#ttte Charlie Sands

[gundamcalibarney]

funny people that drive funny trains

#daryl draws #ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte ocs #(<- TECHNICALLY??? Hagen n Ginette n Jarret n Piero are that) #ttte crew #ttte drivers #ttte Bob Dodstein #ttte Charlie Sands #ttte Hagen Ted Archibald #ttte Ginette Adams #ttte Jarett Hall #ttte Piero Adams

[edwards-exploit]

Edward the Furness Railway K2 "Larger Seagull" Sundrian "Big Coastal Pigeon"

#live from tidmouth #creative on the mainline #ttte #thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #ttte edward #edward the blue engine #sidney hever #charlie sand #more people should know that edward's class really is called larger seagull. peak trivia #i also took some Creative Liberties that edward looks a bit more like his og basis (still modified!) for the bit. #to enhance it even

[ohjeeztrains]

Happy Edward day 2/2!!

#ttte edward #monster engines #rendered sketch #2/2 #edward the blue engine #Sydney heaver #Charlie Sands #Edward day #my art

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 12-Poltergeist:Once a Railway man...

Day 12-Poltergeist

Other Stories

Once a Railway man...

Edward was sitting contentedly in the Wellsworth yard, or he would be if it wasn't for all the clay dust. Edward was by no means a vain engine, but even for him this was too much. From flange to funnel he was covered in the pale powder, and if he was honest, it was beginning to itch. 'Hopefully my crew will be back soon' he thought with a sigh. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the warmth of the sun rather than his irritating coating.

His attempt was pleasantly foiled by the sensation of a sponge being vigorously applied to his bufferbeam.

He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of the sponge moving seemingly on its own, attacking the dust as if it had personally offended it. A rag floated a foot or two away from it and a bucket of soapy water sat off to the side.

"Good morning Mr. Charlie," Edward smiled happily.

The rag was distinctly unimpressed, flick towards, well all of him really, with disapproval.

"The twins I'm afraid. They managed to knock over one of the hoppers while I was next to it."

The rag flicked angrily towards the cab.

"They went to wash off before washing me."

Edward chuckled as the rag managed to radiate sheer disdain.

"I'm rather glad if I'm honest." The sponge paused its attack and the rag tilted as if in question. "It fell just behind my cab and I'm afraid they got the worst of it. Had they tried to clean me first...well I'd probably have been better off before."

The rag seemed to accept this and began to scrub again.

"Does the misses know you've escaped to come clean your old engine?"

The rag flicked towards the water spicket, where a floating bucket was being filled.

"A most thrilling date then."

The rag flicked his running board playfull, and Edward chuckled softly.

A few moments later, "If it's not too much of a bother..."

Water flicked onto his nose in reprimand.

"Yes, yea I know it's not a bother to ask for something I want, but it's still polite to ask nicely."

The rag and sponge paused expectantly.

"Would you mind getting my face first? It's beginning to itch something awful."

The rag and sponge dropped back into the bucket which floated onto his footplate. He felt warmth in the shape of a large calloused hand grip the bufferbeam, then his front dipped slightly as if someone had pulled themselves up onto it. The dust showed footprints now, as if a larger pair of boots stood on his footplate.

The second bucket set itself down by his driving wheels, a rag leaping out of the buckets at them with determination.

"Hello Mrs.Sand," Edward felt the sensation of a smaller, cooler hand pat his side affectionately. A brush flew out of the cleaning shed and came to a stop in front of Edward's face. Soon it was being used to carefully clean around Edward's eyes. "Thank you for this," Edward sighed in relief as some of the itching spots were soothed. "I know this is nowhere as nice as..."

Edward was interrupted by the sensation of a large warm hard gently pressing against his cheek. Edward happily leaned into his old Driver's touch.

#ttte edward #ttte #ttte fanfic #RWS #rws fanfic #traintober #traintober22 #traintober2022 #ttte charlie sand #sodor crews are angels #Prompt:poltergeist #traintober 2022

[jobey-wan-kenobi]

Untitled fic number 66?

This one also goes out to @weirdowithaquill!

So, this is for a fic that was meant to be a "day in the life" sort of deal, a sort of spiritual prequel to Ex Condor, but this time it is Edward in 1947.

Although it's an "ordinary day" (at least—it starts as one) there are mounting clues (and Thomas coming right out and saying it) that the engines are anxious about what nationlisation is going to mean for them. (There are rumours that the Fat Director will move to Manchester to become controller of the entire Midland region! Which is actually their best-case scenario, but still a daunting prospect.) It is also helpful to know that this is in the same universe where Topham Hatt and Charlie Sand have some mutual tension that everyone tries to shove under the rug in order to carry on with things.

This scene is technically at/right after the climax of the plot. I still plan to finish and publish the whole fic one of these days but it might be years. In the meantime, we all already knew that FC1 would retain control of the North Western even under nationalisation so how much of a "spoiler" is this? I ask you.

I also ask you to consider that early RWS!Edward — eager, childlike, and wholehearted — is really freakin' cute, and you do not want to wait years to read this.

NO ANGST. ALL CLOVER. GOOD VIBES ONLY.

---

​​The return had to be the best run of Edward’s life. Clarence hushed him a good few times, when Edward absent-mindedly began to sing; the engine had no idea how the saloon could keep so calm but he did appreciate it, for without being checked he should have shouted the news from the hilltops. The joy throughout the whole train was palpable, and he felt it in his very heat-pipes. At first he didn’t have much steam to spare for self-control or rational thought… though a good eighty or ninety miles in and it all the sudden became easy. His wheels went numb and seemed to pound along of their own accord, his heart was somewhere up in the stars, and he was simply at one with the night. 

The journey seemed to merge into eternity, and yet it was all too soon that they approached old Furness territory, came to the bridge, went through the tunnel, encountered the gradual side of their own hill. When they pulled into their own station at quarter to two, Edward felt both exhausted and sure that he could have gone twice as long. It was a wonderful heady rush. Little wonder, that it had taken Gordon two decades to stop regaling them all with reminisces of when he had been run-in on the East Coast Main Line. Edward whistled for first one triumph, and then again for the other. And then again because he was laughing and couldn’t help it. 

There had never been such a night as this. It must be a dream. It was all too good to be true. 

But controller, assistants, and crew all disembarked, and they were in just as high spirits. The small party in Clarence had evidently had a drink or three to celebrate, and Mr Hatt was remarkably light on his feet. 

On the platform, he and Mr Sand accidentally made eye contact, and Mr Sand cracked, ducking his head to partially hide a slow grin. “Well done, sir,” he said, sounding as though the words were being pulled out of him against his will, “congratulations.” And then Mr Hatt smiled too, and somehow everyone collectively burst into deep belly laughs. They all clasped hands and shoulders yet again, as if they needed the touch to be sure everyone else was real. Edward whistled again, sheerly for seeing them so happy, and even Clarence went so far as to eye the noisy little gathering with a certain benevolence. 

“Good news, sir?” enquired the stationmaster, emerging from the house, in full uniform and looking harried.

“Does it look bad?” retorted the Fat Controller, all booming merriment. “I cannot announce it tonight. But conjecture, man; conjecture!” 

“Very good, sir.” The stationmaster flashed a sincere if baffled smile of his own, but went on soberly: “I beg your pardon, sir, but we need Edward down the branch line; the harbor train still hasn’t been taken; and there’s a gentleman on the phone for you, he’s been calling every hour—”

Every other man present gave a good-natured, even rather chucklesome groan. 

“Ahh,” said one of the assistants. “Right back into it.” 

“Our carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin,” sighed the other, amused. 

“If it’s Manchester,” the Fat Controller told the stationmaster, “then never mind. I’ve taken care of it. Tell them to read the papers tomorrow.” 

“I’m afraid it’s Ulfstead, sir.” 

The Fat Controller, still smiling broadly, sighed and ground the palms of his hands against his eyes. “And to think I fought to keep this job. Very well, stationmaster. I will be just a moment. But I must overrule your arrangements for the harbor train. This engine and his crew have earned a rest.” 

“We have a relief crew at the ready. But the loaner is still laid up, and Myron was re-routed to the mainland. There are no engines in steam to be had. If not Edward, we’ll have to ask the L.M.S. to take it—”

“Give them a last hurrah,” said Mr Sand flatly. “Makes no odds now. This engine is off-duty.” 

“No, indeed,” protested Edward, only a little breathless. “I’m up for it! That train’s none too heavy nor fast. The L.M.S., indeed!” 

Mr Sand chuckled a bit, but shook his head and sounded firm. “I know you’re flying high now. But you’re going to feel this, tomorrow.” 

“I’m sorry to contradict, driver, but that just is what it is. We can’t pass off that train, tonight of all nights.” Edward whistled without even realizing it. “The L.M.S.! To-night!” 

Everyone except the stationmaster, knowing well the source of this indignation, simply had to laugh for sheer pride all over again.

“Ahem!” the Fat Controller coughed pointedly, “I believe I am the one who makes these decisions. In fact I have a little piece of paper here that says so…” 

This time even the stationmaster genuinely smiled. The outcome of Mr Hatt’s emergency meeting was becoming more and more obvious each passing minute. 

The Fat Controller, chuckling at his own joke and his own victory, held his watch up to the lamplight, and then carefully pocketed it. “Stationmaster, tell his lordship I have just arrived and will call him back on the hour. I trust I may use your phone, and, in the meantime, my men will fill you in. We won’t say no to a little hospitality, either. Driver, Edward will take the harbor train. I assure you that I shall have his morning timetable covered so that he may have a lie-in. If you insist that only you can prepare him properly I am sure the relief won’t argue with you. And Edward—” He turned around, and added with great seriousness. “Thank you.” 

Edward blushed. It was plain that his controller was referring to more than taking on the harbor job. It was even a great deal more than simply the ride he had been given that evening. 

It encompassed all the thirty-odd years of reasons that the Fat Controller had not wanted Myron to be the engine to take him, not on this occasion, and Edward was warmed through, deeply touched. “My pleasure, sir.” 

After the Fat Controller spoke another few low words to Clarence, Edward took him away to the carriage shed. Clarence yawned a little, once they were out of sight and earshot of the lit station. Perhaps the strange comment about turning into a pumpkin had shaken him out of his usual reserve.

“That was probably the last important turn of duty I shall I ever have,” he mused aloud, as he was shunted into place under shelter. 

“Nonsense,” said Edward. “You’re wanted quite often, and there’s no new saloon coming.” 

“I said important turn of duty. I know I shall take the directors and their wives to many another picnic or club, and you will never hear me murmur a word against it. But that was the last of the backroom deals where history is written that I shall ever host.” 

“The last, and the greatest, I suppose?” 

“I did not say that.” Clarence sighed his eyes closed, but he was smiling a little too, well-satisfied with himself. “But this much I suppose I may say. It has been a fine life, collecting secrets.” 

“And never telling them,” Edward said… a little too gravely. 

Clarence, being no fool, opened one sleepy eye. 

“You’re just a locomotive. You wouldn’t understand.” 

#ttte fic #fic snippets #jobeywrites #ttte #the railway series #ttte edward #the fat controller #charlie sand #ttte oc #ttte coaches #wip ask game

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Hey! Sorry I know you're really busy, so you don't have to respond it's fine. I hope your day's going alright! :3

I was just wondering if you had any fanfics that feature Charlie and Sidney? Or could recommend any?

I believe I've read one from you before? I have no idea what it was called though, oops. But I remember it being really good! I think it featured bo-co?

Man, was I that shirty to that one anon? Sorry. You guys aren't bothering me. It was one specific person spamming my box. I love my asks!

I can't think of anyone but me who has written extensively about Charlie and Sidney. (Except... coincidentally... ToonGuy. He started coming up with a whole lil' background thing for them in 'Abridged', interspersed throughout S4-S5-TATMR. It is very different from my interpretation, ofc.) Unfortunately I'm not aware of anything else I could recommend.

Most likely you're thinking of my WIP Ex-Condor Through the Time Machine.

I have also posted a couple vignettes involving one or both of them on this blog. Here's one, two, three. There are also some things in that directory that include a young Sand as fireman, as he is due to appear in QLIR.

Speaking of 'things I am writing at the speed of molasses in winter'... I am willing to give up another little crew #2 vignette.

It's meant to be most of a chapter for a fic very similar to Ex-Condor (a 'not-quite-so-normal-day-in-the-life' multichapter thing, but from Edward's PoV and on the eve of nationalisation). Howeeeeeverrrrrr, given that my plan was to start posting and finishing it after finishing Ex-Condor... well, this otherwise isn't going to see the light of day any time soon so, if you're interested:

(Note: It uses material from the end of the Charlie Sand post, specifically about how Sid didn't know Charlie was married for like their first year or two working together. Also be warned it includes some Edward-angst. If that's a problem. Which I know damn well for most of you it isn't.)

November 1947

“Here.” There was a crinkly sound, as Sand produced some sort of folded paper from his breast pocket. “For Stationmaster. And see how our orders have changed. Write it all down and have him double-check—I don’t want any confusion.” 

“I won’t, then. That’s your job. I��ll get the engine watered.” 

“Uh, Sid…” The driver’s voice was deceptively mild. “I’ll give the orders, thanks, on my own footplate. Hop.” 

“Yeh great coward! You can’t face Dream Girl, can you?” 

“Who?” 

“Pitiful.” The fireman would be pulling a face. He had some of the very funniest. “The fair Anita!” 

“Anita?—Oh, she’s the one who handles tickets. That right?”

“Don’t play coy! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. C’mon, driver—” A bit of a tussle ensued, as Heaver began to fuss over straightening Sand’s collar, and brushing off some coal dust. “A year of this is enough! Run a hand through yer hair, set yer cap, and go over at a proper strut. She won’t wait forever!” 

“Nor will I, for that matter! Get on with you.” 

“I warn you,” said Heaver. Both men were starting to laugh, but he was the one further gone. He usually was. “If you send me, I may just snag her up, myself!” 

“If you think I won’t shove you out this cab backwards, yeh whelp, you’d better have another think—”

After a moment’s more tussling, the fireman indeed scrambled, rather unsure of foot, off the running board. “You’d try the patience of a saint, Charles,” he griped… before then setting off at an unhurried but lively skip. 

Nothing ever really shook Sid Heaver’s easy temper. 

“Pot, kettle,” muttered the driver. 

Edward was amused. “When are you going to tell him?” 

Sand laughed. “Didn’t I leave that to you? I’m still waiting!” 

“No, I can’t. I’ve told you. It’s too ridiculous.” 

“How could this comedy of errors get any more ridiculous? But I hope so. I want to see the look on his face, when he learns.” 

“Then you’d better tell him!” 

“You’re far too nice to that idiot.” 

Sand was good-natured about it, and only chuckled when Edward retorted: “Oh, you like him too, really! Anyway, it’s not that. It will be fun—but it oughtn’t be me. I don’t know, just seems a bit improper.” 

The driver laughed harder than ever. “What! What’s improper? I’ve made an honest woman of her now, before God and everyone!” 

“Oh, but all that sort of thing. Engines aren’t really supposed to comment on that—humans’ personal lives.” 

“Ah yes, we wouldn’t want engines to mention the scandal of holy wedlock!” Sand pounded the outer cab with his fist as he dismounted. “You can’t really think so. Leave that Victorian rubbish in the last century, where it belongs!” 

“Well, then.” Edward reddened, but conceded the point. It was a rule that didn’t really make much sense anymore to him, either. If it ever had. “In that case, I suppose I’m free to ask. Don’t people normally wear rings when they are married? I suppose the whole point is to avoid this sort of misunderstanding.” 

“I think the point is mostly that women like shiny things, and jewellers like to make money. But Anita wants to work, until we have children, and they won’t keep her on if they know she’s married.” 

“Wait. Whyever not?” 

“Honestly, there’s no good answer to that. Women have to deal with all sorts of extra rubbish. Like this world isn’t hard enough!” The driver descended into muttered cursing, as he wrestled with the water pipe. 

But soon it was connected, and Edward hissed comfortably as he drank, while he reflected vaguely of how little he knew, about women’s lives. They had been brought in to do all sorts of different railway work during both wars, and they hadn’t seemed all that different than the men—only inexperienced. It was rather strange, the way humans did these things… 

Sand re-oiled all axles, disconnected the water hose, and then came round, leaning on the engine’s front buffers, and looking up at him significantly, much more serious than before. 

“Will you answer me something honestly, Edward?” 

The engine was a little surprised, especially upon realizing that Sand had sent the fireman in on purpose, so that they could talk. 

But the answer came readily. Mr. Sand may have only been his driver a year now, but they had known each other for ages. “Of course, sir. What’s the matter?” 

“That’s what I want to know. You get awfully nervous, even now, when you think Hacker’s about.” 

“Oh.” Edward hissed steam again, this time in embarrassment. “I know you think it’s silly.” 

“No,” said Sand, calmly and steadily. “I don’t, that. But it is unlike you. Makes me wonder just how badly he treated you.” 

Edward wanted very much to not have to look at him. But Charlie, even as a teenager, had always been pretty canny, and it was probably no coincidence, that he had now positioned himself right where Edward should have normally looked to avoid anyone’s eye. And it was too rude, to look over a driver’s head while speaking to him. 

At least, it had been considered rude was Edward had been young. 

And, if that was another rule that had changed, he hadn’t noticed. 

“I asked you to be honest,” Sand reminded him. “I wouldn’t do that, and then turn around and raise a big fuss. Not without your say-so. But I do believe I ought to know.” 

“You never seemed to like him very much,” Edward began, slowly. This was a good deal more improper than talking about the crews’ matrimonial states. 

“Imagine that.” 

“Oh, you think he’s worse than he was. To be sure, I like you much better, but…” Edward sighed. Mr. Sand was right: he didn’t like to think about these things—and generally he succeeded in avoiding it. “I don’t think he treated me badly. I reckon he’s a pretty normal, ordinary sort of driver, and I’ve gotten rather used to being a bit coddled here, you know.” 

“Coddled!” Sand spluttered in amazement. “Is that what he said?”

“I'm not sure that he ever used that exact word. But he certainly thought I required far too much fuss in order to do my work, and, well—well, I don’t think he’s altogether wrong.”

Sand kept a handle on his self-control, and stopped himself from a rant, only with visible effort. “And why do you think so?” 

It was difficult to force himself to say, and, rude or not, he couldn’t look at Sand while he did so. “He often complained to the others that Mr. MacNeil had spoiled me. And it’s not only him that thought so, was it? Everyone used to say that. He and I were great friends, and had worked together for so long. I reckon it would have been hard for me to adjust to anyone else. I can’t blame Hacker for that…”

“Good Lord. I can!” 

“Well, you’re a little like Mr. MacNeil was. You’re pretty partial to me.” 

“If I remind you of MacNeil, I’ll take that as a compliment. He was one of the finest railwaymen I ever knew. He had twice my brains—and about fifty times Hacker’s. If he spent a good deal of extra time with you, it was for no other reason than he enjoyed it. He was married to the job, and would have been much lonelier without you—but he did not spoil you. I was there, Edward. I remember. You never needed much correcting, but he wasn’t one to hesitate, when you did. He had high standards.” Sand snorted. “Whereas Hacker has none. He’s simply lazy. Thinks he’d have an easy life of it, on a ‘proper’ railway, with new engines. I’d like to have met him on the the mainland! Those southern engines would have chewed him up and spat him out. And then, if there was anything left of him to sack, the S.R. would have done it, long ago!—But I’m not convincing you, am I.” 

“No, driver, I suppose not.” But Edward smiled faintly. He liked what Sand had said about MacNeil… who had died only a few years ago. MacNeil, who had chosen him as his own engine, when no one else had wanted him. “You’re very kind, and I’m grateful. But… well, it doesn’t bother me often—there’s no use in thinking of it—but whenever I see Mr. Hacker I am reminded of what he used to say, and I still think he was dead on about some of it. Even when I was quite new… I wasn’t much use in my early years, you know.” He saw Sand gazing, listening hard. Sand hadn’t known this. Hardly anyone did, these days. “I was a poor steamer. Too sensitive. My first railway gave me plenty of chances, but it was no good. I always thought it was Sodor that made the difference. The Fat Controller was in charge of the workshop during the first war, and he made a good many changes to me. But after all that trouble taken over me, I gave more poor performances not long after—once again, after I lost my regular crew, who had been so encouraging, and better to me than I deserved. I just don’t seem to have much to give, when I’m unrostered. Then I met Mr. MacNeil, and did all right for ages, and I am again, now that you’re with me. No surprise there—you’re both terribly clever about your business. I reckon Hacker’s right. I do seem to need rather a lot of fuss. It’s not really his place to question any more than it is mine—Controller can do as he sees fit—but it is embarrassing, when I see him, and remember that I’m still not really any more useful than I ever was, back on the mainland. And never will be, now I’m so old and worn. I’ve only been very lucky, in having more than my fair share of excellent drivers. Are—are you all right?” 

This last question was tacked on with real anxiety, for Sand had removed his cap, and was holding his head in his hands. 

“I’ll be fine,” said Sand, after a moment. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. “It’s just that it’s a surprising lot of effort, stopping yourself from going off and committing murder…” 

“Oh, Mr. Sand…” 

“Shh. Let me get rid of his headache, would you?” 

Leaning on his elbows, Sand rubbed his temples hard for a few minutes. It was only when they heard Heaver whistling as he returned that he pushed himself back up, and glanced up at the engine. 

“I went on too long,” observed Edward, apologetic. 

“You told me what I wanted to know. And I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” 

“Do you still have that headache?” 

“No.” Sand smiled faintly. “We’re both more than ready to get to work, I’m sure. But I do wish you’d get it through your smokebox, my boy… if you are attracting loyal and clever crewmen again and again, it’s likely there’s something more than luck at play.” 

Heaver overheard the last bit, and proved a helpful translator. “That’s right! Some of us know a good thing when we see it.” 

“Like you?” retorted Sand. He had only begun to forgive Heaver’s work with Hacker. 

“And some of us simple sort of blokes need it pointed out to us,” Heaver admitted easily. “Say, Charlie. Turns out that ticket girl is a bit of an ice queen. I’m sure if you checked, you’d see I have frostbite on my arse! Still no excuse for your cowardice all these months, but…”  

Sand’s expression was indescribable. 

Edward had to laugh, seeing it, and felt spurred to finally put an end to things. “Fireman—”

But the driver held up a hand. It seemed he’d been seized by a new resolve, as well. “Oh, no. Whatever happened to engines being seen and not heard? Don’t you dare—he’s mine now.” 

Heaver blinked in confusion as driver and engine exchanged winks. 

“You’re both cracked,” he concluded, amiably. 

#chatter #ttte #ttte fic #the railway series #charlie sand #sidney heaver #their vibes in EtBE are just so immaculate 😭 #oh yeah sorry #i keep trying to find a new name for That Asshole In Question #'kilchap' was meant as a placeholder but 'hacker' is probably not much better #jobeywrites

[orangesartblog]

Hi.

Edward.

So uh, I have this head canon that if they find themselves with free time, Edwards crew pulls into a siding and goes to get coffee (idk if those disposable coffee cups where a thing during the Charlie and Sidney era. Google says 60s?), And Edward lets them sit on his footplate(?) And they tell stories to eachother.

They especially like hearing stories of young rebellious Edward from the Furness railway cause it's such a stark difference from the Edward they know.

Uh. Yea. Idk if that made sense. Anyway, I'm still bad at drawing trains so don't mind me. /Lh

#im messing around with #Charlie Sand #and #Sidney Hever #desgins. based mostly off of the TVS models because i cant find any illustrations of them close up in thee RWS. #also did you like my smooth integration of their charecter tags /j #digital art #drawing #ttte art #ttte #thomas and friends #ttte Edward #i wanted to draw this for Edward day #but this weeks felt like 50 so i didn't get it done in time #i hope this is alright

[starffledust]

A moment of appreciation for Edward's driver, Charlie Sand, who supposedly owned twelve pigeons and who puts up with Sidney singing "Johnny's so Long at the Fair" when their train is late

#ttte #this is based on Bertie's Chase which was adapted to television as ep 3 of season 2 #but anyway there's a part at the beginning where Edward's Fireman is singing an old nursery rhyme #What Can the Matter Be?/Johnny's so Long at the Fair #and the Driver just laughs and goes Stop singing about Johnny and do your job! in an amused way #and I respect him for that #also yes those are canon names #Driver: Charlie Sand Fireman: Sidney Hever #the pigeon thing is taken from the wiki idk if it's true #I hope it is

[orangetangyorka]

Oh yeah I know Edwards crew! Uh

* stares as smudged ink on hand*

...Charlie Hever and Sidney Sand!

#writing their names this way feels cursed I'm sorry #Charlie Sand #Sidney Hever #ttte shitpost #it's not that late but I think this counts as late night tumblr

[galinneall-dearg]

Decided to try out a ~Change of Style~ 

Feat. Edward’s dads (aka his driver + fireman)- Charlie Sand and Sidney Heaver

#ttte #ttte edward #charlie sand #sidney heaver #thomas and friends #art #sometimes your family is you #your emo husband #and your sentient train son #(btw those are the canon names for his driver + fireman)

[edwards-exploit]

At last; battered and weary, but unbeaten, Edward steamed in.

bonus doodles under the cut

#live from tidmouth #ttte #thomas the tank engine #thomas and friends #ttte edward #edward the blue engine #ttte henry #henry the green engine #charlie sand #ttte human #ttte human au #ttte humanized #2×3 #togetherness #edwardxhenry #okay i admit i have a soft spot for togetherness. and i wanted to draw my url so #i think the fact that trying to repair an engine and adjusting coaches in the stormy battering rain is a bit difficult... #creative on the mainline #and also edward has a dad sneeze #blame bill and ben for that

[gundamcalibarney]

Holding out my hands for any Charlie Sand HCs you got !! You draw him sooo silly.

The silly men!! you get the bonus of having a few hcs for the stoker as well ;)

Charlie Sands:

“Never you mind about Johnny!” laughed the driver, “Just you climb on the cab and look for Thomas!”

- One of the NWR’s longest working railwaymen, has been around since it’s beginnings. Chill and stern, kinda under reacts sometimes but it’s cool. Level headed and can crack jokes in a lot of situations, a quick thinker and adept at adapting to odd situations.

- Lived on Sodor for all his life, very well versed into it’s ins and outs and is usually seen as one of the mentors for new workers.

- Before becoming Edward’s Driver he was Lady’s fireman before graduating to the driver position to help Edward adjust to being on Sodor with the power of his chill attitude. Charlie has been a crew member on other engines though!

Sidney Holloman (Hever):

“Oh dear what can the matter be?” singed the fireman.

- Comparatively a little more new to the Railway, Edward went through one other fireman before Sidney dropped in. Sharp and snarky, doesn’t sugarcoat his words and blunt mouthed, has a bit of an eye for mechanics.

- Used to live in Barrow-in-Furness before moving to Sodor by stowing away on a cargo boat that was heading to Sodor, first worked as Thomas’ fireman before being moved to become Edward’s. Has a bit of a criminal background but he tries to hide that.

- Passionate singer, wanted to be a musician when he was younger.

#daryl draws #answer #ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte headcanons #ttte drivers #ttte charlie sand #ttte sidney hever #and ty!! charlie sands can look silly as a treat

[gundamcalibarney]

yo holy dhit 123 drivers!?!!!!??

#daryl draws #ttte #thomas the tank engine #ttte drivers #uhhhh okay how are they tagged #Bob Dodstein #Charlie Sands #Hagen Ted Archibald #👍🏼💥 #I moved around a couple people from the last time i drew the tidmouth drivers #Bob vc |B[ #Charlie vc <B) #Hagen vc :D #hmmm want to do a couple more doodles n shit of the tidshed engines and their crews interacting #golden whistle au #(<- IG this is more of a mothverse ttte au tag now and these guys are counted in it)

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

okay, i'm not gonna reblog the whole post coz it's quite long and at most 4 people will be interested, but for people like my Charlie Sand's pigeons anon, here's a very informative tumblr post about a hobby i didn't know a damn thing about

#ttte fanon #charlie sand #priorities on the island of sodor

[hazel-of-sodor]

Once a Railway Man pt.2

Once a Railway Man orginally was longer than what you guys say on day 12 of this years traintober. For some unknown reeason, Tumbl decided to cut off the story. I ended up liking the cut, so I kept it. Here is the rest of the story.

------

Sidney and Amelia stepped out of the crew shed to the strange sight of brushes, sponges, and rags cleaning Edward, seemingly moving on their own. 

"What in the..." Amelia was cut off by more buckets flying out of the cleaning shed towards them.

As they caught them, a rag above Edward's footplate made a beckoning motion towards them. Amelia hesitated at the sight but Sidney shrugged and said, "I'm not about to complain about the help," and walked towards the engine, the fireman soon following behind. 

As he approaches the rag waved in front of the engine's face. Edward said, "Mr. Charlie wants you to know he is unimpressed that my driver hasn't cleaned me yet.."

 "Tell my Grandpa that not doing things right the first time just means doing them again." Sidney replied teasingly.

An unseen hand ruffled Charlie's hair as he walked past Edward's bufferbeam to help clean the wheels.

"Does this happen often?" Amelia asked hesitantly as walked up to Edward.

"Only when he thinks we're not treating his engine right." Sidney called back. He then yelped as a sponge was slipped down his shirt

"Nana!"

Amelie laughed as she picked up where Charlie had left off cleaning Edward's buffers.

 Edward smiled happily in the Wellsworth sun as the crews set about cleaning their shared engine.

#ttte #ttte fanfic #RWS #rws fanfic #ttte edward #ttte charlie sand #traintober #traintober 2022 #traintober22 #traintober2022 #Prompt:poltergeist

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

What's your favourite ttte triva/fun fact? If that makes sense?

I think mine is that Charlie Sand owned 12 pigeons. I don't know where that's from, or if it's true or not (I read it on the Wiki). But I keep it in mind whenever I write him lmao

Ohhh, that's a hard "favorite" to choose. Honestly one of the most endearing to me is that a broke and unemployable Ringo Starr applied to British Railways in his youth, hoping to be issued the nice warm overcoat that went with the uniform! However he couldn't pass the physical (little Richie Starkey was a very sickly child) and was left only with a railwayman's cap... until certain endeavors much later in life, of course. That kinda breaks and warms my heart at the same time.

Within TTTE, rather than adjacent, it's hard to beat the trivia that Toby has a pub named for him in Ffarquhar. The landlord renamed the place due to Toby's local popularity after scoring off Thomas's policeman. Ffarquhar is anti-cop, and Toby is a living legend. 🧡

My favorite truly obscure detail is that at least one of Thomas's drivers was named Joe Bloggs. He was willing and able to correspond with fans in the '80s (one of the newspaper clippings on Awdry mentions this! sorry i can't find the link right now but i'll post it one of these days)

Re: Charlie's pigeons... Sooo I went down this rabbithole once and, I'm really sorry to say, but I think the Wiki is incorrect in relating this as canon. So far as I can tell, it's a piece of whimsical fanon that originated with @SirTophamNWR's NWR Archives (that link is to the Twitter account; look for the link to the "NWR Archives" in the pinned tweet—it's page 21 of that pdf. All the "packets" are worth perusing though!)

#mind you i'd LOVE if someone found it in canon #i've considered messaging the author of the packet but i dunno #i lack the nerve to DM richard hatt i guess #chatter #the railway series #ttte #ttte narrators #ttte toby #ttte thomas #charlie sand