#momma the steamer

[1010neveragain]

happy woman day everyone i love women

[wonderful-magician]

Rusty, and Poppa and Momma!

Rusty, his adoptive father and his adoptive aunt... Might make Rusty a starlight express variant but idk yet

[potatoodles]

Everyone say steam!

[starburst2000]

Starlight Express Appreciation Month 2024!!

Day 16: Poppa & Momma!!!

��Let me hear you say "Steam"!🎶

[tabooiart]

STEX APPRECIATION MONTH DAY 16: (POPPA/MOMMA) MCCOY

spent a lot of time deliberating on whether I should draw Momma or Poppa but ended up deciding on Poppa since I feel like he gets less art

Favorite Actor(s):

Poppa: Lon Satton, Steve Fowler, Lothair Eaton

Momma: Reva Rice!!! Jade Marvin also does really well :)

Favorite Song/Scenes: I love all of their scenes with Rusty and the freight sooo much. Also Light At The End Of The Tunnel is such a good and underrated scene with some great vocal moments for McCoy!!

Favorite Costume(s): When it comes to Poppa, I think the Japan/Aus Tour really nailed the shapes and colors!!!! For Momma I like her Bochum costume except I don't like her skirt she wears in act 2. I don't understand their insistence on all the female characters wearing skirts just let her have overalls!!

Favorite Ships/Friendships: McCoy x Memphis Belle goes hard ngl. We could have had old lesbiansss. And of course I love them as a parental figure to Rusty and the freight!!! But I think they would offer advice and affection to anyone who came to them :)

Headcanons: The reason McCoy is still in such good condition despite their age is that they're kept around as one of those touristy steam train tours.

Unpopular Opinion: I like Momma and Poppa equally!!! In my ideal world it would be a genderblind role. On that note I am a #poppadefender4life I've seen people be so mean about him in the past, calling him manipulative etc and I really just think people need to examine why they really feel that way <3

[goblin-iz-whack]

I'm not very creative when it comes to OCs or questions about them but here we go.

Do your OCs know each other? If so, how is their relationship?

Is Laddie condemned to pull his coaches around or can he uncouple them? His story seems very interesting, do you have anything planned with him writingwise?

Did Bernadette work with someone we know (as agent)?

Plenty of them know each other! A few like Tally, Jay, Snowy, etc, all live in Apollo Victoria. Some, like Snowy, have familial relations to canon chars (She's Momma's sister and, therefore, Rusty's aunt), while others, like Jay, are part of known cliques (In their case, the Freight), but people like Tally are like those townspeople you see every day but aren't really close to.

Striker is Greaseball's adoptive Dad from another yard, Cherrycomb, they have a very close relationship and stay in touch.

But many aren't in Apollo Victoria, like Bernadette or Gio. Gio gets passed around a lot because nobody likes him- and Bernadette lives in a very high class yard that holds a lot of important trains.

Laddie didn't uncouple his "Coaches" (I put quotes because they aren't sentient) for a very long time. When the humans abandoned the zoo, nobody really told him what was going on or bothered to take him. He thought they were coming back for years, but they never did. He eventually uncoupled from them to try and figure out where everyone went, and it was the first time he ever left his little track. Long story short, he wasn't happy to find that he was completely alone.

One day, I do want to write about Laddie. I just procrastinate a lot and I have a billion other fics I want to do- I namely want to write something that will make people feel bad for him, annnnnd also include a crackship I came up with: Laddie x The Pipes/Smokebox-

Bernadette worked with Momma a bit back in the day, they keep in touch, and she sends a Christmas card every year. She also briefly met Greaseball before kicking him out for his asshole ways. Before Electra's components started doing all of it, he tried to hire her as an agent before she told him that while he was flashy and fast, his attitude would be his downfall and he left her office in a tizzy.

Thanks for the ask!

[phopollo]

What is steamer!Dinah's relationship to Greaseball? I picture them having an initially rocky relationship, but during arguments Dinah's whistle keeps going off which she's embarrassed about. Am I close?

Not really akfnsk

I fear Dinah is treated by Greaseball very similarly to how Rusty is, with an extra layer of stereotyping bc Dinah works so closely with the freight trucks

And Momma didn't raise someone who'd let herself be disrespected like that, so Dinah bites back a lot-- they simply cannot and do not get along. I think Greaseball makes her steam a lot, but not necessarily whistle-- although, yeah, I think maybe the first time they met (before Greaseball started being mean and rude) Dinah probably whistled bc of her, and she was absolutely mortified about it

Their dynamic doesn't start to change until halfway through the championship races-- bc Dinah races in place of Momma-- when everyone goes after Dinah and keeps trying to crash her out, but Dinah takes every hit and doesn't go down or crash, and she ends up winning the race

Greaseball starts to really respect her after that, but she doesn't want to say anything either because she's too egotistical to admit when her mind changes, and also like-- hey now?? Why is she respecting a steamer??? And-- DINAH of all steamers???? Insane. She could never......... but she definitely pulls back a bit on her targeting of Dinah because she can't bring herself to insult someone who powered through a race like that

They don't really start to get along until after Rusty wins, and Greaseball has been thoroughly humbled (she still has an "S.O.R.R.... R? Y" moment)

They kind of end up in the repair shed waiting to be fixed up at the same time (Greaseball bc,,, yknow, she crashed-- and Dinah is there too bc some stuff happens and she's low on fuel & reopened/pulled some of the injuries she'd gotten fixed from Heat 2), and it's so silly, and it's kind of the catalyst that starts them on good terms

Ily Steamer!Dinah AU, you are so funny

[dreamdancerdotfile]

how do you think the myth of the Starlight Express & the Starlight Sequence work in trainsformers? also i lovee this AU so much!!

First of all THANK YOU I'm very glad people are having as much fun with this au as I am!!

For the myth of the Starlight Express I think it would still work fine if it was a story Momma told Rusty/the freight of this Legendary Wise Steam Train (tm) BECAUSE!! It would be incredibly funny to bring Astrotrain into this. I know he's not in TFA in the first place but NOW he is, he came to earth for troop support or something, and in search for alt modes he just so happened to scan a historic engine which happened to be a steamer.

Which leads us to the scenario of this millions of years old triple changer meeting a tiny steam engine with self esteem issues and the latter is like "omg it's him. The Starlight Express (tm). He's real." and AT is just like. What. Who are you.

I dont yet know how the Starlight sequence would work to be honest it could either circle back to Momma or we go the full Astrotrain route and the triple changer warms up to Rusty and is like "hey tiny guy. If someone looks at you wrong you beat the shit out of them, okay?" or similar pep talk

[trealtox]

When Rusty asks Pearl to race with him she says that there is an engine of her dream that noone can replace. She specifies that it has to be the steam engine. I have checked and can tell, that there are only two steamers there: Rusty and Poppa/Momma. And since Pearl is not satisfied with Rusty, then can she be interested in *cough* more experienced *cough* engine?👀

[green-planets]

StEx Appreciation Month Day 11: Rockies!

🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨

Face Claims: Lashane Williams (Rocky 1), Martin Boothe (Rocky 2), Priscilla Osegie (Rocky 3), Richard Bodkin (Rocky 4)

Favourite Song/Scenes: Vegas boot where they fight a gang member bullying Rusty! There are also some boots where they square up whenever Greaseball's bothering Rusty or Poppa. Nobody touches their steamers! I also love watching them during Poppa/Momma's blues and Right Place, Right Time!

Favourite Costumes: I love the early Bochum costumes (pink Rocky you will always be famous to me) but I am partial to the 2018 Bochum update color line-up (blue 1, yellow 2, green 3). I like their boxing gloves too but they need to BRING👏BACK👏THE👏BOOTY👏SHORTS

Favourite Ships/Friendships: Rocky 1 x Brexit!! I don't think I have any other Rocky ships EDIT: I FOROR TO ADD FRIENDSHIPS D: They are friends with the freight crew, Rusty, Momma/Poppa, the coaches, and Memphis Belle!

Headcanons: I'm a 4 Rockies truther because the more the merrier!! (and Rocky 4 gets to be pink 😌) They taught Rusty the correct way to punch and block so he can defend himself better when they're not around

Unpopular Opinion: I have no idea how popular/unpopular this is but they could probably get away with casting the Rockies completely gender blind instead of having 1 token female (also stop giving her bright red lipstick please and thank you)

🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨🟩🟥🟦🟨

[wonderful-magician]

mum... She likes to boogie.

[aheathen-conceivably]

In the first days of 1925 Florence, Antoine, Zelda, and Violette all gathered on the docks where steam boats departed New Orleans. They were crowded and noisy with activity, men unloading fruits from the south mingling with passengers boarding vessels going east.

Despite being in the throes of winter, New Orleans was still relatively warm; at least, Zelda thought with a smile, warmer than any January she had ever known in England. Warmer than where her mother would be in just one short week.

It was strange to think that in so little time, she would back across the ocean, back to where she had been a year ago. Perhaps it was strangest to Zelda that almost a year ago to the day she had been laughing at herself as she danced in the mirror, the beads of her dress tinkling with the sounds of merriment. She had perhaps never known such carefree happiness; and yet here she was only a year later, a mother now herself.

The boat in the distance let out a long, droning horn, signifying that boarding was almost complete. Zelda swallowed her tears and looked to Florence, “Do you have everything, mother? All of your belongings? The portrait that we took?”

“Yes, my dear. And I will treasure it forever, as I will these last months.”

Then Florence looked toward Antoine, who was holding Violette in his arms. As he handed Florence her granddaughter, she looked up to meet his eyes, “Thank you for inviting me here, dearest. I will love you all forever. Please watch after them in my stead.”

Antoine answered Florence’s words with a heartfelt smile and a nod of silent promise. Florence returned his smile and then pulled Violette close to her chest, “Farewell my little one. Always be kind to your momma and poppa, and remember your old grandmama Florence.”

Before she handed the giggling infant back to Antoine, Florence swooped down to kiss Violette on the forehead, who gave a small laugh at the brush of one of Florence’s stray curls.

Finally she turned back to Zelda, who’s eyes were already filling with tears. Florence took Zelda’s hands in her own and looked into Zelda’s green eyes intently, “Oh my child, you were always stronger than you realized, please remember that. Your father knew it all his life, and that is why you are here, with these wonderful people in this wonderful place. You will be a marvelous mother. Okay, Zelda? Okay?”

With a silent shake of her head Zelda pulled her mother close to her, contemplating whether she could ever let go. Florence patted her softly on the back, kissing her on the forehead before smiling at them all one last time. Then she turned her back to them and walked toward the steamer to venture across the Atlantic back to England.

The steamer gave another long call of its horn and Zelda, Antoine, and Violette looked up toward the ship. Florence had joined dozens of other passengers on the ornate balconies outside of their state rooms so that they could wave goodbye to their loved ones below.

As Florence shouted out an inaudible farewell, the boat pulled away with a loud song, clouds of steam rising to meet the clouds above. A sharp pain radiated through Zelda. Her mother was gone; seemingly almost as quickly as she had arrived. Perhaps more truly than ever before Zelda realized that her past was behind her.

England seemed like another world entirely, a world that contained her childhood, her pain and her sorrows. A small part of her knew that she may never see it again, and watching the back of the ship, she realized that she could never get back her life there, her father or her sister, or even her own youth. There was a moment of peace and then a pang of sadness as she realized that with her homeland behind her, she may never see her siblings or her mother ever again.

Zelda turned toward Antoine, who was still bouncing Violette in his arms. With a silent look, he handed their child to her. Perhaps to allay her own sadness, Zelda held Violette close to her chest. Looking down into her innocent eyes, Zelda couldn’t deny it: she was afraid. Afraid of being a mother on her own, afraid of her future, afraid of how Violette would navigate through the world.

Zelda looked back up at Antoine, who seemed to know precisely what was troubling her. He offered her a reassuring smile, tilting his forehead down to meet his daughter’s. Zelda forgot about the ship for a moment, about England or Rosella or even about never seeing her mother again.

The love in his eyes told her that they would be alright. At that moment the world went still and she was sure that together, with and through eachother, they would be more than alright.

[whistlingstarlight]

StEx in real life Part 1: Engines

These are mostly headcanon, as there are either too many inconsistencies or not enough information to properly assign every character an irl basis, but I thought it would be fun to do. Explanations are provided for each.

Rusty: CNJ 2-6-2T

Rusty was very hard to pick an irl counterpart for, as if he is based on a particular engine it's hard to tell as his helmet is misshapen to accommodate the actor's visibility. I feel like Rusty is more likely a tank steamer than a tender, and the helmet looks more like it has side tanks than any other shape. This 2-6-2 has a cowcatcher, a lamp on top of the smokebox, and even the same style of cab window as Rusty. So I'm satisfied to choose this as my irl counterpart for him.

Greaseball: EMD E9 A-unit

This isn't really headcanon as Greaseball's helmet looks incredibly close to an E9, and they're very iconic and memorable Union Pacific's rolling stock.

Electra: SNCF CC40101

This one is just literally fact. Electra is surprisingly the most specific character when it comes to their basis, as he has it printed on his helmet. It's an outdated choice for the "engine of the future", but he certainly looks retro-futuristic.

Poppa/Momma: Kansas Central 2-6-0

This one is very contradictory to what little info we have on the Old Steamer's class, but I decided to go with it. Poppa wears the Kansas Central logo on his hat, and given their similar designs I choose to believe Momma is from the same company. In Broadway Poppa is called "the Big Boy", but to my knowledge no UP Big Boys ever worked for KCS, and as the KCS logo lasted longer than the Big Boy line I prefer to use that. I love the idea of Poppa and Momma being old-fashioned American steamers, and this was the only KCS I could find.

Greaseball's gang

These ones are honestly just pure headcanon and very self-indulgent based on some of my favourite diesels. Felt weird leaving them out but trust me, there's nothing in canon to justify these.

Tank: KM ML 4000

Lube: BR Class 122

Gear: BR Class 08

[the-sad-town]

Love is Real (Real is Love)

One Shot / 4,500 words Relationship: Main Character Polycule (Hydra, Dinah, Pearl, Rusty, Electra, Greaseball) Summary: Six times in which Hydra learned to love.

It was always different with Rusty. Even after he'd first been transferred to Railyard '24 and been introduced to Momma and the other freight, there’d been something different about the young steamer that Hydra couldn’t quite articulate.

Rusty had been one of the few (Momma being the other) who went out of their way to talk to him; much less show him an earnest lick of kindness. Though this fact was only apparent to him much later after some degree of soul searching. But in the moment, he rather enjoyed the engine’s companionship. And they found themselves keeping the other company during quiet times in the yard.

One night, they had rolled past the race track and into the hills and valley beyond the yard’s boundaries. They crossed the river, encircled the edge of the mountain, felt the harshness of the wind stroke through their hair; in a mock race with nothing on the line. Laughing, adrenaline pumping, their brakes sparked to a slow halt just outside the perimeter after they’d been past several laps. And both rolling stock collapsed beside one another, knees in the damp ground.

Rusty was the one to break the air between them. “That was…wow. I’ve never raced like that before.”

Hydra tilted his head to catch a glimpse of Rusty. He hadn't noticed before how cute he was when he was exhausted. “I wouldn’t mind giving it a whirl, like for real I mean, if you were the one leading.”

Something about Rusty made him feel like it was an okay thing to say. Porter and Slick would’ve roasted him to hell and back for that. Rusty didn’t say anything. The moonlight was so gentle against the small engine’s skin as he gave him a sweet smile. And for some reason that felt like enough.

“I should, I should get going.” Rusty got up and rolled off towards his shed. “I’ll see you in the morning, Hydra.”

“‘Night Rusty.”

When they parted for their separate sheds, the entire conversation played back over and over in Hydra’s mind. Where did all of that come from?

It wasn’t until just before the final heat of the championship when it finally all made sense to him. Initially, he’d heard that there’d been a wreck involving Rusty. And so he headed out to that section of track to see if the steamer was alright. When he got there, the first thing he saw was Rusty’s eyes plastered to the sky. The closest comparison Hydra could think of was that of someone on a trip who had thought they’d seen into the eyes of God. But there were none of the usual checkboxes that indicated the presence of drugs.

Hydra saw a rawness that could only come from the authentic self. Rusty was so vulnerable at this moment. And seeing that made things so obvious to Hydra. Whatever had just happened to the engine, he didn’t know. But he knew he had to do something. Make anything happen.

“It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when…”

~

His feelings for Pearl were the worst case scenario, Hydra decided after it all became clear to him. She had caught his eye when they met briefly, just before the championship. Off the bat, he noticed how small she was and how new everything seemed to her. It was adorable. And because she was coupled to Rusty after everything had settled down, they had the chance to get better acquainted. In the beginning, it was Hydra playing the third wheel for his best friend and his best friend’s girl. But things evolved. And it soon wasn’t uncommon to see Hydra and Pearl spending time together independently of Rusty. As it turned out, it wasn’t that everything seemed new to her. But so much was totally new. Coming to the yard, she was just six months off the assembly line. But even as Pearl accustomed herself to life on the rails and expanded her understanding of how the real world worked, her wide eyes never receded.

She had shown up to Hydra’s shed one afternoon, distraught, and explained to him that she’d lost her hair clip. It was a dark purple thing, matching the paint of her accents, and formed the vague shape of a butterfly. So the two began their search around the perimeter of the coach sheds and the passenger platform.

“I remember I had it when I left the shed, because I was running late and had to fix my hair while skating over. So if I dropped it before we left, it’d be around here somewhere,” Pearl explained as she sifted through the gravel lining that carpeted the tracks.

“When’d you notice it was gone?” A little further down the rails, Hydra’s eyes flitted between the sleepers in the track.

“During the afternoon shift. After we left the ’24.” She swatted at the gravel and got back onto her wheels. “That clip was all I had when I left the assembly line. Hydra, what if we can’t find it?”

Hydra rolled to her side, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. There had been such a deep sadness in her eyes when she said that. They gave her a smirk of reassurance. “It’ll be fine. You remember having it. It couldn’t have gotten far. Well, not too far for us to find it.”

She returned the smile, taken by Hydra’s calming effect. “You’re right. My hair clip is bright enough, it wouldn’t be hard to spot it on the tracks.”

Starlight, he just wanted to take all that was wrong with the world, crinkle it up like a paper ball, then take the good that was left and hand it to her on his knees. With her, everything got the idealist treatment. She was willing to let Slick have a second chance after the whole racing fiasco (Rusty had been reluctant and even Hydra couldn’t find it in him to see things the same way). Pearl wasn’t dumb by any means. Naive? Probably. But not dumb. She just saw—and hoped—for the best in everything. And maybe it was a bit much at times. Sometimes he wished he could share in it as whole-heartedly as she did.

“C’mon, we haven’t looked this way.” Pearl nudged him by the hand, towards the opposite end of the platform. She went that way. He didn’t follow.

Hydra stooped down to his stoppers. He squeezed a handful of dirt in his palm, letting the dust trickle through his clasp and back down to the ground. What was he thinking? Pearl was already spoken for. And she was far too loyal to her engine for Hydra to even remotely consider it. Or even for him to even think of meddling in what was already such an attractive pair. Whatever he was doing—or feeling—now, no it wasn’t right. How could he do this to his friend? Especially one whom, as they had already come to terms with, they were also harboring deep feelings for?

Gazing over at Pearl, who was focused on picking through the gravel at the base of the passenger’s platform, Hydra felt an ache in his soul. Knelt down in the rocks and grime, her armor made her stand out like a quartz. She was so beautiful and yet all of this was so wrong. He couldn’t do this. Not anymore.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Sorry Pearly, I just remembered. I need to run some H-strain over to Green Arrow asap. I’ll give you a hand when I get back. Alright?”

“Oh, okay! I’ll see you later!” She exclaimed without looking up from the concrete. Had she watched him leave, she would’ve seen him sprint away from her

But Hydra never made do on his excuse or promise. Instead, he spent the remainder of the day huddled in his shed with a joint and a Minecraft binge session. The best treatment, yet regrettably not a cure, for conflicted heart syndrome.

~

If his guilt over Pearl wasn’t bad enough, his guilt over Dinah was worse. He had always admired her from afar, from the time he first came to the yard. She was pretty and had a smile to die for. But since interaction between freight and coaches, especially during work, was rare; it stayed a shallow crush for quite a while. But then Hydra and Rusty were spending more time together. And since Dinah was like a sister to Rusty, they too ended up seeing more and more of one another. Quickly, she became more than a pretty face.

There were things he began to pick up on that hadn’t been so obvious during yard social events or the fleeting moments when freight and coaches came together. Her enthusiasm for baking (which he shared), her extensive loyalty to those she cared for, and the perfectionist eye she put into nearly everything she did. Sure she had moments of coming undone, foregoing common sense or logic in the heat of her feelings. That much he had figured before. But at the same time she was so confident and collected; he admired that in her. She didn’t give herself enough credit for it.

On the day he realized how incredible she really was, Dinah had agreed to accompany him on another round of his out of yard errands. It was simple enough, pick up power converters from the next yard over (his own we’re starting to wear) and deliver some H-strain to a flatcar there. In and out. Five mile journey tops.

But nonetheless, it became another one of Hydra’s famous side-quests. At some point they had managed to switch onto the wrong track. Instead of the Apollo-Victoria Station, they found themselves at a pass between the mountains. Down the ledge beneath them was a short but definitely bumpy fall into a short ravine of bushes thick enough to obscure the earth beneath.

Clenched fists pressed against his waist, Hydra was poised atop a rock that ultimately proved useless for getting a good look at the landscape around them. “Well, we’re definitely lost.” He turned to face Dinah, who was examining the tracks from which they had just come from. The way in which her eyebrow cocked as she concentrated was not lost on Hydra.

“Do you think it was by the bridge or the foot of the mountain where we made the wrong turn?” “She looked up to him atop the rock. “I can retrace our tracks to the mountain just fine but after that-“

It was then that Hydra felt one of his wheels slip on the uneven surface. He lost his footing and tumbled off the rock. Grunting with each point of impact against the ground, his chassis rolled down and through the overgrown grass and thorn bushes until he came to a rough stop at the bottom. There he felt a sliver of movement brush against his left calf.

“Hydra!? Are you hurt?” Dinah called down to him, carefully yet quickly stepping down the incline, practically stepping blind with how thick the foliage was.

He lurched up into a sitting position, reaching over to rub his sore shoulder. “I’m gonna bruise in the morning. But other than that…“ Hydra yelped as a pinching jolt shot through his calf. There was a faint hiss and a shark’s fin of glimpse of brown dashed through the grass. Just long and clear enough for Hydra to identify the copperhead as the one that had sunk its fangs into him.

Hydra’s leg pulsated with pain. He had to hoist it upright in order to get a good look at the bite mark in his calf. It hadn’t managed to break through the metal, at least not completely. But it was enough of a dent that one could see where the copperhead’s venom would start to seep in and mix with the hydrogen coursing through his chassis. He grimaced at the sight, already feeling numbness make its way through his leg frame. It wouldn’t kill him, of course, but the next twenty-four hours weren’t going to be fun for him or the snake.

Dinah arrived at the bottom. Hydra pointed to the wound. “Copperhead bit me. Poor guy.”

“Oh let me see…” She sank down next to him, examining the wound. “Ohhh…”

Hydra’s eyes darted between his throbbing leg and the top of the incline, calculating the ways in which they could get home like this. Maybe she could go on ahead to the station, AV or 24; whichever came first. Then he could haul himself up the hill, army style, and hopefully by the time he got himself to the top she’d have found a mechanic who could then-

He was yanked out of his thoughts by Dinah tearing a slice of her sleeve off and tying it tightly around his leg. “That’ll keep it from spreading as much.” Before he could ask what she was doing, Dinah had pulled one of his arms over her shoulder. “Alright, I need you to give it your all. Can you stand up?”

“Di, I-“

“No arguing. The faster we move the better,” she insisted. Hydra did as she said. He just barely managed to push himself onto his wheels and roll forward, with half his weight on his one responsive leg and the rest against Dinah. But they managed to make it work, hiking through the ravine until they found a gap that allowed them to hitch back onto the ledge where the tracks ran.

Through the glimpse of her determined face he managed to catch, Hydra felt a sense of ease overcome him. And it definitely wasn’t the venom settling in. This was a self-assured coach who always seemed to know just what to do. Even if she hadn’t a clue in this moment, he wouldn’t have let it worry him. They would figure things out. Together.

Once the snake’s venom was flushed out of his system and he could feel his leg properly again, Hydra decided he never wanted to be anywhere Dinah wasn’t.

But then came the problem. Dinah was coupled to Greaseball. Hydra wasn’t a freak, he wasn’t about to stick his nose where it wasn’t wanted. And in no universe did he ever expect Greaseball to be willing to share. Starlight, it was Rusty and Pearl all over again. Only now with the added danger of a very angry diesel.

Lying in a field outside the yard’s boundaries one night, Hydra brought a joint or two to enjoy the cacophony of stars above. The smoke from each hit grazed the sky above by clouds darkened by the night. He lamented on his love life to a doe that had been attracted by the scent of H-strain.

“I mean, I really do care for them. It’s not some dumb crush or anything like that. I love them. And that’s the thing, if any of them know, it’s all over. Rusty won’t want me around Pearl, she won’t want me around him; Greaseball will hunt me for sport.” The hand that held their joint rubbed the bridge of their nose before they let their head roll to the side. “It’s like, I have to choose between the friendship and how I feel, and like, it's obvious what I’m gonna do but I hate that I have to make it in the first place… Starlight, why does it all have to be so complicated?”

The deer twitched its nose before leaning down to graze gently on the grass. Hydra chuckled before taking another hit. “You’re so right about that.”

He wound up never having to make a choice. Everyone came clean to one another in a falling cacophony of events that ended with the first polycule meeting—and Hydra discovering his feelings weren’t one sided. The six of them negotiated boundaries and needs with the intensity of generals going to war. Greaseball had shocked him with her willingness to let Dinah be with Hydra and Pearl (equally shocking was the revelation of something between the girls and Electra that went way back).

For the first time since closing on the agreement, the six rolling stock huddled on the coach shed couch (the only one available that could handle all of them at once). Some action film (that they’d taken forever deciding on) blared on the TV to minds still in awe over how everything had come to be. Dinah’s hands were occupied by Greaseball and Hydra on opposite sides. Pearl held Hydra’s other hand, and the warmth of Rusty’s boiler was a warm blanket around all of them. For the longest time, that’s how things worked out. None of them could've dreamt of how things would soon escalate.

~

Electra was never their type. Frankly, if they hadn’t shared the same partners, Hydra wouldn’t have given the electric a very close look. Especially after the championship. But the situation being as it may, the others encouraged the two to spend some time together. No one expected them to fall for one another, but it only made sense that they ought to get comfortable.

Hydra dipped a Chicken McNugget into the pallet of ketchup he had made in the box before chowing down as though he’d never tasted it before. Their hands and wrist were smeared with ketchup and grease but he didn’t seem to mind. Electra watched through the edge of their eye, tightly grasping a medium Ginger Ale; the only thing on the McDonald’s menu that hadn’t sent shivers down their spine with thoughts of grease and cholesterol.

The hydrogen truck and the electric engine sat atop a steel beam in the freight side of the yard. They watched as, in the distance, Porter and Lumber were chucking a hubcap back and forth like a frisbee. The electric and the freight truck hadn’t said a word to one another since ordering their food. Hydra had tried to count the number of times the two had been alone together since the polycule started and couldn’t get past a shaky third finger. Both had spent the time mentally daring the other to say the first remark, while also stubbornly refusing to do it themselves.

Electra checked their phone. They’d have to be home in forty-five minutes; and were they going to say to the others when asked how it went? And so they tried for the (other) thing that they knew for certain the two had in common.

“Electricity is very sustainable for the environment. Less roads and less need for oil.”

Hydra licked the ketchup off his fingers. “So does hydrogen.”

“I thought you were going to say something about hydrogen being better,” they remarked, remembering Hydra’s many public tangents.

But the truck merely shrugged. “Who knows. I mean, the end goal is the same, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” Electra took another sip of their drink. “You should know, I was never a huge enthusiast about the whole environmental thing. It’s all fine and good, but it’s not something I think about when I… tout the benefits of electricity.”

“That’s a light way of putting it, but I see your point.” “It’s kind of funny, you really are pretty passionate about that but like… I don’t know, you just seem reserved about it. Like you’re holding back.” Hydra paused to formulate his thoughts. “People say I tend to run my mouth a lot when I talk about hydrogen…”

“Now that’s a light way to put it,” Electra interjected.

“But when you do the same thing, you’re so chill about it. What I’m trying to say is that I think that’s really cool of you.”

The electric’s eyebrow arched. They knew precisely what he was talking about; . But hearing it come from Hydra only made it all the more eye-opening. “I don’t need to lecture about what I can show off. Thank you.”

Hydra passed the box Electra’s way, looking at them with a cocked eyebrow. Electra held their breath before picking out a nugget with two very loose nails. They ate it in one bite, giving the best smile they could while also trying not to scream over thoughts of chicken grease.

Even after the cup was empty and the nuggets reduced to just a few crumbs. The two stayed on that beam, talking until the streetlights came on about nothing and everything.

~

Greaseball was the most pleasant thing in his life that had just sort of happened. Any attraction to one another had gone unrecognized and unacknowledged in the early days of the polycule. They weren’t quite friends at that point, but they weren’t enemies either. Maybe there was a little bit of bitterness there too—Greaseball was certainly not doing the planet any favors. And Hydra had been one half of the pair to take her champion title after all.

But sharing two partners and being in such close proximity with one another turned into the get along shirt neither knew they needed. They started off only hanging out together in the context of the polycule. But it quickly became clear how well they matched the other’s energy and humor; and sharing multiple loves together didn’t not help either. The bridge began to come together. It wasn’t her fault she was built to run on oil. And all he had done was play the game the way it was meant to. In enough time, the two could be found yapping over a joint and some Call of Duty. Just the two of them.

It had started with Hydra and Greaseball spamming stupid memes into the group chat they shared with Dinah. Basic SpongeBob ones at first that Dinah could at least pretend to understand. Then they’d gotten increasingly abstract shitposting, images deep fried by pixels and nonsensically cryptic meaning. On Reddit, Hydra found a picture of a shark in a toilet captioned “Benjamin” in neon purple text and sent that to the group chat. Somehow that ended up being the breaking point.

Their dumb, reckless laughter had been strong enough to hear with clarity from the kitchen. Dinah rolled into the living room and found them, separated by the middle cushions, clutching their sides. Greaseball hammered her fist into the side of the throw pillow she had her face buried into.

Throughout the rest of their lazy Saturday at home, even the utterance of the caption set off Hydra and Greaseball into another fit. If put on the spot, neither of those involved could’ve explained what made it so funny. But unlike Dinah, that didn’t stop Greaseball or Hydra. After dinner that night was interrupted by Hydra’s sudden remembrance of the fish (and Greaseball almost choking on her glass of diesel because of it), Dinah stood up to make a proclamation.

“I swear to Starlight, if I hear about that stupid fish one more time, I’m going to lose it!” she announced to the other five at the table. This would not be the last she’d hear of Benjamin for the day.

But by the time the ‘Cule had settled down for bed, the image of that shark in the toilet might as well have been psychic, with how vibrant it was in their minds. The lamp turned off with a click. Hydra snuggled into Dinah’s back while she did the same into Greaseball. His lips pursed as he struggled to retain his laughter. Believing their girlfriend to be asleep, Hydra lifted his head and leaned in towards Greaseball. Dinah’s eyes burst open upon hearing the forbidden word:

“Benjamin.”

And with that, Hydra and Greaseball’s respective pillows were tossed into their hands and the bedroom door was shut.

The diesel and the freight giggled to themselves all throughout the walk of shame to the mattress behind the couch. And as they tucked in between the thin, mysteriously stained sheets. Now lying on their backs, a cigarette’s width of space between them on the twin sized surface . Greaseball interjected their laughter with more utterances of “Benjamin.” The mattress vibrated beneath them with tremors of their repressed snickers.

Hydra rolled to his side, intending to say it again, but said nothing instead. In that instant he saw, the diesel next to him was an alien who had infiltrated the Greaseball he knew for years before the championship, who’d allowed him to be with their girlfriends. When was the first time he saw her so peeled back? So happy in her own skin?

They stared at one another for a moment as the laughter faded. Hydra tried his damndest to read her; did Greaseball sense the same charge running through her? She smashed her lips onto his, the motion feeling so alien and yet so natural to both of them. Greaseball expertly flipped over so she was straddling his waist. Looking back on it all, Hydra could never pinpoint exactly when he had fallen for her. And maybe that was partly what made it all so exhilarating. She seemed so determined to challenge every fiber of his being and he couldn’t get enough of it. He deepened the kiss, trying to get as good a taste of her as he could.

~

In many senses of the phrase, he couldn’t explain where Bernadette came from. Everything just sort of happened. After finding out that Greaseball was pregnant—and decided that they were going to keep it—Hydra had been tormented by thoughts over whether or not he could properly bond with the baby. It wasn’t like he had a great frame of reference to draw upon.

In the Facility, the White Coats had heaped their paper words onto him because of hardware specs, fuel cells, and theories being proven true. Only fairly recently had he come to terms with the reality of it all. Something as real and unconditional as what a child needed had been so foreign to him. His partners, and even Momma, had all assured him he would love the baby just fine and what a great father he was going to be. But it wasn’t until Greaseball handed him the newborn trainlet that things finally clicked.

It was a little girl, and a hydrogen truck at that. She felt so weightless in his hands, as though a slight gust of wind would be enough to carry her away. Late into the night following the delivery, Hydra’s partners had fallen into well deserved sleep. But he stayed up, seated deep in one of the delivery room chairs, the infant who had joined her parents in sleep between his arms. He simply watched her tiny chassis rise and fall with breath. With a deft finger, he traced the tiny paint stripes on her cheeks, reveling in the mixture between his and Greaseball’s paint.

Not even a full day old and already he felt his engine swelling at the sight of. She was beautiful; their beautiful baby girl. There were no words to justify the way he felt. And that was the incredible thing about it, it didn’t need any explanation at all. Knowing that that worry had been for naught was enough to bring a smile to his face.

Hydra stayed there well into the sun’s waking moments, comfortably sat between his own feelings and the life that had brought them to him. He was the luckiest freight car in the world.

[goblin-iz-whack]

SNOWY SOUNDS SO COOL!! What are they like??

My beefy girl.

Snowy is Apollo Victoria's resident Snow Plow. She's a steamer, she's massive, and she has ice skates rather than normal skates!

She reverse hibernates, sleeps all year until winter.

She has a husband, Fireball. He loves his giant wife, I imagine they have an army of kids somewhere.

She's a parallel to Momma/Poppa, as she's an older train that is the leader of a group of freight trucks. Her trucks are meant to deliver supplies during harsh winters, which she is equipped to lead them through.

One of my first StEx ocs, we stan her.

[welcome-to-the-districts]

Precious Moments

This takes place before the war in my AU, and is more of a soft and wholesome Drabble. If you’d like to learn more about my AU, please see the pinned post. If you have questions, feel free to ask them. Drabble under the cut.

You are sitting at the very edge of the freight yard close to the rails, reading a book before you look away from your book and see the rusted up humanoid steam engine resting his large head on your legs as he sleeps. Tendrils of steam slowly and idly swirl in the air with every exhale of the steam engine as steam billows from his nostrils with every breath he takes. His breath is slow, and deep as he snores softly. You can’t help but smile at the sight, gently raising a hand before you carefully scritch the top of his head, his hair feeling like fur of some sort, prompting a deep chittering noise from the steamer as a small smile tugs at his lips. He stretches out and yawns like a giant cat, showing off an impressive set of sharp teeth. They’re nearly as long as your hand, designed to help the steamer in fighting, taking down and devouring any prey he is to come across.

Despite this, you feel no fear, as Rusty is one of the most gentle engines in the yard, alongside Poppa and Momma. You smile faintly at the sight of him resting so peacefully. He earned it no doubt from working so hard in the freight yard all day. Of course, you’re an off duty worker who is taking a break from working overtime this late at night. You can’t complain though. You’ve gained the trust of Rusty some time ago and it definitely came with its perks. This being one of them. It’s an easy excuse to get out of work. No one is willing to disturb a sleeping engine, essentially the equivalent to waking a sleeping dragon. It’s ill advised as the engine may be rather unpredictable when waking up. Yet, deep down, you know he would never harm you. You are safe with him and you know it.

You return your attention to your book, resuming your reading as you use the warm light from the firebox in his chest as your lighting. The combination of Rusty’s warmth, presence and the calmness of the night so far is quite relaxing to you. You savor this precious moment as much as you can, for you never truly know when little moments like this will be gone.