#whiff the garbage engine

[howardduck1490]

TTG Whiff at Food Bear

Another photo edit

[lovable-chica]

Pollie🦜

Bio

-Age: 16

-Accent: Spanish and British

-Voice Headcanon: Frida(From Hilda)

-Condition: ADHD and Teething Disorder

-Likes: Sodor, Engines, Trees, Her Jungle, Friends and Family, Pizza, Sugar Cookies, Cheering People Up, Someone having a better day

Dislikes: Dark Jessy, Anna The Wolf,Jessy.EXE, Brats, Bird Seed, Bird Poop, Someone have a bad day, Peanuts

🧡❤️About Her🪶

-Pollie is the only parrot on the island despite having a family and the younger and more active twin then her sister

-She’s can also be a bit short-tempered like Abby and starts having a tantrum and swears like a banshee much to everyone’s shocked or concerned

-She Suffers from Teething Disorder or Teething Problems that makes her have a hard time keeping her mouth close sometimes when she isn’t talking or anything, and has a hard time keeping her swear words to herself when someone is bullying her so she uses violence to get them to stop

-Is a Fan of Talking Tom and Friends and finds the show very funny and entertaining, her favorite episode is “The Famous Monster”(Mine Two)

-Holds A Grudge against Jessy’s Exe Friend Anna the Wolf like Abby and Amber, even Dark Jessy

-She secretly has wings that can magically turn walls into her favorite colors, also besties with Pastel Jessy

❤️Close With: Pastel Jessy(This Is @jessythebunny’s myself version oc), Rosie, Molly, Emily, Marion, Hannah, Henrietta, Percy, Amber(Oc), Abby(Oc), Suzi(Oc),Sweetstar(Oc), Rosepuff(Oc), Thomas, Edward, Henry, Glynn, Alice(C1 Engine), Toad, Ryan, Luna(Oc),

🧡Goods Friends with: Gator, Samson, Harvey, Arthur, Neville, Murdoch, Millie, Oliver, Duck, The Scottish Twins, @jessythebunny’s oc Jenny, Green Arrow, Rebecca, BoCo

RosePuff

Bio

-Age: 15

-Accent: Valley Girl and a bit British

-Voice Headcanon: Millie Mouse

-Condition: PTSD

-Likes: Candy Fish, Cake, Sugar, Cookies, Puppies and Bunnies, Hot Chocolate, Art, Pokies, Sushi, Her Room, Her Tablet, Friends and Family

-Dislikes: Smelly Garbage, Diesel 10, Someone yelling at her, Nuts, Grown Men that are rude, Enemies, Badness, Liars, Getting Seasick

🌸About Her🎀

-The Only Pegasus on Sodor

-Works With Arthur at the fishing village and also lives there with him

-Is Best Friends with Sweetstar, they both meet when they were both 6

-got abuse by her mother when she was 5 after her father died in an unknown accident, I’ll make a video of where her mother comes back

-That is the reason why she had PTSD, Arthur helps her to let go of the past and forget about it

-Rosepuff looks up to Arthur as a brother figure and secretly likes him, and pretty much gets flustered when he spoons on her on the bed(I ship her with him ok?)

🩷Close with: Arthur, Ryan, Sweetstar(Oc), Edward, Rebecca, Rosie, Nia, Emily, Oliver and Toad, Thomas, Percy, Amber(Oc), Suzi(Oc), Abby(Oc), Henry

❤️Good Friends with: James, Molly, Neville, Harvey, Darla(Oc), Donald and Douglas, Duck, Luna(Oc), Murdoch, Whiff

Sweetstar

Bio

-Age: 15-16

-Voice Headcanon: Melody Mouse

-Condition: Autism and ADHD

-Likes: Engines, Angel-Cake, Stars, Magic, Flying, Princesses, Cheesy Music, Her Flower Crown, Being A Little Pure Cutie

-Dislikes: Liars, Bullies, People who are sad, Simps, Diesel

✨About Her⭐️

-Sweestar and Lime are the only Alicorns on Sodor

-She sometimes has a hobby of being a bean when trying to get out of trouble

-Best Friends with Rosepuff and Percy

-She never knew her parents so she’s current living with her young-adult aunt and uncle

-She knows that Mia has a crush on Murdoch so they both have a turn on crushing on him, mostly Sweetstar becomes very shy, embarrassed, timid and flustered around him because she can’t admire how handsome he is, and Murdoch is secretly doesn’t mind it

-Everyone loves her fluffy hair and sleeps on it(I’ve seen this line on two TTTE Refs, ok)

💙Close with: Percy, Thomas, Rosepuff(Oc), Pollie(Oc), Suzi(Oc), Rosie, Murdoch, Harvey, Molly, Arthur, Amber(Oc), Hannah, Isobella

🩵Good Friends with: Henry, James, Toby, Flynn, Belle, Millie, Henrietta, Oliver and Toad, Duck, Donald and Douglas

Amber

Bio

-Age: 14

-Voice Headcanon: Helena Albright

-Condition: PTSD

-Likes: Makeup, Thomas, Percy, Being A Beautiful Husky, Her Phone, Friends and Family, Helping Others(Even in Engine Form), Being Sassy, Sodor, The Northern Lights, Pop Music

-Dislikes: Taking About Her Past, The Lost of Her Parents, Her Enemies

🪽About Her🐾

-at 11, Amber and Suzi wakes up one morning to see that they’re parents didn’t wake her up, she then goes downstairs to find the clock said 10:20 am this confused them and went into their parents bedroom to find them dead and covered in blood, both girls broke down in tears to find them laying there lifeless, Amber didn’t know the hospital number at the time so she and Suzi hesitated and got they’re things and left, Amber checked her phone for a place that her mother once told her, and she found the place she and her sister wanted to go, Sodor! The Girls sleep in a mail train for 4 days until they arrived on Sodor, The First Engine They meet was Rosie and told her everything that happened which shocked the Pink Engine, she later introduced them to Thomas and had been living on Sodor Since.(Sorry if Amber and Suzi’s backstory sounds rushed)

-Lives with Her Mom’s Sister who is Amber’s Single Aunt and Older Adoptive Sister Abby

-Swears A Little then Abby, and suffers from PTSD from her parents deaths

-Sometimes sleeps with Thomas at Tidmouth Sheds

🩵Close with: Thomas, Percy, Rosie, Molly, Rebecca, Emily, Suzi(Oc and Sister), Sweetstar(Oc), Abby(Oc and Older Sister), Neville, Donald and Douglas, Oliver and Toad, Duck, Skiff, @jessythebunny’s oc Marina, BoCo

🩵Good Friends with: Arthur, Bertie, Terence, Trevor, Edward, James, Toby, Henry, Gordon, Stepney, Hannah

Suzi

-Age: 14

-Voice Headcanon: Ellila-Jean Wood

-Condition: Ophidiophobia and PTSD

-Likes: Percy, The Northern Lights, Engines, Cake, Pizza, Fries, Bluebells, Friends and Family

-Dislikes: Ghosts(Expected Ghost Jessy), Seeing Diesel 10 with Percy

🐾About Her⭐️

-She Strongly Dislikes seeing Diesel 10 with Percy and starts chasing him with a bat and Abby in the background is like ��What the hell?”

-They only diesels that Suzi like are BoCo, Bear, Mavis, Derek, and Daisy, because they are friendly then the rude ones

-Best Friends with Cartoon Jessy and Finds her funny and cute like Percy

-Often Does Pranks along with Bill and Ben

-Likes to Pick Bluebells with Stepney and See The Northern Lights

-Sees Stepney, Percy and BoCo as her Big Brothers

💜Close with: Percy, BoCo, Bear, Rosie, Thomas, Amber(Oc), Abby(Oc), Sweetstar(Oc), Bill and Ben, Luna(Oc), Molly, Edward, Rebecca, Cartoon Jessy, Ghost Jessy

💜Good Friends with: Mavis, Daisy, Toby, Hannah, Henrietta, Carly, Nia, Gator

Abby

-Age: 15-16

-Voice Headcanon: Indica Watson

-Condition: ADHD and Neurodevelopmental Disorders

-Likes: Duck, Rock Music, Swearing, Donald and Douglas, Oliver and Toad, Her Friends and Family, Cookies, Popcorn, Pizza, Movies, being in her room

-Dislikes: Oliver getting jealous of her being flirty with Duck, Thinking Oliver will try to kill her for flirting with Duck, Being Yelled at, not being good enough

💟About Her💟

-Is Amber and Suzi’s Older Sister, and Duck’s Close Friend

-Will Sometimes Flirt with Duck that makes him nosebleeds like crazy(@jessythebunny Abby likes Oliver Two and don’t let his jealousy get the better of him)

-Calls Duck “Duckie”

-Likes Seeing Duck blush when she kisses him, and cuddles him for fun

-She has strong Scottish accent and swears a lot, and very proud of it

-Her Catchphrase is “SCOTLAND FOREVER”

-She and Hannah like to caused trouble together and always gets away with it

💜Close with: Donald and Douglas, Duck, Toad, Oliver, Percy, Thomas, Rosie, BoCo, Bill and Ben, Bear, Mavis, Edward, James, Dark Jessy, Cartoon Jessy

💜Good Friends with: Murdoch, Molly, Rebecca, Gator, Arthur, Neville, Old Slow Coach, Toby, Henrietta, Hannah, Big Mickey, Cranky, Carly

[number1spongebobfan]

T & F Hit Era Headcanons Part 2

Arthur!

He is known for being a respectful and obedient young engine. He was disappointed when he broke his spotless record, but Thomas cheered him up!

He wears a crown atop his head and princely clothes in honor of King Arthur.

He was confused when he met Merlin the Invisible Experimental Engine. Merlin thought he was the real King Arthur!

He likes to read classic literature.

He runs the fishing village. Arthur does have a secret; when he goes there he turns into a mer-engine. One time Thomas fell into the water and became a mer-engine himself!

He likes to eat fish and chips.

He has squirrel ears and a squirrel tail in his animal form.

Harvey

Not a headcanon but why does he look like the Forever Alone guy?

He's a crane engine. He can ride on rails but does have a hook applied on his hand.

He keeps his hair in cornrows.

He is very hardworking, but sometimes he overworks himself. Sir Topham Hatt reminds him to take a rest once in a while.

He is goofy and playful.

He's a crane - an actual crane, the bird, with gear wheels on his two legs in his animal form.

Molly!

She is timid, shy, and sweet.

She speaks in a soft, motherly tone of voice.

She, James, Edward and Emily go on double dates together.

Occasionally she can get sassy, which is a surprise to some, though is a good sign because it means she won't let others step over her.

She's a doe with train wheels on her legs in her animal form.

She is happy and takes delight in the smallest things around her.

She and Emily are besties.

Neville

Very shy, even more so than Molly. It's hard for him to get out sometimes.

He dresses in puritanical Amish fashion.

He is socially awkward.

Him and Dennis quarrel sometimes due to having differing personalities.

He is eager to work.

He has black cat ears and a black cat tail in his animal form.

He is curious and wants to learn new things.

Whiff

He's the garbage engine. He collects garbage then throws it away at the dump.

He doesn't care what others think of him. He'd rather be himself.

He is optimistic and cheerful.

He wears glasses because his eyesight isn't the best.

His clothes get tattered and dirty easily.

He speaks in a nasally voice and is kind of dorky, but in an admirable way, not an annoying way.

Spencer hates him.

He has skunk ears and skunk tail in his animal form.

[lordvonbunnyv]

Headcanons for my least favorite ttte characters:

Whiff is a huge collector, it’s not uncommon for people to throw out books, toys, clothes, lamps, and kitchen gadgets. Whiff likes to pick them out of the garbage, cleaned, and hung in his shed. He finds “human gadgets” fascinating as engines don’t tend to fully understand human gadgets, but whiff wants to understand them and figure out how they work and what they are for.

Whiff is also one of the few engines who is fully literate. It isn’t uncommon for engines to be illiterate as they don’t need to learn to read or write, stations can be memorized by sight, time tables are often spoken to them, and danger signs are often pretty obvious. Whiff had taught himself to read from the books he pulled out from the trash, his favorite books are surprisingly cookbooks and home improvement magazines. His driver made a simple device for him that will allow him to turn the pages easily and he would spend up to one in the morning reading store catalogs and adding up the prices and making a list of everything he would buy. Recently, he’s gotten into computer magazines and has read about computers for disabled people that they can use moving their eyes, he secretly wishes he has one but they’re too expensive and, well, he’s a steam engine.

[thatstormygeek]

Rufo knew that this fake scandal would hit the right buttons because Claudine Gay is a black woman. The first, in fact, black woman president of Harvard. The public was eager to find any reason to believe that she was a DEI hire. The moment they were given a tiny sniff of that, just the littlest teensy tiny whiff, those torches were lit and those pitchforks came out and literally nobody could explain what they were mad about.

That’s the most infuriating thing about Christopher Rufo. He narrates his own social engineering project from start to finish, presumably to educate his followers about how to distort or manufacture reality to achieve a preferred outcome. Before any one of his schemes he will outline what he’s going to do, discuss it as he’s doing it, and then recap what happened afterward, often to the same media who fell for it. And the media will still take his fucking bait every single time, because in a way he is correct about how it operates. The truth of the matter is largely irrelevant in the case of a big enough story, and the media by and large doesn’t care about the consequences of its reporting. There is some validity to the last part—I think it’s mostly not the media’s job to decide what people should be allowed to know—but in conjunction with the first part you’ve just got a garbage in, garbage out situation that reduces the media to a dangerous irrelevancy at best. ... As I said, his decision to air his entire process publicly in real time is, I believe, a gambit that showing enough equally insidious shitstains like himself how it’s done will pay off better in the long run than the risk that too many people in the media will wake up to it. This gambit is based on the unfortunately correct assumption that, when he waves his bullshit in front of them, the media will react in the same way as Chip ‘n Dale’s Monterey Jack when he sees a lump of cheese, no matter how many times this has gotten him injured or captured or put other people in mortal danger. ... Before I go on, I want to really hammer this home: Christopher Rufo bragged very loudly and very clearly about what he had done. He bragged to the same media that he had tricked a second time about how, precisely, he had tricked them. He told them very explicitly that this was not actually about plagiarism, it was about the campus protests. The media covered the story of their own humiliation as eagerly as they had covered the initial story, like the masochists that they are.

He knows that transgender is a distinct concept from drag, most drag queens are not transgender or identify as women outside of performance, and most drag isn’t stripping. The truth is not consequential to the desired outcome, which is to ban or outlaw drag, which he desires because of his thoughts on cultural rot or degeneracy or RETVRN or whatever. He knows most people don’t care about his preferences enough to try to ban a harmless form of artistic expression but he also feels his preferences are superior and that overrules what most people think. If society at large doesn’t choose his preferences willingly, it must be engineered into it by lying repeatedly and consistently about terms like ‘transgender’ and ‘drag’ and hoping the volume of outrage will drown out the corrections. He says it outright: He figures people on average are more upset about transgender people than they are about men performing in dresses, so conservatives should lie and insist the concepts are interchangeable, and once that’s done, drive it home by manufacturing an inseparable connection between all these things and child sexual abuse. ... Basically, to undercut and undermine racial diversity projects, he needed a phrase that meant something similar to “political correctness” but that sounded more sinister and more academic—much the same process that brought the phrase “cultural Marxism” into mainstream conservative lexicon. He dug deep into race studies literature and found a real phrase, “critical race theory,” that he thought had the right sound to it. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t what that phrase meant! That’s irrelevant! Anyone who wants to fact check him only needs to go so far as to look at some race studies literature themselves and see that the phrase does in fact exist. It’s basically the same concept as pointing to a synagogue and saying “I bet that’s full of Jews plotting to take over the world,” and if someone doubts you, then you need only invite them to look through the window and confirm that it is, in fact, full of Jews. It’s absurd, and it works.

[hunty627]

Here’s the script for Rocket Love.

One day, I was at the recycling plant with Whiff the garbage engine & Scruff the scruncher. We were organizing all the recyclable materials, which were paper, glass, plastic, metal and wood. When suddenly I saw a little pink toy rocket ship was on the conveyor belt! Quickly thinking, I grabbed it and saved it just in time. After I took it home with me, Tinker Bell made the toy Rocket ship come to life and grow up to be 7 years old! It was a female rocket ship and I named her Rockette. She took a liking to me and she chimed to say thank you for saving me from being melted down. After I gave her some gadgets, Rockette and I flew to meet up with the Little Einsteins. They were outside playing a game of hopscotch. I kindly introduced them to Rockette. Then Leo noticed Rocket was blushing and his headlights were shaped like hearts. He had fallen in love with Rockette. He tried to ask her out, but she used her Grab-Nabber to slap Rocket across his cheek and she flew away, carrying me in her flight deck. Rocket felt hurt. So Leo, Annie, Quincy and June agreed to help Rocket win her heart. So they climbed aboard and blasted off on their mission. Meanwhile, Rockette and I were at the tulip fields in the Netherlands. She wanted to smell the flowers. She even smelled baby tulip. Back with the team, Rocket was making up a song to sing to Rockette and declare his love for her. Annie helped by making up words for the song. Quincy suggested Rocket needed to have his red paint polished. So they polished his paintwork. Now he was shining like a polished Ruby. Back with me and Rockette, she was showing some elegant flying tricks. I was quite impressed. But I was still thinking about why she slapped Rocket. But then, I realized the answer. So, I contacted Leo and told him and his team that I figured out why Rockette slapped Rocket. It’s because she is in love with me since I saved her from being melted down in the recycle plant. So, I decided to talk to her. As for Leo, he and his team took Rocket to a flower shop in Dallas, Texas. After he got a bouquet of flowers, Rocket was even more desperate to make Rockette love him. Knowing that this was a love emergency, Leo pressed the super fast button and Rocket went super fast to get to where Rockette and I were. And that’s Los Angeles, California. I spoke to Rockette and told her that I am a human and she is a rocket ship. And that we can’t be a couple because it isn’t normal for man and machine to be a couple. Rockette thought about this, and then she began crying. She said she was sorry to me. And I told her that there’s someone who is definitely willing to love her. At that moment, Rocket landed. And he showed Rockette the flowers and he even sang his love song. Rockette blushed and she and Rocket shared true love’s kiss for the very first time. Everyone cheered. And I told Rockette that even though she’s now Rocket’s girl, I’ll always love her as a friend. And she was ok with it. After that, we got on board and went flying together. Then Rockette found her old home. It was Emerald Acres Hotel in Tonopah, Nevada. When we landed, a school bus arrived and out came a girl named Ellen. She was amazed to see Rockette was big and had returned to her. And we all had a party at the hotel to welcome Ellen and Rockette to the Little Einsteins team. And it was the best party ever. Actually…actually it was! And Leo happily said “Mission completion!” The end.

[rygoespop]

Thomas and Friends: Tales from Sodor (Story 56): The Sodor Storm

Scene opens to a bright sunny day on the Island of Sodor, Thomas was pulling Annie and Clarabel as he blew his whistle to greet Duck, who is pulling Mail Cars, in which Duck whistled back

Narrator: It was a beautiful sunny day on the Island of Sodor! The engines are working hard, delivering passengers and freight

Scene transitions to Diesel 10 and Diesel, both at the Wastedump as their punishment

Narrator: And sometimes, they do odd jobs

Diesel 10: *lifting Garbage with Pinchy and loading it in SCruffey* Ugh, why did we get punished?

Diesel: Beats me, but we'll try again!

Suddenly garbage dropped on Diesel 10

Diesel 10: Raaauuughh!!!! *his roar echoed*

Scene transitions to Thomas puffing down the line, until something unexpected

Gina: Ciao Thomas!

Thomas: Hello Gina! *stops as he realizes* Gina?! *he puffs backwards looking surprised* Gina? What are you doing here on Sodor?

Gina: Well Thomas, Sir Topham Hatt contact my Controller, the Italian Controller about me helping you and the others on Sodor!

Thomas: Well, how nice! Come on Gina, let's go! *he blew his whistle as he puffs to Knapford*

Gina: Coming Thomas! *she blew her whistle and follows Thomas*

Camera pans up and the Title Card came

Narrator: The Sodor Storm

Scene transitions to Thomas arriving at Knapford

Thomas: Hello everyone! You won't believe who is here?

Percy: Is it Hiro?

Thomas: No! It's someone from the Sodor Cup!

Gina: *puffs in and blew her whistle* Ciao everyone!

Percy/Gordon/James/Emily/Rosie: Gina?!

Gina: Hello everyone! I'm back to help you all out! Your Controller made arrangements with the Italian Controller for me to help you out on Sodor!

James: How nice of you

Rosie: I'm surprised you came to visit us!

Gina: Yes Rosie, I'm here not only visiting, but to help to!

Scene transitions to Harold flying across the sky

Narrator: Meanwhile, Harold is doing his usual sky patrol

Harold: *sees Jeremy fly by* Good morning Jeremy!

Jeremy: Morning Harold! Sorry can't stop, I got passengers to take to the Airport!

Harold chuckled, but his chuckles stopped until he sees rain clouds forming, with thunder crashing

Harold: Oh my! I got to alert the Rescue Team and Sir Topham Hatt!

Meanwhile, at Sir Topham Hatt's Office in Knapford

Sir Topham Hatt: Oh boy, lunch time! *he gets ready to eat a Sandwich*

Until the Telephone rang

Sir Topham Hatt: *he puts his Sandwich down and answers the Telephone* Hello? The Rescue Team?! I'll be right there!

Scene transitions to Sir Topham Hatt arriving at the Rescue Center, on Winston

Winston: *going a bit bumpy* Sorry Sir! It's those mornings!

Sir Topham Hatt: It's all fine Winston

The Rescue Center Manager: *clears his throat*

Sir Topham Hatt: Oh right! What is it my good man?

Rescue Center Manager: Come inside! Harold told me that there are Rain Clouds forming!

Both the Manager and Sir Topham Hatt enter the building and they see Heavy Rain Clouds forming

Sir Topham Hatt: Ooh dear, I got to get a meeting of Engines at Knapford at once!

Scene transitions to Thomas puffing down the line with Gina

BoCo: *honks his horn* Thomas! You and Gina have to come to Knapford right away! Sir Topham Hatt has an emergency meeting!

Thomas: R-right! Come on Gina!

Gina: But Thomas, what's going-

Thomas: No time to explain! *he puffs off to Knapford*

Gina: R-right! *she follows Thomas*

Scene transitions to Knapford, all the Steam Team Members (Thomas, Edward, Henry, Gordon, James, Percy, Toby, Emily, Molly, and Rosie), as well as Gina, BoCo, Philip, Paxton, Whiff, Scruff, Dennis, evenly Diesel and Diesel 10 showed up

Sir Topham Hatt: Thank you all for coming here! Now it has came to my attention, when I came to the Rescue Center, I was informed about a Huge Storm coming!

All the engines gasped

Sir Topham Hatt: So it's best that you call get your jobs done by tonight!

All the Engines (Except Diesel and Diesel 10): Yes sir!

Scene transitions to Vicarstown Bridge, it was up, as Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane were set to return home to The Mainland

Narrator: Meanwhile at the Vicarstown Draw Bridge

Hurricane: *impatiently blew his whistle* Hurry up! Frankie, Lexi, Theo, and Merlin are gonna think I've been gone to long!

Suddenly, the bridge broke, it was stuck being up, unable to move, trapping Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane on Sodor

The Bridge Operator: Oh no! The Bridge is broken! It's stuck! I can't lower it!

Connor/Caitlin/Hurricane: *groan in disappointment*

Caitlin: Now we can't make it home

Connor: Fear not Caitlin, I'm sure Sir Topham Hatt wouldn't mind if we work on his Railway temporarily

Caitlin: Right, you are right Connor

Scene transitions to the other engines hurrying with their jobs as the storm is on its way

Narrator: Later the day, the engines worked hard to finish their jobs, until Thomas was surprised to see three more engines

Hurricane: *puffing in* Hello Thomas

Thomas: Hurricane? Connor and Caitlin?! What are you three doing here?!

Connor: Well Thomas, we were about to head home to The Mainland, but drawbridge got stuck upwards and it broke

Caitlin: Now, we are stuck on Sodor until it's fixed

Sir Topham Hatt: *walks up* Oh not again with the Vicarstown Drawbridge! I'll have to inform the Vicarstown Maintenance Crew for repairs

Hurricane: Excuse me sir! I hope you don't mind if the three of us temporarily work on your Railway

Sir Topham Hatt: Not a bad idea Hurricane, I'll inform The Mainland Controller! *he heads back to his Office*

Gina: *puffs in as she blew her whistle* Oh Thomas, there you are! We got to- *sees Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane* Oh! Hello there!

Hurricane: Hello! Your not from Sodor or The Mainland are you?

Gina: No! I'm not!

Caitlin: Thomas, can you tell us?

Thomas: Oh! Gina, meet Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane! Guys, meet Gina, a friend of mine from Italy!

Connor: Italy eh? Oooooh!

Gina: Y-yes! It is a nice country to visit!

Thomas: Not to mention, she came to Sodor with the other International Engines from Around the World to compete in The Sodor Cup

Connor: The Sodor Cup?

Caitlin: Ooooh! Can we join too?

Thomas: Sorry Connor and Caitlin, but it's over!

Connor: Doh!

Thomas: But if do another one, then maybe!

Caitlin: Sounds fair

Thomas: Well, we all better hurry with our jobs! The storm is coming!

Gina/Connor/Caitlin/Hurricane: Right!

Thomas, Gina, Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane all blew their whistles and proceed to finish their jobs

Connor: Hey Caitlin, race you to Ulfstead!

Caitlin: Your on! *she and Connor race through*

Scene transitions to later that day, as Storm Clouds finally formed

Narrator: Later that day, all the engines finished their jobs, and they all taken shelter for the night

Scene transitions to the 9 Members of the Steam Team (Thomas, Edward, Henry, Gordon, James, Percy, Emily, Molly, and Rosie) all in their berths at Tidmouth Sheds, Toby in his Shed at Arlesdale End, Connor, Caitlin, and Gina all at The Steamworks, Hurricane in a Shed at Ffarquhar Quarry, Diesel and Diesel 10 in a Shed at The Wastedump, across from another shed where Whiff and Scruff are at, followed by BoCo and Philip at Wellsworth Sheds, evenly Salty and Porter at Brendam Docks

Narrator: Soon, all the engines reached to safety, as the Storm finally begins

The Rain poured heavily, as a huge gust of wind began to destroy roofs off of buildings, knock down telephone poles, tipped over a Water Tower, knock down trees, and more to follow

Narrator: The next morning, after the Storm cleared, Thomas surveyed the destruction caused by the storm

Thomas puffs out of his berth and began to surveyed all the destruction caused by the storm

Thomas: Cinders and Ashes...

Scene transitions to Knapford Station, where The Steam Team, along with Gina, Connor, Caitlin, and Hurricane were there, Sir Topham Hatt was there

Narrator: Later, the engines came to Knapford

Sir Topham Hatt: This storm has caused Confusion and Delay! So, you all have to be really useful to get this island mended!

All: Yes sir!

Sir Topham Hatt: I'll call Ms. Jenny to have Jack and his Team help out, Sodor must be cleaned at once!

Camera pans up to the sky, as the Scene cuts to black

To be continued

Story End

[jaketrains]

Thomas & Friends: All Engines Go: Season 2 (2022)

(Characters)

Thomas the Tank Engine

Edward the Blue Engine (Does Not Speak and Cameo)

Henry the Green Engine (Does Not Speak and Cameo)

Gordon the Big Engine

James the Red Engine

Percy the Small Engine

Emily the Emerald Engine

Nia the Kenya Engine

Devious Diesel

Kana the Electric Engine

Carly the Crane Engine

Sandy the Rail Speeder

Hiro the Japan Engine

Kenji the Electric Engine

Cranky the Dockyard Crane

Bulstrode the Barge

Skiff the Sailboat

Ultratrain

Trainiac

Annie and Clarabel

Troublesome Trucks

Riff and Jiff

Farona and Frederico

Harold the Helicopter

Yong Bao the China Engine

Sir Topham Hatt

Farmer McColl (Does Not Speak and Cameo)

The Purple Tender Engine (Cameo)

The Wayland Stationmaster (Cameo)

Characters Introduced

Toby the Tram Engine

Bruno

The Green Crane

Salty the Dockyard

Beresford

Paxton

Whiff the Garbage Engine

Darcy the Driller

Ashima the India Engine

Shane the Australia Engine

[harcourtholmesii]

In This Here, Beautiful World... (Part 1)

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Pairings: Medic X Heavy / Scout X Miss Pauling / Scout’s Ma X Spy / Soldier X Zhanna / Engineer X Original Character / Saxton Hale X Maggie

Warnings: - Swearing - Physical Abuse and Violence - Verbal Abuse - Minor Gore - Implied Death

Words: 1913

Summary: When the world goes to shit, in order to survive, you need to be ruthless, and you need to be prepared to do whatever it takes. When nine strangers and their families come together to fight back the zombie plague, tensions will rise between them all, threatening to pull them apart and kill them from the inside-out. It’s a shitty summary, I know. ^^

Enjoy!

‘Hey! Yo! I got a delivery here for a Mister Brookes!’

 Jeremy hammered his fist against the door, louder than the first time. He had been standing out here for a good twenty minutes, waiting for this douchebag to open the door. The boss would kill him if he returned with cold pizza or if he got a call from the tenant saying he never received the order.

 Jeremy shifted from foot to foot, his sneakers squeaking lightly against the cracked linoleum floor. He couldn’t just wait here forever! He was already running behind schedule and he needed the money!

 He pounded his fist against the door again; a neighbour poked her careworn face out her door to peer at the disturbance.

 ‘D-Do you mind keeping it down, young man?’

 ‘I wouldn’t have to be loud if this guy would just open the door!’ He continued to pound his fist, hearing how the hinges whined under his abuse.

 The old lady shut her door when it became obvious he wouldn’t stop. For a moment, the thought came to Jeremy’s mind that she might be calling the cops. He wouldn’t stay here anymore if that was the case, and he sure as shit wasn’t leaving a perfectly good pizza on this ungrateful dick’s doorstep.

 He stomped down the hall, passing by the old lady’s door. He could hear her speaking to someone on the inside, but he didn’t stop to wait for the sound of sirens. It wasn’t like he was trying to disturb the peace; he just wanted some fucking tips!

 He leapt onto the railing of the stairwell, letting his weight skirt him down the metal of the banister. He whipped down one flight, and then another, until his feet planted themselves firmly on the first floor. He pushed the glass doors out of his way, the frame cracking loudly against the brick of the building.

 He trotted down the stairs, looking about left and right for some dumpster. Instead, the sight of an older man pushing a small trolley of garbage bags and raggedy clothes caught his eye. Jeremy felt the anger lessen, if only a little. He hated seeing people roaming the streets like this, without a home or place to go to. Filthy rich dickheads and politicians wouldn’t spare a single coin to them and it made him sick.

 He approached and simply cleared his throat to get the scraggly man’s attention. He couldn’t see his eyes beneath the unwashed hair, but as he offered the pizza pie to him, those hands shook excitedly, reaching out and taking it with hesitance. Those tanned hands opened up the box, the smell of melted cheese and cooked meat wafting into the air.

 ‘T-Thank you…’ Jeremy just nodded, offering him a lazy wave of ‘don’t worry about it’. He took off at full sprint down the street, leaving behind the apartment and the man in his dust. He had to be quick back to the restaurant, so his manager wouldn’t get pissy.

 He ran at great speed down the bustling city streets, dodging about those that got in his path. Families, businessmen and construction workers had little time to part ways for him. He compensated for their lack of awareness by leaping over the guard railings, jumping the hoods of stationary traffic and racing through the wavering legs of scaffolding. He got the odd call from some of the workers, but it had become a common enough practice, Jeremy was almost ignored by bystanders.

 The wind whipped his hair and face, threatening to throw the delivery cap off his head. Finally, he rounded a corner and into the shop, in time to see his boss glowering from across the counter.

 ‘You’re late.’

 ‘Yeah.’ He muttered, replacing the empty pack onto the shelf. He threw himself into compiling the list of orders and strangling his waist with a rubber apron. ‘I know. I know. Guy wasn’t home or was ignorin’ me. I tried!’

 ‘So what happened to the order?’

 He hated the shakedown. This was not the first time that Jeremy had arrived back to the store, hands empty of payment.

 ‘I just left it on the doorstep.’

 ‘Are you kidding me, Jeremy?’ The boy rolled his eyes, roughly taking the pizza cutter and beginning his work on dividing the pie apart. A fly buzzed in his ear, which he swatted away in disgust. ‘You know to wait for the customer to open the door!’

 ‘I woulda been there the whole fuckin’ afternoon!’ He barked back, cutting into the pizza harder than he meant to. The box splintered beneath the pressure and the blade near sliced his fingers. He slammed the lid down, and started upon the next one.

 ‘Did you call them?’

 ‘The phone’s been broke’ for a while now! I can’t call them with that garbage!’ He was lucky that this place had been so lax with language. He and the manager often shared bouts of abuse, but it made it easier to adapt. Instead of shutting his lips, he could hurl curses back at the useless prick behind the counter. He knew it tested the man’s patience, and certainly didn’t encourage the man to keep him around, but he put in the effort. And the man couldn’t deny that he was the best delivery boy he had, not to mention the only one.

 ‘You keep this shit up, Jeremy, and you’ll be outta here faster than your mother can pump out another brat!’

 Oh, now that was too far!

 Jeremy could take this shit when it was aimed at him, but at his family, at his ma specifically, he wouldn’t stand for it. He didn’t even want to work at this shitty pizza place anyway!

 He threw off the smock, tossing the prepared pizzas across the steel table and at his ex-manager. He leapt over it, and with hands clenched, hit him once across the nose. There was the spatter of blood and the satisfying crack of cartilage, as the man was sent reeling back and into the tubs of sauce.

 Barbecue, crème fraiche and tomato sauce went flying all about, coating the man head to toe in the expired spreads. Jeremy tore his shirt as he ripped his nametag off and tossed it into the dickhead’s shocked face. Guess he hadn’t been expecting someone like Jeremy to fight back.

 Jeremy may have been scrawnier than his brothers, but he was fast, and more than a little anger fuelled his strength. He leaned down on the tile, gripping the man’s collar tight and lifting up the mess just enough that they nearly met nose-to-nose.

 ‘Don’t you ever talk about my ma again! You even look in her direction, even get one whiff of her perfume, and you’ll lose those nuts of yours, you got that?!’ He dropped the shaking mess of a manager back into the sea of red, white and brown.

 Then Jeremy stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

 He didn’t run off like he had done to get to the restaurant. He took his time, instead, to simmer down. He didn’t want his ma to see him like this. He knew she’d be disappointed that he lost another job, and he couldn’t just tell her what that dickhead had said. He just hoped she would forgive him for being so brash.

 He passed by a number of stores, all at various points of shutting down for the afternoon or for good. Graffiti created a continuous line for him to follow along; signatures, doodles and even grand pieces of street art provided a guide as to his location, wherever he was in the city. An electronics store was still playing the local news as he passed it by, detailing some local flu hotspots, and an old music shop had been packed up into several wooden boxes.

 The townhouse he lived in with his ma was at the end of a long street, between two apartment buildings that crammed it tightly between them. It appeared as if squashed by the neighbouring buildings; three storeys tall, with a pair of windows to each floor. It was an icky cream colour, with a small rooftop garden that had two lines of wet clothes waving about in the breeze.

 Jeremy plucked a key from beneath the mat and entered inside. The lights were on, and he could hear in the room to his left their old, junk box playing some fitness program. He sighed, feeling his shoulders sag as he attempted to release his fuming breath and calm himself before he met his ma.

 She spoke first when he entered the living room.

 ‘You’re home early.’

 She pulled herself back up from a stretch, turning to offer him the warmest smile he ever did see. He stuttered with apologies, attempting to tell her what happened without mentioning what that asshole had said. She just fluttered her hand, as if shooing away his discomfort and his excuses, rounding the old couch and bringing him into a hug.

 He relaxed immediately, returning the affection with a tight squeeze.

 ‘I’m sorry.’

 ‘Don’t be. You can always find another job; one much more suitable for the fine, young man you are.’ She said. His ma always knew exactly what to say. ‘I couldn’t be more proud of my boy. You held out for six months, Jeremy. You blew your last record right out of the water!’

 He huffed a breath of laughter, the only sound he could manage with all this praise. He knew, through the smile and the gentle words, that his ma was a little bit upset. He needed a job; just so he could support her as his brothers did, if not just himself. Her work as a pre-school teacher had been able to keep them all above water, but the old townhouse was falling apart without the necessary care.

 His two eldest brothers, Mark and Kieran, had left about a year ago; both of them attempting to pursue some apprenticeships in engineering and hospitality. The third oldest, his brother Blake, had been talking with their ma recently about moving in with his girlfriend out of state.

 Lucas, Julien and Oliver had stayed in school, but hadn’t gotten the grades to gain any kind of scholarship. They were still at work, no doubt, doing more than Jeremy ever could. They could put up with the bullshit demands of customers, and the abuse from their managers. But this was the third job that Jeremy had left behind this year alone.

 ‘Why don’t you come sit down, and you can tell me what really happened?’ She kissed his cheek and guided him to the lounge. The fitness program was switched to the news, but turned down until the broadcast was a mere mutter.

 Jeremy felt embarrassed to say much to her, but he knew that his ma wanted to hear what he had to say. As he spoke, detailing the list of demands he had suffered through that day, the news station switched headlines. Unbeknownst to Jeremy or his ma, a fast-acting viral infection was rapidly spreading through several different hotspots across the city. If they had been paying any mind, they would have seen the havoc being caused from the crappy cellphone footage.

 They only noticed when a scream radiated from the television, the one recording the chaos suddenly on the ground.

 Another, sickly man, had his face buried deep into his intestines.

[lancetrain]

Thomas advent calendar: day 8 (belated) Character: Whiff Theme: classic Type: NER 2-2-4T Whiff is the garbage engine who takes garbage to the dump which is called: “Whiff’s waste dump”. This of course makes him very smelly, hence why he’s called Whiff. He works with a “scruncher” named Scruff and does his work on time. In my head cannon, Whiff used to travel to misty island until the railway decided to block the tunnel due to the hazardous conditions on misty island. Later he was sold off to pay for the construction of the North Western Railway. Eventually Sir Topham Hart decided to bring him back. #thomasandfriendsminis #thomasandfriends #taf #thomasthetankengine #ttte #whiff https://www.instagram.com/p/CXSUQELF6pZ/?utm_medium=tumblr

[www-islandofsodor]

Good afternoon fellow Sudrians. ‘Tis I, your favorite admin, ready to list off some possible remakes of the Sharon Miller era. As many of us fans will know, this era was both dull and bad.  I previously stated in a post/video detailing some of the best and worst episodes of this era. Not only will be replacing the absolute worst episodes with those of the fan series’, I’ll be subbing Thomas’ role in a majority of said  aforementioned era with other characters; particularly those who haven’t been brought into full CGI yet.

I also had made a list of every possible season 9-11 and a few season 12 episodes in which different characters are subbed in instead of Thomas. Now, I’ll be taking a look at the obscure episodes of the Sharon Miller era doing the exact same thing. Below are the re-scripted episodes listed in no particular order nor season because let’s be honest, they blend together at this point.

Buzzy Bees [with James in place of Thomas]

Emily’s Garbage Train [with Emily in place of Thomas]

Porter in Charge [with Porter, Neville, and Arthur in place of Thomas, Percy, & Mavis]

The Sounds of Sodor [With Rusty and the narrow gauge engines in place of Thomas and the others]

Big Belle [with Toby’s personality heavily edited]

Toby’s New Whistle [with Toby’s personality heavily edited]

Kevin Takes Charge (Formerly Steamy Sodor)

Emily & Scruff (Formerly Thomas and Scruff)

Molly the Hero (Formerly Edward the Hero)

Paxton’s Proudest Moment (Formerly Diesel’s Special Delivery)

O the Indignity [With Whiff and Gordon domineering their original roles]

Emily’s Christmas Cavalcade [title edited for obvious reasons]

Flash Bang Wallop! [With James in place of Thomas]

Express Coming Through! [With Henry in place of Thomas]

[go-hux-yourself]

Hard Reset

My first Kylux fic out! FINALLY. And of course we’re in omegaverse territory haha. The narrative is all over the place in my opinion but hey, what’s plot when we all know what we’re really here for?

This goes out to @thethespacecoyote, my enabler in all things tasty and garbage (ilu hahaha)

Also on my ao3 here :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.

--

“You seriously didn’t think to inform me about this?”

Ren studied the way the agitated general’s skin had gone flush, almost shining from the manner in which he’d begun to sweat inside the ancient console room. A pinkness starting in his cheeks and spreading down the other man’s neck was in complaint of sensitivity to the blooming flora, if not consequence of sunburn from their trekking to even get to this old outpost.

Truly he’d never suspect the general’s complaints to be over flowers of all things when it was the rebels that made this dropdown necessary. It figured that Hux was literally more-suited to an artificial life on a star destroyer, the simple realities of being planet-side clearly not agreeing with him. Ren found it annoyingly inefficient that this was a task the other man couldn’t have delegated to some nameless engineer in his stead.

Of course the general-- in his pressed uniform and carefully arranged hair- wasn’t suited to trekking through the deserts, jungles, or swamps that Ren himself regularly journeyed in his missions. It made the other man weak, in his opinion.

Or rather, intolerable.

“It’s none of my concern if you suffer from allergies, General,” Ren brushed-off, the area boringly secured, his task in this mission completed without incident and waiting for Hux to do his part.

“This is not allergies you incompetant--” Hux bit his tongue over a swell of fury born of the embers of lust quickly fanning his blood. Hux’s glare was locked on Ren’s own as the alpha gave him a look that dared him to complete his insult. They didn’t have time for paltry words. The clock was already ticking. “I’m going into heat.”

Ren looked at him blankly for a few moments, and Hux rolled his eyes at him, muttering something about the alpha being childish to undermine him in this way, that Ren succinctly ignored.

“Heat.”

“Yes, Ren. Heat.”

“That’s impossible.”

“As you’ve neglected to inform me of the bloom warning in effect for this planet, I assure you it’s quite--”

“That only affects omegas,” the alpha stated dumbly, as if Hux were a simpleton.

Hux gave him a look as if he were mad. Ren gave it right back. Again, Hux felt a hot swell of what he presumed to be anger or annoyance-- or most likely both where the other man was concerned- wash over the back of his neck. His uniform began to feel stifling. “What part of this are you not understanding?”

The moment that Ren connected what Hux was saying with what he meant became apparent on the alpha’s face as he gave the general a disbelieving look, staring at him silently.

Under any other circumstances, Hux might’ve been amused. Perhaps even mildly flattered to not be taken for what he was, and all that implied. Whether Ren had truly not known, or just didn’t care to, hardly concerned him, but to not be associated with the weaknesses of his kind pleased the omega general.

Which, in this moment, was another kind of particular danger.

Hux’s voice was probably more smug than it should have been, given his current position, but Ren was avoiding his eyes now, and it was some small victory he wanted to savor before his mind was reduced to blubbering sheer instinct. “You never noticed?”

“The endotypes of others hardly concerns me,” Ren quickly deflected, keeping his distance as his eyes observed the other man through a new lens; Hux’s flushed skin, the shine of light sweat as his temperature rose, the scent he began to get whiffs of. Hux was an omega, and the local flora was wreaking havoc on his body, and no matter how he looked at it, this was definitely his fault. “Only their competence or lack thereof.”

Hux found himself to be of the same sentiment to be perfectly honest, though it was hard to separate the meathead-alpha stereotype from the identity of the man who regularly destroyed his ship standing in front of him. Even if he considered it classic alpha-arrogance to have not compiled an all-inclusive report of even minorly ‘unimportant’ things, the body language of the other man alone was enough to show honest contrition at such an important mistake.

It was something Hux found, at least, to know that all their antagonistic years spent working together wasn’t steeped in unnecessary judgment from his own designation. Though that of course meant Ren’s antagonism towards Hux was founded in personal dislike-- or stars forbid- that he found Hux’s commanding of his ship to be incompetent enough to deride him ...though not by any fault of his being an omega.

Whether it was the damn pollen or his own sense of pride, Hux chose to file that concern away to fight with the man about later. If anyone was to be accused of being incompetent here, it was the fool of an alpha who let him land on a planet in the midst of an omega-bloom without proper bio-precautions being taken.

Hux didn’t need to voice such an opinion, as the quick-glances and downcast looks away from his person bespoke Ren’s own culpability, and furthermore, his awareness of what was happening to Hux. He could feel the fever taking him over little by little, aware of the way Ren’s own alpha-musk was pleasurably pulled in through his nostrils, and he understood he’d have very little coherence left in tens of minutes at best.

It left very little time to strategize, though there were really only two options available. It was lucky, then, that his personal preference aligned with the more-efficient choice.

“Well, Ren, here we find ourselves in the conditions of your own making with a time-constraint that will end favorably for the rebels if we don’t solve this.”

“I did no--”

“It hardly matters now that you didn’t know I was an omega,” Hux huffed, his patience thinning even at the confused, almost-guilty disbelief on the other man’s face as Ren most certainly could smell the proof of what Hux was. His uniform felt stuffy, skin overly-hot, and his mind kept getting distracted by thoughts he maybe only indulged in after a tumbler of whiskey and a particularly trying shift. He tore his gaze from the larger man, considering their options. “The fact of the matter is, I am, and I need to fix that beacon and have our forces coordinate to move out as soon as possible.”

He was beginning to breath harder, and his pulse was coming faster. He undid the buttons at his collar to alleviate some of the heat trapped within. It didn’t escape his notice the way Ren’s nostrils flared, or how the alpha quickly turned away to hide a face that was red with the knowledge of something it liked.

Hux preened a little at that, flattered and calculating; well that would certainly help.

“How long will it take?” the alpha asked, still turned away from Hux’s own form. The other man’s scent was beginning to fill the old control room, and though Ren clenched his fists and tried to find a calm center, there was no blocking the needy scent Hux’s body was putting out… Nor ignoring just how much he liked it.

“The repair should take two-hours, perhaps less,” Hux spoke, undoing further buttons that allowed cooler air to kiss his flushed skin. Pleasant goosebumps rose on his arms at the minor relief, and he felt a craving for more. He was shrugging his outer dress-uniform shirt off before it even occurred to him, eyes keen on Ren’s turned back. Hux could feel his nipples hardening with the quick temperature change, and he bit his lower lip, savoring the feeling before remembering that he was definitely drifting into heat-brain.

Cock already hardening in his pants, Ren realized just how grave a mistake his miscalculation here had been. He’d never assumed someone like Hux could smell so good, let alone have this kind of effect on his well-trained body. And an omega to boot? This wasn’t a scent oft-encountered on the ship. People took inhibitors or time-off to deal with their cycles in a very orderly and efficient manner as dictated by First Order practice. An unexpected heat simply wasn’t a thing.

...Unless Hux’s own co-commander was an idiot of an alpha who’d exposed him to an omega-bloom without a second thought.

Ren deserved the discomfort of a willful erection for the time it took Hux’s body to metabolize the effects of the plants. It was a suitable punishment, as well as an exercise in control, and one he surely wouldn’t forget. “And you can hold off for that long?”

A puff of a laugh made Ren turn, and the alpha felt a lump form in his throat. Hux had removed his outer jacket, pale skin flushed pink and dog-tags worn over a black regulation tank bared to Ren’s eyes. It was the most casual he’d perhaps ever seen the other man-- even if Hux still kept himself at parade rest, watching him a little too-sharply- and it threw Ren straight into fantasy and wordless silence.

Hux exhaled sharply through his nostrils, his own observations concerning the alpha moving away from his failings and more towards his more amiable attributes. “The effects of the pollen either needs to be properly metabolised, or a hard-reset to the endocrine system to invalidate its effects. We do not have the twelve hours it would take to wait this out. The chemical imbalance causing a false heat requires a… flushing out.”

Ren’s mouth went dry. Hux couldn’t possibly be insinuating what Ren was thinking, as the alpha knew his own thoughts were straying due to the general’s scent pervading his every inhalation. Hux was... maybe trying to diplomatically inform him that he’d need some private time? “So you’re just gonna…?” He felt stupid making even a slight pass of his hand in gesture, understanding relief would reset the other man-- and further shocked that they were even having this conversation- but here they were.

Hux laughed again, and the sound almost made Ren lose the force-hold he was keeping his own hard-on contained with. These were new experiences with the general, and Ren found himself intrigued by every one. His laugh, his scent, his humanity when dressed down and wanting-- even when that want was the effect of plant-life and not particularly born of desire for him- it was captivating. Ren was sure Hux would laugh at his own want for the omega, but he didn’t care.

Hux was already tenting his own pants as far as Ren could tell-- in his efforts to not look, anyways- but it wouldn’t be nearly as easy to ignore Ren’s own alpha cock if he lost his control on fantasies of trailing his fingers over that pale skin, or dragging his nose up his throat.

Hux met Ren’s eyes, the request bald on his face. “For that to work, it has to be from an alpha.”

Ren frowned as he simultaneously blushed at the idea of getting the other man off. That’s what he meant, right? That he couldn’t just quickly jerk himself back to clarity, but an alpha had to do it?

That logic hardly seemed sound, and his expression must have communicated that because again came that soft laugh-- and when had Hux ever laughed like that before?- and the omega general brushed it off with far more good humor that Ren thought he himself was capable of at that moment.

“The hard-reset requires biological-agent from an alpha to register. I can’t trigger it on my own, no matter how enthusiastic.” Hux honestly couldn’t help the smirk on his face. The situation they were in was poetically funny, and the more he felt his body taken over by familiar heat-indicators-- false-heat or not- the more-amusing and less-annoying he found their predicament.

It helped, of course, that aside from the exasperating personality, Ren fit the more physical-aspects which Hux’s taste in alphas tended to skew; bigger than him, broad, and a bit too full of himself, undeniably male in scent and demeanor who could probably match his own stamina. He’d wondered more than once what it might be like to be manhandled by Ren’s large hands, or to press his nose into the other man’s neck to get a better scent on the one Ren was currently giving off in response to his own heat-pheromones.

Hux knew what needed to be done, and there was no reason to necessarily fight the impulse so long as Ren was willing. To be honest, Hux wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of their coupling anyways, as there had always been something curious about his co-commander that only direct-involvement would satisfy. Ren was powerful, most certainly passionate by definition of sheer wanton destruction. It appealed to him in every way privately that he professionally loathed. Something he wanted to taste at least once to be fully informed. Hux would press his advantage.

It was easier in some ways to have this conversation than some of their heated exchanges on the bridge. He knew what he needed in order to stay on schedule with their plans. This was a necessity, and therefore nothing to be ashamed about proposing, should anyone ever discuss. Hux’s voice was earnest, looking the other man in the face with expectation of easy cooperation. “You have to fuck me, Ren.”

“...I have to do no such thing.” Ren’s words sounded weak and pitiful even to his own ears. There was no part of his body that didn’t want to fuck Hux right now. There was so much bare, pale skin on display just waiting to be marked up, and the general looked so different-- so much more delicate in his tank that showed off collarbones- that Ren could almost feel the texture between his teeth.

He could easily drag his nose from Hux’s throat down to his shoulder, suck marks just low enough that the general would be wary for days about anyone catching some wayward glimpse. The general would certainly be walking around with Ren’s reminders littering his skin, if the alpha had his way. Hux looked less imposing with his layers removed, and Ren knew his hands would fit perfectly around that trim waist if the other man pressed himself against him. Having the general beneath him-- atop him?- would be unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Ren quickly turned away again as his thoughts were most certainly being broadcast on his face if the other man’s keen observation of him was any indicator. Hux’s own eyes were becoming glazed with a clear need, and he fidgeted slightly where he stood. So slick. But the thought wasn’t Ren’s own; the barriers around Hux’s mind were coming down. Loudly. The omega general’s own quickly-dwindling control being taken over by observations about the alpha’s own scent and breadth and images of what he was definitely hoping might happen were drawing Ren in like a tractor beam he didn’t want to fight.

The alpha stayed rooted in his spot lest he grab the general by hands or force or both. “...We can alert medical, see if--”

“It took us hours to get through here,” Hux pointed out, though his tone was less antagonistic; Ren forbid himself and his cock of entertaining the thought of Hux’s voice begging him. The plea in the other man’s voice to just give in was clear as day regardless. “The mission has already been compromised enough.”

Ren turned from him again, cock achingly hard and not entirely positive this was something he could-- or wanted to- fight against. Hux, for all his speeches about Ren’s incompetence, and his general distaste for the alpha, was putting off the best scent he’d ever smelled in his life. And moreover, the man wanted him to deal with it. Personally.

He was the only one around who could deal with this, of course, so naturally it would fall to him, yet still... He’d have to watch his back if they did this, as Hux would surely hold it against him once he was back in his right mind. This wasn’t something they could easily just forget and carry on in their usual manner towards one another. His brain told him No, this was not a smart thing to do. He could hold out. Call medical, arrange a drop of inhibitors from a droid or something. Hux would just have to be extra attentive through the repairs and think through the fog in his brain with the help of suppressants.

All Ren’s efforts to stay strong, however, were easily annihilated with a single, softly enunciated word:

“Please.”

He turned back, and Hux was surely at his wits’ end if the hot-faced look and desperation to that utterance was anything to go on. He looked like he was holding himself to the spot on sheer willpower alone, his body language defiantly exposing his longing to indulge with the alpha before him.

It may as well have been begged with desperation for all the effect that one little word had on Ren’s resolve. He’d do this, and he’d do it well, and because he wanted to, he decided, above all. Not just because of duty. He was interested in the other man; dressed down, skin against his own, how he might look or sound taking his knot. The thought made the alpha groan. “We don’t have the time to spare,” Ren stated, and he could see the relief on Hux’s face as it became clear to the other man that the alpha was giving in. He was bolstered by the expression there, much more confident that this was the right course of action.

“Yes, yes there’s no time,” Hux agreed quickly, green eyes shining with heat and want both as he moved towards the other man in triumph. Why was this taking so long? Why were they both still wearing clothing when it was so damnably hot? The solutions to all the general’s problems were all wrapped up neatly in the package of his co-commander, and Hux eagerly wanted to unwrap him. Maybe then he could think straight again.

As Hux’s hands found their way to Ren’s chest, tugging but also flattening in appreciation of the alpha’s breadth, his scent fully enveloped Ren’s senses, and Ren held his hands around that lithe waist to find them fit just how he’d expected. “For the good of the mission,” Ren stated weakly, frankly not giving a single damn about anything that wasn’t more of his hands on more of Hux’s body.

“The Order, yes,” Hux murmured halfheartedly, pulling himself close to fit his nose in Ren’s neck, inhaling with an unapologetic groan of relief that he was getting what he needed, and nothing else took a higher priority.

Ren abandoned all attempts to keep his hard-on suppressed, pulling the other man hard against him and getting a whimpered moan unlike any sound he’d ever heard the general make before. He wanted to see what other sounds he could wring from the prim man, and decided to test the limits Hux would allow in pressing a sucking kiss to the junction of his shoulder and neck, tasting scent and flesh both. It made his belly and cock lurch with want.

“Kriff,” Hux gasped hotly with clear-surprise, his fingers digging into the other man’s tunic. He threw his head to the other side to allow Ren’s mouth more space to work, and the alpha slid one hand down his back to cup his ass through his jodhpurs as the other held him closer to better nip at aroused skin. One taste wasn’t hardly enough for either of them.

Hux’s scent was intoxicating. It had to be some function of the pollen making it more potent, or his own senses extra sensitive to the general’s need because surely no one normally smelled this good. Hux’s scent had never been more clear, more him than Ren could scent at this moment. The man rubbed up against him without shame and Ren worked his thigh between Hux’s legs, wanting everything at once and too greedy to take it slow.

It wasn’t often that Ren delved into the general’s mind; frankly the man’s mental walls were impressive and the rigidity with which he composed himself on the daily also comprised his inner mind. But Ren knew the usual aura of the other man; the constant-planning and plotting, and the ever-ready organization of a brilliant tactical mind. Right now, that was all gone in a single-minded pursuit to satisfy the thing inside him.

Hux was awash in sensation, his only plot being the great goal of getting Ren’s pants off and getting whatever the other man had hard against him inside him. Ren held him as Hux ground himself against his thigh with breathy little sighs. The alpha claimed Hux’s mouth with his own, surprised when the general turned out to be a greedy kisser in turn. He wouldn’t stop to let Ren remove his tunic, nor did Ren necessarily want to break to remove Hux’s own tank.

Hux caught Ren’s bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a growl from the alpha that only made the omega slicker and needier with want.

“Hux, give me a moment,” Ren spoke gruffly, grabbing him by the back of the neck and almost smirking at the indignant expression there; Hux’s fury that the alpha would stop kissing him even to undress them.

Hux surprised him again when he surged forward to nip at Ren’s own neck, his hands busily stripping the alpha with purpose. “Ren,” Hux’s breathy voice came, half plea, half threat, shocking the alpha he was still even this coherent with how good he smelled, “if you aren’t kriffing inside of me soon--”

“I’ll warn you not to threaten me, General,” Ren growled into the other man’s ear, though Hux’s desperation and sigh of Ren’s name proved the warning to be anything but a deterrent. The alpha was pleased despite himself. “Strip.”

If he were of his usual mind, Hux might’ve resented how quickly he jumped to obey that order. His hands clumsily reached for his own belt, shaky and uncoordinated with need as he removed his boots and pants in a messy pile along with his dog tags and tank. The sharp-look he aimed at Ren to make sure the other man was similarly undressing proved unnecessary; the alpha’s tunic lay on the floor at his feet with his belt and cowl, gloves tossed aside and hard-on sticking out obscenely from the front of the leggings that were still on. Hux felt his knees go weak, eyes glued on the prize, and felt the last of his resolve melt as he reached for the other man.

Ren greedily touched and scented the omega, so much pale skin on display he wasn’t quite sure what or where he wanted to kiss and bite and lick first. The general stood only in regulation-black underwear, the material doing very little good as it was sodden with slick and pre-come both, the omega’s cock jutting out from the material creating a wet-spot Ren wanted to drag his mouth over.

The headiness of Hux’s scent was making the alpha nearly dizzy, and the low-growl that escaped him as he slid his hands from Hux’s waist to underneath the material got a moan in response from the general. When he took handfuls of his ass, nose buried in Hux’s neck while the omega clawed at his back, Hux made a sort of strangled whimper as his hips thrust against Ren’s own. The general was panting, whimpering through the aftershocks, and Ren didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know he’d just come.

“How do you like it?” Ren asked, not surrenduring the grip he had on Hux’s asscheeks, but pulling his face from the general’s neck to look into a pleasure-dazed face. It momentarily occurred to him that Hux was right: a simple orgasm wasn’t enough to bring him back, nor to burn the induced-heat out of him. The man’s gaze was locked on him, but eyes wild and glassy with want. He felt guilt again at having exposed his co-commander to this state, but he couldn’t feel too bad as he found the solution to be worth whatever price may follow.

Hux was clinging to him, unable to keep the whine from his voice as he just repeated please, please Ren. He was quite far gone, needy, and his carefully-styled hair was becoming loose with the efforts of their exertions and the heat consuming his every thought.

Ren touched his forehead to Hux’s own, trying to establish some sort of connection with the other man’s own preferences. He was still in there, fully enjoying the ride he’d been thrown into if his thoughts were any indication, and while there were a great many ways the alpha would like to take him, he realized that once stuck together, a coherent-Hux might take issue with perhaps being taken up against a wall, or bent-over the ancient terminal needing their attention. He wanted to act accordingly.

“Hux,” Ren spoke softly, and they looked one-another in the eyes-- glassy green to bottomless black fathoms- and Ren tried to latch on to that quick flash of awareness to chase it to some form of communication. “...how do you want it?”

Images both delicious and creative flitted through Hux’s own mind: the idea of letting Ren have him bent over the bridge, of riding him facing the viewport of the alpha’s TIE Silencer, or perhaps most deliriously of them all, on hands and knees of what the alpha understood to be Hux’s own bed in his personal quarters of the Finalizer.

Ren groaned as he closed his eyes in a sort of feverish pride; the omega found him suitable enough to let the alpha fuck him in his own bed. It was charming as hell, and maybe just a fantasy, but even the intimacy that would need to be involved for such a thing to happen made Ren preen. Did Hux often picture their relationship differently, if only to fantasize about Ren in a role far-different than their current interactions with one another?

Trusting one-another enough to invite into a space that personally belonged to them was another kind of fantasy all together, and it made the alpha decide then and there that he was going to make this really good for Hux; as apology for not making his report on the planet more thorough; in gratitude to be allowed to scent the man and touch him, even if there weren’t exactly other options around; most of all, because of the thought of how utterly wrecked the Hux in the general’s mind had been. One of Ren’s arms wrapped under the omega as he took him from behind, his other hand stretched out to spread over Hux’s own, their fingers entwining to hold while the alpha lazily pumped in and out of him.

Never in any of Ren’s own fantasies, sexual or otherwise, did he ever picture himself in such a sentimental role. He didn’t think himself capable of it, frankly, but seeing himself through Hux’s own fantasies… It was sweet. Something which Ren definitely wasn’t by his own account, yet there it had been. Minor details to a larger fantasy about being fucked, yes, but that was what made it so charming.

It made him reexamine their entire professional relationship, along with any ideas and opinions he might’ve thought about the man in some spirit of rivalry that wasn’t based on much but incorrect assumption.

...Did Hux actually like him in some way, despite their apparent disdain for each other? Hate-sex wasn’t unheard of between rivals, and who didn’t have fun, dirty fantasies about sexually dominating their coworkers? Hux’s fantasy hadn’t been of that brand, though. None of them really were. It was soft, intimate, and the way the omega clung to him now, it felt trusting. He wouldn’t just let Ren have him in such a vulnerable state if he didn’t on some level trust the other man. Far more Hux-like to barricade himself in one of the other empty rooms and ride out the symptoms if he truly hated him. The last thing Ren wanted to do was somehow violate the tentative trust being given to him.

Working Hux’s underwear down past the globes of his ass, letting Hux’s omega-cock spring free in the action and wiping the mess with unsullied material, Ren took to a knee to have the omega step out of them before he tossed them aside quickly. It was out of impulse, not disgust, in order to stop himself before he could do anything… embarrassing… Like bringing them beneath his nose in desperation to drown in Hux’s scent.

He could always snatch them for later appreciation after.

For now, Ren was face to face with the general’s still-hard omega-cock, framed in neatly-scaped hair the same color as the strands sticking to Hux’s flushed face. He could smell the slick on the other man, arousal so musky and delicious that he licked his lips in anticipation. The motion got a twitch of Hux’s hips towards his face, coupled with a whimper of need as Hux’s hands landed on his shoulders, tugging.

Ren didn’t need him to ask twice, sighing as he first rested his head to the omega’s torso to scent glistening skin, steadying his raging heartbeat as he allowed himself to nose about the other man’s coarse hair before lifting off to easily suck down his cock in one go. Hux’s hands immediately relocated to the alpha’s dark hair, fingers hanging on and tugging deliciously, eyes fluttering closed.

“Ren… Oh Ren…”

The lightly-gasped words went right to the alpha’s cock, and he immediately wanted more of those breathy sighs. He wrapped his arms around Hux’s thighs to pull the other man by the ass in encouragement to fuck his mouth, breathing through his nose in harsh exhales. The sound that touch wrung out of the omega was going to feature heavily in Ren’s own fantasies from now on, the taste of the other man another new facet of sensory treasures the alpha refused to allow himself to forget.

Ren was gentle in his movements, monitoring Hux’s own scattered thoughts as his hand cupped the omega’s ass, simultaneously sucking him off. Ren moaned deep in his throat as his fingers encountered slick, and he slowly followed it to the source, gentle in his probing as the pad of one of his fingers pressed against the general’s hole. The reaction was instantaneous.

Hux’s cry came out of nowhere, fingers tangling in the alpha’s hair as his hips surged forward in the other man’s mouth. The paltry release Ren tasted moments later was a pleasant surprise, and he hummed in his throat in pleasure as the other man was bent over him, effectively hugging Ren’s head and enveloping the other man in his scent.

Hux’s legs shook where he still stood, and the alpha pulled off him to gently tug the general down to kneel on his shed cowl. Hux was catching his breath, leaning now in Ren’s arms as the alpha held him to him-- cock so hard it actually hurt- and the omega put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, looking up plaintively; desperate. “Please, Ren… I need…. need...”

Ren moved some of the hair stuck to Hux’s sweaty face to behind his ear. He knew what the omega needed, and he wanted to give it to him, and so much more. He cupped his cheek with his hand, stroking the heated skin with his thumb. He might have certain opinions about General Hux his co-commander, but Hux the omega who needed him heat drunk? He only wanted to be good to him. Nice. This wasn’t even a real heat, so who knew how much Hux would remember at the end of it all or not, but he wanted to be that version of himself from the fantasy; the one who Hux wanted at his back and holding his hand atop his own bedsheets.

The needy growl of his own Ren couldn’t completely suppress from his voice, but Hux shivered and gratefully sank to hands and knees at Ren’s own instruction, presenting his ass with an impatient sort of look behind himself as the alpha tried to reign in the lust he was feeling at such a sight. Easy, start easy.

His hands cupped Hux’s ass, squeezing appreciatively and getting a noise out of the man that made his chest swell with pride. He pressed kisses up the general’s back, enjoying the discovery of barely-there freckles, and smoothing his big hands over and around the other man’s body to pinch both nipples. Hux arched back, pushing his ass into Ren with a moan as Ren’s hands continued their exploration of his skin, down his belly, over his cock, and around his thighs to again land on the man’s ass.

Hux whimpered when the alpha spread his cheeks with his thumbs, swiping one of the digits over his hole to gather the slick there. He then reached his hand beneath Hux to wet the omega’s cock with his own slick, hand sliding over the general’s length. It got breathy whines and thrusts from the other man that made the alpha smirk.

Ren moved his hands back to spreading Hux’s cheeks again right before he delved his tongue onto Hux’s hole.

“R-Ren… o-oh Ren… yes! ...ah! Please! ...please ...please…”

Ren felt himself drunk on Hux’s heat-scent. Properly and utterly under its spell. The general’s usually-commanding voice was instead soft around sighs. Hux spoke his name in breathy pleasure instead of baleful scorn. It was everything. It was perfect. Ren had to have him.

He couldn’t wait any longer with the sweet way the other man earnestly and unashamedly begged him for more, and he nipped Hux’s left ass-cheek before sitting back up to work his damn leggings down his thighs. He wasn’t going to waste any time standing to fully remove them, just taking his aching cock in hand with his leggings pinned under his knees, and teased the rim of the omega’s hole with just his cockhead.

Ren’s groan echoed Hux’s own.

He was so slick, so hot, and the alpha wanted to ram on home more than anything, but he went slowly, kissing Hux’s back and licking salty skin as he held his hip with one hand, his cock with his other. “...let me in, General,” Ren whispered softly, kissing up below Hux’s ear while the omega sighed out. Hux pressed back towards him impatiently, and Ren slowly breached the other man with a strangled sort of moan. It was through sheer willpower alone he didn’t come immediately.

Hux’s moans were obscene as Ren slowly, slowly sank into him, the omega’s hole not nearly as unwelcoming as Ren might’ve thought; no uncomfortable resistance, warm and wet and loose for him.

The prim, ever-plotting general was lost to pleasure and selfishly chased more, pressing back urgently to try and get more of Ren inside him faster. His forehead was pillowed on his forearm as he moved his hips, and Ren steadied him with grunted, whispered words to pace himself. Whether or not that was actually a chuckle or a stitled sound of pleasure that left Hux didn’t matter, because Ren was solely focused on the way Hux’s body pulsed hotly around him as it accepted him. Hux kept asking for more and whining his name.

By the time he was fully sheathed and shallowly thrusting, the untethered general was regularly moaning into the cowl bunched beneath them, pushing back to meet every thrust the alpha pounded into him while drowning in his scent-thick clothing. Hux’s moans reached new pitch whenever Ren dipped to nip at his skin or jerk his slick omega cock.

Ren wanted to come so badly, holding off just a bit longer, just a bit more, willing his knot away even as it was already threatening to swell. Hux could feel it too-- the knowledge that the alpha was going to knot him- and the anticipated-thought spilling over from the omega is what tipped the scales for the alpha.

“Fuck, Hux!” Ren reached out for the hand Hux was gripping Ren’s cowl with, entwining their fingers as he could feel his knot beginning to swell with the crest of his orgasm. He was pounding haphazardly into the other man as it felt like his cock grew to even greater proportions, tugging on the omega’s hole until it could move no longer. Hux cried out, coming untouched and dry as Ren’s own orgasm took him. The alpha released inside the omega, their bodies snugly connected for the time being, finally sated with relief.

Ren’s heart was beating wildly in his chest, still feeling Hux’s body pulse around him and beneath him as he fully collapsed atop the general. Hux made a noise of discomfort, and Ren maneuvered the two of them to their sides, holding the general in his arms and scenting indulgently up his neck. The alpha could feel Hux’s own heartbeat return steadily over time, the pair’s breathing calm, and mood lacking any hostilities. He didn’t let go of the omega’s hand.

Hux slowly came back to himself as they lay there in comfortable silence, the chemical imbalance in his brain smoothing out to usual levels; nature had gotten to ‘run its course’ on him, so to speak.

Ren was sniffing about his neck with genuine fondness that he didn’t feel like hiding-- not after what they’d just shared- and not wanting things to revert back to their antagonistic state. He fought it with soft touches and gentle hums, lightly chuffing over the omega’s skin as if to say it wasn’t just the hormones; he hadn’t only fucked him out of a sense of duty nor responsibility.

He could sense clarity inside the other man’s head; an understanding of some kind. Hux’s mental walls weren’t up to their usual guardedness, though it wasn’t as easy to sneak about there as it had been during the heat-state, but Ren sensed a feeling of contentment growing that didn’t necessarily diminish the longer they laid in place. Hux’s opinion about the pleasure over their coupling was very much in line with his own; satiated, content, safe.

Ren was still holding his hand when Hux finally chose to break the silence between them. Gathering his courage-- Ren could feel, as the omega didn’t have the benefit of the force to sense the alpha’s own mind behind him- Hux cleared his throat just a bit before broaching the silence. The alpha pressed fond kisses to messy copper hair regardless, waiting.

“...figures you’d have a cock the same size as the rest of you. I’d never have been able to take that if I wasn’t in that state.”

An indignant snort took the alpha in surprise, pausing him in his attempts to learn what hair the color of Hux’s tasted like. Hardly the words Ren had expected. A cursory glance of the general’s face surprised him again as he realized Hux’s mouth was turned up in amusement, little quick looks over his shoulder at the alpha as if to make sure he knew he was in on the joke. He was teasing him, but it wasn’t mean-spirited. Not at all.

Ren could feel the pleasure radiating off of Hux. Astonishment, and oddly motivation as well. The general was having sudden issues controlling his face, looking away with smirking embarrassment that the aftermath of this… incident was going so well. Ren only cuddled him that much closer, as if Hux had instead accused him of only being a means to an end. He pressed a kiss to a pale shoulder, and dragged his nose over the skin with a shuddered exhale.

The general huffed, purposely-overdramatic, with a look down his body to where Ren’s clothed-leg was possessively over his own, bodies fully entangled in the mess of all their other clothing.

“...you seriously didn’t even fully undress to fuck me?”

“I was impatient,” Ren stated honestly, unapologetic as he turned a cocky smirk on the other man, sensing the pleasure Hux got even in making that statement.

Hux quickly turned his head away again, a genuine smile he was trying to hide as he chastised his co-commander. He was pleased by the desperation to fuck him that those damn leggings represented, no matter how he may try to frame it. “How utterly discourteous of you.”

Ren felt his heart speed up at the theater of what Hux was doing, and again felt charmed by the other man. There was no fighting thinking this was just a fluke. They would do this again. And again. And most certainly again.

Ren spoke words of promise against Hux’s skin, hoping he’d accept him. “I’ll strive to do better next time.”

Hux’s body squeezed Ren’s cock, and the alpha groaned and pressed his head hard into Hux’s shoulder. The back of Hux’s neck grew red, refusing to look at him as he curled into himself, but the pure pleasure radiating off of him was no mistake.

Hux was thrilled at those words, his co-commander taking him by surprise more times today than through their previous years working together. Hux was now privately praising Ren’s idiocy for not knowing he was an omega, and enabling them the fledgling opportunity to have… this. Whatever it might be.

There was time to explore that for what it was later, but just such an opportunity made Ren himself excited; seeing behind the whole General-facade to the person who wanted his hand held while in the throes of passion. There was nothing weak in it, and nothing to be ashamed about wanting it. Ren’s own intentions of a repeat were clear, and Hux was willing to entertain that as soon as they had the time in their schedules.

Hux brought the hand Ren held up to his lips, not quite kissing, but brushing the other man’s knuckles with his lips. The alpha held him closer and pressed a kiss against his neck. His knot had shrunk between them, no longer forcing their closeness, but neither moved, and Ren wanted to savor being inside the general for as long as possible.

“We should… take care of that beacon…” Hux proposed a few moments later, speaking against Ren’s fingers with hidden sentimentality. “Every minute we waste is another minute for the rebels to get further from our reach.”

But Hux didn’t get up. Not immediately, anyways. A little peek into the general’s mind found a bone-deep contentment there, and it warmed something forgotten inside Ren’s chest to know he had the power to make another human being feel that way. He wanted to explore the feeling just as much as the other man did; to find out what, such as in Hux’s fantasy, might potentially be there.

They eventually got up, making their best attempts to clean their garments to something presentable enough to return to the Finalizer with, and Hux set to work on the complicated repairs for the signal that would rally their forces.

Thoughts of continuing this new liason back aboard the Finalizer weren’t just in Ren’s head alone, and it was with that same anticipation that Hux worked towards making the repair in a fraction of the time, the blush on his otherwise smug face certainly not one from concentration.

Ren wore his own smile without pretense, watching the general work.

--

kofi | ao3

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 17 of SFV

Chapter 17 - Day 2: The Storm's Aftermath

(6am, November 20, 2018)

Ron finally managed to get out of bed and rubbed his eyes.

"Uhhh...where am I?"

Kim giggled from the bathroom.

"You're still in the hotel, sleepyhead!"

"That stupid storm last night..." he groaned, "...robbed me of some of my sleep."

"We'll check out the damage first thing before we go down for breakfast." Kim replied with the door still closed.

"Um, KS? Are you going to come out?" Ron asked.

"Just a minute, Ron! Lemme put my lipstick on! And perfect!"

Kim then came out of the bedroom door. She was wearing her Club Banana dark denim flare overalls with a white long-bell-sleeved button down crop top. Kim hooked up the right strap of the overalls and left the left strap undone and dangling behind her back. The bib curled forward to show that Kim had also unbuttoned the top button of the button-down crop-top and showed off a bit of her black bra. The overalls had zippers on both sides. In the jewelry department, Kim had giant gold hoop earrings, a statement gold necklace, and a charm bracelet of the CB logo shaped in a heart, plus the $300 CB ladies watch on her left hand. She added two bracelets on the right hand. To finalize the outfit, she had open-toe wedges with a block heel on them. The flare length of the overalls perfectly concealed the shoes. She painted both her fingernails and toenails red. She added red lipstick, makeup, and blue eyeshadow to complement the altogether look.

Rufus then did a wolf-whistle.

"Whoa...it makes me almost wanna have a nosebleed!" Ron exclaimed.

"Ron...don't flatter yourself!" Kim giggled. She then playfuly threw clothes into Ron's face. They were a button-down shirt, baggy jeans and a belt.

"Now get ready and dressed up!"

"So are we ready for the Stoppable troops to head on over to the mess hall?" Ron then asked, referring to the on-site restaurant that had a breakfast buffet. He was now dressed in the baggy jeans, belt and button-down shirt. As were Kim's instructions, he did not sag them.

"Hold on there, mister!" Kim replied. "We can't go out until we investigate what damage the storm did to the Stoppable-mobile.

Rufus then climbed onto the counter. s "Rufus, you stand guard and watch the kids." Kim instructed the naked mole rat. "We'll take care of the matters involving...that cursed van."

Rufus nodded his head.

(5 minutes later)

"Oh no...the Stoppable-mobile is a mess!" Ron exclaimed.

"The hail really did a number on the poor car!" Kim remarked.

The Stoppable parents were in the parking lot, observing the damage that had been done to the minivan.

It was covered in dents all around the hood, roof, and on the doors as well. A few hits were on the fenders as well. The most notable damage was on the windshield whre several hits, about tennis-ball to baseball sized, caused crackss all over the place. Thankfully, the front windshield didn't shatter. The same cannot be said, however, for the back windshield, the third-row passenger side window, and the second-row driver window, which have all shattered. What remainded of the side mirrors, due from the damage earlier at the Bueno Nacho in Ogallaga, were now gone as well. The grille was also gone, the right turn signal and the front bumper suffered three holes as well.

As of the small camper, it too suffered damage. The vents on top were totally destroyed and the body of the camper had hail dents all over the place. It also had suffered from cracked side windows and the rear window of the camper also broke. The door to the camper was also ripped from its hinges.

Kim also looked around at the other cars.

"Oh man...that was one ugly sitch of a storm!" she said with wonder.

She then sniffed around.

"Ewww...what's that smell, Ron?!" she asked, disgusted by the whiff.

Ron sniffed and pointed out the source of the smell.

"It's coming from the camper!" he said.

They peered through the open camper and saw that two squirrels and a racoon were raiding the fridge.

"Hey! You stupid animals! Get out of here! Shoo! Shoo!" Ron yelled as the animals scurried out of the camper. "Man...KS, we have to clean this out! There's squirrel poop all over the place!"

"I'm with you on this, Ron!" Kim replied, holding her nose. "There's a gas station across the street with a vacuum machine! We'll use it to clean out the poop and the glass."

The garbage can also reeked of chewing tobacco as well from Canna*

"Sounds fine with me!" Ron said, giving his wife the keys, "Start the engine up and let's start vacuuming!"

(40 minutes later)

"Ron...stop playing around with the vacuum hose!" Kim demanded. They had already cleaned out all the glass from the van for the kids' safety but Ron was playing around curiously with the vacuum hose.

"I'm trying but it just won't let go of my hair!" Ron whined. The vacuum hose was sucking up his hair.

Kim groaned and grabbed the hose. Ron's hair was a bit messed up. "Now stop moping around and help me get the saran wrap and Smarty-Mart brand duct tape on the broken windows!"

"Ten for $8. You can find that on aisle 40, right next to the paint cans." Ron grinned, showing off his knowledge of the chain.

Both the Stoppable parents worked to patch up the Stoppable-mobile.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Ghosts of War: Chapter 15

Summary: Freedom. The very concept is foreign to you and the other Winter Soldier. However, your skills haven’t evaporated with the advent of free will. So you and he hide, slowly making your way towards New York where you feel inexplicably drawn. The two of you are stuck in Chicago until your bus arrives, but you try to make the most of it. Warnings: Swearing (always), Groovy 70′s slang Word Count: ~2,728 A/N: Things are in English. Other languages will be in “quotes and italics.” Sorry for the delay.

Masterlist // Book One

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

You simply smiled at him and moved off his lap, moving to sit on the other side of the bench. Mimicking his earlier actions, you patted your lap gently. His smile was so tender your hearth physically ached. He laid down slowly, his head eventually coming to rest on your lap. You ran your fingers gently through his long dark brown hair and he relaxed into the touch. “Goodnight,” you whispered, fondness creeping into your voice.

His only response was placing a gentle kiss to the top of your thigh before he fell asleep, his soft snores comforting you beyond words.

Dallas, TX - United States - March 15th, 1973

By the time you were boarding the bus to Chicago, Dallas was barely waking up. Only supremely unfortunate people with places to be at 5 am were out and about, and they were so tired that they didn’t spare you or the Soldier a single glance.

You’d gotten lucky and found a gas station with a well-stocked store and managed to snag yourselves a change of clothes. You threw your previous outfits in the garbage, keeping only your gloves and boots to hide your cybernetic appendages. You had no idea if what you were wearing was hideous or not by today’s standards, but it definitely was to your own eyes. Floral patterns everywhere and too-tight pants that flared outrageously at the bottom.

By the time you’d trudged bitterly out of the bathroom, the Soldier was leaning against the wall waiting for you, cigarette stuck firmly between his lips. He glanced up as you exited and you couldn’t help but glance away in embarrassment. Of course he managed to look good in this era’s clothing. He’d probably look good in anything. You walked up to him, eyes glued to the ground. If he took notice of your odd behavior, he didn’t say anything.

“Ready to go?” he asked quietly, blowing smoke away from the two of you.

You plucked the cigarette from between his lips and took a long drag, handing it back to him before you exhaled slowly and turned towards the door, grabbing his hand as you went.

He trailed after you, seemingly content to be tugged along, smirk dancing on the corner of his lips.

The trip to Chicago was grueling. You knew it would be a long journey, but over a day’s travel was a bit much. You hadn’t brought anything to do, so much of your trip was spent sleeping, staring out the window, or talking to the Soldier.

“When we get to Chicago, we’re bathing. I don’t care how we get to that point, but I can’t take this anymore,” you muttered around fifteen hours into the journey. Most people were asleep by now, but the roar of the bus down the freeway was still enough to drown out your words.

He gave his shirt an experimental whiff and cringed. “Agreed.”

You sat together in silence for a few minutes before you turned your head to look up at him. He glanced down at you, then fully turned to look at you when he realized you hadn’t looked away. “What?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at you.

You chewed on your lip nervously. “Have you... remembered anything?” you asked hesitantly.

He blew out a long sigh and let his head fall back on the headrest of his chair. “You mean... from before...?” he held his left arm up questioningly.

You nodded quickly and he frowned. “I dunno... can’t decide if something’s real or a dream,” he muttered, glancing at you apologetically.

“Tell me, please,” you whispered, taking his hands between yours.

He couldn’t meet your gaze. “Why? It’s all a jumbled mess, Sugar... don’t see what good it’ll do, drudgin’ it all up.”

You squeezed his hands tightly in yours and tried to get him to look at you. “Well, if I remember it, too... then it’s probably real, right?” you asked, smiling when he finally glanced up at you, still hesitant. “Please?” you added, looking at him hopefully.

When a small half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips, you knew you’d won him over. “Fine, but you hafta share somethin’ too, alright?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly. “Deal.”

“And we write everything we remember down if we both agree it probably happened,” he added, making you raise an eyebrow.

“On what? Neither of us have any paper, or even a pen,” you asked staring up at him in confusion. Your expression quickly changed to disbelieving offense when he pulled a tiny notebook out of his pocket, closely followed by a pen. “You had that this whole time and didn’t share? We could have played games. Hangman, tic-tac-toe, anything!” you whisper hissed, making a grab for the notebook which he easily dodged.

He let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, but I like talking to you... and we both needed some sleep,” he said, gazing down at you tenderly

You gaped openly at him before he gave you an amused look that had you snapping your jaw shut and glaring at him half-heartedly. “Fine... you first,” you grumbled, pulling your feet up. You threw them over his closest leg to you and leaned in, resting your head against against his right shoulder.

He smiled down at you before looking away, thinking. You let him be, knowing full well what a mess his head was at the moment.

“Real or fake, I taught you how to box?” he asked finally, glancing down at you.

You smiled up at him. “Sounds right. Feels good. Going to go with real.”

He chuckled and quickly scribbled it down. “What a vote of confidence...” he muttered, smirk dancing on his lips.

“Not sure of anything right now, sweetheart,” you said with a sad smile which he returned in kind.

“Your turn,” he said, staring down at you expectantly.

“Hmm...” you racked your brain, trying to find a concrete idea or recollection that might be real. “Real or fake, we built a motorcycle together?” you asked, fingers twitching as though you could feel the tools in your hands. It seemed so real, but the memory slipped through your hands like water as soon as you tried to recall it in detail.

The tenderness in his eyes made you take a deep breath, smile on your face. “Real,” he said, staring at you for a moment more before he moved to write it down, pen scribbling across the tiny pages. The notebook was barely a few inches across and only slightly taller than it was wide. It looked especially small in his big hands.

He stuck the pen between his lips as he thought and you couldn’t help but smile at the odd behavior. He finally pulled it out and stared at you with those light blue eyes and took a deep breath. “Real or fake, I married you in a bombed-out town hall?” he asked, still as a statue as he studied you.

His words brought forth a myriad of images; him in a military uniform looking much happier and well-kept, a bunch of men you couldn’t remember the names of, a simple cake, a small bouquet, simple, engraved gold bands. You snapped out of your daze and stared down at your left hand, where you could nearly see that simple wedding band in your mind’s eye. Your finger suddenly felt naked without it. “Real,” you breathed, happy tears clouding your eyes.

He smiled at you and let out a single choked sob of happiness before his lips descended upon yours.

Chicago, IL - United States - March 16th, 1973

It took a little while for the two of you to get back on track after that, but by the time you were finished you’d agreed on quite a few other things:

You knew a man named Steve.

You fought in World War II.

You were Americans.

He was a sniper.

You were an engineer.

You and Steve worked with a group of other men in the war, though neither of you could remember their names.

You were close with a beautiful brunette woman, though her name eluded both of you. Something with a “P,” you were pretty sure.

You’d gone on a date in France.

You’d saved each other’s lives more than once.

He hates sweet pickles.

You’d met in a Hydra facility.

The memories were random and scattered, but it was progress. By the time bus rolled into Chicago at 1 pm, the tiny notebook was half full. There were plenty of things from earlier in your lives that you couldn’t verify for each other. Those weren’t written down; false memories would only confuse you more.

The first thing you and the Soldier did when you hopped off the bus was buy two tickets for New York. It was still early in the day and, even with the wind blowing through the busy streets, it was warm.

“We have a few hours, Doll. What do you wanna do?” The Soldier asked.

“Hmm...” you hummed as you glanced around. Sitting around at a bus depot for hours would be a terrible idea. Even though you’d made it most of the way across the country, you were sure Russian agents around the world would be on the lookout for the two of you at any major transportation hub. You wouldn’t be surprised if Hydra had joined in the search by now. The weasels definitely had spies in Russian intelligence. “Wanna go for a walk?” you asked, staring up at him with a smile as you wove your fingers together with his. “We can search for a motel nearby while we explore.”

He glanced around surreptitiously. “Sure that’s a good idea? It’s broad daylight out,” he said, worry obvious in his tone. He didn’t like being out in the open any more than you.

“We’re hiding in plain sight, sweetheart. We’re barely even recognizable,” he said comfortingly.

You sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. “How about that shower?” you asked, to which he nodded eagerly.

Nearly all of the money you had left was spent on a motel room and dinner- a deep dish pizza at a nearby restaurant that you and the soldier devoured with impressive speed. The moment you were both finished showering (which took extra time because you may or may not have had sex a few times) you left the motel, not wanting to stay in the tiny cramped room a moment longer than you had to. You sat at the back of the restaurant (at a table that gave you clear view of all the entrances and exits), picking up tidbits of other patron’s conversations as you ate. The era had such odd slang and you found yourself smiling ruefully once or twice when a particularly exuberant group of young people came in and sat down only a table or two away, chattering away happily.

The Soldier glanced up at you, pausing at the expression on your face. “What?” he asked curiously, eyebrow raised.

You had to fight back a grin. “The good vibes in this place are groovy.” The Soldier groaned and buried his face in his hands, which only made you smile wider. “What’s got you bent, cool cat?” you asked playfully, earning another pained groan from the Soldier.

“Please stop,” he begged, voice muffled by his hands.

“Why are you raggin’ on me, man? I’m shagadelic,” you said, shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

He let out a truly undignified snort and finally looked up at you, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That has to be the worst sentence I’ve ever heard.”

You shrugged and grinned at him. It was such a strange sensation, smiling. You could tell from how weird it felt that you hadn’t done it recently, and you were sure you couldn’t remember the Soldier smiling that broadly before. Up until a few days ago, the most you got was the softening of his eyes whenever he looked at you.

“C’mon, hep cat. Let’s blow this taco stand,” you said, wiping your mouth with your napkin and throwing it onto the table as you stood. He let out a low exhale of a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at him as you extended your hand. He tossed a few bills on the table before taking your hand in his.

The two of you headed for the door, but not before practically dissolving into giggles at the comments of the people nearby. They had no idea you and the Soldier could hear them loud and clear, so their hushed, urgent whispers of “look at that hip couple, man,” “That dude is the bomb. Looks like a total Casanova,” and “That chick is foxy. Wonder where she got her outfit,” followed you out of the restaurant.

You turned to the Soldier the moment you stepped through the door, eager to use your newfound slang, but he immediately turned and glared half-heartedly at you. “Don’t. Please, for the love of god, just don’t,” he pleaded.

“Fine, fine,” you said good-naturedly with a smile, giving his left hand a gentle squeeze. The feedback receptors would let him feel the pressure, but you knew the warmth of your hand escaped him.

He let out a sigh of relief and immediately resumed scanning the area as you made your way down the busy Chicago street, content with the companionable silence between you.

But it wasn’t to last.

“Let’s peace out to our pad and hang for the night, can ya dig it?”

Your only response was an exasperated sigh.

As it turned out, you didn’t end up in a hotel, motel, vacant house, or on a comfy park bench. In fact, all plans of sleep vanished for the night the moment you spotted the lights of a club while wandering the streets of downtown.

You turned to stare intently at the Soldier, who immediately flinched, likely reading your train of thought in an instant. “No.”

“C’mon, don’t have a cow, man! Let’s go get our boogie on!” you said, interest only growing the closer you got to the club. The funky music seeped through the walls and out the front door and you had to admit it was catchy.

The Soldier rolled his eyes. “No. We need to find a place to stay for the night,” he argued, valiantly trying to tug you down the street. “We shouldn’t even be out right now.”

You frowned and dug your heels in, effectively pulling the two of you to a stop. You dropped the 70′s slang for a second so he knew you were being serious. “There’ll be so many people in there that no one will notice two more. We’ll blend right into the crowd! Besides...” you lowered your voice and leaned in closer to him. “We’re low on funds. It’ll be easy to sneak a few dollars here and there from drunk party goers.”

He frowned, considering your words. “Don’t know how I feel about stealing, Doll...” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes. “Well do you plan on getting a job right now? Because I think we might be a little out of luck in that department.”

He sighed, shoulders slumping, and you knew you’d won. “Alright, fine. But if the place starts clearin’ out, we’re outta there. We’re not getting caught because you wanted to dance.”

You positively beamed at him as you dragged him towards the door. The bouncer didn’t even ask for your ID and you and the Soldier entered the club, both of you freezing for a moment once you got inside.

The place was loud in every meaning of the word. People gyrated to the music everywhere. A huge shimmering ball hung in the center of the room, reflecting all of the numerous lights hung from the ceiling. There was also a faint smoke in the air which smelled distinctly... skunk-y? It was nearly too much for your sensitive eyes at first, but you quickly adjusted to the chaos, a wide smile adorning your face when you spotted the huge light up dance floor in one corner of the room.

The Soldier looked around, aghast. “What have I gotten myself into...”

You looked over at him, soft smile on your face. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked down at you, though his gaze darted away once or twice when he caught a sudden movement behind you. “We may not be able to recall old memories... but I sure as hell want to make some new ones with you.”

He finally relaxed a hair at your words and, in the blink of an eye, pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You ignored the wolf whistles and catcalls and kissed him back just as fiercely. He broke the kiss with a smile on his face. “Let’s go make some new memories, Dollface.”

You grinned wickedly back at him. “Right on.”

Next Chapter

If you’d like to be tagged in this series, like this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

[jhelenoftrek]

Imagine - Something Smells Off

This Imagine is for @emmikamikatze who gave me a fantastic prompt a few hours ago (not listed so as not to spoil.)  Thanks hun!

You drag yourself into the lift at deck eleven, grimy and gritty and covered in sweat.  Once there, you realize that the pungent smell which has been permeating your nostrils for the last hours – the unmistakable stench of contaminated gel packs – has leeched into to every fiber of your uniform, not to mention your skin and hair.  With a silent prayer, you ask for a straight shot to deck five so as to not subject anyone to what amounts to olfactory torture.

The lift whirrs and you’re moving upward.  Deck Eleven, Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven - almost there.  

And then, you come to a stop.

You curse under your breath and shift awkwardly to the back, praying harder than you’ve ever prayed in your life that it’s not the cute ensign from Astrometrics about to enter your little garbage car.  

Both to your relief, and your chagrin, it’s not that adorable person with the blonde hair and freckles – it’s the Captain.  

You greet her with a smile, hoping that if nothing else the current state of your clothing will earn you a merit point.

She smiles back, nods and stutters something akin to “Lieutensign” and then orders to the lift to take her to “Deck Fun.”

When the computer bleeps a request to repeat that destination she swears under her breath and says, more carefully this time, “Deck One.  Bridger.”

Something is very wrong.

You clear your throat and realize that the most pungent smell in the lift is no longer you.

“Captain?” you ask, hesitantly.  

“Mmm?” She leans against the side of the car.  “Oooh,” then she snaps her fingers.  “Stop.”

With one eye, you regard her.  “Stop?”

“Halt,” she says, more harshly this time.

“Computer, halt lift,” you clarify.

“Thank you, Lieuten…” she cranes her neck to see your rank insignia.  “Crewperson.”  So much for those bonus points.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.   The way she’s weaving is starting to make you feel like you’ve had a couple of whatever she’s quite recently shot back.  

“You ordered the lift to halt, ma’am.”

“Oh.  Right.  I forgot something.”  She looks to the floor and begins to tilt hard to port, so you take her by the side of the arm and right her again.  

Then, she turns, looks you straight in the eye and says.  “You.  Do not smell good.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Sorry, ma’am.  I was repairing the contaminated –“  And she’s lost all interest in what you’re saying.

“Bridge!” she orders again. “Time to get going home, isn’t it?  We’ve been out here much too long.”

“Computer, belay that,” you say.  The lift stops again.  “Captain, I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem to be feeling very well.”

“I feel fine-tastic,” she spits.  

“How was the party?” you ask, hoping to stall for time.  Though you’d need all night for her to sober to the point that she would be in an appropriate state to enter the bridge.

“Good, good.  We closed the deal with the Bavarians.” She slaps you on the shoulder.  “You were there.”

You bite your lip.  “I believe they’re call the Bahra’veen.”

“Fine group of people, just fine.  Make a really good punch.”

“You entertained them on the holodeck, right?”

“Mm.  Are we on the bridge yet?”

“Captain, I’m going to say this as nicely as I can.  You’re very drunk.  I can’t let you go to the bridge. And you might reprimand me in the morning, but I’m willing to take that risk.”

She sticks up her hand, points a crooked finger at you and then pokes you in the chest.  “You know what?  You’re right.”

“I am?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?”

You can’t argue with that.  “Okay, then let’s just get you back to your quarters and into bed, shall we?”

“Smart.  You’re smart.”  She taps her own forehead.  “Bed is what I need.  Remind me to promote you.”

“Oh, I will,” you say.  “Computer deck three, no stops.  Engineering override Alpha-four-six.”

She’s leaning on you now, swaying gently again and you keep your eyes plastered forward.  Mercifully, when the doors open there is no one around to witness the display that will be getting her down the hallway.

“Fafter you,” she mumbles.

“How about we go together?” And thankfully she takes your arm without further argument.

It’s another thirty meters or so until you reach her door at the end of the corridor. That’s when you realize, she’s going to have to be coherent enough to remember her access code.  Again you find yourself in silent prayer.  But this time you have a backup plan.  Commander Chakotay is just two doors down.  If need be, you can comm him for help.

“Okay, Captain.  You have to put your code in so we can get you to bed.  Do you remember your code?”

“This isn’t where I sleep,” she says with an odd amount of confidence.  “I thought you were taking me to where I sleep.”

“These are your quarters,” I say, double checking the nameplate and your sanity.

She grins and you think you’ve never seen a better impression of the Cheshire cat in your life.

She leans in close and whispers with a giggle, “I have a secret.  Promise you won’t tell?”

“Okay…”

“I sleep down there.” And she points two doors down and across the hall.

Oh. God.

Before you have a chance to come to grips with what this really means, she’s darted away from you and is rushing for Chakotay’s door.  When did she become so agile?

“Captain, wait,” you shout. But it’s too late, she’s begun tapping on the entry pad.  You reach her and pull her hand away as gently, but quickly, as you can.  “I really think it would be best if you –“

The door slides open.

“Commander,” you say, jolting to attention.  Your nose has chosen this very moment to remind you that you still stink like a pile of dirty diapers.  “The um, the Captain here…”

She brushes past him, into his living room and disappears.  He barely acknowledges that she’s gone into his quarters.  Instead, he’s focused in on you and it’s all you can do to ignore that he’s shirtless and in pajama pants.  “She’s not feeling very well.  She was trying to go to the bridge after the party with the Bahra’veen and I just thought –“

“You did well, Crewman,” he praises softly.  

“I didn’t want her to make a –“

“Chakotay!” You hear her shout from deep inside his quarters.  “Your bed is so cold!  Come keep me warm!”

“- scene.”

The commander bites his bottom lip and nods, then chuckles.  “Thank you for taking care of her.  I knew I should have stayed at that party.”  

You’re now aware that you haven’t blinked, swallowed, or quite possibly breathed, in at least two minutes.

“I, um…” he motions awkwardly back inside.  

“Yes.  You’d better.”

“Please –“ he begins, softly.

And you raise your hand, stopping him mid-thought.  You’ve seen enough for one night and you know better than to talk about it.

“Thanks.” 

The door swishes closed behind him.

You let go of a heavy sigh, shake away whatever the hell it was that just happened, and head back to the turbolift.  

“Deck five," you say, now completely drained of all your faculties.

At deck four, the lift stops.  You curse that you didn’t use that override again, or better yet, a site to site transport.  That’s how you’re going to travel from now on you think, just as the cute ensign from Astrometrics with the blonde hair and freckles joins you.  He flashes you a smile, takes a whiff and tries not to gag.

“I know.  I reek.”

“It’s, uh.  It’s not that bad.”

You shake your head.  “You should have the Doctor check your nose.” Then you leave him, and finally, mercifully, reach your destination.  

I forgot how much I love writing these things.  If you have an Imagine prompt for me, my ask box is always open!

[rygoespop]

Thomas and Friends: Tales from Sodor (Story 29): Beauty and The Garbage

Narrator: Beauty and The Garbage

Scene opens with Daisy, rolling through Bluff's Cove

Narrator: Daisy is a Diesel Railcar, she can carry passengers in her

Scene transitions to Whiff, shunting Freight Cars of Garbage at the Wastedump

Narrator: And Whiff is the Garbage Engine, working at the wastedump with Scruff, but he doesn't mind being smelly

Scene transitions to Daisy, who is at Knapford Station

Narrator: One morning, Daisy was at Knapford Station, Sir Topham Hatt has an important job for her

Sir Topham Hatt: Hello Daisy, I got an important job for you

Daisy: Oh! What is it Sir? Collecting the famous visitor from The Mainland?

Sir Topham Hatt: No! It's not that, but instead, I'm pairing you with another engine

Daisy: *surprised* Oh! Are you pairing me with BoCo?

Sir Topham Hatt: No Daisy, it's not BoCo, he's got work on Edward's Branchline

Daisy: Harvey?

Sir Topham Hatt: Harvey is busy clearing the tracks

Daisy: Toby?

Sir Topham Hatt: Toby has Quarry duties with Mavis

Daisy: Then who?

Just then, a whistle was heard

Whiff: Me! *puffs in*

Daisy: *shocked* What!? Him?

Sir Topham Hatt: Yes Daisy, I'm pairing you with Whiff

Daisy: But sir, he smells like skunks! I'm suppose to be a pretty Diesel!

Sir Topham Hatt: Useful Engines don't complain, now you might as well get to work

Whiff: Come along Daisy!

Daisy: Ewwww! *she honked her horn and rolled away*

Whiff: Wait for me! *he blew his whistle and puffs after her*

Scene transitions to Daisy, rolling through the Countryside, with Whiff following her

Narrator: As Daisy was rolling through the Countryside, Whiff followed

Daisy came to a stop at a signal, up ahead was Gordon

Gordon: Oh, hello Daisy!

Daisy: Hello Gordon

Gordon: What are you doing?

Daisy: *nervous* Oh! Out to carry passengers!

Whiff: No your not! Your helping me collect Garbage!

Daisy: *shocked at Whiff* Were you following me?!

Gordon: *surprised* What's this? You, working with Whiff?! *laughs and puffs off*

Daisy: *disgusted* Ugh, why did Sir Topham Hatt put me working with you?

Whiff: Come on Daisy, it's just for one day

Daisy: Ugh *she honks her horn and rolls away*

Whiff: *blew his whistle* You'll get use to it *puffs up to follow Daisy*

Scene transitions to Daisy and Whiff rolling down the line, up ahead were Emily, Molly, Rosie, and Frieda, they were laughing at Daisy

Narrator: As Daisy and Whiff were rolling down the line, the other engines were having a laugh

Emily: Oh my Daisy! Did you get any garbage?

Molly: It smells worse than fish

Rosie: Ha ha ha!

Frieda: Whew! I never thought a pretty diesel would smell like garbage!

Daisy: Ugggh!!! *she honks her horn and races away*

Whiff: Wait up! *he puffs forward, chasing Daisy*

Scene transitions to Daisy going up Gordon's Hill, but sees Whiff and reverse with Whiff following her

Narrator: No matter where Daisy goes, Whiff finds her, up on Gordon's Hill

Scene transitions to Daisy racing into Henry's Tunnel and later rolled backwards since Whiff was in there

Narrator: In Henry's Tunnel

Scene transitions to Daisy, now racing through the Countryside to avoid Whiff, without knowing about the signal being red

Narrator: As soon as Daisy was racing to avoid Whiff, there was trouble, she didn't see that the signal was red

Daisy: Huh?!

Henry was puffing onto the main line, pulling a Goods Train, which consists of a Mail Car, a Salt Van, a Cattle Car, 2 Coal Cars, an Oil Tanker, a Tar Tanker, a car full of crates, and a car full of Milk Churns

Daisy: Henry! *she honked her horn*

Henry: Daisy?

Daisy: Look out! *she slams on her brakes and bumps into Henry's goods train*

Henry: Augh!

Suddenly, a milk churn was sent flying into the air

Daisy: Uh oh

The milk churn came down and the milk splashed all over Daisy

Daisy: Blegh! This is worse than seeing a cow!

Scene transitions to Harvey arriving with Judy and Jerome, and Sir Topham Hatt, who looked cross

Narrator: Later, Harvey arrived with Judy and Jerome to clear the mess, and there stood Sir Topham Hatt, he looked very cross!

Sir Topham Hatt: Daisy the Diesel Railcar! What were you thinking?! Ignoring a red signal and causing an accident?

Daisy: I'm sorry sir, it's just that I don't want to work with Whiff

Sir Topham Hatt: Oh Daisy, the reason why I got you working with Whiff it's because Scruff is at the Steamworks, I only needed you to fill in for Scruff when he gets back

Daisy: Yes sir, sorry sir

Scene transitions to Daisy, now at the Wastedump, shunting Garbage Cars with Whiff

Narrator: Later that day, Daisy was shunting Garbage Cars at the Wastedump with Whiff, all day long, she was getting dirtier and dirtier from all the Garbage

Daisy: *embarrassed* Oooh, this is humiliating

Whiff: But it is worth knowing of getting the job done

Daisy: *slowly smiling* Yes, your right Whiff, it is more important to get the job done

Whiff: Now that's the spirit

Both Whiff and Daisy shunt cars of garbage, Daisy was getting dirtier and dirtier, and she didn't mind at all

Daisy: *chuckled* My, this is easier than I expected

Scene transitions to Whiff and Daisy, who have completed their job, when Scruff arrived with Sir Topham Hatt

Narrator: Later that day, the job was completed, and Scruff arrived, back from the Steamworks, Sir Topham Hatt was on board

Sir Topham Hatt: I'm impressed by you two, well done!

Daisy: Thank you sir, even though I didn't like getting dirty, but it was fun working with my new friend, Whiff!

Whiff: Oh, thank you Daisy! I never thought you would say that

Daisy: Oh your welcome

Sir Topham Hatt: As a matter of fact Daisy, you can go back to collecting passengers again

Daisy: Oh thank you sir, as long as I get a wash first

Whiff and Daisy both chuckled as Steam Clouds rolled in

Story End