#flatdust

[autohavenwreckerz]

idk if i should even tag this

[scissorsisterredcaboose]

cheer for bochum flatdust and olc previews dinah being. interesting

[wetcatschwartzy]

(late) valentine’s exchange for @stealthkragen !!! olc flatdust with their brick and gravel :)

[blueberryattack]

Dustin takes picture of any time one of HH3's cats are loafing and/or cuddled up to Brick to show Flat-top

[colynisdead]

Should I write a flatdust fic?

[meerkatblue22]

here’s some older art from an insta request since I feel the need to share it

[purse-moneychurch]

flatdust perhaps ! dustin and the rabid brick truck

HELL YEAAH!!!!!

They!!!! The!!!!! Oh my!!!!! I LOVE Flatdust!!!!!

If there's a song I associate with them sooo much (especially as an OLC Flat-top enjoyer) is Punk Rock Também É Pra Veado by Teu Pai Já Sabe?!!!!!!!!! Rabid brick truck

[green-planets]

would love to request some flatdust for valentines day <3

Them <3

[autohavenwreckerz]

To yearn or whatevarrrrr

[scissorsisterredcaboose]

(drooling all over my screen) Yes boss...

[honey-dont]

dustin apologizes to inanimate objects for accidentally bumping into them while flat top just smashes them to pieces with his brick

[blueberryattack]

A father's day Drabble: Flat-top adopts the hip-hoppers.

TW for implied abuse.

“We're not afraid of you.” The biggest of three trainlets snarled at Flat-top. The middle was tucked behind him, peering out at the brick truck, wide-eyed. The little one, hardly more than a toddler, was tucked against the biggest one's leg, clutching it.

They were brothers, Flat-top would guess. Runaways, maybe. They were dirty, looked like they were half-starved. The oldest - not more than ten, maybe, had a faded bruise under his eye. 

They were braver than him, then. Smarter, probably, but that wasn’t saying much. His old yard hadn't been good, and he'd stayed too long. Then he'd bounced from yard to yard, short little stints, until he found Apollo Vic. He felt safe here, cared for, even if he'd resisted that at first. He'd come around to it, in the end.

Maybe they would, too.

“Ain't trying t’ scare ya,” He said. “You three look hungry.” He'd spotted them sneaking around the supply sheds, probably looking for something to snatch to eat, or maybe sell. Waited until it was getting dark, so maybe a place to spend the night, too. Resourceful little things, or at least the big one was.

They'd have to stick with the freight shed, of course. Poppa and Belle were both too old to be raising trainlets; Greaseball and Dinah had one of their own on the way. Ashley and Buffy he didn't think were interested in motherhood. Pearl and Rusty might be inclined to take in one, but he couldn't ask them to take in three. But there were five of them in the freight shed, though it might be some doing to convince all three Rockies. They were freight trainlets, anyway, they'd end up with them eventually.

It didn't take much more coaxing than the promise of food to get them indoors. The big one was still watching him warily as they sat around the table, eating the leftovers Flat-top had raided from the fridge. The middle one just seemed happy to stuff his face, and the little one was happily babbling away at Brick (Flat-top was definitely not already attached to the little one).

“You're not sending us back where we came from,” The big one said flatly.

“Course not.” Wherever they'd come from, they clearly didn't belong there. Didn't want to be there, and Flat-top wasn't a snitch.

“What if the marshals from our yard come looking for us?” 

“We'll them the truth. You're my boys, of course,” Flat-top said proudly. “Mine and Dustin's. Born right here.” They might have to forge a few records for that. He wondered if he could still get a hold of CB, that seemed like something he'd know how to do, or have the right connections for. “How'd you get the black eye?” They'd need a story for that too, if they were tracked down sooner rather than later.

The boy flinched slightly at the question - or at the memory? - before he caught on. “Ham kicked me in my sleep,” He said slowly, pointing to the middle one. “Wore his skates to bed.”

"Ham?"

"Short for Hamlet. He doesn't like it much."

"He can change it if he wants."

"But Grandad named us all," The middle one - Ham - finally spoke up. "He's gone now, though. That's why we had to leave."

"Right then. Sorry." No one left to protect them, if Flat-top had to guess.

“We're not staying here for good if we don't like it," The big one added. Hadn't gotten a name out of him yet, but he would.

“Won't make ya,” Flat-top said. “We have an understanding, then?” He reached out a hand for the big one to shake. 

Dustin was the first back to the shed that night. He found the four in the living room, the two older boys on the couch, the youngest tucked up against Flat-top's side in the armchair - a remarkably sweet sight. He skated through quietly, trying not to wake any of the trainlets. 

Were these relatives of his? Flat-top didn't talk about his family or his old yard much. Said Dustin was all the family he needed (though he knew Poppa and Belle and Rusty and Pearl and the Rockies all counted him as family too). He would've told them, too, if he was expecting visitors.

He gently shook Flat-top awake. “Hey, love,” The brick truck murmured as he woke. He shifted, seeming to suddenly remember the sleeping trainlet cuddled up to him. He smiled sleepily up at him. “Oh, right. Our kids. I'll explain in the morning. Just let ‘em sleep, don't think they've gotten proper rest for days…” 

Their kids?

Flat-top wouldn't have brought trainlets into the shed if they didn't need a place to stay, and it sounded like they did. Looked like they did. They appeared underfed to Dustin's eyes, and needed proper baths and clean clothing, but that they could deal with tomorrow, too. He grabbed a couple of throw blankets, draping one over the pair on the couch. He paused as he went to put the other over Flat-top and the smallest one, watching with a smile as the trainlet shifted and snuggled closer to his new father's side.

[kingsnake101]

Wandering in to kindly request a little quidrogen or flatdust fluff (or both in one somehow if you're so inclined) please 🙏

Quidrogen for you!!! I hope you like it. I wasn't particularly interested in this ship before, but after writing I can definitely see the appeal. It's a very cute dynamic.

I referenced my own experiences with sensory overload a lot during this, along with my experience with "ADHD tornadoes" (the phenomenon where people with adhd/add get into a conversation and become very loud without realizing).

Word count: 2,434

Warnings: Sensory overload

At first, Tassita hadn’t been concerned about the snow. He only had a few hours left until he was dropped off at the Troubadour station, and it started out light enough.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way. By the time they pulled into the station, Tassita could barely see the engine a few cars ahead. He stepped off the tracks into the (thankfully covered) station, waving goodbye to the commuter car he had been chatting with. He watched them roll into the night, before sighing and skating to the door.

Freshly fallen snow glimmered under the streetlamps, casting a yellow glow across the entire yard. It would have looked beautiful, but Tassita could only focus on the tracks to the coach shed. Or, rather, where the tracks were supposed to be.

Usually, the distance between the coach shed to the main yard was pleasant. Now, it only ensured that he wouldn’t be able to get back until the plows came the next morning. He groaned loudly, running a hand up his face.

He had a few options. He could stay in the station, or ask to stay in the engine or freight shed. So really, his options were: freeze to death, fend off advances the whole night, or stay at the loudest place in the yard. Great.

Tassita shivered, the cold seeping through his jacket much more apparent now that he wasn’t moving. He had to make a decision, and fast.

With one last longing glance to the coach shed, Tassita skated down the ramp and towards the freight shed.

As he rolled closer, he could hear a loud shriek from inside. Tassita briefly considered going back to the station as the sound of shattering ceramic overwhelmed the silence. A particularly cold wind brushed his freezing form, pushing him to skate to the door.

The talking briefly stopped as Tassita knocked on the door. Moments later, it opened, revealing the confused face of Hydra. “Woah. Hey, Tassita. What’re you doing here?” he asked, his face slightly flushed from the cold breeze. 

“Can I stay here tonight? The tracks to the coach shed are snowed over,” Tassita requested in as polite a tone as he could manage. 

“Yeah! I- I mean, I think so. Let me ask,” he responded, before disappearing behind the door. After a muffled conversation Tassita couldn’t be bothered to decipher, he reappeared, opening the door all the way. “Come on in! We have some stew if you're hungry. You're probably used to Dinah's cooking–”

Tassita tuned out the rest of Hydra’s rambling. He knew it was rude, but he was already overwhelmed and the monologuing wasn't helping. He wished he had his headphones. Ironically, it was the first time in months that he had left his headphones at the coach shed. If the Starlight Express was real, he was sure it was laughing at him. 

Slick’s voice snapped him out of his trance. “And no shushing us!” she called from over the back of the couch. Tassita leveled her with a glare, which she shrugged off. “What? My house, my rules.”

Tassita carefully held back his retort. As much as he hated it, she was right. He was a guest, and he had to abide by their rules. “I’ll try to keep them quiet,” Hydra offered, waving his hand to get Tassita’s attention. When Tassita didn’t respond, Hydra continued. “You can sleep in my room. The couch is. Uh. Less than clean.” Tassita turned to see Lumber trying and failing to toss popcorn in Porter’s mouth. 

He thanked Hydra as he held open the door. Tassita stepped inside, although there wasn’t much space to step. The room was closer to a closet than a room. LED lights bathed the bedroom in a soft green glow, illuminating the mattress that took up nearly the entire floor and the clothes that hung above it. Pictures hung on nearly all the available wall space, including one of Hydra and Rusty holding the championship trophy. The room smelled of eucalyptus. “I’m sorry it’s so small. Slick didn’t want to share the bigger room,” he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” Tassita stated, walking inside. He meant it, although he couldn’t muster the energy to make Hydra believe it.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure. I could ask-”

“Hydra.” Tassita looked Hydra in the eyes. His face looked oddly dark in the green light. “It’s fine. I promise.”

“Ok,” he said quickly. “I-I’ll go warm up the stew. Make yourself at home.” With that, he was gone. Tassita didn’t have the energy to dissect why he was so nervous. The coach closed the door, beginning the process of taking off his work tack. Usually, he would change into sweatpants and a hoodie. Unfortunately, all of that was currently at the coach shed.

A dark green hoodie hanging above the bed caught his attention. Surely, Hydra wouldn’t mind if he borrowed some of his clothes. He had plenty of the same hoodie, after all.

Tassita ended up grabbing the hoodie and a pair of nearly-black sweatpants. They were both much too big on him, but he could manage. He tied the sweatpants tightly, rolling up the legs until they were a reasonable length. He did the same with the hoodie sleeves.

It was thankfully quiet as he rolled back into the main room. It likely wouldn’t stay that way, assuming by the monopoly currently being set up on the coffee table. Tassita stopped by the stove, next to Hydra.

“Soup’s read–” Hydra interrupted himself as he saw Tassita. A dark flush crept up his neck.

“You’re very red. Are you okay?” Tassita questioned, taking the bowl from Hydra’s hand and filling it with stew himself. That seemed to shock Hydra out of his frozen state.

“I-I’m fine! Everything’s fine. It’s just, uh, really hot in here! Yeah. I’m gonna go… monopoly.” he stammered.

“Ok,” Tassita replied as Hydra hurriedly skated away. He took a bite of the stew, wrinkling his nose. Hydra was right. It was far from Dinah’s cooking. He ate it as fast as he could manage, flinching at the bout of laughter from the couch. He set his bowl in the sink and skated back to Hydra’s room.

Tassita had hoped to somehow fall asleep before the game inevitably descended into noisy chaos. He gave up that idea rather quickly as the freights began to argue over the thimble piece.

He climbed into the bed, taking a moment to appreciate how clean the sheets felt. All the clothing had a very slight eucalyptus smell, although after a few minutes Tassita barely noticed it. Maybe he would have to ask Hydra about the laundry detergent he used.

Something crashed from the living room, quickly followed by a rowdy cackle. Tassita pulled the blanket over his head, and then the pillow as Porter and Hydra got into a very loud discussion about ice cream.

The noise grated on his ears, making his head feel claustrophobic. It didn't help when Porter and Slick joined the discussion, talking over each other and getting slightly louder each time. Tassita pulled the hood over his head and slammed his hands over his ears. It wasn't enough. He shuddered as one of them laughed loudly.

His first instinct was to tell them to quiet down. He almost did, but remembered Slick’s rule. She had explicitly told him not to shush them. 

Was the air in the closet getting thinner?

Tassita resorted to quietly shushing himself, a method he used to calm himself. It wasn't working. He didn't have his headphones, he couldn't tell them to shut up, and he couldn't leave. It was his worst nightmare, in all honesty.

Tassita dug his fingers into his scalp, pressing on his ears until they ached. Every breath he managed was exhaled in a soft “shhh”, although they became harsher as his panic grew. The world was closing in on him.

Someone shrieked, and Tassita couldn’t take it anymore.

He stood up and threw the blankets aside, marching to the door. He slammed it open, ignoring the freight’s startled looks. He skated to the door, yanked it open, and skated outside. The door slammed shut behind him.

It was blessedly quiet outside. No crickets or frogs broke the silence, the snow muffling the generator to a near-imperceptible hum. Snowflakes drifted onto his face, blessedly cool. Belle had told him once that drinking something hot or cold was a good way to break a spiral. Something about how the change of temperature in one’s core resets their mind. Tassita hadn’t believed it at the time. Now, as the cold air allowed his chest to loosen, he was much less sceptical.

“Tassita!” Hydra slammed the door open. Tassita flinched hard, clapping their hands over their ears and instinctively shushing him. “Sorry!” he squeaked. “Sorry,” he repeated, much quieter.

Tassita didn’t move. He wished that Hydra would go away, even as a traitorous part of his mind yearned for someone to hug him. Hydra was loud.

Still, Tassita couldn’t bring himself to tell the truck to leave. Snow crunched gently as Hydra walked around him, stopping when he mostly faced Tassita. To Tassita’s immense surprise, extended his pinky and thumb, rapping on his chin twice while furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?”

Tassita responded without thinking. He lifted his hands, spreading his fingers and shaking them by his ears. “Noisy.”

Hydra nodded, glancing back at the shed. His fist rubbed a circle at his chest. “Sorry.”

“How do you know sign?” Tassita couldn’t resist asking. Hydra was one of the last people he expected to know the language.

“Lumber doesn’t talk sometimes. All of us know it,” Hydra explained. His brows furrowed again as Tassita shivered. “We should go inside.”

Tassita shook his head. He couldn’t do it. Even if, by some miracle, the freights were quiet for the rest of the night, the idea of stepping back inside made his stomach churn. Hydra chewed on his lip, worry painted across his face. Suddenly, he perked up, snapping his fingers once. “I have an idea! Wait here,” he signed hurriedly, before speeding inside. Tassita raised an eyebrow, but stayed put.

A minute later, after some shuffling and complaints from the other freights, Hydra emerged. He carried a huge pile of blankets and pillows. He tried to shift it to one arm, but failed horribly, scrambling to keep the blankets out of the snow. He managed to get one hand free, and began to try to fingerspell.

“You can talk, just be quiet,” Tassita told him, unable to suppress a small chuckle. Hydra could be such a dork, sometimes.

Hydra’s face poked out from the pile. “I know a place. It’s quiet, and only a couple minutes away,” he explained in a whisper. Tassita raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t exactly pleased with the idea of following Hydra to some unknown location, but then again, he didn’t have a lot of options. For whatever reason, he trusted Hydra.

As Tassita followed Hydra behind the shed, he couldn’t help but imagine a dog. He was practically bouncing through the snow, occasionally glancing back to make sure Tassita was following. He entertained himself by imagining a tail wagging behind the truck.

Tassita became worried as Hydra walked into the woods behind the shed. In hindsight, following Hydra into a strange location in the middle of the night wasn’t his brightest idea. Still, he followed. He didn’t have the energy to question the truck about it, and something about Hydra felt remarkably honest. It was refreshing.

So, against his better judgment, he followed him into the woods. They didn’t go far. The lights of the shed were still in view as Hydra stopped, lifting his pile and dumping it into a building just above his head. A treehouse? “Welcome to La Casa De Slick!” Hydra boasted quietly, flourishing his hands towards the structure. It was old, with obvious patch marks covering it in more places than he could count. Despite its age, it looked sturdy, and Hydra had no reservations about climbing in.

Tassita followed him in, watching as he fiddled with something in the corner. Fairy lights came to life, illuminating the building with just enough light to feel cozy but not dark. Hydra began spreading the blankets and pillows around, and Tassita stepped in to help a moment later. Tassita was surprised by how warm his skin was whenever their hands brushed.

They worked in comfortable silence, with Hydra placing things down and Tassita adjusted them to his liking. The treehouse’s size was better suited to trainlets (then again, the same could be said for Hydra’s closet-bedroom), and was quite crowded with two grown cars. Somehow, Tassita found he didn’t mind. 

They finished quickly. Tassita was surprised at how comfortable it was. He would have assumed a few blankets on top of wood would be a lot worse. It was almost like a futon, but better-smelling and with a much nicer atmosphere.

Hydra cleared his throat, drawing Tassita’s attention. The yellow lights reflected nicely across the patterns on his face, accentuating his features and making him sparkle. He was cute, in a way. “Well… I should get going. I’ll see you in the morning. If you need anything, the door’s unlocked,” he whispered, before backing up toward the doorway.

Tassita grabbed his wrist, causing the truck to freeze. “You’re leaving?” he questioned.

“Y-yeah, I thought I’d give you some privacy.” Hydra seemed genuinely perplexed. Tassita huffed.

“And leave me alone in the woods, during a snowstorm?”

Hydra didn’t have a response for that. Tassita pulled him forward, lifting the blanket on the other side of the room and gesturing to it. He couldn’t suppress a smile as Hydra froze again. “It’s only weird if you make it weird,” he stated, before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.

He could hear Hydra shuffling, followed by some gentle pulls on the blanket. Eventually, he settled, and his gentle breaths joined the quiet cacophony of the forest.

Tassita had nearly drifted off when Hydra whispered something, his voice soft and wistful. Tassita opened his eyes. “Did you say something?”

Hydra flushed, averting his eyes to look at the blankets. “No. Nothing.”

“Okay,” Tassita responded. “Thank you, by the way. For all of this. It’s nice.” He had never been the best at expressing gratitude, but he figured he should try.

Hydra smiled, his face lighting up slightly. “Anytime,” he whispered. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Tassita replied. He closed his eyes again, easily falling asleep to the sound of Hydra’s breathing.

[thespectralelectral]

StEx Advent Ficlet Masterlist

VoltaJoule - Ice Skating

VoltaJoule - Fireplace Cuddling

Freight Vs Freight - Snowball Fight

OLC ElectraBoose - First Winter

Dinah & Pearl & Buffy - Hot Chocolate

Volta & Ashley & Purse - Winter Clothes

Wembley Freight - Sledding

Wembley Coaches & Rusty - Cuddling Pile

Electra & Components - First Snow

The National Engines - Gift Giving

The National Engines - Secret Santa

The Components (ElectraBoose) - Gift Planning

CB (GreaseDinah, GB/CB & ElectraBoose) - Mistletoe

CB - Christmas Pranks

Wembley Coaches (PRusty, GreaseDinah) - Christmas Time

Wembley Freight & Mama - Hydra's First Christmas

Rusty, Electra & Components - Stuck in the Snow

FlatDust - Sleeping and Slipping in Snow

RustRepair - Feeling the Cold

Kitchen Repair - Sulking and Cuddling

Wembley Freight - Shenanigans

PRusty - Christmas Market

ElectraBoose & Components - Snow Day

SlickBelle - New Year's Eve

[marastriker]

STEX APPRECIATION MONTH DAY FIFTEEN: DUSTIN

Favorite Actors

Ben Lancaster, Gavin Ashbarry

Favorite Costume(s)

His redesigned Broadway/Bochum costume, with the update makeup! <3 (He doesn't need to look like a terrifying clown smh)

Favorite Songs/Scenes

Racing with Poppa/Momma, and with Rusty! I also love to watch him vibe during Blues.

Favorite Ships

FlatDust, I hc them as QPP <3

Headcanon(s)

He's aroace but loves strong platonic bonds. 😊

Unpopular Opinion(s)

Not sure I have any!

[the-french-eurobitch]

~DAY #15: DUSTIN

(***Hiya folks! I apologize if this may be a liiiitle bit of a lackluster poetry piece. I was going through some personal mental health issues in the past week, and needed to focus on sorting those out for the time being. But now, everything's good! We're back! :) )

-x-

Favorite Actor: Gary Love, Toby Poole, Duncan Leighton, & Dale Branston (from the UK closing show boot; some of you might know him idk) 

Favorite Songs/Scenes: 

Dustin’s intro in the Freight Sequence; I always love seeing him and Flat Top have fun in a like “go crazy go stupid” kind of way

Him teaming up with Rusty after “I Am The Starlight”—So cute! I care them. 

Favorite Costumes: 

They’re all the same. :)

Favorite Ships:

Dustin x Ashley

Dustin x Duvay

HONORABLE MENTIONS: FlatDust & Dustin x Rusty

Headcanons:

He usually carries a lavender scented stress ball with him in his pocket, and he CAN AND WILL CRY if he accidentally drops it. 

Much like Rusty, he is also an early AM riser as well. :))

Every time he plays Chess with Flat Top, the poor soul gets beaten by him many times.

Unpopular Opinions: 

Dale Branston's overall performance completly goes in line with my interpretation of Dustin. I really like seeing him carry, with a cartoon-coated look, a jovial and very boastful energy! :)