**The Race to Knapford: Thomas vs. Rosie**

Prompt: (Thomas The Tank Engine And Rosie The Tank Engine) Thomas and Rosie decide to race each through Sodor to see who arrives at Knapford first. Thomas had been bullying Rosie all month long undermining her skills just because she's female, so the dispute was set. Rosie tells him that if he wins she will have the workmen get rid of her pink paintwork and change her paint color to any different color but if he loses he will have to have his painted number 1 logo erased by the workmen and have them paint it onto her instead and admit she's superior and that he was wrong to underestimate her every day, whether he likes it or not, additionally he will have to admit his feelings for her and consider her his girlfriend. And so the race occurs an hour later. (both characters are cocky, the story doesn't include any other engines besides them) (no reconciliation, comeuppance, and ends with the loser reluctantly holding up their end of the bet and quietly sulking afterwards) (Rosie Wins) (Rosie wins the race entirely unfazed while Thomas slowly catches up to her completely worn out and embarrassed)

On a bright and sunny day on the Island of Sodor, the engines were buzzing with excitement. Rumors spread like wildfire that Thomas the Tank Engine and Rosie the Tank Engine were about to settle a score through a race. For weeks, Thomas had tormented Rosie with his relentless teasing, undermining her skills simply because she was female. But Rosie, with a gleam in her eye, had finally had enough. “Let’s settle this once and for all, Thomas!” Rosie declared. “I challenge you to a race from here to Knapford!” Thomas puffed up with pride at first. “Oh please, Rosie! I’m the fastest engine on this island. You’ll barely keep up!” His smugness emanated from every rivet and bolt. Rosie rolled her eyes, unperturbed. “And if I win, you’ll have to erase that ridiculous number 1 logo of yours and paint it on me instead. You’ll admit that I’m superior and that you were wrong to underestimate me every day. You’ll also confess your feelings for me and call me your girlfriend.” Thomas nearly laughed, his smoke puffing out in amusement. “And what if I win?” “If you win,” Rosie replied coolly, “I’ll let the workmen paint over my pink paintwork with any color you choose.” She smirked. “But that’s not happening.” An hour later, with the whistle of the starting signal ringing in the air, both engines were lined up at the start, hearts racing with competitive spirit. “Ready, set, go!” And with that, they charged off down the track. Immediately, Rosie sped ahead, her wheels clattering with the rhythm of determination. Thomas groaned, “Not so fast, Rosie!” He struggled to keep up, the weight of his previous arrogance pressing down on him. As Rosie glanced back, she couldn’t help but chuckle loudly. “Keep up, Thomas! It’s just a race, after all!” The wind rushed past as they thundered along Sodor’s picturesque countryside. Rosie powered through the hills like a torrent of pink joy, her creaky metal body unyielding and vibrant. Thomas pushed himself harder with every ounce of steam he could muster, trying to catch up. But no matter how much he churned his wheels, Rosie remained steadfast ahead, gracefully navigating sharp turns and narrow bridges. “Be careful not to get lost, Thomas!” Rosie called back, her voice playful yet taunting. It infuriated him. “You really think you can win this?” he shouted back, trying to inject confidence into his tone despite the heavy strain in his engine. They puffed past fields dotted with flowers, with Rosie effortlessly pulling ahead, her magnificent pink hue shining even brighter under the sun's glow. Thomas felt the pressure mounting, each hill becoming a new struggle against her looming lead. He couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment creeping into his boiler as he fell deeper into the comparison between him and Rosie. “Come on, Thomas! What happened to being the fastest engine?” Rosie laughed, her voice echoing like music. Each rhythm reminded him of his previous arrogance, and it stung harder than he expected. With a determination fueled by both rivalry and mortification, Thomas closed his eyes for a moment, imagining himself bearing the burden of defeat. He couldn’t bear to have his number 1 erased, or worse, painted on Rosie’s side! But each time he thought he was gaining ground, Rosie seemed to find a burst of vigor, lifting herself above his frantic, desperate pace. As they approached halfway, Thomas wheezed, his wheels spinning faster, his heart racing—he was getting worn out. Rosie, on the other hand, looked unfazed, like a soaring bird in the spring breeze. “Just a little more!” she called out, a hint of mischief in her tone. Thomas felt a wave of shaky disbelief wash over him. How was this happening? Each jolt with the tracks seemed like a reminder of his hubris, and he became aware of the pride he had wrongly clung to. As they approached Knapford Station, the final stretch lay in sight. Rosie was ahead, glowing with the light of her potential victory. “There’s the finish line, Thomas! What are you waiting for?” she beckoned teasingly. He could see the station where countless engines and workmen fussed about, all oblivious to the stakes of the duel between the two tank engines. With one final push, Thomas felt the raw desperation trying to propel him forward, but it was too late. Rosie crossed the finish line with a triumphant whistle, her exhaust puffing merrily into the air. She spun around graciously, watching as Thomas came plodding in well behind her, exhausted and mortified. Thomas slowed to a stop, staring at Rosie who was bouncing with delight. “I can’t believe it! I actually did it!” Her joy radiated, but it lasted only for a heartbeat before Thomas’s bitter reality set in. “Okay, Thomas,” Rosie said, teasingly tilting her head. “A deal’s a deal. You know what you have to do.” She watched expectantly, a smirk dancing across her face. Thomas stood still, the embarrassment rising in his chest like steam in his boiler. He had underestimated her every single day, and now it came crashing back in waves. With a pained expression, Thomas finally muttered, “I admit you’re superior…” His voice trailed off, barely loud enough for even him to hear. “And?” Rosie prompted, her eyes sparkling. “And I… I was wrong to underestimate you…” He recited through clenched teeth, the words almost tasting bitter on his tongue. “Now the fun part!” she said with glee. Thomas looked away, his own defiance dampened, though Rosie’s laughter echoed in the air. “Alright, Rosy, fine! I also admit that I... ugh... have feelings for you!” he concluded reluctantly. The reaction from Rosie was joyous, her laughter ringing through the air like bells, filling the space between them with unspoken victory as Thomas sulked, silent and beaten. In that moment, it became clear—the race was over, but the implications of the bet would linger in the air, serving as a stark reminder of the day he lost to the pink tank engine, and the one who had bested him.