#[ ɥsnɹɔ ʎpuɐɔ ɹnoʎ 'ɹǝpɐʌuı ǝɔɐds ɹnoʎ ] moonlight roller

[crushng-a]

The Roller is alive. Upstairs, there are couples of all kinds making the most of a a day out before whatever else couples do on Valentine's. Two for the price of one would be an ideal chance that Gin would be a fool to miss out on. But they ARE a guest in the Roller. Besides... they're busy.

Namely, they are lounging on a couch with Wilford in the basement bowling alley. It wasn't due to open for a while yet, so the pair could sit and enjoy milkshakes while being forgotten about the world. Eventually Wilford propped his feet up other table and turned his head to Gin.

"Yer a good kid, an' I'm proud of ya - glittery black-hole-ness an' all. There is a happy endin' out there somewhere fer ya. But until then, I wanna remind ya that here can be where it is fer now. Oh, that reminds me." Rolling to put his weight on his right hip, Wilford began rummaging the back pockets of his trousers until he pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver necklace with a small model of a pair of roller skates dangling off them. It was hard to tell what colour they were, as the hue shifted depending on how the light bounced off them, but the white star mark held firm. "No matter what timeline yer in, no matter where ya end up goin', y'll always have this little bubble ta come back to." (rosetintedgunman)

IT’S LOVE DAY!

the best day of the year! best holiday of all time and space, with the most important annual traditions! (candy & sex! — duh.) oh, and kisses. and teddy bears! and making ridiculous scenes in upscale italian restaurants!

also, candy. so much candy. sweets and sours and sugars and caramels and cakes and cookies! mochis and gummies and boobies and chocolates and taffies and toffees and ice creams! and milkshakes. that’s an important one, because the best milkshakes in all the multiverse come from one of gin’s favorite stops.

AND THE ROLLER IS ALIVE!

(eye candy! eye candy everywhere!) that’s not the point. unfortunately. the point is to see wilford.

wilford the warfstache, who might well be a cupid himself, between the pink hair, the bear hugs, and the penchant for bringing the sweetness out of anyone. or maybe he’s the easter bunny. all those pastels. eh. jury’s out! it’s two timeless time-travelers reveling in time apart, together! and there’s few who gin would rather do it with than wilford. few he respects enough to even consider it. not just anyone has this much power and this much class!

and it’s love day! so he has a bright pink milkshake and as many candy hearts as the bartender could cram on top. he’s been making a game of seeing how many he can stick to his tongue at once, LOL and TXT ME and BABY and I♥️U, before they start falling off or he has to wet his palate.

sometimes wilford’s a sap. happy endings are still endings, after all, and gin’s not nearly done with writing his story! but aside from a disapproving sucking noise on his mouthful of chalky candy, he stays quiet. there’s a gift involved.

cool metal pools in gin’s palm, charm first, followed by a thin chain. the charm, a pair of skates, s h i m m e r s as he turns it back and forth. it’s like an opal, all multicolored and flashing fire. it’s hard to tell what it might be made of. rose gold? that’d be seasonal! or sterling silver, perhaps? (no, sterling’s the chain, not the ball!) (it’s not a ball, it’s a charm! doofus.) (heh. balls.)

gin smiles brightly. “i never doubted it.” he fastens the clasp in the back with a couple of tries, narrowly keeping his milkshake glass tucked between his thighs without incident. the skates rest at the base of his turtleneck, on perfect display between the flaps of his khaki lapels. he toys at the necklace with a finger, staring down at it as its many hues cast rainbows on the seat below.

“it’s, um. it’s funny, you know? everyone else … isn’t always there. they’re all temporary.” it’s more than just mortality that plagues him. the very fabric of existence warps and tears. people change. disappear. get misplaced. he’s too early, there’s no one to miss. or i’m too late. too late. too late. sometimes it’s as if you never existed at all.

(can you see me here, ? or am i out of your reach?)

gin shakes his head — shakes away the dread. “i’m just glad the roller’s easy to find, that’s all.” i’m glad to have you, wilford. i don’t know where i’d be without you.

i hope the necklace stays a while. i like it a lot.

[crushng-a]

gin’s not sure why it never occurred to them that the moonlight roller might have some base in a reality beyond its own. maybe because they’ve always seen the odd little roller rink as a universe to itself. they’ve had bigger ones rolling around as so much pocket lint, and wilford, being wilford, presumably could do the same if he really wanted to.

(he doesn’t want to, is the thing. at least as long as gin’s known him, he hasn’t wanted to. far more gracious a host than gin will ever be.)

“a playground?” the blackhole lights up. a bright smile, eyes beaming, he might be bouncing if he weren’t caught in midair. but then his grin slowly fades. it’s not the roller. it’s not immune to the degradation and destruction that comes with being a paradox.

“i’m really too old for that sort of thing,” he says instead. lousy excuse. he’s not willing to risk losing his favorite spot for a shake on a friday night. sue him.

@crushng: gin vc: there’s an outside?

"There's an outside!" Wilford's grin is wide. "Not everyone can summon people they've absorbed. They're from a town! They got families an' homes! Oh!" Wilford grabs one of Gin's hands in both of his own. "We should go outside one day. I think there's a playground somewhere too!"

[crushng-a]

🎉 party at the moonlight roller // @rosetintedgunman

sims wardrobe aesthetics meme

[crushng-a]

gin chokes on his drink and ducks back into the arcade. (it’s dark, it’s covered!) what the fuck is HE doing here? is gin supposed to say something? avoid him? god, did wilford invite him? they’re gonna throw up. not here, why are you here??

[crushng-a]

"Listen. I need ya ta trust me here. I finished an area of th' Roller, an' I want ya ta see it before I forget. I know it's not gonna be th' same as th' fun ya like ta cause in other places... But maybe it'll give ya some ideas fer th' future. After all, th' look of this place was inspired by you, since I don't think there's anyone who'd encompass it better." At last, Wilford led Gin into the main area of the roller rink and gestured to the right toward the newly opened arcade. Even from a distance, one could see the hint of a starry pattern on the walls. (rosetintedgunman)

gin always trusts wilford. why wouldn’t they trust him? that just smacks of something suspicious!

they pop a sucker out of their mouth — just something to take the edge off since it’s kind of discouraged to go shopping for snacks around here. ideas for the future sound promising. “inspired by me?” he could be considered inspiring, but for the roller?

but when gin steps into the room, he gets it. gorgeous glowing neon space texture paints the ceiling, dotted with a million stars. several arcade cabinets are arranged in two aisles, making the most of the somewhat narrow space. a huge grin stretches from ear to ear — he’s already beelining for a cabinet labeled SPACE INVADERS.

“i’m about to cover your entire high scores page,” they say. were tokens needed? apparently not for gin, anyway, whose quick fingers have skipped past the main menu without trouble, filling the room with cheerful noise. they’ve already got plans to dig into the wiring underneath, but maybe they ought to wait until wilford’s out of view for that one!

(man, when was the last time he’d been in a real arcade?)

[crushng-a]

💋 for Wilf on rosetintedgunman! (I think it'd be too sad to pick Gunther)

gin slings an arm around wilf and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek, grinning wide. there’s very few people he truly feels comfortable around. wilford is one of them.

wilford doesn’t ask where gin’s been or what they’ve done, unless he’s making genuine conversation. so long as they behave themself, they’re always welcome at the roller. they don’t even bother trying to scope it out for snacks — he’s always perfectly distracted by the bright colors, the drinks, the games, the music. they’re just another body on the dance floor.

it’s nice, in a way. gin’s not the cosmic horror here. he’s just a guy who happens to also be a wormhole. it’s why when they come in for the side hug, they brace themself for the big bear hug they know is coming.

(they really don’t deserve this. of course they take it anyway, making off with friendship and affection much better spent somewhere else. wilford knows, and for whatever reason, he doesn’t care. and gin will never look that gift horse in the mouth.)

[crushng-a]

smol tag drop