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#do you really wanna do this again
egophiliac · 9 days
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was gonna wait 'til I'd done all the poms, but it's been a day, so have Vil with a Salazzle 🍎
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turtleblogatlast · 18 days
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Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#plot twist he COULD be admitting angsty stuff but he’s pushing the less oof truths forward instead on purpose#raph: hey leo what do you want for dinner#leo: *about to bare his soul on all his internal torment but pivots* I’m afraid of snakes#(no but fr Leo’s stripes being technically more pink instead of red is cute ngl)#(a very reddish pink to the point that in certain lighting it looks red but at the base they’re p pink)#(i also am very fond of the idea that Leo doesn’t just have questionable taste in fashion he also just loves Raph a lot and looks up to him)#but yeah I think that something like this would be 99% Leo admitting to unimportant things or admitting to how much he values everyone#like they all KNOW Leo loves them and he’s talked them up enough for them to know but it’s different when he’s like#‘I just wanna read my comics with you guys around - it’s my favorite place to be’#or again just random bs that doesn’t REALLY have a lot of weight like#‘I like using my portals to prank random people around the world’#‘I’m worried about being a bad influence on hueso jr’#‘sometimes I kinda wanna see hypno’s plans succeed’#‘it’s been way too long since I found this out and honestly it’s embarrassing but I actually don’t have a di-‘#SORRY COULDNT HELP MYSELF#(<-but did u know that that pink rather than red observation actually ties into this headcanon as well if u know about red eared sliders)
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tubbytarchia · 3 months
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MAY I HUMBLY REQUEST MORE RENDOG.... I really love your design for him <3
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Dude I'm so sorry I drew Tango instead idk what happened
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Surprise shiny duo!!! :)
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ccassettetape · 6 months
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i am writing an accidental haiku to attract haiku bot
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bixels · 3 months
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While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.
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Bye.
#ask me#anon#once AGAIN.#I am not dropping anything#the au is not getting cancelled. more than likely i'm gonna take a break from it until i find motivation again#But I've been drawing the AU for half a fucking year#In that time I've only drawn 5 things that aren't mlp related#I'm getting tired and my last few posts didn't do as well as I'd hoped#And I'm not about to burn myself out on mlp au art even if I really do love making it#I'm still gonna make comics. I have a bunch of ideas.#Tulli and I still wanna do the limited run merch shop#Discord is still coming. Sunset is still coming. Sombra is still coming. I have so many ideas#But I need to do something else for my own sake. Did you know I was supposed to get the background 6 designs done by now#But I didn't because I'm TIRED#I've been keeping myself on a schedule to keep content pumping despite travel and school and family and I'm tired#what i'm getting isn't matching what i'm giving and that's nobody's fault. i'm not frustrated at anyone. a slump was bound to happen#drawing the au was fun until it become my Thing. Because when your Thing––your identity––starts to faulter#it can really make you freak out#And that's not healthy for the project or for myself. I need to find the fun again and I'm sure I will#I'm really appreciative of everyone's support in my inbox and replies it really does mean a lot especially given that about 2/3 of my#followers followed for mlp. But if you're gonna react to me saying “i'm gonna cool down on mlp art and draw my own stuff” with “i'm#disappointed in you." then Leave! I think it's good you're unfollowing#you are not obligated to stick by my side! But don't act like I'm doing you a disservice by turning my attention elsewhere#I didn't promise anyone anything and I definitely didn't say I'm breaking any promises.
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bluerosefox · 7 months
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Of Godsons, Fruitloops, and Lois 'I will drag all secrets out into the sun' Lane
Danny loses his parents due to their own lack of safety in the lab (death? Coma? People finally putting their foot down about the Fenton's endangering their kids? Idk pick). Jazz can't take him in due to being in college and living on its campus (and he didnt want to force her into an apartment just to keep him, he saw the prices and knows she'll have to work to make rent) and Danny fears the only place he can go to is... Vlad. (Sam's parents would never let him live with her and Tucker's place doesn't have the room)
Vlad's been lording it over Danny, smug about it all, after all he IS Danny's godfather and he has the space and money to provide for the boy in his time of need.
Only, when digging into Danny's files, his social worker discovers Vlad isn't Danny's godfather, he was meant to be but the Fenton's forgot to send/sign in the final paperwork (even if those documents were the only contact they had with Vlad over the years before the reunion)
No Danny's godparent, the person to take him should anything happen to the Fenton's is....
Lois Lane.
His mom's childhood friend.
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greatestjubilee · 4 months
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bleh
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autisticaradiamegido · 2 months
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day 39
a redraw from a couple years back that was originally a redraw from 2014 so thats a FULL DECADE OF PROGRESS, BABEY!!
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jtl-fics · 10 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 17
PREVIOUS
1. You do not talk about the Speakeasy in the basement 2. You DO NOT TALK about the Speakeasy in the basement
Those are two of the three cardinal rules of Eden’s Twilight both as a VIP customer and as an employee. The rest are more suggestions or requests that are fairly malleable depending on the night and the patron.
Andrew himself had broken the latter half of ‘Don’t be a dick or try anything with your dick on the club premises’ multiple times with Roland and then he’d broken it even further and with more vigor with Neil.
Roland had tried to bill them for the furniture in the break room and Andrew had been more than happy to use some of the blackmail he’d been holding onto to make it go away despite Neil’s repeated attempts to try and pay for it. “It’s my fault Andrew, I asked you to lay me there.” And “Allison didn’t warn me that it could stain fabric, she said it transferred really easily onto skin.” Had been waved away as Roland was happy to have those particular bits of blackmail out of play.
That being said Roland had come in despite the clear ‘occupied’ signs on the door and interrupted some of Andrew’s finest work a few weeks ago (His from? Excellent. His pacing? Excellent. His angle? Excellent. The noises Neil had been making? Perfection.)
Roland still couldn’t look at Neil without his eyes wandering where they shouldn’t so Andrew had a guest pass for the speakeasy waiting for him at the bar to make up for that wandering eye.
Which meant that he could take FF down to the speakeasy tonight. He was sure that FF would pass muster and be able to come without a pass after the night, he was just the kind of guy that they liked to have down there.
It would all be so simple if it weren’t for the third cardinal rule of Eden’s Twilight.
3. Nicky Hemmick is not allowed to know about the Speakeasy.
When Nicky had worked at Eden’s he’d been popular but he’d also talked about all sorts of secrets. He spilled tea like Aaron had spilled drinks.
So the club had done what it had to do in order to protect the incredibly select and private feature of their club:
They lied about what was down there and then they committed to that lie.
So the day came and Nicky was looking at the door with a guard next to it, “Where does that go?” He asked.
“It’s an exclusive club for straight swingers to meet and swap.” The lie rolls off of Roland’s tongue like the truth.
Nicky made a disgusted face. “Straight people.” He said shaking his head and then Roland swiftly made some purchases to sell his lie and offered the guard Frank an additional $5 an hour if he was willing to change his uniform.
Nicky Hemmick has never gone near the door since then and it is considered a success for the record books by all of the staff and VIPs in the know.
Which is why Andrew had needed a plan to pry Nicky off of FF for the night.
Nicky and FF had spent the entire time at Sweeties elbowing one another and laughing (well Nicky laughed and FF tolerated all of Nicky’s jokes and implications stoically), Nicky had been sticking with FF like he was one of the various flecks of glitter that stuck to FF after the freshman had slept in Nicky’s bed.
Before he’d gotten FF dressed up Nicky had made a solemn oath, “You and me Smithy, we’ll dance the night away!” Nicky had exclaimed.
“I’m good thanks.” FF said, “You know what will happen if I dance.” He says and Nicky grimaces as if remembering something painful. He wonders if FF just isn’t a good dancer or if the consequences of someone bumping into him were as painful as they were when someone bumped into Andrew on the dance floor.
“Well, then you and me will just have to spend the entire night chatting in the booth Smithy!” Nicky had smiled as if he wasn’t fucking up Andrew’s plans to take FF down to the speakeasy where they could sit without the headache inducing music that Nicky, Aaron, and even Kevin (he claims Stockholm syndrome) claim to love.
So, Andrew had needed to find a way to get Nicky to a state where he would be compelled to dance and leave FF alone for the night.
There are exactly three sure-fire ways to get Nicky Hemmick to become a slave to the dance floor.
1. You have to play his favorite music and Andrew doesn’t know if there’s enough blackmail in the world to get Roland to force a DJ to play nothing but Nicki Minaj’s Super Bass, Gasoline by Daddy Yankee, or Usher’s DJ’s Got Us Fallin’ In Love (his three current obsessions) on a loop for the entire night. (Bust)
2. You are Erik Klose and you want to dance. This option was unlikely due to Erik currently (as far as Andrew knew) being in Germany. (Bust)
3. Nicky has taken some party drugs. (Feasible)
So, Andrew may have been the one that had reminded both his brother and Nicky about Cracker Dust on their way to the car. Neil shoots him a look he ignores because Andrew hasn’t really pushed or mentioned Cracker Dust in almost a year.
It was something that they had all gotten off of for various reasons the year prior.
Neil had never started, Andrew had his deal with Neil, Kevin wanted to cut back on the substances he was abusing and he was not going to be giving up alcohol anytime soon, Aaron had needed a squeaky clean image for the trial, and Nicky had given it up in solidarity.
Aaron had been bemoaning that he had forgotten to get any the last four times they had gone to Eden’s so, really, Andrew was just being a thoughtful brother when he’d reminded his cousin.
So when they park the Maserati and head into the club it is no shock that after the first round of drinks (Neil & FF both had bottled waters) Nicky whips out the sandwich baggy he had gotten from FF and hands Aaron his share.
In a turn of good luck a bass heavy remix of Flo Rida’s Club Can’t Handle Me started playing and the only thing Nicky did was squeal, kiss FF’s cheek, and drag Aaron out onto the dance floor.
And then there were three.
***
FF had NOT been able to figure out where the hell the bathrooms were.
It might be due to the fact that his stomach is trying to stage a revolt against him but he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to read English. There are no other languages around  for him to see if this illiteracy has spread to other languages.
He wonders it he brought out his katakana flashcards if the lines would blur or if his brain would be so filled with the unrelenting desire to go to the bathroom that his Professor would wonder how he ever got full marks on his midterm.
Maybe clubs didn’t have signs that pointed to the bathroom? Was he supposed to go up and ask that bartender that Andrew kept going to? Was it like a gas station where he had to ask for keys?
Oh god Captain Neil just asked him something.
When the hell did Nicky lea-
Oh Dj’s Got Us Falling In Love is playing. Nicky is definitely on the dance floor. FF has yet to escape Nicky grinding on him whenever this song happens to come on the radio he is sure that someone right now out on the dance floor is suffering the same fate that he has 3-4 times a week.
He wonders if Nicky will call Erik like he usually does when it comes on outside of the club.
At least it’s super hard to hear in this club if Nicky takes a seat next to him and starts gushing to Erik in German.
Oh god Captain Neil just asked him something and he just remembered that this would be the second time Captain Neil has asked him something.
If there was one weakness in FF’s foreign language arsenal it is that he has a hard time processing language when surrounded by loud sounds. If he knows what language they’re talking in he can sometimes get by on reading lips (does that count as another language? Probably not) but Captain Neil speaks like four languages fluently and his Spanish is getting better and better every-
Oh god Captain Neil and Andrew just asked him something and he still hasn’t answered the other two times.
“I can’t hear you!” He calls out and hopes they can at least understand HIM.
Andrew rolls his eyes and bumps Captain Neil’s shoulder with his own. He sees Andrew whisper something to Captain Neil before pointing somewhere in the distance.
OH
They had noticed his obvious plight and were going to show him to the bathroom!
That was nice.
Maybe Nicky had asked them before his songs came on.
Andrew and Captain Neil are out of the booth and Andrew juts his chin off in a certain direction. FF does NOT need to be told twice, he’s more than happy to follow Andrew to the bathroom like some pre-schooler following their mom. These are desperate times.
So Andrew and Captain Neil guide him across the dance floor and…sure enough Nicky is grinding on some other guy who looks like he’s in heaven and he thinks he can see Aaron’s pale arms flying uncoordinatedly all over the place somewhere in the middle distance.
FF finds himself with Captain Neil and Andrew in a hallway. There’s a guard in front of the door with a bizarre pineapple shirt (why are they all upside down?) on but FF hadn’t even dressed himself tonight so he really shouldn’t judge.
“Minyard, Josten, and one guest.” He can hear Andrew say now that they’re away from the loud thrum of the music.
How fancy is this bathroom?
The man looks at Andrew, Captain Neil, and then FF. There is a visible head-to-toe inspection when he hits FF and whatever the man sees must past muster.
“Acceptable. You know the rules.”
Rules?
Wash your hands?
Don’t piss on the floor?
Let staff know if the urinal is low on ice?
FF hoped the rules would be posted in easy to understand pictures because his ability to read the English language was still heavily hampered at the moment.
Why is the handle to the door an upside pineapple too? Did someone install it wrong? Also Eden’s does not give off a very tropical vibe so why would they pick that?
The door opens and-
Oh.
Those are stairs.
Oh.
Andrew’s taking him to the basement.
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ride-a-dromedary · 6 months
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You're not a doppelganger, are you? Trying to study me, learn all my secrets so you can take my place?
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marclef · 27 days
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guess who's (slowly) comin' back baby
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wanted to try making the squishy boy more expressive 🤗
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varilien · 6 months
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(dress ref)
there's aus where u try to recreate the "effect" of a character's personality and behavior through an alternative "cause", and then there's this shit where i Just think umm well personally wolfwood being down to kill for vash is hot and it's a bummer vash doesn't think so too, but what if an au where he does ?
it's not a true "villain" vash au, basically it goes that vash decided to stick it out with knives in the hopes he could mitigate the damage knives planned to do to mankind, and it's worked for the most part-- at the expense of vash taking on much of knives' ire himself. this vash is even more isolated than in canon, unable to meet the standard knives enforces for what a god is supposed to look like, and constantly concerned with appeasing knives: dressing and styling his hair in a way that doesn't annoy him, talking very little, always offering compromises that put himself at a disadvantage
it's a wholly bad deal, up until the eye (yeah i'm blending stuff from other triguns in even tho it's a 98 au lol) offer vash their latest up-and-coming disciple to protect and serve him directly, though the "protecting" thing ends up being extremely mutual. wolfwood is the first bright spot in vash's life in a hundred years, and he's not going to allow anybody to take that away
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satans-knitwear · 7 months
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today's look was sweet af but i was too tired to take more pics 😭
Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me
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tunastime · 4 days
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A Minute in the Morning
so I started playing pokemon legends arceus. crumples to the ground. (2762 words)
In a hazy, rusty morning light, Ingo wakes up.
It’s a slow start—like his office computer, taking a whole ten minutes to finish booting, enough to stir sugar into his morning coffee and dissect his breakfast sandwich into parts. It feels like it takes just about that much time for Ingo to become aware of where he’s lying, which is in bed. Which is not where he fell asleep to begin with, which means that someone lifted him to bed and tucked him in. Which was rather sweet. Because he’s burrowed into the covers like a happy drilbur, keeping the cold from his fingers and toes and nose. He finally blinks his eyes open, and it’s sunrise that fills his room. Not his room. Scratch that. Emmet’s room. No wonder the blankets are so much lighter than he remembers them being. Nevertheless. Happy drilbur. He weasels a little more into the pillow. From either side of him, something moves. It’s slight, if there, but as he cranes his neck, slow and careful, he can see a dark head of hair on one side, and silver-white on the other. 
Ingo’s heart swells a fraction too big and too warm for his chest as he sighs out.
Elesa and Emmet haven’t woken up yet, which is a plus. If he were to move too much and move them he might lose the warmth from either side. Elesa’s shoulder rests against the crest of his back, and Emmet’s holding onto his elbow with one hand. The grip is loose at best, but the warmth, both from shoulder to spine and hand to elbow, seeps through him.
It’s blurry. Just everything. It kind of mushes together in his brain, like jam. Or maybe jelly. It doesn’t really matter. If he thinks too hard, his stomach starts to twist in knots, and he’d rather not feel sick while he’s trying to enjoy his morning. He remembers falling asleep while the television played the night prior—nighttime skits and commercials he filtered out until Emmet’s shoulder became the comfiest thing. He supposes that sometime between that point, and the point which he’s just woken up, Elesa came in, and at some other point, he was carted off to bed. It’s nice, though. The blankets make just enough weight over him to soothe ache and anxiety, and it’s warm, and he’s mostly thinking about how nice a cup of coffee sounds right now. Maybe a latte. Something warm. He shuts his eyes again.
The light is surprisingly yellower when he wakes up again. There’s still a warm weight on both sides of him, but it feels different than before. It stretches over him, too, more than just the weighted blanket that’s been added on top of him. He peeks an eye open to find Eelektross slumped over him, his large head curled near Ingo’s shoulder and his similarly large eyes shut as he snores. Ingo snorts, trying to shift to his back with the weight over him, without waking Eelektross. He does after a moment, settling once again, only for Eelektross to huff and fix one, tired eye on his face. Ingo smiles, just a little.
Wriggling a hand free, he pats Eelektross’ forehead, a path well pet and well loved.
“Good morning, you gigantic eel.”
Eelektross trills, nuzzling into Ingo’s hand.
“Mm, yes,” Ingo says. “I’m sure that definitely did not alert Emmet that I am awake, meaning I can’t fake any more sleep. Thank you Eelektross.”
The eel gives a happy sniff.
Ingo snorts.
Typical.
The door cracks open a moment later, the wide eyes of his brother peeking through. He raises his eyebrows, looking over Ingo and Eelektross still in bed. It comes with a little head tilt, something Ingo knows is indicative of an Emmet with a question.
“Sleep well?” he asks. Ingo nods.
“I think so,” he says. “I didn’t realize I’d be carried to bed when I fell asleep.”
“Ah!” Emmet says, eyebrows raising. “I made sure you stayed asleep when we carried you in. You’re a very deep sleeper when you want to be.”
It’s getting better, the gaps in his memory. It’s not enough to trust himself to start his duties as a Subway Boss again, but it's enough to have a few doctor’s appointments and to speak with police and his boss and their coworkers. He’s remembered their pokemon, which is why Eelektross didn’t startle him. And he’s remembered enough for him to fall asleep on Emmet’s shoulder with no care in the world. Enough for life to begin to settle from the chaos. Today is Tuesday, which means Emmet has the day off, and Ingo can tell, even as he reaches to wipe sleep from his eyes, that Emmet is still in his pajamas. He opens the door a little wider, leaning against the doorframe. 
“Ah,” Ingo echoes. “Was it Elesa’s idea to sleep in your room rather than my own?”
“It was,” Emmet concedes, smiling. “But I am Emmet, and I make a very good pillow.”
“You are Emmet and you are a very clingy sleeper,” Ingo says, letting his eyes shut again. Emmet makes a startled noise.
“Go-Go, don’t fall asleep again,” he yaps. “Your breakfast will get cold.”
Slowly, Ingo opens one eye, looking at his brother in the doorway. Eelektross snuffs into his shoulder, wriggling off of him. He grunts as the eel’s weight shifts off, leaving him free, but cooler.
“What’s for breakfast?” he says, watching Eelektross wriggle off the bed and toward Emmet. Emmet opens the door a bit further, takes a step back, and hefts the eel into his arms, knees bending with the weight. Ingo watches Emmet giggle to himself, shifting Eelektross in his arms to better wrap around his neck and arms, weight heavy against him. Clearly.
“Pancakes,” Emmet huffs. He’s still smiling, something almost infectious.
“Alright,” Ingo sighs.
“I also cut some fruit.”
“I’m getting up,” Ingo grumbles, rolling onto his side before he peels himself up and into a sit.
“I think Elesa left her nice coffee creamer, also.”
“I’m already up, Em,” Ingo snorts, trying not to laugh. “You don’t have to convince me.”
Emmet laughs again.
“Just adding!” he says cheerily, wobbling off toward the living room. In the open doorway, Ingo can see the sprawl of their living room and kitchen, lit by yellow daylight. Ingo sighs, stretching his arms above his head, twisting around. When the room settles, he stands, and he realizes that the room is warm around him. Emmet must’ve turned the heat on, and it must actually be working. He hums as he combs his hair back, wandering into the bathroom to wash his face.
When he finally makes it to the kitchen table, Emmet is sitting at the table, scrolling on his x-transceiver. He’s changed into a cream-colored, high collared sweater, his hair held back with a small headband. Eelektross is lying across the couch, head resting on the arm. There’s a plate of pancakes sitting in front of Ingo’s seat at the table, and a half-eaten plate in front of Emmet. He looks up as Ingo sits, raising his eyebrows.
“Good morning,” Emmet says. He nudges a cup of coffee toward Ingo. It’s a light brown color—likely the way that Ingo likes it. It helps they like their plain coffee the same way. If it were any other type of coffee, Ingo’s certain there would be some big disagreement—type of milk and way of prep and iced versus hot. But Ingo takes a long sip of hot coffee and nearly sighs in relief. Whatever fancy creamer Elesa buys really does make a plain cup of coffee so much better. He sits, nudging Emmet with his foot under the table.
“What are you reading?” he asks, gesturing with his fork to Emmet’s phone. Emmet holds it up.
“Article on a new electric rail system in Galar.” 
Ingo tilts his head, nodding along.
“Interesting. Any good?”
“Very efficient,” Emmet says, nodding along. He eventually pulls back, setting his phone face down on the table and returning to his pancakes. He takes a large bite, and through it, says:
“Maybe Gear Station should get some upgrades.”
Ingo snorts.
“We’re already quite efficient,” he says. “Do you think our trains could be quicker? Easier to board?”
Emmet shrugs.
“Wishful thinking. They’re already automatically driven, so there isn’t much more, but maybe longer cars to hold more passengers. Our trains are quite small.”
“Sounds expensive,” Ingo says, drinking his coffee. He pulls apart his stack of pancakes, poking at them with his fork.
“Maybe they’ve already got an upgrade in the works,” Emmet says. “It’s been a while since we’ve had an all-staff meeting. Perhaps we should inform the director.”
“Especially since I’ve returned and have about three years to catch up on, mm?”
Emmet smiles. It’s a bit tight, though. Ingo glances away, biting into his tongue. Should’ve kept that thought to himself.
“Maybe you’re right,” he says. “Though I promise you that not much has changed in the last three years.”
Ingo hums. He believes it, that nothing much has shifted. It’s hard to say, obviously, considering he wasn’t there to see it for himself, but his brother was never the type to lie without a reason, and this certainly didn’t have a good one. He takes a large bite of pancake and finds them still warm. It’s a quiet breakfast, between pancakes and coffee and Galvantula sleeping underneath the table. Emmet eventually finishes his food, shoveling large bites of pancake into his mouth as quickly as he can. Ingo watches him swallow with surprising difficulty, reaching for his cup of coffee. It takes a moment for Ingo to stomach the rest of his pancakes. Having this much food is a luxury he had not often afforded a month prior. His stomach still wasn’t used to it.
“Where is Elesa?” Ingo asks after a beat. Emmet talks through a mouthful of pancake and strawberry and maple syrup. 
“Mm, she had four battle appointments today, but she’ll be back around. Probably before two.”
Emmet is the first to finish, setting all his dishes together as he stands. He moves around Ingo as Ingo finishes, collecting dishes and setting everything in the sink. As Ingo stands to pass him his plate, he asks:
“Did you have a plan today?
“Mm?” Emmet hums. “No, not particularly. Why? Is there something you wanted to do?”
Ingo frowns, face pulling.
“Well,” he starts. “I was thinking—”
“Ah,” Emmet interjects. “Your first mistake—”
“I was thinking,” Ingo continues, narrowing his eyes. “That it might be a good idea for us to visit Elesa. I need to ask her for a new coat.”
“Mm!” Emmet startles, turning toward him. His face brightens. “That’s right! You do need a new coat. Good thing she’ll be over later, mm?”
Ingo nods. He fetches his coffee mug, pouring another cup of black coffee to balance the sweetened dregs. He leans back against the counter right as Emmet goes to hand him a dish to put away. They work in tandem for a moment, pausing as Ingo works to finish his coffee.
It’s a slow morning, 8:45am, and Ingo gazes back at his bed with longing.
It’s just. When’s the last time he had such a good sleep, right? On a bed that soft? He’d gotten so used to tatami mats and the grass and canvas laid out on the ground and here was a bed, with thick fluffy blankets and several large pillows and another person taking up space. It was very—stop it, Ingo—it’s comfortable. He hands Emmet his coffee mug.
“Ingo,” Emmet says.
Ingo hums. His eyes have drifted to the couch. Maybe standing is a little hard today. He should sit, shouldn’t he?
“Is my brother still up there?” Emmet asks, tapping Ingo’s head. Ingo startles as he does, turning to him.
“I would hope so,” he says. “Otherwise I don’t know where I’d be.”
“Not here, obviously” Emmet says. He finishes rinsing Ingo’s mug, setting it top down on the drying mat. “Though I’m not entirely sure you’re all there right now, are you?”
“Trying,” Ingo hums. “Too much going on.”
Emmet hums, a bit of a laugh showing through.
“You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“I won’t,” Ingo promises.
“I don’t believe you,” Emmet says, shutting off the sink. The clean dishes sit on the rack, dripping water. Emmet wipes his hands with a dish towel. “You know, you should be resting if your engine isn’t working at full capacity. Rest is very important”
“Can’t be a well oiled machine with nowhere to go,” Ingo says, folding his arms. “I don’t understand why I don’t have the energy to move anymore.”
“Does the why matter?” Emmet asks. He’s leaning against the counter now, a mirror to Ingo, like he often was to Emmet. It was a natural progression—one following after the other, a mirror, a shadow, a doppleganger.
“It matters a little,” Ingo shrugs. “It matters to me. It gives me a reason.”
“Your reason is that you’ve gone through a lot,” Emmet says, pushing away from the counter. He scoops up his x-transceiver from the table, moving around it and through the apartment as he talks. “Your reason is that your body is playing catch-up with the world around you.”
“Maybe,” Ingo huffs.
“I am Emmet,” says his brother. “I am tired. I don’t sleep well. Do you think it’s my fault that I’m tired and don’t sleep well?”
Ingo grits his teeth. He hates this part—ever since they were little, Emmet would flip this hypocritical card, showing Ingo exactly how stupid he was sounding. It was good, for the most part, because Emmet was right and next time Emmet did the same thing, Ingo could follow suit with that card. But it was so annoying watching it now, watching Emmet throw open the blinds and shimmy open the window for the fire escape. A tinged-cool spring breeze filters in through the open window, tossing the curtains aside. Emmet keeps moving as Ingo thinks, the gears in his head turning slowly, still dulled with sleep. 
“No,” Ingo says shortly, watching Emmet rearrange coasters on the coffee table, setting game controllers back into their docks. “I don’t think anything is your fault.”
“Well now you are just flattering me, Go-Go.”
“Don’t say that flattery never got anyone anywhere,” Ingo says, pointing at him, waving his finger. Emmet laughs.
“My point is,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “You’re allowed to rest. We can figure out the steps from there, right? Even if we’re sitting on the couch to do it.”
Ingo sighs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Even if I fall asleep?”
Emmet nods, still smiling a little.
“I will wake you if you do.”
Ingo huffs out a laugh, feeling the edges of his mouth quirk up. As Emmet sits on the soft, corduroy couch, Ingo feels himself pulled forward, as if recalled, to sit beside him. He brings his knees up as he settles into his familiar spot between the back and arm of the couch. 
“Do you promise you’ll shake me awake?” Ingo says, leaning his head against the back of the couch. Emmet scrunches his nose.
“Yes,” he says, knocking his knuckles into Ingo’s knee. “I do. But I’m going to watch Alakazam! so you can think without my talking.”
Ingo nods. The television hums to life quietly in the background.
Emmet always watches Alakazam! at 9am. At least, when he can catch it. Ingo watches the last few minutes of the previous game show, something quiet and low despite the flash of colors and excited spread of energy. As the show starts, he watches Emmet’s face shift, that serious pull to his mouth and the furrow of his eyebrows that Ingo only sees when they’re battling. To see that spark again, not knowing how long it’s been gone, turns a question in Ingo’s mind.
“Emmet,” he says.
“Yes, I am Emmet,” Emmet says. “You are Ingo. What do you need?”
“I think I've got an idea of what I want to do today.”
Emmet turns his head a bit, looking at Ingo mostly out of the corner of his eye. His eyes flick back and forth between Ingo’s face and the television, waiting for his program to start.
“Mm?” Emmet asks. Ingo smiles a bit, a laugh stuck behind his teeth.
He sees the glint in Emmet’s eye before he even asks his question.
“What about a pokemon battle?”
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doodlebloo · 9 months
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I’m sure I’ve said this but Penelope Scott “Feel Better” is so c!Tubbo it’s actually insane.
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genericpuff · 4 months
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yeah i don't think this is the kind of advertising rachel needs right now-
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