Let's text right now!" Yeosang suggested, eager to see what being in a group chat was like.

"We are in the same room." Seonghwa pointed out.

"You guys can do that." You smiled, causing everyone, besides Seonghwa, to become excited.

Mingi

Hi

:)

"How did you do that?" Jongho looked up at Mingi with his mouth agape.

"The two dots and the moon shape." Mingi explained with a cute smile.

"Those are called emoticons. You can use semicolons, colons, parentheses, and more to make faces. Watch this."

You

;)

:(

:3

:0

:]

"Woaahh." The boys marveled at your little emoticon faces.

"You guys have emojis too." You pointed out. "They're like emoticons but with way more detail. Tap the little icon at the bottom of your keypad."

The boys tapped away on their phones, gasping even they saw the abundance of emojis.

Yunho

😀😎👋🏻

Hongjoong

❄️🍇🍉🧀🏀

Jongho

🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🧛🏻‍♂️🙋‍♀️

That's us :)

"Okay you guys are having way too much fun with this." You shook your head, unable to hold back the fond smile pulling at your lips.

"Yes we are." Jongho nodded.

"I have so many emojis at my disposal." Wooyoung murmured, his eyes gleaming as he scrolled past the different categories.

"There's an emoji for everything!" Yeosang gaped.

"There is." You nodded. "It's actually amazing."

"So what do emojis do?" Hongjoong inquired.

"They help show a bit of emotion through text. Hence the name emoji."

"Ah." Hongjoong nodded. "So if I'm happy I can use the happy face and if I'm angry I can use the angry face."

"Yes."

"Cool." He whispered in amazement, a smile on his face as he looked at the phone.

San

Seonghwa

Seonghwa

Hey

Seonghwa hey

Seonghwa glared across the room at San, his eyes flashing red as a threat. "Stop."

San stuck his tongue out in response.

The group chat continued to blow up throughout the day. Most of the time it was just random emojis and words. You couldn't find it in yourself to be annoyed. In fact, you found it cute how they were all so excited about texting.

Yunho

Hey Y/n. Wsbatarw you dojng

You

What?

Jongho

What are you trying to say?

Yunho

I askd howjs she wa doibfg

You

I see

You're using that vampire speed of yours to respond quickly but you're making lots of typos in the process LOL

Yunho

Shut up

Yuo don't kneow tbat

You clamped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

•

"Is that my blanket?" Yeosang asked Wooyoung.

"Yeah."

"You didn't ask to use it."

"I didn't think I needed to." He shrugged.

"Give it back." Yeosang demanded, holding his hand out.

"What? No, I'm using it."

"It's my blanket."

"I don't care."

"Give it back or I'll use the portable sunlight on you." He threatened.

"You won't." Wooyoung chuckled bitterly.

"Alright, bet."

Yeosang snatched the flashlight from the drawer, turning it on before Wooyoung had a chance to react. He let out a hiss, shielding himself. He quickly realized that the light wasn't hot nor was it burning him. At the very least, it was mildly irritating to his eyes.

"What?" Yeosang muttered, crestfallen.

"HA!" Wooyoung laughed, pointing at Yeosang.

"Stop laughing! Do you know what this means?" He asked, clicking off the flashlight.

"What?" Wooyoung questioned, oblivious.

"This isn't actually portable sunlight. Y/n tricked us."

Wooyoung's eyes widened.

•

You headed down the steps, towards the living room area hearing lots of hushed whispers. As soon as you stepped into the room it went quiet, everyone's eyes on you.

"Why is everyone gathered here?"

"I would like to know the same thing." Seonghwa huffed, looking agitated.

Wooyoung crossed his legs, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

"We need to talk."

"Why are you acting like I'm in trouble?" You chuckled, taking a seat beside Mingi.

"Because you are." Yeosang spoke up.

"Why?"

He held up the flashlight you often used to keep the boys away from you.

"This isn't portable sunlight." He stated.

You eyes widened, knowing they were onto you.

"It's not?" Mingi sat up.

"No. It appears to be some sort of miniature light. It's not sun at all." Yeosang informed the group.

"Are you kidding me?" Yunho exploded.

"It took you this long to figure it out?" Jongho spoke up. "I figured it out already."

"What?" Everyone looked at Jongho angrily.

"And you didn't think to tell us?" Hongjoong asked.

"I enjoyed seeing you all get so scared when Y/n threatened you." He chuckled.

"Y/n, please explain yourself." San crossed his arms.

"Okay. I lied. It's just a flashlight, nothing more. I just needed something to use to keep you guys away from me." You admitted.

"If you wished to have space you should have asked." Seonghwa stated.

"Not everyone listens." You spoke pointedly, eyeing San and Wooyoung.

"We just love you so much." San spoke cutely.

"You have a unique way of showing it."

•

You walked into the kitchen in search of a snack, needing something to hold you over before dinner. Pulling open the pantry door, you peered inside to see what there was to choose from.

"Whatcha doing?" Yeosang's smooth voice inquired softly.

"Looking for a snack."

"I see a snack right here in front of me."

You spun around to face him. "Excuse me?"

It wasn't often Yeosang made comments like that, so it caught you off guard.

"You heard me." He hummed, his eyes flashing red.

"Yeosang, please." You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge. "I am not in the mood for this."

"What do you think you're doing?" Hongjoong's voice rang out.

You snapped your head towards the entrance of the kitchen seeing Hongjoong standing in the doorway. He stomped up to Yeosang and jerked him away.

"I asked you a question." He snapped.

"She smelled nice and I'm thirsty." Yeosang answered plainly.

"Well, go out and find someone to feed off of. You know Y/n is off limits." Hongjoong said as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

Before he could respond, Hongjoong grabbed your hand.

"C'mon, Y/n." He muttered, pulling you out of the room and into another where you could be alone. "Are you alright?" He asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

The caring and gentle gesture had your cheeks feeling warm.

"I'm fine." You told him.

"You sure?"

You nodded.

Hongjoong pulled you into a hug.

"I'm sorry about Yeosang." He muttered.

"It's fine. I'm honestly used to it at this point." You chuckled, giving him a pat on the back.

You started to pull away, but Hongjoong held you still.

"Hongjoong-"

"You do smell good." He whispered.

You quickly shoved him away. Hongjoong claimed to have the second best control in the group and he more than likely wasn't going to do anything, but you weren't willing to test that theory.

"Jeez. You too?" You huffed, stalking away.

"Y/n?" Yunho called as you stepped into the living room.

"Hey! I was looking for you." Wooyoung spoke up as he descended the stairs.

San appeared out of nowhere and nearly tackled you in a hug, nuzzling his face against your cheek.

"San, please. I'm really not in the mood." You huffed, wiggling out of his grip. "I'll use the..." You trailed off, realizing you couldn't use the flashlight as a threat anymore.

"Yeah. That's right." Wooyoung chuckled, a smug grin on his face. "You don't have your portable sunlight anymore. How are you gonna get rid of us?"

Without a word, you spun around and immediately started walking towards the front entrance.

"Where are you going?" San asked.

"Out to eat. I was thinking of getting pizza for dinner—with extra garlic."

"How could you?" They gasped.

You smirked, reaching out to open the door only to be stopped.

"I'm sorry." Yunho wailed, dropping to his knees and latching onto your leg.

"Me too!" Wooyoung declared dramatically, following what Yunho did.

"We'll leave you alone. Please don't eat garlic." Yunho cried out.

"You two are the biggest babies." You sighed, ruffling their hair playfully. "I'm not going anywhere."

•

"Hey do you remember when we first met?" Mingi asked.

"Yes. At a social gathering in 18-" Seonghwa was immediately cut off.

"Not us. Y/n."

"Oh yeah." You chuckled at the memory. "I remember it very well.”

*flashback*

You stood on the cramped bus as it drove down the busy streets of Seoul. You had been staying in a hotel for about three days and your search for a place to live was bearing no results. You thought you had a place lined up, but someone else who was willing to pay more money got it instead. You released a long sigh, your eyes glancing down at a man sitting in one of the seats lining the walls of the bus. You couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have found a seat. Your eyes traveled down to the open newspaper in the man's hands, spotting a small section off to the side labeled: ROOMMATE WANTED in large letters. Your eyes widened upon seeing the announcement, taking a brief glance at the name of the newspaper, making sure to remember it.

You got off at the next stop, searching for the nearest newspaper dispenser, spotting one for the newspaper publisher you were in search of. You hurriedly fished out some coins, dropping them into the coin slots before pulling out one of the papers, hastily flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for.

ROOMMATE WANTED

Name: Kim Hongjoong

Rooms: 10

Bathrooms: 3

Looking for a roommate who knows how to drive or can provide transportation. Must be able to run errands at any time of the day.

If you are interested please stop by any time.

You furrowed your brows after reading the requirements.

"That's an odd request." You muttered to yourself.

But ten bedrooms? That's crazy. It made you wonder how many people lived there currently.

Less than 30 minutes later you found yourself standing in front of a large mansion. The outside was a bit unkempt and weathered, but nice nonetheless. You reached up and gave a few knocks to the large front door. Moments later, it creaked open, a man with dark hair stood inside. His attire was a bit odd and somewhat Victorian. He had on a dressy shirt with large, ruffled sleeves, a gray and silver vest, and black dress pants.

"Can I help you?" He asked, his voice soft and airy.

"Yes. I'm here about the ad in the paper." You held it up. "Are you Kim Hongjoong?"

"I am. Please, come inside." He stepped aside, allowing you to walk in.

You were immediately rendered speechless at the mansion's interior, marveling at the exquisite and vintage-like decor.

"Who is that?" Someone stuck their head into the room.

"Do we have a guest?" A second person piped up.

"It's just someone who saw our ad in the paper." Hongjoong informed the two.

"A potential roommate?" A third person came hurrying into the room.

"Possibly. Go get the others, please." Hongjoong requested. "You can have a seat over there." He gestured towards a red couch sitting against the wall.

You took a seat, watching as more and more guys entered the room. Five, six, seven.

What did I get myself into? You thought.

"Who is this?" An eighth man with dark hair and similar attire as Hongjoong asked while striding into the room.

The way he carried himself was that of a dignified man, his aura intimidating. It was clear he held some authority, like Hongjoong, but unlike the latter, he didn't have a friendly vibe.

"This is..." Hongjoong trailed off, turning to you.

"Y/n. My name is Y/n." You spoke up, introducing yourself.

"Right, Y/n. She is here about the roommate ad."

The dark-haired guy turned towards Hongjoong, pulling him off to the side. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the house was so quiet you couldn't help it.

"We already discussed this. I do not want a human living with us."

What? Did I hear that correctly?

"Seonghwa, be quiet." Hongjoong shushed. "She's right there."

"I explicitly told you not to put that ad in the paper." The one named Seonghwa whispered harshly.

"Just give her a chance." Hongjoong pleaded.

"Very well."

"Alright." Hongjoong approached you, clasping his hands together as he took a seat across from you. "You said you were interested in possibly staying here, correct?"

"Yes. I just moved here less than a week ago and I haven't been very lucky so far."

"How so?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"Well, for starters, the day I got here, the house I was supposed to move into was sold to someone with more money."

"That is quite unfortunate." Muttered a brown-haired guy who seemed to be keeping to himself. He had a rather strong build and you could tell he stayed in shape.

"I wasn't aware there were eight of you here." You mentioned. "I also didn't realize it was all men living here. Are you looking for a male roommate specifically?"

"We don't mind sharing the house with a woman." A man with sharp catlike eyes and dimples smiled, shooting you a wink.

Hongjoong shot him a warning glance before turning back to you.

"Apologies. The ad in the newspaper was my idea which is why only my name was listed."

"I see."

"You seem a bit apprehensive." A long-haired blonde with extremely handsome features commented.

"Just a little, but I'm also pretty desperate to find a place to live."

"You can drive, right?" A tall blonde asked. His features were soft and reminded you of a puppy.

"Yeah." You nodded. "I don't have a car though."

"That's alright. We have a van." He informed you.

"You don't use it?"

"None of us know how to drive."

"Ah."

"Well, Wooyoung tried driving once but he nearly crashed into the house." A brunette with a deep voice spoke up.

"I told you I was sorry." The one named Wooyoung whined.

"If I wasn't already dead, you would have killed me."

"Shut up." The seemingly quiet brown-haired guy elbowed the taller one in the side.

You gave them both an odd glance before looking back at Hongjoong who appeared quite nervous.

"So, what do you think?" He asked suddenly.

"Well..." You trailed off.

"You wouldn't have to pay any rent or anything." He spoke up.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

You were apprehensive at first, considering there were eight guys staying there, but they all seemed pretty friendly. Plus, this might be your only chance to find a place to live.

"Okay." You nodded.

"You'll move in?" Asked Hongjoong.

"Yes."

"Before you do that," Seonghwa started, stepping past Hongjoong. "There is something you should know about us."

He began circling you, eyeing you up and down before stopping at your side. You glanced over at him as he leaned in, towering over you.

"We are vampires." He spoke lowly.

You let out a loud laugh. "You're pulling my leg, right?"

Seonghwa stepped away, glancing down at your legs. "I did not touch your leg."

"Sorry about him." Wooyoung spoke up. "He's stuck in 1842."

1842?

"I'm sorry, what?" You blinked.

"You guys are making her nervous." Hongjoong hurried over.

"Good." Seonghwa muttered.

"You're not playing a prank on me?"

"No." Answered Seonghwa.

Your gaze moved across the room, taking in the appearance of everyone standing around. All eight of them wore similar outdated, Victorian-style attire. That's when it clicked.

"So, you guys really are vampires?"

They all nodded.

You looked over at Hongjoong who had a guilty expression on his face.

"Okay." You took a step back, holding your hands up. "As long as no one bites me, I'm okay with this."

"What?" Seonghwa exclaimed, clearly upset that you accepted the offer.

"You don't mind?" The tall guy with the deep voice asked, his brown eyes sparkling as his lips stuck out in a pout.

"No. Actually, I think it's pretty cool."

*end of flashback*

"I can't believe Seonghwa didn't want me to move in."

"Apologies. I did not trust humans at the time."

"It's fine. That was two years ago, anyway. Plus, I've grown on you, haven't I?" You grinned. "C'mon. Admit it."

Seonghwa cracked a smile. "I suppose."

•

You stepped into the large and spacious common room where everyone was gathered. "Hey, guys. I've invited some friends over for dinner. So I'm gonna need you guys to not be weird. Also please stay out of the kitchen."

"What kind of friends are coming over?" Yunho inquired.

"Yeah. Are they guys?" San piped up.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Two." You answered.

"Do they like you?"

"San, they're just my friends. Please just let me spend time with them, okay?"

They all agreed, nodding their heads in acknowledgment.

You went to the kitchen and started preparing a quick and simple meal, thinking it would be nice to have something made at home for once instead of delivery. You began plating the food just as there was a knock on the front door.

"I got it!" You announced, hurrying out of the dining room and rushing to answer the door before anyone else could. "You all stay right there." You pointed to the boys all sat around the living room.

You cleared your throat and turned towards the door before opening it.

"Jungwoo, Taeyong. Hi."

"Hi, Y/n." Jungwoo gave a warm smile.

"I hope you two are hungry. I made dinner myself."

"I'm starving." Taeyong grinned excitedly.

"Come on in." You stepped aside, allowing them to walk inside.

You glanced over at San who seemed to be glaring at your two acquaintances along with the other boys.

You let Taeyong and Jungwoo walk ahead of you as you made an "I've got my eyes on you." gesture to the group of vampires in the living room.

You already had the dining room set up and the food plated. Taeyong rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he sat down at the table.

"This place is incredible." Jungwoo commented, gazing around at the fancy dining room.

"Thanks."

"Who were those guys in the living room?" Taeyong asked.

"My roommates."

"All of them?"

"Yeah but this house is big enough for all of us."

"You got really lucky." Jungwoo said before taking a bite of pasta. "Seriously. You're living the high life."

"Eh." You shrugged. "Sort of. Some of my roommates are a bit clingy."

As if on cue, San came striding in, pulling out the chair beside you and taking a seat.

"Exhibit A." You gestured to him.

Taeyong and Jungwoo chuckled.

"San. What are you doing?"

"I thought I would have dinner with you all." He grinned cheekily, showing off his dimples.

You chewed on your lip, giving him a hard glare.

San smirked in response, reaching into the basket of freshly-baked bread sitting on the table. He took a bite, clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon.

As he chewed, he furrowed his brows, coughing a few times. San reached up and scratched at his face a bit.

"Why is my face so itchy?" He asked aloud.

Your eyes widened as they trailed down to the piece of bread in his hand.

"What kind of bread is this?" He asked.

"It's garlic bread."

San froze, blinking a few times. "What bread?"

"Garlic bread."

His eyes went wide. He immediately dropped the bread onto the table, pushing himself out of his chair. "Excuse me." He spoke calmly before sprinting out of the room.

"Is he okay?" Taeyong asked, his brows creased with worry.

"He's fine! He's... got a gluten allergy." You lied.

"He didn't know that was bread?" Jungwoo questioned.

"Ah. Well, you see, we buy gluten-free bread for him and he didn't know the difference."

Jungwoo and Taeyong nodded.

"Well, I hope he's alright." Taeyong frowned.

"He's fine." You waved your hand dismissively.

Serves him right.

•

You were cleaning the living room/common room area of the house, making sure Seonghwa's precious mahogany coffee table was spotless and free of smudges or scuffs. It didn't require much cleaning since Seonghwa did such a good job of buffing it out every single day.

As you were checking the tabletop for any blemishes, you noticed a small notebook sitting on the edge. You picked it up, running your fingers along the cover. It was just slightly bigger than your hand and bound in black leather.

You didn't want to pry, but your curiosity got the best of you. You opened up the notebook to the cover page, the name Park Seonghwa written in perfect calligraphy.

Is this a journal perhaps? You wondered.

You flipped to the next page which was covered in notes of some sort.

Cool - Does not mean cold. It means you are excellent.

Lit - Does not refer to lighting. It means all the rage.

TV - A strange picture box used for entertainment.

Wifi - Helps access the "internet".

Data - Similar to wifi. Can only be used on a cell phone.

Vaping - Something I detest very much. Seriously, I do not understand these adolescents and their electronic nicotine sticks.

You chuckled at his small side note before continuing to read down the list.

Sick - Another word for "cool". When someone says "That's sick!" it does not mean ill.

Dope - Yet another word for "cool" or "sick".

You flipped through a few more pages, seeing that all of them were notes on slang terms. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back a smile as you closed the journal, placing it back where you found it and waking away.

Part 2

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Yesterday, there was a terrorist attack, two people were stabbed in the area where my mom's cousin and his wife live. I found out about it as I was returning from a medical appointment, going through a road where in Nov, a terrorist shot to death a young Israeli man.

Based on what the IDF has found of Hamas' armaments (which surpassed Israeli estimates), based on how things stand now, Hamas would be capable of continuing to fire rockets into Israel for at least 2-3 more years. That's why, even as the fighting continues, there are new defensive measures that will be built along road 232, the same road mentioned in the NYT's article about the Hamas rapes during the Oct 7 massacre.

Speaking of that article, apparently despite the insane amount of evidence in it, and mentioned recently in regards to the subject of the rapes, some are trying to deny that this part of the massacre happened. This is a perfect response (IMO) from feminists.againstantisemitism on IG:

Cyberwell, a watch dog that monitors antisemitism on social media, has reported a sharp rise in antisemitic posts since Oct 7. And not just of the new, anti-Zionist kind. There has been a rise in 1000% in posts accusing Jews of killing Jesus (yes, the Jew crucified by Romans almost 2,000 years ago... funny how you never see people going around saying Italians killed Jesus... almost like the whole thing isn't about who actually killed Jesus, and more about providing yet another excuse for antisemitism, a hatred that pre-dates Jesus), and 1600% in the hashtag saying that Hitler was right, the guy whose antisemitic, genocidal ideology, the attackers, maimers, rapists, kidnappers and murderers of Oct 7 would happily co-sign. All of this, while the world appropriates the Jewish slogan "never again" to use against Jews defending themselves. Make it make sense.

And here's a reminder that what starts online, doesn't stay online. There have been unprecedented levels of antisemitism in many places, including in New Zealand. What got to me the most is the report on antisemitic incidents targeting school kids, and that only 40% of parents report these (sometimes 'coz previous cases have not been treated right, or the school is seen as being ill-equipped to deal with antisemitism). A 2021 survey found that 60% of New Zealanders agreed with antisemitic statements, so it might be argued that this recent outburst has been waiting to happen for a while, just waiting for an excuse to.

Here's another piece that I sadly could only find in Hebrew so far. It reveals some more of the interrogations of Hamas terrorists, this time covering how Hamas terrorizes civilians in Gaza. Here's my loose translation of a testimony's summary, from a Palestinian Islamic Jihad terrorist (Muhammed Darwish Amare). It can be found (with the full testimony in the vid and appearing) at the above link: "Someone told me that they took explosives, to place them from his apartment to a spot 2 meters (6.5 feet) away from him. The man came down and told [the terrorist]: 'Oh man, how are you placing the explosives by the door, and then if they explode, my kids and I will be gone.' He responded, 'If you don't like it, then get out of here.' The apartment owner said to him, 'These are my kids, this isn't right,' and the explosives placer replied, 'I will lay them even if you don't like it, and I will even place them between you and your wife.' Then he took out his pistol and shot the apartment owner in the leg."

Another testimony, found at the same link, this one is of a former Hamas member (Zuhady Ali Zahdy Shahi): "I felt that we civilians are human shields. Why should we protect them? We want to be saved, too. That's Hamas' mistake. People left their house [during the fighting], and there was a safe passage, because the army told us to go south, that there will be food and water there. They drew a safe passage for us, and then we ran into [Hamas terrorists], who made us go into one of the neighborhoods. They told us, 'No one is going south, there are bombings, and no one can continue on the street.' We went into the Shifa hospital, and we got stuck inside. [The terrorists] sat among us, with the civilians. They were scared of the soldiers. I even argued with one of them, and told him, 'Your place isn't here, with the civilians, but downstairs [in the terror tunnels].' He told me that the moment the war would be over, he will punish me, he started threatening me." When asked what he thought of the IDF, Shahi said, "Truth is, based on what I've seen, I wish you would stay with us. If they would have stayed where we lived, we wouldn't be starving. The moment the army came into Shifa, we were scared of what would be done with us, but it was the opposite. They brought us food and water, and sat with us. We felt safe."

This is 56 years old Ilan Weiss.

His 53 years old wife Shiri and 18 years old daughter Noa were kidnapped by Hamas, and released in the hostage deal. Ilan himself, who was a member of the emergency team at kibbutz Be'eri, left his house on the morning of the massacre, as first reports came in, and wasn't heard of again. He was considered missing (meaning, it was unknown whether he was kidnapped or killed on Oct 7). Today it was announced that his body was identified, and he had been murdered during the massacre. May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[morgansplace]

REDACTED AWARDS 2024 🎤 hosted by @plaqying

SO. I've been a lasko guy since I discovered the channel thanks to one of his audios back in 2021, which was his first hot boi summer.

1. He's literally been the whole theme for my blog for months

2. There's not a single fucking day where I don't think about this man. It is CONCERNING

3. I can't shut up about him.

4. I have all his audios memorized thanks to how many times I've listened to them.

5. I once sat down and wrote his non-canon confession WORD BY WORD for the sake of a self-indulgence fic I was writing for myself.

6. I have more than ten Google docs about fl/lasko and dear/lasko fics that I wrote for no one other than myself.

7. He's the character everyone thinks of when they think about me

8. I have a tag dedicated to him so I can find the posts I make/reblog about him [#las posting]

9. Dear is my self insert.

10. I literally only post about him vvv

11. I have a photo of his icon on my homescreen

12. My username on some social media platforms is quite literally @/laskosbf

13. I have so many headcanons about him as a character that I've lost count

14. Even though my top 5 redacted guys has changed a lot since I started listening, Lasko has always been #1

15. When his first audio meeting Dear came out a bunch of people started tagging me and asking if I was okay or if I had died from shock (I was NOT okay😭)

16. I've been told by a bunch of mutuals (and non mutuals too) that they recognize me as "the lasko guy"

17. Even my non-redacted fan friends know about him because I can't shut up about that man

18. I check the redacted lasko tag multiple times throughout the day

19. APPARENTLY IVE SAID HIS NAME 900+ TIMES ON A DISCORD SERVER??? WHAT

20. He's one of my top kins

21. I used his name for my favorite thing in stardew valley vvv

22. I used the description from his yt Playlist for my wsp name (and other socials too) vvv

23. Back in 2021 when I was decorating my closet I wrote his name in a bunch of little sticky notes and I put them all over the space. I also doodled his icon on the wooden walls of it with a black marker 😰

24. pretty self explanatory I think (my tumblr header)

Idk man. Liking lasko is a personality trait of mine. I think these are enough proof 😭😭😭