Crazy Cosmic Gals and Neon Robotics

Hey there! So glad you could join me here to check out this sideblog where I keep my artwork away from my main blog.

[captainmvf]

✨ New art commissions prices for 2024! ✨

 I will draw: Horror, Humans, Animals, Fantasy, Shipping, Self-Shipping, Anthro, Furry, Robots/Mecha.

 I will not draw: NSFW, Heavy Gore, Uncomfortable Ships, NonCon Anything, Anything Hateful.

For questions you can contact me via Discord (old handle is MVF#6572 or just MVF) or message me through any form of social media.

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[captainmvf]

In my heart, I believe Charlie/Marionette would know how to make Mac and Cheese.

[captainmvf]

Mike stumbles back home exhausted or even a little buzzed and 'wakes up' or startles Charlie with a "Charlieeeeeeee please make me Mac and Cheese pleaseeeeeee?"

-and Charlie just goes, "..................................okay."

I just love the image of Charlie Marionette hunched over a stove making some Mac and Cheese in a saucepan.

[captainmvf]

He’s going to have the best snack when he wakes up.

[captainmvf]

In my heart, I believe Charlie/Marionette would know how to make Mac and Cheese.

[captainmvf]

Mike stumbles back home exhausted or even a little buzzed and 'wakes up' or startles Charlie with a "Charlieeeeeeee please make me Mac and Cheese pleaseeeeeee?"

-and Charlie just goes, "..................................okay."

I just love the image of Charlie Marionette hunched over a stove making some Mac and Cheese in a saucepan.

[captainmvf]

In my heart, I believe Charlie/Marionette would know how to make Mac and Cheese.

[captainmvf]

A much needed 2026 update for St. M.

The story for Ricochet... On the top of a mountain is where a dark government known as Cloven Hagen lives. Under a ruthless leader, the captive soldiers undergo torturous training and then set off upon the world to slowly fight for control against the world government. If you're already not scared of the government, then you're more likely scared of who comes down the mountain to answer their master's orders. St. M is the Lead Assassin and one of the seven Alphas or TICs of Cloven Hagen. Her reputation of being able to survive time and time again proceeds her. She's none too interested in gaining power yet is targeted for her dark talents. The only reason she stays is to protect the friends and she's found in this dark situation. Then that growing resistance gets lucky and kills the leader of Cloven Hagen. Once the takeover is complete, she the other six Alphas are brought to trial and determined to live as long as they help ease their sectors into new leadership and attend mandatory therapy. If they fail, they too will be executed. All St. M has to do is keep her head down... Ignore the power vacuum her fellow Alphas are interested in... Protect her friends... And fool that damn therapist so she can KILL HIM.

[captainmvf]

The bare bones brigade playing DnD, up to you on who’s the DM

Lola is crafting her Druid Ghoul character that wants to get better at gardening. Cole is confident about his Rogue Blood Elf character that is the prince of a fallen kingdom and sometimes transforms into a wolf. Lester has a Bard Lizardfolk to help the characters out in the campaign. Don is curious and wants to make a cowboy character.

[captainmvf]

Me: "Okay I gotta upload the last chapter when I get back to my apartment and get some proper sleep. I've been slammed with irl stuff the past few months that's been halting my creativity and putting me in survival mode but this vacation was well-needed and I can't wait to be in better spirits-"

My family: "Someone died."

[captainmvf]

“Dreamin’ of Blue” -Chapter 4

[Starlight Express Big Bang 2026 event fic.] @starexbigbang2026

‘Before they were the Championship King and Queen of the rails, Greaseball was just another UP diesel from Texas and Dinah was a dining car with explosive emotions. Before there was cheating and uncoupling, there was a visiting Greaseball who just wanted to order breakfast from the sweet dining car at the diner.’'Dinah has been dreaming of the blue horizon for a long time. Her mentors long gone and her passion for the races dwindling, maybe that dream should stay a dream. That is, until she meets Greaseball.’

[Ao3 Link. Only viewable to those with an AO3 account.]

 The dark-haired diesel locomotive dodges to the left as Dinah throws another punch, “Better. You’re not twisting your wrist anymore.”

 Dinah grunts, bringing her fist back. She inspects the hand she had thrown, eyes sparkling, “Really?”

 “It’ll be harder on the tracks to throw a punch. Notice how ya coil up before punchin’?”

 She practices the motion again, “Oh! Yes, I felt the wind-up.”

 “Good,” he gives her a sharp grin. “If you can understand the make of a punch then you can try an’ surprise ‘em by hiding the wind-up.”

 The setting sun beats down their backs as they continue their practice session. They had wheeled through laps around the empty training field, coupling up and getting a taste for how they fit together with diesel-fueled speeds and making sure their brakes were in tip-top condition. Like all cars, Dinah didn’t have a set of fast brakes and thus had to get used to her racing partner taking surprise stops. Wide turns had become shorter, tighter. Dinah’s wheels had begun to ache.

 Now they just needed to go over punching and dodging.

 “The trains are gonna to be meaner than me,” the locomotive gives a slow punch to highlight his action. His fist lands on Dinah’s upper arm, “They’ll either aim for my face or try to knock you off ta distract me. I can dodge pretty well due to practice but even I got my blind spots.”

 Dinah watches his fist come back, “I can yell if I spot anythin’.”

 “Knew you’d catch on,” Greaseball crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “We’ll have helmets so our heads’ll be protected. They’ll be aiming mostly for our arms and legs.”

 “But aiming below the waist is against the rules!”

 “Oh and they know it,” he rolls his eyes and growls as if remembering a bad dish from a subpar restaurant. “They will get a slap on the wrist or disqualified if caught, but their thoughts are ‘if I can take ‘em out, I’ll do it.’ They’ll even do it if they consider you a threat to their career and damage yer legs or wheels just ta not see ya in the next one.”

 “Ugh!” Her hands curl into fists at her side, “That’s horrible!”

 “And it’s my job to make sure you don’t lose ‘em tomorrow,” Greaseball’s tone becomes serious. “If I watch out for you, I need you lookin’ out for me too.”

 Anyone could slide in and take out her or Greaseball in just a second. That’s all it takes.

 Doubt swirls in her chest compartment. Her fuel filters unevenly. Maybe that part is just her having not refueled in a hot moment. She steels her nerves and looks him right in the eye, “I can manage.”

 This time, while Greaseball runs a few laps around the course and Dinah is coupled up to him, she throws punches into the air. Left punch makes her skid and swivel. Right hook makes her hop on one wheel. Her race partner just softly grunts as he adjusts their weight and balances the both of them.

 When she’s able to throw about five punches without lurching onto her knees or slowing the diesel down too much is when they decide to call it a day. The sun is already dipping below the horizon. Slivers of red, yellow, and purple escape its last wink across the Earth.

 There’s free food at the cafeteria for all the working and visiting trains. It’s bustling during this time of day as many trains clocking out are shoveling as much hot food as they can onto their plate while those working the midnight shift are coming in for their ‘midnight breakfast’ of pulled pork and vegetables. Far cry from the comfort of diner food but with friendly company it was more than filling.

 The dining cars serving even make sure everyone’s company is welcome. Two of them even spot Dinah as she and Greaseball move down the line in their sweaty practice gear and giggle.

 “Evenin’ sweets,” Sloan, a dining car of Dinah’s same make and model with a loose ponytail, greets her. There’s a playful air to her as she serves them creamed greens, “Haven’t seen you in a while. Punch anymore cabooses?”

 “Evenin’ Sloan,” the blonde gives her a flat stare. Mood ruined.

 Next to Sloan is Burnadette, a smaller dining who has always had a smug face. She’s just as snide as she always is as she hands out cornbread, “Punched the new guy yet?”

 “She did. Multiple times,” Greaseball says as he takes five more pieces of cornbread. The three dining cars stare at him.

 Before the servers can say anything, Dinah bursts into laughter, “HAH! Sure did! I pack a mean punch, and you best not forget it!”

 Both trains laugh as they continue down the line and collect their dinner. They sit at the end of one table as the chatter around them continues. Dinah across from Greaseball as he clambers into the wooden bench and table like a tiger trying to curl up into a small cat bed. He snorts, “Those part of yer train?”

 “Same line and factory, yep,” a fork goes into her spinach and she twirls it like spaghetti. “Not my siblings.”

 The diesel across from her starts pulling apart the pork on his plate even further. He stares at her with a half-smile as if to say, ‘I can tell.’

 “How about you?” Dinah quickly changes the subject, “Any family back home?”

 “Used to have a grandpa,” Greaseball chews. “Called ‘im Pa.”

 This is the first time Dinah had heard a fellow train refer to a member of their family as the human equivalent of grandparents. It was such a rarity, “Grandpa?”

 “Yeah… He was the Yard Master when I first arrived to my yard,” his voice grows faint, eyes drawn towards behind his racing partner. “Cared for the lot of us before he moved on. New Yard Master wasn’t tha same. We kinda had to make do and help one another out. Be a team.”

 Dinah hums, “I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” he waves a hand and tucks back into his dinner. “He probably retired or somethin’. Not around loud diesel locos anymore and getting some sleep, or at least that’s what he would wish aloud in front of us.”

 She giggles. Greaseball smiles.

 Halfway through eating his plate, Greaseball looks out at the crowd. It’s noisy but warm. Chatter of the day he and Dinah are unfamiliar with due to their current objectives. A lone Union Pacific surrounded by CSXs, BNSFs and a few Amtraks. Clearly a pitstop for many visiting trains on the payroll.

 He gestures behind him with his thumb, “You see anyone, besides me, comin’ from the south? Or is it all freight and commuter runs here in the middle east?”

 Dinah shrugs, “Rarely racers like you come through. Sometimes it’s a train who switched lines. I don’t really pay attention to the hubbub of locomotive news.”

 “And I guess I don’t know much of tha world of humans or cars,” Greaseball’s focus goes to his metal cup of water. “Life of a train is fast. You go up, down, east, west for a good bit of time and next thing ya know your human engineers have white hair.”

 It’s a sad topic. One that Dinah wants to burst into tears over people she had never met. Dinah holds herself up well. She doesn’t even try counting. For some reason, she doesn’t want to be an explosion of feelings are Greaseball. The new friend she’s made doesn’t know about how her brain is broken or how big her tears get and ruin her makeup. She doesn’t want that. Something tight in her chest curls up into a ball and pulls itself together. Tighter and tighter. No numbers getting bigger, just inner thoughts of, ‘Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.’

 She hums a sad note and too looks down into her cup, “I guess it’s similar for us cars. You greet and smile at the same guests year after year and take the same order. But there come’s a day when you look at their faces and see wrinkles.”

 It’s a somber thought to have amidst a crowd of joyful trains. Greaseball is keen to keep up with that fact, choking down his whole cup, “Well! Enough of that!”

 He then gives her a toothy grin, “Don’t’cha know any spots around here for a change of scenery?”

 Dinah can’t help a small smile tug at her blue lips, “Why, in fact, I do…”

 She takes him to her favored picnic spot. With the sun set, all the trains and humans are gone. Trees branches and leaves sway in the wind. The benches and wheel tracks used by fellow trains are cold.

 Greaseball and Dinah find a bench under the stars. Cloud coverage is low for the night. Blue and silver stars twinkle above.

 “I used to come here after work, years ago,” the dining car shares as her eyes adjust to the bright night sky. “No one hangs around here in the open once it gets dark.”

 “I see…” He follows her gaze, “Do you… Believe in the Starlight Express?”

 “Not really. Do you?”

 “I, uh, not really,” Greaseball awkwardly coughs into one fist before lowering it near Dinah’s. Their fingers touch and he’s quick to pull away, “Ah, sorry!”

 “S- Sorry too,” her fingers are yanked back at the same time from surprise. Under the cover of darkness, they couldn’t tell that the other as blushing.

 They settle back into comfortable sitting positions. Greaseball keeps his hand a good distance from her’s. His eyes on the sky full of its glimmering stars, “Back in Texas, there’s always races. Races in the yard, races by the highways, races by the fields. You don’t have ta go far if yer lookin’ for a race.”

 Dinah too keeps her eyes on the stars, trying to spot constellations, “And you often looked for them?”

 “I was actually always challenged to them,” the locomotive shrugs. “It’s just normal there. The other locomotives loved ta race to blow off steam. Usually one-on-one, but sometimes a freight car or two would be pulled along. A hot day was easy to forget if you could feel the wind ripping through your hair.”

 She laughs, glancing at him, “And you won a lot?”

 “After I got more comfortable in my adult build, yes,” he catches her eye, giving a slight smile. “I started winning almost every race I was in. I decided to try winnin’ for keeps instead of waiting for my checks.”

 “That’s funny, Sunstinger would say that too about how he started racin’.”

 “Who?”

 “My mentor’s partner.”

 “Oh, I see. Ain’t nothing wrong with earning a little extra through talent.”

 “Of course,” she goes to look back up at the stars.

 “Where did Sunstinger go?”

 “Away, northwest,” her tone changes to something bittersweet. “Abigail left with ‘im. They race the Canadian locomotives and I get a post card every now and then.”

 “Must be nice.”

 “It is.”

 Awkward silence falls for a few minutes. The clouds revolve with the world, but the stars are stationary.

 That tight ball in Dinah’s chest uncurls, but only slightly. She sighs, “I’m scared, for tomorrow’s race.”

 “I, uh, I promise it’s not gonna be so bad,” Greaseball tries to give her a smile. “Just imagine ‘em all as that one caboose you punched.”

 Her mood plumets. Now she’s thinking about that incident and the upcoming race, “I’d rather not.”

 The diesel grows quiet, brain working overtime as to what to say. There’s not a lot that’s coming to mind so he tells the truth, “…tomorrow is my first ever two-train race.”

 Her eyes grow wide and she sharply turns to Greaseball. That tight ball in her chest unfurls, “WHAT?!”

 “As a solo racer, I wanna break into tha big leagues,” he’s jostled by her outburst but Greaseball continues. “I have to do partnership regionals. Tomorrow is the first time I race with a real partner.”

 “And you decided to find a partner the day before?!”

 He flinches, “I was hopin’ someone would come over ta me at the day of the race but…”

 Dinah’s face is set in disbelief before his words start to sink in, “But…?”

 “…I was impressed a whole lot by you.”

 She blinks in surprise. The two trains just stare at one another for a bit of time, “Really?”

 “I meant every word the night before,” slowly, the diesel adjusts himself. “I… You really hold yourself up well in a stressful environment. You know about the races. Dinah, I like your reflexes.”

 Pause.

 “NOT LIKE THAT!” Greaseball shouts aloud, honking.

 Dinah’s eyebrows set themselves into a line, “You… You’re being honest? Swear to tha Starlight and everything?”

 He puts a hand to his chest, “Honest, Dinah. I really wanna race with you.”

 Her eyes travel down, away from Greaseball. That ball in her chest curls and uncurls. Her fists want to punch, her eyes want to water, and her fueling system wants her to vomit. Is she in too deep now? Is it too late to back out?

 She only has one chance.

 “I’ll race with you,” her blue eyes find Greaseball’s glowing yellows in the dark. “Just this once, and then we’ll go from there.”

 Relief floods the locomotive and he sits up straight, “Thank you, Dinah. Thank you! I promise you, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to protect ya on the tracks.”

 His begging is kind of cute. She can’t help by smile, “Then put your money where yer mouth is.

 The sun rises the next day, flooding the blue night sky with a flaming yellow.

[captainmvf]

"Dreamin' of Blue" -Chapter 3

[Starlight Express Big Bang 2026 event fic.] @starexbigbang2026

'Before they were the Championship King and Queen of the rails, Greaseball was just another UP diesel from Texas and Dinah was a dining car with explosive emotions. Before there was cheating and uncoupling, there was a visiting Greaseball who just wanted to order breakfast from the sweet dining car at the diner.''Dinah has been dreaming of the blue horizon for a long time. Her mentors long gone and her passion for the races dwindling, maybe that dream should stay a dream. That is, until she meets Greaseball.'

[Ao3 Link. Only viewable to those with an AO3 account.]

 Dinah starts wiping down counters, her eyes drawn to her wrist as it makes circular motions. A shined surface resembles the full moon and like the light in his yellow starlit eyes…

 It’s after the lunch rush and the sun is still shining brightly outside as there are only a few guests inside enjoying cold drinks and sandwiches. She’s still tired from the night before. Darker blue eyeshadow and a fainter flesh-toned lipstick for today don’t do her favors with those tired eyes.

 Her gloomy demeaner isn’t lost on her coworkers. Some give her a wide berth and ask from time to time if she needs a fifteen or a breather. Susan is the only one to take direct action after an hour of seeing her lost in her own thoughts.

 She approaches Dinah as she prepares fresh coffee, “Okay. What’s goin’ on with you?”

 The blonde just softly shakes her head, “I dunno. I guess I just miss being on tha rails.”

 Huffing, the older woman crosses her arms, “And not about that new friend of yours that didn’t come in fer breakfast?”

 “He didn’t?” Dinah turns to her, raising an eyebrow.

 “Nope,” Susan smirks before leaning against the bar. “What’s with you and ‘im? Did he put the moves on you or somethin’ or is he just ignorin’ ya?”

 “No, no,” the dining car sighs and decides that- Fuck it. She grabs an empty mug and pours herself a cup of coffee. A bit of skim milk and brown sugar too. Dinah takes a sip as Susan patiently watches her, “He’s been nice. Real nice. He chased off a creep last night on my way back.”

 “Oh! How chivalrous.”

 She gives a faint chuckle and takes another sip, “Yeah… He’s a train too and we talk about races here and there. He’s been good company.”

 The sandy-haired woman gives her a nod, “Good on you, makin’ a new friend.”

 Another chuckle, “Yeah. I kind of miss him.”

 “Then why you mopin’ around?”

 She shakes her head, “It’s nothin’. Just that loco askin’ me to race with him tomorrow. Like I don’t have my own needs to pay for.”

 Like an extra poofy mattress for her bed back at the yard. Dinah was sure to make the rest of the dining cars extra jealous of having a nice princess-like bed. They’d probably all demand for Dinah’s bed to host the next sleepover. Or some new extra special perfume that wasn’t too flowery and would be great to wear on future dates.

 Susan piles used mugs into her dirty dish bin to take back to the dish washing sink, “Girl. How long have you worked here? Three years?”

 “Plus six months.”

 “And what have you done with that time? Go and run off to practice for that race!”

 “What?!” Dinah snaps at attention back towards her as Susan gets back to work, “Su- Have ya lost yer mind?”

 “Nuh-uh, have you lost yours?” She whips back towards her, “Dinah, do you honestly not racing? Do you wanna be off the rails for the rest of yer life?”

 “You know I’m not workin’ my passenger shifts for another month.”

 “But you love watchin’ the races on TV and spouting facts ta us,” Susan stacks some more dirty dishes from a table nearby. She then yells over the counter, “Hey! Roger!”

 His head appears out from the serving area, “What?”

 “Tell Dinah she’s bein’ an idiot.”

 Roger looks towards Dinah, “What happened?”

 Dinah rolls her eyes, “I got asked to race-”

 “Her new friend asked her to race but she declined,” Susan interrupts.

 “WHAT?!” Roger stands up straight, putting his hands on his hips, “You gotta get ready for that race.”

 “I’m not going.”

 “Dinah,” Susan sets down the dirty dish bin and holds one of Dinah’s empty hands. “I’m all for supportin’ ya but are you really happy working here?”

 The blonde’s lips twist. She looks Susan in the eye, “…only the breakfast shift.”

 “And ya miss being on the rails?”

 She nods, “I’ve kind of wanted to race too, for awhile now.”

 “And when will that be?”

 Dinah is quiet. Her eyes go to the window with their slim blinds semi-closed. The sun was shining and the sky was so blue.

 …what had she been passionate about? Dinah has to think about it for a second. All dining cars knew how to cook and bake and she had found enjoyment in that. Some pride, even. The nostalgia of being with Sweet Abigail and Sunstinger on the tracks was strong, but she would be lying if the call to have the wind rush through your hair and cross the finish line with trains you care about wasn’t hard to ignore. Being in root form in a train was one thing, but allowing your wheels to get you to fly down the tracks and out speed the competition?

 Susan takes Dinah’s silence as doubt, sighing, “Dinah, I don’t wanna force you into anythin’. But how about you try takin’ the day off and deciding what you want?”

 The dining car blinks at her, “I can do that?”

 “Yeah. Screw it,” she let’s go of Dinah’s hand to get back to work. “I can punch you out. Go out and practice racing or chase after your man. Just give it some thought, yeah?”

 Dinah nods, “Yeah. Actually, I think I should.”

 “Alright!” Roger cheers before dipping back to his station in the kitchen, “Chase your dreams, Di!”

 The dining car laughs before finishing her coffee. Susan dips back to the dishwashing station to drop off her dirty dishes and to punch Dinah out. She adjusts her apron and takes her exit after shouting goodbyes to her coworkers.

 Dinah takes a jog around the trainyard as the midday shift. Human and train workers bustling around as freight trains prepare themselves for nightly runs and Control belts out orders from the old speakers. She quickly dodges around the busy bees and gets back to her true train car form before merging back into her comfortable two-wheeled form.

 It’s comforting being in this form, her wheels charging her right along the commuting path for trains as the wind whips through her hair and skirts. She has enough energy and time to ponder what she should do for the rest of the day.

 The trail leads her right back to the picnic area where trains and humans alike are eating their packed lunches or catching up with one another. It’s not her scene to get acquainted with at the moment so she goes around the edges and keeps to the grassy area.

 She looks up onto the sky and spots a sparse amount of clouds. Thin and weak, not a hint of rain. Dinah sighs as her eyes trace the roofs in the yard against the sky.

 ‘…that cage you call a diner.’

 The yard feels like one too, sometimes.

 Dinah huffs, raising her hand up to look at them. Fingerless white gloves meant to grip trays and catch her falls. Grip couplers in a train. Sweet Abigail had the same ones.

 That’s right, her mentor had gone off with Sunstinger ages ago. They were in another yard on the other side of the country, racing away their days. It had been a tearful goodbye, but Abigail had told her she was loved and ready to face the world.

 So far, her world had only been serving humans and trying hard not to explode with emotion.

 When she looks up at the sun through slitted eyes, Dinah swears it’s so bright it’s almost not yellow anymore. A bright yellow eye in the blue sky.

 “Greaseball!”

 That familiar cry halts the locomotive in his tracks. Upon the dusty gravel of the training field, he swivels on one wheel to meet the source.

 Dinah the dining car runs towards him in an old pair of denim overalls and a white button-up with puffy sleeves. Her wheels bounce against the dusty trail with practiced ease as if she were born to run. Blonde hair kept in a tighter bun and her facial markings of winged blue eyeliner and soft baby blue blush is more vibrant that usual.

 A smile grows on his lips and he laughs aloud, “Changed yer mind?”

 She grins back and slows to a stop to meet him, “Maybe I needed a bit o’ convincin’.”

 “Yer work don’t mind you bein’ out?”

 Dinah waves her hand, giving a half smile, “I think they’ll manage. I got coverage, just in case.”

 Greaseball nods in approval, “Well… It’s afternoon so we don’t have much time. Think you can hook up ta me and keep up?”

 “Let’s ride.”

[captainmvf]

"Dreamin' of Blue" -Chapter 2

[Starlight Express Big Bang 2026 event fic.] @starexbigbang2026

'Before they were the Championship King and Queen of the rails, Greaseball was just another UP diesel from Texas and Dinah was a dining car with explosive emotions. Before there was cheating and uncoupling, there was a visiting Greaseball who just wanted to order breakfast from the sweet dining car at the diner.''Dinah has been dreaming of the blue horizon for a long time. Her mentors long gone and her passion for the races dwindling, maybe that dream should stay a dream. That is, until she meets Greaseball.'

[Ao3 Link. Only viewable to those with an AO3 account.]

[WARNING: Gross sexual comments this chapter.]

 It’s a pleasant day even after Greaseball takes his leave. Dinah ends up smiling a lot more than usual. Even the guests she serves afterwards notice and tip her more. She even goes back to her shed and checks her schedule over without stress.

 When she flips her calendar to the next month and stares at a date circled with red marker, Dinah sighs. One more month before she’s put back onto the rails. Five more weeks of diner shifts as per her agreement. She curls up into her bed and hopes that the remaining weeks are stress-free.

 To her surprise, Greaseball returns the next day.

 “Welcome back!” Dinah calls out to him as she replenishes a table’s drinks and takes any dishes that are complete. “Take a seat anywhere.”

 Greaseball sits himself at an empty spot at the bar and Susan hands him a menu, “Coffee?”

 “Please, with a side of milk.”

 Susan hums and obliges. After she serves him his milk, she goes to another table to take their order. He glances at the menu, his mind already made up to have the same as yesterday. Behind his shades, those yellow eyes drift around the diner and notice that the other servers and employees are very orderly despite the chaos of the breakfast rush. Bussers hurry back to the employees only area with their boxes of dirty dishes held aloft and away from moving bodies. Servers memorize orders to notepad while taking note of their customers and surroundings. Even the chefs line up orders in a neat file that servers are able to keep track of.

 “Kept ya waiting?” Dinah slides behind the bar to inspect the coffee maker and cold drink pitchers before turning to him. Her blue eyeshadow is neater today, less smokey as it had been the day before.

 “You’re right on time, actually,” Greaseball gives a half-smile in response, putting his copy of the menu down. “I was about to order the same as yester-”

 “SHIT!!”

 On Greaseball’s left, one customer forgot they had a coffee mug near their elbow as they quickly adjusted themselves in their seat. The mug slides quickly off the bar and down to the floor below-

 But Dinah is able to catch it with one hand.

 She put the empty mug upright back onto the bar with a cheerful smile, “Here ya go!”

 “Thanks, miss,” the guest breathes a sigh of relief and takes the mug back.

 Greaseball keeps his eyes on Dinah, astonished. First she was standing before him, lax, as they talked. The next thing he knew, Dinah had grabbed the mug out of the air. It was as if she had been blue lightning in that single moment.

 “So, those breakfast platters again?” Dinah turns to him with her notepad as if nothing had happened.

 “R- Right,” he delivers the same order as yesterday but with the addition of extra maple syrup.

 As Dinah leaves, Greaseball watches her back for a moment before taking a long sip from his coffee. His head rolls together many thoughts into an idea as the chatter and noise of the diner continues on.

 Disappointedly, Dinah doesn’t get the breakfast shift tomorrow. She instead has the late night dinner crowd with its bigger menu and fussy guests. Breakfast for one table. Only coffee for one person. Steak and lamb chops or a whole train of disguised cars as celebration for a job well done. It’s these shifts that Dinah misses being on the rails surrounded by other trains the most.

 Many of the customers who order alcohol eye her as if she were one of the juicy steak platters too. It makes her sick to her stomach.

 There’s only so many times she can make fresh coffee and count to eighty. No fists need to fly tonight.

 So she does her best to smile, greet the guests, take their orders, and make sure the coffee is nice and hot. Just in case it needs to be poured elsewhere.

 Soon enough, she’s saying her goodbyes to her coworkers and making sure her timesheet is punched out correctly. Check payments are always given on Fridays and Dinah is holding out mixed excitement because her payments are just two days away. She’s doing the math for her hourly rates as she starts her trek towards the rails her true form is parked on.

 The yard has old yellow lights that flicker over the walkways and rails. Only larger buildings, businesses, and train sheds had lights attached to the sides to illuminate themselves as destinations. Cranes, water towers, and other suspicious shadows jut out from the darkness. Abigail had tried to instill the habit of having a flashlight on hand at night but after misplacing five of them Dinah had given up.

 She sighs, following the lights that lead to her destination. Another shift she didn’t like soon to be followed up by a lunch shift wherein she wouldn’t be getting much sleep. It was nights like these she missed working only morning shifts three times a week to balance out her railway duties.

  Just five more weeks, Dinah. Five more weeks.

 Her moping is interrupted by the cloud of smoke up ahead in the lights along the pathway. She slows, her eyes trailing the smoke towards its source.

 A man in engineering overalls smokes his cigarette in peace while leaning against the lamppost. His face is mostly obscured by his thick helmet that’s been scratched a few times.

 Dinah keeps walking, keeping her eyes forward and senses alert.

 He notices her through the smoke, “Heya baby, why the long face?”

 Count to eighty, Dinah. Keep walking.

 She does so, ignoring him. Her fingers start to curl.

 “C’mon, don’t leave me in the cold,” he adjusts himself, no longer leaning against the post. His boots scuff against the pavement and the false heart in Dinah’s chest races at the sound.

 Dinah continues to look ahead. She just needs to turn a corner and find her body. If anything dire happens, she can just poof out of her disguise and wake up on the rails. It would suck and hurt a bunch but at least she could dash away faster on wheels.

 It doesn’t get better as she tries to make distance from him. He follows, “You got a great body… I’d be happy to do anything with that.”

 She doesn’t make it thirty. Dinah spins around to snap at him, “What is your problem?! Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to go home?!”

 He stalls, almost surprised, “Why are you mad? I just gave you a compliment.”

 “It was NOT a compliment! You sad gross things about me! You have no RIGHT to be that mean and gross!”

 “And I guess you can’t take a compliment, eh? What? You taken or somethin’?”

 “I ain’t. And I wouldn’t be smitten by you! You gross cre-”

 “You bitch!” He raises his hand and aims for her-

 -only for a thick leather gloved hand to grab ahold of his arm and growl in warning, “That’s enough outta you.”

 Scared, both the worker and Dinah turn to see this newcomer appear out of the darkness. Yellow eyes narrowed in disgust, triangular teeth clenched together.

 Wheels clack over cement and the yellow rectangular lines on his cheek give it away: Greaseball the diesel locomotive had arrived on the scene. Engine rumbling dangerously, heat escaping his hidden vents.

 The diesel locomotive clenches the man’s wrist and growls, “Did your mama never teach ya to lay a hand on a woman or somthin’?”

 With a few twists and pulls, the engineer is allowed to escape his grip. He growls back at the train, “Can’t you see I’m having a conversation-”

 “The only thing I’m seein’ is you leaving,” Greaseball takes a step forward, now under the light. Shadows obscure the top half of his face, his eyes glowing, “Now git.”

 Not one to be on the receiving end of a locomotive’s wrath, the man turns on his tail and flees. He disappears into the dark.

 Dinah gives it a minute before breathing out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Greaseball.”

 He relaxes, eyes softening as he gazes at her, “Anythin’ for you, Dinah. Just being a decent train.”

 “Right…” She stares at the concrete beneath her white lace-up boots. Dinah had smelled like grease and coffee grounds while leaving work but now the air is filled with nicotine and diesel exhaust.

 Greaseball is worried by her silence, “Hey, you alright there? He didn’t actually lay a hand on you?”

 “No. Look, I’m just tired,” the blonde gives him a small smile that’s strained. “You helped me out and it’s been a long day. I wish I could offer you some free coffee or somethin’ but it’s late and my mind is fried.”

 “Hey, hey. None taken,” he waves a hand. “Is your root form at least nearby? Don’t want you zippin’ off in your state.”

 “Yeah, I’m nearby. Goin’ straight to my shed after that.”

 “Good.”

 “And you?”

 “Pardon?”

 “Why are you here late at night?”

 Greaseball crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, “I… I was passin’ by tonight. I finished having dinner with my manager and wanted to have a midnight run through here. Best place ta run is always quiet tracks.”

 A genuine smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “Yeah… I guess so.”

 “I missed you at breakfast this morning.”

 “Right. I had the dinner shift tonight.”

 “Oh.”

 There’s an awkward silence that follows. A quiet breeze flows through the yard and gently ruffles the few trees in the giant yard. Some loose strands of Dinah’s blonde hair escape from her loose bun to brush against her face. Greaseball’s fingers twitch.

 If this were to happen with any other stranger, Dinah would give her thanks and be on her way home. But this is Greaseball. He wasn’t much of a stranger anymore and she liked being around him so far.

 But she doesn’t have to think of what to do next, as Greaseball is the one to start, “Uh, you know that regional race happening this weekend? I wanted to ask you somethin’ about it this morning.”

 Both of her hands find each other and Dinah interlaces her fingers together, “Yes?”

 “Would you like to be my partner for it?”

 This stuns Dinah. She stares at him, face falling, “Huh?”

 “I was wonderin’ if you’d like to partner up with me for the race?”

 Dinah is silent once more before looking anywhere but Greaseball, “Greaseball, I- I’m honored but I’ve never raced before.”

 “It’s okay. We got a whole day before the race so there’s time to get you ready. All you gotta do is stay behind me and I can keep ya safe from the other trains.”

 “That- That’s not really reassuring.”

 “Dinah, I’ve seen you work at your job. You’re great at managing chaos.”

 “But I don’t know you!” She blurts out, fists clenched at her sides, “Yer askin’ a total stranger to race with you.”

 Their eyes lock and the locomotive gives her a moment before continuing, “Yeah. I know we barely know one another, but I would be honored if you helped me out.”

 “Why?” ‘I should’ve known he just wanted me for somethin’. Man or train or both, rarely any of them are this nice…’

 “Because you have a talent,” unfurling his arms, Greaseball gestures softly with his hands. “And I like talkin’ with you. Like I said, I respect how you manage yourself and others at yer job. You’d be wonderful on the rails.”

 “I punched a train,” she tells him. “A few of them. I’m not allowed to work on the rails for a while.”

 “Then you’re already rearing for a race,” he shows his sharp teeth in a grin. “I bet you can punch us into first place.”

 “You-!” Flustered, Dinah wrings her hands in front of her and groans, “Greaseball! I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think this is a grand idea!”

 “But would you ever wanna race?”

 “Yes!” Dinah blurts it out faster than she can process, “No- I- I need time!”

 “Okay, doll-”

 “Dinah.”

 “Okay, Dinah,” his lips twist. “You got about twenty-four hours to make up yer mind. Race is in two days and I’m not puttin’ you on tha tracks without some proper training.”

 Her gaze goes to the dirt track below. A new pressure growing on her shoulders, “I’ll think about it.”

 That’s how it should end. Greaseball doesn’t move his legs nor unclicks his wheels. Instead, he sighs, “I would like to race with you. I really would. You’ve got clear talent and it makes me sad knowing you’re in that cage called a diner.”

 She sits outside under the giant oak tree and feels the summer wind hug her frame. Her wheels touch the grass and gravel. The picnic area she and other trains would visit for lunch and dinner throughout the day is alit with all the stars in the midnight sea and beyond. Her arms are folded under her as she sits at the picnic table as her chin rested on one fist and her spare hand was placed against her shoulder.

 Once upon a time, she would sit here in the late evenings with Sweet Abigail and Sunstinger after a long day of race practice. Her mentor had been Sunstinger’s racing partner and she would get to watch the dining car and BNSF locomotive perform tight turns and accelerated tricks. At the end of it, she would be allowed to hitch up behind Abigail as they returned to the yard. There were even times when she got to cling to Sunstinger’s couplers and he’d race her around the dirt tracks with glee.

 Sometimes she reads in a book about how a human family performs their homely rituals of love and compares it to what it had been like when Abigail and Sting were still around. Thoughts like these make her chest hurt.

 Many times they would come to this picnic area at the end of a busy workday and find a crowd of fellow trains and human workers sharing food and stories. Sunstinger would trade friendly locomotive greetings and Abigail would catch up on the gossip and going ons from her fellow cars. Dinah would even catch up with her younger friends and a few locomotives would tease her to spill Sting’s secrets or for embarrassing dirt on him all in good fun.

 Few times they would come back and there would be no one here. It would be a peaceful evening with just those three. On one such occasion where Abigail was preparing food for an outdoor meal, Sunstinger and Dinah sat next to one another to watch the sunset. A summer wind just like this very night would brush between them.

 Sting gently placed an arm around her shoulders and pointed towards the setting sun. His dark orange nail scraping the darkened horizon as the red hot sun was absorbed into it. The diesel locomotive’s voice was clear as a bell still to this day, “Dinah, the world was made with wind in mind. We trains were made for speed in order to chase it.”

 Closing her eyes, Dinah felt the wind. She imagined trains beside her all racing for a blue horizon. Fuel pumping in their lines, wheels flying down the track. Her hands gripping tightly onto couplers of a train she trusted above all else.

 When she opens her eyes, she’s back in the present

 It’s only a dream.

[captainmvf]

"Dreamin' of Blue" -Chapter 1

[Starlight Express Big Bang 2026 event fic.] @starexbigbang2026

'Before they were the Championship King and Queen of the rails, Greaseball was just another UP diesel from Texas and Dinah was a dining car with explosive emotions. Before there was cheating and uncoupling, there was a visiting Greaseball who just wanted to order breakfast from the sweet dining car at the diner.' 'Dinah has been dreaming of the blue horizon for a long time. Her mentors long gone and her passion for the races dwindling, maybe that dream should stay a dream. That is, until she meets Greaseball.'

[Ao3 Link. Only viewable to those with an AO3 account.]

 “ARGH! My coffee is too damn lighter!”

 Back in the early twentieth century, there was a demand for factory-made train cars. Most were your run-of-the-mill trains were to be box cars and rarely ‘wake up’ or chose a humanoid two-legged form. In the middle of the century, one company was crowned the best at making dining car models and they made a series of beloved cars known as the D-Class 53.

 “I’m sorry sir! I’ll fix it right away-”

 “DARN RIGHT YOU WILL. You’re just making the coffee darker!”

 All blondes and dark brunettes and dazzling diamond smiles, the D-Class 53 were stainless steel with blue and white paints. Known for their warm customer care and knowledge on dietary needs. They were usually sold in pairs to railways and rarely built masculine. Most were efficient and quick to spot and fix mistakes and balance orders while others…

 “Hey!” Susan they lead waitress behind the bar glares at the balding old man, “Leave poor Dinah alone! She’s trying her best, smartass.”

 “Mm sowry…” Dinah sniffles and dribbles as the coffee pot she’s holding pours a waterfall into the angry customer’s porcelain mug. The medium roast was way past the comfortable lightness and now into black territory. Not to mention, creating a tremendous puddle on the bar’s surface.

 …others were like Dinah.

 You see, no one knew how Dinah had become Dinah. She was along the assembly line like all of her sisters and brothers and yet when she had woken up she had been the smallest and most emotional of the lot. ‘Little Di’ is what they would tease her until she would start throwing her fists with steam bursting from her ears.

 Dinah, on all accounts, was a perfectly working dining car. She was perhaps one of the best examples of her build. The only issue was that the wires or processing in her brain were crossed or perhaps too wound up. Or perhaps she had a stronger charge in her system. Or maybe it was that her circuits were too fast to zap the correct emotional response. Her poor mentor, Sweet Abigail the dining car of a generation before Dinah’s, had taken her to a larger repair shed to get a proper look at and the male technician had concluded her condition with two words:

 ‘Too emotional.’

 She mops up the mess with a rag and then the rest on the floor with the mop long after the disgruntled customer had left. Sighing, the dining car’s shoulders slump.

 “Oh, cheer up,” Susan collects plates and mugs left behind from other guests to be taken to the sink in the back. She balances all the dirty dishes in one hand with ease, “He’s never coming back. And if he does return, we’ll refuse service.”

 “Yeah…” Dinah still sniffles even if all the coffee she had spilled had been cleaned up. A dark thought drips out of her dry eyes that maybe she or her sensitive thoughts should just melt into a puddle so that too could be cleansed from the Earth.

 Roger, the human chef in the back, rings the bell, “Order up! Dinah- Hey! Don’t look so down. Need me to whip you up a side of fries?”

 “Ugh! Give her some yogurt for once,” Susan collects the plates of French toast for a booth near the southwest side of the restaurant.

 “I want fries…” Dinah packs away the mop towards an Employee’s Only area. “And a fried egg on top, please.”

 Roger, her savior, does just that. He even adds some pepper and hot sauce for her for flavoring. Who knew crying burns calories. At least her coworkers were nice and allowed her to eat her ‘lite snack’ on an early break before the owner was to arrive to collect the money from the drawers and make a stop at the bank.

 Enjoying her second breakfast as less and less customers arrived, Dinah looks up at one of the television sets resting on a shelf at the northmost wall. Its screen was tiny and connection to the powerlines faulty at times but it got the job done. Currently, it was set for one of the local races. Trains in their wheeled forms racing around a wide bend. Each partnerless and some taking swipes at their empty couplers to slow the competition down.

 Dinah rolls her eyes and finishes, feeling much better. She collects her dirty basket and used utensils before making it back behind the counter ready for duty once more. With her dirty dishes returned and hands washed, Dinah starts to brew a fresh batch of coffee.

 Like every other time the door opens and the bell above the frame announces the newcomer or leaving customer with a jingle, Dinah peaks over her shoulder to greet them with a, “Hi! Welcome to the Sunflower! We’ll be with you in a moment.”

 Some bulky man with his dark hair slicked back gives a half-hearted wave in greeting and takes a seat at one of the barstools, “Thanks, doll.”

 It’s only been about thirty minutes since her last emotional outburst but that nickname of ‘doll’ plants a tiny nick of annoyance into her. Deep breaths, Dinah. Just greet him, take his order, try not to explode.

 She keeps the mantra going through her head as she selects a menu and a pitcher of cold ice water to take to the customer. Dinah slides towards him, mimicking any fellow disguised train without their wheels, “Welcome, welcome! My name is Dinah and today I’ll be your server. Do you need a moment to look at the menu?”

 He barely casts Dinah a second look, gingerly taking the menu and giving it a glance, “Eh… Do you serve coffee all day?”

 Dinah was still all perfect smiles and practiced customer service. She hums, filling his glass full of water, “Of course. Breakfast and coffee are served all day. Our lunch and dinner menus are served from ten AM until midnight.”

 “I see…” His thick fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as his eyebrows crease, “Guess I’ll have a coffee. Just a side of milk with it.”

 “No sugar?”

 “Please.”

 She obliges, fetching her latest guest his desired coffee and pitcher of milk. Dinah makes sure to check up on other patrons in her section of the diner to give him time to look over the menu.

 As she is taking the early lunch order from another guest, the newcomer lifts his gaze from the menu and towards the tiny television set. His expression is unreadable behind his thick wireframe shades buts unmistakable how focused he is on the racing trains.

 The trains swerve around each other and continue to throw swipes but no progress is made within the race. It’s clearly a bore and the commentators throw disappointed jabs through the muffled speakers.

 Gritting his teeth, the newcomer clenches his fist, “They just let anyone race these days…”

 A fellow man sitting just a seat over on his left noses up at the television set and grunts in agreement, “Not even one punch or tricky maneuver. I’d rather watch a partnered race.”

 He’s given a glance and a nod, “You’d think all that hype over locomotive races an’ fighting would bring more of what was advertised.”

 “Darn straight,” the engineer in a trucker hat leans back to raise his voice at the server nearest the TV. “Ey! Susan! Know of any other races today?”

 “No need ta shout, Maurice,” Susan is indifferent as she pockets her notebook and pencil to surf through the local channels. She flips through them for about a minute before Maurice and the newcomer make pleased noises at spotting partnered trains zooming down a narrow track. Diesel locomotives with cars or freight attached to their couplers.

 The two and the rest of the customers who were interested are sated by the new race. This peace doesn’t last for long as the duo in the lead are pulled back five places. Maurice and the newcomer belt out noises of disbelief at the partner slipping on their own wheels and yanking their locomotive by their couplers via proxy. Even the commentators voice their displeasure via half-censored jabs through the speakers.

 “What in the world?!” Maurice has half a mind to spit on the floor (but last time he did he was barred from buying fresh slices of pie for a week).

 “Sabotage!” The newcomer growls as other customers boo.

 He shakes his head and decides to drown another growl by taking a long sip of coffee. Grumbling into his cup, he barely notices Dinah coming back around the bar to refill drinks.

 Maurice adjusts his trucker hat and finishes his stack of pancakes and eggs, “No one can get away with that kind of act on tha rails. Where is that damn ref.”

 “Wonderin’ that too,” setting his coffee down, the dark-haired stranger huffs.

 “Their partner’s wheels are too thin to be racing.”

 He slowly turns to Dinah as she fills up an engineer’s plastic cup of water, “Beg your pardon?”

 Dinah juts her chin up at the television set as she puts away the pitcher, “His partner is one of those new tiny cars that can go on and off the track. They might’ve been chosen since less size is more speed but their root form has two sets of thinner wheels. Not good for racin’.”

 His gaze rest on her for a moment longer before he turns back to the TV to observe. Sure enough, he spots the slim bi-modal railcar mover with their thin wheels having a hard time adjusting to the changing tracks. He smirks and gives a light chuckle, “Well… What do ya know…”

 Dinah rolls through some paper receipts, back turned to the guests, “He must’ve been pullin’ his partner along into first place until he tripped up.”

 Humming faintly, the newcomer turns back to his seat. He crosses his arms and rests onto the bar, “You into train races?”

 “I know a few things,” she wraps up her tasks and turns back to him, a wry smile ghosting its way across her face. “My mentor was a racer's partner, once upon a time.”

 “They win anything?”

 “A few races. Mostly in state. Got invited out to a few regionals.”

 “Seen any up close?”

 “Not really.”

 “What?” He’s genuinely surprised, both of his eyebrows lifting away from his shades, “Not even in the yard?”

 “It’s so big here that as soon as I here two trains squarin’ off that by the time I get there the race is over,” she gives him a faint chuckle.

 “What about the regionals happening this week, just a yard away? You gonna see that one?”

 “Pssh,” she dismisses him with a wave of her hand, looking to the side in case another customer or coworker was flagging her down. “I don’t think I’ll have time off to go see that.”

 This is where many men on the other side of the counter would give her a smirk and act charismatic before asking her out on a date. They would think this is their great hook, line, and sinker moment of bagging a girl to hang off their arm and show off. Dinah already had her excuse of work ready to use again.

 But this dark-haired man doesn’t do so. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at the breakfast menu, “Darn shame. What do you recommend?”

 Dinah stares at him for a moment before that smile blooms into a real one, “We got some heavy platter dishes if yer real hungry, but you might wanna save room for pie.”

 “Pie for breakfast?”

 “Only here, sweetie.”

 So he does order a platter. He orders at least three platters of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, grits, and waffles. All topped with maple syrup. Thank goodness there’s no one sitting next to him as he tucks in. Much of the other customers take their leave as the workday has begun. Dinah helps cleaning up tables, making fresh coffee, refilling mugs and glasses, and recording paper receipts in between serving guests.

 “So, you live nearby?” The newcomer asks halfway through his meal.

 “In the yard, yes,” Dinah takes some plates back to the employee’s only area to be dropped off at the dishwashing sink before returning. “Born and raised.”

 “Ah. Like it here?”

 “It’s cozy,” she gives a half-smile, leaning against the bar. “You visiting?”

 “Just passin’ through. Got a race to win.”

 This surprises her. Dinah slowly raises one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side in thought, “Train race?”

 “Wouldn’t be in any other,” he sets his fork down to lift his shades down a tad. His eyes are a beautiful set of canary yellow with darker brown nearest the irises. Two oily pools. A diesel train.

 Dinah grins, “Oh shucks, guess I thought wrong about you.”

 “Don’t worry about it,” he winks and puts his shades back up before tucking right back into his stack of sausages. “I’d prefer to go out on the town while I’m in the shed. Better here than stuck in the repair shed sleepin’ as they inspect me.”

 Ah, so he was projecting his human disguise while his true body was at the repair shed. Like Dinah, whose train car body was resting at a set of tracks nearby while she worked. “Inspection?”

 “Well ya can’t race if yer not in tip-top shape,” his gestures with his utensils.

 “Then I bet you’re in good hands with Dr. Yusef and Fiona. They’re the yard’s top repair technicians.”

 “Hm. How do you know ‘em?”

 “Well, the two treat me very well when I need ta visit or an inspection,” she checks the coffee and feels the guest’s eyes on her back. “I don’t really trust any other repair shed in tha world.”

 “Ah. Pardon me, didn’t know you were also a train.”

 “None taken,” Dinah turns around to give him another smile, although faint. “No one really notices when it comes to me.”

 “You have a lovely projection. I didn’t even notice.”

 “Thank you!” Flustered, Dinah tries to pretend to scan the other guests in case she is needed. Business has slowed to a crawl, and everyone seated was nursing their coffee or beverages. Damn why did all the late breakfast havers need to be quiet of all times? “I- Uh, I don’t like serving on wheels here so no one really notices.”

 “I bet the breakfast rush isn’t easier if you have to weave around hungry customers.”

 Dinah laughs, “Hah! Sometimes I wish I could come in as is and do a whole routine of servin’ everyone with speedy service. I’m no fool, though. One crash on wheels in here and it’s gonna be a whole mess.”

 The two share a laugh. Was it just Dinah or did the sun become brighter outside?

 “Where are my manners,” he sets down his silverware and shades, outstretching a hand. “The name’s Greaseball. United Pacific.”

 “Greaseball, eh?” Dinah leans in closer to him before taking his hand.

 “Manufactured with that name, eyup. Go ahead and get some laughs in while you can.”

 She shakes his hand instead, “Dinah. Dining car.”

 Greaseball’s yellow eyes meet her blue ones, “Nice ta meet you.”

[captainmvf]

New video! Compilation of MAP parts I've made this year!

[captainmvf]

...maybe I've reached the point of no return in my hyperfixation wherein I cannot engage with newer people in fandom or read/watch other people's reviews and would rather just stay in my own corner.

[captainmvf]

[Preview] "Dreamin' of Blue"

A preview for my Dinah backstory fic I've been working on this year for the STEX BIGBANG 2026 (@starexbigbang2026) WOOOOO-

 Dinah’s makeshift helmet loosens as they approach the arch of their jump. Gravity sinks its claws into their protective gear as they slow. The rising morning sun peeks from under the dining car’s helmet and she gasps.  That helmet which was the cause of so much fear was now loose and Dinah’s blue eyes were truly able to see the scenery. Below them was the dirt path humans and trains alike used to go on their nature hikes and steadily approaching was Dinah’s own yard she had been brought to and raised in. The warm sun flashes its glorious light upon the buildings and trees. Barely a cloud in the sky or birds flying above.  The sky was so blue. It kissed the endless horizon beyond her yard. Beyond the fields of crops and farmers with their tractors. Past the open tarmac roads and thin wooden powerlines. It was all blue.  That fear had stalled. It shifted and then twisted itself into nothing. What took its place was something new yet oddly familiar, like meeting an old friend.  She wanted to chase it.

Coming soon~

[captainmvf]

🖤🩶🤍💜

[captainmvf]

Look who showed up to the Pride parade!

[captainmvf]

Fossil Rocks 5: Negative Two Time Zone

[Fossil Rocks is a series of one shots in no particular order of random snippets with the cast of the Fossil Fighters series games. OCs and ships are included.]

Summary for this one shot: "Magnitude can't sleep and so he scrolls aimlessly through his phone. Little does he know, his boyfriend is also awake in his own time zone."

[Ao3 link. Can only be read with an account.]

🪨⛏️🦖

 It’s almost two in the morning before a work day and Magnitude cannot fall asleep.

 He readjusts his position in bed, wrapping his arms around a large fluffy pillow and resting his head onto it again for the umpteenth time. A tired sigh escapes him.

 Genevieve ruffles her feathers at the foot of his bed and trills in her sleep. She can sense some activity but doesn’t wake from her slumber. Her vivosaur tamer wants to huff from jealously.

 Magnitude doesn’t want to open his phone. The bright lights would just keep him awake and not tire him out. He really doesn’t. He shouldn’t.

 The archivist opens his phone.

 …and there’s nothing new at this time of the day. Everyone on the American internet was dead asleep. Emails already viewed and sent. Not even work papers in the public chatlogs and such were interesting enough to reread.

 He opens up text messages again and scrolls a bit. Everything’s read and scheduled. He and Ricky are getting pizza next week. Sunshine had forgotten the door code to the employees only area the third time that month and had wanted him to pick her up and get her some tea instead of just send the door code. A reminder for a doctor’s appointment. Reminder for vet appointment. Reminder for museum reservation. Reminder for museum reservation. Text from his brother about what they were going to have for dinner three months ago…

 Then there’s the text from coworkers and friends on Caliosteo.

 Much of course came from Scatterly, his boss. The professor tromping off in one direction and getting dead tired by the time Magnitude finds him. Sometimes he sends Mags a fully typed will and testament a few minutes before the younger man finds him to deliver water or snacks. Other times it’s reminders and questions as to what expeditions they’re planning or what files they have in storage or if he’s seen his glasses.

 Then there are the kids in the Patrol Team. Rupert and Pauleen usually text him once a month, the silver-haired teen only stating where he is and Pauleen sending recipe links. Todd is right in the middle, usually asking questions about paleontology and working in a museum. Dino and Dina are on opposite ends of a similar spectrum wherein Dino likes to send pictures of things he likes or what he thinks Magnitude would like and Dina will send about five strings of text messages asking why the way the world works or what was going on at her end.

 Lester, Cole, and Lola were in his contacts as well. He and Lester would send song titles and burger restaurants back and forth. Cole would only respond to messages about meetups and plans only when prodded politely. Lola was the most casual with asking for gift ideas and advice or even planning outings to the mainland.

 Then there was his boyfriend. Magnitude opens up the message logs and smiles faintly.

 It’s all photos of good memories and mushy text messages of how much they love each other. A recent photo of Joe’s hand petting Davey with the text ‘he misses you’ under it. The Heracles had taken a liking to him recently. Possibly because how gentle he was with the super evolver. Vivosaurs and pets alike loved how good at petting he was with them. And how often he loved to pet animals of all shapes and sizes.

 So with little self-control on this very early morning, he responds:

 Magnitude

Well he’s going to have to wait a few more days. I’d love to pet him again soon.

 He sighs and tries to get comfortable once more in bed. Both hands hold onto his phone as the comforter settles over his head. Before he can swipe into another application to waste some time in he gets a response:

 Joseph

He’s not going to like that but he’ll manage.

What time is it over there? Don’t we have a time difference of two hours?

 Magnitude

It’s almost two, I think. Can’t sleep. Back hurts again.

 The scarred man checks the time again.

 Magnitude

A little after two.

I could ask the same of you. It’s after midnight over there.

 Joseph

Wish I could help :(

And yes I am finishing up reports. A Yutie was tromping past InterFol lines earlier today and I was called in for backup since I was in the area. While I was away, Illium was hit with some nasty winds that pulled up the electrical wires and crashed the system there.

 Magnitude

That’s horrible.

The system crash part.

 Joseph

You’re telling me! Most of the logs for employees and reports had to be hand-written and gathered up. All while the winds kept blowing throughout the rest of the day. You just can’t wrangle a tornado. You just can’t!!!!

I’ve tried!!!!!

 Mags snorts into his pillow at Joe’s use of exclamation marks. Maybe one of the kids had been using them more recently and they were rubbing off on his boyfriend.

 Joseph

Please at least tell me you’ll eat breakfast in the morning.

 Magnitude

If I can sleep, yeah.

I have plenty of kolaches to heat up in the morning.

 Joseph

Right

Still wish I was there with you.

 Magnitude

I wish you were here too.

But I have work tomorrow so all the cute plans of having a lazy morning here are for not.

And I want to keep cleaning that ammonite shell tomorrow at work.

 Joseph

You’ll need sleep for that.

 Magnitude

Quiet you.

<3

 He doesn’t respond for a while and Magnitude feels his eyelids get heavy. A breathe is slowly released through his nose. Finally. Finally he feels comfortable enough to close one eye.

 Joseph

Well I’ve just finished looking through the last reports of the day so there is where I officially clock out. I’ll be waking up extra early tomorrow to see how Illium is doing. I’m prepared for rogue vivosaurs to chew up the lost electrical cables if whatever the staff didn’t find turns up.

Six hours of sleep, aren’t I lucky.

 Magnitude

Above wiring cables is the only way to go with arctic conditions? I’m not too versed with wiring or fancy computers.

God. My father used to work insane hours. Ran his own company and was his only employee to the point he would crawl into bed at four in the morning and sleep for two hours. Inherited migraines from him. Or maybe it was all the coffee he drank.

Glad I try to prioritize sleep.

 Joseph

Me neither. I’ll be making some calls.

We don’t have to talk about him.

But at the very least, I’m glad you do. I like when we get to share a night together.

I get to finish work and know someone’s waiting for me.

 Magnitude

I do too.

Sharing a bed with you is nice. I sleep better when I get to hug you or lay atop of your chest.

Your heartbeat is the only one I can fall asleep to.

Besides the waves of the ocean. It’s kind of like the ocean’s heartbeat.

God. Don’t read too into that. I’m too tired for poetry.

 Joseph

Go back to that part about being in bed with me. It’s making me tired.

 He yawns. Eyelids getting heavier…

 Magnitude

Okay.

I love being in close contact with you. I don’t have to say anything, just nudge you or bonk you or something.

 Joseph

Bonk me?

 Magnitude

You know how cats like to headbutt one another and people and things they like to show affection? Mark their territory with their scent? Kind of like that

I like just leaning against you when we’re waiting or idling and I know I don’t do well with sleep positions because of my back but, when the stars align, I do like to hold one of your arms in my sleep.

You make me feel safe. Always have.

Well maybe like 99% of the time weve known one another. I thought you were a wrom at first.

 Joseph

Hey now.

Worm? Okay. I thought you were a rabbid dog.

 Magnitude

OWCH

Hurts.

 Joseph

We hated each other.

 Magnitude

That’s true. You found me cute and I stopped denying your stupid face was not gross

 Joseph

You thought I was handsome, admit it.

 Magnitude

Heh. Alright yeah.

I did like your stupid mullet too.

Made me a little jealous. I did cut off like fourteen inches of hair before meeting you.

Didn’t want to unpack having a crush.

You’re so cte, by the way

 His eyelids get so heavy that he passes out for a minute. Blearily, Magnitude opens them to find a new text:

 Joseph

Cute?

 Magnitude

Yeah

Im tired

 Joseph

I think it’s time for bed. For both of us.

 Magnitude

Yeah

Wish yuo were here. Need you to visist again

 Joseph

I will. I have time off coming up, remember?

You can show me around the inner loop again and I can make your coworkers jealous.

 Magnitude

That’s embarrassing!!!  I don’t like clout from me dating you.

People would think I’m rich or something.

 Joseph

I know. I’m just teasing.

 Magnitude

I know. I love you twooo.

I wanna take you to Galveston though. I want to see the trains again.

 Joseph

We’re going to the beach just to see the train museum?

 Magnitude

You get to be in a mail car, Joe. It’s cool.

 Joseph

Alright. Alright.

 Magnitude

And I want to see if mr e friends can meet up with us.

Trying to get Aren to come down and Dxton and orii to visit

and get ice cream

 It’s a battle to stay awake at this point. He’ll close his eyes and feel his phone slip from his grasp or his fingers press somewhere on the touchscreen they shouldn’t. There’s still a conversation to finish…

 Joseph

Hey, I will.

Besides, I think it’s time we both retired for the night.

I love you. I miss you. I can’t wait to see you again. <3

 Magnitude

I love you too <3

I love you so much its ridiculous

Please get lots of sleep

 Joseph

You do the same.

I’d try wrangling a tornado again for you. Cyclone isn’t my middle name just because it was given to me at birth. I love you that much.

 Magnitude

Please don’t.

And before you type it: Don’t even try a ‘Stone Pyramid Return’ wih me

 Joseph

Dang it.