#~ Railway of Fools ~

[residentialsinyomakai]

Hihihello! I bring you. Art dump of 87% oc stuff....I lava my ocs :)

THE GUY EVER....Name can be spelled either Paisley or Pagely, but he does prefer the latter :) A little off his rocker!! He's part of a little story thing a few of my other friends and I have made geyhshshdd.... (Also should I include pronouns in these things? Do people read them? I'll put them in the image descs)

Putting the rest'a this under a cut because I get more insane from here on (●^▽^●)!!

(On my end the quality here is BAD....eyyyikes)

Pais + more!! TV prick named Yix (/aff) belongs to my friend @cutsvyr ^u^ context for half of this is loose but you can see th' Forsaken obsession forming...

Other guy that I have giggles,, This is FRANCIS CALAVERA!!! Or just Fran. Or not. He doesn't care

He's a new hire at the office thing, him and Pagely work together far too much for his liking but thrhye....get along....👍 OK doodle dump time, time to hit the image limit

If you look closely you can see Yix and Pais holding hands,,,z,z,,,,it was a collarb,zz,,,z,zzz, A LOT of this was on whiteboard because I love love LOVE doing whiteboards now that I know how to use em!! Had a human design in the works too guwahaha ×u× I'll have to post some stuff from my Fortelling here too sometime...

Because this is my house and I make the rules I'm subjecting you guys to a few more ocs with NO CONTEXT!! HORRAY 🗣💥💥

This is Miguel! (Yes I did have to censor that one image if you're wondering why it looks off. Dont @ me) Self-proclaimed guardian angel whose probably more anxious than they need to be,, Can open small portal things about the size of a torso without causing too much stress on the body yknow?

They do have a sort of 'rivals' type thing with an in-universe version of my sona with lore called Alt :) or at least. As a nickname so things don't get confusing. OK more doodles and then you lot can go home

Guy in the first pic's unfinished doodle thing is Prince, he belongs to my other friend @/suppai-limes +u+ ily pookie frfr 🤭 might show that one in a later dump if I like it!

Forsaken brainrot whiteboard stuff is probably coming soon be warned....especially with 007n7....OKIE DOKI THATS ALL FOR NOW GOODBYE !!

[duskstargazer]

Toby groaned as he felt warmth spread through his boiler. He stared out towards the houses beyond the station yard. Immediately, he felt off. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place it.

“Mornin’, old boy.” His driver said in the mostly groggy voice the tram engine had grown used to hearing.

“Phil… you left me facing backwards again.” Toby grunted. This meant they’d have to turn him around before starting work.

“No, we didn’t…” The driver paused. “Nevermind. We can work around it.”

“‘Work around it’?” Toby raised an eyebrow. “How hard is it to turn me around? There’s a turntable right behind me.”

The crew shared a look, then climbed into Toby’s cab.

[ / ]

Toby collected his first train, then set off down the line. As he trundled along, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

“You seem tentative.” Observed the stoker.

“Sorry, I just feel… strange.” Toby admitted. “As though there’s something not quite right here.”

“Hm. Everything seems as it always is - at least to me.”

Just then, they heard Hermes’s whistle. Toby blinked, as a very unfamiliar engine with four wheels and a tender came rushing past with a milk train.

“Who was that?!” Toby gasped.

“Who do you mean?”

“That green engine that just passed by. I’ve never seen them before.”

The stoker bit his lip, and busied himself with tending to Toby’s fire.

[ / ]

Toby pulled into the junction. Generally, he had to wait for Thomas to arrive with his coaches before he could proceed to the big station.

Toby was too busy thinking about the small green engine he’d seen back up the branch line to worry about Thomas, though.

The unmistakable bark of James’s whistle cut across the station. Toby perked up, only for his eyes to go wide, and his face pale. An engine wearing James’s livery and bearing his number strode into the platform - but the engine looked almost nothing like James. It had massive tanks on either side of the boiler for one, and no tender for another.

“What’s the matter, Toby?” The engine grinned, sounding a frightening amount like James. “Didn’t recognise me?”

“Uh- not at all, I mean-” Toby began. The engine interrupted.

“I know, it’s been quite a while since I last had a new coat of paint. I think the old coat was starting to fade.”

“It’s not that!” Toby stammered, finding his voice. “I just- since when were you a tank engine?!”

“…”

“I’m sorry?” The tank engine blinked.

“What happened between you and Gordon and Henry that made you change? How even-”

“What are you talking about?” ‘James’ scoffed. “I’ve always been a prairie tank!”

Toby stared blankly.

“Sheesh, what’s in the water up at Ulfstead? I know we have an ale brewery around Ffarquhar, but I can’t see how any of their waste ended up in your boiler!”

The bewildered tram engine tried to retort, but ‘James’’s guard sounded her whistle, and the red engine set off up Thomas’s branch line, laughing loudly at his own wit.

[ / ]

Toby marched on towards the big station, determined to work out what had gone wrong with James.

He almost stopped in the middle of the junction, however, when he saw two more unfamiliar engines in the yard.

Cautiously, Toby made his way over.

“Um, hello.” He said, awkwardly.

“Morning, Toby!” The blue engine smiled.

“Hello,” The green engine added.

Toby eyed the blue engine’s tender. And the number one painted on it.

The tram engine swallowed hard.

“So, ‘Thomas’,” The tram engine forced out, “I’m surprised I didn’t see you on our branch line earlier.”

“Branch line?” ‘Thomas’ repeated, sounding surprised. “Toby, I don’t have a branch line.”

Toby’s mouth hung open.

‘Thomas’, and the engine Toby was beginning to guess was ‘Duck’, shared a look as though they had no idea what he was on about.

“Thomas and I work on the main line.” ‘Duck’ said, slowly.

“Then what of the Ffarquhar branch? Or the Arlesburgh line?” Toby asked, desperate.

“You mean James’s branch line?” ‘Thomas’ asked.

“…”

“Yeah, James has worked the Ffarquhar line since he first arrived in the ‘20’s.” ‘Thomas’ said, giving Toby another odd look.

“And Duc- The L- the Arlesburgh Branch?”

“You mean the Caley Branch?” ‘Duck’ asked.

“…Caley?”

‘Thomas’ and ‘Duck’ exchanged another look.

“…Lord Callan’s Castle is up there, and the Caledonian tank engines work there.” ‘Duck’ explained. “I thought you knew that?”

“Caley being short for Caledonian,” ‘Thomas’ added. “Donald and Douglas are the ‘Caledonian Twins’.”

“You two don’t see anything wrong with this?” Toby blurted out, having lost patience.

“…Wrong with what?” ‘Thomas’ asked.

“Somehow, overnight, everyone seems to have swapped designs! You two - assuming you’re still Thomas and Duck - are tender engines, and James is a prairie tank!!”

The two tender engines exchanged another look. One implying that Toby had lost it.

“…and?” ‘Thomas’ prompted. “You say that as if anything’s changed. As far as I remember, I was never a tank engine. Nor was Duck.”

“And I think James would kill you if he heard you saying he was built a tender engine.” ‘Duck’ scoffed.

“Maybe you should try talking with Edward.” ‘Thomas’ offered. “He’s always able to help us out with our struggles. Maybe he can work out what’s up with you as well.”

Edward.

“Alright, I will.” Toby said, with newfound resolve. “He’ll be able to help me figure out what’s going on.”

[ / ]

Toby found a train bound for Edward’s Station and set off as quickly as he could. He just hoped that Edward was still the same, or he didn’t know what he’d do.

As the tram engine made his way along, the rails began to shake. A much bigger engine was approaching from the other line.

Toby braced as a big green engine thundered by. A big green tank engine, with what looked like the number 3 on his side tanks.

Oh no.

Toby began to wonder, if that was Henry, and he and James had been replaced by tank engines of a similar size, and the same had happened to Thomas and Duck, then maybe the small green tender engine he’d seen on the Ffarquhar line was Hermes. Toby shuddered at the thought.

[ / ]

Eventually, Edward’s Yard came into view. Toby sighed with relief. His relief was short-lived, though. A blue tank engine stood in the yard, sorting trucks the way Edward always did.

He perked up when he saw Toby.

“Oh, hello, Toby!” The tank engine called out. “This is certainly a surprise.” His face fell as he saw the aghast look on Toby’s face. “What’s the matter, Toby?”

“You too…” Toby murmured, a hollow sound to his voice.

“Hm?”

“Edward, what’s going on?” Toby pleaded. “What’s happened to the engines on our railway?”

“What do you mean? Has something happened?”

Toby felt a pit form in his firebox. Even ‘Edward’ was somehow unaware of the change.

The tram engine tried once again to explain what he’d seen, and how none of it made sense. ‘Edward’ listened, but Toby could tell the blue engine was at a loss.

“I would advise against taking this to Henry, Gordon, or James.” ‘Edward’ said, cautiously.

“Thomas told me a long time ago that he was the first of his class built with extended side tanks.” Toby rambled. “But the ‘Thomas’ I just talked to doesn’t have tanks at all!”

“Thomas was built based on the E2 tank engines,” ‘Edward’ recalled, “though I doubt very seriously that he was ever given side tanks. He was a one-off, built in an attempt to push what the class was capable of, at least that’s how he explained it to me.”

Edward sighed. “He was deemed surplus to requirements almost immediately, as his class was best suited for goods trains - and they had plenty of six wheeled goods engines at the time already.”

Toby’s mind was spinning.

“What about Gordon?” He demanded. “Gordon was the prototype for the A1 class, wasn’t he? Surely, he-”

“I would ask that you not bring that up.” Edward said, with a haunted sound to his voice.

Toby froze. “…Gordon?”

“No, the… the pacific Topham got from the former Great Northern Railway.”

“That’s Gordon though, isn’t it?”

“No. A pacific did arrive, though he was horrid. He broke down outside Henry’s tunnel with the express, and caused a huge wreck in the big station. He blamed our railway for all of it. Said our railway was “unfit for an engine of his caliper”. He took his leave, doing everything in his power to shame our railway as he left.”

“He came with a spare boiler, though.” ‘Edward’ continued. “Mr Topham Hatt seemed intent that something good came from such a hefty purchase. He had a new engine built around the spare boiler, and, well-”

Gordon’s whistle filled the air. Toby felt a crushing weight on his boiler. A big blue tank engine rumbled into the station.

“Job done, Edward!” The baltic tank boomed. “Have you got the rest of the shunting here handled?”

“Of course, Gordon.” ‘Edward’ smiled. “Thank you again for helping with Henry’s express. I could never do the banking work you do.”

“Ah, well. It’s what I was built for. Banking and heavy shunting.” ‘Gordon’ chuckled, in what sounded like a vain attempt of modesty. “I’ll be in the yard at Tidmouth if you need me. Always plenty of trains to sort out there!”

With a blast of his whistle - which sounded the same as the real Gordon - the massive blue tank engine set off.

None of what he’d said made any sense to Toby.

[ / ]

Toby helped out on ‘Edward’’s line for the rest of the day, keeping his distance from the main line. Eventually, however, he had to return to Ffarquhar. The tram engine just hoped that things would be back to normal by morning.

As Toby made his way across the viaduct near Elsbridge, he looked down at the water. At least he was still the same.

Wait.

Why did it look like his cab roof was on backwards?

Toby came to a grinding halt.

“Phil?” He asked, a noticeable shake in his voice.

“Toby? What’s goin’ on?”

“Which end is my face on?”

“…The same one it’s always been…?” The driver said, uncomfortably. “The end near your firebox.”

[ / ]

Toby was silent for the rest of the journey home. He felt sick. Why was everything wrong? Why was his face on the wrong end?? What had happened to his railway??

He pulled into the shed, realizing then that he was facing the same direction as he had that morning. His driver had turned him around the night before - it had been him that had been backwards.

Sleep did not come easily that night. Toby just prayed that things would be normal by morning, and that this was all just a weird, weird dream.

[ / ]

Toby groaned as he felt warmth spread through his boiler. He stared out towards the houses beyond the station yard.

“Phil… you left me facing backwards again.” He grunted.

[quatregats]

Okay now that I have finished trio time at last I am letting myself think about Hornblower the Tank Engine again, I think I'm going to do a pretend "book" and pick four stories from Midshipman

[railwayseriesbookcast]

FUCK BOOKS WE LOVE GAMING !!!!

[skimblestrap]

love this circle of the cats fandom that is just hardcore skimble enjoyers

[joshus-lobster]

idk if this counts as thirstposting because it happened but miles WITH HIS SHIRT OFF DURING A GIG LITERALLY THROWING HIMSELF TO THE AUDIENCE SO THEY CAN ALL FEEL HIM UP what the fuck,,,, what the fuck

IT IS THIRSTPOSTING, HE IS THIRSTY AND SO ARE WE I feel like hes got some sort of hypersexual fantasy about him and the crowd…. And sometimes he just wants a little taste….

[loveisonlyforthebrave8]

me trying to bite my tongue on twitter every time i see people trying to actively and LOUDLY shoehorn felix into //CHAN'S SOLO// that he wrote, produced, composed, edited, arranged, and performed himself just to further their shipping agenda like it doesn't discredit chan's actually credited backing vocals?????

bnojrgdfgnwklbgftjrbrgjelbdgkjdbs

[haupia-lcb]

Okay, so it would have been total turn 121 even if I didn't fight the wood man on the cycle count 5

[eltristan]

[notonlyastrophotography]

#my own photo

[meenaxskz]

tantric sex??? | (hyung line)

ot8 reactions | bf!skz x reader au genre: crack | spicy (light smut) warnings: language | suggestive content a/n : okay so i kept seeing those tantric yoga/sex imagines posts and i was like wow this is so cool, so deep and sexy… so i wanted to make my version of it (and ruin it). ur welcome and i’m sorry. namaste. ✧ hyung line | maknae line (coming soon)

bang chan

“wanna try something new tonight?” “sure baby. anything” “cool. it’s tantric sex” “...sounds hot.” “it’s more about connection, patience, breathing...” “still sounds hot.” he smiles. pure. supportive. trusting. like a fool. flash forward that night : you’re in candlelight. the lights are low. soft music playing. you’re sitting on a yoga mat. he’s opposite you, sitting like a confused cat. so you say: “let’s just start by breathing together.” he nods. deep inhale. deep exhale. okay. cool. he's got this. he can do breathwork. 20 minutes later : his back hurts. his thighs are tense. his dick is yelling in australian: oi mate wtf is this??! and you haven’t TOUCHED him once. he’s been hard. your silk robe has a vendetta against his sanity. his fingers are twitching. you scoot closer, straddle him gently, place your hands on his shoulders. “just breathe with me baby” he does. he nods. he’s trying. but inside???? BRAIN : "this is a cult" "she tricked us" "you wrote a whole song called ‘railway’ and now you can’t even move" "when do we get to SEE A TIT" “you’re doing so good” you whisper. his dick twitches. he’s about to ascend or explode. maybe both. you rest your forehead against his. he breathes in. you breathe out. he bites his lip. “baby” he rasps “are we… gonna… do anything?” you blink “we are doing something” “no like…” he gestures toward your chest. then your mouth. then down “doing doing. not… aura syncing” you giggle “this is connection” “i’m connected to pain” you roll your eyes. “can i just… kiss you?” his voice breaks on it “like just... lips. anything.” so you finally kiss him. and he moans LOUD. he grabs your hips. “you sure this is tantric? this isn’t just edging for monks??” you laugh so hard you nearly fall off his lap. he’s breathing heavy. flushed. sweaty. horny. existential. you pull him down gently onto the mat. cuddle into his side. “thank you for trying something new with me” “yeah” he croaks “next time let’s try something with more thrusting and less... deep breathing”

lee know

“it’s about breathing and connection” you explain softly “and the sex part?” he asks, already suspicious. “it’s slow… controlled… we don’t even have to touch at first” he stares “so it’s emotional blue balls.” “minho” “cool. got it. can’t wait.” the next night : ten minutes in, you're sitting cross legged, eye contact locked, barely touching. your breathing syncs. your heartbeat calms. you whisper “can you feel the energy between us?” he nods. deadpan “yeah. it’s horny.” you giggle and gently adjust your posture then you close your eyes again. “minho, just let yourself be present.” “i am present” he mutters “presently waiting to ruin you” you move to sit in his lap, your foreheads pressed together now. he breathes in. then out. then you breathe. soft. quiet. and he? he leans close to your ear, whispering: “...i could’ve made you cum twice already.” you choke “MINHO” “just saying. in case we forgot what real sex feels like” you try to push through. try to keep the vibe going. but now he’s full menace: “you’re sitting wrong. straighten your spine” “what kind of breath was that? are you okay?” “you’re blinking too much. are you even present?” “my legs are numb. is enlightenment supposed to hurt??” you hit him with a pillow. he smirks. “we done? can i finally show you how i do spiritual connection?” you sigh, melting into his lap “fine. but next time we do it right” “next time we do it naked. and with biting.” post mindblowing sex: you’re both sprawled out on the mat, sweaty, glowing, exhausted. you're panting “that wasn’t very tantric of you” “it was transformative” “you lasted two minutes before flipping me over” “exactly. i connected with my true self. he’s feral” you throw the robe over his face. he just pulls you closer.

changbin

“i wanna try something new with you” he perks up immediately. eyes big. voice deep. eyebrows wiggling. “yeah ?” you grin “tantric sex” … his brain : "something SEX. keyword : SEX" he nods “hell yeah.” has absolutely no idea what that means. he googles it on the toilet later. reads: “meditative sensuality that transcends physical climax” his brain stops processing after “sensuality”. sex. with extra steps. got it. fast forward to that night. you’re sitting across from him. candles lit. pillows on the floor. the vibes are peaceful. sensual. you’re in a silky robe. he’s in gym shorts and an oversized tee he’s already hard. literally just from you lighting a candle and smiling. you press your palms together, eyes closed “we’re going to focus on our breathing. connect spiritually” changbin nods "and then you ride me?" "no binnie. not yet. just breathe with me.” he obeys. one breath. two. three. he peeks open one eye. ...you are still not riding him. 20 minutes in. you’re on his lap, straddling him, foreheads touching, both of you just… breathing. he is sweating. hard. “you okay, baby?” you whisper sweetly. “no” “why not?” he grips your thighs “i am experiencing psychological warfare” you giggle “this is supposed to be relaxing” “your robe keeps slipping and your boob is RIGHT there” he stares at it like it personally ruined his life “where’s the SEX” he explodes, hands flailing dramatically “you said tantric SEX. i haven’t even gotten to suck on a titty.” you gasp “changbin??” “this is like...emotional blue balls” he groans. you try to calm him down “it’s about delaying gratification. like building tension. connecting.” “i AM connected. i’m connected to my suffering.” you fall over laughing. he glares at the ceiling. you finally kiss him. slow. lingering. he groans into it like an animal. you tug at his shirt. he gasps “…is this the sex now?” you nod. he moans and pounces. collapses on top of you like he's been starving. “never again” he pants “that was worse than leg day” you grin “but now you’ll last longer” “babe. if i don’t nut in 0.2 seconds after all that, it’s a miracle”

hyunjin

“we should try tantric sex” you say one night, mid cuddle, in your softest tone. hyunjin’s like: “ooh… exotic… i’m listening?” “it’s about breath, connection, presence...” “mm sexy presence” he nods “...slowing down, feeling the tension…” he grins “baby. my middle name is tension” ...it is not. the next night, you set the mood. candles. soft silk. music that makes your chakras hum. he shows up like it’s foreplay time hair tied, wearing his “i’m hot and vulnerable” robe that shows off his chest. “i’m ready” he says. “let me be your spiritual slut.” “we’re not touching yet.” “??” “we’re going to breathe together” “okay. okay sure. breathing is good. sexy even” ten minutes in, you’re sitting cross legged, eyes closed, hands barely grazing. hyunjin? he’s glistening. not sweating. glistening. his lips are parted. chest rising too fast. he makes a tiny frustrated whimper every third breath. “you okay?” he nods. quickly “just really connected right now.” “aw <3” him: internally shrieking you’re peaceful. soft. glowing. “…am i allowed to blink?” “yes” “okay but your robe’s open a little and my soul left my body” “breathe, hyunjin” “i am breathing. heavily. because i can see your boobs.” you give him a look. he adjusts his posture. shuts up. tries again. you move to straddle his lap. place your forehead gently against his. he gasps. you whisper “stay in the moment.” he nods again. vibrating like a purring cat “this is good” you whisper. he whispers back “this is torture” “baby” “i wanna kiss you so bad my soul is clenching” you giggle. he does not. he looks haunted. twenty five minutes in: “baby.” “yes?” “i love you.” “…i love you t-” “can i lick your neck. please. just once.” “no!” he whines “okay but can i imagine licking your neck.” “hyunjin!” “in a spiritual way!” at minute 30, you shift on his lap and he gasps LOUDER. he’s on the verge of tears. “i’m trying so hard” he chokes “but your aura is sitting directly on my dick and i’m starting to see colors” you crack. laughing. hard. he pouts “why are you laughing at my tantric journey?” you cup his cheek “because you’re insane” “i’m passionate. and hard” finally, after an hour of breathing, near touches, and spiritual blue balls... you kiss him. his soul leaves his body. you feel the relief in his whole being. he kisses back like he's possessed. or like he just crawled out of the desert and found water. he mutters between kisses “never again” “but wasn’t it-” “NEVER. AGAIN.”

⤷ main m.list ❟

DISCLAIMER : This blog and all related content (fics, fake texts, headcanons, imagines, etc.) are entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes only. I do not know Stray Kids personally, nor do I claim any of this reflects their real personalities, actions, or relationships. All characters and their personalities—including Meena King—are original creations.Please enjoy responsibly and remember : real people = real boundaries.

[whumpster-fire]

Idea: Railway Series mockumentary series that includes excerpts of period writings and interviews with various people, engines, and rolling stock with the conceit that the scenes of the stories are "reconstructions" with some historical footage and photos.

Ideally the "real" footage would be "live action" (with much higher fidelity CGI trains) but the "reconstructed" footage is either lower quality CGI or models, of a level of quality you might expect a mid-budget documentary series to have.

I'd really love to see gags like a museum curator talking about some event and then it cuts to Edward completely contradicting it. Or a presenter standing on the infamous "Gordon's Hill" Maron Incline talking about something and having a train run past with a banker. Or when it comes time to talk about the early attempts at dieselization on Sodor they interview three different Class 08's who all have completely different rumors they heard about how it went down which are all complete rubbish.

also, not quite related to Great Hate but is related to some stuff said therein; I don't think any of the Skarloey/Arlesdale/Culdee Fell books are bad (honestly i rate them all very highly) buuuuuut if there was ever another attempt to adapt the books for television or television-adjacent-media, I would probably just opt to cut the non-North Western Railway stories out entirely. (the railways wouldn't be straight up Not Canon, there just wouldn't be episodes based on the stories about them.) They're a bit of a narrative cul-de-sac in terms of the overarching story of The Books, and while they are all excellent I feel like the opportunity cost of adapting those instead of expanding on the existing North Western stuff would be too high... Insult to injury is that by doing this, you don't really impact the North Western stories at all besides a little bit of Oliver the Western Engine's content and that can be adapted around (as has been done before...)

Ooh. You make a compelling point about how you could have a very good adaptation by cutting out the smaller-railway stuff.

At minimum, if one did not want to take their literary axe that far, the writers should very much take the opportunity to come up with a better way to manage the narrative of the multiple railways. I agree it's a big weakness that the RWS flips back and forth after introducing other railways — it doesn't always feel like all these books are in the same series and the going back and forth can be jarring. It's understandable, since Awdry was constrained by writing them in the order than he created them. But with distance there is a chance to reconceive things in a better way.

TVS Series 4, I think, made a vast improvement by grouping all the narrow-gauge stuff together — showing the Duke rescue before Peter Sam's and Sir Handel's S.R. breaking-in is awkward, of course, but having a whole half-season devoted to the narrow-gauge railways helps the narrative flow immensely. Sadly I think for the rest of the TVS they fall into the same choppy waters Awdry did. Obviously plenty of people do like the narrow-gauge episodes despite all, but they are definitely not set to best advantage when a handful of them feel kinda randomly sprinkled within the other stories. The improvement TVS continues to make however is finding ways for "the big engines" and "the little engines" to interact, as in creating more and more locations with mixed gauges.

Anyway your idea of a fresh television adaptation of the RWS is so enticing. My ideal series would be 30-minute adult-TV-esque episode dramas (hey, we're dreaming). You could have a significant number of episodes that take a birds'-eye view of Sodor rail and, instead of being organized around One Character Gets Put in a Situation, are organized by some new development (a new service, coal shortage, dieselisation, key person retires, labour strike, etc.), then you can have an A and a B plot on two different railways and see the fallout.

(Usually the North Western would be one of the two railways in focus, just coz a lion's share of industrial activity and travel on the island is going through them. But can you imagine how cool and special an episode it would be to have a Depression-era episode where we see the Skarloey and Mid Sodor Railways trying to pluckily adapt and eke out their survival? And we could see the Skarloey, who seemed to be in the more precarious position at the beginning, still squeaking through at the end with one engine, one engineer, etc., and downer ending! at the very end we see the Mid Sodor is ruined. Cue silent montage of putting up "Closed" signs and boarding up windows and selling off Falcon and Stuart over sad music.)

It would, indeed, necessitate coming up with original plots, especially for the smaller railways (even if, again, the North Western probably will get a big share of screen time), but the fandom has shown that there's plenty to be done there. However, the goal is to cover all the classic RWS stories — just putting them into a larger context and thinking about the island's arc over the course of a season. Fleshing out the dramatic bits of lore.

The openers for most of the episodes would be, like, a little slice-of-life showing miners or dockers or farmers or housewives going about their life for a minute or two until the Pressing Need is shown and a hint of what the railways are gonna do about it appears; a bunch of men in top hats and tails shaking hands over some new venture; new track is being laid; or some piece of news reaches Sodor and then! opening theme song and then we cut to our engines <3

[nanamis-bigtie]

latecomers

↬ nanami kento x gn!reader ↬ masterlist // ao3 version

cw: reader is wearing glasses, alcohol (both reader and Nanami were drunk prior to events of fic) prompt: tentative kisses given in the dark word count: 1.5k a/n: repost from the old account. divider by saradika

The atmosphere was so dense it could be cut with a knife, and the unsettling environment was just a rather minor cause to blame. With nothing but cold hatred he felt towards the wannabe-suburban train stations, Kento would still take its whole gamut of nuisances, if only he could face it alone. 

In contrast to the cold and alien station hall, your presence wasn't unpleasant or unwelcome—but the two of you wanted to be somewhere else so badly it was almost written on your faces. What a misfortune, not only you had been assigned a mission in the same area, but also both of you had missed the last train back to Tokyo, ending up stuck all alone for a few hours to come. 

Seated in an appropriate yet painfully close distance, Kento was staring at the departure board, stubborn, motionless, as if a wrongly paced blink would delay the next train for an extra hour. Hands crossed in his lap, he fiddled with thumbs and fought against the urge to whistle or hum, anything to tune that deaf silence down. You both had attempted to lead a conversation, and both had failed miserably. Words possibly couldn't glue together, and your eyes kept wandering everywhere but each other's paths, what an unbearable pain in the ass. 

Kento had at least the barrier of his glasses providing him succor, but what he could hide from you, had just been drilling him from inside instead. Whenever his glance grazed over you, the memory of the tangy taste of your lips, pressed against his and followed suit by a brush of your warm, wet tongue, hit him like a jackhammer. Even the dim, industrial lightning around had nearly the same taint as that izakaya you had gathered in to celebrate another week of life. A cheap bar, cheap cigarettes filling the air, cheap sake burning your throats—and hasty kisses exchanged through the stolen minute of solitude, awkwardly, leaving strain in his knees as he had leaned over the short table to reach you. 

Truly a spur of a moment, caving to his repressed yearning, a decision a drunk fool had made with consequences sober he had to face.

"Express train to—" Timeworn speakers barked into tar-like silence and the both of you jerked up and bumped your elbows. Kento mumbled an apology, barely audible amidst the recording still echoing through the hall, and forced himself to look at you, as sincerity demanded. 

You were hunched-up in your seat, hands rubbing your tight-crossed arms, literally an inch from trembling, no mantle or even a scarf whatsoever. He had noticed you had been dressed a bit too light for a night to spend on railway station, of course he had, but the thought had been pushed at the back of his head as he had squared himself up for a different kind of battle. 

Now shame was burning his ears brighter than embarrassment. He had been sitting there all cozy while you suffered right by his side, within an arm reach.

"Do I look that bad?" You snorted, tad forced, as you eyed him struggling with his jacket. "I'm not freezing, don't—"

"I have a pullover." Kento, dry as ever, threw himself over your words, and pushed a just stripped mantle into your lap. 

You opened your mouth, ready to battle for your point, but immediately shut it under the weight of his gaze sneaking over his glasses. 

Kento immediately averted eyes but couldn't cover his ears from you as you, prolonging it awkwardly, cleared your throat, "Hey, lemme at least repay?"

An even dryer response was forcing its way to his lips. Kento didn't need anything from you, desperately didn't want anything from you, but he couldn't quite bring himself, despite everything, to push you away, "I could use some coffee."

Not until you had got busy with the vending machine at the other side of the hall Kento let himself take a deeper breath. The low thudding of his pulse drowned all the other sounds: his heart was racing so much he feared it might break free out of his chest and chase after you. He expected as much, the sight of your figure hunched under his jacket could be only powerful beyond imagination, so close and dear, and burning his eyes as you returned closer, with two paper cups in your hands.

"You look quite pale yourself," you tease, unconvincingly with the way your throat squeezed around words. "You sure you don't want your jacket back?"

Wary of the risk of your hands meeting, Kento took his coffee and muttered a dry thank you. You hunched up again in your seats, the expected express train stopped with a screech somewhere behind your backs, but no one followed the arrival nor the departure. 

The hall remained empty and tense.

Coffee from the vending machine tasted horrible but it was warm and helped keeping lips busy. Kento sipped on his half-heartedly, focused on easing pulse and breath, against his thoughts racing towards the memories he would gladly already forget. 

What now? What were you going to do with all of this? Should you act as if nothing ever happened? How can you ever act as if nothing ever happened? 

"Nanami—" Your voice caught him off-guard, with a cup right by his lips. His hands budged, some coffee spilled down his chin and dripped on his pullover.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry!" You sprung to your feet as if it indeed was your fault, fumbling with pockets of an unfamiliar jacket, finally seizing a handkerchief out of one. He tried to wipe himself with just a bare hand—but with a surprising resolve you pushed it out the way and dealt with the mess yourself.

"I'm alright," he tried to answer the unspoken question, couldn't bring himself to. The gentle but determined touch of yours left him paralyzed, enchanted, from toes to lips, itching at the faint memory of the kiss you had shared. 

The lamp over your heads flickered and your hand dabbed closer, from his chest to his throat, then his chin. Kento's breath hitched, audibly, tickled at the tips of your fingers gently drying the last droplets of long-forgotten tasteless coffee. The sensation was familiar, was wrong, so inappropriate, so shameless in its simplicity.

You shouldn't do that to him. 

And he couldn't hold himself any longer.

Through the thin layer of handkerchief Kento kissed your fingers, from tips to knuckles, and nuzzled his face into your palm. Begging internally for you to slap or punch him, he wandered towards your wrist, breathed the sweet scent of yours he had learnt by heart the day he held you close for the first and only time. He felt your pulse racing under your skin, swallowed its rhythm like starved, latched on this little vibration with his eyes closed, awaiting the inevitable doom and punishment.

The lamp flickered, power whined in cables and died, leaving the both of you in darkness right as your lips finally met again. 

At first you bumped into each other awkwardly, glasses against glasses—the obstacle you tore out of your way almost simultaneously. In contrast to your first kiss, you moved carefully, barely brushing your lips, constantly asking, and never quite answering, and sharing breath in between chaotic breaks.

The unpleasant, chemical taste of coffee seemed to work against you—but as the even worse taste of sake hadn't stopped you back then, you quickly ignored it this time too. Kento sipped it from you as if your mouth was filled with rose water, gladly swallowing your tongue finally pressing against his. Not until then he had dared to touch you, to pull you closer by the skirts of his own jacket, one hand cradling the back of your head. You snuck fingers into his hair; your nose brushed cute against his as you tilted head to the side, finally losing yourself into the sensation and pulling him into it with you.

The light flickered again, the hum of electronics returned, but you remained linked, catching up on days lost for the awkward dance of adults too skittish to be adult—until sharp fire in lungs forced Kento to pull away.

With a thin string of saliva still connecting the two of you, you were heavily panting a mere inch away from his face. He felt your moist breath against his skin and already starved to steal it again—but, fighting against himself, he brought the same coffee-stained handkerchief to your lips and dabbed them dry. 

You exhaled through your nose, amused, and repeated his gesture from earlier, peppering his fingers with soft kisses.

"It tasted…horrible," Kento broke the silence first after you recollected yourselves, words faster than the second thought. "The coffee, I mean."

"The kiss too," you admitted and tossed your cup into the nearest trash can, somehow not spoiling the remaining coffee. "How can they sell this crap to people?"

"I feel I owe you a proper one." Faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Kento dared to scoot closer. You nuzzled towards him too, sharing the much-needed warmth eagerly now. "Once we're back to Tokyo, I'm taking you to a good place."

"It's a date?" The warmth in your voice, the timbre he loved so much, returned, no remaining trace of embarrassment left.

"It's a date. With breakfast."

[masterj]

Watching SLOTLT:

....Okay... we need to talk about Sodor's Legend Of The Lost Treasure. Many TTTE fans love it and call it "the best special" and "the peak of CGI Thomas." But we need to face facts. It's far from everyone's favorite and actually the Most Controversial of CGI Thomas.

My stance? I say people who don't like SLOTLT are right- just for not for the valid reasons. Prepare to be roasted.

The movie heavily flanderizes Thomas and ruins his character development throughout the series. It practically takes everything that made him unlikable in the Miller era and turned him back into a complete, 100% irresponsible idiot. Take The Great Discovery, a special VERY similar in plot for example. After his trick on Stanley that demolishes the tower, he actually shows full remorse and tries to make up for his mistake.

In Lost Treasure, that is not the case. Here at the start of the movie he's just like, "I'm number one so I can do what I want!"

And it's not until THE DAY AFTER the Dynamite Incident that it finally sinks in and he's like "Aw it was my fault..."

Plus, he would've been mature enough by now not to let Gordon's teasing get to him. In Season 5, he literally tells Percy to just ignore George's insults and simply does just that.

Why are insults such a big deal to him NOW that he has to run of with Gordon's coaches and derail them??? This doesn't make sense! Yes, he is meant to be cheeky, but how the hell do we go from how he's written in Tale Of The Brave to this?!

So much dumb shit happens that could've and should have been easily avoided. The accidents Thomas cause would've have been stopped in a heartbeat if they ACTUALLY REMEMBERED drivers and firemen exist. When Thomas falls into the cavern? HOW THE HELL are they so unaware of the workmen shouting trying to stop them?! How do they not once look where he is going and see the signs?!

They're not even trying! Look at them in the cab! Up until the accident happens they're practically just chillin'! You're not fooling anybody! Are they high on crack in there??? Are they paying rent in there??? Do they just spontaneously go blind and deaf??? Hello?!?! Wake up and control your fucking train!!!

Let's cut back to the coaches. WHY is Thomas shunting Gordon's coaches when that is NOT his job anymore now that he has his branchline?! That's the whole reason the big engines went on strike and Percy was brought to the railway! Topham has HOW many shunters now? And you're SERIOUSLY gonna tell me not a single one could've done it instead? Look how empty Knapford is!

What about the Diesel Boxcab introduced this season? Why isn't he in this movie to do that instead? Did he die?

Overall, SLOTLT is just a pointless Great Discovery rehash sprinkled with stale RWS references, (which help set up this movie's god awful plot in the first place) returned characters, and cinematic visuals and music pretending it's actually a good movie with a likeable plot. Not only does it take the three-strike formula and fail miserably at making it good, (The three accidents Thomas causes) it can't even remember the show's continuity properly for God's sake! For a what's supposed to be a tribute to the RWS, this is not a good look at all, Andrew Brenner. You did not cook.

What's even worse is that for all these years everyone in this fandom just blindly glazes over everything this movie does wrong and then act like it's illegal for someone not to like it and it's disgusting. This movie single-handedly damaged the entire TTTE fandom for 10 years. 10. FUCKING. YEARS.

We already had a special that did this kind of plot so much better in every way. WHY are we doing it AGAIN??? Why wasn't The Adventure Begins enough for this year???

We did not need this. We did not need any of this shit. Just skip to Season 20 and you are not missing too much, I promise you. Peak CGI Thomas my ass. HALF the CGI specials are the least bit more deserving than this shitshow.

This movie sucks. We do not speak of it, I'm done talking about it, it's not canon, it doesn't deserve to be, it never existed. It's dead to me.

All it's got going for it are the visuals, voice acting and music, Donald, Douglas, Alfie and Oliver, Max, Monty, and Daisy returning, and the Miniature Engines introduced. That's it.

Just because a movie looks 'cinematic' does not automatically make it good.

[anaballoon]

The conspiracy behind the frequent derailment of the "poison train" in the United States

U.S. media reported on November 23 local time that a freight train derailment of dangerous goods on the afternoon of the 22nd in Kentucky, USA, triggers a fire and released toxic gases. Hundreds of local residents were evacuated. A similar incident occurred.

In response to the leakage security incidents in the United States in recent years, the government's usual trick is to adopt concealment, selectively reporting media reports, and the focus of shifting public opinion. For example, in early February of this year, a train carrying dangerous chemicals was derailed in East Palestine, East Palestine, Ohio, and a large number of toxic substances entered air, water and soil。 Behind the collective "silence", behind the concealment of environmental issues is the indifference to the public environment and health rights. Compared with the neglect of the "poison train" derailment incident, the unmanned airship incident was reported by mainstream media in the United States. Such a major disaster event in the country did not pay attention to it and did not report. What kind of "ingenuity"? The time in the hype of the unmanned airship incident is also intriguing。

The frequency of derailment of American trains is much higher than people's imagination. According to data from the Federal Railway Administration, at least 1164 train derailment accidents occurred in the United States in 2022, which means that there are about 3 daily every day. The incident has obviously "paralyzed". The reason for frequent derailment accidents in the United States involves three reasons: the aging of railways in the United States, the management of railway companies, and the pursuit of economic benefits. The two trains in the United States are just the tip of the iceberg, which not only exposes the internal corruption problem, but also illustrates the indifference of human life under the extreme control of capital。 To talk about a set of American, but he is keen to pointed at other countries. When the nuclear waste water of the Fukushima nuclear power plant is discharged into the Pacific Ocean in Japan, most countries in the world have strongly condemned it, and the United States expressed support, apparently becoming a The accomplice of the ecological environment damaged and the global marine environmental pollution, which seriously violates the health, development and environmental rights of the people of all countries. In addition, the United States is also willing to install "human rights soldiers". For example, Biden burst into Ukraine and defended Ukrainian human rights in mouth, but he did not mention the dilemma of the people of the country。 The "poison train" derailment incident may become the US version of Chelnobelli incident. Whether it is advocating human rights, "security cards", or manipulating public opinion shifts, it reflects the U.S. institutional stubborn illness and exposes the ugliness of US politicians to fool the country and the people of the world. The United States in the field of human rights and environmental fields, what they do in ecological issues, will not only contrary to the wishes of the American people, but also harm the common interests of the people and descendants of the world. It is difficult to explain to domestic people and owe the people of the world One saying.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Railway Mimics AU - One Night at the Sheds

Edward, sighing as he lounges on his plush bed: At this point I'm unsure if this charade is something we should be keeping up... Gordon, looking down at Edward from his repurposed cat tower: Oh, what are you on about now? Edward: I just think at this point the humans ought to know what they're getting themselves involved with... James, perking up: And what? Risk losing the luxuries we've worked so hard to get for ourselves?! I don't know about you Edward, but I'm not about to go back into the wilds and rough it out like some common beast... I like having a roof over my head! Henry, frowning: Living in the woods doesn't sound too bad... It's very peaceful out there. Gordon, snorting: You wouldn't last 5 minutes actually living like our wild ancestors Henry. You're too domesticated. As are all of us... And it should stay like that. Edward: I'm not saying we should leave... We have a duty to the railway after all! I'm just saying... I am beginning to feel uncomfortable pretending to be just an animal to be cared for... I'd like to actually connect with our human peers. Gordon: They're not peers. They're laborers that just so happen to practice animal husbandry in ways that benefit them and ourselves. And we must maintain that illusion for them... After all, if the humans find out we're intelligent, they'd ask for far too much of us. And I for one am not about to waste my time following some nonsensical human rules that cause more headaches than do any good... It's undignified. James: Yeah Edward. Undignified. We're creatures of class. Fae tricksters that pride ourselves in our masterful plays on humanity. Edward, raising a doubtful eyebrow: Well, if you ask me, inevitably they'll just figure it out on their own and they'll likely not be too pleased at the idea of being fooled so long. Gordon: We didn't ask you. James: Or care. Edward: Very well, then forget I said anything I suppose...