#And in my dumb little Au anyways

[purplesunset9112]

Nell: Damn, the power went out. Cassie: Don’t worry, I got this. Cassie: shakes rapidly and starts to light up Nell: What-? Cassie: I swallowed a glow stick!

Nell, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

[rakkuntoast]

you already know how much i love your gravity falls au, i haven’t stopped thinking about it since lmao, so thanks for doing the silly little doodles and things like that it’s been fun to see! (also, side note, foolish as soos is possibly the greatest thing ever to exist, the character line up going on just in general is *chefs kiss*) (still going insane about cellbit and bagi as ford and stan) (we already know my thoughts on chay and lullah as dipper and mabel, love those little silly guys)

ty kash <3 i've been slowly figuring stuff out as i go but im having a lot of fun! im glad you enjoy it :D

also cellbit and bagi being the stan twins was just such a revelation, i love doomed siblings so much i cant wait to write some stuff up when it comes to the tale of two stans: quesadilla falls edition lol

[softquietsteadylove]

Kindly gonna ask you to let Boxer Gil have a photoshoot. Make it sexy. Thena will like it 😏

"Night," Sersi waved on her way out of the studio.

Thena waved to her assistant teacher as well. On most nights, she would stay behind to practice by herself, perhaps rehearse old routines or choreography she had developed and wanted to perfect. But tonight, she had something else in mind.

Gil had told her that some sports magazine was going to interview him for the upcoming match he and Ikaris were having for charity. She knew that he was quite a star from their days in the pro circuit, not that he liked to talk about it.

He had downplayed it quite a bit, claiming he would just be embarrassed if she was there to see it, but if she saw a bunch of strangers loitering around his studio across the hall, they were there for publicity reasons.

And she couldn't resist trying to get a peek.

The dance studio glass was frosted from the bottom up. It was far too laborious and expensive to frost them all, but they required some sense of privacy for their rehearsals. Gil could just peek in over the top.

His studio glass was also clear, but he'd had a huge stripe painted on to obscure most of went on inside. It did the job of course, and it also left some space at the very top where one could peek in. She wasn't tall enough by natural means, but there were a few chairs outside on which the photography crew could rest.

Thena darted out of her studio and crossed the hall in one leap. She could see the glow of the lights and see the flashes of the cameras from outside. It had never been in her nature before to spy on something. But she just wanted to see a little bit of Gil actually showing off for once. He would never have to know.

On the chair and even on her toes, she could just barely peek into the studio. Her eyes barely cleared the top of the stripe and she had to press her face to the glass. But she could see part of the benches Gil had, and the furthest corner of the ring.

Gil was leaning against the ropes. His shirt was off but his gloves were on. They had definitely shaved him, because not even the little trail of dark hair under his bellybutton remained. She had seen that once or twice.

Gil leaned off the ropes. He was taking direction of some sort. She had to admit, he didn't look particularly happy about it, either. He got into position, threw a punch or two. She had watched him practice a little, but she'd never been able to see him really swing with everything in him.

The muscles in his chest and back contracted with his breathing. They bounced and jiggled. He rolled his eyes as someone with a spray bottle came over and sprayed his chest. She leaned closer to see if some camera assistant was going to rub it in.

Thena yelped as the chair slipped from her standing on the very edge of it. It was just barely, but managed not to fall and crash directly into the window from her nonsense. What was she doing?--spying on a man she had only been seeing for a few weeks?

"Thena?"

Gil really was oiled up. She wasn't sure why he felt so embarrassed by that. She reluctantly turned to him, humiliation making the tips of her ears burn. "Sorry."

"What are you doing out here?" he asked as he closed the door to the studio behind him. He tilted his head, taking in the photography gear now on the floor and her, still in her leotard and skirt, caught red handed.

She cleared her throat, wringing her hands in front of her. "I-I know you told me not to attend. But I suppose...I couldn't help my curiosity."

Gil chuckled, which wasn't helping her feel less mortified. "Hey, it's okay. I just feel kinda dumb when they rub baby oil all over me and tell me to 'pretend' I'm boxing for the camera."

She frowned, and he reacted immediately, wondering what he'd said wrong. But she had to ask, "who rubs baby oil all over you?"

"What?"

"You said 'they rub baby oil' all over you--who is 'they'?" she asked, crossing her arms. It was defensive; she was lashing out at something else to deflect things away from her. But also, if he was going to get rubbed down by some young, flirty intern-

Gil laughed from the belly this time (the belly that was still on full display). She didn't feel any better about it. "Sorry, I meant it as a figure of speech. They spray me down, I oil myself up."

Thena pursed her lips. "So, if I hadn't kept watching I wouldn't have seen the pretty blonde with the spray bottle rub oil all over your chest?"

Gil shook his head. He stepped closer, although considering he was lathered up, he couldn't exactly hold her. But he leaned in so he could whisper, "the only pretty blonde I have any interest in is right here."

Thena looked down at the edge of her skirt fluttering between them, truly and deeply embarrassed not only by her jealousy but also having been caught in the most undignified way possible for it. And of course Gil's response was just to flirt with her.

"Uh, Gil?--what's the problem out here?" a man poked his head out of the studio door. He eyed her, "fan girl?"

She was quite ready to spit nails at him but Gil put his hand on her arm. "This is my girlfriend, from across the hall. Just give us a second."

"Okay, but we're on a schedule, man--chop chop," he muttered before leaving them to the hallway.

Thena inhaled as Gil turned back to her again. Her heart was still in her ears, and she wasn't sure if her skin was going to cool down unless she went outside and stuck her head in the snow. Gil could obviously read her fluster off her, too. He had on that grin he got whenever he brought coffee to her in the morning. "Boyfriend?"

He pressed his lips to her temple. "Well, your goslings call me that, don't they?"

Yes, and she was constantly, desperately trying to discourage them from it. "I did tell them not to, for what it's worth."

"Don't," Gil smiled as he moved to kiss her lips. "It's cute. And they're right, aren't they?"

She held back that she had never had someone she would actually call a 'boyfriend' before. She wasn't sure when to bring it up or what qualified one. She leaned in for one more peck instead. "I suppose."

"Hey, why don't you come in?" Gil grinned, nodding his head towards the studio with her hand in his. "You've already seen me, so I guess it's not as embarrassing. And when I'm done we can grab some dinner?"

Her eyes drifted down to his chest, still shaved and bare and oiled up and bouncy. But she forced herself to smile with at least some dignity and nod. "That sounds lovely."

Gil held her hand as he opened the studio door again. "Hey, we're almost done, right?"

A mess of answers from the various people inside jumbled together. They all seemed to be different answers, at that. But Gil guided her to sit on the ringside bench while he climbed back up into the ring with the photographer.

Thena looked around, taking in the environment. She had been inside Gil's studio before, but it seemed cramped with the amount of people working on this. She turned her head as the young, pretty blonde smiled and waved at her. She did not need the reminder of her petty insecurities.

"Okay, okay, give us a couple really good action shots and I think we'll be good to go!"

"Fine," Gil drawled, rolling his eyes. Thena held back a laugh, he sounded just like her teenage students when it was time for drills.

But Gil got into position again. Now in the room, it was easier to see how the lights created more shadows, how his skin bent around his ribs and his flanks, how the meat of his muscles met the angles of his bones. She could even see scars he'd told her about from old fights, or the surgeries needed after them, specifically.

Gil threw a few punches, seeming more willing than he was before. A few hairs drifted onto his forehead but they added to the effect. He swing wide, made a few jabs, even swerved and swayed.

He was a thing of beauty, like a sculpture come to life for a precious few moments. Thena watched him the way she looked at statues in a museum--reverently. He twisted for one and she caught the angle of his hip, the edge of his underarmour contrasting the waist of his shiny shorts.

"You're a lucky lady."

It wasn't the pretty blonde with the curly ponytail, but she still pursed her lips at the lighting assistant commenting on her boyfriend, "I'm aware."

"Okay, great work, pal, I think we've got it," the man from earlier commented as he leaned over the camera. "We'll be in touch, and we'll see you at the match, yeah?"

"Sure," Gil shrugged, utterly uninterested in it. He came out of the ring on the other side, dragging himself down the stairs. "Can I get a towel, please?"

Yet another young intern threw one his way, which he immediately used to try and de-grease himself on his way over to her. His smile was sheepish again, like the one he'd had when they first started exchanging waves and smiles from across the halls in silence.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked him with a smile of her own. He sat next to her heavily, just as worn out from the attention as his daily classes.

He shrugged, wiping at himself aggressively. "I guess not, just always feels kind of dumb when they get me up there playing pretend, y'know?"

She nodded, whether she really knew what he meant or not. She did take the towel from him to rub his back down for him. "I think you'll need a good shower to get this off."

He huffed, and his back muscles gave her quite a show as he did. "This is why I hate these shoots. There's no need for me to be greased up like a piece of pork belly."

He had much more muscle on him than a piece of pork belly. Thena pressed her lips together to contain her amusement. "Is this your way of saying you want Korean barbecue for dinner?"

He half turned to her, eyes sparkling. "Well, if you'd be up for it...?"

She had to admit, it was delicious on their first date. She didn't indulge in heavier foods like red meat often, but for Gil, she could bear with it. "You go and shower, I'll call and reserve a table."

Gil twisted around the other way, nearly slipping off the bench in his glee. He kissed her cheek on his way up and towards the showers. "You're the best, Gorgeous."

Thena felt that familiar warmth fluttering its way all through her system, leaving her to smooth down her skirt. The crew was bustling around her to pack up and get out of Gil's space. She also would have to change and get her things from her own studio.

But she pulled out her phone, dialing the place since she'd saved their number after their first date there. Just in case (Gil didn't need to know). "Hello? Yes, I'd like to book a table if I could. For two...my, um, boyfriend and I."

[sesamestreep]

30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 9

Write about a heated debate (from this list) ➸ set in the Bakeoff AU AGAIN, because after my last fic, I wanted to write more Milly content and also it’s been a rough few days and I need to be silly and self-indulgent or I shall perish!! Based on an Instagram Reel I sent to @firstelevens the other day and that we’ve been spinning into a kid fic concept ever since. It grew out of control and I don’t know if it technically fits the prompt, but it’s what I got for you nonetheless. Bon appetit I guess???

“Euuuugghhh! Daaaaad!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Foggy asks from his spot in the kitchen. That tone of voice from his daughter is never a good sign, but he’s mostly used to hearing it when he and Matt are being particularly disgusting about how much they love each other. As Matt is still in the shower currently, he knows that can’t be the reason.

“What did you put on this?” Milly asks, holding up a piece of toast accusatorially. If she ends up following in their career footsteps someday, her cross-examinations are going to be brutal.

“Cinnamon and sugar, as requested,” Foggy answers, coming to stand across the counter from her. It’s a long way from the elaborate recipes he used to make with his spare time—which he no longer has—and when he was on Bake-Off, but it’s one of his daughter’s favorite breakfasts despite its simplicity. Well, it normally is. She’s currently staring daggers at him, so it must not be her favorite right now.

Milly shakes her head at him, like he’s a moron or maybe, more accurately, like they’re going to have to send him to a home soon if he keeps this up. “Not cinnamon,” she says, holding the offensive piece of toast out to him.

Before he can take a bite (his original plan, to illustrate that she’s being silly and unnecessarily picky), the smell reaches his nose and it doesn’t take an extremely experienced baker to know that’s not cinnamon. He brings it closer to sniff it again and makes himself cough. To confirm his suspicion, he returns to the cabinet where they store their spices and looks at the jar he used to make Milly’s toast a few minutes ago and, yep, there it is.

“Paprika,” he says. “I made you paprika toast.”

“Paprika and sugar,” Milly says, in that same enjoy your time in the retirement home, old man tone of voice.

“They look similar in the bottle,” Foggy says, rubbing a hand over his face. “Same color, I mean.”

“Do they smell the same?” she asks, innocently.

“Listen, you—”

“And are they spelled the same way?” she asks, thoughtfully. “You know, when you read the bottle before pouring it over my toast? You did read the bottle first, right?”

“Mills, I’m not kidding, if you can spell ‘paprika’ or ‘cinnamon’ for me right now, I will give you twenty dollars out of my wallet,” he says. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear it!”

“I don’t know—”

“Exactly!”

“I’m eight! What’s your excuse?”

“For one thing, my eight year old daughter won’t stop tricking her babysitter into letting her watch scary movies and then crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night because she can’t sleep,” Foggy says, grabbing the plate from her. “How’s that?”

“Don’t throw it away!” Milly calls.

Foggy pauses. “Baby, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll make you more with actual cinnamon.”

Milly looks at him like he’s grown an extra head. “I know,” she says, slowly. “I just wanted to show Dada what you did.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, rolling his eyes and returning the plate. “Just for that, maybe I won’t make you more toast.”

“Sure, starve me for telling the truth. That’ll go over great with the other trusted adults in my life when I snitch on you.”

“It’ll never hold up in court,” Foggy replies, already putting two more slices of bread into the toaster.

“Besides,” she says, ignoring him and popping a sliced strawberry into her mouth. “I don’t crawl into your bed, I crawl into Dada’s.”

“It’s the same bed,” he explains. “Just because you cuddle with Dada and kick me all night doesn’t make it any less my bed. And what’s up with that, anyway? I have it on good authority that I’m the more cuddly of the two of us. Why don’t you ever snuggle me?”

“You want it too bad,” she says, taking a two-handed drink of her orange juice.

“Devil child,” he mutters. His mother once told him, when he and Matt were first looking into adoption, that your children will act as cosmic comeuppance for all the things you put your poor parents through as a child yourself and he hadn’t believed her. Maybe he just thought that, because Milly didn’t share any DNA with them, that his and Matt’s most exhausting qualities wouldn’t rear their ugly heads in her at all. And, boy, love her as he does, he was wrong on that count.

“Dada would never do this to me,” Milly continues, happily. “And he can’t even see! Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“About looking into boarding schools?” Foggy asks. “Definitely.”

“Mean!”

“You’re saying you’d miss me?”

“No,” Milly says, crossing her arms. “But I’d miss Dada and my friends and my teachers and Aunt Daisy and—ooh, can I borrow your phone?”

“Why?”

“I want to text Aunt Daisy a picture of the paprika toast.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come onnnnn,” she whines. “She’ll think it’s funny!”

“That’s exactly why I’m not giving you my phone.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly grumbles, sinking down to rest her chin on the counter dejectedly. Her head immediately pops up again when Matt appears behind her. “Dada! Wait til you see what your husband did!”

Matt stops to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Please don’t say your hair because it feels…uh, chaotic?”

“I haven’t even gone near it this morning,” Foggy says, as he fetches the toast that’s just popped out of the toaster. “That’s all natural.”

“Well, that’s something,” Matt replies, coming into the kitchen. “So, what did you do?”

“He made me cinnamon toast,” Milly interrupts, enthusiastically. “Here, try it!”

As with Foggy, the toast doesn’t even make it to Matt’s mouth before he’s frowning. “That’s…not cinnamon, honey.”

Milly cackles while Foggy glares at her. “I made a small mistake,” Foggy says, over the chorus of his daughter’s laughter.

“What is that? Chili powder?” Matt asks, sniffing delicately.

“Paprika.”

“Oh.”

“And I have been soundly roasted for my error,” Foggy says, mostly in Milly’s direction. “So, I don’t want to hear it from you, okay?”

Matt shrugs. “Okay.”

“Apparently, you would never make such a mistake in your life, because you’re a good dad and I’m some sort of rodeo clown who ended up here by mistake.”

Matt looks at him, very clearly stifling a laugh. “She only thinks that because she’s led a charmed life where I almost never make her breakfast,” he says. “Give it a week, she’ll be begging for you back.”

“You’d just let me eat fruit snacks for breakfast,” Milly says, as Foggy puts her new breakfast down in front of her.

“Yes, and then you wouldn’t have all the nutrients you need to learn new things at school and get smart enough to become the first female president of the United States,” Foggy says. “And then where would we be?”

“There better be a female president before I’m old enough,” Milly says, darkly and with a mouth full of toast.

“Better eat a balanced breakfast just to be safe,” Matt says, pushing off the counter to go find some coffee. “And be nice to your dad.”

“How will that help me become President?”

“People skills,” Matt says.

“Surviving into adulthood,” Foggy says, at the same time.

Milly blows a raspberry at him, but eats the new toast without complaint. Matt’s scouting around for the sugar bowl now and Foggy stops him with a hand on his elbow.

“I already put sugar in it for you,” he says.

Matt smiles. “I don’t care what Milly says. You’re the best rodeo clown a kid could hope for, and a very good husband too.”

“Thanks,” Foggy replies, and allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. He gets to enjoy that for about ten seconds before Milly makes another disgusted noise behind him. He sighs and pulls back. “What’s wrong with the toast now?”

“Nothing,” Milly exclaims. “It’s you two that are grossing me out!”

“Sorry your dads are in love with each other,” Matt says, with a smile and a faint blush. “You live a tough life.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Milly says, as she shoves an improbably large bite of her toast into her mouth without issue. She’s not even finished chewing when she asks, “Will you walk me to school today, Dada?”

“Why? Are you worried I’ll do that wrong too?” Foggy asks, putting an arm around Matt’s shoulders.

“I’d be happy to, baby,” Matt interjects before Milly can say something smart-alecky back to him. “Go get dressed, okay?”

Mill hops down from her chair happily and practically skips to her room. Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his nose.

“What’s up with you two?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She’s just pushing my buttons.”

“Successfully,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, well,” Foggy shrugs. “I slept half the night with her foot in my face while she cuddled with you. I’m a little cranky, I guess.”

“Feeling left out?” Matt asks, smiling, as he turns to wrap his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“I’m definitely the cuddliest person in this household and I want it acknowledged.”

“I agree,” Matt says, kissing him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to Milly. She’s a maniac.”

“She takes after you.”

“Not true. I love to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, leaning in to kiss him again.

“We could make that happen, you know,” Foggy says against his lips. “Drop the kid off at school, cancel our appointments for today, play hooky from our responsibilities, stay in bed all day…”

Matt seems to be thinking it over, tempted. “We couldn’t,” he says, not quite convincingly.

“We could. I know our bosses and, trust me, they’d want us to get laid.”

“I’ve said it before but those guys are weird,” Matt jokes. “They’re honestly too involved in our sex lives.”

“Yeah, it’s an HR nightmare,” Foggy replies, kissing him again.

“You two better not still be kissing when I come back,” Milly hollers from the bathroom, where she’s brushing her teeth (or so Foggy guesses from the sound of running water).

“We definitely will be,” Foggy shouts back, as Matt collapses into his shoulder laughing.

“I’m going to go attempt to get our daughter’s hair fit for public appearance,” Matt says, giving Foggy another quick kiss on the lips.

“And I’m going to text Kate that we’ll be in late this morning.”

Matt pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Foggy consults his watch. “Our first appointment is at 11. I can do plenty to you in that amount of time.”

Matt looks a little startled by that, but not in a bad way. “Kate’s going to know what that text means, you know.”

“That just means there will be someone to share in Milly’s pain over us being disgustingly in love after all these years. Unless that’s your way of saying no?”

“Definitely not. Just warning you that we’ll get a lot of grief for it later.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You always do,” Matt replies, and Foggy’s definitely not being conceited when he says Matt’s tone sounds downright dreamy.

He heads off to help Milly finish getting ready and Foggy tackles the few dishes in the sink while he waits for another pot of coffee to finish brewing. A few minutes later, Milly appears in the kitchen, dressed and with her hair pulled into a neat bun. Neither of them can do anything particularly fancy with her hair, not least because she won’t sit still long enough for all that, but Matt does a good job for someone who’s never had long hair or siblings. A now presentable Milly pulls her backpack and coat off the hook on the wall and stops by Foggy’s side expectantly.

“What do you need, kiddo?” he asks, as he dries his hands on the towel hanging by the stove.

“Hug goodbye,” she says, lifting her arms towards him and he kneels to capture her in a big hug.

When she finally pulls back, she still looks hesitant, like there’s something she needs to ask him. It once again strikes him as crazy how much she reminds him of Matt sometimes.

“What’s the matter?” Foggy asks, tucking a picturesque loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel alright? Is all that paprika I fed you bothering your stomach?”

Milly shakes her head, looking away. “I just wanted to—Dada said that his dad would have made him eat that gross toast because they never wasted food when he was little.”

“Did he?” Foggy asks, already making a mental note to kick Matt’s ass when they’re alone together. “Listen, baby, your Grandpa Jack, he…didn’t have a lot of help when your Dada was young. They had to be really careful with their money and Dada was in the hospital for a while…”

“I know,” Milly says, nodding. “I’m just—thank you for making me new toast, instead.”

Foggy feels a lump in his throat that he struggles to swallow past. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me for that, okay? It’s my job to make your life as good as it possibly can be. Even if I have to make you a hundred pieces of toast every morning.”

“That would be expensive.”

“Still,” Foggy says, firmly. “I’m sorry if what Dada said made you upset.”

Milly scrunches up her face like she’s eating the paprika toast all over again. “He said it like it was funny,” she says, mildly horrified.

“God, okay,” Foggy replies, running a hand over his face. Matt would consider that a charming anecdote about his father. Speaking of people who are going to need a hug from him… “Don’t worry about that. Just have a good day at school, okay?”

“Okay,” Milly says, all concern gone as she hops in place excitedly.

Matt appears around the corner then, pulling on his coat. “Ready?”

“Just gotta get my shoes,” Milly shouts as she zooms off in the direction of the door.

“Alright,” Matt says, as he comes into the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Foggy says, as he leans in to kiss him goodbye. “Oh, and maybe no more stories about your dad before school, yeah?”

Matt blinks at him. “What? Why?”

“We’ve talked about how sometimes the anecdotes from your childhood that you think are charming and scrappy are actually alarming to the people who love you now,” Foggy says, gently.

“Yeah…” Matt says, uncertainly, before his expression clears. “Oh. Shit.”

“It’s fine,” Foggy replies, rubbing his back. “I already explained that she can ask for as much food as she wants. Just maybe reinforce that with her on your way to school?”

Matt looks pale and queasy even as he nods. “Right. God, I didn’t—I’m sorry—”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“And you still want to play hooky from work with me, even though I’m the world’s biggest idiot?”

Foggy kisses him on the forehead. “Of course. You’re still a very cute idiot.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, I told Milly it’s my job to make her life as good as possible, and that’s true, but it’s also my job to do that for you. And right now, the best way to make your life better is to take you back to bed and—”

“Ready!” Milly shouts as she skids around the corner. “Are you guys still kissing?! What about my education?”

“She’s right, you know,” Matt says, pulling back and looking a bit better, though still tremulous. “We’re terrible parents.”

“Maybe I should look into boarding schools, after all,” Foggy jokes, crossing his eyes goofily at Milly over Matt’s shoulder.

“I’m never going to be President at this rate,” Milly laments.

“Alright, let’s get you to school,” Matt says, holding out his hand for her.

Foggy leans down to give Milly a kiss on the top of her head. “Don’t let your dad walk into traffic, okay?”

“I won’t,” Milly says, swinging their joined hands between them. “I promise.”

“That’s my girl. Have a good day, baby cakes.”

“You too, daddy cakes.”

“I’ll be back shortly,” Matt says, smiling at the two of them.

“I’ll be here,” Foggy replies, as suggestively as he can manage. It must work because Milly snarls in disgust.

“If you two start kissing again, I’m taking myself to school,” she says, leveraging her full weight against Matt to drag him towards the door. “Or running off to join the circus. You won’t know which until it’s too late.”

“She gets that from you,” Matt says, tiredly.

“I was going to say I think she gets it from you.”

“Maybe she has a point about us being gross.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Foggy says, with a wink at Milly, who’s glaring at both of them now. “There was never any debate about that.”

[lostglassguitars]

religious ink cult asks you to join what do you do

[op3ra]

I've been thinking about race styles recently, and particularly about the three main locomotives and Pearl:

I feel Electra is confident enough in her skills that she likes to play games with her opponents--often alternating between falling behind intentionally to make her opponents think they're winning, only to use her lightweight speed to overtake them in a sprint. It's a great way to psych out her opponents and stay out of the way while also continuously gaining the lead. She and her primary race partner (Volta) are well trained in this technique together--that being said, she is capable of skating at a steady pace when the situation calls for it. She's all about flashiness and style, but don't underestimate her skill.

Rusty is focused on stamina and agility--above all else, he's small and quick, and good at evading hits. His technique focuses mostly on keeping a steady pace while dodging conflict and allowing his competition to tire each other out, saving the last of his energy for a final sprint. In some cases, he'll even plan out exactly how much water and coal he should be carrying to stay as light as he can. He prioritizes taking curves in the track as close to the inner edge as possible, occasionally falling behind only to dart around his opponents and overtake them by taking as tight a turn as possible. Tight turns are dangerous, but he's practiced them enough that he has an advantage whenever he attempts them.

Greaseball is all about brute force and getting + maintaining an early lead; he expends most of his energy on an initial sprint to gain a lead, and then focuses on taking out or blocking his opponents. The drawback, however, is that by the end of a race he's typically losing quite a bit of steam (well. not really. ykwim) and is relying on the early lead that he gained at the beginning. He's very experienced in techniques that involve staying in front of others, such as different maneuvers to cut trains off and throw them off balance.

Pearl is, overall, a formidable racer despite having nearly no prior experience. She excels on her own in solo-carriage races, but is also an extremely valuable asset in partner races due to her adaptability. Even if she's never raced with a locomotive before, she can pick up their race style with ease. She reads the tiniest changes in their stance and technique almost instantly, and adapts to them so quickly that other trains joke that she can read minds. In reality, she's just extremely observant and quick-thinking, making her a sought-out coach for partner races. Although she enjoys the thrill of solo racing, she loves the coordination and technique involved in partner racing. Although she's late to the game, her career in racing is only beginning.

[hergrandplan]

What's the first YR fic you read and loved? And the last?

oooooh okay

the first fic YR I ever read was also the first fic I loved, which was such a huge win and kinda. cemented the fact that I was gone for this show, gone for Wilmon and accepted my place in the trenches.

That was A Glimpse of Us by the lovely Spidaya / @simons-purplehoodie . I made the mistake of reading this in public MULTIPLE times (the mistake was cause it kept making me cry). It's very well-written, and I just... I love a childhood best friends to lovers, I love Wille being such an oblivious idiot, I love ice-skating shenanigans and yeah

obsessed!

The last fic I read and loved is one I'm currently in the middle of, one that everyone and their mother and their father and i suppose their second cousin too has read and loved (for good reason!!) and one that I am just so late to the party too

That is, of course, Royally Whipped by the incredible @bigalockwood

The concept in general is incredible (I mean, a bake-off au???? who doesn't love that!) but it's also so funny, and cozy and fluffy and genuinely like a warm hug. Lia KNOWS how to do tension and it has me kicking my feet and giggling every time, but also the way she writes Simon and Wille with such care???? ugh

[bisaster-energy]

im not even done my current kuwameshi fic and im already getting ideas about new ones...

[triglycercule]

i love characters with barely elaborated on personalities and traits and all that. dust sans??? absolute perfection i can do whatever the fuck i want with him. headcanon anything i want as long as it fits the framework that askdusttale has given me. nightmare??? his one main trait is that he's bad do you know how amazingly vague that is. i have even MORE freedom with him than anyone else. there are various different types of bad guy and i can make nightmare all of them and none simultaneously because he's simply not all that elaborated on. once i lose that creative freedom i lose all will to do anything with characters

[cinnamon-bunni]

NOT okay right now im thinking abt pokemon leaving scars on their trainers + everyday, domestic problems.....

[linkedin-offficial]

What does HERO think of CAINE?

Is HERO an ally or trying to kill Caine?

HI ANON‼️ thank u for the question ..

im gonna assume ur talking about carnival hero, in which case he is actually quite fond of caine!

at first he was skeptical as always, new players can be annoying, especially if they are the rage-quitty kind. i can imagine caine probably Was annoying at first because i just cant see caine giving up or letting himself lose to hero over and over for no reason (think back to that one jax post from sm, if caine was about to lose, im sure he would definitely restart to spare his own dignity!).

but after caine won finally, it sort of let a threshold through! he gained hero's forced respect. hero isnt one to be a sore loser after all!

caine eventually did return to hero and help him with some things however, which made hero appreciate him greatly. along with giving him items that were retrieved from spectacle, caine having access to the database and everything was like a miracle to him. showing him things that he thought were only imagination and made up in his head; ie, proof his sister exists (or, existed). it gave hero hope for the future and he appreciates caine Immensely for this‼️

of course, there is an alternate universe where hero never stops staying suspicious of caine, and possibly finds ways to antagonize him (and pomni, for helping him) through kinger. being the kings underling and second in command sure does have its perks, after all ;) but this is just a random offshoot thought, and most likely wouldnt happen.

[marimbles]

i miss being in my tmsidk era. what was i on back then. where did that girl go. come back ho why would you abandon me like this

[theunconcernedembalmer]

finally drew wu chang. this time in an outfit i designed for the first exorcist event

i did a timelapse to test the function so its under the cut

[teruthecreator]

in my mind sho is a rlly good drummer

like he took an interest in playing during elementary school, when they brought the instruments around to entice people to do band, and his mom was more than happy to get him a snare and a practice pad so he could start learning. (his father…slightly less enthusiastic, mainly bc sho refused to play on the practice pad and would beat the snare all hours of the day). and it ended up being a perfect fit for him, as he quickly advanced well beyond his peers and was playing a full kit in the jazz band by the time he was 11.

then, when the claw stuff started getting more serious, the drumming dwindled out. sho was rarely home—moving from base to base, traveling the world with his father, training in open fields to hone his skills—and his poor little snare collected dust in the corner of his room. when he Was home, he certainly didn’t have the energy to play it. but that never quelled the rhythm within him, and he often found himself playing out little beats on his knees when he was bored. it was only when he started to push away from his father did he realize how much he missed it

after the world domination arc, sho returns home. positively exhausted and reeling from the emotional trauma he had went through, he collapses on his bed and tries his best to force himself to sleep. but the memories come to him in flashes—his father throwing him across the room, hitting him with blast after blast, ritsu’s older brother showing up to defend him, the fight in the air, the explosion. he finds himself staring at the ceiling wondering how the fuck he ended up here. he feels his fingers itch with a beat as tears well up in his throat.

he turns his head to the side and catches sight of his snare tucked away in the corner, white face reflecting the moonlight from his window.

he takes it to the basement and plays the entire night.

from there, he takes to it again like a fish to water. in a moment of impulsivity, he orders a full kit for himself. (he only finds out after the fact that his mom had the same thought of getting him one, and they laugh over it as they embrace). he spends every day after school playing on his kit. he learns new techniques from youtube and recreates anime osts on the drums and feels the kid in him thrive.

ritsu says he should join a band.

“you’re good,” he says between licks of his ice cream. “like. really good.” the summer sun beats down on both of their faces, but when ritsu turns to smile at sho he feels a different kind of warmth blossom onto his face. “i think it’d be good for you.”

“maybe,” sho smiles, knocking his hip into ritsu’s, eliciting a laugh from both of them. the muffled taps of his fingers against his leg reverberate in his ears, reminding him of the life he’s gotten so lucky to live. “we’ll see what happens…”

the rest of the walk to spirits and such is filled with laughter, conversation, and the rhythmic beating of their hearts.

[helpimhyperfixating]

mertaro would find it easier to crawl on the smooth floors of y/n's house than the sandy beach. the mer pups probably would too

They don’t actually 🫢

Mer are accustomed to the water and the beach. That’s where they naturally spend time. Out in nature and all

The sand of the beach give Mer traction for their arms, which allows them to pull themselves forward.

On smooth floors, it’s a lot harder. It’s easier to glide on, yes, but that is under the circumstance that said Mer is being pushed or has something else to push off of like a doorway or furniture piece (that is stable enough). They can’t get enough traction on smooth floors to pull their large tails. Especially if they’re damp/wet, which they are (should be) 24/7

[revengesworn]

he (best boy koko) is added!! but also, as well as koko...

i suddenly had the most bizarre idea for a fic/rp scenario in which some of the tokyo revengers adults like. don't exactly time travel, but... somehow end up in the bodies of themselves as teenagers?? and kind of blend in with the tokyorev characters without anyone (or, well, most people) realizing who they are. and for some reason that's a really interesting idea to me???????

i do occasionally get the desire for more adults in tr to write so i've added some as teritary muses to explore this concept, lol. specifically ryoko baji, ryoko tachibana and remi atm. don't ask why those three, i have no clue what i'm doing :p i probably wont' write them much at all which is why they're teritary, but hey, i don't write south or takuya much either and they're still on the muse page, so like. why not??