#ttte specials

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Get a job, hippie.

- me to Spencer midway through Hero of the Rails

[bruhstation]

happy 4/4, gordon! 💙🚂⭐️ love ya you big old sausage

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Make us proud Mr. Shooting Star ⭐

Birthday gift for @bruhstation ! I remember drawing your Gordon once since your design for him is so majestic (plus his characterization is really intriguing to me). So I thought it'd be nice to draw him for you again! After all, Casa Tidmouth's best babygirl deserves something nice, doesn't he?

[theredengineapologist]

"Don't you know red is a lucky color?"

Gong Xi Fa Cai! I know the start of Lunar New Year is still about a month away, but I wanted to make sure I got this done early. ^^; I was inspired by @shikariiin's Dragon!Edward that she drew for New Year's. And as a fellow Year of the Dragon, I knew I had to do something too!

Originally I was thinking about drawing Thomas (as a reference to "Thomas, Percy, and The Dragon"), but in the end I decided to draw James because:

Favoritism RULES ("Somebody has to be the favorite... 🎶")

Red is a lucky color in Chinese culture (and I think in other Asian cultures as well, but Chinese is what I'm most familiar with)

So here's James all decked out in red (symbolic of good luck) and gold (symbolic of wealth). The leaf and branch pattern on his cheongsam is meant to be a subtle reference to "All in Vain", while the clouds on the lining pattern are meant to reference steam (cause he's a train lol). Also the character on his chest is his engine number 5. Numbers are among the only things I remember how to write in Mandarin. ^^;

This piece took me 24 hours to finish! I hope you all enjoy it! Happy New Year! 🐉

Detail Close-Ups under the cut!

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 6 - Special Letters

A Tale of Two Brothers:

When Flying Scotsman left Sodor in 1967, he left behind two things: a number of new friends and a mailing address. Alan Peglar was planning on taking Scott around the world after all – sooner or later at least – and using his owner’s address as a jumping-off point, Scott hoped to be able to keep in touch with his brother and his friends. These letters would forever remain special to Gordon, and the other engines knew it.

“Where is your brother off to?” BoCo had asked one evening, knowing Gordon had just received an envelope. “Apparently, he’s going to America!” Gordon had said, having just listened to his driver recite the letter written by Scott’s crew.

Gordon worried for his brother – and rightly so. Over the next four years of his life, Alan Peglar would drag Flying Scotsman right the way across the continental United States and Canada, tiring the middle-aged engine out and bankrupting himself. Flying Scotsman’s last letter to Gordon in 1972 read as follows:

Dear Gordon,

I’m sorry to say, but Mr Peglar has run out of money. We tried San Francisco, but it was no use. Now, I am unsure what will happen to me. They have moved me to a United States Military Base, and everyday I see large, aggressive diesels growl around. They seem to think that they will be able to tow me off at some stage – and considering that Mr Peglar has had to leave, I worry they may be right.

The United States isn’t all bad though – the people are nice enough. Even the soldiers and sailors sometimes stop to talk to me… but it’s mostly to ask about England, and I never really do have an answer for them. What am I supposed to say? That I miss my home and I miss my brother who you are all keeping me from ever seeing again? The soldier who is writing this for me just looked at me curiously, so now I will have to explain to him who you are. I bet you’re more famous than I am here!

I do hope to make it back to you one day – though it may be a little longer yet. Mr Peglar is unable to pay to bring me home, and no one else has offered to yet… well, apart from one gentleman – but that’s just a rumour. Wishing you dry rails and smooth running,

Your Brother, 4472 Flying Scotsman

Gordon had sent multiple letters in return, each more frantic than the last – but heard nothing from his brother until mid-1973, when Scott had clanked his way from Liverpool to Derby. Gordon was waiting for him, and spent a solid hour chewing out his brother, and then another three crying with relief. Flying Scotsman was his last sibling left, and those letters were the last thing tethering the two together, when a country, or an ocean, or even a continent separated them.

Scott never missed another letter. Not even when he travelled to Australia, during a far more successful journey that saw the locomotive break records and rake in new fans. Still, he took time out of his day to ensure Gordon got a letter, even once begging an old lady in Alice Springs to lend him the stamps necessary.

In the 1990s, the pair switched to emails, though sometimes they still send letters – especially on important occasions. Christmas cards from Gordon to Scott fill the NRM engine shed; Mallard resents them all, but Scott wouldn’t change it for the world. And in return, Gordon gets a birthday greeting from his younger brother every year, the cards and letters all being carefully framed and stuck to the back wall of his berth.

All letters are special, no matter how mundane, simply because they were crafted by one person specially for the receiver.

Back to the Master Post

[klein-sodor-bahn]

Happy 3/3

A bit of a retrospective for Henry and how his human form changed from the meek and sickly engine to an engine who can pull his weight and beyond. He’s now 105 years old in my headcanon.

He’s my favorite character for a reason.

[theflyingkipper]

Are there any particular funny anecdotes you have thought of of Duri adjusting to not being ✨An Elder✨ on Sodor?

Wrong world war.

[deviousdiesel]

Knowing that Duck's theme is a waltz while Diesel's is influenced by tango reflects how "similar but different" they technically are but it's also very interesting because both dances require a partner but neither of them are able to work together, thus implying they would not be a suitable pair.

[ryan1014n2]

Drawing in class again

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 6-Summons

Traintober

Other Stories

Day 6-Special Letter

Summons

Gordon, Northern, and Scotsman met at Cronk station near midnight as the letters had asked. "Why do you think Caomhnóir called us here brother?" Northern asked. Her newly restored LNER Blue paint shone in the yard lights.

"And why by letter?" Scotsman asked.

"I don't know," Gordon said. "He normally would have asked for us in person. I wanted to introduce him to both of you."

"Because you three draw too much attention as is."

The three large pacifics all jumped as the tank engine suddenly spoke. Thomas rolled out of a shadowed siding, he appeared to be covered in soot, black from footplate to funnel.

"What happened to you?" Northern asked in concern.

The tank engine chuckled, "Nothing that won't wash off later. It's almost too easy to sneak away when everyone is looking for a blue tank engine." He smiled at the three lner engines, "It is good to finally meet you Northern, and good to see you again as well Scotsman."

"So you are here as Caomhnóir, then," Gordon said once they had returned the tank engine's greetings.

Thomas shifted anxiously, "Yes, but not in the way you're used to." He hesitated, "Now that British Railways is letting up the search for engines, it's time I let others know about some of the engines I've hidden. That way if any were to happen to me..."

"They wouldn't be lost," Scotsman finished quietly.

"Yes." Caomhnóir sagged and for a moment his true exhaustion shone through, "I have no idea if this is the right decision...but I can't keep putting it off."

"Are you alright?" Gordon asked concernedly.

The tank engine gave a mirthless chuckle, "It's been a long few years." He glanced nervously up at the blue engine, "please don't hate me?"

Gordon frowned in confusion, "I can honestly say I can think of nothing you can reveal to us to make me hate you. You have always done your best Caomhnóir."

He suddenly chuckled, "If we made it through the twenties as friends, I highly doubt anything you have done will phase me. United we stand

..."

"...Together we fall." Thomas finished, smiling softly. "Alright then, if you will follow me, we're heading up to a private estate on the Peel Godred branch. It has rail access to help with the orchid's harvest."

"Can the rails hold us?" Northern asked dubiously, "We weigh significantly more than you."

Thomas smirked in a way that Gordon knew meant a trick was coming, "I have it on good authority they'll be able to hold you three. Now come on, the 70s can only distract everyone so long."

The three express engines trailed behind the little tank engine up the electric line, in the distance Gordon could see the three class 70 electrics at the station, doubtlessly creating the distraction Thomas had mentioned.

Gordon had only rarely traveled up the electric line, so he was unsurprised when he didn't recognize the junction to the estate. The tracks disappeared through a massive wrought iron gate. Thomas gave three short bursts of his whistle, and the gate cracked open. A teen shot through the gap, hugging Thomas's buffers.

"Caomhnóir!"

The tank engine chuckled warmly, "And a good night to you as well Rhyddid."

The girl huffed good-naturedly, "I've told you not to call me that."

The girls suddenly froze at the sight of the trio behind Thomas.

She turned pleading eyes on Thomas, "Does this mean..." She began hesitantly.

"Yes. It's time they know."

"YES!" The girl whooped, quickly dashing to open the gates. Thomas puffed through, pausing long enough for Rhyddid to climb up on his buffer beam.

The three siblings followed the pair into the estate, the teen, who asked to be called Rhy, happily chatting the whole time. They finally reached a set of sidings where the orchid's produce would be loaded, allowing the three engines to line up alongside each other as Thomas pulled up to a shed at the end of the sidings.

"Hey, Sis!" Rhy called as she unlocked a door and entered the shed, "you have visitors."

Gordon could make out the sounds of a discussion within, but it was covered by the sound of the shed doors swinging open.

The inside of the shed was dark, but Gordon could make out a large shape within, almost as large as his own. Rhy stepped over to a light switch, stopping to smirk at them before she flipped it, "Surprise."

The lights flicked on to reveal a large green engine. It had four smaller wheels in front, six 6'8" driving wheels in the middle, a pair of smaller wheels supporting her firebox and cab, and a large taper boiler. She was missing her tender, but her identity was unmistakable.

LNER A3 No.4480 Enterprise smiled nervously. "He..."

Northern surged forward to crash her buffers against their little sisters as Scotsman's and Gordon's jubilant whistles rang out through the night.

It was far later in the night when Gordon finally forced his eyes away from the impossible sight of Enterprise, intact and alive. Thomas and Rhy were quietly chatting to give the siblings a semblance of privacy.

Noticing the attention, Thomas nervously spoke, "Gordon, sorry I didn't tell..."

Gordon rolled up and gently pressed his buffers against Thomas's.

"Thank you," Gordon said hoarsely. "However you managed it, however long you had to hide it, thank you."

Thomas frowned, "Gordon, I let you and Scotsman think you were the only ones left."

"To save me." Enterprise spoke up. She glanced towards Scotsman, "He wanted to reveal me when you first visited, but it was the worst of the end at that time, and the other railway was already sniffing around this line."

She looked over to Gordon, "Your red friend found me on the mainland back in 62, said he couldn't let a chance to get one over on you go."

Thomas snorted, "James dodged eight patrols to get her back. If he was that dedicated to getting one over on you he would have done so by now."

Enterprise laughed, a bell-like sound that threatened to have Gordon begin crying again.

"Caomhnóir met us at your terminus and brought me here. Mrs. Rachel and Beth wanted to preserve a steam engine so Rhyddid could grow up like they did. They had a shed built and sent word to Caomhnóir that they were ready when he found an engine in need."

She smiled at Northern, "You won't have to keep these two in line much longer, they have been working on obtaining proper paperwork for me. They hope within a few years I'll be able to receive an overhaul and join you on the North Western."

"I'm going to be her driver." Rhy stated, "I can apply to the North Western next year, and I should be able to reach the position of driver by the time she's overhauled."

Gordon smiled, "I would be happy to have you train with my crew. The experience would see you ready in time."

"I would be happy to have you as well," Northern agreed.

It would be far later in the morning when the three pacifics followed Thomas back to the mainline, more tired than when they had arrived, but far, far happier.

[just-an-emily-existing]

TW: EYE STRAIN, GLITCHCORE, EYES, GLITCHES, FLASHING COLORS, THIS IS A GIF SO BE WARNED

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[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Thomas, every time he tries to get a favour out of James for the next 100 years: I saved your life, you ingrate

James, who against everyone's assumptions about him really had been very grateful... before Thomas had become insufferable about it: You did NOT save my life!!!

[bruhstation]

do you ever wonder what it's like to date the most mentally repressed bachelor of sodor but also want to prepare yourself for what's to come? for casa tidmouth's valentine's day special the author filled out this handy dandy chart so you can see if you're lucky for fitting all the criteria or for not fitting any of the criteria

(template by mythir on twitter)

[skarloeyspa]

floral train!!!!

[thebunnylord]

Ever since Percy’s fit about wanting a scarf, the islanders take it upon themselves to make a bunch of scarves and send them to the shed for Percy on Christmas, and every year, Percy is met with hundreds of packages (including his fans from around the world because come on, how are these engines not famous.) on Christmas morning containing both scarves and fan letters. He has received so many scarves that he can’t use that the fat controller had to tell everyone to stop sending them, but don’t worry! The scarves are always donated to hospitals and homeless shelters so they’re not a total waste, and they did keep a few of the interesting ones in the break room.

It’s also not uncommon for the engines to receive fan mail, they are famous after all. The fan mail usually gets pinned to a special bulletin board in the break room and has been on display at Tidmouth for anniversaries for the public to view.

After Edward decided to leave Tidmouth shed and stay at Wellsworth to be closer to his branchline after a combination of finding that he’s been running slower and his eyesight becoming poor due to old age, the fans were not happy that Edward left and thought it meant he was leaving for good. They flooded sir topham’s mailbox with angry letters with one person just writing the word “sob” for six pages straight, front to back.

The fan mail can be pretty interesting

[master-of-the-railway]

So was NOBODY gonna tell me humans are Bruno's special interest?? That's literally the best thing ever.