#greendon2022

[greendreamer]

I find it so annoying that in mere days after #Greendon2022 ended I found out about another blue ttte character that was green and wore the number 4 in their early days.

Well, at least it's his 70th anniversary next year, giving me a reason spam talk about him

[theflyingkipper]

happy green gord month, have a young green lad and some sketches I did of some fanfic where gordon is a newbie :D

Edward, Gordon, and Victor by @houseboatisland

Saving The Railway by @mean-scarlet-deceiver

I opted to leave Gordon’s livery free of numbers/lettering , in my headcanon he wasn’t given any until he was sold to Hatt.

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

~ Five minutes later~

... Gordon sees Henry for the first time

[joezworld]

Green Gordon vs. The Cackling Masses

Hey it's Green Gordon time

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

"- well, it isn't like we've anything else to paint you with!"

"Then I will go out in bare metal and rust!"

It was the present day on the Island of Sodor, and as usual, someone was incredibly annoyed. Can you guess who?

"Now be reasonable! It's just an undercoat!"

"I know exactly what happens when someone is painted in an embarrassing undercoat! I will be seen!"

"So what? Henry was fine about it."

"Hen- Henr- Are we talking about the same Henry? The engine who alternately complained and boasted about that incident for weeks? Before that dratted book about the incident came about, and he was able to puff himself up even further?"

Gordon stared down at the works manager, who looked just as annoyed as he did.

"Well," The man said, putting his hands on his hips. "Maybe, you can be more mature than Henry is. Maybe you'll be a good influence on him! Weren't you painted green back in the old days?"

The big engine's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I was painted green, many, many, many, years ago. Things were different then; green was a noble colour - one of crack express trains pulled by the most elegant of engines. Even the Westerners were able to get that part right, for a time. I wore those colours proudly, and with honor, and if it were needed for me to do so again with pride."

"So what's all the commotion then? Just wear the damn paint for the weekend and we'll have you back to normal by Monday evening."

"You misunderstand me." Gordon looked positively peeved now. "First of all, that is not Apple Green. Second, we are not on the Great Northern. Third, we are not in 1922. And fourth..." He paused for a long, dramatic moment. "On this island, green is not the colour of nobility and poise."

"Oh? What is it then? Mixed traffic too good for you?"

Gordon ignored him. "Green is the colour of cackling, conniving, scheming, conspiring, infighting, and rumour-mongering imps who take no greater pleasure than waiting for a weakness to be revealed, so that they may exploit it for their own petty amusement! If I make anything more than a momentary appearance outside, they will find out. If, heaven forbid, I am forced to appear in public in that paint, they will see, and I will be finished on this island."

The manager suddenly had a great deal of interest in the ground below him. "Oh really? Finished?"

"Yes!" Gordon exclaimed loudly. "Almost a hundred years' worth of poise and restraint, Decades of maturity and reputation, GONE in the first instant they see me. After all I have done to promote the colour blue on this island, after how much it has become associated with me, they will never let me hear the end of it!" He looked down at the man with what he hoped was steely determination, and not the very real panic he was starting to feel. "Mark. My. Words. If you paint me in that, I will not turn a wheel until you cover it with something more appropriate. Do you understand me?"

"I will kill someone today..." Gordon seethed as he pulled into Knapford station with an empty stock working. "Someone important, whose absence will take the attention away from my-"

"Oh, good god above." Daisy was already repressing laughter when she pulled into the station. "What on earth did they paint you with? Pea soup?"

"Shut up and go away."

"Oh ho ho! Testy, are we! Well, I suppose not everyone takes to being green the same way I do! Ta Ta!" She motored away as quickly as she'd come, and was barely out of sight before raucous laughter could be heard.

A sudden and irrepressible sense of doom welled up inside of Gordon.

She was headed to the big station.

Gordon's driver finally took pity on him and moved him into the sheds. The attention he was getting from the passengers was unwelcome at best, and he couldn't yell at them to go away like he could his ostensible friends, many of whom had burst out laughing the moment they laid eyes on him.

Henry was waiting inside the shed already, as were Bear, Duck, Oliver, and BoCo. James and Douglas were there as well, but the probability of either of them being remotely helpful was so small as to be incalculable.

"What's this? A new engine?" Henry said as Gordon backed into the shed. "Did anyone else know that we were getting a new engine? It does look an awful lot like Gordon."

"Henry, if you continue speaking, I will make it my personal mission in life to make sure that you wake up each morning and regret being built."

"Oh come now, Gordon-" Duck tried to interject.

"Reconsider speaking, Montague."

"Gordon-" This time it was BoCo.

"BoCo, we have been friends for many years, but do not think for even a second that this offer is exclusive to steam engines."

The shed fell into a deeply intimidated silence, for about thirty seconds.

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" James asked. "It's only jokes, it's not like you're some green new engine who's never... oh wait..."

"James, the sheer number of times I have lied on your behalf should be enough of a reason to still your tongue."

James' jaw snapped shut, and the shed fell into an uneasy silence. Gordon, pleased that he had established some dominance over the others, decided the best course of action was to go to sleep.

Gordon left early, before most of the other engines woke up. Now that he wasn't upset beyond reason, he felt bad about how he'd spoken to the other engines.

As he passed Wellsworth Station, he heard a faint "What's that horrible green monster, Ben?" and suddenly didn't feel as bad.

Even still, he should probably apologize, at least to some of them. BoCo didn't deserve to be spoken to like that.

He was still mulling this over when he got to the mainland. Henry was there, with the empty vans from the Flying Kipper. "Ah, Gordon... about last night."

"No need, Henry." Might as well put his best wheel forward. "I was under stress, but even then I was out of line. My apologies."

Henry did look surprised, but apologized as well. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have started joking when you were clearly in such a mood. What do the youths say nowadays? 'My Bad?'"

Gordon closed his eyes. "They do, but I think we're both far too old to be saying that."

"Too right!" Henry chuckled as his signal dropped. "Well, that's me off. I'll pass the word on to the others. I can't guarantee no jokes, but they'll at least be good ones!"

Henry's train dissapeared into the distance, and Gordon's driver pinched himself as he oiled Gordon's movement. "That was a genuinely mature conversation where you both acted like adults. Where am I and what railway am I on?"

Gordon blew steam on him.

Saturday was a full day for Gordon, and it was quite late by the time he rolled back into the shed at Tidmouth. Just as Henry had promised, most of the engines had said nothing about his paint, and if they did, it was usually something genuinely funny, or even (shockingly enough) sympathetic. Thomas, of all engines, even commiserated on how terrible the shade of green was, something that almost nobody else noticed.

(It really should rather be forgotten, but the undercoat is really awful - a terrible mixture of deep pea green that takes a horrible matte appearance once dried.)

In the shed, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and that could be very quickly traced back to one of the cleaners, who had brought in his guitar in and was sitting on a bucket, plucking away at it. He was quite good, and took requests.

It was quite hard for anyone to play Opera (Gordon's preferred musical choice) on an acoustic guitar, so instead Gordon chose to relax, close his eyes, and listen to the occasionally-on-key warbling of the other engines as they sang along with the songs.

Eventually, Henry had a request that he simply phrased as "that song", which drew quiet laughter from everyone else. Gordon didn't presume to know what Henry did and did not enjoy, and was interested to hear what song this could be.

🎶🎶

It started off all right, with a quiet guitar riff. From the hushed commands Henry was whispering to everyone else, it was clear that they all knew this song, at least a little.

🎶 It's not that easy bein' green

Gordon's eyes snapped open

🎶 Having to spend each day

They were all singing this, weren't they?

🎶 The color of the leaves

Yes, yes they were.

🎶 When I think it could be nicer

"Henry, I trusted you."

🎶 Bein' red or yellow or gold

"That was your first mistake!"

🎶 Or something much more colorful like that...

[putuponpercy]

I heard it was #greendon2022 so here’s my humanized take on a younger but still just as grumpy Gordon 💚

[13o7billionyearsinthemaking]

first "O' the indignity" moment

Gordon, 1-year-old with his few-day-old brother flying Scotsman first photo together

colored and clear version below

[ttte-tugscrowskullausmainblog]

Greendon 2022, lads.

And I finally make my contribution.

This is young Gordon from my human au. He is nineteen in this photo(still an absolute fuckin' unit).

Sorry this took so long, just got caught up with other things. Hope you enjoy. I'm going to sleep(it is 12am at the time of me posting this). Peace. ✌️✨

[horiizonsstuff]

[she lives in daydreams with me.]

my contribution to #greendon2022 since the month is about to end. also my watermark does change a lot so dont steal as always. reblogs are highly appreciated. Anyways normalize push back hair gords to have his hair down, babes cmon, hes so gender.

[tornadoyoungiron]

Has this joke been made yet? #Greendon2022

[askyoungiron]

Hay Gordon, have any of the other engines started teasing you for turning 100? And I'm surprised sir Topham hasn't thrown a big party for you, that's close to 100 years of pulling the express, thats a huge accomplishment. They gathered a ton of engines for Mallard's anniversary, I'm surprised there isn't anything for you, after all, you were the start of a huge long line of success, the A4s and so many more wouldn't be around without the prototype that started it all. Or am I feeding your ego too much?

Gordon: No, they haven't started teasing me. Everyone's been quite wonderful. I asked them not to do anything, I don't want fuss, although the Fat Controller insisted that I do a railtour with the touring company this year.

Maybe when I was younger I would have loved to bask in the attention, the many eyes upon me but these days I'm just tired, I don't like all that fuss. Like Edward was when I first came to Sodor you know? I think I get it now.

Who would be there to gather? There's no one else but me and my brother? My brother and I celebrated before he went into his rebuild but there's just us now. There's no one else.

I appreciate the sentiment but the A4's are not my brothers. I mean, Great Northern's still around in another form, but he was never nice to me and he doesn't care about me so why bother?

[greendreamer]

Hopefully I'm not too late. Here's my celebration of Greendon2022!

A mix of wonky eyes Gordon, young/baby engine and the fish eye meme.

[dieselstooyou]

The first week on sodor

Scotsman: a railway full of friends, loved ones and support, yet you still frown to this day.

Gordon: oh quite it scot, you know it's too look professional.

Full body, no background:

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

#Greendon2022 begins!

Celebrating the galloping sausage's big 100 for all of August. 💚

Tag for the event is now #greendon2022 (aligns well with last year's #redward2021 event) but was originally #greengord2022. Yes, if the Fat Controller were in charge, he would have run things better. We know.

[just-another-miserable-prick]

Here's my contribution for #Greendon2022!

Gordon and Scott. They're.. something. Once inseparable and indistinguishable, now worse than polar opposites.

It all started when they were but mere children. Scott always got more attention from their friends and siblings, which Gordon envied for a long time. Though it really started going downhill when the two got into competitive football.

Scott quickly climbed the ranks, winning trophy after trophy, with Gordon following shortly behind. As the years went on, Scott became something of a young celebrity, Gordon being left as an afterthought. This fame got to Scott's head over the years, constantly boasting about his achievements to anyone who would listen. With his fame growing by the year, no, by the day, their family was at Scott's every beck and call, leading to Gordon being completely ignored. He didn't think much of it, brushing it off, trying to be happy for his brother. This kept going until they were about 17, when Gordon had enough of his twin brother's ego getting bigger with every record he broke. It all came crashing down on him on a faithful Saturday, when Gordon, in a fit of about a decade's worth of built up rage, lashed out at his brother, beating him to a pulp. About halfway through, he came to his senses, realising what he's done. With his fist already covered in Scott's blood, and being sure about getting in trouble for doing this, he finished what he'd started, not giving Scott a chance to fight back, making sure to let him know how he's been trying to not beat him up sooner.

It seemed that Scott learned his place, even if it cost Gordon his own wellbeing. Because in good old sibling fashion, Gordon himself got himself a good old beating by his and Scott's older siblings after having his way with his twin. It didn't matter though. He finally gave his brother a reality check, and that's all that was important. This didn't last for long however, as Scott went back to his arrogant boasting in about a week. Things were quiet for the next few years. The two ignored each other's existence, going on about their own lives. That is, until Scott, unbeknownst to Gordon, started spreading rumours about Gordon's "violent outbursts" behind his back. This being the final drop in the bucket for Gordon. He looked for a new place to live, a new school to attend, packed anything he owned, and booked it. Not before beating Scott one last time, of course. This time, verbally. He didn't leave for good without being absolutely certain that his brother knew, or at the very least heard, what he's just lost.

This new home ended up being the Island of Sodor, where no one knew who he was or where he came from, only knowing that soul-piercing glare. He soon made himself at home on the tiny island, working on the weekends while finishing up his education during the week. He became something of a local celebrity himself in the years that followed. He was the best of the best in his line of work, and having learned from his brother's experience with this kind of fame, he made sure it didn't get to his head, thus he remained the local humble guy who just so happened to be somewhat famous. Slowly but surely, twenty years passed, and Gordon cut off contact with every member of his family on the mainland. He was happy without them. He met countless new people and ended up finding the love of his life along the way. Everything was quiet once again.

Then one day, Scott showed up during Gordon's lunch break, trying to "make amends". How did he find out where Gordon moved to? Why was he even here? Not to make amends, for sure. He should've known better than to try and lie to Gordon. He didn't have any of Scott's pathetic bluffs, bluntly telling him to go back to the mainland, he probably had business to attend to anyway. Scott kept insisting Gordon hears him out, but the latter gave him the cold shoulder, refusing to give in to his pleas. Realising that he's not gonna give in until he gets what he wants, Gordon gave him one final reality check before getting back to his work. By verbally beating him to the ground once again. He finished his own monologue by slapping Scott across both sides of his face for a final time as he told him to "fuck off back to the mainland". That was the last time they spoke. Which was 3 years ago.

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

HOO BOI, this took me two. FUCKING. days. Please don't let it flop-

[toast-com]

💚Happy Greendon 2022!!💚

[onyx-and-friends]

Siblings Reunited, Part 2

As the months flew by, the engines raced back and forth, hauling trains of whatever was requested by the workmen in the Steamworks during the restoration of the A3 Pacific purchased from Doncaster Works, later identified as former LNER No. 2560, Pretty Polly. As she was repaired, over time she got stronger and stronger, no longer falling into the realm of unconsciousness, and looking more and more like an actual engine every day. Gordon had noticed the strange uptick of freight going to the Steamworks recently, however no matter how much he asked, he could never get a straight answer out of anybody. His frustration only grew as he continued to try and find out what was going on. "Henry, what on earth is going on with you lot recently? You have been running at all hours of the day AND night, pulling trains to the steamworks!" Henrys eyes widened in shock as he looked at Gordon. "Well.. you see.. Uh.." Henry racked his smokebox for an excuse that was just dumb enough to work. "They.. Havent told us what theyre doing either! They just tell us what they need, we take it to them, and thats that!" Gordons eyes narrowed at his friend as they sat in the station. "Then why havent they asked me?" "They.. Uh.. They realize youre awfully busy with the express, and.. That you have a certain dislike of pulling freight.. So.." Henry hoped that Gordon couldnt see the nervousness in his eyes as they sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Thankfully, the express engine heaved a sigh and looked away. "Thats probably the straightest answer ive gotten out of any of you since all this nonsense began." He huffed, pulling out of the station with his express. Henry let out a breath he didnt know he was holding in as he watched Gordon leave. "That was close.." He groaned. "Too true." Came a new voice. Henry jumped as his eyes panned over to the other line, where Edward had silently pulled in. "Edward, you scared me!" Henry smiled. "any word on how her repairs are going?" He asked, looking to the 4-4-0. "Last i heard, she looks like an actual engine now!" Edward grinned. "Shes still unable to properly communicate with us, but once we get her back up to operational condition, we'll be in business!" Henry and Edward shared excited looks. "Thats wonderful! Do they have an estimated time of completion? August is coming up on us awfully fast.." The big green engine asked, his internal worry shining through his voice as his smile quickly turned into a worried frown. "They cant say for sure.. Theyre working practically 24/7 trying to get everything done on time.. Polly was in terrible condition when she arrived, you know!" Edward sighed, his own worries linking with Henrys. "Dont worry, Edward. If we keep going like we are now, we'll get done in no time. We've made remarkable progress in just a few months already." Henry gave his friend a gentle smile. "We'll pull through. Even if its by the paint on our boilers, we'll get done in time."