#of the Pride Firemane

[defiant-firefly]

Okay so I’ve been back from Pride for a few hours now and. I’m calling it now, my voice is not gonna work tomorrow lmao I was talking to so many people for so long it was great

Like, the show was great, the acts were a bit hit and miss but honestly I feel kinda bad for some of them given how awful the wind has been but you know, they did great all things considered. It really was fuckin’ wimdy like maaaan. Loads of such nice people to talk to, and the companies that sponsored it literally did not pull punches like I know we talk about companies being performative or whatever but like. They did not half ass this holy shit?? They even made the fuckin’ lawnmowers gay whadda hell?? Oh and some of these people had the best rainbow hats like they had felt rainbow cowboy hats and fedoras, and then dresses of mixed flags, and flag capes and shit it was so fuckin’ cool.

And you know what? Everything was so fuckin’ cheap???? In a world where everything is so stupid expensive I got ten sugar donuts for £3 which is honestly ridiculous. Burgers and shit were the same and they were huge??? I only had the donuts there were too many there for me so I went around some of the cool stall holders I’d spoke to and got them to take a few from me they were so good. Speaking of stall holders, my old PE teacher from school was one???? For one of the charities there???? She was a fun teacher but I swear it was like Perry the fucking Platypus. She took her sunglasses off and suddenly I knew exactly who she was as if we hadn’t been talking for a few minutes already and then she immediately clocked onto who I was and it was just crazy that is the last place I expected to see her and the last person I expected to see at Pride of all things. She gave me free flowers because I kept losing on the tombola lmao

But yeah for reals everything was so cheap and often straight up free like I feel like I robbed some of these people what. And you know what? Two of the stalls sold phone charms despite modern phones not having a thing for those anymore. Not a problem for me though, I use an MP3 Player still and let me tell you... the audible gasp I got when I pulled it out of my pocket like ‘oh will it work on this?’. Guys people love the MP3 player apparently. Old tech for the win.

I’d say babys first Pride Event was a success that was great. Happy Pride Season and happy first day of Disability Pride month!

[clairintr]

Bisexual Pride Icon cuz it's why not because June right now

[prettyboypistol]

Yo, cis guy here, I've always felt a lot of shame about being super gay for the tf2 men, because it made me feel like less of a man. You reckon I could possibly get a scout or engie x reader when theyre calling the reader handsome, pretty boy, big man, and lots of masculine petnames? Smut or fluff or ignoring this is fine

I really like your work dude 😁

fellow cis guy here- I totally get it man. i'm glad that other guys like me enjoy my work. I also struggled with my attraction to men and fictional men were (and still are) my escape from homophobia and biphobia. Stay safe, you're valid.

TF2 Mercs With a Masculine!Male Reader

Scout

He loves squeezing your muscles and feeling your abs, totally not thinking of you as a goal for himself!

Nicknames include: Big man, big boy, sweet cheeks, hot shot/stuff, bossman, stud, etc.

likes the feeling of your facial hair when you kiss him- it tickle/scratches him in the best way!

Soldier

Thinks of you as the best man in the unit of RED! You're an exemplary man with gusto and power to spare! Solly fell for you when he caught you on a morning run "to keep yourself fit". That dedication got his heart skipping!

Nicknames include: Soldier, pride, the unit's pride and joy, big man

arm. wrestling. as. flirting., sparring. as. flirting. honestly anything that gets him up close and personal to you

Pyro

Hold onto you like a damsel in distress and loves how protective you are over them. As much as Pyro would and has protected you from enemy Spies, they like depending on someone who can hold their own.

nicknames include: My fire, firefly, my fireman, big boy, handsome

They love how you treat them like "just another one of the boys" rather than "the creature"- it really hurts their feelings when they're excluded due to how they cope with life.

Engineer

God he couldn't have asked for a better assistant. You grab heaps of metal for him, toolboxes, and sentries you can pick up with both hands and carry over to him!

Nicknames include: Hoss, handsome, big man, sir, boss

loves watching you work out while he works on his bench (sometimes even being your bench weight)

Demoman

He treats you like how he'd treat any partner of his, no changes. Demo's kind, loving, tender, but would let you fend for yourself to not baby you.

Nicknames include: dear, darlin', lovely, loverboy, handsome, best-shag-of-my-life

loves cuddling up to you and just burying his face in your muscles- but when he's not sleepy he is constantly hooting and hollering about how awesome his boyfriend is.

Heavy

a lot more friendly about his romance, treating you more like a best friend than a romantic partner in public mainly due to his anxiety about "being caught"

nicknames include(mostly in russian): lover, love, handsome man, hero, heart

he loves kissing your strong hands and sliding his hands over your muscles, it assures him that you're strong enough to take care of yourself, and that eases his worries.

Sniper

god this is a useless gay man. he sees you crush a bonk can and his heart skips a beat. you take off your shirt and he's speechless. you make him unprofessional and it ruins him internally.

nicknames include: Hotstuff, love, mate, darling, chickadee, big bugger, bear

he likes asking you to carry his stuff, complaining about his aching arms (totally not to watch you carry his things!!!)

Medic

ooooh god this man is a HOMOSEXUAL for you. on GOD.

nicknames include: honeybear, my love, my heart, my magnum opus, big man, beast

can, has, and will continue to flirt with you on the battlefield, no matter who sees him do it. If anyone gives you shit for being gay, he's instantly at your side and ready to beat them down with you

Spy

i mean... if you have a degradation kink go ahead i guess? he treats you like a bodyguard in public and is cold and callous in other's eyes. they think he hates you. In private however he is all over you. kissing, holding, embracing, etc., whispering sweet nothings in your ears.

nicknames include: my sweet love, my man, my handsome, big beauty, sweetness

although he seems uncaring in public, anyone who disrespects you gets backstabbed as "target practice" later when they least expect it.

[wannaeatramyeon]

do not know if youre accepting requests rn but i keep thinking abt james lee carrying us w/ one arm😍😍😍😍

Gotta be honest, I had no idea what this carrying with one arm was until I googled it!

James Lee/DG x Reader: One arm

G/N. Pre DG. Fluff.

"What?" James lifts up his head from his school desk to find you hovering over him, hand on your hips and face full of challenge.

"Carry me with one arm."

"No."

"Why? Is it because you're weak?"

.

.

"Not like this!"

"I'm doing it, aren't I?" comes his voice from somewhere behind you. "I'm not using anything."

He's not wrong. Having heaved you over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, and now leaving you to balance precariously while he stands with one hand in his pocket, and the other twirling the lollipop in his mouth.

You can't see his face but you know for certain he is looking unbearably smug.

.

.

"Put me down!"

Talk about manhandling. James grabbed you with one hand, curling it around your waist and lifting you effortlessly until you're left parallel with the ground. You're tucked snug under his armpit and into his side like you weighed hardly anything.

Like an exasperated parent with an errant baby. This is not the vibe you were going for.

"Fine."

"W-wait!"

The fall was no more than a few feet. It hurts your pride way more than your body.

You slap the lollipop out of his hand as payback.

James just pulls a fresh one from his pocket.

.

.

"Damn, you really are strong."

"I know." James flashes you a smirk, lollipop poking between his fangs.

He gives you a small bounce, adjusting his arm beneath you, hand lightly gripping your thigh. You tip off-balance, ever so slightly, and throw your own arms around his neck for support.

This. This is what you wanted.

"I know what you're doing." His voice is completely flat except the glimmer in his eyes gives away his fondness for you.

"And?" Well if James knows, then you make no secret of your next move, snuggling up close to him and feeling his huff of laughter on your cheek.

He eases, a little. Not familiar with gentle touches, not familiar with this forwardness. It's not what he's used to, but it's not not nice. Maybe he can get used to it.

"And nothing."

[just-an-emily-existing]

“Every year on the date of the accident, it runs again, plunging into the river like a lost soul!”

What she looked like when she was alive

TW: BLOOD, ARROW THROUGH CHEST, NSFW HEADCANONS (They’ll be highlighted in red)

🩶Headcanons🩶

Used to be very friendly but became more bitter and stressed as her life went on.

Has always wanted to be a mother.

She would give train rides for kids and would act like Duncan, rocking the train and making it more fun for them.

Has explored the whole island as a ghost and wished she could be a standard gauge engine.

Can only speak to Skarloey directly.

Every year on the date of the accident, she's forced to relive her traumatising death by some force of the gods. This has driven her to insanity.

Can't pull the arrow out of her chest but can move it around.

The world looks grey and fuzzy for her except for the river and bridge.

She owned a dog that passed away until it ran away never to be seen again.

When she was alive she had terrible insomnia and now that she’s a ghost, she doesn’t/can't sleep anymore.

Has nightmares whenever she sleeps as a ghost.

Has a very strange laugh.

She hates being alone, she can’t deal with her thoughts so she distracts herself with socialisation.

She doesn’t know how to read or write.

Has always been curious about human s*x and learned what it was when she was young. She’s always heavily craved the touch of humans ever since.

As a ghost, she would possess anyone and use their body for her own s**ual desires. It’s never enough though.

🩶Get to know the pierced engine🩶

Name: Cadogan Jennings Fletcher

Element: Air

Birthday: June 1st 1860

Real Age: 165

Age she plays by: She sticks to her real age with pride

Age and year when she died: 33 on October 23 1893

Zodiac: Gemini

Chinese Horoscope: Monkey

Spirit Animal: Kookaburra

Height: 6'2

Sexuality: Pansexual and Hypersexual

Gender: Demigirl

Pronouns: She/They

Personality Type: ESFP

IQ: 97

Nicknames: Dogan, Cad, Old Silver, Old girl

Allergies: None

Disabilities: She had a bit of a limp when she was alive in both her engine and human form.

Right or Left Handed: Left

Quirks/Habits: Biting Fingers, Twirling her hair, her ghost tail acts like a cat's tail and is never still.

Home Town: Lowca, England

Nationality: British

Siblings: Skarloey is her next of kin and the only one she remembers.

Original Driver: Can’t remember

Original Fireman: Can't remember

Who is the most important person in her life: Skarloey

Person he looks up to the most: Alfred

Best Friend: Darrell

Lover: Darrell

Rival: Godred

If she could have a superpower it would be: Future Vision

If she was a human, what job would she have: Engineer (building engines)

Biggest Fear: That Skarloey will be hurt

Biggest Flaw: She easily becomes obsessed with those she “cares” about

Favorite Holiday: Halloween

Favorite Animal: Squirrel

Favorite Hobby: Scaring the living

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Food: None

Favortie Drink: Water

Least Favorite Food: None

Favorite Season: Summer

Favorite Movie: None

Favorite Book: None

Favorite Singer/Artist: None

Very skilled at: Possessing the living

Least skilled at: Talking with the living

Greatest Achievement: She got revenge on her controller who sent her for scrap and drove him to insanity so he killed himself

Pet Peeves: People who don’t take her seriously

Introvert or Extrovert: Extrovert

Organized or Messy: Messy

Is she good at singing: No

Can she bake: No

Can she cook: For some reason she's good at cooking small animals like rodents, squirrels, birds, ect.

Does she play any sports: No

Instrument: Violin

Motto: Stop following the rules, you'll die anyway

🩶Theme Songs🩶

Bury a Friend - Billie Eilish

Pacify Her - Melanie Martinez

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

https://www.tumblr.com/haveyouseenthisskeleton/752192652944048128/so-brought-skeleton-to-a-pride-parade?source=share

Can we please have this with the UT cast?

Sans and Papyrus are on the original ask!

Undertale Toriel - She's not too sure how she ended there, but now she is kinda stuck in the middle of the crowd so she guesses she's a part of it now? She's more concerned about all these young people walking in the street topless. Don't you know it's still cold outside? You're all going to be sick! What if it rains? She learns a lot of things about nonbinary people though and keeps taking notes to report to Frisk as soon as she gets home :')

Undertale Asgore - He just had a bunch of rainbow flowers in front of his shop and somehow now his shop is invaded by young people who kept congratulating him for some reason and he has no flowers anymore after an hour. He's a bit in shock and confused, but, eh, at least his business is working! He's still not sure what happened though.

Undertale Undyne - She's having fun, both proudly representing lesbians and scaring the shit out of any queerphobe guy too close to her. She has Alphys on her shoulders the whole time and even takes breaks to get out of the crowd when her lizard wife is too overwhelmed.

Undertale Alphys - So many people... She's holding for dear life to Undyne, but slowly relaxes as the day goes on, as Undyne makes sure to let her breathe from time to time when she's too overwhelmed. Eventually, Alphys even starts talking to some people and finds another lesbian scientist and they end the day talking excitingly about nerd things while their girlfriends sympathize.

Undertale Frisk - They're both here to represent genderless people and queer monsters! Frisk has to do a lot of speeches during the day. They're the one everyone sends when journalists ask too many questions as Frisk is trained to answer most of them. Frisk is excited they can help their way and make things move because they're a little bit of a celebrity now.

Undertale Chara - They're following Frisk around, being the second prince(ss) of Monsterkind but Chara refuses all interactions with other humans. They clearly stated they're here to support monsters during pride month, not the others. They're hissing at every journalist or giving death glare, letting Frisk handle everything.

Undertale Mettaton - He's an official guest of the pride and he's performing all day to support his fellow queer people. He's having fun, everyone is calling him a trans icon and he could never get bored of all the attention.

Undertale Gaster - What... What's going on? He wanted to go to the grocery stores. And now he's in the middle of a crowd. With his groceries. And people are drawing random flags on his bones? And somehow he's too confused to say no? Gaster is completely lost. Can he go home now?

Undertale Grillby - He's making sure everyone stays hydrated and well-fed. He cooked a lot for the pride and he has his own Grillby's float where everyone can come and buy food during the walk. He's also watching his niece, walking with the lesbians like 10 meters in front of him. He's multitasking!

Undertale Muffet - She's mad because Grillby has a float and hers got refused. So she's selling her pastries at the foot of Grillby's float, trying to steal his clients lol. Sure, all that she sells technically goes to the same association Grillby's sales are going, but still! She will sell more than him! Her ego can't take it!

Undertale Burgerpants - He's hiding from Mettaton in Grillby's float, making himself busy by helping the fireman because he can't stand the idea of staying an entire day next to Mettaton. It's not that bad though. He keeps flirting with gay people so he's having fun! At least until he flirted too much with a guy already married and got chased by the husband across the entire parade.

Undertale Flowey - Well he can't really participate since, you know, he has no legs. So he's insulting homophobes from the window. He even throws himself from the balcony after he saw someone insult Chara and then he bit their ankles like an enraged chihuahua.

Undertale Gerson - He's only there to show all these stupid Karen that old boomers understand what being queer means and that they have no excuse to be queerphobic. He painted his shell with flags so he's visible from far away!

[flightless-magpie]

GOD BLESS U- hi!! I was looking for someone to make or take requests for Transformers Beast Wars for a while now, and I want to know if you can make a rattrap x Reader? It's fine if u use any term to refer to the reader (y/n, Reader, ___, etc) although I wanted to know if you can use feminine pronouns for them. (although if not, no problem!!)

It can be Headcanons or a one-shot, there you can choose freely and use your imagination since anything is fine ^^

(Oh, and welcome to Tumblr! It's a pretty cool place, I hope you have a good time here (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ )

Wow, I was not expecting to get a request that fast! I thought it would take days lol.

I would be happy to make a one-shot/headcanon for you!

Thank you so much for asking for beast wars, it is not appreciated nearly as much as it should be.

pre-established relationship

Rattrap x Maximal Reader

Transforming into (Animal mode), ____ was quick to make her way towards the nearby mountains. Cheetor and Rattrap had somehow managed to cause a rock slide while patrolling for predicons, and per usual Optimus had sent ____ to retrieve them.

"Arrived at mountains, Optimus. Geez this place is a mess." ____ spoke into her comm as she gazed up at the mountain she stood under. Dust covered the area, and small rocks were still bouncing down the cliffs.

"Affermative ____, do try to bring them back in one piece." The comm buzzed with slight static, likely due to the distance between herself and the Axalon (that is what the ship is called right?).

"No promises." ____ said to herself as her optics gazed over each fallen rock pile, each messy cliff side, everything she could see. She only relaxed a bit at the sight of a hand popping out of a pile of rocks near her.

____ made her way over, working to move the rocks off of whoever was stuck underneath. Each moved rock revealed a little more of the grimey brown form underneath. Rattrap. Great.

____ rolled her eyes at the rattled expression on his face, he was clearly dazed and likely would be for a while. Now to find Cheetor.

"Hey-uhhh- toots... never thought rocks could be so heavy."

"Are you injured, Rattrap?"

"Only my pride. The kid is probably worse off than me." Rattrap grunted out, flicking a pebble off his chassis.

"Do you know where he is?"

Rattrap scratched his head as he thought. "Not really... I mean, I know he was ahead of me. Never slows down, that one."

She heaved the rat out of the rocks and set him to the side so she could continue her search. A brief energon scan showed that Cheetor was in fact under a some rocks ahead of Rattrap. ____ made her was over and got to work moving the rocks, revealing the youngest bot on the team.

"He's in stasis, I'll need to carry him back. Can you walk, Rattrap?" ____ asked while heaving the cheetah bot onto her shoulders in a fireman carry. She looked back to Rattrap and watched with concern as he shakily stood.

"Eh- of course I can. Beast mode!" His systems hesitated a second before following his command and transforming into his animal form.

____ nodded and began walking, making sure to be slow enough for Rattrap to keep up with. She activated her comm to let Optimus know she located their teammates and was heading back to base.

After ____ was done, she turned her attention back to Rattrap.

"So what's the deal with the rockslide?"

Rattrap cringed slightly and hesitated not wanting to say anything, however a glare from ____ was enough to prompt him into spilling his data.

"*sigh* We spotted a pred. Spots over there decided that he would rush off into battle, then before I knew it we were covered in rocks."

____ let out an exasperated sigh. "Why didn't you call in for backup? What if something else happened?"

"Listen, I'm sorry sweetspark alright? It was just that ant bot, I thought we could take him."

"Well you thought wrong." Uncomfortable silence laied heavy on their shoulders. The Axalon came into view. Rhinox and Optimus were waiting at the entrance and began approaching once they saw ____ and Rattrap coming towards them.

Optimus standing tall was quick to take Cheetor off of ____'s shoulders and into the ship for repairs. Rhinox looked down to Rattrap and asked if he needed assistance.

"Eh, I can wait till da boss is done givin the kid repairs."

Rhinox nodded and started walking away with ____ following after, only to be halted by Rattraps hand in hers, pulling her back.

When ____ looked back at him, all she saw was a look of sadness. Guilt shone through his optics as he stared into hers, a desperate plea for her to stay beside him.

"Listen, I- I'm sorry alright? I'll try to be more careful, just... please don't leave."

____ sighed as she looked down at her hand in his, tracing her thumbs over his knuckles as she spoke.

"I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"It wasn't your fault. You probably were worried about not getting blasted and trying to help Cheetor. I shouldn't be upset but I just can't help it. I'm worried about you Rattrap. If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do with myself."

Rattrap and ____ gazed in eachothers optics for a brief moment. If any outsider were to notice, they would see nothing more than the complete and utter love and devotion the two held for eachother.

"Yeah, I guess that's fair. I wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to you either. I'm just glad Inferno left after the rockslide."

____ paused, and looked to the side in thought.

"Say, why would Inferno leave that early? You would think he would want to take you two as some sort of present for his dear old "queen"."

Rattrap paused too, before rubbing his neck cables and dismissing the thought.

"He probably didn't want to get caught in the rocks like we were."

____ gave Rattrap a kiss on his helm. "Yeah, you're probably right..." She attempted to shake away the thoughts. "Anyway, we should take you back into the base. Don't want you collapsing after the sheer exhaustion of your daring mission."

"Oh ha-ha, so funny."

____ laughed and Rattrap chuckled as they made their way into the Axalon hand in hand.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

These Nimona headcanons are dedicated to the people who keep asking me how I come up with them (short answer: I have no fucking clue)

While Ambrosius is the one to keep the house clean Bal is the only reason their schedules are even somewhat put together 

This man has multiple calendars one physical calendar in their living room

A digital one for just him that’s dedicated to things that he knows the duo would be bored by 

And a digital calendar for the trio themselves which is his pride and fucking joy 

His baby a digital miracle and what he genuinely considers to be his magnum opus 

Because Ambrosius and Nimona are the hardest people to organize schedules with

Every conversation with them would go something like this “Hey what are you doing next week” “Oh I’m going to work” “Okay do you know what time you have to head in” *shrugs* “Do you know if you have days off” *shrugs again* “do you even know what days you’re going in” *shrugs one last time*

And then Bal would have to walk away because he was really to commit a crime 

No one knows how he actually got their schedules 

Nimona doesn’t know how Bal scheduled plans for them when he didn’t have their friend's contact info

It scares Ambrosius how Bal’s able to fit is incredibly hectic days in nice neat color coordinated boxes 

The duo doesn’t ask questions and they don’t fuck with the schedule 

They just follow it cause it’s always right 

Which is kind of horrifying 

There is one chore in the house that not even the resident clean freak (my baby golden boy) likes 

And that’s washing the dishes 

Not a singular person in that house will ever do the dishes without complaining even a little bit 

They always take turns and it’s always a lose-lose situation 

Because even though there’s this feeling of “dodged that bullet today” they’re also a little guilty because they know the person doing it hates it just as much 

They bought dish gloves because that slightly helped the problem 

But those things tear like it’s no one’s business which is the fucking worst 

One time Bal walked into the kitchen to see Ambrosius crying over the dishes 

He asked what’s wrong and all he had to say was “glove” 

And Bal knew what he meant because Ambrosius swears that having wet rubber rub up against your skin is almost as bad as touching the bare dishes 

Every time Ambrosius or Bal have to leave for more than a couple of days the other will joke that they're a single father 

Anytime someone checks in on them they’ll say something like “The life of a single parent is hard but fulfilling” 

This basically just translates to them missing their spouse so could someone please bring them back as soon as possible 

Nimona always jokes they’re a child of divorce when the boys make that joke 

The jokes range from “Being a child of divorce is so stressful” to “Good riddance I never liked him anyway” 

Mind you those remarks come after Nimona hung off their legs as they walked out the door 

One time when Bal went on a solo trip Nimona asked Ambrosius to go to the park with him 

He didn’t question it just packed up the car and drove them to the nearest park

And he swears he only took his eyes off Nimona for a minute and when he turned back around he saw a group of sad-looking kids and adults crowding around a kid 

And he instantly knew where he went 

He watched in horror as Nimona pointed up to the sky and said “Dad!” a mom asked with a sad voice “Is your dad a pilot sweety?” to which Nimona responded with “No but Papa says he’s in the sky somewhere which is why he never visits” 

He just scooped her up apologizing while making a run for the car 

A lot of parents were very concerned about why the kingdom’s golden boy just snatched a random child they’d never seen before and will never see again

And they genuinely debate on calling the knights while Ambrosius fireman carries this cackling child away

They do and Ambrosius has to have a very awkward conversation with his old coworkers

[traintrainingmontage]

Oh anything on Rebecca, maybe her interacting with Duncan or Molly cause I’ve seen some interesting character dynamics?

Oooooh, I'd love to write about Rebecca! She's such a sunshine sweetie, and compared to Duncan... yeah, they may both be yellow, but that's where the similarities end!

(Do you have a prompt you'd like to see me do, or want to check out what I've written so far? All of that is here!)

Rebecca couldn't help but hum a cheerful tune, her soul soaring as she trundled down the line accompanied by the warm sunshine and the laughter of the breeze. There was nothing she loved more than running down the line and stretching her wheels, especially on a day like today. Furthermore, she had been scheduled to carry an important goods shipment from Tidmouth all the way over to Crovan's Gate, an assignment that made her flame dance with pride. This would surely help her make a good impression on everyone!

Her good mood was almost immediately dampened, however, as she approached the consist, preparing to back down onto it, and the Comments began.

"Easy, girl, easy... you've got it, easy now..."

The tone of her driver's voice made Rebecca want to scream. She wasn't a dog, for heaven's sake! Besides, if anything, the way they patronized her was rather distracting, making it harder for her to focus. However, the bright yellow tender engine took deep breaths and tuned her crew out, connecting with the gentlest of bumps to the first flatbed in the line.

"Well done, Rebecca!" cheered her fireman. "Seems like our advice is helping!"

"Haha..." Rebecca simply laughed weakly, but she said nothing more; the two of them really were only trying to help, and she couldn't deny that she was prone to clumsiness. Thus, there was no reason to be annoyed.

No... reason... at all.

And so, Rebecca set out for Crovan's Gate, determined not to lose her cheer. After all, it was a lovely day, and the sun was warm, and she had with her quite the important load. Yes! It was a good day!

At these pleasant thoughts, Rebecca's smile became a little more steady, and as she passed Wellsworth, she peeped out a greeting to Edward, who was seemingly preparing to set out for his own work. "Take care, Rebecca!" Edward called out with a smile. "Be careful on your way up Gordon's Hill!"

Once again, Rebecca had to bite back a retort, barely managing to keep her smile intact. She appreciated the advice, and logically, she knew that Edward was just looking out for her. He hadn't meant to tell her what she already knew, certainly! Yet, at the same time, a small spark of annoyance flickered within her; she'd been up Gordon's Hill plenty of times now, and while she had stalled before, she knew the gradient well enough now to ensure that she could approach at the proper speed. He was being kind, because he was Edward and Edward was always kind, but at the same time...

No. Don't dwell. Let it go.

Rebecca took a great breath, and continued along, her focus solely on delivering her train to Crovan's Gate. Nothing else mattered; not her crew condescending to her, not Edward trying to help, and certainly not her own misplaced upset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rebecca pulled into Crovan's Gate with little fuss, taking the train of goods over to the yard. Looking around, she was secretly pleased to see that nobody else was around; finally, she could—

"Oh, if it isn't li'l miss sunshine 'erself!"

Curses. Of course it was Duncan on duty today.

Rebecca had nothing against Duncan, not really. In fact, she didn't have an issue with any of her fellow engines on Sodor. It was simply a matter of Duncan liking to push other engines' levers, and Rebecca was simply not fond of such a thing.

Still, she wasn't about to say any of that aloud, so she put on her favorite smile as she went to greet the other yellow engine. "Hello, Duncan!" she chirped, hoping that the slight strain in her voice wasn't as noticeable as she feared it was, as her crew and the yard workers began unloading her consist and rearranging it into smaller shipments. "How are you doing today?"

"Eh, could be be'er," the smaller engine replied, raising an eyebrow, "but ye look like ye swallowed a rock."

Rebecca felt her jaw clench, her smile becoming a little more strained even as she fought to keep it intact. "Grand. Thank you." Her tone had become somewhat clipped, but hopefully, Duncan would get the hint and leave her be.

Unfortunately, to Rebecca's dismay, her response actually seemed to make him more interested in talking to her. "Look, Rebecca, I'm not th' type t' do th' whole 'politeness' thing. Ah'm a plain'-speakin' engine, so if ye've got somethin' t' say, jus' say it."

"I... no! I can't."

"It'll be fine, Becky. C'mon, now."

At the use of the nickname, Rebecca finally felt her hesitance dissipate, heat rising to her cheeks. Ough, Duncan was just the worst! All of her ire from earlier seemed to compound and bubble up in waves, heat shooting through her as her smile gave way to a deeply annoyed scowl.

"Duncan, you... you... you are the rudest engine I have ever met!"

"..."

"..."

A long pause settled in between them, the narrow-gauge engine's expression rather inscrutable, and the longer the silence dragged on, the more the fire within her receded and retreated, leaving only the ashy taste of dread. "Oh. Oh no. Oh, Duncan, I am so sorry. I—"

"Is... is that it?" Duncan cut in, not sounding upset, or even angry. If anything, he simply sounded... confused.

Rebecca could only stare at the other engine, finding herself at a loss for words. "Um... yes?"

The Light Pacific internally braced herself for the backlash that was sure to follow; would Duncan be angry at her? Would he tell the other members of his railway about all of this? If he did, word was sure to get around; despite its size, Sodor could be awfully small when it came to hearing about others' business.

Duncan's actual reaction, however, was something that she could not have prepared herself for. Instead of being angry or anything that Rebecca had envisioned, Duncan simply laughed.

"HAHAHAHAHA! Ahhh, yer real bad at this. But that's fine. D'ye feel be'er now that ye've lighten'd yer load a li'l?"

A fountain of apologies had sprung to Rebecca's lips, only to dry up at Duncan's words. Surprisingly, her heart did feel a little lighter. Of course, she still felt bad for yelling at him in the first place, but as he didn't really seem to mind, Rebecca supposed that she shouldn't worry about it too much either.

"I... I guess so," she replied hesitantly. "But I wouldn't want to make a habit out of yelling at anyone!"

"Nah, yer not the type," the tank engine grinned. However, his smile soon curved into something more thoughtful as he looked at her, eyes more curious than anything. "But really, though, ye should speak up when ye've got a problem. I know ye ken hold yer own 'gainst th' big engines, but pretendin' t' be happy when y'aren't isn't good fer ya."

"What, are you saying I should be more like you?" Rebecca snorted. "Sorry, but I like having friends."

"Ohhhh," Duncan retorted sarcastically, meeting Rebecca's sass with his own. "Ye like havin' friends, ye say, but ye won't be honest wit' any of 'em, huh?"

The comment caused the tender engine's eyes to fly wide, the easy air from their back-and-forth moments ago having now turned tense. "Wha... what?"

"UGH," Duncan groaned, looking like he was desperately restraining himself from rolling his eyes. "Cannae believe I'll have t' explain... alright, look. Yer so worried 'bout fittin' in an' makin' friends that ye let everyone ride all over ye. Ye dun like sayin' anythin' 'cause ye think they'll be mad and it'll just be soooo terrible. Blah blah blah."

Unfortunately, as much as Rebecca wanted to refute his words, she instead found herself silent, the shameful truth of his comments almost suffocating.

Undeterred, or perhaps uncaring, Duncan continued to press his point. "Ye can't live yer life like that, Rebecca. If someone does wrong by ya, then ye hav'ta tell 'em. 'S th' only way they'll know. Ah've always said that ah'm a plain-speakin' engine, and this's what ah mean: if there's a problem, then ah'll say somethin', n' I expect the same. Makes dealin' wit' problems much easier. 'Sides..."

If he could have, Duncan probably would have shrugged his shoulders, but gave a nonchalant hum instead.

"If ye trust 'em, an' they're really yer friends, then they might be mad for a li'l bit, but they'll listen. N' if they don't listen or stay mad 'cause of whatcha asked, then they're not really yer friends, n' not worth trustin'."

The Light Pacific blinked, surprised at the depth of Duncan's insight. Such a thing felt rather unexpected coming from him, but then again, could she really say that she'd made the effort to get to know or bond with Duncan that well before now? Still, while the little yellow engine's advice was astoundingly sound, there was still something that gave her pause.

"I understand what you're saying, but... what if I'm asking too much?" Rebecca mumbled, and Duncan's expression would have been comical if her question hadn't been so genuine.

"Well, yeah, but that's jus' called bein' reasonable! Sir Handel's not one t' be reasonable! GORDON'S not known fer bein' reasonable! But YOU? Laird help me, yer fine, Rebecca. Really, now. Ah think ye have a good enough smokebox on yer frames t' know what's reasonable n' what's not, so long as ye don't overthink it."

It was then that Duncan's eyes settled on Rebecca's crew, who were finishing up with the delivery. "Oi, you two! Becky's crew!"

At Duncan's call, driver and fireman poked their heads up, surprised. "...What is it?" the driver called back slowly, seemingly hesitant, and Duncan scowled in response, all while Rebecca's panicked eyes dashed between the small engine and her crew, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to do.

"Rebecca has somethin' t' say t' ye!" Duncan shouted, and both driver and fireman exchanged glances, but picked their way over, standing before their now-nervous engine, whose frames had started to shake lightly at the thought of confrontation.

Duncan's eyes flicked up to her face, taking in her anxious aura. "D'ye trust 'em?"

At the question, the two humans looked askance at Duncan, but Rebecca's trembling had slowed as she considered the question. Did she trust her crew? With her operation, certainly, but with her feelings...

...

Yes. She did and she would. In fact, she had to; the idea of not trusting her crew was unthinkable. Thus, the Light Pacific gathered her courage and began to speak.

"Erm... Driver, Fireman, I... I know that you're trying to help me when you guide me back onto my trains. And I appreciate it! But I don't need it. It makes me nervous. And I usually end up tuning you both out. I'm sorry! I know you're trying to help, but that's just not what I need!"

The words tumbled out in a rush, and at some point, Rebecca had closed her eyes, scared to see the looks on her crew's faces. Oh God, what if Duncan had been wrong? What if—

"Heyyyy, hey hey hey," her driver soothed, patting her cheek, and slowly, Rebecca's eyes fluttered open once again, refocusing on her crew. Unlike her worst fears, they both wore calm smiles, with no trace of disappointment or upset to be found. "Thanks for telling us, Rebecca. It must have taken a lot of courage to do that."

"He's right," added her fireman. "If what we're doing isn't helping, then it's better that you tell us so that we don't distract you."

At their words, Rebecca felt air fill her tubes once again, and she almost sagged in relief, feeling that a great weight had been lifted from her frames. "Ah... thank you. Thank you so much."

As Rebecca and her crew discussed some things, the yellow engine was all smiles, clearly less burdened than before. With the ghost of a smile on his face, Duncan quietly pulled away from the heartfelt scene; even though it had gotten him into trouble before, it was moments like this that convinced Duncan there would always be value in plain speaking.

[kharmii]

I've got to write an appreciation post of my new favorite thing. I recently watched Black Clover E.138 'In Zara's Footsteps' which was a Zora Ideale themed episode that made me love him more.

-So it starts out a flashback into Zora's childhood. His now deceased father gets a sprig of white gladiolus from a meek flower seller who gives them away for free because Zara is his hero. He tells his equally meek son that he was partial to the fragrance of those particular flowers.

Fast forward to the present. Zora is lounging seductively in a tree dressed like a dirty whore. He looks somewhat like Zagred and eerily like a zoroark gijinka from pokemon. (HAHAHAHA...don't go there in that fandom, yeesh...)

He says sarcastically, "Yeah.....like I have time for crap like that... I don't need to train with them. I didn't join the Black Bulls to make new friends and play around."

(The teeth look real, and his jaw looks unhinged. There's some not spoken of f-up somewhere in this design)

He goes off on a solo trip to really put his nose to the grindstone. They have to fight wars with demons and sheeit, so he has to really focus on his training. He dons a full-body-covering nondescript robe to cover his tiddies so random creepos with freaky tastes don't flash cash at him again. Zora is actually a sensitive introvert, so he doesn't appreciate that sort of attention. For some odd reason, he decided to put some unnecessary accessory on his robe that looks vaguely like a collar and leash. Whatever dude.....

This comes on the heels of the Gordon themed episode. Gordon is a freaky soft-spoken guy who can't handle being alone. He needs the constant company and emotional support of his friends. Zora, otoh, claims he doesn't need friends. He probably doesn't mean that 100%, but he's the type of person who thrives on solitude and needs a lot of alone time to recharge his social batteries.

Zora stops at his village to visit his dad's grave and leave his favorite flowers. Viewer sees a lot of good shots of his sad tired looking eyes and can tell his flippant and douchey manner of speech is hiding a deep sadness and weariness.

He's surprised to find out someone else already left those same flowers recently, and he talks about how his dad was the pride of their village because he was the first commoner to become a magic knight. Now there are more of them, thanks to Yami, but back then, it was unheard of.

Walking through a forest, he happens on some kid training fairly decent water magic without a grimoire. He says, "This kid's got potential. Well, good luck with that..." and prepares to walk away unseen, but the kid gets accosted by some visiting nobility.

Zora ends up chasing them off with a stink bug, but the kid gets a parting shot at them. Zora admonishes him for going against three guys. The kid's dad shows up and asks him why he looks upset. At no point does he assume the freaky looking guy with sharp teeth and tattered robe might be the cause. Good thing, because he would have been wrong. Zora doesn't scare the children.

The kid rants about how he wishes he had a different family that wasn't poor, and how he wished his dad was more like Zara so he could train to be a magic knight. Zora is perturbed, but the dad says he's right and starts denigrating their family for the hard times they were going through.

Zora wordlessly picks the child up and hauls him off in a fireman's carry while the dad is in no way panicked. Zora must have that sort of presence. He dumps the kid in front of his dad's grave and tells him to call him, "Awesome Mask Guy" and he will call him "Snot-nosed Shrimp". He talks about how his dad never complained about anything and never had a harsh word to say about anybody. The kid expresses resentment that he is aiming too high.

The sentiment brings back a memory of when more normal looking Child Zora told his dad he was aiming too high because commoners couldn't become Magic Knights. His dad kept trying over and over and failing. The dad replied that he may have failed the Magic Knights exam more times than he can remember, but he didn't think he set his sights on something unachievable. He only tells him he will join the magic knights someday because he honestly believes it will happen one day. -And it eventually did happen.

-So he tells the kid that if he told the other kids who accosted him that he would be a magic knight someday with a straight face, then he must believe he can do it. If that was the case, then he wasn't aiming too high. He said his dad used to talk like that too.

Zora shows the kid the doll his dad gave him, and the kid starts ripping on him asking if the doll is supposed to be him? Zora replies that the doll is Zora the Supermage the Mysterious Herald of Justice. He may talk a lot of smack but he's a good man. He fights evil from the shadows. The kid keeps ripping on him and saying he's not a toddler. He says it's a lame back story and asks him if he's srsly into dolls? He asks him how old he is?

Zora gets all dreamy and tells the kid that (doll) Zora was the son of a peasant, just like him, but he wasn't impressed by nobles or royalty because deep down he knew there was something he could do that they couldn't. Kid was intrigued wondering what Zora would have that rich people didn't have. Zora replied he wondered what that could be? If the kid wanted to be a magic knight someday, he'd better figure it out.

Zora is asleep in a tree late afternoon, presumably after a day of really getting some hard core training in. Since his magic deals with complex traps, he probably has to sit around doing deep thinking 90% of the time, and only 10% of the time is execution.

The kid is out practicing magic nearby when the visiting nobles attack him, this time armed with a powerful magic item. Luckily, Zora was able to step in to assist with his Uno Reverse Card Trap before the kid is incinerated. He sends the fire back, but only in a harmless way that gives the kids a scare. They drop the magic item, and the kid picks it up.

Kid comes back with his dad who accuses them of stealing the magic item. They attack with fire power, but the other dad surprises them with strong water magic. The accuser threatens to call the magic knights. That's when Zora shows up in his usual costume of tiddies out and pants cut so low one can practically see the top of his junk.

Zora talks about how he witnessed the whole thing earlier, and the son was the one who stole the magic item looking for a fight. He tells the guy he's a shitty father and doesn't deserve the magic item. The two guys run off humiliated, probably because they thought they were showed up not only by a commoner, but a commoner who is also a male prostitute who services clients with a magic knight fetish.

The kid and dad relate how they took the magic knights exam several times and failed, but they knew that their hero Zara also tried and failed several times. That inspired them to not give up. The kid seems to come to the realization who Zora really is, even though he doesn't say it out loud. He says he believes he knows what Zora the Supermage has that the nobility doesn't, and he also doesn't say out loud what it is. Then he apologizes to his dad for saying bad things about their family.

As Zora leaves, the kid thanks him and says he must really be Zora the Supermage. Zora replies that he's just trying to be a good mage, and then he encourages him to keep trying and leaves with a stink bug prank with the worst hrrderking look on his face.

On the way out, Zora says something interesting. He thinks about Yuno and Asta and how they always make the assertion they are going to become the next Wizard King. He says out loud, "The only reason those two can say that all the time is because they truly believe they can do it. You just wait and see, Dad. I'll make it to that zero stage everybody's been talking about lately, and I'll start by whipping my sorry squad mates into shape."

I was like, "AHAHAHAHA!!!! You'd better deliver, Mr. Background Character!"

Level zero is like Wizard King level ability in that world, -like Julius Novachrono who can control time is probably that level- although I don't think Zora is the type who'd want to be the actual Wizard King. He has the attitude like being a magic knight is more than the costume and recognition. Maybe he'd want to be the first commoner who'd reach that level of ability? Add to that, but Zora is probably the weakest in the squad, like Julian said when he encountered Zara, his magic wasn't that strong, but he was able to execute it in complicated and well-thought-out ways. Zora probably takes after his dad in that way. He's not a 'push past your limits' type of guy like Asta. He's careful. He has to think things through and only act if he feels like he's 100% going to succeed.

[oldtrain]

'Argentina', The Pride of her Nation

So while looking around on a Reddit post, trying to look for information on why the JNR streamlined some of their C53s, I came across this bizarre feat of engineering.

This is 'Argentina', formerly known as 'President Perón'. A streamlined rebuild of ex Central Córdoba class B22 4-6-2 No.2011, and when I say rebuild, I mean they completely rebuilt the engine from a 4-6-2 Pacific into a 4-8-0 4 cylinder compound.

For context, this is the engine they had before:

And this is after they completed the rebuild and sent it to be exhibited in Buenos Aires around 1949:

Essentially, everything was rebuilt. The boiler was raised and elongated, the chimney shortened to match with the streamlining, the tender was enlarged and two extra cylinders were added for high pressure steam to be utilised (which is what makes it a 4 cylinder compound).

After tests were conducted, it was found that, yeah, they made the engine vastly better than what it once was. "President Peron", as it was known at the time, was said to have 1581 drawbar kW (2100 dbhp) and a power to weight ratio 23.2 kN/metric ton (31 dbhp/ton), which made it on-par with the best in the world at the time, the SNCF 4-8-0 240P class.

The engine's fuel consumption, despite being much bigger and more powerful, was also improved as the firebox had been completely overhauled, using on average 0.3 kg of coal/MJ of energy at a thermal efficiency of 11.9%, a world record for the time! It was also estimated that this thermal efficiency rating is lower than what it truly would've been at peak operation.

Many of the drivers and firemen of 'Argentina' have gone on record to say that it really is an amazing machine to drive. At one point, the railway authorities had heated arguments with the locomotive's creator, Livio Dante Porta, stating that the engine was being overloaded during service runs and couldn't cope with the loads it was handling. So, like any mad engineer at the time, he decided to prove them wrong by overloading the engine past it's weight limit. The engine coped remarkably well, even at one point coming to a gradient that even the fireman remarked would be "impossible to climb". Despite this, 'Argentina' powered up the gradient with ease despite still being overloaded, apparently leaving an inspector on board "red in the face"!

Despite being a streamlined engine, 'Argentina' would only run goods trains up the south west of Buenos Aires until the early 1960s, as by 1961, she would be taken out of service and left in La Plata depot after running over 70000km.

She would remain there until the mid 1970s, where she was then taken out of La Plata to various workshops for safe storage with plans to take her to a proposed transport museum, which would eventually happen in 1996 after a cultural initiative turned FCGP Norte railway station into a transport museum. She would be repainted grey and put on display with various passenger coaches there until 2004, as the Argentine economy got hit with a massive crash in 2001.

Plans before this economic disaster included Porta to get 'Argentina' back into working order, but those plans were quickly scrapped as finances quickly dwindled. She was moved to a shed near the museum, which by this time had closed, to be kept in storage in case any plans arose in the future, though chances of that happening are slim as many of her parts were stolen as the area she resided became abandoned.

Left under a shed with no roof, behind a carriage that also got stripped for parts, she sits waiting for something to happen. There may be one day when she goes back into service, but her future is still unknown.

[duskstargazer]

[1969]

Sir Topham Hatt had recently come into ownership of a new engine. The general opinion on said new engine was nearly unanimous -- and it wasn’t a positive one.

Henry grunted sleepily as the warmth spread through his boiler. He enjoyed having Vicarstown Shed to himself for once. He cracked open an eye, then was fully awake in an instant. Surrounding him, on all sides, were rows upon rows of tankers, all filled with water.

“For god’s sake!!” He roared.

“Okay,” Percy chuffed, “now that’s just silly. I deliver the post - letters, parcels, that sort of thing. My trucks don’t carry weed - that’s what grows between the ballast on unkempt track! My driver told me!”

Percy’s driver scratched his head, and began to explain. The fireman made wild shushing motions, which the driver - rather fortunately - took heed of.

“Aah, finally. Time for a versatile engine like myself to--”

James froze. His spot in the shed was covered from rails to ceiling in bright blue paint. It dripped from the ceiling, coated the walls, and even ran down the window on the one side.

The red engine made a scream not unlike the sound of locked wheels skating on solid rails, and hurtled backwards, quickly deciding to sleep somewhere else - and nearly mowing Edward down in the process.

Gordon stared in baffled fury. His express coaches - his pride and joy - had been defiled. No longer did they bear the iconic red and white; they stood coated in the livery of the railway he despised the most.

“Who… in the name of Sir Nigel Gresley did this?!” He seethed.

[sparkarrestor]

Henry The Green Engine 2: Whistles & Sneezes

Written By: Rev. W. Awdry

Adapted By: SparkArrester

Gordon was cross one night at the sheds.

“I’ve pulled expresses for years!” He said, “But do I get anything for it? No! But Henry here makes us cover for his work until he gets his special coal, and now he can’t stop saying how happy he is!”

“Not to mention I was the one that actually fetched it…” Muttered James.

“Coal good enough for me is good enough for him!” Continued Gordon, “ And another thing too, Henry whistles far too much! No respectable engine whistles loudly at stations. It isn’t wrong, but we just don’t do it.”

Henry wasn’t feeling very happy anymore, and looked towards his buffers.

“Nevermind them.” Whispered Percy, “I like your whistling! Don’t let those two oafs get you down!”

That made Henry feel a little better.

The next day, Henry was being steamed up. He felt great, and whistled without really meaning too. Nobody minded except Gordon.

“Remember what I said about whistling!” He called as he left for the station.

Later on, Henry took a passenger train, and presently stopped at Edward’s station.

“Hullo Henry!” Said Edward, “You’re here early.”

“I thought a faster run would help me get in better spirits.” Replied Henry, and he told Edward what Gordon had said.

“Pay no mind to him.” Sniffed Edward, “He’s just jealous. I think it’s great that you’re feeling better, and the rest of us enjoy your happy whistling.”

“Oh, thank you Edward!” Smiled Henry.

On the contrary, Gordon wasn’t smiling. He was still grumbling about Henry as he rocketed down the line.

“I could be going faster than ever!” He snorted, “But that special coal is just for Henry and no one else, not even the pride of the line. Pah!”

And he picked up speed as he rounded a bend and approached a bridge. Some boys were stood on it. Gordon and his crew didn’t take much notice until…

“Oof!” cried Gordon as stones cascaded on his boiler. He whistled in fury and was just about to yell when he found out he couldn’t stop whistling. The stones had damaged something, and he was stuck whistling fit to burst. He was purple in the boiler as he sped down the hill at a tremendous speed. He paid no mind to Edward or Henry as he passed by the station and disappeared into the Horizon.

“...It isn’t wrong…” said Henry quietly, “But we just don’t do it.”

Meanwhile, Gordon screeched along the line, causing mayhem at every turn. People ran out of their houses thinking it was an air raid, 5 fire brigades got ready to go out, and old ladies dropped their parcels. At the big station the noise was awful. Passengers ran for cover as the Fat Controller came up. He barked orders but no one could hear him until he was right in their face.

“Take him away!” He bellowed at last, “And stop that noise!”

Gordon slunk away sadly. He whistled across the points, he whistled in the yard, and he was still whistling when a pair of fitters came to mend him. Gordon winced at the large hammer one was holding. They climbed on top of his boiler, and hammered his whistle valve until it was back in place. There was silence.

“They’ll never let me hear the end of this…” muttered Gordon.

“Speak up, I can’t hear you!” said his driver, who could only hear ringing.

Back on the mainline, Henry was in high spirits.

“Silly old Gordon, whistling loudly. And at a station, no less!” He chuckled as he approached a bridge. The boys were still there, and Henry spotted them.

“Trainspotters, how lovely. They might take down my number!” Thought Henry.

“Peep! Peep! Hullo!” He called, “Peep! Pe-Woosh!”

The boys dropped more stones on him. They bounced off his boiler, hit the fireman on his head, and even hit the carriages.

“What a shame! What a shame!” Hissed Henry, “Fresh paint, too!’

“They’ve broken our glass! They’ve broken our glass!” sobbed the coaches.

They stopped the train to check over Henry and see if any passengers were hurt. The Driver got out the first-aid box and began to bandage the fireman’s head while he and Henry discussed a plan. None of the passengers were hurt, but they were all angry. They told the fireman what he could for his head and looked at Henry’s paint.

“Call the police!” They all shouted.

“Don’t worry about that!” Said the Driver, “Me and Henry can pay them out!”

“How?”

“This new coal burns great, but leaves extra ash in my smokebox” Said Henry, “If enough gets built up, it’ll block my tubes.”

“Henry’s fire draws in air and puffs it out through his tubes with smoke and steam, then up and out his chimney. If we puff hard enough with all those ashes blocking the tubes then…”

The driver trailed off. One of the passengers spoke up.

“So… you’ll sneeze on them?”

Henry and his driver just smiled.

Henry started the train again and reached the terminus. He had to work extra hard to make up for lost time. He rested, and then took the train back. The fireman shoveled lots of coal and Henry worked harder. A group of people were waiting at the station before the bridge. They wanted to see how this would go.

“Henry has lots of ashes!”, announced the Driver, “Please keep all windows shut until the next station, please!”

He turned to Henry.

‘You ready, old boy?”

Henry was too stuffed up to reply, but he gave a wink, like this.

The guard blew his whistle, and Henry started off. They soon came up to the bridge, and there were the silly boys, stones in hand.

“Ready…” whispered the Driver, “Ready… Ready… Now!”

“Atisha, Atisha, Achoooooooooo!!!!”

Smoke and steam and ashes spewed from his funnel. They went all over the bridge, and all over the boys. They ran away, as black as tar.

“Well done Henry!”, Laughed his Driver, “Those boys won’t be causing trouble again!”

“I imagine so!” puffed Henry, “But my paint…”

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll clean you off and touch you up tonight, then you’ll be good as new!”

Henry no longer sneezes under bridges. The Fat Controller gave him a half-hearted earful about it.  His smokebox is always cleaned out at the yard. Now, he’s gone under more bridges than he can count, and there are never any silly boys with stones.

[edwards-exploit]

Back in Bournemouth West

November 1947. Maunsell’s finest meets Bulleid’s newest.

A little oc fic for @konnosaurus. Consider this a late birthday gift!

---

The wind brought November’s biting chill, and 926 was only protected from it by the warmth of his firebox- thank goodness for that. He really can’t comprehend how humans go without it in this weather. Still, 926 thought, as he felt his fireman tended to his fire, people and rolling stock must work for the good of the railway, after all.

Bournemouth West was bustling as usual- yes, up trains going to Bournemouth Central, and he whistled goodbye to a departing sibling of his; Midland engines coming in through the SDJR, surely there for their little hotel; shunters in the yards marshaling coaches and parcel vans; and passengers boarding and departing from their trains. Steam hissed from all the platforms as engines came and went, and 926 let himself be immersed in the music of his railway’s workings- if only to distract himself from the boredom building up in his boiler, as he awaits for his departing train- at the very least, the mousy little shunter has already took his coaches.

A bit of pride was swelling up as well, as 926 observed the proceedings. All of these engines coming together like well oiled gears in a machine, running the railway like clockwork. It’s something beautiful to him, and 926 will gladly say that he’s part of the finest railway in all of Britain.

Which is the thought of most engines, really, who work up and down their lines- pulling trains, shunting coaches, banking… No matter who they are, they believe that their railway is the best, but 926 hasn’t seen any evidence of that hogwash. No, he only sees what was in front of him, and what was in front of him was the Southern Railway’s rails that have been very carefully maintained.

WHOOOT-WHOOOOOOOOOOT!

A truly frame shaking whistle trumpeted throughout the station, which 926 has learned to recognise as one of Bulleid’s engines, after six years of existing alongside them. Those engines can’t help but make an impression wherever they go, 926 thinks, and with good reason!

Air-smoothed (not streamlined! There’s a difference, you see, and 926 made that mistake, once. Never again,) and powerful, 926 couldn’t believe his awestruck eyes when the Merchant Navies first rocketed down the tracks, pulling loads that he would have struggled to pull with ease. They came at the right time- the war was difficult for all of them, as they were in the front lines- 926 still shuddered at the sound of planes overhead. But the Merchant Navies rose to the occasion, and he wasn’t surprised that it was announced that the Bournemouth Belle was to be handed over to them from the Lord Nelsons.

If the Southern Railway was the finest railway in the world, they were the finest engines of the railway. Still, he glanced at the next platform over, at the very least to identify which one is arriving- was it 21C1, or another of her twenty strong siblings?

Steam billowed through the station, as the Bournemouth Belle arrived at a sharp 2:52- right to time, as expected, and 926 sized the engine up. It was not, in fact, a Merchant Navy at all- his buffers read 21C167, signaling that he was part of the Merchant Navy’s younger siblings- the West Country? The Battle of Britain? Well, in any case, they were smaller in size, but larger in number- and 926 considers them on the same tier as the Merchant Navies, as they’ve been dedicated workers the moment their doyen ran under their own power.

21C167 came to a smooth stop, grinning to himself as the passengers left the coaches, and 926 idly wondered if the engine couldn’t be older than a few weeks old- certainly, most young engines had that grin on their faces when pulling their first few trains.

926 was prepared for a lot of things, but he was not prepared for 21C167 suddenly glancing up at him, and eyeing him wonderingly. “Hullo,” said 21C167, still with that annoyingly charming grin, “Are you going to talk to me, or are you just going to sit there with your mouth open?”

Regrettably, 926’s mouth worked faster than his brain, “Don’t they teach you manners, back in Brighton?” He says dryly- and to his surprise, 21C167 only snickered, but he still felt the need to apologise, “I’m sorry, that was beneath me. I’m 926, of the Schools class. You must be 21C167.”

“Tangmere.”

“Pardon?”

21C167- er, Tangmere donned a slightly annoyed scowl as his eyes flicked to his side- a polished nameplate was stuck proudly there, “I’ve a name! The men gave it to me, and I quite like it! ‘Sides, I see you have a name too, er…” The young engine trailed off, squinting at 926’s own nameplate.

926 sighed magnanimously, and figured, for a fact, that this engine mustn't be very old at all. “Must I teach you your letters, Tangmere?” He asked, and a little part of him enjoyed Tangmere’s scowl deepening- but he quickly relented to his senses and sighed. He shouldn’t treat a fellow engine like that, “It’s Repton.”

“I know,” Muttered Tangmere sheepishly, “It just took me a minute. Can’t see too well, this up close. You know how it is. ‘S a little… blurry.” He defends. In fact, 926 doesn’t quite know, but it’s improper to point it out, so he let it slide.

“Hmph. Well. Is this your first outing to Bournemouth?” 926 asked, steering the topic to more proper pastures- it is not unusual for engines to talk idly at stations, after all, and he knew the Bournemouth Belle’s departing train wouldn’t leave for another hour or two. “I’ve not seen you here before.”

Tangmere smiled, pride still dancing on his features, “It is! I’m pulling the Bournemouth Belle. I’m usually based at Ramsgate- ’s real far from here. But it’s not my first express, believe me.” He sounded like he’s mustering all his humility to say his words.

Annoyingly charming is really the only phrase to describe the scene. “I believe you,” He conceded mildly, “Your lot is seen pulling all sorts of trains, I hear- no offense.” He quickly adds- despite the Bulleid Pacifics being proper express engines, the title is… unofficial, according to the board. They’re mixed traffic, and while 926 does not scoff at goods trains, he’s aware that goods engines… they’re not as respected, you see.

But to his relief, Tangmere brightened up instead, “That’s right! I got to pull my first goods train the other day! The trucks gave me no trouble at all, no sir!” He reported.

Something about that sentence…. Well, it gave 926 pause. “Your first goods train… You must be very new, then, for your first.” He notes, and Tangmere shifts on his axles, a bit shyly.

“Well, I just went to service in September,” He confessed, all the while smiling ruefully, and 926’s eyebrows raised a little. He did figure that Tangmere’s young, but just two months! “But I’m very capable, really!” There was a defensiveness in Tangmere’s voice, and 926 decided to soothe Tangmere’s worries. It would be cruel otherwise.

“I know. The Bournemouth Belle, it’s the heaviest train on the route. You must’ve handled it with ease, seeing that you’ve still got steam left.” He says, with real awe in his voice- the Lord Nelsons were always a little red faced, when they pulled to the station, but Tangmere was looking like he was running light engine!

Tangmere visibly relaxed to 926’s relief, “Thanks, Repton,” and 926 blinked in surprise, yet Tangmere continued, “When I was in Waterloo, Channel Packet warned me about the load, and I was rather worried, but I managed! It’s like my other trains, really.” He earnestly says, “But ‘s not as nice as boat trains. Do you like boat trains?”

The question threw 926 off a little, who was mainly expecting to be a listener to this conversation, not an equal, still, it would be unbecoming of him if he didn’t answer. And besides, Tangmere’s got a refreshing frankness about him that made 926 want to answer, “I like all my trains,” He claims and he liked to think he was doing it humbly, “The Southern Railway needs all of their services running well, after all.”

And it’s true- delays and accidents are the enemy of railways, and 926’s proud to say that he’s got a clean record, and even prouder to say that he’s never shirked work. “You shouldn’t play favourites,” He advised a wide eyed Tangmere, “You should work hard on all your trains.”

“But I do!” Exclaimed Tangmere, and 926 thought he was being a little dramatic, “I just like seeing the docks, when I pull boat trains. ‘S why I like passing by Southampton, really. And the boats are nice, too! I just look forward to pulling boat trains, that's all.” His words were tumbling out of his mouth, and 926’s still not quite sure how he still had steam.

“I see,” 926 really didn’t but he once again, generously, let it slide, “... In that case, I look forward to pulling the Royal Train.” He admits, and Tangmere smiles.

“See! You like Royal Trains, I like boat trains. We both like our trains,” Tangmere sounds like he’s making a reasonable sentence, despite sounding so… simplistic. “It’s as easy as that.”

926 smiled wryly. “In that case, tell me about your first boat train.” He challenged, and he quite liked the way Tangmere’s face brightened, despite himself.

“Oh, ‘s nothing special, really, but-!”

“Excuse me, 926?” A voice behind him interrupted, and 926 looked back- and he can’t help but feel annoyed, when he sees his new coaches being shunted to him by an Adams B4. “Your train is ready.”

“I see. Well, another time, then.” 926 graciously said, but paused in surprise when Tangmere looked down, a disappointment evident in his face, “Oh, chin up, Tangmere. We’ll see each other again yet. You did splendidly on this run, after all.”

And Tangmere’s eyes widened, and he grinned shyly, “You really think so?”

For the first time in the conversation, 926 smiled back. “I do.” He sincerely says, readying himself as he eyed his guard about to blow his whistle, “Well, I suppose I should get ready for my guard. I hope I’ve been good to you, Tangmere. Be a good engine, now, and wait for your next train.”

Tangmere’s shy smile became more lively, and he laughed, “Oh, there’s not much else I can do! G’bye, Repton!” He whistled, and 926’s guard whistled too. With his own whistle goodbye, 926 chuffed off with his up train back to London, thinking about the young express engine.

[a-simply-simping-simp]

God telling you to surrender isn't selfish or prideful, it's selfless and merciful. If you were in a burning 8 story building, the only way out was the window, and a fireman came to save you, would you struggle as they help you get out? Would you squirm around and kick and flail? Personally, I'd surrender myself to them because I know they want me to live and I know they know how to save me. You can't get out on your own and they know that. They went in to save you, not so they could bring out some popcorn and watch you "save" yourself. So let God help you.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 14-Paint it Black

Day 14-Screech

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Screech hummed contentedly on the docks, simmering quietly in the afternoon sun. Mali was laid on her runningboard, also enjoying the sun. Pest was sprawled on a crate beside them, the skyrat having stolen someone's chips earlier.

Screech had almost dozed off when she heard the familiar puffing of a Star class approaching.

Abbey backed down into the adjacent siding, her freshly cleaned paintwork gleaming in the sunlight.

“You three seem to be enjoying the heat at least.” She said with amusement.

The seagull let out a self-contented sigh in response.

Freda snorted from Screech’s cab, “Pest snagged someone's chips and Mali’s still trying to get a tan.”

“You can't blame a girl for trying.” Mali grumbled.

“You weren't particularly good at tanning before Screech.” Megan said as she climbed down from Abbey's cab.

Mali sighed.

Megan ducked as Screech stretched out her tendrils to lay over Abbey, then climbed up to sit next to Mali.

“Have you decided what livery you will be painted in?” Abbey asked Screech.

Screech rumbled irritably, “Great Western Black.”

Abbey raised an eyebrow at the tone, and choice.

Gywn sighed,“the young lass won't budge.” He explained. ‘no matter how many times we tell her she can be any color, she just wants plain black.”

Screech cracked open an eye to glare irritably at her fireman, “You keep saying I can choose my livery, then refuse to accept my choice.”

Freda patted Screech's cabside, “We just want to be sure you are happy with your paint, as you will be wearing it for a while. We may be stable now, but we can't afford to repaint engines regularly.”

“Then why am I being repainted?” Screech rumbled, frustrated. “Why not an engine that actually wants a repaint.”

“Because you need one,” Gywn said.

“My paint is fine.”

Abbey raised an eyebrow, “when was the last time you were repainted?”

Screech thought for a moment then shrugged, “Fifty-seven, we were painted in Lined Express Passenger Green.”

“And you don't want that back?” Mali asked. “Wasn't that supposed to be a prestigious livery?”

“I am not a passenger engine,” Screech said firmly, “I have no desire to pretend to be so.”

Gywn sighed,“The work’s crews don't want to paint you black because they think painting you black would make us look like the Other Railway.”

Screech paused, her tendrils stilling, “Pardon?”

Freda explained, “We take pride that all our engines are painted the colour of their choosing, rather than all our engines besides express locomotives being painted black.”

“I like being painted black.” Screech said.

Freda frowned, “we’ll figure it out dear, they just want your livery to reflect our care for you.”

Screech stretched and closed her eyes, “My paint will be dirty soon enough either way.”

Freda sighed fondly.

A/N: Hello loves! This takes place shortly after Something Holy This Ways Comes, before the next (as of yet unnamed) installment. Love Y'all!