#compactability of the scooter

[liverpoollomo]

Voi E-scooters. Olympus Trip 35. Kentmere Pan 400.

For a few years now a company called Voi have operated a scooter sharing scheme here in Liverpool. Whilst I can understand how they could have environmental benefits and some have told me that they find them quite convenient I have come to view them with destain.

On many occasions I have seen people using them whilst blatantly under the influence of substances both legal and otherwise. I have also seen some very dangerous behaviour from people who did not seem inebriated. Also, they are often abandoned in a very careless manner.

[bhavesh-31]

Top Compact E-Scooters for 2024

[miss-floral-thief]

lmao i’m too broke/cheap but some kinda scooter, even if not those e-scooters ppl downtown use, i wouldn’t mind a regular scooter but prolly wouldn’t buy it 

[pucksandpower]

Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

[copperbezel]

Zephyr Slip

At the end of last year, before I'd begun working on Bit Cobalt, I ran into some paleoart of Austroraptor, a dromaeosaur (raptor) from Argentina. Austroraptor is one of the largest dromaeosaurs, with a long, narrow, Big Bird snoot, conical teeth that probably point to fishing, and small forelimbs, as well as leg proportions that hint at a runner. Much of the paleoart I saw depicted Austroraptor in waterbird colors, which gave it a soft and friendly appearance, immediately my new favorite dinosaur.

So I drew an Austroraptor and then a robotic one, adding a quail topknot or ahoge feather, and started to think about making a transforming figure that would change from this animal into a humanoid robot. But a transformation from cute robot girl to cute robot girl, except one of them is a dinosaur, seemed a bit redundant, and there would be compromises in both directions that would detract rather than add.

But a couple of months later, I saw a particular motor scooter and something clicked, and the game was on. I love motor scooters, and they're a fantastic accessory for other figures on the shelf. I went through two foamcore prototypes to nail down the transformation, making it as simple and sturdy as I could manage and making sure both modes would scale well with other 1/12 scale figures.

I also started collecting some reference images for details I could nab and integrate, and to nail down the scaling of the scooter.

After I had something that worked, I drew up some concept art for both modes and started modeling. I was able to streamline the design a couple of steps further in the 3D model, and then it was all carving up shapes, fine tuning, etc. Probably the longest phase of modeling was after I had my model roughed out into shape, but needed to build the joints, firm up the edges, define all the contact surfaces, and apply subdivision surfaces. I found it useful to rig the model and set a couple of animation steps in Blender for the two modes so I could simply page back and forth between them.

I had to set the design on the back burner while I worked out the kinks with my 3D printer and built my last couple of projects. Then I made a test print to identify any trouble spots, and after a couple of tweaks to get the feel right, it was time to print and finish the real thing. Zephyr Slip is the first thing I've printed in "color", and thanks to some dyes I need to experiment with more, she won't be the last. That means a much more durable finish for parts that have to slide against one another or clip into place. I did add a gloss coat to some surfaces of the black elements, but it shouldn't show chipping much. (Unlike the kickstand, thanks to my terrible decision to paint its feet.)

Like my previous figures, Zephyr's eyes (and console) are just printed gloss paper under a coat of gloss varnish, and her headlights and taillights have some clear resin poured in over the paint and cured into place for lenses.  Cutting plastic windows like the ones on my Vertigo GT for the lower headlights didn't have the same effect, so they got the same clear resin treatment. The decal designs themselves were made in Blender, because I've given up on Inkscape's interface, but I think they came out okay.

The joints are almost exclusively 3mm ABS rods, although her hip joints are Kotobukiya Hexa Gear joints, which gave me a sturdy pin and hinge in a compact package and without visible pegs. I'm looking into options to make the pegs show less while being easy to remove for the construction and painting process. Despite some care with the tolerances, I did have to widen some peg holes and mush some pegs during assembly to get her pose well and snap together tight into either mode. But everything does clip solidly into place, resulting in a really playable figure. 

As my first fully transforming figure and also my largest, Zephyr Slip is definitely the biggest figure project I've tackled so far, and I'm extremely happy with the results. Posability is probably her weakest area, but she can pounce and emote, and with her solid handfeel and satisfyingly snappy transformation, I'm happy with the design. 

Paleontologically, I've followed most of the proportions of the real animal, although her torso should be a little bit longer, and her tail half again as long. She should also have visible first fingers, and I'm playing into the paleoart meme of bare snouts on dromaeosaurs that shouldn't have them. The proportion of thigh to shin is exaggerated, and the tail should have some left-right sway even if it's inflexible in the vertical axis. But it pleases me that she is both a roughly accurately scaled Austroraptor, and also a fairly realistically scaled scooter (if a bit chunky).

As always, due credit to @aprilpowered and Workbenchmaniac for support and feedback along the way, as well as Nemocyte (Tumblr | Twitter), whose feedback helped me to work out (among other things) the articulation needs of a theropod figure, something I'd never had to think about before.

[super-lovely-star]

Fun and nostalgic gifts and treats for Middle Regressors and Dreamers

This is a list of cute little things you can get for yourself or your middle friend! I will generally list them from cheapest to most spendy- but remember, just because something is cheap doesn’t mean it’s a bad gift. Don’t spend beyond your means! And also, you DO NOT need these things to “properly regress!”

Mood Jewelry ($) These were popular when I was a kid. You can get mood rings, necklaces, bracelets, and probably even earrings.

Age appropriate cosmetics ($) Like scented lip creams and gloss, or body glitter.

Glow in the dark stars ($) you can get these in the classic color, or bright colors!

Fidget toys ($) I especially like Tangle! These are good if you have anxiety or are just fidgety.

Small collectable toys ($) Like matchbox cars, littlest pet shop, blind box toys, etc!

Candy ($) Just make sure you don’t get too much, or you might get sick! I especially like sour patch kids, and yan yan.

Stickers ($) I like to get these at Daiso, but you can get them pretty much anywhere! Especially good of you/your friend keeps a journal or writes letters.

Cute plushie keychains ($) To clip onto your bag!

Art supplies ($-$$) If you/your friend likes to draw, you can get some colored pencils, markers, etc! Even a new sketchbook!

Stuff with a First initial on it ($-$$) like pillows, jewelry, little compacts, keychains, etc.

Kids craft kits ($-$$) they have plenty of these at craft stores! Jewelry making kits, paint a sculpture, you name it!

A cute character waterbottle ($-$$) choose depending on your/their favorite character/franchise! I have an usahana water bottle coming in the mail!

A lava/glitter lamp ($$) A cool way to add atmosphere to your/their room, and super relaxing to look at.

A caboodle ($$) To keep your/their accessories, makeup, art supplies, or small toys organized.

Plushies, duh! ($$) If you’re on a budget, you can get these at thrift stores! Just make sure to clean before cuddling.

Action figure or Fashion doll ($$) If you/they are less into plushies, these make equally good companions.

Video games ($$) for whatever console you/they use. I like nintendogs games best!

Tamagotchi ($$) or a similar virtual pet! I never had one, but they look fun!

A DVD of a favorite movie ($$) You can get these cheaper secondhand! Just make sure they still work.

A cute journal ($$) I like the ones they sell at Claire’s best. They look like cute animals!

Vintage Clothes ($$-$$$) If your shopping on ebay or depop, make sure you know the measurements. Especially if you’re going for actual tween brands like Limited Too or Mezzo Piano Junior, which run smaller than adult sizes.

An inflatable or beanbag chair ($$-$$$) Just make sure you/they have space for one!

MP3 or CD player ($$$) Especially good gift for a music lover!

Last but not least, a Razor scooter! ($$$) Did you know they make these in adult sizes? I have one named Jazz and I love it dearly.

Love you all, platonically ofc! 🎁💝

[electricfied-wolf]

So... you've been reblogging a lot of Starlight Express onto my dash and I feel like it's about time I ask what it's about? What I'm picking up is that it's... humanoid trains?

Whatever it is I must admit it's piqued my curiosity

OHHHH BOY YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY AUTISM CARD I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT STARLIGHT EXPRESS. Ooookay, there's a lot to talk about, especially because a new non-replica production like JUST opened in London. I feel like I'm gonna ramble a lot so we're gonna put it under the cut and I'm just gonna blab until I feel I've explained it well enough. First of all I should note that I am explaining just off the top of my head, if you'd like more info the Starlight Express wiki is run by some very committed folks and as far as I know every word on that wiki is true. Also if you'd like more photos you're gonna have to go there bc GUESS WHO LEARNED THE LIMIT FOR PHOTOS IN A SINGLE TUMBLT POST IS 30? ANYWAY ONTO MY RAMBLE!!!! And be warned, it WILL BE VERY LONG. CLICK AT YOUR OWN RISK.

What is Starlight Express?

Starlight Express (often abbreviated to Stex by the fans) is a musical produced by Andrew Lloyd Webber (yes the CATS guy) that revolves around a child's toy trains "coming to life" and having a big ol' dramatic race. They've got an underdog, a couple bad guys, train god and romance. Pretty much everything. Most productions are more song filled than dialogue filled. It has its roots in Thomas & Friends and some of the earliest stuff had a Cinderella type of thing going on (not surprising I'm sure), the plot is actually pretty easy to follow once you get used to it. Starlight Express is performed SOLELY on roller skates (not counting lndn24's scooters for the Trax and Control) for the entire duration! And in such heavy costumes too! The show has been performed since 1984 and has absolutely ZERO signs of stopping as the Bochum, Germany production is still being performed and as I stated above, there is now a non-replica production running at the Troubadour Wembley Park Theatre in London. And if you don't know what that term (non replica) means, it essentially means they are not using the traditional costumes for the show that John Napier designed and are taking quite a few liberties with a newer plot and characters to make the show something much more unique as compared to its replica counterparts.

An older version of Rusty and Pearl in the John Napier style (left) VS. Rusty in the style of the London 2024 production standing with ALW (right) _ I specify 2024 London as the show was originally produced in London but also got revised so there's like three London Stex productions I could be talking abt lol, though the costumes have gone through some pretty drastic changes even in the replica productions.

Electra's more recognizable costume (aka the more compact mohawk version of red/blue Electra) used up until the rehaul in 2018, and the one currently used in Bochum's performance of the show (aka used from 2018-now). The same character and both replica, but still different! Over the course of the many years these trains have shared our earth, I'd say that Greaseball and Rusty are amongst the few that haven't changed that massively over the course of the show (again, NOT counting the current non-rep). This show has indeed graced the US and was even performed on Broadway! Unfortunately, us Americans are really really boring apparently because the show (while still wildly successful) did not stick around here in the states. It is still however beloved by many and that is the sole reason why it has stood to be seen for 40 years: people can say the show was made on drugs and that its "weird" all they want, but Starlight Express has a bigger community than you'd think, and it is incredibly well loved by those in the community. We are VERY devoted to our trains. Despite everything though, it has never gotten a pro-shot and the only fully versions available for streaming (...in terms of official audio for official streaming) on places like youtube and spotify are the original 1984 London Cast Recording and "The New Starlight Express", aka the revised London production's album released in 1993. There is also the english and german version's of Bochum Starlight Express' "Ich Bin Ich" otherwise know as "I Am Me", but no other parts of that production have been released for streaming. You can technically stop here and just go on to the wiki and stuff but if you wanna spend like an hour listening to my infodump I AM going to keep going.

The Characters

Before I touch on the story (a much shorter section I assume) I feel it is important to explain the characters, as there are a LOT and they change depending on each production and long story short yes I am nowhere dear done with this post. The characters can be broken up into groups of which I'll introduce them by. I also cannot really do London 24's characters which I wish I could bc I'm dead obsessed w/ it but it literally just opened a little while ago so the only sharable photos of other characters I got are fuzzy and from the megamixes or backstage pics. So unfortunately no cameos from those guys in this post but trust me THE WEMBLEY PARK PRODUCTION IS SO GOOD. Uhm anyways. First I'll mention the Trax/Racing Marshals, no speaking roles and very simple costumes compared to the other trains. They're simply there to wave the flags for the races and perform other tiny tasks to move the show along, as well as doing some very cool stunts that the other performers cannot do due to the absurd weight of the main costumes. They're just as important as everyone else!

The Marshals (Bochum 2016) *note, I'm mainly going to use Bochum photos to show off the costumes because they're just usually better quality The Humans: Usually disembodied voices (with exception from two productions) our only humans are a little kid named Control, and their mom who is simply known as Mom/Control's Mom and also has an even smaller role than her child as she only comes in at the introduction to put Control to bed. Control is OBSESSED with trains which grants us the plot of this musical, over the course of the show they order the trains around and narrate the races, but (up until recently) typically don't play an active role in terms of properly interacting with the trains. They are, as their name suggests, the Control for the trains. In Bochum's performance 2018 and onward Control mentions having a grandmother who is hard of hearing, but to my knowledge said grandma is only brought up in that specific production. The National/Competing Engines: For pretty much every production excluding WP's, the non-main character racing competitors have been international trains from across the world. However their names and some of their designs have been changed over time, and the French engine even switched genders in the 2018 Bochum rehaul. I am excluding the doubles from the tours because this'll take all day if I don't. _______ The French engine- Essentially from the beginning up to 2018, Bobo the TGV. In/after 2018 in Bochum, Coco the Eurostar. Arguably the most changed of the nationals, originally a male character (Bobo) she was changed to be a female and even given a blue color scheme which Bobo usually never had as he was typically seen with orange colors in Bochum.

(Bobo (Bochum) and Coco) _______ The Japanese Engine: Originally Hashamoto (misspelling of Hashimoto but technically that's his official name), later changed to Nintendo in 1992 for all english language productions but still Hashamoto in Germany, and from 2018 onward in Bochum known as Manga. All three are labeled as Shinkansen bullet trains.

(Hashamoto (Bochum), Nintendo, and Manga) _______ The Russian Engine: Turnov the trans siberian express has literally just been Turnov this whole time and really he's hardly changed aside from his costume having to have its chest symbol changed due to obvious reasons. This poor guy has suffered greatly due to political stuff even all the way back in 1987, though I will avoid getting into that here.

Turnov (Bochum 1991), Turnov (Bochum 2018, ft. Manga) _______ The German Engine: Weltschaft originally, later named Ruhrgold, the german engine is the InterCity Express (ICE). Like Turnov he hasn't really gone through many major changes other than the original switch from Weltschaft to Ruhrgold, though the two are presented with very contrasting personalities.

Weltschaft (Bochum 1991, ft. C.B.), Rurhgold (Bochum 2018, ft. Espresso) _______ The Italian Engine: ESPRESSO! He's a fun one, very similar to Bobo in that they're both pretty flamboyant european engines. Not really similar to Coco though. Espresso's a silly fella, flirts with the audience sometimes. His design has also been pretty consistent.

Espresso (Bochum 1988), Espresso (Bochum 2021) _______ The British Engine: Our pathetic failure king <3, aka the engine that literally never races as he usually breaks down before he's meant to race. Like every time it's got to be one of the most consistent plot points across 40 years of showtime. Even through three different transformations this british loco cannot escape it. Originally named City of Milton Keynes, later Prince of Wales upon the opening of the broadway production, and in 2018 hit the stage as Brexit. Yes, you heard me. They named the British national engine Brexit, and no none of us are particularly proud of that but it is how it is. At least he's got some charm!

No images of Milton are available atm, Prince of Wales (Las Vegas, 1993), Brexit (Bochum, 2018) _______ OKAY WE'RE DONE WITH NATIONALS. We can talk about the important ones now.

So next I'll move onto our main trio of engines. Rusty, Greaseball, Electra. Lots of design altercations over the years but no name changes and basically no role changes. However, the most recent production involves a female and wlw Greaseball as well as a canon they/them Electra! We'll go engine by engine, talk about our trademark "old steamer", and then I'll move onto the cars. _______ Greaseball, the world racing champion of Union Pacific: Heavily greaser based with muscles that make coaches and freight cars alike swoon, Greaseball is a black and yellow diesel and one of the antagonists of our plot. He's the world racing champion at the start of the show. Dating Dinah (both at the beginning and by the end despite some issues) the dining car, VERY proud of himself and pretty damn self absorbent in pretty much every production. He is also NOT that nice. He was pretty terrible in the very original plot back in the day BUT DON'T FEAR! They very quickly edited those plot points and made him less terrible and more of just a really pompous jerk. Bochum GB is actually such a goofy guy by the end. His female counterpart in the new production doesn't lack her meanness either! She's just as big of a jerk but also just as big of a softie by the end of the show. Truly, the same in every universe. Being a girl and a lesbian does not destroy her asshole tendencies and I am glad for that. Let gay girls be jerks too!!!

Greaseball (London 1984, ft. Pearl, Dinah, and Ashley), Greaseball (Bochum, 2021, ft. Caboose)

_______ Electra, the engine of the future: QUEEREST PRE-2024 STEX CHARACTER WHOOOO? Despite never having been fully confirmed (at least up until recent) to be any specific non-cishet identity, Electra the electric engine has been an icon for the girls and the gays since day one. With he/him pronouns but a slightly feminine name and physical demeanor, it's clear he was made to represent a less traditional form of gender presentation as he has been played by actresses in the past too, though primarily has been portrayed by male actors. Andrew Lloyd Webber even once referred to Electra's main song, AC/DC, as "transgender electro-pop". Not to mention the casting notice for the 2019 Bochum cast having described Electra as 'gender fluid / androgynous'. Electra has a pack of "components" aka his freight car entourage who follow him around and sing his praises. He is also one of the antagonists, though antagonist is a bit of a strong word as he isn't as hardcore as Greaseball or our villainous railcar. He has more beef with the diesel than our main character as well, stealing his girl and the show at every opportunity. And also aggressively zapping him as often as possible. The only thing they have in common is that they're full of themselves, they want Rusty out of the race, and they want to win. No photos for Electra I gave him his spotlight earlier in this post. Though do remember that the newest version of Electra (got a little sleek helmet instead of hair, super pointy costume, blue and silver colors) is NOT he/him, they are they/them and so is their current main actor! Electra is accompanied by an entourage of "components", aka shiny and fancy freight cars that bend to the engine's every whim. Pre-2018 the components are Wrench the repair truck, Joule the Dynamite Truck, Volta the freezer truck, Krupp the armaments truck, and Purse the money truck. Post-2018 the components are Wrench, Volta, Joule, and Killerwatt the security truck, Krupp and Purse are no longer present. It is also important to note that pre-2018 Volta is portrayed as very feminine meanwhile post-2018 Volta is meant to be much more masculine. No photos for Electra they got photos earlier in this post and I'm trying to save myself from hitting the photo limit. Same for Rusty. _______ Rusty, the steam train: WOOO WOOO! WOOO WOO! Say hello to the titular bitchular that everyone loves. Seriously I've never seen a Rusty hater. Our main character and a timeless gem of the show, he's a pathetic wet cat, he's rusted and falling apart, and he meets god. The perfect man! Rusty obviously has the greatest arc over the entire story, he's our underdog and incredibly charming in all his forms. Overtime some actors have played him up as sassier while others amped up the wet cat energy (Looking at you, Javeen), but no matter how he's played you will feel sorry for him and likely fall in love with him. He's so overconfident at the start but is very quickly brought down by the other engines, fear not though, because he's the main guy!! I'll yap more about his whole thing in the story section. _______ The old steam engine: Had to make the title gender neutral w/ these guys bc GUESS WHO ELSE GOT GIRL'D IN 2018! Poppa, or in terms of Bochum 2018 and onward, Momma, is Rusty's mentor and the only other steam engine in the show. Quite stubborn, preachy in more ways than one, but ultimately good at heart. They're the engine that pushes Rusty to race and encourages Rusty to seek faith in the Starlight Express (Eyyyy title drop!). Most of this engine's role is story related too so I'll save that for then.

Poppa (Bochum, 1997, ft. Rusty), Momma (Bochum, 2018, ft. Dustin) _______ The freight: For the convience of I'm afraid to hit the word count, we're gonna lump the cars into whole sections. Minus one specific member of the freight due to plot significance. Anyway the freight!! Lots of people are big fans of them and I can't blame them. Though they went through a few changes here and there, they're usually a pretty consistent group (once again, minus 2024). From 1984 to 2003 they contained the boxcars aka the Rockies, then productions between 2003 and 2018 included the Hip Hoppers, with the 2018 rehaul marking the return of the Rockies to the show. All productions included Flat-Top the brick truck and Dustin the big hopper, and while Dustin does play a significant role in the show...there's a certain sixth member that plays the greatest role of all the freight. _______ The Red Caboose: Though his Bochum rehaul design spells out "brake van" on his shoulders (even though brake vans aren't cabooses, rant for another day) and he's gone by the Red Caboose for far longer, most know this beloved boy as CB...buuut the version that is widely marked as CB isn't technically CB! That was his original name in regards to the radio codes he used throughout the show- "10-4, smokey bear!" -C.B., 1984 "10-7, gone to heaven!" -Included in the segment after the first run of the final race -but his original name was dropped upon the entry to Broadway, from then on he was just the caboose, and he continues to be so to this day! No matter the production...or at least the ones he's in, he sticks out from the start as one of the guys to keep your eye on. And I'm sure you caught that, that's right, he's not even in every production! Though he is in most of them! His role is another plot heavy one so I'm sure you get the deal by now.

CB (London, 1984), Caboose (Bochum, 2006) _______ The Coaches: The girls, the lasses, the women, etc etc!!! Full of lovely ladies (again, not mentioning 2024's changes) and honestly the true stars of the show in my eyes. In this group is where you'll find our other main character! But would you believe they've also undergone swaps? Originally it was Pearl the observation car/first class carriage, Dinah the dining car, Ashley the smoking car, and Buffy the buffet car, and it remained that way for a long time...but there was an odd period in which Ashley was replaced with a sleeping car named Duvay, though Duvay didn't last very long in the grand scheme of things. Upon the 2018 rehaul, Buffy and Ashley were replaced with Carrie the luggage van and Belle the bar car. Belle actually shares her name with a coach that was present all the way up into the broadway production, though not really used afterwards. Belle the sleeping car was a companion to Poppa and while not part of the main quartet of coaches would usually appear with the other girls for Girls Rolling Stock! Broadway did OG Belle dirty but that's another rant for another day. Again, for simplicity's sake, we'll only individually cover the gals you absolutely gotta know about. _______ Pearl the observation car/first class carriage: Pearl girl!!! Very near and dear to me, our secondary main character and Rusty's love interest. The label for what type of coach she is varies from production to production, all you need to know for certain is she's a super shiny new coach and Rusty is absolutely INFATUED with her...but she's her own coach too, and she's not as quick to settle as he is. She makes it very clear that she wants her choices to be her own and she's not going to let someone else make those choices for her no matter what. She has her own little arc too. While in older productions Pearl is painted as being new but still having an established bond with Rusty, newer ones (aka bochum and london's current shows) paint Pearl as a completely new coach who doesn't know anyone and literally just got here, making her and Rusty's relationship a bit more fleshed out...but we'll discuss that more later!

Pearl (Bochum, 2011), Pearl (Bochum, 2019) _______ Dinah the dining car: HARD to not just ramble about how much I adore her. I am her she is me we are the same person, ESPECIALLY her 2024 variant same taste in women fr. A southern accented (usually) dining car, Dinah is Greaseball's partner with honestly a very inspiring little arc of her own, she's emotional and devoted to her partner but is not to be mistaken as someone who can't stick up for herself, because she makes it crystal clear that she's not someone to be pushed around. She was given even more of a powerful and independent personality in the 2018 rehaul/london revival, but she's always had fight in her from the very beginning!

Dinah (Bochum, 1993), Dinah (Bochum, 2018) AND WHOOPS TOO LONG OF A POST FOR TUMBLR. I'M GONNA HAVE TO PUT THE PLOT IN THE REBLOGS HOLD ON TIGHT. EDIT: I AM GOING TO HAVE TO MAKE A SEPARATE POST NOT A REBLOG BECAUSE TUMBLR WON'T SAVE THE REBLOG AS A DRAFT.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Do you have any personal thoughts on the Brookfield Zoo in Illinois? I've been going since I was a little kid and I personally love it- I'm really glad to see them making some (in my own, unprofessional opinion) much-needed renovations to their bottlenose dolphin exhibit.

It’s a nice facility, and I’m glad they’re doing the needed updates to dolphins and more. The Tropics House expansion has really been necessary for a while so it was great to finally see one announced - I love that their apes will get to go outside!

My other thought: it’s toooo big! I cannot physically get through that zoo in a single day, and a lot of that is crossing between areas. I know that’s part of the history of the facility and how the land was originally used, but it frustrates me to not be able to see the whole zoo in a day given how expensive the ticket cost is. The tram helps, but I wish things were a little more compact - especially since the electric scooters require reservations and can’t be rented the day of, e.g. if you end up being unable to walk the whole day.

I don’t have a ton more specific thoughts, because the most recent time I went was pretty much just to see a friend on staff and I didn’t explore the facility a ton, and I’m sure it’s changed in the 5+ years since my second-most-recent visit.

[ceresfromnationstates]

Character ref sheets: Henry H. Stickmin

A repost.

Henry Harison Stickmin

Nicknames: Hen, Hank, Sticks, Sticky, Sir Harison, HS_1214, Person of Interest #52763

Age: 28 (As of mid 2019.)

Birthplace: Carlsbad, NM

Current Location: Tucson, AZ

Nationality: Scottish-American

Physical description: Normal build, Blue eyes, (White, sunburnt skin), Shaven hair, Two scars on right forearm, Scar near upper abdomen.

Bio: It would seem that he's done with being a petty criminal. For now.

Just a normal dude like everybody else like him in his country.

No traumatic past, just a normal, carefree kid.

His parents divorced in late 2013, but they're still on good terms.

He's a bit Introverted, and as such is usually silent and doesn't feel all that comfortable out in public.

He considers himself an Agnostic.

Sometimes communicates using hand gestures or body language.

Doesn't like speaking in length, but can if he wants to.

Not a person to let bygones be bygones.

This particular Henry hails from a timeline where he hated toppats and other associated organized criminal groups.

Has substantial knowledge of other timelines, even remembers experiencing a temporal phenomenon well before the botched bank robbery attempt.

Frequently has vivid dreams (or nightmares) about bizarre things, and sometimes about things in the past or the other (less fortunate) timelines.

Has a diary to write down whatever happens in a day or what he's just experienced.

Has been keeping diaries well since mid 2016.

Knows about his extraordinary luck.

Doesn't know how many superntural abilities he possesses.

His knowledge about what happened in those timelines has made him pessimistic, a bit depressed, and hate himself for existing.

Has contemplated on the possibility that he might be living in a simulation, but has since dropped such "bogus crackpot conspiracy bullshit".

A light smoker. One pack is enough to last 2 weeks, and he rarely smokes.

His notoriety has died down since the beginning of 2019.

Sometimes asked if he is the real Henry Stickmin by passing pedestrians.

Has accounts on Reddit, Twitter and YouTube, all under the alias HS1214 and Twitter handle TheHenryHStickmin.

Has a close relationship with Ellie through their shared hardships.

He and Ellie bought a home together using both of their Gov't' monetary compensation.

Sold his old home too.

Both have lived normal daily lives, so far.

A novice home cook.

Has a large amount of friends/accomplices/confidants, ranging from high school and university classmates, members of the Goverment/Armed Forces, members of several police departments, and even an ex-CCC contractor, as well as from countries as far and obscure as Honduras, Australia, New Zealand, the Czech Republic, Turkiye, etc.

Knows a lot of languages, most notably Spanish, Scottish Gaelic, French, Portuguese, Italian, Romanian, German, Polish, Serbo-Croatian, Russian to name a few.

Keeps a roster of his notable confidants/accomplices on paper.

Knows Charles and Dave only to some degree, despite having met them on more than one occasion.

Never ashamed of being a former petty criminal.

Has an H&K USP Compact and an M16A2.

Likes wearing the same set of basic clothing every day (T-shirt, Trousers, Boots)

Recently started wearing boots more often.

Has a taste for clothing, loves thrifting and milsurp gear.

Sometimes, he will wear all black, balaclava included.

Other than his scooter, he also owns a Honda CR-V, which both he and Ellie drive.

Keeps all of his trinkets somwehere in his bedroom, even his Teleporter.

Puts some of his "spoils of war" (a number of various items from previous criminal acts) on display in his parts of house in a show of bravado. Including an empty money bag and the bumper of a police cruiser, license plate included.

Now just trying to live a more righteous life and stay away from crime.

Watched one too much news on TV and is probably plotting something daring against the remnants of what was once the Toppat Clan.

At the same time he only wishes to live a normal life and probably reverse his past mistakes temporally.

Doesn't know whether the CCC is onto him or not.

Backstory

Masterpost | Charles >

[benjitoum]

If you have stairs in your home, and no elevator, you will need a pair of crutches to supplement your scooter. Even if you are traveling by plane, you will need crutches to get in and out of the plane and the scooter will be checked at the gate. Seriously, crutches are just easier all around. Compact, lightweight, and if you don't find them easy to use, just *use them* and it will become second nature. PS these scooters are heavier and bulkier than they look.

[maureen-corpse]

Had a dream that someone parked his truck with three flat tires inside my house. I was cranky about it, but he also brought me fried chicken, so I kept quiet. this dream immediately followed one where i was driving my car in a car-unfriendly city and the best way to get on the way to car-friendlier pastures was to drive my car over a bridge, but on the railings. Like the bridge was too small for cars. I hated this so I took a razor scooter to see if there was a better route for compact cars.

the theme of last night was Cars Where They Shouldn’t Be

[bitter69uk]

In 1964, then-23-year-old starlet Ann-Margret bared her soul to 16 Magazine about her “hates and loves” (or, as they put it at the time: “Here they are - the deep-down, intimate secrets of your favourite new star!”). I think Ann-Margret speaks for all of us here! (Please don’t tell me some publicity agent or anonymous hack cobbled this together – the disillusionment would be overwhelming). Pull up a chair – this is one LONG mutha of list.

She hates for anyone to yell at her. She cried the first time a bandleader loudly chewed her out for being late to a rehearsal.

She hates dresses with lots of ruffles and frills. They make her feel like "... a Christmas tree!"

She hates vegetables - especially cooked spinach.

She hates to cook or anything to do with the kitchen.

She hates people who say nasty things about other people whom they don't even know.

She hates the fact that no matter how she rushes, she has a tendency to be late.

She hates to see too much make-up on a woman.

She hates to see an animal hurt.

She hates people who "...kid around with someone's emotions".

She hates gossip of any sort.

She hates rain.

She hates herself when she fluffs a song or dance, even during a rehearsal.

She hates people who think that show business is all whipped cream and glamour. Ann-Margret says: "It's one of the toughest professions in the world".

She hates it when people call her a star. "Right now, I am just a very fortunate girl", she earnestly maintains. "A star is someone who sustains, like Bette Davis".

She hates for people to try and pry into her personal life.

She hates the thought of sitting still for more than five minutes at a time.

She hates to have to straighten up her room.

She hates reports that she dates just for publicity.

She hates for people to tell her how to run her life.

She hates grey days and grey colours.

She hates people who complain and feel sorry for themselves.

She hates it when there is a mechanical failure in her car or motor scooter.

She hates to be told she ought to act such-and-such a way, because "... it's the thing to do".

She hates herself for being so painfully shy when it comes to meeting new people.

She hates jealousy of any kind.

She hates aggressive girls who brag that they can twist a man round their little finger.

She hates to get up early in the morning.

She hates prejudice in any form.

She hates to diet.

She loves going to football and basketball games.

She loves to ride her motor scooter through the Hollywood hills.

She loves a steak.

She loves to wear dark glasses.

She loves animals of all sorts.

She loves chocolate malts for breakfast.

She loves a windy night.

She loves big, shaggy sweaters.

She loves performing for a live audience.

She loves saving things. She has a huge chest, hand-carved by an uncle in Sweden, in which she stores all her mementoes.

She loves sad movies - even though they make her cry.

She loves the colour black.

She loves to sleep under lots of blankets.

She loves pizza with ginger ale.

She loves browsing through family photo albums.

She loves Cantonese food.

She loves talking on the phone. She has two "Princess" models in her bedroom.

She loves waterskiing.

She loves collecting stuffed animals - the pride of her collection is a huge lavender poodle Eddie Fisher gave her in New York. She took it back to California on the plane - strapped in the seat next to her.

She loves flowers and greenery of any sort.

She loves baked potatoes with sour cream, chives and butter.

She loves to travel - especially back to Sweden for a visit with relatives.

She loves the name Skuby. So far, it's the "handle" for her Yorkshire terrier (also a gift from Eddie Fisher).

She loves her red motor scooter and her red compact convertible car.

She loves window-shopping.

She loves the excitement of Las Vegas.

She loves watching parades.

She loves laughing and seeing others laugh.

She loves working with Elvis Presley.

She loves weddings. Last year she was maid of honour at the nuptials of Sharon Louver of Summit, N.J., and Joanie Stremmel, of Wilmette, Ill., both of whom had been her best friends since the sixth grade. She caught Janie's bouquet!

She loves dancing - especially the Twist.

She loves the new house she bought for herself and her parents in fashionable Benedict Canyon.

She loves the beach - day or night.

She loves Marlon Brando's acting.

She loves little children.

She loves Capri pants.

She loves candlelight dinners.

She loves watching TV.

She loves Sammy Davis, Jr. and Elvis Presley records.

She loves modern furniture.

She loves being alone for a certain part of every day.

She loves her good luck charms - a miniature red horse, ivory Buddha, smooth beach pebble and tiny hula doll named "Jungle Julie".

She loves writing in her diary.

She loves playing a jukebox.

She loves holding deep philosophical conversations.

She loves suede jackets.

She loves riding a bicycle.

She loves to write letters and receive them. Write to her at 8966 Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood, California.

[whumpster-fire]

My PHD thesis is that the aggressiveness of drivers is correlated with vehicle size and power with a minimum reached for compact sedans and hatchbacks with a modest power-to-weight ratio (for vehicles that can be driven without a special license).

Anything smaller (motorcycles, bicycles, scooters, e-skateboards) is correlated with asshole behavior through two mechanisms: the "Cocky SOB" mechanism where people think they're so maneuverable and in tune with their surroundings that traffic laws shouldn't apply to them because they can just swerve away from any potential accident (also applies to sports car drivers and some more powerful small or mid-sized cars e.g. Big Altima Energy) and the "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses!" effect where they believe their lack of crashworthiness means they can be as reckless and/or aggressive as they want and intimidate other road users with the threat of having someone's blood on their hands. Motorcyclists also have the "small yappy dog" effect where knowing they're driving a deathtrap makes them be as loud and obnoxious as possible "so people notice them." (i.e. "You don't understand, man, an exhaust that rattles windowpanes in a 5 city block radius is a safety feature!")

On the other hand, driving anything larger (SUVs, pickups, vans, rental box trucks that any idiot can drive) is increasingly correlated with entitled bullies who think driving a larger vehicle that will "win" in a crash gives them the right to drive aggressively via the "Whoever has more lug nuts has the Right Of Way" rule.

This hypothesis successfully predicts that Teslas, especially cybertrucks, should have the shittiest drivers on the road due to being both big and heavy and capable of very fast acceleration. It also successfully explains why cops almost always drive either motorcycles or bulky sedans and SUVs.

This follows up on other groundbreaking research in the field of Douchebagology, such as Everyone Driving Slower Than Me Is An Idiot, Everyone Driving Faster Than Me Is A Maniac, Everyone Driving the Same Speed As Me Is Camping In My Fucking Blind Spot.

[the-odd-ducks]

Hiboy S2/S2R Plus Electric Scooter Review

The Hiboy S2/S2R Plus Electric Scooter has quickly become a popular choice for urban commuters and casual riders alike, thanks to its blend of performance, convenience, and affordability. Below is a detailed review of the scooter's features, performance, and overall value.

Design and Build Quality

The Hiboy S2/S2R Plus boasts a sleek, minimalist design that is both stylish and functional. The frame is constructed from durable aluminum alloy, ensuring it can withstand daily wear and tear. The scooter has a clean, modern aesthetic, with a black matte finish that adds to its appeal.

One of the standout features is the foldable design, which makes the scooter incredibly portable. Whether you're hopping on public transport or storing it in a small apartment, the Hiboy S2/S2R Plus can easily fold down to a compact size. The locking mechanism is sturdy, providing confidence that the scooter will remain secure when folded.

Performance

Equipped with a 350W motor, the Hiboy S2/S2R Plus offers a top speed of 19 mph (30 km/h). This speed is sufficient for most urban environments, allowing riders to keep up with traffic or breeze past it during rush hour. The acceleration is smooth, and the motor provides ample power to tackle small inclines without straining.

The scooter features two riding modes: Normal and Sport. The Normal mode conserves battery life while still delivering respectable performance, making it ideal for leisurely rides or longer commutes. The Sport mode unlocks the full potential of the motor, offering a more thrilling ride for those who crave speed.

Battery Life and Range

The Hiboy S2R model features a detachable battery, a significant upgrade over the standard S2. This feature allows users to swap out the battery on the go, effectively doubling the range without the need for a lengthy charging session. The standard battery provides a range of up to 17 miles (27 km), depending on the terrain, rider weight, and speed mode.

Charging the battery takes around 4-6 hours, which is fairly standard for electric scooters in this class. The detachable battery can be charged separately from the scooter, offering added convenience for those with limited charging options.

Ride Comfort and Safety

Ride comfort is enhanced by the solid tires, which are puncture-proof and maintenance-free. While solid tires can sometimes lead to a rougher ride compared to air-filled ones, the Hiboy S2/S2R Plus compensates with front and rear dual shock absorbers. These absorbers effectively dampen vibrations and bumps, providing a smoother ride on uneven surfaces.

Safety is a top priority, and the Hiboy S2/S2R Plus doesn't disappoint. The scooter is equipped with a dual braking system: an electronic brake at the front and a disc brake at the rear. This combination ensures responsive stopping power, even in wet conditions. Additionally, the scooter features a bright LED headlight, taillight, and side reflectors to enhance visibility during night rides.

Technology and Features

The Hiboy S2/S2R Plus is packed with smart features that elevate the riding experience. The LCD display on the handlebar provides real-time information on speed, battery life, and riding mode. The scooter also connects to the Hiboy app via Bluetooth, allowing riders to track their rides, customize settings, and even lock the scooter for added security.

Another notable feature is the cruise control function, which allows riders to maintain a constant speed without holding down the throttle. This is particularly useful for longer rides, reducing hand fatigue and making the journey more enjoyable.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Solid Performance: The 350W motor offers a good balance of speed and power for urban commuting.

Detachable Battery: The S2R model's removable battery allows for extended range and easy charging.

Portable Design: The foldable frame makes it easy to carry and store.

Safety Features: Dual braking system, LED lights, and reflectors enhance safety.

Comfortable Ride: Dual shock absorbers and solid tires provide a smooth ride on various terrains.

Smart Features: The LCD display, app connectivity, and cruise control add convenience and customization.

Cons:

Limited Range: The 17-mile range may not be sufficient for longer commutes without a second battery.

Solid Tires: While puncture-proof, they can lead to a slightly rougher ride on very bumpy roads.

Charging Time: A full charge takes 4-6 hours, which might be inconvenient for frequent riders.

Conclusion

The Hiboy S2/S2R Plus Electric Scooter is an excellent choice for those seeking a reliable, feature-rich scooter for urban commuting. Its combination of performance, portability, and smart features makes it a strong contender in the electric scooter market. While the range may be a limiting factor for some, the detachable battery in the S2R model offers a practical solution. Whether you're a daily commuter or a weekend rider, the Hiboy S2/S2R Plus delivers a smooth, safe, and enjoyable ride at a competitive price point.

[practically-an-x-man]

If your OC's went vehicle shopping, who would pick what? (Ex; who's trading a casserole for a second hand scooter versus who's buying a Mercedes)

Ooooh, very good question! I don't know car models very well so we're just going off the vibes lol

Rae: whatever has a big enough cabin space for Warren's wings. She really doesn't care about the other details

Robin: something smaller, easy to drive. She doesn't do a whole lot of driving to begin with, mainly just to the opera house and back, so she wants something simple

Madison: she's buying a pickup truck for sure!

Jasper: literally just whatever they can afford that isn't going to break down five miles down the road. Money is a challenge, they just need to get from point A to point B right now

Ophelia: the only reason she'd buy a car is to scrap it for parts. She can drive, but she's not willing to deal with all the NYC traffic when she could just walk or use her actuators to get where she needs to go

Katherine: same here. She lives in New York and will just walk or take public transport. Besides, she doesn't really have the money to spend on a vehicle right now anyway.

Quinn: before her accident, she'd want some cool-looking sports car and she'd have so much fun driving it. Afterwards though, driving is painful enough for her, so she'd have to shop smart and find something with a larger cabin (so she doesn't have to deal with compacting her height into a small car in addition to all the usual pains of driving)

Kestrel: would buy a scooter or something if they really really need to get somewhere, but they don't drive. Either Warren will drive them where they need to go, or they'll just shapeshift and fly there. Technically they can drive a car in a pinch (Warren taught them in case of emergency), but they don't have a license and find driving stressful.

Eris: doesn't have the patience for car shopping, would test drive three vehicles at a single dealership, buy whichever one has the best vibes, and call it done. The only caveat is that they tried to find a car Rick would fit in comfortably (though the mental image of him trying to fit his whole 6'3" linebacker frame into a Honda Civic was a little funny)

Nikoletta: Would buy a fairly innocuous black coupe, maybe a few years old but not a clunker. Solidly middle-of-the-road.