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margowritesthings · 1 year

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The Greatest Gift A Cowgirl Could Ask For

a @rdrevents Valentines gift exchange for @cowboydisaster

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader word count: 4,400 words warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, sexual themes, vaginal sex, mentions of death, unprotected sex, throwing up (TW EMETOPHOBIA), very brief mention of SA in the past, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of Micah Bell a/n: am I britney spears in her 2000 grammy award winning song??? because oops, i did it again. i don't know how I managed to get Bea as my recipient for a SECOND time, but it only felt right to carry on building this universe I've made for her and lying to her about it all week. Whoops.

Bea, my beloved, Happy Valentines Day. You deserve the world and Im so glad I could dedicate this fic to you. Honestly I probably couldn't have gotten the motivation to get back on my feet and write again if it wasn't for you. Thanks for everything you do bby and I hope this lives up to your 'if by some miracle you get me for your gift exchange disregard my prompts and write a TGG prequel' (yes she actually said that) idea. Love you lots xxx

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @luvliewriting @mrsarthurmorgan7 @photo1030 @snobbybastard

My Darling Wife,

I’m writing to you from up near Tempest Rim. I’ve tracked this bounty all over the goddamn Grizzlies and I’m ready to come home to you. I miss you so much and I’m real sorry I can’t be home in time for St. Valentines. Hopefully I can catch this bastard soon and make it up to ya. We’ll go to the theatre and sit right at the back, how’s that sound? I’ll move heaven and Earth to be beside you soon, you know I will.

I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. I’ll be there as fast as I can be with enough money to take you out on the town. Won’t be long, I promise.

All my love, Arthur

Your finger runs over his looped script, over and over as if it will somehow will your husband out of the crumpled paper and into your bed. It’s been 2 months since the letter arrived, 2 months of the agony of not knowing if he’s dead or alive robbing you of sleep each and every night. You miss him, more than you could ever imagine one person could miss another and you honestly don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t come home.

It’s a 600 dollar bounty, it’s sure to be a tough job you constantly reassure yourself, unable to focus on anything but the absence of half of your very soul in every waking moment.

The day he comes home starts like any other. Time's arrow marches on, the sun rises and sets over your makeshift family as they work and plan and rob and hunt. You busy yourself planning a job with Karen, cushioned into your schedule between menial tasks so that it’s just that bit easier to not think about him. As usual, your efforts are in vain, but at least the chores are done, your steed Diesel is happy, and, all being well, you and Karen will have about 30 dollars to split between you when the week is out.

An hour before he comes home, everyone retires to bed, save for John (who’s on watch tonight) and you’re left alone by the campfire. It crackles and pops, embers swirling the air around you. It feels like you stare at the twisting flames until your eyes blur and burn and you can’t tell which are tears of irritation to your senses and which are your heart breaking once more.

Moments before you’re reunited with the second half of your heart, you hear John yelling. It’s instinct that drives your hand into your holster, still resting against your hip despite the late hour, and you perk up like a startled deer, straining to decipher Marston’s words.

“Who is it?!” “Arthur, you dumbass!”

Arthur.

Arthur?

“Arthur?!” It’s a breathless shout, barely heard over the rushing blood in your ears as your feet take you to your husband before your mind can even fathom that he’s here.

But sure enough, when you reach the edge of camp, heart racing, you see Arthur Morgan riding his chestnut mare straight towards you, spurring her into a gallop as soon as he lays his eye on his waiting wife. Marston probably makes some remark about who ‘decided to show up’, but to you, there is nothing but you and Arthur, two magnets parted by an unnatural force finally reaching each other again with a deafening crash.

And it is. A crash, that is, when Arthur all but throws himself off his saddle and your bodies collide, great big arms wrapping around your frame. It is then that the tears fall down your cheek, soaking into Arthur’s coat that smells so much like him it truly feels like a dream.

You thought he was dead.

Only when you’re safely in his arms, when he’s pressing frantic kisses to your head, whispering your name over and over into your hair do you allow yourself to admit that fact. You thought he was never coming back, and yet here he is. Words fail you, the overwhelming emotion settling right in your throat.

“Oh, god… oh, darlin’ I-I missed you so much…”

You feel two large hands cup your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss that holds everything and anything the past 3 months could have been had you not spent it apart. But everything fits back into place, the world starts spinning again and you’re whole the second Arthur Morgan’s lips meet yours. It lasts a lifetime, it lasts a fraction of a second. You want to stop time, keep Arthur in your arms forever and never again have to go through the torture of being away from each other. The two of you only part to throw near identical scowls at John, who is amusing himself by telling you to get a room.

Unfortunately, as Ms. Grimshaw so often reminds you all, the Van der Linde Camp is not a hotel, so tonight you will not be afforded the luxury of a private suite as John so kindly suggested. There is only your tent, hitched against the gang’s weapons wagon, the old canvas pulled around to offer a little privacy when you and Arthur first started… well, needing the seclusion.

Calloused fingers intertwine with your own digits, Arthur’s other hand flipping John off before his weight pulls you towards your little corner of camp. There's so much purpose in his stride, the need to have you all to himself, not even share you with the lord above or wildlife below, driving him forward. Driving him home.

When you’re finally, truly alone, the tears welling in your eyes glistening in the candlelight, no words are needed. Soon enough, you’ll talk for hours on end, catching each other up on every little detail of the last few months. But for now, all that there is and all that could matter is right this very second, when Arthur reaches for you, brushing a thumb over the tear tracks on your left cheek. His eyes, looking almost emerald in the dark of night, roam over each and every detail of you with such an intensity in him that you think he’s trying to remember this moment for the rest of time. You’re sure it’s one you could never possibly forget.

Arthur snakes both arms around your waist, guiding you backwards until the backs of your knees gently hit the cot and you lay back onto it. He covers the full length of you and then some, making you feel so fragile and small. It’s nice to feel breakable for once, to let go of the need to be the strongest in the room, lest you be ridiculed for being too sensitive or too weak or too womanly. Arthur knows just how strong you are, you need to prove nothing to him, so you can submit to his embrace, allow yourself to just breathe for once knowing you can break and there’s re will always be somebody to put you back together.

He lowers himself to your lips, pressing a kiss to them that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Arthur then kisses your nose, then your cheeks and chin, before trailing down to the crook of your neck. Your skin feels as though it’s on fire, so starved for the man you cannot live without that now he’s finally here everything feels that much more intense. The tiniest scrape of Arthur’s teeth against your flesh shoots through every single nerve in your body and you moan right into his ear. You can actually feel him harden against your thigh at the sweet melody of your pleasure.

Pushing Arthur’s hat off to the side, your fingers rake through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp encouragingly as he nibbles at your skin.

“Oh, Arthur… Oh, I missed you so much…” You breathlessly whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat when he pauses his movements to glance at you from under impossibly long eyelashes, jade green eyes glistening up at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart. So so much.” His voice is soft, as if he’s handling the peacefulness around you so delicately and it causes the overwhelming emotion to well in your chest and choke up your throat. Arthur sees this, trying not to be too taken with his own surprising amount of emotion himself, and relieves you of your job of a response by directing his attention to the buttons of your shirt. You don’t remember him pushing your jacket off your shoulders, but there it lies on the floor beside the entrance to your tent, so he must have.

Despite the juxtaposition of such dainty buttonholes and such large fingers, Arthur expertly undresses your top half until you’re bare to him. He takes no time at all to take one of your nipples into his mouth, kissing and sucking at it with a hunger you feel right in your toes. You moan loudly, unable to stop yourself after yearning for this very feeling for so long.

Arthur coos and shushes you and it vibrates across your skin, not helping you stay quiet in the slightest. The hand not tugging on his dirty blonde locks reaches between your two longing bodies to begin to unbuckle his belt. You can feel your own heartbeat throbbing between your legs, your coil growing tighter and tighter by the second. It’s been almost 3 months since your bodies have joined like this, and yet you’re not sure you can wait another minute.

You’re purring for Arthur, twitching and grinding as your hand fumbles desperately at the belt. His absence from your skin is agony the second he pulls his hips back to sit up straight. Spotting your downright bratty expression, bottom lip protruding in a pout, Arthur chuckles lowly, “Patience, baby… I gotta get these damn clothes off us.” He gestures to his belt, still very much buckled around his waist. Definitely not your fault. He was being far too distracting.

He’s quick, you’ll give him that, shedding his clothes without taking his eyes off you. You burn under his stare, even more so when he crawls back on top of you to slide your boots off one by one and peel your pants and undergarments down your legs.

The heat radiates off his huge body, his cock pulsing with need. The way he’s putting his weight into his arms to stop from crushing you with his weight adds a definition to his already beautifully sculpted body. Reaching down, you brush the tip of your finger oh so gently over his rosy head, finding a bead of cum already leaking, and you snap. You can’t wait a second longer, scratching and gripping at him like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Please, Arthur, please I need you. S-So long, it’s been so long-” “Shh, I know, princess, I know. I’m gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna take care of your pretty little cunt, I promise.” He soothes you, though his own voice is shaky from the very effort of restraining himself, maintaining his control to not drive into you and ruin you. While he whispers to you, he lines himself up at your entrance and you quiver in anticipation.

In all your years before you met Arthur, you never really saw sex as anything but something to give, or worse, something to be taken from you. You never truly understood, not until you met Arthur, who taught you it’s something to share, to experience. With Arthur, it’s different. It is connection and pleasure and it’s wonderful and god damn it, it’s addictive. So when Arthur slides into you, letting out a visceral, guttural groan as he does, everything is right in the world.

You feel so full, especially when Arthur pushes all the way to the hilt, connecting you completely at the pelvis. The moan that escapes your lips is downright obscene and Arthur crashes down into your mouth to swallow it.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been so long, or the emotion of it all, but you swear you can feel everything. Every vein and ridge, every twitch and movement of his perfect cock as Arthur slowly starts to move in and out of you.

“Fuck… s-so good, darlin. So tight- y’feel so fucking good, princess…”

You’ve never hurtled so close towards a climax so quickly in your life. His torturously slow, deep thrusts drag into your sweet spot every fucking time and trying to hold back brings a blur into your vision. Your own hips grind against his, Arthur gripping into your flesh to guide you perfectly in time with him.

“I-I’m so close already, Arthur… fuck…” You breathe out, your breath tickling Arthur’s ear and sending a visible shudder down his spine. He looks proud at your admission.

“You missed me that much, huh? Gonna cum for me already, darlin’?”

He gives you no time to respond, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing in time with everything else. You implode, pulling Arthur down to catch the scream you’re about to wake everybody up with. It has never felt so intense, and with every thrust Arthur fucks into you it only grows and grows, shattering you to pieces for Arthur to fix back together again.

When you return, a rhythmic thudding in your ears, the first thing you see is Arthur, of course. His jaw is fluttering madly, a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead but the candlelight makes him look ethereal. You still can’t believe he’s here, alive.

Tears start to glisten in your eyes. You’ve never cried during sex before, not for anything positive, at least, but somehow this doesn’t feel wrong. Arthur slows again, watching you, and you spot an extra shine to his own jade orbs. He knows. He feels it too.

He’s right there with you. As he always is.

He brushes a piece of hair stuck to your forehead away, and the gesture is enough to send the tears falling down the same worn path on your cheeks as before.

“I love you, Mr. Morgan…” “I love you, Mrs. Morgan…”

It seems to become too much for Arthur to stay still, and you’re glad for it. You’re desperate for the friction, already flying towards another orgasm. He’s really fucking into you this time, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in. He’s groaning and growling and you decide in that moment that it’s your favourite sound in all the world.

“I… I ain’t gonna last much longer, baby…”

“C-Cum in me…” “Huh?” He slows, shuddering at the exertion required to control his movements, “I-”

But you’re not listening to his protests, your nails digging into the skin of his back and ass and anywhere else you can reach to urge him forwards again.

“Please Arthur, I-I need you… I need you to cum with me, I need you with me…” you plead with him, not truly understanding your need but honouring it. You’ve been without him for so long, you deserve him with you now.

He appears to consider you for just a moment, before diving down to lock your lips with his. His tongue delves into your mouth, tasting every bit of you and he starts to pump into you unreservedly. His body grinds against yours and the friction is perfect and you’re so fucking full and before you can even try to hold back, you’re cumming again, stars scattering your vision, heart pounding out of your chest to find release from it’s mortal, physical cage. Your inner walls twitch around Arthur’s length and this time, he doesn’t hold back either.

His eyes fly open and lock onto yours as you both climax together. It’s vulnerable and strange, but perhaps more connected than you ever thought possible for two people to be.

Arthur’s cock twitches inside you, pumping out his spend as he groans viscerally, completely losing control of his rhythm as he thrusts into you one last time, harsh and deep. You’ve never experienced this before, with Arthur or any other man, normally erring on the side of caution when it came to such matters, but even as you come down you can’t bring yourself to regret it. Whatever you and Arthur just experienced together felt spiritual, and worth much more than a little risk.

Arthur collapses, even as depleted as he is still considerate enough to collapse onto his elbows and not crush you. He slides out of you, earning a little wince, and rolls to the side so you can rest your head on his chest. It’s like a locket that’s been ripped apart, finally fixed together with the most satisfying click.

═══════☆═══════

Two months later, life has returned to its equilibrium. You and Arthur are perhaps clingier, still in a sort of second honeymoon phase where you just can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, more so than usual. It’s a side effect of prolonged solitude, you’re sure.

The first time it happens, you blame Pearson and think nothing of it. It’s pretty early in the morning and you’re sitting with Tilly and Abigail, peeling potatoes for the stew tonight. Abigail is venting her frustrations about when John did this and John said that, and everything feels so normal. Pearson arrives, throwing a rather large, rather dead fish onto the table you’re leaning against and you feel the thud from the weight of it vibrate against your back.

It isn’t until the smell invades your senses that everything starts to feel off. It smells exactly like all the other fish Pearson has ever slammed onto that poor table, which doesn’t explain why you immediately lurch forwards, grabbing an empty bucket and throwing up your breakfast. The fish stench is suffocating and all you can do is get the hell away from it, not noticing when Abigail’s brows knit together almost… knowingly?

You skip the stew that night.

―

The second time it happens, you try not to think about it. You’re riding Diesel and almost don’t make it off him in time. There is nothing to set you off, no horse shit or rotting animal at the side of the road, and yet in an instant your stomach feels like it has been flipped upside down.

The sheer volume of your retching catches Arthur’s attention and he tugs on the leather reins in his hands to steady his mare.

“Darlin’? Y’alright?”

His concern is evident in his tone and in the tight line between his brows, which deepens when he finds you unable to respond in anything but a frantic nod. He dismounts, spurs clicking against the dusty ground when he approaches you.

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s it, easy, easy… you’re okay…”

You feel gentle circles rubbed into the tense muscles of your back as you try to get through this again. It’s not lost on you that Arthur is speaking to you like a spooked horse, but it actually really does help. (You decide to prioritise peace of mind and not psychoanalyse why that is). Eventually, it relents and you regain your composure, albeit somewhat less gracefully than you’d have liked.

“Sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, maybe I ate somethin’.”

Your apology for something you can’t help earns you a sad smile from your husband, who places a loving kiss on the top of your head before reaching for your discarded hat and putting it back on for you.

“Y’don’t gotta apologise. I gotcha, darlin’.”

You know he does.

He always does.

―

The third time it happens, the luxury of denial is stolen from you. It’s early enough that your view while you sit with Abigail drinking coffee involves glorious hues of orange and pink scattered around the rising sun. It’s peaceful, tranquil. The warmth of the little metal mug in your hands and Arthur’s jacket around your shoulders is enough to ward off the fresh morning chill in the air.

There is absolutely no warning when it hits, when it happens again. You’re so goddamn sick (no pun intended) of hurling. Your eyes water and your throat hurts a little and you curse under your breath when it’s over. Abi is beside you, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. She waits until it’s over before speaking hesitantly.

“Uh, can I ask you somethin’?”

You nod, eyes still red and glistening as you swirl coffee around your mouth to take away from the awful, acidic taste lingering.

“When did you last bleed?”

“What, like an injury? Uh, I cut my hand couple days back, but I don’t see what-“

… Oh fuck.

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The anxiety bounces around your body and you decide that you’ve become far too acquainted with the concept of nausea. You can actually tell the difference between nerves twisting your stomach and… well, let’s say it as it is: morning sickness. This is the former, you deduce, spinning both your engagement and wedding ring around your finger to give your hands something better to do than carve fingernail-shaped moons into your palm. He should be home any minute now. Any minute now and it will all change forever.

It’s quite late, but the poker game Arthur was scoping out for potential jobs is known to last a while. You’re the only one still awake, poking the embers of the campfire to keep yourself as comfortable as possible.

You hear hooves hitting dry dirt first, and it seems to trigger your fight or flight response. God, you’d love to run away from this, but that is pretty much impossible, so fight it is. It’ll be the greatest fight of your life, you’ll soon learn, one you’re privileged to be a part of. But right now, it feels like an all-consuming unknown.

Arthur can tell something is wrong the second he sees you. You’re terrible at hiding things, especially from him. He always reads you as though you have a poster advertising your feelings printed on your forehead. Arthur dismounts, kissing you tenderly on the temple and wrapping his arms around you.

“What’re you still doin’ up, darlin’? Is everything alright?” You can feel his worry vibrating in his chest as you nuzzle into his embrace.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just… Can we talk? I kept the fire goin’.” You say it into his shirt, reluctant to move from this hold.

“Of course…” there’s something in his voice, a tense apprehension that really doesn’t help the knot contorting itself in your gut.

While you’re more than capable of keeping a fire going, Arthur is an expert, and has it healthily burning within seconds of you sitting down on the overturned log the gang has fashioned into a bench. You’re back to spinning your beautiful gold bands around your finger, trying to remember to breathe in and out every so often.

“What’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” His voice is so soft, so kind that it makes you want to cry. But you promised yourself you wouldn’t until you’d told him, because this might just be the most important conversation you’ve ever had, and you definitely won’t get through it if you’re a blubbering mess.

“I, uh… I… somethin’s happened.”

You hear his breath hitch in his throat and Arthur leans towards you, completely enveloping your hands in his. They’re sandwiched in now and you can’t fiddle with your rings anymore.

“What? What happened? Was it Micah? If he’s said somethin’ to you, I’ll kill him, the rat bastard-”

“No, no, it’s… as much as I’d love to see that, it’s not him.”

The tension releases. Just a little bit.

“I’m pregnant.”

Oh wait, there it is.

The silence is deafening, even though you’re almost certain it isn’t actually silent out here right now. There's a fire going and crickets are just metres away, you’re just shutting down with nerves.

The normally so often tense, fluttering jaw of Arthur Morgan is slack, his eyes wide and gaping at you, occasionally flicking down to your so far bump-less belly. (You should know- you’ve been obsessively looking in a mirror any chance you get for some sort of sign that this is really happening).

Say something. Please say something. Please don’t be angry. Oh, God please don’t hate me.

“I-I… You’re pregnant?” He repeats, reassuring you that you haven’t actually gone deaf, though his tone holds no indication of anything but shock. That’s probably fair…

You nod, hands instinctively reaching over your belly. It feels… weird. Holding your hands over your baby. Yours and Arthur’s baby.

“It happened a couple months back, when you got back from The Grizzlies, I think… I-I’m sorry, Arthur. I shoulda’ been more careful and-and…” You’re rambling, filling a silence that probably should just be allowed to be a silence.

“There… There’s gonna be a baby?”

There. Right there, adorning Arthur’s beautiful features, is the pull of a smile. It chokes you up instantly, so far deep in nightmares of arguments and unhappiness that you hadn’t even considered the good. You start to nod, a little bit of your fringe falling in your face.

“Yeah… There’s gonna be a baby. Our baby…”

“Our baby…” He repeats, his arm raising to brush the hair away from your eyes in such a natural manner it feels like it’s just his instinct to care for you. It is his instinct to care for you, Arthur has shown you that in every minute of every day of your marriage, and suddenly you’re not sure why you’ve been so scared.

“I’m gonna be a dad?” He still seems in disbelief, but that’s normal. It’s taken you a few days to come to terms with it, and even then the fingernail marks in your palms are still red raw.

“You’re gonna be a dad.”

It hits him. Really hits him and he all but throws himself into you, scooping you up and spinning you around as he laughs unreservedly.

“Well goddamn, I’m gonna be a Daddy!”

You laugh with him, worries and anxiety a distant memory as your feet swing around in the air. You’re probably waking the camp up, but you don’t care all that much. Right now, you’re the happiest girl in the world.

A baby. There’s gonna be a baby. Arthur’s baby.

Really, it’s the greatest gift a cowgirl could ask for.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan x f!reader #arthur morgan x y/n #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redepmtion 2 #arthur morgan rdr #rdr2 arthur #rdr valentines change

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edwardteachs · 6 months

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hi everyone. I guess I'm doing this again.

norway likes to present itself as a wonderful happy place to live, but the truth is disabled and transgender people don't have any rights or guarantees of support.

I had a very promising job interview fall through, and am now back to square one. jobs find me unemployable due to my very low work ability, disabilities that demand accommodation, and I'm also visibly transgender which doesn't exactly help my chances. at the same time, NAV has decided that I am not sick enough to deserve any help. I'm applying to every job I'm qualified for, but that's not many. I'm so tired.

My phone is dying. I don't have money for a new one, or for rent, or electricity, or medications, or food. My family does not have money to help me. rent is low, but still much more than I have. To survive until January I'd need upwards of a thousand dollars, not counting the exorbitant price of a new phone.

I'm not asking for a thousand dollars. but if you have anything to spare, I'd greatly appreciate it.

my pp.me is here. if you're norwegian, dm me for vipps as it gets into my account much faster.

oh, and please don't tell my family about this again.

diesel, for attention:

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jalwyn21 · 4 months

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"my knuckles were bruised like violets/sucker punching walls cursing you as I sleep talked"

Even if it's metaphorical, these lyrics are legitimately frightening. Along with the lyrics to Afterglow where she talks about "putting you in jail for something you didn't do."

And this was when they were still together. To think that he put up with this for 6 years only for her to spin it all into being his fault and sending her rabid stans after him. Even if he's as unbothered as he seems (and I really hope that he is) it has to really hurt to think you put so much into a relationship with someone who treated you that way only for them to attack you not only themselves but also turning her followers after you to send you literal death threats and spread false rumors about you. And he was only 25 and not even really as exposed to media and public life as he is now.

After seeing her current bf's disgusting behavior last night, I truly believe those two deserve each other completely and Joe has had a very lucky escape from her

Put you in jail for something you didn't do I pinned your hands behind your back, oh Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It's on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault Tell me that I'm all you want Even when I break your heart 🙄

Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you

You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone You said I have to trust more freely But diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire And maybe it's the past that's talkin' Screamin' from the crypt Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did So I justified it

Soldier down on that icy ground Looked up at me with honor and truth Broken and blue, so I called off the troops That was the night I nearly lost you

If your cascade ocean wave blues come 🙄

And if I would've known How many pieces you had crumbled into 🙄 I might've let them lay

Is it insensitive for me to say Get your shit together? 🙄

Like swi*fties will look at these lyrics and go : Awww, so romantic... and not understand how could Joe not marry her.. Yikes! And somehow he is the bad guy now.... 🙄

#joe alwyn #joealwyn #free joe alwyn #jalwyn #q&a #nonnie #anti taylor swift #shit swifties say #toxic swifties

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greatwesternway · 9 months

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Diesel Does It Some More

A thing I think is sort of overlooked about Diesel is that he is one of the few characters in the series who gets genuine development over the course of the show. Some characters get that over the course of two episodes, particularly if they are a one-off, but Diesel is the only one who got development slowly - so slowly - over the course of several seasons.

I have a longer, different post coming about his early history on Sodor so we're not gonna talk about Duck v. Diesel here. This post concerns what happens after the point at which we can assume Sir Topham Hatt finally gave in and bought Diesel outright, securing his place on the NWR's roster.

Effectively, what this means is Diesel is no longer in danger of being sent away, but it also means he has to invest more in his relationships with other engines because it's a small island.

He's not been well prepared for this on the Other Railway. Luckily he has tons of time to learn.

The first few seasons after his acquisition are rocky. Diesel needs to show he deserves his place on Sodor, but he usually tries to accomplish this by undermining other engines which is not conductive to getting the work done ("Fergus Breaks the Rules"). He's also still telling them that steam engines will be scrapped ("Thomas to the Rescue", "Squeak, Rattle and Roll"), which is obviously not true on Sodor but is often an effective way of achieving his first method. (It's also, I think, important to note that the punishment for the thing with Fergus was being sent to work at the smelter's, which is where 'Arry and Bert work, but that's an entire other post too. It set him back, let's just say.)

From here on out, though, Diesel is sometimes treated by the narrative neutrally rather than as a villain. In "Respect for Gordon" he's making fun of Gordon, but so is Emily so that's not really a comment on him so much (also he does this by facetiously wishing Gordon well which is an interesting and funny twist on that). He's the villain in "Emily and the Special Coaches" but it comes about that he's behaved this way because his accomplishment of shunting the most trucks in a day has been overlooked and he's acknowledged for it by the end of the episode.

In "Thomas and the Billboard", Diesel is actually the victim of circumstance (and his own reputation, let's be real). During a photoshoot for a billboard, Diesel is directed by the photographer to move forward and he accidentally obscures Thomas from the shot. Later, when Thomas sees the billboard, he assumes Diesel blocked him on purpose. Shit happens, the billboard has to be redone anyway, but this time, Thomas deliberately does not tell Diesel about the rescheduled shoot. Thomas keeps stalling the reshoot to keep Diesel from finding out about it, which in turn keeps all the other engines off their jobs as well. It later turns out the Diesel was doing the priority stuff they were all supposed to be doing and was now late to do his own jobs.

So to sum up, Diesel is the only one doing his fkn job today and Thomas is trying to fuck him over all unbeknownst. Fascinating! Thomas does apologize eventually and everyone gets to be on the billboard.

Then you got "Don't Go Back" where Diesel keeps goading Thomas into - more or less - friendly races that end up causing confusion and delay. The episode concludes with them setting out on another race so the takeaway isn't that Diesel was actually out to make trouble so much as just show he was better than Thomas.

These are all from the model series. I don't necessarily think there was any sort of organized effort to make Diesel more friendly here. One might even attribute this to the show seemingly forgetting who certain characters were. I'm pretty sure the show bible at this point specifically said he was a villain. Still, there's a cohesion to it and they're doing interesting things with the expectations. (Also, as an aside, Diesel being the only one doing his work also happened in "Diesel Does It Again" so that's not exactly out of character, hilariously enough.)

Diesel gets sidelined to cameos for a while as the show transitions to CGI, but he does have one notable outing in which he's desperate for the approval of children and commandeers a bunch of other engines' seemingly better freight to get it ("Diesel's Special Delivery"). This episode is sort of ??? but I do like the end where Diesel's boring utilitarian freight (slate to repair their school's roof) is actually what the children want. It's not a full treatise on steam/diesel relations, but most people probably think the Class 08 is boring compared to steam engines so if you're choosing to see this as a metaphor, then it's nice the functional freight got the appreciation in the end.

And this is where shit starts getting real interesting!

Day of the Diesels is... it's not a good movie. I won't lie and tell you that. But it does do very interesting things with the diesel vs. steam concept. It points out things that would happen on Sodor as a logical conclusion of dieselization on the mainland (things that look much more unfair than they are in a show that prefers to disregard that part of the lore) and I love how they re-conceptualized Diesel 10 from his Thomas and the Magic Railroad debut. That stuff deserves its own essay, but the important thing about Day of the Diesels today is that it's the first time we see a steam engine really giving Diesel the benefit of the doubt.

The engine in question is Percy and he's ideally suited to extend this olive branch. As far as steam engines go, he's got the least status among them. He pulls the mail train, but even the Pride of the Line is treated as beneath most of the other steam engines. He also lacks a pedigree. Granted, most of Hatt's early acquisitions have dubious claims to lineage but Percy's just a straight up mongrel with no discernible builder. And most exploitable, many the other steam engines don't treat Percy with much respect either. Even Thomas is blowing him off in the movie, which is what gives the diesels their opportunity.

It's no accident that the diesels choose Percy as the target for their appeal and it's no accident they enlist Diesel to reel him in. Diesel is convincing, persuasive, and knows the motions of sympathy even if he doesn't quite manage empathy.

Unfortunately, the second Percy arrives at the Dieselworks, they literally put Diesel on a shelf and Diesel 10 takes over.

But the point is, Percy is now an ally of diesel equity and he's got a sort of acquaintance with Diesel himself (aside from it undoubtedly being Percy's idea to strike rather than work with Diesel, who he'd only just met at that point). And it comes back around later.

In "Percy and the Calliope", Percy and Diesel are tasked with taking a busted-ass calliope to the smelter's, but Percy wants to see if it can be fixed. Diesel disparages the operation the whole time... but he does go along with every single thing that Percy wants to try too. Even after Percy insulted him by mistaking his squeaking axles for the Monster of Brendham six episodes earlier.

"Disappearing Diesels" is when the effort to actually develop him starts in earnest. Up to now, things have just been kind of moving along in a lazy and convenient sort of way. Diesel gets to approach the possibility of being cool as a matter of deus ex machina. This episode marks the first time they actually put a specific thing in that they reach back for later to show he's learned something.

In this episode, Diesel convinces all the other diesels to hide from Paxton. And Paxton, not being too bright, comes to the conclusion that all the diesels on Sodor have disappeared. He searches all over Sodor until he happens upon Diesel at the docks. Diesel runs from him but because he spends so fuel evading Paxton, he runs dry on the line. Paxton then shunts Diesel to the next station to get refueled which Diesel does not understand because this is surely not a thing that he would do.

"That's what friends are for," says Paxton.

That evening, Diesel takes the berth next to Paxton's and, though he cannot bring himself to say thank you, he does give him a pained little smile.

The next season, we've got "Wild Water Rescue", in which Diesel commandeers a job Percy was given because he thinks he's going to get his picture in the newspaper. He sends Percy to an abandoned quarry instead where Percy runs himself into a pond and puts out his firebox. Later, Diesel (after finding that the photo was only of Search and Rescue vehicles) goes to find Percy and tries to pull him out, only to flood his own generator too.

And as they are sitting there in that pond, Diesel makes a valiant effort to actually apologize to Percy. He can't quite get the word "Sorry" out of his mouth and he's interrupted by the entire Sodor Search and Rescue before he could manage it. Unlike the thank you he owed to Paxton in "Disappearing Diesels" though, he's actually making an effort here for Percy.

And Percy knows what's up. Percy knows what's good! The next day, he visits Diesel in the Dieselworks to thank him for trying to rescue him (even if Diesel tricked him in the first place) and to show him that he did get his photo in the paper.

Couple seasons later, there's "Springtime for Diesel" where he bumps Daisy so hard that her springs sprong. She has to go to the Dieselworks and it takes so long to get replacement springs in for her that rumors start circulating that she may have to be scrapped. Diesel feels terrible about this and goes to visit her. She pretends to be asleep though, which permits Diesel to actually say that he's sorry this time. With the words and everything!

He's then quick to excuse his behavior by saying that he's mean to other engines because they're mean to him and they blame him for everything, but that he likes Daisy and wishes he could make everything right again. He's resigned though that after this, she's probably not going to want to be his friend.

When Daisy does get her new springs, Diesel is the first to meet her on the tracks. She doesn't directly acknowledge his apology because I think she does get that's a big step for him and she doesn't want to call attention to it. She does tell him though that if he wants to be friends, he has to change his ways.

And he does!

...until literally the next episode where he's trying to start shit between her and Harvey, but Diesel is as Diesel does.

Finally - finally! - in "Sonny's Second Chance", Diesel comes full circle and takes responsibility for his mischief in order to save Sonny from being sent away.

In this episode, Sonny (a steam engine who arrived in the company of a pair of thieves) has been offered the chance to stay and work on Sodor, but only if he proves himself trustworthy and Useful. He finds however that though he tries to be helpful, his actions are interpreted in bad faith by other engines, leaving him ripe for exploitation by a certain engine who knows that song and dance by heart.

Diesel tricks Sonny into hauling his cars to the dump, but they're actually having fun together.

But Diesel fucks it up 'cause of course. On his next job, he brags to Percy that he tricked Sonny into pulling his fish cars, but Sonny overhears. He storms off to deliver the cars and Diesel, realizing he's fucked another friendship, chases after him, but gets switched onto a siding, derails, and almost falls into a Class 08-sized grave. Sonny (who has notably quick reflexes demonstrated both here and earlier when he bumped James out from under falling watermelons) is able to hook a tow chain on and pull Diesel away from the hole. He accidentally derails his own fish cars by backing up so fast, but he catches Diesel before he falls in.

And Diesel thanks him for it! No hesitation, no hemming and hawwing. And. AND! He also admits that he did not deserve to be rescued. Look at my boy! Look at him GO! And Sonny! Sonny tells him straight up, "No, probably not." Which, gangster. "Consider it a second chance." A second chance! For Diesel! No one's ever actually given him one of those before.

Then Sir Topham Hatt rolls up and - in form we've not seen Hatt Bullshit in for quite some time - looks upon this scene and focuses his attentions on clearly the most pressing and important thing: "What's going on here? And what are those fish doing on the tracks?"

Sonny takes responsibility for the fish, and Hatt is all "Well, you've had your chance. I did say you'd have to leave if-"

"No!" interrupts Diesel. And he begs Hatt not to send Sonny away. And admits that everything was his fault. And tells Hatt that Sonny saved him.

"Is this true?" Hatt asks in his blithe Hatt Bullshit way. And it is, so Hatt declares that Sonny can stay and word gets around that Sonny's a hero.

Then they cancelled the show so we never get to see him again!

I'm real fuckin' mad about it honestly because not only was Sonny's episode the culmination of a seasons' long character arc for Diesel, but Sonny is such a uniquely perfect character to give Diesel a proper friend, which I'd argue he never got. Paxton is too trusting, Percy has better options, Daisy obviously isn't going to be BFF's with this guy.

Sonny was so uniquely positioned to be a good friend for Diesel. He's new so he doesn't have existing relationships to interfere with or a long history of previous slights to overlook. He's already committed to giving Diesel a second chance at getting this friend thing right, but he's not forgiving or naive the way Percy and Paxton are. Sonny suffers from the same problems of reputation that Diesel does but is determined to overcome them, which Diesel has never had motivation or incentive to do before. They'd be good accountabili-buddies that way. And perhaps most importantly, Sonny is a steam engine so he'd be closing that old diesel vs. steam gap once and for all.

That Diesel actually fessed up to keep a steam engine on Sodor is something on its own. The implication is that Diesel has found something compelling and resonant about this guy that copping to his bullshit is preferable to Sonny being sent away. If you're keeping dieselization in the back of your mind, you perhaps know there's not many other places anymore for such an engine to go.

What a turnaround for the guy who first arrived on Sodor bragging about how revolutionary he was.

#ttte diesel #ttte percy #ttte sonny

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cyber-corp · 4 months

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By the time I'm posting this, it will be January 26th, commonly known as Australia Day where I'm from. A country known for its sweeping plains, unique fauna and the PM fucking off during a nationwide crisis.

I think, despite all Australia's long-standing issues, there are some things about it worth celebrating the culture. Specifically, the music!

Here are some of (what I think) to be some of the most quintessential Australian albums to listen to:

Midnight Oil - Diesel and Dust (1987): Quite possibly the most Aussie album from quite possibly the most Aussie band. The biggest song off of this album, Beds are Burning, is about Aboriginal Australians being forcibly removed from their land, and the lead singer Peter Garrett is really outspoken about justice towards Australia's native peoples, even being in Parliament at one point. Listen if you want to hear what Rage Against the Machine would be like if they were a new wave band and regularly consumed Oak chocolate milk.

INXS - Kick (1987): If the UK had new wave, Australia had pub rock. Artists defined by their songs being so infectious you can remember while you're smashed on seven bottles of Tooheys Extra Dry (kidding. it's called pub rock because that's where they'd play their sets. in pubs). INXS is quite possibly the pub rock band, the genuine article, and this album is a nice gateway into their music; Punchy, upbeat, and memorable riffs for days. (Songs like Need You Tonight and New Sensation for a good idea). Listen if you like Duran Duran or The Cars.

Kylie Minogue - Fever (2001): GOD, how do I introduce Kylie. This country's shining grace. The superstar in our backyard. Our very own Princess of Pop. This album just extrudes that gleam and optimism that'd you find in a lot of Y2K dance-pop music, and I absolutely love it. Listen if you like Discovery-era Daft Punk or Grace Jones.

The Avalanches - Since I Left You (2000): My personal favourite off this list. It might not be the most "Aussie", but I think it makes up for it in its ethereal tone and sampling techniques. One song might just be made up of just one sample, while another might be made up of 50, (Frontier Psychiatrist was originally made up of 28 samples), but it's all tied together by this collective lofi sound. Listen if you like DJ Shadow, Portishead, or The Chemical Brothers.

Regurgitator - Unit (1997): There was this period in the 90's where Australian alt-rock went fucking berzerk, and Regurgitator was one of those bands. Everyday Formula opens with "Everyday I shit into the sea" and ! (Song Formerly Known As) is about not going out to parties and staying at home. Listen if you'd like Gary Numan mixed with the subject matter of early Weezer.

Spiderbait - Grand Slam (1999): Spiderbait was another one of the alt-rock outlets that got really popular despite being really vocal about the hypocrisy of the industry at large. This album contains a wide variety of influences, like 60's bubblegum on Glockenpop (song about the needless commodification of music. their most popular song and highest-earning single of that year. lol), pop punk on Dinner Time and hard rock on Shazam! A pretty good all-rounder made brilliant by vocalist Kram. Listen if you like Green Day or No Doubt.

Empire of the Sun - Walking on a Dream (2008): I put this one on because the cover is really funny, but then I listened to the album and I got a sense of bittersweet nostalgia listening to it. A mix of disco, dance-rock and funk (We Are The People is a good example) make for something that made me wish I was 7 again. Listen if you like Prince or Let's Dance-era Bowie.

TISM - Machiavelli and the Four Seasons (1995): TISM (short for This Is Serious Mum) are a fucking disgrace to this country. They are such a bunch of yobbo cunts that I can't believe they managed to get anywhere past 90 on the charts. Wankers like them deserve to be dragged out on stage and beat to a pulp viciously, to the ravenous delight of the crowd. Don't listen to this album and don't listen to Greg! The Stop Sign!! Listen if you're a masochist, maybe.

AC/DC - Let There Be Rock (1977): Ah yes, good ol Acca. The ultimate dad band. You could put any of their albums on this list because they all sound the exact same, but I put this one on because I prefer Bon Scott's vocals. The title track feels like it goes forever, but in a way where you wish it didn't end. Some nice fashioned high voltage rock'n'roll. Listen if you like Black Sabbath.

There are way more that I could have put on here (Gurrumul, Frenzal Rhomb, Powderfinger, Silverchair, The Presets, The Chats, Men At Work, Tame Impala etc.) but I think you could probably discover them in your own time. In the meantime, here is the very culmination of Australian music. Nearly 50 years has led up to this being made.

Fuckin skitz cunt.

#australia #australian music #midnight oil #inxs #kylie minogue #the avalanches #regurgitator #tism #ac/dc #the best piece of australian art is democracy manifest #just so u know #music #gecko boy #SoundCloud

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alicepao13 · 3 months

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S06E10

For a golf episode, okay. For a filler, also okay. Not that much going on.

Let's get one thing out of the way first:

Episode title says caddy. They liked that pun, I guess. As the grammar website I checked explains it further, it's not considered a huge error.

CityTV has such a nerve to put their logo in there after all their scheduling changes and general lack of interest for this show (I have no beef with that interview man, I forgot his name, but his interview with Diesel and John Reardon before the season premiere was actually fun).

I absolutely had no idea that women's golf was so lucrative.

"All I heard is sandwich" Thank god for Sarah. I only like Sarah from now on. Not even Rex, he seems too into golf, although there are too many balls involved for a dog to stay indifferent.

Joe joined the golf club when Camilla was born? Didn't he, like, adopt her after he married her mother? Or is my recollection false?

Charlie had worked as a caddie. Well, certainly some backstory there. And of course he's like, the best of them at it even if he doesn't want to join the club.

Seriously, we can't take them anywhere. Especially Rex, whose nose doesn't take a single day off. Boom, one more day off ruined.

I tuned out in every single golf talk, which is unfortunate because it was mixed with the plot (still found the culprit as soon as they appeared on screen). It's just really hard to follow when I don't care about it at all. Since I like almost all sports, I consider those I don't like as non-sports. Mainly golf and formula car racing.

They cut the chase scene? What?

That scene where Charlie drives a golf cart and Rex runs alongside him does not deserve a cool music lmao

Charlie playing golf as he's interviewing a (at the time) person of interest. I can't decide if this is unprofessional or I just don't like golf.

Ah, please someone tell me how many shots they did for that uninterrupted shot of Charlie's short putt that went pretty close to the hole. I know that the guys actually golf in real life but this had to be close but also not go in the hole for Rex to grab it.

Amazon! How the hell can you put an ad about fast delivery in this show, when you consistently fail to deliver the actual show on time in your streaming service? Am I the only one seeing the irony here? Last season it was too early, this season too late.

Also, Jesse, don't you dare wear that. Charlie's orange jumpsuit was actually a better shade of orange than this one.

Okay, maybe there were a bunch of chase scenes in this episode so they felt they could lose one. Acceptable.

Poor Rex's head. I'd have liked more of Charlie's worry please, although it seems like we might get this in a future episode.

This might be the first time we see Rex's teeth as Charlie checks for god knows what. Come on, show, let Rex bare his teeth just once while growling at a bad guy!

*gasps* Skeletal remains! On a family show!

They shouldn't have spoiled Jesse's shirt in the end scene on their promotional pictures. Not that it's such a big thing, but they should actually stop uploading promotional pictures from the final scenes altogether, or post them after the show has aired.

I liked the teamwork in this one. I believe the golf episode had been brewing since S2, where they had to scrap the idea due to a heavy snowfall, which turned the golf field into a ski slope. There is no avoiding golf, apparently!

Promo: What the actual fuck. Charlie and Rex combined whump? Charlie thrown out of a moving truck? Rex missing? Charlie having temporary amnesia? Hospital? Is it my birthday? (Well, it's actually pretty close to my name day instead.) Please squeeze a scene in there with a worried Sarah, and I take back every single bad thing I said about this season (the show only, I don't take back anything about CityTV). Yes, even the whales.

Of course this would be the episode that they'd take a break on. Oh, well. After that terrible hiatus, I can stand to wait a few days. A day had passed already as I was looking for the episode (turns out that they knew what they were doing lol).

#hudson and rex

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littlewestern · 3 months

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I know i've sent a good few asks but i must know. what is diesel days like in tfissab

The first Diesel Days is definitely something we're going to address in the letters, so I don't wanna give too much away aside from the fact that we're really excited to write about it!

Modern Diesel Day events in the letterverse are a bit of controlled chaos and a good day for all the diesel equipment to get some sunlight and well-deserved attention. When I went in 2023 I went by myself but it was still super fun and there was no shortage of things to do or stuff to look at. If you can only make one day out at the IRM, the Diesel Days event is a good choice.

The thing that struck me was the fact that the Nebraska Zephyr was out all day but 9911A wasn't pulling it for most of that time! They had a rotating cast of engines pulling the Goddesses until about 4pm when they put Silver Pilot at the head for the last couple of trains of the day. I think this is a great example of what the Diesel Days event is about, which is putting the spotlight on all the diesel engines at the museum, not just the famous one. I always picture Pilot as a gracious museum ambassador. Like, yeah he's the engine everyone knows, but he's just as excited for visitors to learn about and appreciate the rest of the IRM's roster because *everyone* works hard and they deserve as much recognition as he gets. Pilot is as much a fan of his fellow engines as they are of him. :o)

#tfissab behind the scenes #asks #amber-is-gay #irm

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stories-of-the-nrm · 3 months

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The Prince And The Pauper

Everyone got on well with Flying Scotsman except Henry. Henry was jealous. Despite his struggles, he wasn't nearly as respected as the Flying Scotsman. Henry pulled passengers and heavy goods and had to survive a complete rebuild. In his eyes, the Flying Scotsman hasn't done nearly enough to be respected as much as he has.

"Tenders are marks of distinction," he complained. "Everybody knows that. Why's he got two?"

Even though he knows why Flying Scotsman is famous, it still doesn't explain why he's the only engine to have two tenders. In his eyes, he can't acknowledge Flying Scotsman's celebrity status.

"I never boast, but I always work hard enough for two. I deserve another tender for that."

"Henry," Duck asked innocently, "would you like my tenders?"

"Yours!" exclaimed Henry. "What have you got to do with tenders?"

"All right," said Duck. "The deal's off. I'm only a tank engine, so I don't really understand tenders. Perhaps James might..."

"I'm sorry I was rude," said Henry hastily. "How many tenders have you, and when could I have them?"

"Six, and you can have them this evening."

"Six lovely tenders," chortled Henry. "What a splendid sight I'll be!" That'll show the others the sort of engine I am!"

Meanwhile, word had gone round, and the others waited where they could get a good view. Henry was cheered to the echo when he came, but he wasn't a splendid sight. He had six tenders, true, but they were very old and very dirty. All were filled with boiler sludge!

"Ha ha ha ha ha," laughed the engines. To make matters worse, the Flying Scotsman was laughing at him as well. Instead of looking down on him, he laughs at Henry as if he was a peer. Henry had made a big mistake.

"How do you fancy your six tenders, Henry?" asked Duck. But Henry was so embarrassed, that he said nothing. He simply slinks out of the siding with the trucks of boiler sludge until he was able to uncouple from the train.

"Oh dear! I was so silly to pull such dirty objects. Especially in front of the Flying Scotsman!" Henry wailed. "To think the Prince of the steam engines saw me in such a state. It's bad enough that I was made of stolen plans, but to see me pull something so vulgar? Why that's just despicable!"

Henry continued to moan and groan about his plight. Unbeknownst to him, his regulator malfunctions.

"Bother!" Henry complained. "Whatever will happen next? Now they'll laugh at me again. I'm a 'failed engine'!"

His driver starts to send Henry down the line in reverse. He reached a signal box and stopped, not realizing that two diesels have broken down on the other line.

"My goodness," Henry gasped. "What happened here?"

7170 groans, "Spamcan here has broken down. Sir Topham Hatt had asked me to help, but I broke down too. Can you help us, Henry?"

Henry tries to say no, but his driver intervenes. "Moving two 'dead' diesels and their trains? That's no joke for a 'failed' engine. D'you think you can do it?"

"I'll have a good try," Henry says sighing. He gently buffered up to the train. So, with 7101 growling in front, and Henry gamely puffing in the middle, the long cavalcade set out.

When he got to the next station, he was shocked to see the Flying Scotsman waiting. "Well done!" he exclaimed.

Henry can't help but blush as he's uncoupled from the train and tries to roll into a siding.

"You know, I never quite caught your name. But what you did today really showed those diesels a thing or two."

Henry stares in shock. The Flying Scotsman is actually talking with him. Despite his embarrassing situation not even a few hours ago, Flying Scotsman was willing to speak to him with respect. Perhaps he was wrong about judging the Flying Scotsman.

"I-I'm Henry," he says stuttering.

The Flying Scotsman takes in the sight of Henry. "How on earth did an LMS Stanier Class 5 end up on Sodor?"

Henry is left speechless. He wasn't aware of the horrific nature the Mainland possessed regarding the treatment of engines. Therefore, he had no idea of the significance this interaction will be.

"I wasn't originally built to be one," Henry explains. "I had a horrible crash in 1935. Instead of trying to repairing me, I was sent to Crewe. Because Sir Topham Hatt had connections to William Stainer, he had me rebuilt with this design."

If he could nod, the Flying Scotsman would do so as a means to acknowledge what Henry is saying. "So what was your original design if your controller had deemed it unreliable?"

Henry takes a breath saying, "I was made from stolen plans. They were supposed to be a prototype for the GNR Gresley A1."

Flying Scotsman's "jaw" drops. "You? You were supposed to our predecessor?"

Henry can see that the Flying Scotsman's taken aback. "No. The plans were deemed a failure as my firebox was too small. It wasn't until after I was built that they realized their mistake."

"My goodness!" the Flying Scotsman gasps. This is a lot to take in. "To think if your plans weren't originally rejected, you would've been our predecessor. Why you're even older than my brother, Gordon. How on earth did you survive?"

"Not that long after I was built, I was pawned off to Sir Topham Hatt. He needed a heavy goods engine for cheap and got me instead. I was given chance after chance to prove my worth despite my small firebox."

The Flying Scotsman whistles with joy. "Cheers! You really are an enterprising engine. Keep up the good work."

He rolls out of the station and into the night as Henry watches on in amazement. The Flying Scotsman had acknowledged his worth and determination.

"For an engine of his status, he actually has taste. Finally, someone can see how useful I am!" Henry beamed. No more angsting over his failed design. Henry is THE enterprising engine. And he hopes to stay that way in the Flying Scotsman's eyes.

AN: Thank you @klein-sodor-bahn for requesting this one shot.

Tagging: @nelllia, @gordon208, and @glitterking599.

#ttte fandom #flying scotsman #lner a3 #ttte henry #fan requests #rws fanfiction

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