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avocado-writing · 10 months ago

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if you’re open to writing for karlach, maybe something where she and tav come up with creative ways to be close without tav being burned? or just go nuts and crawl over to shadowheart for healing lol

notes: karlach is so fucking hot (literal and sexual) i am insane over her. i'd love to write for her more

rating: E

pairing: karlach x gn!reader (background shadowheart x lae'zel)

You met Karlach about a month ago, and you’ve never wanted a woman more in your life.

Every part of her is perfection. Her toned stomach; her gorgeous eyes, her wild hair. You want to touch her so badly. Want to run your hand up the plain of her back and feel her shoulders shift under you when she wraps you in her embrace. Want to feel the crush of her lips against yours, the soft wetness when you press between her legs.

But she is on fucking fire, so there lies the issue.

You know she feels the same. When the rest of the camp is asleep you steal into her tent, the two of you whispering the filthy things you want to do to each other while pleasuring yourselves because you can’t physically fucking touch. It’s maddening. You want to be able to actually do them, not just promise that you will.

You’ve seen her fingers disappear into her cunt as she moans your name, you’ve come against your palm while telling her how badly you want to taste her.

Gods. you are going to lose your mind over this tiefling.

Stripped off and with a fresh outfit slung over your shoulder, you stomp down to the pond just outside of camp in order to wash up that morning. Your mind is on other matters - tadpoles, mostly, and how on earth you’re going to save yourselves - but you are totally snapped out of your brooding when you see you’re actually not alone.

“Soldier. Didn’t think you’d be awake for another couple of hours yet, the way you tired yourself out last night,” says Karlach cheekily, grinning up from the water. She’s chest-deep, infernal engine running so hot that steam is churning up around her, leaving a clinging mist all over her shoulders and face. She dunks her head under to wet her hair and makes a beautiful arc as she resurfaces, shiny and dripping.

You stare. Your mouth has gone completely fucking dry. Your head has emptied of all thoughts save for two words: wet Karlach wet Karlach wet Karlach–

She raises an eyebrow. “Babe?”

You drop your clothes.

“Fuck it,” you say, and dive into the pond.

Her lips burn with a kiss long since needed, the pain being bearable for the pleasure of knowing her. Her cunt is almost excruciating to run your fingers across and yet you find yourself gritting your teeth and pressing your tongue inside, the magma of her orgasm deliciously burning your face. It’s so worth it. It’s so, so worth it for knowing you can make her come, and what your name sounds like from her lips when you’re the one bringing her there. She lets you fuck her thigh like a dog in heat and it feels like your sex is aflame.

You have zero regrets, lying in the muddy pond bank, naked body covered in burns. You hear Karlach reapproaching with someone in tow, chattering nervously.

“Yeah, aha, we just er… got carried away. Sorry. I really do appreciate you helping us out, though!”

Shadowheart peers down at you, her mouth a tight line of disapproval.

“Lady of Sorrows preserve us, look at the state of you,” she sighs. Despite the rawness of your injuries you manage a grin.

“Come on, don’t act as if this is the first time you’ll have used Cure Wounds after sex. I’ve heard the noises you and Lae’zel make.”

Her face goes a bright enough red to match the tiefling next to her, and Karlach throws her head back in uproarious laughter.

Every moment of pain is worth it, for her.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling

#karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #karlach imagine #bg3 x reader #bg3 fix #request

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stories-of-the-nrm · 18 days ago

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Save The Memphis Trolleys

Please sign, reblog or both to help save a piece of Memphis history. Tag list under the cut.

Tagging: @jayde-jots, @thefedoragirl, @nelllia, @postmodernpre-grouping, @ihatewoodpeckers,

@gold-dust599, @klein-sodor-bahn, @supermariojack, @ilovebfdi123, @gordonhighlander49,

@be-kind-and-rewind-again, @sophiaenginehuman, @slowlykawaiidreamland, @etherealcaprifandoms, @colaxcoco,

@asktheoriginalorder, @tornadoyoungiron, @gordon208, @shadowthebou, @engineer-gunzelpunk,

@baldwin-10-12-d, @lnwrcauli, @mintydeluxes-blog, @thefluffyrailway-official, @bladexjester,

@lorainedoesthings, @moonlightcrystal12, @skylarthethompson, @viktuurishipper96, @avaford2009,

@6220coronation, @wisetalekid, @brainstorms-briefcase, @sketalya, @brendambois,

@gatatodapoderosa, @edward2289, @gronkgal, @frendmvl456, @dickheadgirl,

@freakann, @steam-beasts, and @mean-scarlet-deceiver.

#memphis #ttte fandom #petition

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whirligig-girl · 5 months ago

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Eaurp Guz's roughly 1:30 scale live-steam model of Slaibsgloth Coal Railroad No.32, a ~1.6 meter gauge 2-8-8-2 garratt steam locomotive built on planet Mellanus in (earth-)year 2346 and retired in 2379 (two years ago) for service bringing coal carriages from the coal pits up to the interchange at the Glooiw & North Eastern. It is unusual for a coal burning steam engine to remain in revenue service--the majority that remained in use after the development of Diesel-Hydraulics were decommissioned with nuclear-powered railway electrification in the 2360s, and the ones that remained were mostly converted to oil burning. The Slaibsgloth steam engines meanwhile persisted right up until the closure of the coal mine. Glooiw & North Eastern has acquired the 40 locomotives. Their fates are uncertain but railway preservation groups remain optimistic.

When Guz first came aboard the Cerritos she was overworking herself constantly, which lead to her being so tired that she was leaving residues on the consoles and generally doing sloppier work. It turned out that Guz had been working double shifts, and when Billups found out he put a stop to that. That's when Guz turned to a hobby she'd done a lot of before joining starfleet--model rocketry. Armed with far more advanced tools than she'd had on Mellanus, she made accurate working model replicas of real historical prewarp spacecraft from a variety of planets and would fly them in real space whenever possible.

Eventually, she also found a new appreciation for her childhood love of trains, and her model-making skills and tools translated well to model railroading as well. She has a little shelf layout in storage that she occasionally tinkers with, and she runs large scale model trains on the holodeck. She could run full-scale holographic trains on the holodeck too of course, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. And then there's the 1:5600 scale BM-gauge railroad she's building on a microscope slide! (Bµ gauge is "Byte micrometer" gauge or a track spacing of 256 µm)

Guz eventually wants to build a roughly 1:80 scale modular layout of the Slaibsgloth Coal Mine, with smaller scale electric-powered models of the Slaibsgloth coal-burning steam engines and enough track to wrap around a room and give them a good run, but unless she can rally support for a Cerritos chapter of the Starfleet Rail Transport Modelling Club or she can get her own crew quarters, it's a pipe dream--or maybe something for her retirement.

Replicators and advanced computer aided design tools reduce the amount of time it takes to get modelling projects done by whatever factor is desired. Technically Guz could probably replicate fully assembled working models as long as they fit in the replicator bed, but where's the fun in that? But she's still only got so much time in an off-shift, and doing it 'properly,' scratch-built using machine tools like 'real' modellers on Mellanus, or manually defining all of the geometry in a CAD program like modellers on Earth, would take too much time.

see also: alt versions of the locomotive.

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mrtheengie · 3 months ago

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Adventures at Woburn Waterworks. The best two days of my life.

Photo 1: Brass and Iron. Notice the modular construction of the steps. The main steam valve is in the top left. It has two wheels, one upstairs, and one at ground level.

Photo 2: Flywheel. The flywheel carries the momentum of the engine.

Photo 3: Low Pressure Side. The engine at Woburn is a compound, meaning it uses steam twice. The high pressure cylinder receives steam from the boiler. It exhausts into a receiver, i.e. a large tank between the cylinders, and the larger, low pressure cylinder uses this steam. A very efficient setup indeed.

Photo 4: Eccentrics. Unlike a locomotive or a ship's engine, a waterworks engine cannot reverse. It doesn't need to. So, why does each cylinder have two eccentrics? This engine is Corliss engine, or a four valve engine if you want to be more general. Each cylinder has four valves: two inlet, and two exhaust. It has two of each because most steam engines are double acting, meaning steam acts on both sides of the piston. These two sets of valves are each controlled by their own eccentric, allowing the engineers to make very precise adjustments to the valve timing should it become necessary. Also visible here is the belt which turns the fly-ball governor, yet another ingenious appliance from the steam age.

Photo 5: Down the Shaft. A view of the crankshaft, showing some of the gauges on the board. Since the engine was made a secret during the war, it has, very happily, retained ALL of its original gauges. Notice how the second on from the right reads "STEAM." Also notice the fact that the needle is not at zero...

#photography #industrial #industrial history #steam engine #history #steam #massachusetts #boston #new england #iron #factory #landmark #structure #preservation

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weirdowithaquill · 30 days ago

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Traintober 2024: Day 16 - Golden

Oh, How Rebecca Loved the Sun...

In a siding, tucked behind a long line of trucks awaiting transport to the works for repairs, sat a West Country class. Her name was Rebecca, and she was patiently awaiting her crew. Golden rays of sun shone down on her, warming her boiler through and leaving her comfortable and just a little sleepy.

“Morning, Rebecca,” called her driver, striding over from the sheds. “I see they left you out in the sun again, eh? You always were fond of the sun.” “It just feels so nice, driver,” chuckled Rebecca. “Surely you understand?” Her driver just nodded in agreement, already starting his checks. As soon as he was out of sight though, he grimaced.

Rebecca was a delightful engine to work with – but she was naïve and oblivious to the extreme. All around her, steam engines had been withdrawn and replaced by diesels and electrics – she herself had been moved from Exmouth Junction just before all her classmates there were unceremoniously pulled from service and dragged away to be cut up. And yet somehow Rebecca didn’t realise. She barely noticed as the number of steam engines around her grew smaller and smaller with each passing year, long time friends vanishing while she was out on an express run.

“They’re just being useful elsewhere!” Rebecca would say when her driver tentatively asked what had happened to them, hoping one day Rebecca would wise up to the truth of the situation and admit they’d been scrapped. And every time Rebecca replied that her old friends – many of whom she’d known since she was built – had simply been transferred, her driver caved and agreed that he’d heard that too.

What was he supposed to say to his engine? This living sunflower of a locomotive who only seemed to see the best in everything, even as she became run down due to a lack of maintenance.

“Come on Rebecca, we’ve got a train to pull,” her driver said kindly, and swung up into her cab. He could only hope to keep protecting her for as long as possible. At least until she either figured it out on her own or he was unable to hide it any longer. And much to his displeasure, he didn’t think either of those options had a very long lifespan left in them.

***

Rebecca’s driver clung to the letter, scrunching it up in his hands. His engine had been sold off.

“I thought I’d get longer,” he sighed, letting the letter fall to the floor as every fibre of his body seemed to sag in sadness. His golden girl was being preserved, sure – but not on the railway. She would likely not run again, not where she was going.

“Morning Rebecca!” he chirped, trying to put on a brave face. The West Country Class opened a sleepy eye, gazing down at her driver even as she hummed at the warmth of the beams of sunlight gently warming her boiler. “I have exciting news for you!” “Oh? What is it driver?” asked Rebecca curiously, gazing down at him with bright eyes. Looking closer, the deep, also black of the pupils was flecked with hints of golden, her eyes an almost warm brown in the sun.

“You’ve been sold,” her driver said as gently as he could. “You’re going to get a full overhaul and a special coat of paint next week, and then you’ll be going to your new home!” He tried to smile, but it felt weak in front of his engine. Rebecca just stared at her driver in confusion.

“Who bought me?” she asked. “S. J. Edwards’,” replied her driver. Rebecca frowned; had she been a puppy, she’d have tilted her head to the side in confusion. Her driver felt a bit like he was telling a golden retriever he was ‘selling it to a farm in Scotland’.

“Isn’t that the toy company?” quizzed Rebecca. “I didn’t know they needed an engine.” “Neither did I, Rebecca,” replied her driver. “But that’s who bought you.” Rebecca seemed… apprehensive about the revelation that she was being sold on, but still went about her regular duties with her usual cheerful mood.

“Maybe I’m going to pull special trains of toys for children,” she thought to herself out loud. Her driver winced in her cab, but said nothing. He would just have to let her dream for a little while longer.

The days passed rapidly, far too rapidly. The sun kept up its shining for once, giving Rebecca plenty of time out in its golden rays. To her driver, it was almost as if the heavens above were giving Rebecca her swansong. She was certainly getting the most out of the good weather, spending all her time out soaking up the sunshine in between trains. In the sheds, the other engines spoke in hushed tones about the odd West Country Class who just seemed oblivious to everything, though her driver did everything he could to keep Rebecca from hearing the whispers.

It was not enough. It was never enough.

Rebecca was sent to Eastleigh Works for the repairs. She was to get a full overhaul to prepare her for her new life – one of the last major overhauls of a steam engine the works would ever undertake, and also Rebecca’s first true taste of the truth. Without her driver or her friends around to protect her, Rebecca was faced with the ugly reality of British Rail. As she waited for her turn in the works, she was placed in the Eastleigh engine sheds, right near where rows of steam engines stood silent, men weaving between them with cutting torches. These men held none of the same love for steam engines that her driver did. Instead, they silently did their work, slicing deep cuts into slowly rusting engines to pull them apart and sell off their metal for reuse. A line of stonily silent trucks stood between the engines living at Eastleigh sheds and those dying there, a stark dividing line which was being steadily loaded up with the cut-up remains of the engines.

The weather changed too, the sun hiding away behind thick grey clouds that unleashed great heaps of rain all over the countryside. Rebecca was left cold and alone, not even able to talk to the other engines due to how shocked she was.

“Poor thing,” sighed a Lord Nelson Class from the other side of the yard. “She really had no clue apparently. Must’ve been nice, living without the knowledge.” Rebecca didn’t agree. She wished she had known, she wished she’d been able to grab all of her friends and cling tightly to them. They were gone now, weren’t they? Brought to places like this and left on cold, damp sidings until they were ripped into by the scrappers. They’d all put on such positive attitudes around Rebecca that she’d never suspected, never heard the undercurrent of fear that permeated every illness and rust patch that made itself known.

Her friends were dead.

Rebecca was a very different engine, going into the works. Even as she was buffed and shined and gifted brand new parts machined to perfection to ensure she was the absolute peak of health, all she could think about was how there were hundreds of engines right outside being treated to agony and death while she was pampered. Rebecca didn’t even notice the golden yellow livery being deftly applied until it was finished, bright orange and red lining and embellishments being carefully added to compliment the new colourful livery. Her number was changed, as was the lettering on her tender.

Gone was the old British Railways logo; in its place stood a large stuffed bear holding a banner with ‘S. J. Edwards’ written on it in a fancy logo. The teddy bear looked very fancy, not that Rebecca could see it. All she could see was the men scurrying about in front of her, preparing her to be moved.

She had taken up enough space in their workshop for too long already, and now they wanted her gone so they could begin work on the next EMU overhaul. Rebecca was dragged out by a Class 07 and gently pushed backwards up a rickety ramp and onto the back of a Scammel Contractor lorry. Rebecca felt very odd as she watched her tender get added to a second trailer moments later, seeing just how different it looked for the first time.

“Where am I going now?” she asked the foreman. “S. J. Edwards’ main plant,” replied the foreman briskly. “You’ll be their shining mascot… or something like that.” He turned away to signal that Rebecca was chained down and ready to move, even as Rebecca began to realise just what the foreman had said.

She was to be a mascot. Mascots didn’t move, they didn’t haul around presents. They sat still and smiled even as the years wore down on them. She’d seen it from an old tank that had been the mascot of a town until he was so rusted and tired that he had to be taken away and placed in a specialist museum to be restored.

Or maybe that had been a lie, and he’d also been scrapped.

Rebecca travelled far on the roads, through towns she’d once served that now had only diesels, if any railway at all. How had she been so blind to everything changing? How had she managed to miss each event as it happened?

The truck turned again; Rebecca felt something shift under her. The roads were so uncomfortable, and yet it was the only way to the factory now. There was no railway out to the S. J. Edwards main facility anymore, because British Railways didn’t think it important.

There were no more steam engines safe from scrap because British Railways didn’t think they were important.

The truck slowed to a stop, and a crane rumbled up. Rebecca looked over – the building was certainly fancy, and right inside the front entrance there stood a plinth. It was empty but for a pair of rails set into the concrete.

That… that was her new home, wasn’t it?

Rebecca was carefully pushed inside, moved on temporary rails up to the plinth before her brakes were locked on, chocks were forced under her wheels and the temporary rails were ripped up. Her glorious golden paintwork was starkly contrasted by the tears falling from her eyes.

“Stop crying and smile, idiot!” snarled a man in a pinstriped suit. “You’re meant to be a mascot, not a sob story. What child wants to see a blubbering mess when they come visit?” The man rapped his cane against Rebecca’s buffers. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to silence the stunned engine.

Rebecca looked up – above her stood a large dome from which great white lights hung to illuminate everything far too brightly. It was nothing like the golden rays of sun Rebecca so loved to feel on her boiler. These lights weren’t warm, they were cold and unforgiving.

And at night, they were abruptly shut off, plunging Rebecca into the dark with only her own thoughts and her tears.

And even today, one has to wonder if Rebecca will ever feel the sun again?

Back to the Master Post

#weirdowithaquill #fanfiction writer #thomas the tank engine #traintober #traintober 2024 #ttte rebecca #british railways #prompt: golden

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blaze-aus-steam-lover · 21 days ago

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The Queensland C17 class

Queensland Railways C17 Class No.967 in the Historical Gympie Station Platform. [01/08/2020) : r/queensland

The Queensland Railways C17 class is a class of 4-8-0 steam locomotives operated by the Queensland Railways (QR). The class was designed to be an improvement of the C16 class. As per QR's classification system any class with a C had 4 driving axles on the locomotive. 227 locomotives were built from 1920 when the first engine No. 15 until 1953 when No. 1000 was the last delivered. The design of the last inspired Commonwealth Railways to have their NM class built with some modification.

Queensland Rail Heritage 1951 steam train C17 class number… | Flickr

The class hauled mail trains on the lines that could not accommodate the much heavier B18¼ class. They also hauled passenger trains, goods, mixed trains and branch line work. The class was the heaviest locomotives that could operate north of MacKay until 1948. The class was also responsible for hauling the Inlander, Midlander and the Westlander trains for parts of the journey up until the introduction of diesel electric locomotives.

Australian 1951 built C17 class locomotive number 974 leav… | Flickr

25 where preserved and 202 where scrapped of the class. The Mary Valley Rattler a Heritage Railway has 8 of the class. No. 1000 of the class is at Queensland Rail Heritage Division and is stored at the Workshops Rail Museum in Ipswich, Queensland.

videos of the class running:

Queensland Rail Heritage - Kingaroy Branch C17 974 - 1997

C17 No.974 Goes To Yandina

C17 974 - Cab Ride Clifton to Toowoomba - 24/09/2016

#australia #steam locomotive #australian steam engines #steam train #steam engine #queensland #Queensland Railways

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duskstargazer · 8 days ago

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[2014]

“Okay, Thomas, you’re all set. Take care now - Sir Topham Hatt needs you in as good of condition as possible for next year. I trust you know why.”

“Of course.” The tank engine laughed. “My centenary’s next year.”

“Precisely. I don’t quite know what your controller’s got planned, but it’s going to be big.”

Just then, a horn hooted. Thomas and Brighton looked out to the yard. Two headlights beamed from the darkness. Bear came in with a most startling load on his well wagon.

“Well I’ll be…!” Thomas gasped.

“Good to see you again, Thomas!” Stepney called.

“Y- I- you too!” The tank engine replied, trying to get his thoughts into line.

“Stepney.” Brighton grunted.

“Hey, Stroudley.” Stepney smiled.

“Can’t your driver use a pen?” Brighton lectured - though Stepney could tell his brother was only teasing. “Write to me some time!”

“I’ve been tryin’ to,” Stepney chuckled, “but the preservation scene keeps you a lot busier than you might expect. With all the story tellin’, autographs, pictures, planning events - some “Thomas” themed ones to boot - there just aren’t enough hours in the shift sometimes.”

Just then, Victor pulled up.

“Okay, okay, what is going on out here?” He grinned.

“I’ve brought Stepney from his home in England for an overhaul.” Bear explained.

“My controller asked if I could be overhauled here instead of back home because of the backlog of repairs on our line.” Stepney elaborated, in an odd tone of voice.

Victor caught on at once.

“Don’t worry, Stepney. We’ll have you back in steam in no time at all. Bear-”

A low whistle sounded out as Warrington shuffled out of the Works.

“Thanks again, Victor!” Warrington called out.

“Anytime, my friend!” Victor called back.

“Stay safe out there!” Brighton added.

“Ahem- Bear, please bring Stepney into the main building. I’ll have the workers start on him first thing in the morning.”

“Sounds good.” Rumbled Bear. “Don’t worry,” he added to Stepney, “Victor and his folks are the best in the business.”

#ttte #thomas the tank engine and friends #thomas and friends #railway series #rws #rws warrington #rws bear #ttte stepney #ttte victor #ttte oc billy #ttte oc brighton works #ttte thomas

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radiojamming · 4 months ago

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My apologies if you've already answered this somewhere, but do we know what Charles Hartnell did for a living/what his life was like after losing his older brothers?

Hi there!

Charles Hartnell trained at Chatham Dockyard for several years and ended up becoming a shipwright like his father, grandfather, great-grandfather etc. At one point, in the 1881 census, he was a lead shipwright at the yard.

He married Hannah Owen in 1852 when he was 24 years old and had five children with her, including his son Thomas (!!) who worked as a steam engine draftsman at Chatham. In the census records, it shows that all of his children were educated (listed as 'scholars') and one of his daughters became a schoolteacher. I've heard that Charles seemed to prize education and was insistent on his children being literate and making something of themselves.

As to what his life was like after his brothers' deaths, it's hard to say. I do know he wrote quite a few letters to the Admiralty which are currently held by his family and not available to the public. The letter declaring John's death and debt was delivered to him personally, and Thomas' Arctic service medal was also delivered to him. He seemed to be the most insistent on preserving their memory, as his descendant Donald Bray was the one who provided the "may we be spared to meet on earth" letter to researchers and his other descendant Brian Spenceley was the one who served as photographer to his great-great uncle's exhumation and provided a painting of Charles as an adult.

(HARTNELL NOSE! REDDISH HAIR! YEAH!!!!!)

Here's an article from 2014 about Spenceley talking about his family and seeing John Hartnell's body in person, as well as showing the picture of Charles.

I do wish we knew more about him and his thoughts and feelings about his brothers. All we currently have are a few comments from his now-famous letter (which includes a phonetic spelling of his Kentish dialect!):

Dear Brothers This comes with my kind love to you hoping it find you both in good health as thank god it leaves me at present. It is nearly three years since we parted but I hope it will not be that time before we meet again. There has [written as 'their as’!] been great changes taken place since then. [...] But if I tell you all the news now I shall have none to tell you when you come home which I hope will not be long as three long years have nearly passed away[.] [...] I wish you a prosperous passage to return safe home as no more at present from Your Affectionate Brother Charles Hartnell

#john hartnell #thomas hartnell #charles hartnell #franklin expedition #i have a lot of feelings about chartnell and his painting always makes me feel like sad-happy

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