speeding-engines

[speeding-engines]

My commisions are open! I'm trying to help save up and get money for my own apartment for college and anything would really help! Here's a few recent drawings I've done!

[speeding-engines]

🌺I promise I'm not dead, just it's really hard for me to keep up a blog sometimes,,

🌺 might make another stex blog for a couple ocs but dunno

[speeding-engines]

[Somehow he managed to separate them but Electra has yoinked him. He has been given a smooch] [oh no Greaseball is trying to get to Electra again-]

[speeding-engines]

[Wuh-oh they are wrestling now] IM GONNA DO IT FIRST GREASEBALL- NO-!

[speeding-engines]

[Woah!! Electra and Greaseball speeding over, but end up colliding with eachother as they attempted to get to Rusty first] oWCH-

[speeding-engines]

"Do you remember who, or what hit you?" Electra rolled along, carefully holding the other in his arms, his tired squealing slightly as he braked in a a rea of the trainyard where he could properly assess Wrench.

"And don't you dare apologize, this isn't your fault. I'm not mad at you for being injured, I'm just worried." Their voice softened as they spoke, while Electra quite frankly didn't care about a lot of things, something they always worried about was their components.

It was clear that the futuristic train was slightly panicking, but mostly was trying to figure out what they could do to help. They were also just trying to figure out what exactly happened.

(From Hurt/Comfort starters: “Nah it’s not that bad. I’ve had worse”)

“Electra, truly, it’s not that bad,” Wrench grumbled, looking away from his severely injured legs and back up at his boss. “I’ve had worse by a mile, plus I’m a repair truck, I can fix myself, can’t I?”

(Offer from @residentrepairtruck )

"Not that bad? Not that bad?! Look at your legs!" Electra ran their hands through their hair, looking rather concerned for Wrench. He nervously kneels down, the heart monitor on his chest spiking up as anxiety bubbled within him. Taking a deep breath before reaching put in an attempt to lift the repair truck.

"Alright. I'm gonna help you out, and you cannot tell me that I can't." The electric trains engine whirled as they carefully picked the other up, quick to start rolling off to a less populated area.

"I look away for five seconds- how did you even get hurt this bad?"

@residentrepairtruck

[speeding-engines]

(From Hurt/Comfort starters: “Nah it’s not that bad. I’ve had worse”)

“Electra, truly, it’s not that bad,” Wrench grumbled, looking away from his severely injured legs and back up at his boss. “I’ve had worse by a mile, plus I’m a repair truck, I can fix myself, can’t I?”

(Offer from @residentrepairtruck )

"Not that bad? Not that bad?! Look at your legs!" Electra ran their hands through their hair, looking rather concerned for Wrench. He nervously kneels down, the heart monitor on his chest spiking up as anxiety bubbled within him. Taking a deep breath before reaching put in an attempt to lift the repair truck.

"Alright. I'm gonna help you out, and you cannot tell me that I can't." The electric trains engine whirled as they carefully picked the other up, quick to start rolling off to a less populated area.

"I look away for five seconds- how did you even get hurt this bad?"

@residentrepairtruck

[speeding-engines]

"I can't take a day off! It's race night, Dinah!" Grease has been quick to complain, though appreciatively took the glass and sipped it, silently thankful for the liquid that calmed the soreness in his throat. Of course he was going to be stubborn, not wishing to compromise his title of champion.

He finished off the glass, murmuring a thank you to her. He reached up and slicked back his hair, fixing it a small bit. His eyes glancing around the small business before returning to her.

"I'll be fine, I don't need to take it easy-" The diesel engine said, trying his best to convince her- despite looking miserable.

(from Hurt/Comfort starters, “If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me do it for you!”)

“Hey Greaseball…you don’t look to good~” Dinah commented to the diesel who did look pretty sick. “Are you sure you don’t need to take a break or something? You know you can take a sick day~” Dinah knew that the diesel often played tough guy and didn’t take care of himself sometimes just to seem strong. She sometimes wondered if he even knew how. He was very popular after all, anyone would be happy to take care of him. All the girls wanted him, including herself but she wouldn’t admit that to him.

(Offer from @sweet-dining-carriage??)

The diesel engine did indeed look quite rough, despite his attempts to maintain his prestine look. He looked somewhat disheveled, with strands of hair messily sticking out from his typically slicked back hairstyle. On top of that, he looked pale- yet red in the face, as well as concerningly warm to the touch.

"I'm fine-! I don't need a sick day, I'm-" The engines sentence was quickly cut off by a string of coughs- rolling to the side a little bit as he covered his mouth, in a futile attempt to hide the puffs of dark grey smoke that came with every cough.

His engine sputtered, making Greaseball groan a bit in defeat. He leaned against a nearby wall before murmuring out. "Okay- maybe I'm a little sick.." It was clear that he did not like the idea of taking a break.

@sweet-dining-carriage

[speeding-engines]

(from Hurt/Comfort starters, “If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me do it for you!”)

“Hey Greaseball…you don’t look to good~” Dinah commented to the diesel who did look pretty sick. “Are you sure you don’t need to take a break or something? You know you can take a sick day~” Dinah knew that the diesel often played tough guy and didn’t take care of himself sometimes just to seem strong. She sometimes wondered if he even knew how. He was very popular after all, anyone would be happy to take care of him. All the girls wanted him, including herself but she wouldn’t admit that to him.

(Offer from @sweet-dining-carriage??)

The diesel engine did indeed look quite rough, despite his attempts to maintain his prestine look. He looked somewhat disheveled, with strands of hair messily sticking out from his typically slicked back hairstyle. On top of that, he looked pale- yet red in the face, as well as concerningly warm to the touch.

"I'm fine-! I don't need a sick day, I'm-" The engines sentence was quickly cut off by a string of coughs- rolling to the side a little bit as he covered his mouth, in a futile attempt to hide the puffs of dark grey smoke that came with every cough.

His engine sputtered, making Greaseball groan a bit in defeat. He leaned against a nearby wall before murmuring out. "Okay- maybe I'm a little sick.." It was clear that he did not like the idea of taking a break.

@sweet-dining-carriage

[speeding-engines]

I am   MORE  than these bruises 

                                     these screams

                                            these tears

                                      I am.   I am.   I am… 

                                            a r e n ’ t    i ? 

[speeding-engines]

       spit out the BLOOD 

             &&  keep going

                      be strong

                                     (  THEY  STILL  NEED  YOU  )

[speeding-engines]

            some days 

                                                i don’t even feel human 

[speeding-engines]

                                          loving you was  s u n s h i n e ,

                                                    [ safe and sound ]

                                               a steady place to let down

                                                       [ my defenses ]  

[speeding-engines]

            my mind is a home,  h a u n t e d 

&&  the spirits in the walls  whisper  each night

  there, they  ( cower )  behind boards, half rotted 

     from a past too cruel, too wretched to face

[speeding-engines]

                   strike me, again… 

                                   ( my wounds heal over with STEEL )

                                        ( my bones mend into STONE )

                             strike me, again, and your hand will  b r e a k

                             ( my body is no longer only flesh and blood ) 

                                   strike me, a g a i n, and you will learn…

[speeding-engines]

                                    i’ll feast on my fear and swallow it down, deep

                                                 i’ll rip the sorrow from my eyes 

                                                          if that’s what it takes…                                                       i’ll let the beast inside WIN 

                                                  and claw my way through this

[speeding-engines]

tell me… 

                                    are you  r e a l l y  ready for love? 

                                or is it just the  LONELY  talking, again?