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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a fic for Onyx/MC involving Onyx's pregnancy cravings?

Brief warnings of past abuse. Implied past miscarriage. SPOILERS FOR ROUTE.

Written by: @evoedbd Craving

It was midday when Onyx emerged from her bedroom, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. The sunlight played across her platinum hair, causing the soft, meadow green streaks to glisten like freshly growing life. Much like the life within her. Just a few months in and Onyx had taken to pregnancy as she took to everything. Gracefully. Beautifully. With the support of her family, the Assassins, Onyx was thus far cruising through the trimester. Sure, morning sickness was an absolute bitch, but with Cali holding her hair back every morning it wasn’t so bad. And not being able to drink copious amounts of alcohol was playing some havoc on her, but Wrath’s baking, Malakai’s uncanny ability to sniff out the best milkshakes, and Darius bringing home endless snacks and magazines from undisclosed locations more than made up for that. Even shopping with Ripley was fun, finding new clothes and materials to replace her dwindling wardrobe. Cal and Avi were horrible influences on her baby collection, both constantly accompanying her to the toy stores and bookshops. Cal had even bought a tiny little guitar, one which Avi was beginning to practice lullabies on. It was enough to melt Onyx’s heart.

She padded across the common area towards the kitchen, barefoot in a pair of shorts, swaddled in a signature Tie-Dyed hoodie. One which was not part of her usual wardrobe. She couldn’t help it. The moment her eyes had cracked open it was like a string between her and the hoodie, a magnet pulling at every sense in her body until she surrendered. She couldn’t feel at ease until the unnaturally soft material was wrapped around her until the scratchiness of worn armpits and elbows chafed at her. Until she was surrounded by that scent. Of bike oils and sand, mixed with an unnamed element that made her heart sing in contentment. It smelt so fucking good, enough that she turned her head in burrow her nose into the hood and sniffed, inhaling as much of that scent into her lungs as she could. A hint of cherry blossom sent her into a moment of sheer bliss. The hoodie was just so good. So perfect. She didn’t even feel guilty about her theft, about leaving the current Envy assassin without a jacket. It wasn’t like Cali actually needed it half the time, she was hot enough, visually and literally if you asked Onyx, as it was.

Before she could make it to the kitchen, a soft sound caught her ear. A breath. Then it played again, stemming from the couches. Onyx couldn’t help but smile, pulling the hoodie just a little tighter around her shoulders before stumbling upon the controlled chaos.

The table was a mess, covered in stacks upon stacks of hand-drawn diagrams and crisply written notes. Writing Onyx could barely understand. It didn’t take a genius to recognise Cali’s flowing concoction of lines which were meant to replicate letters, something that likely would have fit in a med school. Each stack of papers had a name at the top, one for every member of the troupe. It took a few moments before Onyx was able to make out the notes scribbled across the pages, which only made her heart swell with joy. Across them were personalised notes, each a set of instructions regarding pregnancy. Notes to Cal to watch his snark if he wanted to keep his tongue. Demands for Darius to never comment on Onyx’s growing belly under any circumstances if he wanted to remain able to act on his lust, along with a sloppy sketch of some scissors. A gentle reminder that Malakai wasn’t allowed to squish Onyx with hugs, nor take her to packed clubs. Ripley had a whole page explaining that adding honey to everything did not make it suddenly magically healthy.

Quietly, Onyx read them all, her cheeks flushed at the evident care and dedication Cali had put into them. She snickered at notes, warmings such as “Do not squish Onyx, Biceps-sarama.” Or “Do not encourage Onyx to underdress as much as you!”. Eventually, her eyes drifted back to Wraths, specifically to one page marred with blocky letters underlined thrice.

NO PUTTING RAW FISH AND/OR ALCOHOL IN CUPCAKES UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!!!

ALCOHOL + RAW FISH = NOT CUPCAKE FILLINGS

Onyx couldn’t help but laugh, dabbing at her eyes as delighted tears began to fall. Cali’s passive-aggressive notes and demanding were positively endearing, especially knowing how apologetic Cali was likely to be in person about them. Truthfully, the threats were comedic coming from the second shortest assassin. Especially for the vision laid out before Onyx.

There was Cali, sound asleep across the couch, twisted, exposed skin glowing a faint, washed-out brass in the sunlight.

Her bare feet were kicked out over the arm of the couch, a toe or two bent from repeated breaks, heel and balls of her feet callused from the blisters she’d earned riding the canyons. One chipped toenail, from a sparring accident, taunted Onyx’s inner fashionista. Made her itch to buff it out. It was only the blues and purples forming beneath the nail which gave her pause; colours which littered the fine skin across Cali’s shins, up to a spectacularly scuffed up knee. All the little sun worn scars mixed with the fresh graze, a tapestry of her determination. Mental and physical strength, which showed in the relaxed definition of her thighs. Legs which allowed Cali to balance her bike wheels upon the finest wires, let the woman flip with Onyx and play games of chase in the skies. The closest thing to wings a human could have. Twisted as she was, the waistband of her denim shorts rode low, hanging enough to expose the band of her underwear off a sharp hipbone. Low enough for Onyx to have a glimpse of strong core muscles before the simple grey shirt concealed Cali’s ribcage. Bones that could be felt, yet not actively seen. Onyx let her gaze travel slowly, taking in every bump and bruise across Cali’s muscled shoulders. That sent a bolt of pride through the dragon of the Envy Trio. Cali’s muscles had grown since they’d first met, and that growth was directly tied to Onyx’s training. To Cali wanting to stride alongside the small bombshell. Cali had grown stronger to support Onyx. To be there for Onyx. How could Onyx not let herself look? Even if it was for just a few moments? How could she feel anything but pride and admiration for the definition she was the reason for?

She didn’t even realise that she’d been literally purring until her rumbling seemed to wake the sleeping woman. Even before those deep, dark eyes opened, Cali’s lips peeled into a small smile; the meaning of radiance, like a beam of sunlight through the clouds.

“Onyx… you’re purring.” Cali noted softly, as if her sleep husky voice might disturb the quiet. Onyx swallowed. Shuddered. The rasp added to Cali’s usually sweet voice, the weight to the tones, it was unexpectedly appealing. A siren’s song calling Onyx to sleep. A tease. No… not a tease. A promise. An eventuality. An invitation. It was an invitation Onyx couldn’t resist. Cali had barely even moved her arms before they were full of a tie-dyed goddess, shielding her from the harsh world.

Onyx was a dragon, she had learned the depths of her fire in human death, thought she had understood warmth. Yet, Cali once more proved her a fool. The mystery of how Cali’s arms could accomplish a warmth that burning stone could not was beyond all science, magical and mortal. It was beyond reason and madness both. It consumed without destroying, converting fear and shame into courage and pride. It was love, a treasure beyond anything Onyx had comprehended feeling as a human, let alone as a Dragon. A simple hug, delivered in such a sleepy manner had Onyx cooing in bliss, wiggling her smaller frame into the scoop of Cali’s body. A perfect fit. Something written into the heavens, woven on looms of fate, carved by Hephaestus. Something so perfect couldn’t be an accident, no way in any hells could anything convince Onyx that Cali hadn’t been created for her. To protect and love, to offer that in return. Gods, Cali did that so well. This compassionate hurricane of a woman was a shield against the world when Onyx needed shelter. Water when Onyx had dehydrated herself shedding tears for a man who mistreated her. Yet, Cali was not immovable. She cried, she cowered and screamed in fear at times. She was fearless, showing every emotion so plainly, each a little slither of starlight Onyx greedily claimed. Cali, the saviour of Onyx’s soul, was also the greatest treasure to protect. It was befuddling how someone could be strong enough to not only need to protect, but admit they needed protecting.

“Are you hungry?” Cali questioned softly. Onyx simply let a content purr escape her, snuggling deeper into that unique warmth. Honestly, she could eat, but that wasn’t what she needed that very minute. Somehow the combined scent of oil, sweat and cherry blossom was making her entire world creep closer and closer to a standstill. Each blissful inhale had her senses settling, body relaxing in a way nothing could ever accomplish. Not a lovely bath. Not an exhausting night of lust, even with Lust’s friends. A hug. Her world boiled down to a hug… and that playful nudge to her cheek.

“I could probably fry some bacon in chocolate sauce. Maybe add some fried pickles in that Raspberry ice cream you’ve been loving the past few weeks.” This time, Cali’s suggestions earned an actual groan. Whether delight or disgust, even Onyx didn’t know. Her face had screwed up, nostrils flaring as she burrowed her forehead into side of Cali’s neck. Warm. Soothing. Dragging her back towards a land of bliss… disrupted bliss.

Onyx almost whined in frustration, comfort turning overbearing within a blink of an eye. That voice. Cali’s goddamn voice. Onyx couldn’t tell if she wanted to fall asleep to the melody, stay awake to listen as she ate every ungodly concoction her body craved or try to make Cali’s voice break with less wholesome things than snuggling. It was pulling at her, dragging her in a thousand directions until she was more frayed than the hem of Cali’s jean shorts. Loose threads Onyx realised she was twirling her fingers though. Each movement had her fingers brushing across Cali’s rich skin, dancing across the defined grooves of muscle… another realisation. Cali was flexing. No, not just flexing. She was giggling. Laughing. Shoulders shaking beneath Onyx’s torso.

“If you want to be ready to tell the others, I’m not on the menu.” She teased; her voice disappointingly clearer. Sleep had lifted, taking that romanticised rasp. Even without the gravely nature to her voice, Cali’s voice was a Siren’s song. One luring Onyx’s focus from one appetite to another. Touch reminded her of her warmed body, then voice lured her out of the beginnings of lust, back towards practicality.

“We could order Sushi.” Onyx finally suggested, cursing how her cheeks flared at the twitch of Cali’s lips. Indulgent. Admiring. Again, Onyx sighed blissfully, letting herself sink back into the welcomed embrace. Her fingers wove through Cali’s, thumb skimming the ring Cali proudly wore. The layers of twisted metal.

“The chocolate sauce is in the fridge. Or I could melt some dark chocolate.” Cali’s offer was so genuine, so utterly casual Onyx almost forgot how disgusting fish and chocolate was to anybody who wasn’t pregnant or deranged. When Onyx paused to think on it, she was sure even the most dangerous of lunatics would flee the usually vile combination. Not Cali. Every single time, Cali braved it. With a bright smile, she’d bathe her shrimp or raw fish in chocolate sauce right alongside Onyx. When the stares became too much, there was Cali, loudly proclaiming her love for the combination. Making such a spectacle of herself that Onyx’s weird cravings were forgotten.

Cali was so different to Dorran. Cali was there, eating every lunatic concoction fearlessly, ensuring it wasn’t lethal. Even going as far as to make the other trope members taste test everything before allowing Onyx to eat it. Where Dorran had tried to drown it out, Cali drowned in Onyx’s pregnancy. She made Onyx the centre of her world, of her galaxy even. Everything had Cali’s support, her enthusiasm. Even the rare arguments when Onyx felt a little too babied, which never lasted long when she heard the genuine fear in Cali’s voice. The agony held within two little words. One single line.

You died.

In that line, Onyx saw how broken Cali could become. Just how deeply their bond ran in their veins. That. Perhaps it was that intimacy Onyx craved the most. Cali, no matter how, was the only constant Onyx clung to. From her scent, to her warmth, to her voice. Her touch. Onyx never realised that cravings could be more than food, could be so consuming and subtle. Contradicting and complimentary. For so long, validation had been her desire. For somebody, anybody, to care for her as if she was worthy of it. When she’d kissed that girl in the Casino to distract a crowd, she’d never believed her deepest cravings would be sated. Yet here she was. Here they were. Just beginning to learn the true meaning of craving.

#Anonymous #lovestruck #lovestruck swm #lovestruck sin with me #sin with me #sin with me onyx #sin with me envy #onyx wren #onyx x mc #fluff #fluffy #tw: past abuse #tw: past miscarriage #sfw #scatterday

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adastraperfortuna · 3 years ago

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I Played Cyberpunk 2077

Ultimately, Cyberpunk 2077 is an excellent video game. It’s hard to talk about it without acknowledging the backlash that it received around its launch, but the backlash was directly proportional to the amount of marketing that it got. This happens to a lot of games – and frankly, a lot of my favorite games. If I were working at CD Projekt RED and I was responsible for the kind of marketing that resulted in the kind of expectations that they built for themselves, I’d have to take that sort of stuff into deep consideration. But, as someone who bought the game, enjoyed the game, and desperately wants to talk about the game, I’m not sure that it matters. So, to reiterate: Cyberpunk 2077 is good.

There’s so much game to Cyberpunk that it might be easier to start by talking about my favorite part of it that isn’t a game: the photo mode. I’ve joked before about my favorite gameplay loop in Star Citizen being “taking screenshots,” and that’s not my intent here, but some of my favorite games in recent memory have made it easy to look over the memories I made during their runtime. Interspersed within this review will be some of my favorite screenshots that I took – the inclusion of precise controls for things like depth of field, character posing/positioning, and stickers/frames helped to make my screenshot folder feel less like a collection of moments in a game and more like a scrapbook made during the wildest possible trip to the wildest possible city.

And what a city it is. Night City is my favorite setting in a video game in recent memory. It’s not incredibly difficult to make a large environment, but to make a meaningful environment where every location feels lived-in and the streets are dense with things to see and do? That’s a challenge that very few studios have managed to step up to. More than that, Night City feels unique in the landscape of video game cities – whereas a city like Grand Theft Auto V’s Los Santos is rooted in a reality we’re familiar with, Cyberpunk’s retro-futuristic architecture (and overall aesthetic) help lend it a sensibility that we’re unfamiliar with. It really feels like stepping into another world - fully fleshed-out, fully envisioned.

The environment is obviously beautiful and unique, but I was surprised by just how ornate it was. The thought and consideration that went into details as minor as the UIs you’ll encounter in and on everything from car dashboards to PCs and menus both diegetic and otherwise helps the entire world feel diverse, detailed, and cohesive. While everything feels of a kind and everything is working towards the same design goals, the sheer amount of variety was shocking.

The biggest thing that stuck out to me about Night City itself within just a few hours of playing was how vertically oriented it was. Not just in the “there are tall buildings” sense, though there certainly are tall buildings – I’m talking about the way that Cyberpunk uses verticality to tell stories. The first time that you end up high enough above the skyline to see rooftops will inevitably be during one of your first encounters with Night City’s elite. The hustle and bustle of street life fading away as an elevator climbs up the side of a building and you emerge into a world you aren’t familiar with was astounding. That claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded by monoliths isn’t only alleviated by attending to the rich, though – for similar reasons, my first journey out of the city limits and into the “badlands” will stick with me. Cyberpunk successfully manages its mood and tone by controlling the kind of environments you’ll find yourself in, and while that may seem like a simple, sensible, universal design decision, its consistent application helped ground the world for me in a way that made it feel more real than most of its contemporaries.

Something else that makes Night City feel real is how Cyberpunk implements its setpieces. In a decision that reverberates throughout the rest of the game, CD Projekt was clearly all-in on the notion of immersion and seamless transitions. While it was consistently surprising and exciting to find bombastic moments embedded in the world’s side content (one standout involves Night City’s equivalent of SWAT descending from the sky to stop a robbery in an otherwise non-descript shop downtown), it never took me out of the world. And, on the other end of the experience, the number of memorable, exciting story moments that were located in parts of the city that you had wandered by before helped make the world feel almost fractal, this idea that every building and every corner could house new adventures or heartbreaks.

One thing that did take me out of the experience, unfortunately, were a few of the celebrity (or “celebrity”) cameos. While I think that the core cast was well-cast, with Keanu Reeves as Johnny Silverhand in particular being an inspired choice, the game, unfortunately, wasn’t immune to the tendency to include recognizable faces just because they were recognizable. Grimes plays a role in a forgettable side quest that felt dangerously like it only existed because she wanted to be in the game. There are also an almost concerning number of streamer cameos (“over 50 influencer and streamers from around the world,” according to CD Projekt), and while most of them completely went by me, the few that did hit for me only served to disrupt the world. The only perceived positive here is that most players won’t have any idea who these people are.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that broke immersion in the game. Due to what I can only assume are particularly harsh memory restrictions imposed by the game’s release on last-generation hardware, the game has some of the most aggressive NPC culling that I’ve ever seen. While NPCs don’t strictly only exist in screen space, it often feels like they do, as simply spinning the camera around can result in an entirely new crowd existing in place of the old one. This is obviously rough when it comes to maintaining immersion in crowded spaces on-foot, but it gets worse when you’re driving. Driving on an empty road, rotating the camera, and finding that three seconds later there was an entire legion of cars waiting for your camera to discover them, far too close to slow down, was always a deadly surprise. It doesn’t help that your cars take a while to slow down.

Cyberpunk’s approach towards cars in general is interesting. While I certainly had trouble with them when I began playing, I eventually began to get into their groove. If you want to learn how to drive effectively in Cyberpunk, you have to learn how to drift. After the game’s latest substantial patch, the team at CD Projekt finally fixed my largest problem with the game’s driving – the minimap was simply too zoomed-in, making it difficult to begin to make the right decisions on when and how to turn when traveling at speed. Now that that's resolved, however, whipping and spinning through the streets is fun, and the cars feel appropriately weighty. I’ll still occasionally boot up the game just to cruise around its streets and listen to the radio.

Speaking of the radio, did I mention that Cyberpunk 2077 has one of the greatest game soundtracks that I’ve ever heard? The radio is filled with great original songs from some pretty great musicians, but that’s not where the soundtrack’s beauty starts and it certainly isn’t where it ends. The original soundtrack (composed by P.T. Adamczyk, Marcin Przybylowicz, and Paul Leonard-Morgan) was consistently beautiful, moving, and intense. The world feels gritty and grimy but ultimately beautiful and worth saving, and a great deal of that emotion comes from the soundtrack. While the heavy use of industrial synths could’ve lent itself towards music that existed to set tone instead of form lasting memories with memorable melodies, the sparkling backing tones and inspired instrumentation helped keep me humming some of its tracks for months after last hearing them in-game. I’m no musical critic, I don’t know how much I can say about this soundtrack, so I’ll just reiterate: it’s genuinely incredible.

It certainly helps that the encounters that so many of those tunes are backing up are exciting as well. I was expecting middling combat from the company that brought us The Witcher 3, and while the experience wasn’t perfect, it was competitive with (and, in many ways, better than) the closest games to it than I can point to, Eidos Montreal’s recent Deus Ex titles. Gunplay feels tight, shotguns feel explosive, and encounter spaces are diverse and full of alternate paths and interesting cover. My first playthrough was spent primarily as a stealth-focused gunslinger, using my silenced pistol to cover up the mistakes that my feet made when trying to avoid getting caught. Trying to sneak into, around, and through environments helped emphasize how complex the environments actually were. While it’d be easy to run into a wealth of the game’s content with your guns loaded and ready to fire, that may contribute to a perceived lack of depth in the game’s world design. I’m trying to write this without considering what other people have said about the game, but this particular point has been something of a sticking point for me – there are individual, completely optional buildings in Cyberpunk that have more interesting, considered level design than some entire video games, and the experience of evaluating and utilizing them was consistently mechanically engaging and exciting.

The sheer number of abilities that the player has can be almost overwhelming. While leveling does encourage the player to specialize into certain traits, especially when said traits can also serve as skill checks for the dialogue system and some traversal opportunities, every trait houses a bundle of skills that each house a sprawling leveling tree. Far from the kind of “three-path EXP dump” that you’ll find in a great number of AAA titles, Cyberpunk’s leveling experience can be legitimately intimidating. It’s difficult to plan the kind of character you want to play as when you’re trying to project eighty or a hundred hours forward for a character that will be constantly encountering new kinds of challenges. I certainly didn’t begin my playthrough by wanting to be a stealth-focused gunslinger – in fact, I was originally aiming for a melee-focused hacker build. While I was drawn to what I was drawn to, hearing stories from other players about the kind of builds that they ultimately considered to be overpowered made one thing exceedingly clear: Cyberpunk is a game that rewards every kind of play, possibly to its own detriment.

Cyberpunk’s main story is notably short. I wouldn’t consider this to be a problem, considering the sheer amount of engaging, exciting, heartfelt side content, but it might be the core of the difficulty scaling plateauing so early on. As you progress deeper into the game you’ll find that almost every build, as long as you are willing to commit to something, is more than viable. Look around long enough and you’ll find people saying that every single build is overpowered. For me, that fed into the central power fantasy in an exciting way. By the time that I rolled credits a hundred hours in I was more or less unstoppable, walking into rooms and popping every enemy almost instantly. For others, this was a problem – it can be frustrating to feel like all of your work to become stronger wasn’t met with an appropriate challenge when the time came to put it into practice. This is a difficult problem to solve, and I don’t have a solution. I’ll fondly remember my revolver-toting, enemy-obliterating V, though, so I can’t complain.

Regardless of the scaling, however, the content you play through to arrive at that pinnacle of power was consistently, surprisingly robust. While the differentiation between “gigs” and “side quests” is confusing (word for the wise: gigs are generally shorter and more gameplay-centric missions that are designed by CD Projekt’s “open world” team while the side quests are made by the same team that made the main quests and are generally longer and more narrative-centric), both kinds of side content are lovingly crafted and meaningful. Of the 86 gigs in the game, every single one of them takes place in a unique location with a hand-crafted backstory and (almost always) a wealth of different approaches. These don’t exist separately from the rest of the game’s design philosophy, even if they are made by a separate team, and you’ll often find that decisions made outside of gigs will reverberate into them (and, sometimes, the other way around). I’ve played a great deal of open world games, and never before has the “icon-clearing content” felt this lovingly-crafted and interesting. While the main quests will take you traveling across the map, the side content is what really makes it feel dense and real. You’ll be constantly meeting different kinds of people who are facing different kinds of problems – and, hey, occasionally you’ll be meeting someone who has no problem at all, someone who just wants to make your world a little bit brighter.

It’s surprising, then, that one of the most obvious ways to integrate that kind of content in Cyberpunk is so sparsely-utilized. “Braindances,” sensory playback devices used to replicate experiences as disparate as sex, meditation, and murder, play a critical role in some of the game’s larger quests, but they almost never show up in the side content. You would imagine that the ability to freely transport the player into any kind of situation in a lore-friendly way would’ve been a goldmine for side content, but its use is limited. This isn’t even a complaint, really, I’m just genuinely surprised – I wouldn’t be surprised if they used them more heavily in 2077’s expansions or sequels, because they feel like an untapped goldmine.

Another thing that the game surprisingly lacks is the inclusion of more granular subtitle options. While the game does let you choose the important stuff – whether or not you want CD Projekt’s trademark over-the-head subtitles for random NPCs, what language you want the subtitles to be in, what language you want the audio to be in – it doesn’t include something that I’ve grown to consider a standard: the ability to turn on subtitles for foreign languages only. As the kind of player who avoids subtitles when possible, I went through most of Cyberpunk with them off. Unfortunately, a tremendous number of important cutscenes in the game take place in languages other than English, and I didn’t know that I was supposed to understand what these characters were saying until I was embarrassingly far into one of the prologue’s most important scenes.

NOTE: I was pleasantly surprised to discover after replaying the ending of the game earlier today that they've fixed this issue in a patch. Nice!

I can only complain about the game’s language support so much, because there’s something important that lies between the player and the story they’re there to experience: a fucking incredible English localization. Ironically, it’s so good that I can’t help but imagine that most players won’t even think about it. It’s easy to notice and talk about an excellent localization when it’s from something like a JRPG, something with a clearly different style from what you’d expect from a work made in English, but never once in my entire playthrough did I even briefly consider the idea that it was natively written in anything other than English. I knew that CD Projekt was a Polish studio, but I just assumed that they wrote in English and localized it backwards. The language is constantly bright and surprising, the jokes land, the characters have memorable quirks, everything feels natural, and the voice acting is legitimately some of the best that I’ve ever heard in a video game. Both versions of the main character’s voice were damn-near instantly iconic for me, landing up there with Commander Shepard in the upper echelon of protagonist VO. I can’t praise it enough.

That said, even if the localization was incredible, it’d be hard to appreciate if the meat of the story wasn’t up-to-snuff. I was ecstatic to discover, then, that Cyberpunk 2077 has an incredible story. Every great story starts with a great cast of characters, and Cyberpunk hit it out of the park with that. The core cast of side characters are some of my favorite characters in years. Judy, Panam, River, and Kerry are all memorable, full, charming people. Kerry Eurodyne in particular is responsible for my favorite scene in a game since the finale of Final Fantasy XV. The quest “Boat Drinks,” the finale of Kerry’s quest line, is quietly emotional and intensely beautiful. He, and the other characters like him, are more than the setting they’re in, and the way that the game slowly chews away at the harsh and bitter exterior that the world has given them as it reaches to their emotional, empathetic core consistently astounds. Night City is a city full of noise, violence, destruction, and decay, but you don’t have to participate in it. You don’t have to make it worse. You can be different, and you can be better. You don’t get there alone, you can’t get there alone, and Cyberpunk is a game that revels in how beautiful the world can be if we are willing to find the light and excitement in the people around us.

Of course, Cyberpunk is a video game, it’s an RPG, and the story is more than a linear progression of memorable moments. Something that struck me while making my way through Cyberpunk’s story was how expertly and tastefully it implemented choice. I’m used to games that give you flashing notifications and blaring alarms whenever you're able to make a decision that matters, so I was initially confused by how Cyberpunk didn’t seem reactive to the things I said and did. The game would give me a few options in conversations, I’d select one of them, and then the story would progress naturally. However, as I continued, I began to notice small things. One character would remember me here, a specific thing I said twenty hours before would be brought up by someone there, an action that I didn’t even know I had the choice to not take was rewarded. The game slowly but surely established a credibility to its choices, a weight to your words, this sense that everything that you were saying, even beyond the tense setpiece moments that you’d expect to matter, would matter. It was only after going online after completing the game that I realized just how different my playthrough could’ve been. While nothing ever reached the level of the kind of divergent choices that The Witcher 2 allowed, there were still large chunks of the game that are entirely missable. Three of the game’s endings can only be unlocked through the completion of (and, in one case, specific actions in) specific quests, and multiple memorable quests were similarly locked behind considerate play. This isn’t really a game that will stop you from doing one thing because you chose to do something else, most of the choice-recognition is simply unlocking new options for the player to take, but it always feels natural and never feels like a game providing you an arbitrary fork in the road just for the sake of making it feel artificially replayable. CD Projekt has already said that they made the choices too subtle in Cyberpunk, but I deeply appreciate the game as it is now – more games should make choices feel more real.

It helps that the dialogue system backing up some of those choices is dynamic and the cutscene direction backing those scenes up is consistently thrilling. The decision to lock you in first-person for the entire game was an inspired one, and it resulted in a bevy of memorable scenes made possible by those interlocking systems. There are the obvious ones – being locked in a smoky car with a skeptical fixer, getting held at gunpoint by a mechanical gangster with his red eyes inches away from your own and a pistol’s barrel just barely visible as it presses against your forehead, having to choose between firing your weapon and talking down someone with a hostage when in a tense, escalating situation. There are also a million smaller ones, situations where the scale of the world becomes part of the magic. The first time that I sat down in a diner and talked with someone I had to meet or the first time that I rode along through the bustling downtown of Night City as a politician sized me up will stick with me because the perspective of the camera and the pacing of the real-time dialogue interface combine to make almost everything more powerful. There’s so much effort put into it – so many custom animations, so many small touches that you’d only see if you were staring intensely at every frame. All of that effort paid off, and the controversial decision to strip third-person out of the game was ultimately proven to be one of the smartest decisions that CD Projekt has ever made.

Another decision that helped power an exciting, engaging story was how the game freely manipulates the time and weather during key story moments. It’s a small touch, it’s one that you won’t notice unless you’re looking for it, but every once in a while you’ll walk into a place during a crystal-clear day and come out five minutes later to discover that it’s a cold, windy, rainy night and you have a city to burn. Along with the first-person limitation, this initially feels like something that could only harm immersion, but when it’s backed up by a story that motivating and scenes that thrilling you’d be hard-pressed to notice it outside of the flashes of telling yourself that this scene or that scene is the best that you’ve played in a long time. This also helps avoid a problem that games like the Grand Theft Auto series consistently face – instead of letting scenes happen at any time, compromising direction, or doing something like a timelapse, sacrificing immersion, Cyberpunk manages to always keep you in the action while also presenting the action in its most beautiful and appropriate form. There are moments where it truly feels like it’s meshing the kind of scene direction that’d be at home in a Naughty Dog game, the gameplay of Deus Ex, and the storytelling of the WRPG greats, and in those moments there is nothing else on the market that feels quite like it.

I sure have talked a lot about this game’s story, considering the fact that I have barely brought up its central hook. The early twist (unfortunately spoiled by the game’s marketing), the placement of a rockstar-turned-terrorist-turned-AI-construct firmly in your brain after a heist goes wrong and your best friend dies, helps establish a tone that the rest of the game commits to. Johnny Silverhand starts as an annoying, self-centered asshole with no real appreciation for how dire your situation is, but by the end of the game he had more than won me over. Reeves’s performance was really stellar, and the relationship between him and V is incredibly well-written. More than that, his introduction helps spur on a shift in the way that you engage with the world. The first act is full of hope, aspiration, the belief that you can get to the top if you hustle hard enough and believe. After you hold your dying friend in your arms and are forced to look your own death in the eyes, though, things begin to turn. Maybe the world is fucked up, maybe it’s fucked up beyond belief. But there Johnny is, telling you to fight. Why? Every time you fight, things get worse.

But the game continues to ruminate on this, it continues to put you in situations where fighting not only fails to fix the problem, but it makes it worse. Despite that, it’s positive. For me, at least, Cyberpunk’s worldview slowly came into alignment, and it’s one that I can’t help but love. Cyberpunk 2077 is a game about how important the fight is, how important believing in something is, even if you’re facing impossible odds, even if there’s no happy ending. It’s a story that posits that giving up is the worst ending of all, that your only responsibility is to what’s right and to the ideals that you and the people you love want to live up to. The game uses every story it can tell, every character it can introduce you to, and every encounter it can spin into a narrative to drive that home. And, when the ending comes, it was phenomenal. All of the endings were powerful, effective, and meaningful to me, but I’m more than happy that I went with what I did.

Cyberpunk 2077 is an excellent video game. It’s not flawless, but no game is, and at its core it's one of the most fun, beautiful, narratively engaging, and heart-filled games that I’ve ever played. I couldn’t recommend it highly enough, and I sincerely hope that everyone who has skipped out on it because of what they’ve heard is able to give it a shot someday. Maybe they’ll love it as much as I do. Wouldn’t that be something?

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kopikokun · 5 years ago

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Middle of The Night (Na Jaemin)

Request 11: Jaemin + “You’re cute when you’re angry.” (47) + “Are you flirting with me?” (56) + “What are you listening to?” (127) + Middle of The Night by Monsta X

Genre: Angst, Suggestive

Wordcount: 2k

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

Time and time again, Jaemin had repeated that single word in his mind like a mantra, hoping that it would somehow convince him to stop himself from succumbing; perhaps heighten his low self-restraint. Obviously, it had never worked. And it wasn’t going to any time soon, especially not now.

So, he picked up his phone.

And he immediately regretted it after hearing that voice. That melodious voice call out his name, like it had done on so many other occasions, and yet he still felt his stomach turn each and every time.

“Jaemin, can you pick me up at this party? I’ll send you the address.”

What had he been expecting? For you to greet him kindly? Tell him you were secretly in love with him? Tell him that you weren’t going to use him for just sex anymore? That wouldn’t happen even in his wildest fantasies, what more in this cold, brutal reality? You only called Jaemin when you needed something out of him. It was usually sex, but tonight it was a ride.

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

His brain persisted. Jaemin knew all-too-well that giving you a ride home would only hurt him again. He had to distance himself from you, create a boundary you could never cross for the sake of keeping the remaining shards of his fragile heart intact. Even hearing your voice made his throat constrict; how could he possibly look you in the eye and endure an entire car ride with you? He’d only be torturously teasing himself with the concept of dating you – something he could never possess – if he agreed to send you home.

“Don’t you have any friends who can drive you home? Or maybe you could hail a cab?” Jaemin tried his hardest to keep his voice calm, steady, as if his heart wasn’t beating out of his ribcage. Unfortunately, it shook slightly.

“I did hail a cab, but this guy keeps insisting on accompanying me back because he wants to get in my pants . . . so I kind of need you to swoop in and scare him off.”

Jaemin had no right to feel enraged – you were a pretty girl, obviously guys would be racing to fall into bed with you – but he did. Something despicable came to life in his gut, clawing, tearing down his already weak defences. He could do it. It was only a car ride. He could resist your tantalising charm for half-an-hour.

“Fine. I’m on my way.”

***

Fuck, why’d you always have to look so fucking irresistible?

Even with your hair haphazardly blowing in the breeze and your cheeks flushed, Jaemin just wanted to wrap his arms around you and keep you pressed against his chest forever.

He forced himself to shift his attention back to the dimly-lit road when you swung the car door open and effortlessly slipped inside.

“Hey Jaemin, thanks for picking me up. I owe you.”

Jaemin didn’t know what compelled him to look at you, he should’ve kept his eyes tacked to the road because what greeted his gaze was nothing short of ethereal.

It was your smile.

The corners of your eyes crinkled, your lips quirked and your face lit up with pure joy. Jaemin couldn’t even begin to articulate how your smile made him feel. It made his head spin, his eyes unconsciously crinkle, and soon enough, he mirrored your expression. All hopes of keeping his tough resolve was washed away by the tsunami that was you.

You exhaled, picking at your bottom lip. Jaemin knew you didn’t like silence, neither did he – that was partially why you two clicked so well. It was never silent when the two of you were together. One of you always had something to say. But this time, Jaemin kept his lips sewn shut.

“What are you listening to?” You gestured to Jaemin’s earphones in an attempt to liven up the atmosphere as his car cruised past streetlights and houses. “Can I listen?”

Before Jaemin could answer, you plucked one side out of his ear. Jaemin was helpless as he watched your grin grow and grow at his choice of song.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, a warm glow dusting his cheeks.

“What? I didn’t even say anything!”

“You’re going to make fun of me, I can tell.”

You laughed, your hand resting on his thigh. He knew you didn’t think much of it – if anything at all – but Jaemin’s heart rate was accelerating. “No, I’m not! It’s a good song! I just didn’t think you’d listen to songs like this. It’s super romantic.”

Jaemin’s face grew hot. “Whatever.”

“No, no! I like it. It’s really nice.” You took his earphones out, handing them back to him. Jaemin took the remaining side out as well. He couldn’t stop himself from yearning to hear your sweet voice, devoid of any distractions. “And has anyone told you that you’re cute when you’re angry?”

You always did this. Always said things to make him feel so giddy. You made him ditzy with joy after only calling him cute. He couldn’t contain himself around you. You brought down all those walls he struggled to keep standing with the smallest of gestures.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe . . .” you trailed off. The hand on his thigh kept creeping upwards. You were a tease. Always. Even that first night you stumbled into him in the hallways of that dingy motel, you had teased him. Even in bed you teased him. And now you were teasing him with the idea of you. Of being with you. Jaemin couldn’t help his mind wandering to thoughts of having dinner with you, having lame dates at home, laying on the couch and watching bad movies together; he wanted all those things. But he’d never have them. “Yes.”

Jaemin cleared his throat. Normally, a bold statement like that would solicit a flirtatious remark out of him. He had to bite back his words. He couldn’t have any banter with you. Not now. If he did, he’d fall so deep he’d never crawl out again. That had nearly happened last time he saw you.

You had dialled him at God knows what time and coaxed him to come over. Jaemin had gotten a taste of sharing a domestic life with you that day. Instead of being shoved out the door first thing in the morning like he usually was to avoid coming into contact with your roommates, he awoke to the smell of pancakes and the sight of you humming away at the stove. Your friends had left at the crack of dawn and Jaemin had found that he could barely suppress his glee. He had given you a back-hug as you cooked, burying his face in the crook of your neck to litter your shoulder with kisses. It had been one of the best days of his life, and simultaneously the worst. Going back home had been dreadful. His apartment was cold, grey – lonely.

You seemed to be expecting some sort of reply out of him, yet it never came. You sunk in your seat. The rest of the car ride was spent in tense quietude. For the first time since he had met you, you were as still as a statue. No bouncing your leg, twiddling your thumbs; Jaemin despised it, but he didn’t say a word.

As he neared your house, you finally broke the silence. “Wait, wait stop here.”

Jaemin’s car was a few houses down from yours, just below a streetlight. If casted a glow onto the hood of the car. He hesitantly peeked at you. “Why?”

“I can walk back from here.” You smiled sheepishly, shifting in your seat to unlock the passenger’s side. “Um, well thanks, Jaemin.”

If Jaemin had given it a second thought, he could’ve stopped himself. Too bad he was impulsive. His grip on your wrist was tight. “You can’t walk back alone. It’s dangerous. I’ll drive you there, it isn’t that far anyway.”

“No, no . . . it’s fine. I can walk back, Jaemin.”

“Why?” His hold of you loosened, but his gaze steeled.

“Huh?”

“Why do you insist on walking back alone? Why are you so scared your roommates might see me?”

“Jaemin—”

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that it? Am I not good enough to be seen around you?”

“No, God no.” You caressed his cheek, and although Jaemin was telling himself that he was pissed at you, he leaned into your touch. “Of course, I’m not ashamed of you. You’re wonderful.”

There you went again. Saying things you didn’t really mean. He knew that you weren’t sincere, yet his heart still pounded in his ears. He knew that, yet he still leaned in to kiss you. He knew that, yet he still lowered his seat to allow you room to straddle his lap.

You tasted like the strawberry candies you had stashed in your bag. You smelled like the vanilla mist he saw on your dresser. You felt like silk beneath his touch. Jaemin was buzzing. He knew he should stop, but he didn’t. And perhaps that added to the thrill. His hands ran up and down your waist, his mouth hungrily latched onto yours. He couldn’t get enough of you. He groaned as you tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you as your lips travelled down to his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, nipping and teasing. You were a tease. Always a tease.

Jaemin’s mind was clouded with you, you and only you.

“You’re amazing. I missed you so damn much. Everything about you. Fuck,” Jaemin sighed shakily, “fuck, I love you.”

Jaemin’s blood ran cold when you paused. He gulped as you stared at him, eyes wide.

“Jaemin, I—”

He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have just left it. But he didn’t. “I know this was supposed to be some friends with benefits kind of shit, but I can’t, fuck, I can’t go on like this. I can’t lie to you.” He doesn’t know what impels him to continue, but he does. “God, I love you. So much. I'm going out my mind for you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ll stay with you for the rest of my life if you want because I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

Jaemin wished he could read minds. Your gaze hazed with something indiscernible. “Jaemin.” The tone of your voice shattered him. “I – I can’t. I don’t like you like that, and I’m sorry. Fuck, you’re a great guy and I love being with you, but I don’t—”

“It’s fine.” Jaemin smiled softly. The situation is made worse with you still sat on his lap.

“Jaemin—”

“No, really it’s fine.” He willed himself to smile wider. “Just let me drive you home. Properly.”

You nodded, rigidly manoeuvring back to your seat.

As you stepped out of the car and shuffled to the front door, Jaemin watched you. Just as you were about to enter, you turned and waved, smiling softly. Jaemin wished you hadn’t. Because it only makes leaving so much harder.

Jaemin regrets telling you he loves you. If he hadn’t, then maybe at least he’d still get to see you laying fast asleep next to him at night, even if it meant nothing to you. But most of all, Jaemin regrets ever meeting you. He regrets tagging along on that stupid road trip with Jeno, Hyuck and Renjun. He regrets ever driving into Motel Six’s parking lot. He regrets ever colliding into you in the hallways. He regrets ever agreeing to spend that first night with you. Or the second. Or the third. Or the ones after. He regrets all the hours he spent loving you.

And when he comes home that night, the only thing that greets him is the cold, grey, lonesome walls of his apartment.

want to request? go here!

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d6official · 5 years ago

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DAY6: ‘We’ve Always Wanted to Go to India’

The South Korean rock band open about their songwriting process, their aspirations for future records, the definition of authenticity in a world that often dismisses artistry in K-pop and India

I caught up with DAY6 a few months ago via Skype–I’m told the quintet are in the middle of shooting new content for their fans and are dressed in their looks for a video, so it has to be an audio call. I can’t see them and they can’t see me, so of course there’s a lot of giggling, whispering, and moments of ominous silence that then have us all breaking into laughter together. It’s awkward, hilarious and everything you’d imagine a call with DAY6 to be.

It’s towards the end of the year so there’s a lot going on in the band’s schedule, but they’re an unstoppable force, flying across the globe to complete performances in the U.S. and in Australia. It’s a pretty rare thing to have all five members be able to join in on a single call, so I’m happy to hear all their voices greet me. “We’ve just been on tour and we’re having a good tour so far,” says vocalist and guitarist Jae. “Everyone’s been really welcoming in their countries and really just turning up for us, so we’re happy.”

DAY6 debuted in September 2015 with leader and guitarist Sungjin, bassist Young K, guitarist Jae, keyboardist Wonpil and drummer Dowoon. All members are trained vocalists, with Young K also doubling as main rapper, and every member contributes to songwriting and production. (The group did have a sixth member, a keyboardist named Junhyeok, but he left in 2016.) Young K also leads the songwriting process, with lyrical contribution in every single track on most of DAY6’s albums.

The beauty of DAY6’s artistry lies in how versatile they are able to make each track within a single album–in one moment you’re listening to a stadium anthem that’s reminiscent of a young U2, and in the next there’s a segue into Killers-esque post-punk revival. If you’ve been a long-time fan, you probably already know this thanks to their genius ‘Every DAY6’ project through 2017, which saw the band release two songs on the sixth day of almost every month. The result? An expansive, experimentative discography which built two powerful albums– Sunrise and Moonrise–with B-sides that shine just as much as a lead single. Jae explains that there usually isn’t a set idea when they begin an album–a lot of the music is born through songwriting sessions with various producers, where each member gets to go explore any genre they want on their own. It’s a power they’re exercising more and more, especially all through the Book of Us series. “We didn’t really discuss a direction when we started,” Jae says. “Everyone just kind of did what we wanted, which is why the album is a jumble of this and that from everywhere.” In fact songs have a tendency to switch genres in between verses–a great example of this is DAY6’s 2017 single “I Wait.”

The group also credit the genius of JYP Entertainment producer Hong Jisang as a key factor in their creative process. “I think definitely one of our main influences is probably gonna be one of our main producers and that’s Hong Jisang,” says Jae when I ask the band about their musical influences. “He’s a writer that works with us very frequently. For most of our title tracks–actually all of them I think so far. But yeah, he’s definitely one of the main influences because he’s always been kind of our mentor since the beginning of our debut dates… even before that. So he’s been teaching us about songwriting, you know, tracking or melody writing. We have a little bit of a flow just because we’ve grown so close to him as a group.”

“Just one of the reasons why we try any kind of genre or any music is because people do have different tastes in music,” explains Young K. “So if they like at least one of them, then it’s a success for us. Another reason is because we do get to play almost all of them, almost all [their songs] at the concert. So, we do have a chance to show it to the MyDays and the crowd and you get a chance to have fun with it. And I guess it’s just what we aim for as a group.” They’ve stood strong and stuck to their guns when it comes to this process of songwriting and it’s the fuel that expands their creative process, ensuring they don’t stick to one particular sound or vibe.

I remember back in 2016 when DAY6 began to get more popular, a lot of the attention around them was built of curiosity. As the first band under JYP Entertainment and the one of the first in the third generation of K-pop, both fans and industry professionals were curious to see where the Hallyu Wave would take them. The idea of an ‘idol rock band’ was new to the thousands of fans who had discovered K-pop after the 2016 boom of the genre, and DAY6 didn’t fit any existing stereotype–idol or band. They still don’t, and it’s a powerful statement.

This particular artistic evolution that we’ve seen with DAY6 isn’t easy to achieve in the K-pop idol-sphere of it all; our discussion about artistry in the glittering world of idol culture brings us to the topic of what it’s like to exist as what people believe to be a ‘traditional’ band in the middle of the ‘boy band narrative.’ I ask because it’s something I see often even in India–there’s this idea of authenticity always being tied to the more ‘conventional’ format of a band: artists with their instruments are deemed more ‘legit’ than pop acts. There is an unfortunate tendency among the general public to dismiss artistry created by pop stars and K-pop idols. DAY6 walk the line between the two worlds, and their path to finding that balance often demands a seesaw from one side to another. Have they ever faced a dismissal of their artistry because they’re idols who are also a band?

“That’s a very deep question,” says Sungjin. There’s a long pause as he gathers his words and then continues, “I personally haven’t seen that big of a difference. We, as a team that emphasizes on writing songs and writing music to appeal to other people, feel that everyone who writes songs or does music has the same objective and goal, therefore [artistry] is the same thing [for every musician.] So we’re not trying to focus on those kinds of factors but just try to focus instead on our music and our creation process so that we could become more authentic artists that appeal to more people.”

And what is DAY6’s definition of authenticity?

“When the person who’s creating the music legitimately feels like it’s good music,” says Sungjin firmly.

Right now the authenticity in their songwriting comes from the ordinary. Lead lyricist Young K explains the members draw from everyday experiences and conversations to write songs that are relatable, raw and honest. “Lyrics wise, I could say, we got very cleaned up and very neat. During the times of Every DAY6 project, we were out of time all the time throughout the year,” he says with a laugh. “So, it gave me the lesson of like, always being prepared to write lyrics so that I could pick out a way to find motivation or inspiration. I don’t wait for that inspiration, I gotta always go look for it. For example during everyday conversation, if there’s something or if there’s a word if there’s a phrase that I like, I write it down on my phone.” He pauses for a moment and then sheepishly admits, “To be really honest, I haven’t been doing that for months now. I need to get back on it.” He also says rather than listening to new music, skimming through lyrics is always his go-to move when it comes to evolving his style of storytelling. “So I guess it’s just continuous experiences that helped me to grow and, like you said, evolve.”

I ask the band which of their songs they would recommend to a new listener to help them understand DAY6’s artistry, and there’s a collective hum as they contemplate. “That’s a really difficult question,” says Wonpil. “Maybe ‘You Were Beautiful?’” The rest of the band agree wholeheartedly, and feel the 2017 rock ballad does a great job of summing up who DAY6 are. It’s certainly a fantastic example of the band’s powerful songwriting and their uncanny ability to to delve into topics that are at times a little too real, a little too familiar.

DAY6’s complex Book of Us series of albums have dealt mainly with the various levels of human interactions, emotions and relationships, each volume diving deeper into the complexities of what makes us who we are. The ‘Us’ in the titles can refer to DAY6 themselves, the relationship between them and their fandom MyDay as well as various other relationships the members might have in their lives. It’s also a general reference to the relationships we as human beings cultivate in our lives. The first album in the series The Book of Us: Gravity was one of their brightest releases, exploring youth and young love. The Book of Us: Entropy was a little heavier, a little more mature, exploring the beginning and end of relationships and how it changes a person.

The band’s upcoming release of The Book of Us: The Demon is perhaps their most anticipated release yet. Set to drop tomorrow, May 11th, the eight-track EP already hints at a slightly darker route than its predecessors with its title, promising a deeper look into the core meaning of the series. The teaser for the lead single “Zombie” which dropped on May 8th shows the band wandering dazed through crowds while the track itself seems to build on angsty alt rock. DAY6 also dropped an album sampler that hints The Demon cruises through pop rock (“Day and Night”), blues (“Tick Tock”), post-punk revival (“Stop”), acoustic pop (“Afraid”) and more.

In true DAY6 style however, the tracks can change direction in-between, crossing genres from one verse to another. It’s all a surprise right up until we hear the record, which is one of the best things about listening to a new release from this band. While I’m not told any specifics, I’m assured that DAY6 plan to go bigger than ever before when it comes to future releases. “We want to go to space!” exclaims Dowoon and the band agree enthusiastically. How does space translate sonically? “We want to go for a larger scale of music,” he explains. It’s about dreaming bigger and looking at ways to elevate DAY6’s musicianship. Jae adds, “Yeah, maybe going from just one acoustic guitar to like a full brass band or something.” We discuss possibilities of DAY6 working with an orchestra someday and it’s a pretty fantastic vision.

Speaking of future plans, I decide to put them on the spot and ask about when we’re getting an India tour. “Whenever you guys call us, we are definitely there!” Jae assures me immediately. Young K and Wonpil explain they are familiar with Bollywood and eager to learn more about it. “I am aware it’s huge there. And recently Katy Perry did something with Bollywood?” asks Young K. We realize he’s referring to the pop diva’s massive November concert in Mumbai with Dua Lipa and he shares that it’s one of the reasons DAY6 are more eager to check out India’s concert scene. “Yeah, I actually heard it from my friend. They were telling me, ‘Yo, you should go to India’ and like wherever it is, we always want to go. If there are people who are willing to listen to us and enjoy with us at the concert, we want to go.” Jae adds, “You guys have a lot of people and for us it’s a new culture and we are always interested in going to different places and seeing new things, trying different foods… naturally the food! So yes, we’ve always wanted to go to India, so call us!”

We spend the rest of our allotted time together talking planning a show in India for 2020 and although COVID-19 has postponed these plans for now, it’s something the band believe needs to happen. “We definitely wanna see you guys,” says Young K. “It’s always great to go to new places. Until the time that we meet, we want you guys to stay healthy and happy.”

By Riddhi Chakraborty

©️Rolling Stone India

#day6 #t: article #t: interview #200510 #rolling stone india

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upamongthestarss · 4 years ago

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When Love Walked In//Bill Denbrough

a/n: please be kind! this is my first time publishing on tumblr, and i’m not the best writer 💘 oh, and warnings! very mild nsfw, brief mention of self harm (blink and you’ll miss it)

Y/n takes a drag and squirms under Richie’s glance, just knowing that he’s going to pick on her, as per usual.

“Hmmm…. Y/n, truth or dare?”

Figures. “Um, truth.” Better to be safe than sorry when it comes to Richie.

“What was the farthest you and Bill have ever gone?”

Her cheeks turn pink as she passes the joint to Bill, her boyfriend since the age of thirteen. “Well-”

“Was this really necessary, Trashmouth?” Ben interrupts. “I’d much rather not know about my sister’s sexual life, thank you.”

“Close your ears if you want to, Benny,” Y/n giggles while he fumes over the nickname. “Probably just hickeys and groping.”

“Really? You’ve been dating for three years and that’s it?” Stanley raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, St-Stan, y-y-you talk to m-me when you’ve lost your vir-virginity.”

“Come on, Big Bill, we all know you’ve been ready to have sex with her since sophomore year.”

Richie knows he messed up right away, especially as everyone stares at him accusingly- everyone but Y/n, who awkwardly looks around the room and sings under her breath like she didn’t hear.

“N-nice, R-R-Richie,” Bill whispers.

“Bill, I am so sorry.”

Y/n still feigns oblivion and scans the room. “Bev, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she shrugs, continuing the game. Y/n tries to forget about what happened until it’s time to leave the clubhouse. Her ride, conveniently enough, is Bill.

He didn’t want to leave his car on the outskirts of the barrens, so instead he pedals Silver to the clubhouse and back, with Y/n squeezing the living daylights out of him. It’s a quiet ride back, save the strange, existential comments Bill occasionally makes and her singing Can’t Fight This Feeling on repeat. It’s not until he’s almost back to Y/n’s house that she gathers enough courage to say what she wants to.

Because, in all honesty, she’s been ready to have sex too, just way too shy to say so.

“So… when do your parents come back from their cruise?”

She asks it casually, as if to wonder what day their English test is. In fact, it’s so casual that Bill doesn’t even take the hint (although it may not help that he’s utterly stoned at the moment).

“T-Tuesday.”

“And are you doing anything Saturday night?”

He skids Silver to a stop on the pavement. “No…”

“So what time do you want me to come over?”

*********

Singing happily, Y/n twists the last strand of hair around her curling iron and lets it tumble over her shoulder. She’s struggled with self esteem issues in the past, but she personally thinks she looks beautiful right now. While she puts on her pineapple lip gloss, her brother comes into the bathroom to grab some ibuprofen.

“You look awfully nice to sleep over at Bev’s,” he comments.

She freezes. “Yup….”

“Is there a reason that you’re so dressed up?” he gestures to her lavender party dress.

“We’re, uh, going to see Pippin at the fancy theater,” she fibs smoothly, but her twin sees right through her and smirks.

“Oh, funny, I thought opening night was next week?”

Y/n glares. “Okay, fine, I’m sleeping over at Bill’s, okay? But you can’t tell mom, please?”

“I don’t know, Y/n, this is a pretty big secret to hide.”

“Come on, Ben, I keep all of your secrets!”

He gives a cough that sounds a lot like the beer in my room.

“Hey, that was your own fault for breaking my favourite tape.”

“It was an accident!”

“It wasn’t an accident when you took it without asking,” Y/n puts her hands on her hips.

Ben sighs, not wanting to lose this argument. “How about this- if I get our car for the weekend, I won’t tell mom.”

“But Benny, I need that car to get to Bill’s!”

“You just made things ten times worse for yourself by calling me that. Besides, I’ll drive you there. It’s the car or no deal.”

She knows right then and there that she is out of luck. Her brother cannot bluff for his own life, so she has no choice but to agree.

But she can’t stay annoyed for long because she’s beyond excited for what’s coming. Her knee bounces in anticipation the whole drive, and she even sings along to the radio (which isn’t anything new, except for she’s louder than usual).

When Ben pulls up to Bill’s driveway, Y/n kisses his cheek and hops out instantly. He has to shout for her to come back and grab her duffel bag.

“Be safe!” he tells her. ”Love you!”

“Ben, I LOVE you!” she waves her hand off as he drives into the distance.

Bill’s waiting for her in the doorway, wearing jeans, a flannel, and a smile.

“Hey, Y-Y/n.”

She runs into his open arms and takes in the faint smell of his cologne. She already has butterflies.

“Y-you w-want to order a p-p-pizza, or-?”

“I’m honestly not that hungry,” she admits. “Are you?”

He shakes his head truthfully.

“D-d-do you w-want to go up-upstairs?”

“Sure.”

Bill leads the way to his bedroom, though she’s been there several times. He can’t get her out of his head. Her angelic curls, her dress the color of lilacs. She’s more lovely than a flower. He can hear her singing sweetly as they climb to his room.

“Love walked right in and drove the shadows away. Love walked right in and brought my sunniest day.”

He remembers when she sang that song at her recital last year. It was a true song for both of them.

When Y/n first moved to Derry, people made fun of her brother for his weight and herself for her nose and quirky personality. Her self esteem plunged and she refused to talk to anyone about it. Friendless and hopeless, she would cross-hatch her forearms and eventually stop singing altogether. But then her brother met the Losers, and encouraged Y/n to hang out with them some time. She instantly bonded with Bill, who had low self esteem because of his stutter and mainly because he blamed himself for the death of his brother. With the Losers, Y/n began to feel like she belonged again. She had friends that loved her for who she is- personality and nose included. Bill and her developed crushes on each other and in early August, following the Losers’ brief separation. One night during that time period, they spilled all of their issues on each other. The night ended with an innocent peck under the stars in his backyard. Love walked in and saved them both. After Pennywise was defeated, the two encouraged each other to see a therapist. Slowly but surely, they got healthy, and Y/n started singing again. In fact, she never stops singing now. It drives Ben quite mad sometimes.

She sings better than anyone he knows, and anytime she lets that sweet voice go, he melts.

“I m-made a tape. F-f-for… you know. But I’d m-m-much rather y-y-you sing for us.”

She giggles softly at the thought of her singing while he moans. “A tape sounds wonderful.”

He pops it in his stereo and listens to her gasp in excitement.

“I love Unchained Melody!!”

“Y-y-you don’t know h-how long it t-t-took for this s-song to c-come on the radio. I had to r-r-request it ev-eventually.”

“That’s so thoughtful, Bill.”

Y/n cups his face and gives him an open mouthed kiss. He’s instantly hard.

“I’m ready, Bill,” she whispers.

“Muh-muh-me t-t-too.”

His stutter is evidently worse; he’s nervous out of his mind, after all. But he takes control of the situation, scooping Y/n up and placing her on his bed like she’s the most fragile diamond.

She reaches and grabs Bill by his collar, pulling his lips to hers. Underneath their gasping and the music are their uncontrollable heartbeats. It’s almost as if they’re going to beat straight out of their chests!

Bill pulls away to unbutton his shirt, but Y/n is already on it. When it’s completely open, she pulls it off of his shoulders and squeezes his muscles. He’s so toned from all of the sports he does (mainly baseball), but Y/n always finds herself surprised at how muscular he really is.

He glides his hand gently along her chest, as if she’s his piano, before grabbing her spaghetti straps. He slips them down her arms and ever so slowly pulls the dress down her body. Her chest is braless, and by now he’s practically creamed his pants. His mind is hazy, though he’s completely sober.

Okay, Bill. Think, you idiot. You need to stimulate her now so she can finish later.

He places his warm hands on Y/n’s frigid stomach and feels her tense up.

“Is-is-is this o-o-o-okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just ticklish,” she laughs.

He takes his hand down to her panties and shoves it under them.

Y/n is already in heaven.

******

The pizza man gets quite a shock when Bill opens the door in nothing but his boxers, but he doesn’t give a flying shit. Besides, better him than Y/n, who’s wearing a just flannel with her ass hanging out.

They chuckle about his reaction, devouring the pizza and watching Beverly Hills 90210.

“I never thanked you, you know,” Y/n pipes up during a commercial break.

“For the p-pizza? It was o-only five b-b-bucks.”

“Not for the pizza. For the sex,” she responds bluntly. “That was… incredible. Thank you.”

Bill turns red. “Th-thank you. You w-w-were p-perfect. You a-a-are perfect.”

“I think you’re pretty perfect too,” she grins, giving him a kiss.

Bill smiles at her. He’s never loved someone like this before, spiritually or physically. Sure, he’s jacked off several times (like every other guy in the world), but the pleasure and adoration he received from Y/n just in the past hour was insurmountable. And he can’t wait for the rest of his life with her.

“R-round two?”

Y/n beams, and before she can stop herself, she says the quirkiest thing ever.

“Abso-freaking-lutely.”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #stephen king it #the losers club #soft smut #some fluff

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years ago

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Raise Your Voice Against Liars

By BeeTeeDubya14 & Naruwitch On Archive of Our Own

@thebigpapilio asked me if I accepted submissions and I do! This is a Miraculous + Persona 5 crossover, that they have been working on with their friend! While I don't actually know Persona 5, I read over the first chapter and found it very interesting! I thought for sure you'd all enjoy it as much as I did! So here is the first chapter! If you like it please go on to Archive of Our Own and give them some love!!

"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."

-Andre Berthiaume

Chapter 1: L'Interrogatoire

Sae leaned back, puzzled by what the prisoner just said, “So the Phantom Thieves only stole the heart of Futaba Sakura…? And Medjed was in turn defeated by her real-world hacking abilities…? Well, this does correlate to the facts as we know them…”

Sae grew quiet, and her next sentence was mostly to herself, though she said it aloud. “If he’s telling the truth, then Wakaba Isshiki didn’t commit suicide… did a third party target her life with the goal of destroying her research? Wakaba’s death was two years ago… that also coincides with when the incidents started occurring… does this other Metaverse user that Madarame and Kaneshiro mentioned… really exist…?”

With a frown, she shook her head before turning her attention back to the captive, “Earlier I mentioned those psychotic breakdown incidents that have alarmed the public. All of a sudden, people will lose consciousness, or become violent… A situation as incomprehensible as that can’t be explained away as ‘troubled social conditions.’ I suspect that these cases are all connected to a larger, man-made plot. The method involved always muddled the explanation, but your story has virtually confirmed its viability. Although, I wouldn’t have expected a new criminal to come to light from your testimony…” Sae leaned closer to the prisoner, “What did your group think of this other Metaverse user?”

“You mean the true criminal?” he questioned.

Sae scoffed, “How self-centered of you. The Phantom Thieves tamper with people’s hearts without asking consent. How is that different?”

Sighing, Sae then continued to focus on the prisoner. “Well… no matter how you thought of them, there can be no doubting your resolve. Are those incidents because of you or someone else…? Either way, I will get to the bottom of this.”

Sae shook her head, and pulled out her briefcase again, “Now let’s move on to your next crime.” She pulled out a folder, just as she had the last four times and laid it in front of the teenager, “Lila Nikenna Rossi. An Italian student who was studying at Collège Françoise Dupont in Paris, France. This is the first known report of the Phantom Thieves targeting someone outside of Japan. Your testimony regarding this incident will be serious. I’m sure you understand why. Not only is she your first foreign target, but also the youngest target out of all that the Phantom Thieves have changed the heart of. Answer me carefully. Why did you go after her?”

Despite all the grogginess afflicting him, Akira Kurusu managed to faintly grin.

“We owed some good people a favor.”

Chapter 2: Wake up, Get up, Get Out (Of) There

"Are you sure you're going to be okay in Hawaii, Marinette?"

"Yes, Luka, I'll be fine," Marinette smiled as she pulled her luggage off the security belt.

"Remember, if you need to talk, at any time, please do it, okay? I don't care if it's 2 AM over here. If you need-"

"Luka, you're treating me like a child," Marinette said bluntly, but no heat was behind it.

The guitarist gasped on the other line, "No, no! That's not what I was implying, I just-"

Marinette giggled. That's one of the things she really liked about Luka. "That overprotective attitude isn't going to change anytime soon, is it?" That said, although there were times where he went a little overboard, he usually knew Marinette's limits. It seemed that he needed a small reminder before she departed for her flight, though.

Ever since Chloe's stunt as Miracle Queen, she and Luka had been dating steadily for several months. After Adrien had made it official with Kagami, Marinette struggled to move on and accept that it was better to simply be friends with the model. She, of course, didn't want to use the older Couffaine as a fallback guy, and she had made that clear to him shortly before they made it official too, but… Luka had been there for her when no one else was. She had been in a dark place, and there seemed to be no way out. But Luka provided the light she needed to find the exit.

As for Chloe herself? Well… once word got out about Hawkmoth's near victory, and Chloe's involvement with it, many citizens and even government officials spoke out against the mayor and other members of his staff for action to be taken. The incident with the metro tunnel was also brought up, as Chloe was never adequately punished for intentionally endangering so many people. Mayor Bourgeois, to appease the masses, was forced to send Chloe away to a boarding school in Sweden, at least until Hawkmoth was finally dealt with. That's where she'd been for the past five months, and Marinette hadn't heard from the blonde since.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts before they could fester. She was going to Hawaii for crying out loud! And she was going to have a blast! Nothing was going to change that. Not Hawkmoth, not Lila, and her lies, nothing would get in her way of having a fun time.

The thought of Hawkmoth had her hand subconsciously wander to her purse, where Tikki and Kaalki were situated. She was so lucky (heh, that would garner a laugh from Chat) that Kwamis didn't show up on cameras, much less on airport security x-rays machines. She would have had a field day trying to explain that to a security guard.

Luka gave a breathy laugh over the phone, "Sorry, a force of habit. Sorry I couldn't be there to see you or Jules off personally."

Marinette smiled. That had been the original plan, but as luck would have it, Luka got called in for an emergency shift by his boss at the very last minute, and there were no other people who could fill in.

"No problem, sometimes life happens like that. Although, even on vacation, Hawkmoth's Akumas always have the worst timing."

She could see Luka wincing on the other line, "Yeah, considering that Hawaii is practically on the opposite side of the world, it looks like you're in for some long nights. So sorry, babe."

She had the news app on high alert at all times, so the second an Akuma alert went up, she'd teleport back to Paris to deal with the Akuma as quickly as possible. She was grateful that Luka would be on standby with Sass as well, especially when Chat Noir alerted her that he would be out of town for the weekend as well.

"Yeah…"

"Marinette! We're about to board! Please come and join the class!" Mme. Bustier called from the boarding gate.

"Gotta go, Luka, I'll text you when we land in Tokyo!"

"Okay, be safe! Love you!"

"Love you too!"

There were, fortunately, no accidents or disruptions as Marinette boarded the plane and found her seat. After buckling up, Tikki and Kaalki poked their heads out of her little purse. The bag was small enough that Marinette wasn't required to put it under the seat, so long as it stayed flung over her shoulder. The little red Kwami winked at her holder, and Kaalki nodded. Marinette smiled at her little companions and pretended to listen to the flight attendant give the safety instructions.

It wasn't long before she watched from her window seat the plane take off from the tarmac. Once the pilot said they were at cruising altitude, Marinette pulled out her MP3 player and headphones and leaned back with a smile, the soft melody of Luka's guitar strings lulling her to sleep.

o~o

Marinette was awakened by the thump of the plane landing.

As she traversed the airport "with" her classmates (they were all hanging around Lila and leaving her alone), she noticed a pattern in the dress of many passersby, most of which were likely Japanese locals given that they were in Japan at the moment. Black & red seemed to be a common staple at this airport, more than occasionally accompanied by the words "Take Your Heart" and a weird logo of a domino mask and top hat. The words "Phantom Thieves" were sprawled across many of the logos too.

Marinette wanted to ask around as to what it all meant, but she didn't know a lick of Japanese and had places to be, so she moved on. She'd just look it up at the hotel.

She sent a quick text to Luka to let him know she'd arrived safely and was on her way to the hotel they'd be staying at for the night. Then she switched to the web, typing "Phantom Thieves" into the search engine. She found quite a few interesting things in a place called the "Phan-Site." There was apparently a group of vigilantes out there in Japan - Tokyo, specifically - calling themselves "The Phantom Thieves" with the power to "change people's hearts" (which seemed to mean making said people confess their crimes. How that worked, Marinette had no idea). So far, the Phantom Thieves had only taken down four major targets, their names, and information listed on the site. Marinette didn't recognize any of them, but when she typed up the names, she was immediately glad that these people had had "a change of heart."

The first, theorized to be the Thieves' very first target, was a man Suguru Kamoshida. He was apparently an Olympic volleyball medalist that taught at a high school called Shujin Academy. The Thieves targeted him because it was revealed that he was physically abusing and even sexually assaulting several students at the school. One of them even tried to commit suicide right in front of the student body because of it. Thankfully, this student survived their attempt. According to separate reports, the school was well aware of the abuse but didn't do a thing to stop it. Then, about a week after the suicide attempt, Kamoshida confessed to everything! The abuse, the assaults, everything.According to reports, it was like he was a completely different person, almost like his personality had changed entirely. He was now being held on bail and awaiting trial. Marinette hoped he went away forever!

The second person was a former artist named Ichiryusai Madarame. (Now that she thought about it, she could have sworn she saw his name on some art pieces at the Louvre for a limited time Japanese exhibit). He cultivated his own fame and fortune by sacrificing the livelihood of children. He took young artists into his home, a tiny shack, and then stole and plagiarized their work, passing it off as his own. Apparently, one of his victims was his own foster son. Just like with Kamoshida, Madarame, shortly after one of his exhibits closed, confessed to these crimes, his personality having shifted completely. Even though he seemed to show remorse, Marinette hoped he got what he deserved. This man reminded her too much of Bob Roth, especially when he stole Kitty Section's music and her costume designs.

Next was Junya Kaneshiro. This target was apparently what really allowed the Phantom Thieves' popularity to take off. He was a mafia boss that even the local authorities were struggling to arrest, even though his crimes were common knowledge in the Shibuya area. Then suddenly, he one day turned himself into the police. This one didn't have as much information. The police apparently tried to keep the arrest on the down-low due to the circumstances. The only reason the public found out the Phantom Thieves were involved was because of an abundance of calling cards that were scattered all over Shibuya. Kamoshida and Madarame had received similar cards before they confessed as well.

Finally, and this happened about a week ago, a group of international hackers, under the name Medjed, attempted a cyberwar against the Phantom Thieves and Japan itself. They threatened to ruin Japan's economy through a cyber attack unless the Phantom Thieves surrendered and revealed their identities to the public. They had set a deadline and everything. Then, the day before the deadline would have expired, the Phantom Thieves apparently stopped them, as Medjed's website was hacked with the Phantom Thief logo all over the webpage. Whether that was done by the Phantom Thieves themselves, or an avid supporter, no one knew, but Medjed was stopped, and Japan's economy remained stable.

Despite being vigilantes, Marinette genuinely believed the Phantom Thieves were helping the public overall by exposing corruption like this. Who knew what would still be happening if these people were still allowed to roam free? She didn't know how the Thieves convinced these people to confess their crimes and had no clue what "steal your heart" meant, though she had a feeling it wasn't something natural. Their actions seemed to be non-violent, though. None of their victims showed signs of physical injury or torture when they confessed. That was likely another reason the Phantom Thieves were receiving so much public support.

Marinette had learned a lot about destiny from Fu (it still hurt a little bit not referring to him as Master, even in her head), and the fact she was temporarily in the place where something this momentous, something this clearly magical was going on… she needed to look into this. But how? Nobody knew who the Phantom Thieves were, much less what they looked like! You could supposedly communicate with them via a proxy on the Phan-site, but no one has officially met any of them face-to-face. They seemed to be masters of blending into the crowd, not to mention the police weren't getting solid leads either.

What was even more confusing was that Tikki and Kaalki didn't know anything about this whole thing either.

"I've never heard of "changing people's hearts" in the way it's described here," Tikki admitted, referring to the Phan-Site.

"Hmm… maybe Ziggy knows something? She's the kwami of Imagination, so she's the one most connected to the mind," Kaalki suggested.

"Alright, I'll talk to Ziggy when we get back to Paris," Marinette nodded. She hoped the Goat Kwami had a possible answer.

"Hmmm… I wonder if Kagami knows anything about them," Marinette wondered aloud, glancing over at Alix, who was snoring in the bed next to hers. Surprisingly, Alix had volunteered to room with Marinette, which shocked her. She and Alix were friends, but not like how she and Alya used to be. Now that she thought about it, though, Alix may still listen to Lila's stories, but it seemed to be more out of politeness than actual interest now. If anything, for the last month or so, when Alix and Lila interacted, the skater just looked bored with the Italian. Could it be that the skater was catching onto Lie-la's lies?

Deciding to check if her theory had merit, Marinette sent a text to the fencer, asking if she had heard of the Phantom Thieves or not. She got a reply a few minutes later. Kagami had heard of them, but she didn't know much about them either. She and her mother had been living in Paris for about a year and a half, and the Phantom Thieves had only surfaced only a few months ago, so she didn't have much information apart from a few Japanese news articles and some online searches.

Marinette sighed and began to put her phone away when an Akuma alert blew up her screen.

"Perfect timing, Hawkmoth," she muttered sarcastically as she got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. She turned on the light to make it look like she was simply using the toilet before letting the two kwamis slip out of her purse, "Let's deal with this quickly! Tikki, spots on!"

One magical transformation later, Ladybug stood in all her glory in the tiny Tokyo bathroom. She quickly pulled out Kaalki's glasses and slipped them on. "Tikki, Kaalki, unify!"

o~o

It was about thirty minutes later that Ladybug (Lady Horseshoe with both Miraculous active) stepped back into the hotel bathroom. By the time that she had gotten to the actual fight, Luka, clothed as his new hero alias Kobra, had managed to corner the Akuma and figure out where the item was. One Lucky Charm later, and two shots of Second Chance, according to the snake hero, the Akuma was purified, and everything returned to normal in Paris.

She was also equally grateful that Kobra seemed calm after the fight ended. There had been fights in the past that had left the hero shaking, eyes wide with barely masked horror. One fight had him clinging to Ladybug afterward for about two minutes before she convinced him to let go of her. Even after that, it had taken the night being alone, lots of tears, and cuddling for Luka to finally calm down and accept that everything was okay.

During these moments was when Marinette was reminded that the Snake Miraculous was sometimes considered the most dangerous of the Miraculous. Not only did it make the holder a problematic opponent in combat, but the mental load it carried for the holder itself could take its toll over time. Luka had seen some things as both Viperion and Kobra, some that took more time to process and work through than others.

It had taken Luka a while to understand that he could talk to someone about what was going on. Due to his own family dynamics, and his selfless nature, Luka wasn't used to talking about his own problems, and usually preferred to work through them on his own. Over time though, this wore the guitarist down, to the point that he couldn't hide it anymore. This was one of the factors that convinced Marinette, as the Guardian, to make Luka a permanent holder. Sass had been an excellent help for Luka to process the many 'bad endings' he was forced to witness as part of his power. However, there were sometimes days where talking to the little kwami wasn't enough, which was why the couple had the rule of calling the other whenever they needed to speak. Even if it was in the middle of the night.

Other factors contributed to this decision too, but Marinette was too exhausted to dwell on them for now as she snuck out of the bathroom. To her relief, Alix was still asleep and seemed oblivious to what had happened.

After grabbing a macaroon for Tikki and a sugar cube for Kaalki (both of which she picked up in Paris), Marinette quickly climbed into her own bed and was asleep within seconds.

#miraculous au #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous fandom #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #persona 5 #marinette dupen chang

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eunahfmdarchive · 4 years ago

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dancing cartoon - partial lyrics credit, partial composition credit, partial production credit.

date: january 2021. word count: 1,275, not including lyrics. 1. this is so bad, 2. my knowledge of music production terms is extremely rudimentary, but 3. i’m trying, ok this is 4am ramblings from a girl whose musical education is limited to singing lessons, i know my vocal ranges and that’s about it and uh 4. i am going to bed. edit: 5. will i ever not ramble holy shit calm down girlie (i’m girlie)

CW: mentions of alcohol.

the idea for dancing cartoon is planted during that damn cruise that the companies sent everyone on. truthfully, eunah had a rather decent time, holed up with her books for company either in her room or in the onboard library, but she’d still find a reason to complain about it -- like the fact that she’d had cameras thrust in her face at every opportunity, and to a lesser extent, being forced by social obligation and pressures to show her face at one too many parties.

but, shockingly, she’d enjoyed herself, especially on new year’s eve. she relaxed for once. totally, fully relaxed. the idea of a party song wormed its way into her head the next morning, right next to the hangover induced headache.

the idea wanders out of her mind again, until she’s sitting in a production studio with a producer she’s become particularly close with over the last year, fiddling around with different beats as they run after that spark that means they’ve got something special -- and then, over the uptempo, lighthearted beat they’d just loaded up, it hits her. it begs the question, how to make a party song, but keep it in line with the rather vague guidelines dimensions gave them of ‘light’, ‘thoughtful’, and ‘nostalgic’? on one hand, eunah’s glad they trust her with her solo music, but as they’re filling out the tracklist options, she’s anxious to submit as much good, actually listenable work as possible, just in case they take back their trust. she still hasn’t gotten a song on a 7rophy release since blow your mind, after all.

with a starting point finally in hand, they turn to the melody. eunah goes back and forth for hours between the guitar she brought from home, and the keyboard provided with the room, singing nonsensically to pin down a tune, before she even thinks about the words.

“i want it to be danceable, if you know what i mean?”

a nod.

“but, in, like, a,” as an example, rather than describing the vibe with words, eunah bops her head back and forth, accompanied by a weak raising of her arms, “like that. something ... oh, mellow. mellow. that’s the word.”

the vibe they ultimately settle on -- because vibes are an important component of any eunah song, probably too important -- is the feeling of standing at the edge of a party, catching someone’s eye, and the way it almost feels like the world closes in. the party becomes its own place, out of time, out of space. the track that they slowly build, one layer after another, aims to replicate that sensation. it has a retro feeling without feeling old fashioned. at least, eunah hopes it doesn’t.

“would it be cheesy if maybe, later on, we added in some party noises in the back of the track? like, voices and things -- or it could be at the start. at least. uh, maybe. or not.” she’s second guessing herself but they eventually come to the conclusion that, yeah, maybe it would be a little bit cheesy, but it would also contribute to the overall mood of the song.

dancing all the night i’m dancing like I’m crazy gonna forget about you today drink so much right? so sweet like soda pop, i can’t get drunk

lovesickness, the fleeting feelings for someone you see across a crowd that never looks back. eunah’s not usually one for one night stands or casual sex, but she’s felt this way before anyways, captivated by someone whose eyes look right through her. in eunah’s case, they usually can’t see her in the crowd. she’s too small, too unassumingly dressed. still, the party persists. drinks keep on flowing, and sometimes you don’t even feel them hit you, never realising just how drunk you are until later. but here, later doesn’t exist. the idea is to match the lyrics with the timelessness of the beat, and the placid multi generational appeal of the melodies starting to bounce off the walls around them. it’s somewhat twee, she thinks, and she almost feels like she’s writing down to herself, and underestimating the types of concepts she could potentially pull off.

but, she’d argue, party girl is a lot different to artsy girl or emo girl, and it’s a concept she doesn’t feel confident enough to pull off without her members standing next to her. puzzle from mezzanine was very out of her comfort zone as a soloist, for example. and so, they stick to simple, formulaic sequences of notes, but eunah likes them nonetheless.

baby woo i’m so dizzy woo i’m leaning on you feel so high feel so good it’s like dancing cartoon tonight

dancing all the night drink so much right? it’s getting hotter i’m getting crazier tonight is perfect because there’s no tomorrow

the song starts to build up, becoming less of a sit and sway track, and more like a song eunah thinks she’d dance with her friends too if she was to get particularly drunk, clasping each others’ hands and spinning around. it fits the mood perfectly. it’s exactly what she was trying to convey with her original, embarrassing little chair dance. though, it sort of implies that the narrator managed to get with the guy, especially with the lyrics about kissing and falling in love that her partner amends into the final chorus, and that typical third act key change they implement. eunah doesn’t think she does get the guy though -- to her it feels more accurately that they’ve written a song about a girl at a party who dances the night away, getting absolutely sloshed, in an attempt to forget about the man that keeps showing up in her peripheral vision, but won’t spare her a second glance. it’s getting hotter and she’s getting crazier because her inhibitions are down thanks to all that too sweet alcohol she didn’t realise she was drinking. she’s dizzy, but she’s having fun, and the world around her has turned into a dancing cartoon. eunah draws a little squiggle under that line. a title like that might point to her real intentions behind the meaning of the song, even if it does admittedly just sound like a fairly tame crush ode.

she repeats the line ‘tonight is perfect because there’s no tomorrow’ for the song’s final line, drawing a line under the enclosed singular world of the eternal party they’re throwing by way of the song. a lot of songs with this kind of sentiment, she thinks, have a lot more explicitly sexual connotations, and though there’s nothing wrong with that, eunah quite enjoys her personal, more dreamlike angle.

they layer up her vocals during the choruses and pre-choruses, but allow the high note that beckons in the bridge to speak for itself, before the voices and party sounds from the fade in intro come back in, in an attempt to suck the listener into the cartoonish party world that the song exists in. the instrumental by itself has that nostalgic vibe that dimensions said they were looking for, for sure. it’s a good song for relaxing, eunah thinks, when she listens back to the finished project. a good song for dancing too, like she intended, but somehow it turned out as less of a song to play at a party, and more so a song to listen to while imagining you’re at a party.

oh well. introverted as she is, that works too. it’s probably more fitting for her. after all, most of the time she spends at parties is against the wall. save for new year’s eve, eunah really doesn’t have much experience with dancing and drinking all night. all that’s left to do is submit it, and hope that the company don’t call her out. even if the song is a finished project, with a start and end, even if she likes it, eunah knows that its instrumentals and lyrics are derivative of countless other pop songs -- brimming with potential to get lost in the crowd.

#fmdverification #alcohol tw #1/5 verifs for 3unah!!#sleep time........ yeth

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rikumorimachisgirl · 5 years ago

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Heyyyy girl could i please get the other boys reactions to finding out mc accadently got married to gavin. I'd imagine they be really shocked/upset that she said she was pleased with the arrangement

Hello! I was gonna write something else, but I couldn't resist your prompt. This was a little difficult to write. Here is my attempt at their responses, and I hope you like it. 🙈

Title: Regrets

Pairing: Gavin x MC

Prompt: What is the reaction of the other guys to MC marrying Gavin?

Word count: 2,000+

7:30 am

You rolled on your back, your heart still racing from your passionate lovemaking. Beside you, Gavin did the same and the fine sheen of sweat that covered his body reminded you of how sexy he looked when he held your gaze as he thrust his engorged cock deep inside you until you rode out one orgasm after another.

"You've got a funny smile on your face, " he teased. "Don't tell me you're ready for round two."

"Am not, " you replied, bringing the covers up to your neck.

"Oh, come on. Can't you let your husband show you how much he loves you?"

You were so caught up on playing hard-to-get, you almost failed to hear the creaking of your front door as it opened. You froze and looked at your husband, who had already wrapped a towel around his waist and tossed his shirt at you.

As you slipped into his white undershirt, you heard the sound of the voice you've been dreading to hear.

"Honey, I've brought you breakfast. You can't still be mad at me for - oh."

It was Lucien - top-notch neuroscientist, next-door-neighbor, and until yesterday, your lover. He held a bag of hot buns in one hand, and his gaze shifted from the half-naked police officer to you a few times.

You sighed. He rarely used the spare key you gave him in the past, but you were so upset yesterday, he must've felt he needed to do something special. "Lucien, " you called, your voice snapping him out of his reverie. "I'd like you to meet Gavin..."

The scientist looked at you like you had lost your mind. Really, he must've thought, why would you be standing in front of him introducing the guy you had just slept with, whose shirt you had on?

"... My husband."

Your last line struck him like a punch in the gut. His eyes drifted to the ring you now sported, and his heart sank. So surprised by your unexpected announcement, the usually calm and collected Loveland University Professor dropped the bag he was holding, the buns rolling out of the bag.

Thinking fast, Gavin bent over to pick up the buns and place them back in the brown paper bag his wife's former flame had just dropped. "Here you go."

"Uh, thank you, " the scientist replied in his usual monotone, before shaking his head. "Oh, where are my manners? Congratulations to you both. I'm sorry for intruding your privacy. I should go."

You watched in silence as he fished the spare key of your apartment from his pocket, and placed it on the table before walking out the door. You felt the weight of your guilt vanish as he took one step after another away from you, and when he finally closed the door behind him, you knew for certain you weren't going to see him again.

One down, two to go.

10:30 am

LFG was bustling with activity as the employees went about their daily grind. On the top floor, the CEO paced back and forth in his office. He had been feeling restless since last night, but he had no idea why. Throughout the sleepless night, he typed messages to you several times but never sent them. He smiled wryly at the thought that you might be getting the wrong impression once again.

But you had an appointment with him at ten in the morning, and you were never late for your meetings. Until today.

His head snapped when he heard the light rap at his door. Soon after, you poked your head in to check if he was busy or not.

"You're late, " he said, not sparing you a glance.

"Yes, and I'm sorry, " you replied silently, as you entered the room.

He looked up from his paperwork and sat back. "Not offering an excuse for me this time?"

"I have none, " you said. "But I have an explanation."

"Do you know? Let's hear it, " he gestured with his hand, encouraging you to speak up.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Though he never admitted it, you always felt that he treated you differently - like you actually mattered to him - and what you were about to say to him would probably break his heart.

"I… I… well, I…"

He frowned as you stammered, and he watched you twist your fingers together. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, " you nodded. "The truth is, I was gonna send Anna to take my place today, but I thought that would be improper."

He narrowed his eyes as you spoke, silently assessing what could be wrong. And then he saw it - a faint glimmer as the light hit your wedding band. "I see, " he said. "I have to change my evaluation of you. Up to now, I thought you were the worst idiot to walk this earth. Apparently, there's someone even stupider than you…"

"Hey -"

"Who's the unlucky man?"

"His name is Gavin, he's a police officer, and he makes me happy, " you replied, stressing on every word to get the message through.

The twenty-eight-year-old executive was silent for a while. He knew the guy - he was rough around the edges, but he was an extremely talented Evol Agent, probably the best in the force. He sighed in resignation.

"Well, I suppose I owe you a present for your wedding, " he finally said as he took out an envelope from his drawer and tossed it across his desk to you.

Curiously, you opened it and saw two tickets to a Carribean cruise. He watched as your eyes widened and your lips stretched to a smile - the widest and most beautiful you've given by far. As you held the tickets in your hand, he felt his heart sink. He did intend to give those to you today, but he had hoped it was him you'd be taking with you on your well-deserved vacation, but fate wasn't so kind.

"Now get out of my office and tell Anna to come. You need to go on a proper honeymoon as commoners do."

"You know you could be less of a jerk about it, " you said, faking a frown. In reality, you felt relief wash over you as the regular rhythm of your banter returned. "Thank you for these, Victor!"

He waved you off and waited until you closed the door before he picked up his phone.

"Goldman, I'll be taking the rest of the day off today. Cancel my appointments. I won't be reachable for the next twenty-four hours."

One more to go…

2:30 pm

On your way to pick up Gavin, you made one last detour to B.S. Entertainment. Kiro was guesting in your new talk show tonight, but you wouldn't be around to watch it so you thought of cheering him on early.

As you made your way up the elevator, you silently wished he wasn't shooting anywhere today.

"I didn't expect to see you this early. Have you come to pick up Kiro?"

You smiled as his agent greeted you quite warmly. Normally, he'd be too swamped with phone calls to even nod at your direction.

"Quiet day today?"

"It's quiet now. It was crazy this morning, " he replied, scratching his head. "If you want to see him, he's in the studio rehearsing for tonight."

An enchanting melody filled the air as you walked to the recording studio. You recognize the sound - Canon in D - your favorite, being played beautifully on a solo violin. You snuck inside the closed room and were immediately entranced by the vision before you - Kiro with his eyes closed, playing so exquisitely, you couldn't help but applaud when he finished.

"Hey! When did you get here, Miss Chips?"

You laughed at his term of endearment, which he never seemed to get rid of, after all this time.

"That was so amazing, Kiro!"

He blushed slightly and then regained his composure. "Of course, it is. I'm rehearsing because I'm playing your favorite tune tonight," he said, as he bounded over to you. "So what brings you here this early?"

The earnest look in his eyes made you want to cry. You haven't been anything more than friends, yet it felt like you were going to do something horrible and your heart couldn't take that.

"Hey…, " the superstar said, taking your hand in his.

You notice his eyes widen as the cool metal of your band touched his palm, and he suddenly brought your left hand up to inspect closely.

"New ring, Miss Chips? It's cute… and it almost looks like a wedding ring…"

You cleared your throat. "That's because it is."

As his gaze drifted from the hand he was holding to meet yours, you could have sworn you saw a tinge of hurt in those blue eyes for a split second, and he forced a bright smile on his face to cover it up.

"Really? That's amazing!"

"Yeah, it is. He's a great guy. I wish you could meet him, " you trailed off, as you let his hand go. "But anyway, I'm here now because I won't be able to come to the show later. We're going on a trip for a few days, so I thought I'd come to cheer for you before I go."

"Aww… You didn't have to do that, " he joked, messing up your hair. "But thank you for dropping by. I- 'll dedicate the song I play later to you."

"That's so sweet of you, " you beamed. "Thank you, Kiro!"

"No problem, " he said, his smile plastered upon his handsome face. "So, I guess I won't be seeing you for a while."

"Yes, but I'll bring you back a souvenir from our trip!"

"I'm sure you'll have lots of fun, " he mused happily.

"I sure will, " you seconded. "But right now, I gotta go. Gavin should have been done filing his leaves by now."

"Yeah. Well, take care and don't overeat!"

"I'm not you, Kiro, " you called out as you waved and turned to exit the room, your head on the clouds as you thought of your trip with Gavin. So caught up in your daydream, you failed to notice the smile disappear from the pop star's face, as he brought his hand up to brush away his tears.

7:30 pm

Willow texted that Kiro was up next, so you turned on the television to listen to him play.

"I'm still surprised we got a present from one of your business partners on such short notice, " Gavin said, as helped you pack. "Pretty lucky, huh?"

"I'm pretty lucky, " you replied, hugging him from behind. "Because I'm married to the best guy ever!"

He chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Of course. Where can you find a guy who would shop with you without a complaint, carry all the bags, and then help me pack for our honeymoon?"

"Mmh… either he's great or he's just crazy for you, " he said, turning around slightly to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"And speaking of great, he's pretty great in bed, too."

He smiled at your sly comment and straightened up. "Is he now?"

"Absolutely."

"And do you care to give him another chance to show how great he is in bed right now?"

Throwing your arms around his neck, you stand on the tips of your toes until your lips hovered just below his. "I thought you'd never ask, Babe."

In the background, you could hear that the host had just turned the floor over to Kiro and that he was going to perform anytime now. But all that was forgotten as your lips hungrily sought Gavin's, and he matched your passion with his. He made quick work of your clothes until you were stripped down to your panties. He lowered you in bed and kissed every single part of you, as Kiro played for the audience, a song he dedicated to you.

A few doors down, Lucien lay on his bed, attempting to read while the TV was on. The apartment felt unusually cold and empty tonight and the Finale of Tchaikovsky’s 6th symphony that Kiro played beautifully on the violin did nothing to lighten the mood. He sighed and dropped his book, defeated. While it pained him to admit, he had everything and let it go - and now he had nothing. Nothing without you.

Down the road, Victor took another shot of whiskey and asked his personal bartender to refill his glass once more. He lost count of how many glasses he's had as he played billiards by himself. The bartender turned up the volume to listen to Kiro's performance, and he paused briefly to listen. He'd never felt regret until now - for treating her the way he did, for not being honest about his feelings… for not having the power to turn back time and change things - for if he did, then he would've been the man she was making love to at this moment.

And as Kiro played the last chords of the symphony, he finally allowed his tears to fall.

#anon asks #answered #mr love queen's choice #mr love victor #mr love kiro #mr love lucien #mr love gavin #mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc fanfic #mr love fanfic

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something-tofightfor · 5 years ago

Text

Triple D: Delos Does Disney (Part 4)

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 6875

Rating: N S F W

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and all of the feedback... this part of your life with Logan is coming to a close. I love giving him a happy life, and I have no plans to stop that any time soon.

Summary: As the day winds down, Logan’s got a few more surprises in store... and so do you.

Tag list: (Please let me know if you wanna be added, removed, or moved to a different category!)

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @blah-blah-fuckit-shit @dreams-with-thoughts @wangmangagavroche @agentlingerie

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou

@madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @traeumerinwitzhelden @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @binbonsadoration @ificouldhelpyouforget @ms-delos @jeanettexkillian @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0 @projectcampbell @giggleberts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

There had been short lines for Indiana Jones and the Jungle Cruise, meaning that by the time you finished with those, you had to make a choice: Splash Mountain or Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. “We’d have to walk all the way back almost to Galaxy’s Edge to get on Splash Mountain,” Logan said, leaning back against a fence. “And you just checked the app, the wait is almost 40 minutes, so we wouldn’t -”

“You just don’t want to get wet, Logan.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Splash Mountain is…”

“No, you’re right, I don’t.” Logan shrugged, scratching his beard. “It’s dark and I’m already cold, and then we’d have to stand around in wet clothes while we watched fireworks.” He pushed off of the fence, hand reaching for yours. “Plus, we’ll be in the Bahamas for weeks.” He leaned down, kissing you on the corner of your mouth, lips lingering. “There are a ton of waterslides there, we can get as wet as we want and we won’t be cold.” No, but… You closed your eyes. He’s right. You were a little cold too, but would never admit it to Logan, because he’d never let you live it down. Thunder Mountain it is.

“Let’s just go on Thunder Mountain, Logan. It’s right here, and then we can meet them … where, again?” He slipped his fingers between yours, squeezing.

“On Main Street, they’re going to save a spot for us by the corn dog stand, that way we can go on that Buzz Lightyear thing before we leave, it’s Em’s favorite.” Another ride? But you nodded, letting Logan lead you up and into the line for the last roller coaster in the park. The line moved quickly, and you’d ridden and were off before 8:15, giving you just enough time to stop in the bathroom before heading back toward Main Street, following the crowd. You saw women eyeing Logan, paying no attention to the men that they were with, but you ignored it, leaning into your husband’s shoulder as you walked. They don’t matter. “There they are.” Logan raised his left hand, ring catching some of the twinkling lights from the lampposts as he pointed. “Plenty of space.” As you met the other three, Emily launched herself at Logan, who crouched down to her level, listening intently as she recapped the past few hours of her day. With him distracted, you looked at Mark, who nodded and used one hand to lift the strap of his backpack, indicating that he’d picked up what you asked him for. Perfect. “Hungry?” Logan’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you nodded at him, eyes moving to the line of people waiting at the cart, which was shorter than you’d thought it would be. “Be right back.”

He stepped into line and while you kept an eye on him, you spoke to Mark. “We’re doing Christmas when we get back, that way we don’t have to take anything with us or worry about getting it home… so if you want to drop that off at our place sometime, that’d be great.” Juliet laughed, her hand on Emily’s head.

“If you think my brother’s not going to give you a gift on Christmas…” You rolled your eyes, but smiled too.

“I know, believe me. I’m taking something for him, because I know he will for me, but…”

“We’ll get it there, I promise.” Mark pressed his lips together. “I had to get one for myself, too.” I figured. The three of you were laughing, Emily sitting on the ground and watching as the people walked by when Logan returned with your food ten minutes later, handing you the basket and your drink.

“Thanks, Lo.” He picked up his corn dog, holding it out to you and you responded by tapping yours against the fullest part of his, one eyebrow raised. “Cheers.” Without worrying about the condiments, you took a large bite, closing your eyes. I didn’t even realize how hungry I still was. Finishing your food without speaking, you took Logan’s trash and quickly stepped to a garbage can, hurrying back with only minutes to spare. “Can we see everything here?” You questioned him, leaning back against Logan’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you so that you were facing the castle, which was illuminated in thousands of white and blue lights.

“We wouldn’t be standin’ here if we couldn’t.” He whispered the words into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Promise.” You didn’t want to check the time, instead focusing on Juliet as she told Emily to stand, Mark as he reached down, taking Emily’s hand in one of his as she stood in front of her parents, his other arm going around Juliet’s shoulders. The three of them took a step or two away from you, Juliet looking over her shoulder and winking, Logan nodding once. Thanks, Jules. While you’d wanted to spend time with the three of them, and Emily wanted you and Logan to be there, there was a clear separation between families for arguably the most meaningful part of the night. “Here we go.” The lights dimmed and the music began playing, Logan’s arms tightening around you as he hummed along with the music.

You knew Logan could sing, he reminded you every so often in the car when you were listening to the radio, or when he was working out, headphones in. But you weren’t expecting to hear him sing Christmas carols quietly into your ear in time with a fireworks display in a crowd of thousands, and even though you were enraptured by the lights and music from the park, it was your husband’s voice that made your knees weak, puffs of air hitting your cheek as he sang along, swaying back and forth slightly. “Logan…” You whispered his name but he didn’t stop, one of the hands at your waist sneaking beneath your hoodie, fingers flat against your stomach and spread out, pulling you even closer to him. The castle went dark as the music stopped, and you turned your face toward Logan, the words dying on your lips as he kissed you quickly, your own hands covering his. Oh.

“I love you, Mrs. Delos.” He spoke quietly but you heard in his voice that he meant every word as much that time as he had the first he’d said it. You repeated the same back to him, and then the castle was illuminated again in shades of white and blue as White Christmas began playing, Logan’s voice low in your ear again. But even that was drowned out by the excited reactions of the people around you as it started to snow, the flakes falling quickly from the sky. You grinned, turning your face upward and laughing. “It’s soap.” Logan reminded you, squeezing your body once more before dropping his hands and turning you slowly in the dark, his hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. I love you so much, Logan.

You rested a hand on his chest, staring into Logan’s eyes as the ‘snow’ fell around you and the music continued, people ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing loudly, but you only saw Logan, the flakes resting in his dark hair and on his shoulders, swirling around his head. “Logan, I -” He shook his head, leaning in and dropping the hand on your face to the side of your neck.

“Just shut up and kiss me, alright?” You nodded, closing your eyes as your lips met your husband’s, fingers curling into the material of his shirt. The finale of the fireworks boomed behind you, but you ignored it, instead focused on Logan in front of you, his free arm circling your body.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough.” You hadn’t even realized that the show had ended and the lights were back on, but Juliet’s voice interrupted the kiss, Logan grinning against your mouth for a few more seconds before he pulled away. “You guys didn’t even see the end, and that was the best part.”

“Didn’t need to,” Logan said as he casually draped an arm around your shoulders, clearing his throat and looking down at Emily. “We saw the snow, right? And that’s better than the fireworks.” Emily nodded vigorously, the snowflakes still collected in her hair, and Logan glanced back at his sister. “See, Jules? Even Em agrees.” Mark laughed, shaking his head and within a few minutes, the five of you were walking toward Tomorrowland again, Emily leading the way. “One hour.” Logan whispered in your ear as you stepped through the doorway and into the darkened hallway line. “One hour and we’ll be in bed, and…” Logan groaned quietly and you closed your eyes. Not soon enough.

Though the ride - glorified laser tag - was fun, and a good way to be competitive, you were tired of the park, tired of being on your feet, and tired of keeping your hands to yourself. I’ve got an idea. “Logan.” You turned to him, eyeing the line. “I bet I get a higher score than you.” Logan rolled his eyes before answering, head shaking back and forth.

“I’ve been coming here for years, there’s no way that you get a higher score than me.” We’ll see about that. Emily, Mark and Juliet slid into one of the cars and you and Logan followed into the next, settling into the seat and waiting for the lap bar to drop. As you left the loading area, you turned to Logan, reaching for the gun attached to the front of the vehicle.

“Alright.” You grinned, holding the blaster up. “High score wins.” He nodded at you, a serious look in his eye as he reached for his own gun, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the top of the car. “Lo?” He glanced over, lips pressed together. “Good luck.” You’re gonna need it. As the car entered the darkness of the ride and the sound effects started, you used your left hand to point the gun, firing haphazardly into the darkness while you reached for Logan with the right, fingers tugging on the zipper of his jeans.

“Shit!” He jumped, hand tightening on the handle of the gun, head whipping toward you. “What are you…?” You shook your head, looking away and firing off a few shots, fingers pushing the denim of his jeans to the side before making contact with the material beneath them.

“Logan, keep firing.” You glanced back over at him, pleased to see his mouth hanging open slightly. “Wouldn’t want to lose, would you?” He shifted closer to you without speaking, and you continued the game you were playing, one hand shooting for the targets and the other on your husband, who grew hard beneath your touch, his breathing changing quickly and becoming more rapid. After a minute, you took a breath, turning your head and aiming the gun to the opposite side of the car, giving you an excuse to look at Logan, whose jaw was set, eyes wide.

“You’re terrible,” he growled, nose wrinkling, but you nodded, winking. Your fingertips found the opening in his boxer briefs, glancing off of his skin and Logan hissed loudly, head dropping forward. Anyone looking would have thought it was in defeat, but you knew that he was simply looking down and following the movement of your hand. “But I love every fucking second of it.” Of course you do. You kept shooting with one hand and stroking him with the other, knowing that there was nowhere near enough time to get Logan worked up enough for him to finish, but that you could get him going.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Logan leaned his head back, the gun aimed with his right hand, his left on his lap, fingers pressed against yours. What are you doing, Delos? He guided your hand in the dark, applying more pressure, and you heard him say your name under his breath, the end of it turning into another groan as he twitched beneath your hand. There’s no way. But even as the ride continued, slowly twisting you past the mechanical figures, you realized that you might have miscalculated, not taking into account Logan’s penchant for PDA and how aroused he got when you touched him. I’ve been teasing him all day, I should stop.

Luckily for both of you, you watched as the room grew brighter, signaling the end of the ride. Quickly, Logan pushed your hand away from his lap, squeezing your fingers before letting them go to pull his zipper back up, adjusting himself through his pants while he sat up straight, breath escaping through his nose as he bit down on his lower lip. “Logan.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he shook his head, swallowing hard. As the ride pulled into the station and the bar went up, you slid out of the car, Logan following closely.

“Stay in front of me.” His voice was strained and you nodded as you followed Emily and her parents down the hallway to the TV monitors where you could pull up your picture. Oh, shit, I forgot about… As you and Logan stopped walking, Emily quickly jabbed at the screen and you heard him swear under his breath. Oh, I hope it’s as blurry as it usually is. “Em, we don’t need ours, just get yours.” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s -”

“There you are!” The girl’s voice drew your attention to the screen above her head, where your picture was displayed. “You and Uncle Logan aren’t even paying attention.” Your eyes widened, Logan hissed and Juliet forced a laugh into a cough as everyone’s eyes focused on the screen, on which a slightly blurry image showed you and Logan holding your blasters - Logan’s was pointed downward, yours was angled toward his side of the car, but it was the position of your bodies that told the whole story. “What’s your email, Uncle Logan?” You tried not to laugh as Logan recited the address to his niece, eyes still on the picture on the screen. His head was tilted down, and you were looking at Logan’s lap, too, leaning forward, your hands hidden by the front of the car. Whoops. You glanced up at Juliet again, the woman’s eyes bright with a mixture of shock and amusement. So sorry, Juliet.

“Thank you, Emily.” Logan cleared his throat, shaking his head and stepping next to you. One glance downward told you that things were back under control, and this was confirmed as Logan pulled you close, kissing the side of your head. “You’re the fucking worst.” But he wasn’t mad, and though your face was bright red, you glanced up at Mark, who was grinning. At least they understand. Within a few minutes - both images sent - the group of you were walking back toward Main Street, which was crowded with people, most of them headed toward the exits. “Wait a second. Stop.” Logan tugged on your arm, fingers closing around your elbow. “Look.” He raised his arm and pointed at one of the vendors, who was holding a large bunch of balloons - most of which were brightly lit, the interior Mickey-shaped portion in red, white or green. “Didn’t you say that you wanted a picture holding them?”

“Logan, I said that like two years ago, when we were -”

“Yeah, I know. It was before we lived together.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well? What are you waiting for?” You shook your head, pressing your lips together.

“Logan, it’s silly, it’s just -” But he cocked his head to the side, waiting, until you finally gave in and started walking toward the vendor. You waited in line, Emily joining you at Logan’s insistence and when you made it to the front of the line, you smiled. “I was just hoping I could get a picture with the…” The vendor smiled back at you, motioning for you to wrap your hand around the ribbons attached to the balloons before she slid her hand further down, giving herself room to back out of the picture.

“Wait, she can’t hold them?” Logan questioned the vendor, who shook her head, explaining that she had to keep ahold of them just in case. “Then I’ll buy ‘em.” Logan shrugged, reaching for his back pocket. “All of them.” What?

“Logan, that’s not… no way, we don’t need fifty....” But he was already handing the woman his credit card while she counted the individual strings, giving him a total, the amount not even phasing him. As soon as the transaction had been completed, the woman let go of the strings and you took possession of the balloons, Logan stepping back and raising his phone as you posed, the smile on your face giant. Even after a full year of marriage - three years of being with Logan, he was still finding ways to surprise you, ways to make the things you didn’t vocalize happen. You weren’t used to having his endlessly disposable income, and knew you never would be… but Logan, even when he spoiled you, didn’t make it a huge deal. It was just another thing to him, something that he wanted to and could do, so he did it. Oh, Lo. Your picture taken, you handed the bunch of balloons to Emily, letting her parents take a few shots of her before she handed the balloons back to you. “Ok, Logan, what do we…” You took a deep breath, making your decision and separating two of the balloons from the bunch and handing the strings to Emily. “One for me, one for you.” She nodded, stepping back toward her parents while you turned back to Logan.

“Alright, what are you going to…” He paused, seeing the look on your face and lowered his head, grinning. “That’s fine.” With a grin of your own, you turned back to the employee, holding the bunch of balloons out to her. Merry Christmas.

“Here.” She looked confused, frowning. “Give them away.” The young woman’s jaw dropping, she reached back for the ribbons, holding them tightly in her fist. “Hand them out ‘til they’re gone.” With a nod, you turned away from the woman, reaching for Logan’s hand. “Alright, Lo. Let’s go.” The smell of gingerbread followed you out of the park, the five of you separating on the plaza while you and Logan waited for your hotel shuttle and the other three walked toward theirs, the balloons bobbing above Emily’s head as they got further away. “You ready to get back, Logan?” His arm was around your shoulders, both of yours wrapped around his midsection as you waited for your ride with a small group of people. “It’s been a long day.”

“It has,” he agreed, inhaling deeply. “And you’ve been teasing me all day.” Though his tone was conversational, you caught the longing in it, the promise. “It’s time to repay the favor.” As the shuttle pulled up, you felt yourself shiver - but it wasn’t from the cold. I’m gonna hold you to that, Logan.

---

The ride back to the hotel seemed even longer than the one to the park, you again sitting on Logan’s lap, his chin tucked back against your shoulder. He took a picture of the two of you in that pose, his eyes as dark as you’d ever seen them in the artificial lighting of the shuttle but both of you looking as happy as possible. He’d posted it to his account within minutes of taking it, his fingers flying over the keyboard on his phone and he watched over your shoulder, a laugh leaving your mouth as you read the caption - The first night of Christmas: Disney with Mrs. Delos - and felt him tighten his arms around you.

You barely registered the walk through the hotel lobby and the elevator ride up to your room, but you were acutely aware of Logan’s hand flat on your back beneath your hoodie, the way he pushed you forward, urging you back to the room as quickly as possible. He had his key in the slot before you could even reach for yours, the door opening inward as you re-entered the room you’d left so many hours before, you kicking your shoes off. “Clothes off,” he whispered as his lips latched onto your neck from behind, the quiet click of the door loud in the otherwise silent room. “Now.” He dropped his hands from your body as you turned to face him, reaching for the hem of your top. “Wait.” Logan reached up, hand reaching for the headband you still wore, pulling it off of your head and tossing it - along with his - onto the chaise against the wall. “Alright. Go ahead.” He winked at you as you pulled your hoodie over your head, dropping it to the floor and stepping back toward Logan, who watched silently.

You ran your hands up his stomach and to his chest, leaning in and kissing your husband’s jaw as he placed his hands on your shoulders, long fingers slipping beneath the straps of your bra. “I’m sorry that I teased you all day, Logan.” You grazed your teeth against his beard, fingers working to undo the buttons of his thermal shirt.

“No, you’re not.” He was speaking quietly, hands moving the straps slowly and deliberately down your arms. “And I’m not, either.” You’re not? “You know me so well, know what buttons to push, what…” He dipped his head down, kissing the top of your shoulder. “What to say to get me goin’.” His lips moved toward your neck, hands dropping from your arms to your waist, your palms flat on his chest. “All I wanted all goddamn day was you, and not bein’ able to act on that?” He groaned, biting down on your skin, which caused you to gasp quietly. “Made me want you more.” His hands tightened on your waist and Logan pulled you closer to him, falling silent.

You turned your head to look up at him, raising one hand to run your fingers through his hair and felt yourself smiling. The urgency was there - you felt it, coursing through your veins, but it was no different than any other day with Logan - you always wanted him, always needed him, and couldn’t imagine ever feeling any different. “You’ve got me, Lo. What now?” He sniffed, running his tongue over his lower lip and sliding one hand up your bare back, fingers catching on the closures of your bra.

“First, I’m gonna help you take this off,” he said before swallowing. “Then I’m gonna step back from you so that I can take -” You rose onto your tiptoes, kissing him hard on the mouth and pulling on his hair. Shut up, Logan. He undid the fastenings with one hand and you felt the material loosen against your chest, sliding down to expose your breasts, but he didn’t break the kiss. You sighed into Logan’s mouth, feeling his tongue moving against yours, fingers digging into your back and waist, just above the top of your jeans. “Little impatient, hmm?” Logan finally pulled away, taking a deep breath. Yes.

“I am, Lo. I just want…” He let go of you, reaching down to pull his own shirt off, the material dropping from his fingers to the floor. He stood in front of you wearing only his jeans and boots, and you shrugged out of your bra and then reached forward, undoing the button on his jeans, hooking your finger into the material and urging him forward. “You, Logan. Don’t make me…” You shook your head, hand moving up from his waist to his chest again, nails dragging over his skin. “Fuck, Logan.” He’s doing this on purpose. Standing up straight, you reached down, undoing the button on your own jeans and pushing them down your hips. “Need to take those pants off, Delos. Boots too.” Tearing your eyes away from him, you removed the rest of your clothing, standing in front of Logan as he did the same.

You watched his long fingers untie the bootlaces, hands pulling them from his feet before he tossed them toward the wall, socks following quickly after. “Look at me.” It was a command, but you didn’t feel like he was forcing you, and you brought your eyes back up to Logan’s, waiting. You glanced down and watched as he removed his boxer briefs and jeans in one movement, pushing them down and then stepping out of them, kicking them away. “We’ve already broken in the bed.” He licked his lips, reaching for you and moving your hair over one shoulder, lowering his mouth to your skin. You felt his tongue tracing along your collarbone, hands moving down your arms and then against your ribs, thumbs stroking over the area beneath your bare breasts. “What’s next?”

He kissed your jaw and you raised both arms, wrapping them around his neck and shoulders to keep him close, lips moving to his ear. “How ‘bout the dresser, Mr. Delos?” Logan groaned, nodding once and his hands dropped back down your body, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you. You tightened your hold on him as he stepped across the room, using one arm to support your weight while he swept things off of the top of the dresser beneath the TV. Heartbeat loud in your ears, you glanced down, watching two cups, a remote, a few cords and some papers scatter to the floor before Logan set you down on the smooth, cool surface, hands balling into fists, knuckles on either side of your body as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

“This works.” He swallowed, nodding. “This is…” Logan kissed you without warning, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and leaning even closer, pushing you backwards so that your shoulders were against the wall next to the flatscreen, though your knees were still bent over the front edge. “Spread your legs.” You did as he requested, Logan’s hands moving to your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh. “All you, Mrs. Delos.” His lips brushed against yours and then so did his tongue, tracing the edge of your lower one. “All you.” You nodded twice, reaching forward with one hand and wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing as you sat up straight, scooting forward and hooking your legs around Logan’s thighs. “Fuck. That’s what I’ve been waitin’ for.”

He was solid and hot in your hand, skin smooth against your palm and as you stroked him, you let out a low whine, appreciating every second of intimacy that you and Logan shared. The first time you’d been with him in the Bahamas, it had been fast and intense, neither of you knowing exactly what to expect. The second time - nearly two and a half months after you’d moved to Los Angeles, you’d taken things slower, Logan’s hands and mouth working over every inch of your body before he’d slid into you. But each time since had been a combination of the two, your bodies seeming to know what the other needed; even the night after finishing your bet in Logan’s dimly lit bedroom in the Delos mansion hadn’t been a frenzied as that first night, but as you ran your thumb over Logan’s tip, hearing him hiss out a breath, you were suddenly desperate for your husband - needing to feel him inside of you without any more delay.

Protection wasn’t necessary - the tiny implant in your arm ensured that - and so you didn’t hesitate in guiding him to where he needed to be, raising your gaze to meet his, Logan’s pupils enlarged as he waited for your next move. You felt him against you and caught your lip between your teeth as you rolled your hips slightly, the muscles in your legs tightening as you pulled Logan closer and inched toward the edge of the dresser in the same movement. “Shit!” He slid into you smoothly despite the lack of foreplay, and as soon as that happened, you felt the mood in the room shift, control passing back to Logan as easily as he’d given it up to you in the first place. His hands slid up toward your body as he rocked his hips into you, fingers curling over your hipbones and then down, ensuring that your body was steady. “Need you to touch me,” he murmured, lips against your neck. “C’mon.” You nodded, uncrossing your legs from behind his and letting them drop, allowing Logan to widen his stance slightly, giving him more power behind his thrusts.

As you brought your hands up to his back, you felt the bite of the edge of the dresser against the back of your legs, Logan’s thrusts becoming more controlled. “Logan.” You moaned his name out, your nails digging into his back as you tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him. He replied with yours in a tone that you rarely heard from him outside of the bedroom, breath warming the dampened skin beneath his lips as he worked his way back up to your face, sucking on the skin that he covered one moment and then biting down on it the next. By the time his mouth was on yours again, you were panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted. He took advantage of your condition, kissing you sloppily as you cried out, one hand gripping your hip tighter, the other letting go and moving to the back of your head, cradling the base of your skull in his long fingers. Jesus.

“Touch me,” he whispered when he pulled away to breathe, his nose wrinkled and his lip curled up, teeth bared. “You couldn’t keep your hands offa me all day, and now -” You groaned, letting go of his back and moving your hands to the front of his body, pushing backwards on his shoulders to create space between you. “Fuck.” He was breathing hard too, the movement of his hips slower as he waited and watched you, eyes hooded. You nodded at him, rolling your neck as you licked your lips, fingers curled as they moved downward, faint red marks trailing behind them on his skin.

“You want this, Lo?” He nodded, glancing down at your hands, at the place where your bodies connected. “Yeah, I know.” Hands still traveling down his chest, you dug in a little harder, leaning forward to kiss his sternum, the feeling of his chest hair different but not unwelcome against your lips, parting them to suck gently on his skin. He hissed again, and your hands reached his abdomen, Logan’s hand tightening on your head and the one on your hip letting go as he ran it back up your side, your entire body shivering beneath his fingertips. You felt how tense his muscles were beneath your fingers, the coarse hair beneath his navel rough against your hands as you looked up at him, lips still pressed against his skin. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, and while you could catch him off guard, you chose to - moving your mouth to one of his nipples and sucking it into your mouth before you bit down.

He cried out, immediately looking down at you again, and as you felt his hips falter for the first time, you pulled your hands and mouth away from his body, leaning back on the dresser and bracing yourself, lips pressed together. Your turn now, Logan. You’re close, I can feel it. The changed angle allowed him to deepen his thrusts, and without worrying about your hands on his skin, you once again wrapped your legs around him, staring up at your husband. Logan’s left hand was pressed against your leg where it joined your body, thumb in the crease of skin, but his right, no longer tangled in your hair, was traveling slowly up your stomach, fingers flat and palm warm. He was entirely focused on his hand’s movement, eyes on his fingers as they approached the bottom of your breasts before diverting from the center of your body, pushing one breast up and allowing his thumb to swipe over the fullest part, lingering against the peaked nipple. Fuck, Logan. You closed your eyes at the contact, nodding your head and without thinking, removed one hand from the dresser, bringing it to the apex of your thighs. I need… I’m… “Stop.” Logan spoke one word and your hand froze just above your skin, eyes snapping back to his. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Lo, I -” He let go of your chest, sliding his hand back down your stomach and shook his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ before he touched you, knuckles pushing against your skin as his thumb moved slowly against you, forcing your eyes closed. He knew what he was doing - Logan always did, applying pressure as you once again dropped your hand, gripping the edge of the dresser hard. “Logan, please, I -” You swallowed, opening your eyes again and looking up at him, unsure of what you wanted to say. “Logan, you -”

He pulled out of you almost completely at the same time as he sped up the movement of his finger - catching you off guard, and with one final, deep thrust, Logan gripped your hip tighter, sending you over the edge. You fought to keep your eyes open, body tensing and then relaxing, your weight shifting back onto your elbows as your muscles contracted around him, toes curling. You moaned loudly, eyes locked on Logan and you nodded twice, urging him on with the tightening of your legs, even though you were sensitive almost to the point of overstimulation. He continued moving his hips, dropping his right hand away from your body and covering your left with it, fingers falling between yours easily. You gripped his hand, his name leaving your lips as his hips met yours - over and over, and you forced yourself to sit partially up, reaching for him and pressing your hand against his chest. Come on, Lo. He opened his eyes to look at you, and you watched as he scanned your face, taking in your flushed skin and damp brow, the parting of your lips and the way you were looking at him, and that’s all it took - Logan’s nose wrinkled, his eyes closed and you felt warmth inside of you as he came, hips still moving - but much less fluidly. “Oh, shit.”

His head drooping down toward his chest, Logan took a large breath, his grip on your hand relaxing, and your hand dropped from his chest as you sat up all the way, legs falling from Logan’s body to rest against the wooden dresser. “Hey, Lo.” You spoke quietly, bringing the hand that had been on his chest up to the side of his face, stroking his cheek with the back of one finger. “You alright?” He nodded, still looking down, and without speaking, he shifted his hips, pulling out of you with a low hum. “Let me get you a towel.” You leaned in, kissing him gently and he stepped to the side, allowing you to hop off of the dresser and head for the bathroom on still-unsteady legs. You wet a towel for him and then one for yourself, walking back into the bedroom and handing it to Logan, before you busied yourself, cleaning up your own skin and then turning around to wipe down the dresser, too.

“Here.” You glanced over your shoulder at Logan, who was holding out his towel to you, a smile on his face. “I know you’re goin’ back in there.” Of course you do. Taking the damp cloth from his hand, you winked at him and then went back into the bathroom, taking your time getting ready for bed - using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, washing your face - and by the time you walked back out into the bedroom, Logan had stood up from the edge of the bed, boxer briefs pulled back on. “I’ll be right back, alright?” You nodded and Logan leaned down to kiss you on the mouth - taking his time, the fingers of one hand trailing up your spine - before he, too disappeared into the bathroom.

You plugged both of your phones in to charge and pulled one of Logan’s t-shirts on to sleep in, not bothering with pants or underwear, and then crawled into bed, a satisfied smile on your face as you laid back against the pillows. Logan took much less time in the bathroom than you did, and after a quick detour to his overnight bag, he sat down next to you on the bed, reaching over with his left hand to take yours. What’s happening? “Logan?” He didn’t say anything, using his thumb to turn your engagement and wedding bands, and you sat up, suddenly worried. “Logan, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and looking at you, blinking. “I have something for you.” What? You cocked your head, noticing for the first time that Logan was holding a small box in the hand that wasn’t holding yours. What’s… “Logan, what is that?” That looks like… He laughed, lifting the hand and holding the box up in front of your face. “Logan Delos…”

“It’s not what you think, I promise. Take it.” You did, pulling your hand away from his so that you could open it. It is what I thought it was, what are you… “I was talking to Juliet last week.” Logan cleared his throat as you used two fingers to pull the silicone ring out of the box, the shiny bronzed color gleaming even in the low light. “She said you told her that you were… worried about spending three weeks at the beach with your other rings.” You groaned quietly. Why would she tell him that. “So… I bought you another ring.” You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “I get it, I really do. Those rings mean a lot to you, and I don’t want you to… spend the whole trip worrying about them, or looking for excuses to take them off so nothing happens to ‘em.” Logan held his hand out and you placed the new ring into it, finally looking up at your husband. “But I’m not going weeks without you wearin’ anything on your finger.” You bit back a laugh at the serious look on his face. “I married you three times, and I want you to have a ring, so… this is my solution.”

“Logan, I would have worn them, I just…” He shook his head, reaching for your left hand and pulled all three rings off in one movement, leaning over and setting them on the bedside table. Your hand felt light without them - the missing weight a strange feeling - but as Logan slipped the new band onto your finger, you smiled. It’s perfect. “Logan, it…” You held your hand up in front of your face, feeling your smile grow. “That’s perfect.”

“It’s not the same, but it works.” He nodded, smiling too, and you felt your heart thumping in your chest as you looked at Logan. He just wants people to know I’m his. “We’ll put the other ones in the safe when we get home tomorrow, this one too,” he said, taking your right hand in his and squeezing the ends of your fingers for emphasis. “But as soon as we get -”

“Logan, I don’t care what I have on my finger. I’m your wife, and that’s not going to change.” You grinned at him, reaching over and pulling your rings off of the table, putting them back on your finger along with the silicone one. “Besides, all these diamonds didn’t seem to deter anyone today, maybe something simple will do -” But you were cut off as Logan tackled you backwards, his weight settling on top of you as he buried his face in your neck, shaking his head back and forth, his fingers digging into your sides as he tickled you. You laughed out loud as you felt his beard scratching against your skin, both hands going into his hair and tugging, back arching off of the bed. “Logan, come on!” He laughed too, finally pulling away and looking down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Nothin’ simple about the way I feel about you, and you know that.” Logan swallowed, the look in his eyes serious. “None of them matter.” You nodded, relaxing into the mattress as Logan leaned down, kissing you again. “None of ‘em ever mattered.” You lost yourself in the kiss, and when Logan finally pulled back, rolling off of you and reaching over to turn the light off, you sighed, turning onto your side and facing him.

“Thank you for today, Logan.” He settled in next to you, his hand moving up to push the hair away from your face. “It was the best way to start this vacation.” Logan nodded, his eyes moving over your face. “I hope that you had fun, even though I’m not a Disney princess…” He groaned, shaking his head and rolling onto his back, one hand covering his eyes. One more time, Delos. “But I’m not done with you yet, Lo.” He peeked at you through his fingers and you winked at him again, moving so that you were straddling his hips, hands flat against his chest. “You did just give me another ring, and that’s enough reason to -”

He groaned again and cut you off with a kiss, using both hands to pull you down and against him, but you felt him smiling against your lips, his hips lifting off of the bed to meet yours. Feels like you’re not too mad at me, Logan…

---

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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827

Have you ever listened to the same song on repeat for hours on end? YESSSSS. I think the worst-ever case of this for me was with Louis Tomlinson’s Back To You...that song still slaps in 2020 and I’d still listen the shit out of it, honestly. Do you like staying in hotels? As long as they’re four- or five-star hotels (or three-star in the province, cause I know they can’t always provide the same facilities Manila hotels can) then yeah. Given that my parents work in the hotel/cruise ship industry, you can say I was born to have high expectations of hotels lol. I’m super particular about them and if our room has even one TV channel that looks wonky, I would start thinking it’s not a good enough hotel. Are musicals interesting or boring? Boring, for me. I don’t like how the songs sound. What is your favorite scent of incense? (If you burn it) Incense gives me headaches lol. Have you ever played a travel sport? What’s...a travel sport...?

Where do you normally hang out on the weekends? At home, mostly. My weekdays are hectic, so I cherish my time home on weekends. On Sundays my family will go out for lunch at a mall we feel like going to for that day. Can you tune a guitar by ear or do you need a tuner? I’d rather have someone else tune it because I don’t know the first thing about guitars. Do you like love songs? Some hit, some miss. I like ones that are more subtle...kinda like Troye Sivan’s for him. or Hozier’s Like Real People Do. Would you rather drink 7Up or Sprite? Pass. Hate soda.

Don't you hate it when your eyes burn? I don’t hate it; it just gets really uncomfortable when it happens, like when I’m about to cry but I’m not allowed to, so the tears just kinda hang around inside my eyes. Do you ever get letters in the mail anymore? No. If we got something, it’s usually bills or something my dad ordered off the internet. What is your favorite song as of right now? I don’t have any at the moment. Lo-fi in general hits the spot. Have you ever sex texted? Only in the first year of our relationship. I really tried to get into it, but I just can’t type out filthy stuff lmao. It’s so weird to me, but I don’t judge others who sext. What's the last concert you attended and was it good? Paramore. Of course it was, they’re Paramore. Going into the show I was worried about being alone but it turned out to be so much fun. I wish someone told me earlier that no one gives a shit about you in concerts, and you can dance however you want, wear whatever you want, go solo if you want, etc. because I worried for nothing. When's the last time you went out of state? March 2019 when we went to Bicol.

Did you know that contact solution has salt in it? No, because I don’t use those. Nice trivia though, thanks! Have you ever been to a 311 concert? Nope, I’m afraid I don’t even know who they are. Are you in love? Sure. What was your favorite TV show last year? This time last year I was focused on my internship and didn’t have time to watch shows...I was definitely into Friends though, as always. Would you know who to talk to if you wanted weed? Yup. Have you ever worn leather? Leather shoes for my old school, yep. What is your favorite Beatles song? I don’t have any. I like the guitar melody on Blackbird though. What is your greatest fear? On a grand scale, failure and rejection. If we’re talking everyday fears, I’d go with cockroaches. When is the last time you got wasted? Couple of weeks ago. I had soju and my body didn’t take it too well that night haha. I didn’t get to finish the bottle and only drank up the rest of it a few nights ago, but by then I was able to handle it. If you could kiss anyone right now, who would it be? My girlfriend. What do people typically label you as? You’d have to ask them. I don’t keep track. Have you ever used caffeinated lotion? Didn’t even know those existed, wtfreak? No I haven’t. What perfume do you wear? Heat Rush. When is the last time you hooked up with someone? Do you smell good right now? I doubt it, but I don’t stink either. I’ll shower soon. What is your favorite energy drink? I don’t trust energy drinks lol, the commercials hype them up so much and they look so dangerous. Have you ever been to Hooters before? No, because we don’t have Hooters here. If you could right now, where would you move to? Canada, in a heartbeat. They have everything my country doesn’t, and they have a sizable Filipino community there too so I wouldn’t have to worry about missing ‘home’ too much. What is your favorite thing about winter? I’d answer this if we actually had winter, but that’s not the case . When's the last time you tripped? (Literally or, you know) Lol. It was probably within the last week; I’m quite clumsy. Are you logged onto myspace right now? No. Can you touch your toes? Yes, but only for a few seconds. What would you say is the best feeling in the world? I can think of one thing but I’m not saying that on here lol Has your high school ever been to state for football? This whole question just did not make sense for my Filipino ass. Do you hate freshmen? If they act entitled, yes. Last question, was this survey okay? Yeah, but the “hey I live in America and think everyone else has the same stuff we do!” references were a tad bit irritating.

#survey #surveys

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minijenn · 5 years ago

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Universe Falls Chapter 74

Merry Early Christmas, ya’ll! Here’s an early present for you, UF’s first musical chapter! As fun as this was to work on, its honestly just... ok. Some things about it could be better but eh I was already taking way too long to get it done in the first place so I figured might as well get it out of the way. Either way, I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/189362205964/universe-falls-chapter-73

***

Chapter 74: Mr. Greg

PUJV'S ERQ AAMVF XF DHHNT HL XTI GADW DCM NEUR CIVH VPBQ AUPC AWZCGL JEEX ZT'D GQVX, GX'E SMEC, LV'A YGRUWYEO, LV'A ZMRQ, MK'S ZYGZ BQR'F MK, WSB EIG'R XTIP MZYG WG?

"From the moment the meat hits the flame, my stomach is growling without any shame!"

"And I know in my gut, it's been worth the $5.95!"

"Would you like a burger? From Pepe's Burgers?"

As the catchy, all too familiar jingle brought the commercial to an end, the TV buzzed to static once again, though that static was soon filled in by the flood of reactions to the ad itself.

"Whoa! Your song is on TV!" Steven exclaimed, looking to his father absolutely starstruck as he sat alongside the twins.

"Yeah, but is it just me or was there something sorta… different about it this time around?" Mabel wondered, curious.

"The words, Mabel, it was the words," Dipper pointed out, rather deadpan.

"Nah, that wasn't it."

"Well, I'll hand it to ya, Greg," Stan remarked, arms crossed as he leaned against the side of the van. "Looks like one of your songs finally accomplished something after all these years: it made me want a burger!"

The conman let out a joking laugh at this, one that Greg joined in on, just a bit more good-naturedly. "Ah, well, that wasn't the only thing it accomplished. You guys remember my old manager, Marty, right? Well, turns out he sold my song as a burger jingle. He sent me a letter explaining the whole thing, and included in that letter was this." The former rock star pulled a small slip of paper out his pocket, presenting it to the others. At first, none of them were really sure what it was until Stan happened to be the first to notice the one, followed by a very lengthy string of zeros, written on it. Topped off by a dollar sign, of all things.

"No," the conman gasped, eyes wide as he took the check to look over it himself. "No way… G-Greg, i-is… is this real?"

"Sure is," Greg nodded, grinning. "I honestly didn't believe it myself at first but it's true. Guess I'm filthy stinkin' rich now! Ten million big ones for something I wrote years ago! Crazy how things work out, huh? And-uh, Mr. Pines? Are you ok?"

Everyone turned to look at Stan, who was obviously beside himself with glee based on the massive grin on his face as he held onto Greg's check as if it were the most precious thing in the world. And, based on how much money it actually was worth, it might as well have been. "Greg," he began, his tone uncharacteristically pleasant and saccharine. "Have I ever told you that you were the best employee I've ever had?"

"Uh… no?" Greg raised a confused eyebrow. "But… thanks?"

"But Grunkle Stan, what about Soos and Wendy?" Mabel asked.

"This isn't about them, pumpkin, it's about Greg and his millions-o-of great qualities, that is!" Stan quickly saved himself with a tight laugh as he waved the check around. "L-like his generosity for instance! Always so giving and selfless. In fact, I'm sure that if you found a worthwhile charity or, oh, I dunno, former boss of yours to donate a few hundred or thousand or hundred thousand to, then you wouldn't hesitate, right?"

"Gee, Mr. Pines," Greg smirked knowingly as he finally took his check back from the conman. "You wouldn't happen to have anyone in mind, would you?"

"Well…" Stan began quite leadingly.

"Oh please, Stan, can't you think about anything other than money for five minutes?" Pearl finally spoke up, sending the conman a critical glance.

"Uh, I would, Pearl, if there was anything else worth thinkin' about," Stan shot back with a smug grin.

Pearl simply ignored him, rolling her eyes as she took another look at the burger commercial playing out on the TV. "I still don't understand…" she said, confused. "What exactly is this?"

"You know when Rose came to my concert?" Greg began with a wide grin. "The night we met? I was playing this song!"

"...This is what did it?" Pearl asked, baffled. "Burgers?"

"It wasn't about burgers back then," Greg clarified. "But she probably would have liked this too, right?"

"...She would have loved it…" the white Gem sighed, defeated as she turned to walk to the far side of the van.

Likewise, Greg also let out something of a dejected sigh as he turned the TV off, though none of the others really seemed to notice. "So what are you going to do with all that money, Mr. Universe?" Dipper asked, curious.

"Oh! I know!" Mabel enthusiastically raised her hand. "You could buy a swimming pool and then buy another swimming pool to put inside it and fill that swimming pool with jelly beans! Or you could buy a pet monkey and a fancy tuxedo for him to wear! Or-or… a rocket ship piloted by your pet monkey, with a jelly bean filled swimming pool inside another swimming pool to take you to your own personal planet!"

"Geez, Mabel, reign it back a bit, will ya?" Stan remarked, crossing his arms. "Besides, I thought we already established that Greg was gonna donate most of that money to me-I mean, a charitable cause. Yeah, there we go."

"Heh, well, you guys have some pretty… interesting ideas there," Greg said with a small smile. "But to be honest… I'm not really sure what I'm gonna do with the money."

Despite the bewildered looks the others gave him at this admission, nonetheless the former rock star took a seat in the back of his van, pulling out his guitar to strum a simple, relaxing tune. One that he was more than happy to sing along with.

"Bright sunny day, don't cost nothin'. Light summer breeze, don't cost nothin'. What do I do with all this money? When the only thing I want is you?" he smiled to his son in particular, who instantly perked up to hear one of his father's classic, off the cuff songs.

"Palling around, don't cost nothin'. Singing a song, don't cost nothin'. How do I spend all this money? I'd rather just spend time with you."

"You could buy a house," Steven piped up, offering suggestions through song himself. "And a car."

"I guess that I can, but I've already got a van," Greg noted, nodding back to said van, a loyal, longtime vehicle he had no interest in replacing any time soon. "I could put you through college."

"But I'm with the Gems all the time," the young Gem pointed out with a shrug.

"...Or I could buy you all the finest courses online."

"What if we took a trip?" Steven ventured after a moment or two of thought.

"Do you think?" the former rock star inquired, intrigued by this suggestion.

The young Gem nodded. "We could go somewhere new! We could take a vacation, and you guys could come too!" he finished, smiling brightly to Stan and the twins as they listened in.

"Woo! Yeah! Vacation!" Mabel cheered, immediately excited by the prospect. "I've been dying to get away and see somewhere new!"

"Mabel, we've just spent the past several weeks on end away at the barn," Dipper pointed out, reigning his sister's zeal in with a small laugh.

"Yeah, but we were there to work," Mabel countered. "This trip is gonna be for fun! Right, Grunkle Stan?"

"Hey, if Greg's payin', I'm all for it," Stan remarked. "What do ya say, Greg? Tropical cruise to the Bahamas? Or are you more of a luxury beach house in the Keys sorta guy?"

"Hm…" Greg took a moment to think over these vacation ideas, before he came up with a suggestion all his own. "I know a place that's always exciting! The shows and the sights and the lights that are blinding!" the former rock star's tempo picked up from his previous song as he rummaged through the back of his van for a postcard featuring his chosen destination. "Emerald City! I'm talkin' Emerald City!"

The kids exchanged an excited glance at this, immediately taken by the idea of venturing out to the famously beautiful northern city. Still, Greg sold the prospect of the trip to them even more as he jumped out of the back of the van, his upbeat tune continuing all the while. "The streets and the sounds and the buildings heightening! A place that's so bright it's like clear, white lightning! Emerald City! Let's go to Emerald City!"

This momentum continued as Greg and Steven began leading the way up to the temple so the young Gem could start packing for the trip. The twins joined in on this energy as they followed, with Mabel dragging a much more begrudging Stan along with them.

"I know a place that's always exciting," Greg began a refrain of his first verse as the group burst into the house, startling Pearl in the process as she stood near the kitchen. "The shows and the sights and the lights that are blinding!"

"We don't need money, but it could be funny," Steven harmonized under his father's melody, quickly throwing his things into his hot dog duffel bag.

"The streets and the sounds and the buildings heightening!"

"So let's go today-"

"A place that's so bright it's like clear, white lightning!"

"Just point me the way to-"

"Emerald City!" Steven and Greg finished together, with the young Gem bringing both Dipper and Mabel into this bold final lyric. Though perhaps not the final lyric as Steven tacked one more onto it at the last second. "And let's bring Pearl!"

"W-what?" Greg balked, caught off guard by the idea.

"Ugh, kid, what's wrong with you?" Stan scowled. "I thought the whole point of this trip was to skip town and have fun. And everybody knows Pearl doesn't know the meaning of the word fun."

"Hey! I do too know what 'fun' is!" Pearl protested, offended. "Why, just yesterday, I had an exceptional un time sorting and organizing every single pot, plate, and utensil in this kitchen. And if that's not fun, then I don't know what is."

"...Well then, I stand corrected," Stan said, absolutely deadpan.

"Aw, you should come with us to Emerald City, Pearl!" Mabel said, offering a bright smile to the white Gem. "I heard there's this magical wizard there, and to get there, you have to drive on this really pretty yellow brick road. Not sure how great that is for your tires, but still, it sounds really cool."

"That's a different Emerald City, Mabel," Dipper pointed out dryly.

"Wait… you mean there's more than one?!"

"Um… still, you gotta come with us, Pearl!" Steven made another attempt at convincing the white Gem. "You always work so hard, keeping the Earth safe, keeping the house clean; you deserve a vacation!"

"Er… I don't know, Steven…" Pearl frowned, clearly uncomfortably as she turned away slightly. "Past experiences have taught me that three is a crowd…"

The young Gem was rather confused by this, at least until his father interjected in an equally uncertain whisper. "Steven, me and Pearl haven't gotten along that well, since… uh, well, since I started dating your mother." Greg frowned, casting a brief, bittersweet glance back at the portrait of the aforementioned pink Gem hanging over the door. Almost as if she was still watching, even now that she was gone.

"Oh, come on," Steven pouted earnestly. "We're all one big family! So this will be a great family vacation! Featuring the Universes," he grinned as he wrapped an arm around his dad's shoulder before nodding over to the twins and Stan. "The Pines, uh… Pearl. And don't forget Mom!"

Greg and Pearl in particular flinched as Steven pulled his shirt up a bit to reveal his Gem. Or rather, what had once been Rose's Gem.

Pearl was still clearly hesitant, taking in a sharp hiss through her teeth as she exchanged a rather uneasy glance with the former rock star, neither of them really sure how to feel about this situation. Ultimately though, the white Gem folded upon taking another look at Steven's pleading expression, one that was accompanied by similar looks from both Mabel and Dipper alike. And under that sort of pressure, how could she even hope to resist? "Oh, alright…" she sighed begrudgingly. "I… I'll come…"

"Yes!" Steven and Mabel cheered in delighted unison, though as they did, Dipper happened to consider something neither of them had.

"Wait, so if this is a 'family' vacation," he began thoughtfully. "Then shouldn't Great Uncle Ford come with us too?"

"Oh yeah!" Mabel exclaimed. "It can't be a Universe/Pines family vacation without Grunkle Ford coming along! It just wouldn't be complete!"

"Uh, yeah, it would!" Stan interjected somewhat harshly. "Who says we need Ford to come with us? Heck, he'd be an even bigger killjoy than Pearl's gonna end up being on this trip."

"Stan!" Pearl huffed, annoyed, though the conman ignored her as he continued.

"Anyway, he's not coming," Stan concluded staunchly, stubbornly. "And that's final."

"But Grunkle Stan, this is a family trip," Mabel argued.

"And Great Uncle Ford is just as much a part of the family as any of us are," Dipper added much more firmly.

"Oh yeah," the conman scowled bitterly. "Well if he's really a 'part of this family' then why doesn't he ever act like it?"

Stan didn't give either of the younger twins a chance to respond as he gruffly turned on his heel and walked out of the house without another word. A somewhat awkward air filled the room at this, at least until Greg filled it with an apologetic frown. "Aw, sorry, kids. I guess it's just gonna be the six of us heading to Emerald City, huh?"

"Wrong," Steven spoke up, placing a reassuring hand on both of the rather dejected twins' shoulders. He offered them both a kind smile, one that was more than enough to tell them that he was going to help them bring their entire family together on this trip, no matter what it took. "It's gonna be seven."

"No. Absolutely not."

Steven, Dipper, and Mabel barely managed to hold back a shared sigh of disappointment upon hearing Ford's outright rejection of their proposal, one that came the moment they so much as mentioned Stan would be coming along on the trip.

"But Grunkle Ford, Emerald City is gonna be great!" Mabel urged, stopping the author in his tracks as he moved about his study by grabbing onto the edge of his coat. "We'll have an adventure in self-discovery and melt a witch with a bucket of water and sing a whole bunch of songs! It's gonna be so much fun!"

"Again, Mabel, that's the wrong Emerald City you're talking about," Dipper corrected, though he interjected once more after a beat of thought. "Well, aside from the songs part, I guess. This is a musical after all."

"Well then, you children are more than welcome to go and have a marvelous time," Ford remarked dismissively as he reclaimed the edge of his coat. "But I won't be joining you. I'm afraid I have far too much to catch up on here and besides, I have no interest whatsoever in going anywhere with-" The author stopped short, sparing a glance down at the trio of kids before he decided to cap his statement off on a seemingly different statement altogether. "I-I… I'd simply rather not go. I'm sorry."

While the twins exchanged a dejected glance at this, Steven wasn't about to give up so easily. "But Mr. Ford…" the young Gem began leadingly, grinning to the twins beside him to tip them off to his plan. His musical plan. "Wouldn't you like-a chance to escape and just break from that boring old routine?" Steven began, taking on a bright, optimistic melody, one that Mabel and Dipper were both quick to catch onto with their own additions.

"Wouldn't you like-a chance to go where you know there are things you've never seen?" Mabel sang brightly, offering the author a convincing grin.

"Wouldn't you like-to explore so much more than you ever have before?" Dipper added trying his best to match Steven and Mabel's enthusiasm.

"Cause wouldn't you like a chance to get away?!" all three kids harmonized, capping their first verse off well and aptly confusing Ford in the process.

"Why are you three singing?" the author asked, bewildered.

"Cause like Dipper said, it's a musical!" Steven grinned, though even so, Ford was still absolutely lost.

"...What? "

"Wouldn't you like-to try something new with a few of your favorite friends?" Mabel kicked off the next verse, slipping to the still-confounded author's side as Dipper did the same.

"Wouldn't you like-to be free, to go out and about to find out what's waiting 'round the bend?" he turned in with a hopeful shrug as Steven came in to finish off another verse.

"Wouldn't you like-to go searching and find everything you're looking for?"

"Cause wouldn't you like a chance to get away?!" the trio finished off in unison once more, briefly giving Ford another short-lived attempt at cutting through the song once again.

"Now, children, I-"

"Wouldn't you like-" Mabel interrupted, as vibrantly as ever. "An adventure with friends where excitement never ends?"

"Wouldn't you like-" Steven sang with a warm, brimming grin. "To go see what the world's all about, see what's flashy and brand new?"

"Wouldn't you like-" Dipper chimed in, joining Steven and Mabel as they came together for the song's grand finale. "To check out what you've missed while you gone for so long?"

"Cause wouldn't you like-" all three of the kids sang before splitting off to build up towards the end.

"Wouldn't you like-"

"Wouldn't you like…."

"A chance to get away!?" they all finished, presenting their case to the author with matching, earnest, almost pleading smiles. Smiles that even Ford was powerless to say no to.

So instead, he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he finally gave in. "Fine. I… suppose I can spare a night away from my research." The author cracked a small, somewhat wry smile as Steven, Dipper, and Mabel all let out a shared, excited gasp. "But only because you kids asked in such a… unique way."

"Well, I've learned from experience that when in doubt, nothing works better than a song," Steven shrugged with a small laugh, one that Dipper and Mabel readily joined in on before they sang one final, triumphant refrain of their successful song.

"Now it's time to take that chance and get away!"

It was quite a lengthy drive in Greg's relatively packed van to get all the way up to Emerald City, though as the kids spotted the sparkling metropolis on the horizon, it soon became apparent that it was worth the trip. Emerald City certainly lived up to its glamorous reputation, with towering skyscrapers glittering against the deep night sky, casting an almost ethereal reflection upon the vast lakes and rivers and bays that surrounded it. These clean-cut, futuristic buildings became even more impressive up close as the van winded through its narrow, maze-like streets, allowing everyone a grand tour of the town, at least until they pulled up to their destination.

According to a brief internet search, Le Hotel was the fanciest, ritziest hotel Emerald City had to offer. And indeed, it fit the bill as it towered high as one of the city's tallest buildings, elegant and refined from the outside in as its grand lobby carried the same radiant theme. The group entered with various levels of amazement towards this sophisticated atmosphere, even if they did look quite a bit out of place in that atmosphere given their relatively normal attire and attitude. Even as Greg stepped up to the check-in counter, the clerk simply looked over him with a brief, haughty scoff. His manner hardly changed as the former rock star confidently presented him with his new business card, which colorfully read "Greg Universe: Bazillionaire". However, it was only as Steven peered over the edge of the counter and plopped down one of the many large stacks of cash his father had brought along that the mood of the entire hotel seemed to change. Staff passing by stopped dead in their tracks, the clerk eyed the money being presented to him with obvious shock, and all the while Greg stood by, grinning to the others about the upscale experience they were about to receive.

An experience that of course, kicked off with a song.

"Hey, shake a leg!" the clerk called the rest of the staff, who chimed in just as enthusiastically.

"Hey, shake a leg!"

"It's Mr. Greg!"

"And he's here to spend his dough all over town!"

At this, the staff mobilized efficiently, quite literally sweeping the Universe, Pines, and Pearl up to carry them off to the hotel's fine, five star restaurant. Without any hesitation, they sat them all down at the finest table in the center of the banquet hall, serving up the finest (most expensive) meal they had to offer.

"He's got the bucks!" the staff sang once again as Greg blithely answered them.

"I've got the bucks!"

"It's all deluxe."

"It's all deluxe!" Greg agreed, much to the excitement of not just the kids, but Stan in particular as he greedily began to tear into the massive, steaming steak placed in front of him. "When you're dining out with me, it's the finest steak and brie." The former rock star was clearly caught up in the somewhat manic, celebratory mood as he hopped up onto the table, catching the others off guard while he began to dance. "And if I break a table, it ain't no-whoa!" Inevitably, Greg did break the table, splitting it clean in half as he fell and knocked nearly all of the food off of it, save for Stan's steak, which the conman had wisely managed to save just in the nick of time. An awkward beat of silence passed at this as the surrounding staff looked to Greg expectantly, but all the same, the former rock star simply laughed his faux pas off as he pulled yet another large bill out of his pocket and handed it to the clerk. "Just bill it to my bank."

"A hundred bucks?!" the clerk exclaimed, amazed. "Gee, thanks!"

Before anyone had a chance to finish up their meals, the staff members led them off again, this time out of the restaurant and towards the elevator, which carried them all the way up to the building's hundredth floor. Its penthouse suite.

Said suite certainly rivaled the decadence and splendor of anything any of them had seen thus far. It was a massive complex, with several rooms, enough for everyone, all connected to the grand main room, which was completed by its very own full-sized swimming pool and slide. However, the lavish accommodations weren't the only surprise the hotel staff had in store. For after a quick round of measurements, they had managed to outfit everyone, kids and adults alike, in matching fine tuxedos and top hats, garbing them all in a look befitting the wealth they were all enjoying.

As elegantly clad as they now were, Greg and the kids alike didn't waste any time in indulging in all the penthouse had to offer, namely, its massive pool. Even despite the expensive, top line suits and ties, they all jumped right in, Greg taking the slide as Steven and Mabel canonballed into the deep end without any second thoughts. Dipper did hesitate for just a moment, that is, until the pair ultimately hopped up out of the water and pulled him right in along with them.

Yet, despite the fun the kids and the former rock star were all clearly having as they quite literally dived right into their vacation, not everyone was joining in. While Stan clearly appreciated his new upscale suit, Ford wasn't as taken with his, particularly the top hat and bow tie and the memories he couldn't help but associate with them.

"Well, these won't be missed," the author frowned, handing both off to the nearest staff member. His brother, on the other hand, gladly touched up his own with a wide, cocky grin, clearly enjoying what was perhaps his first real taste of a life of luxury.

"I could get used to this!" the conman proclaimed, barely even noticing Ford's annoyed scowl at all.

"Of course, you'd find this exciting," he remarked, arms crossed as he glared away.

"Better than your boring old writing," Stan jabbed back, reclaiming the author's top hat and pulling it down over his eyes.

"Would you grow up!?" Ford huffed, frustrated as he tossed the hat aside again.

"You first!" Stan taunted, helping himself to the penthouse's wetbar.

"Is it just me or are they getting worse?" Dipper asked, noticing this exchange from the pool as he exchanged an apprehensive glance with Mabel. Likewise, Steven spotted the obvious tension between the brothers, though that wasn't all he saw as he happened to spot Pearl, lingering quietly near the far side of the pool. Even compared to Stan and Ford, she hadn't engaged in the festivities whatsoever, instead opting to observe alone from the sidelines, seemingly unamused. That is, until Greg and Steven decided to get involved.

While Pearl didn't often change her attire, she was quite surprised to see how nicely her own suit looked on her as the kids came together to convince her to try it on at least. And from the moment she did, she couldn't help but finally join in on the lighthearted spirit of the evening. "I must admit-" she began with a growing smile.

"You must admit," Greg and Steven echoed happily as they posed alongside her.

"It's a perfect fit!" the white Gem grinned, adjusting her top hat gracefully.

"You look great in it!"

"And those fountains I found wasteful," she nodded over to one of the several elegant fountains lining the penthouse. "Are actually quite tasteful! This city's got its charm, unlike that termite-ridden barn. And any time with Steven makes for a delightful evenin'!" She laughed, falling in step alongside the young Gem for a spirited round of tap-dancing.

"You're having fun!" Greg exclaimed, pleasantly surprised.

"More or less," Pearl shrugged, grinning. However, that grin quickly fell the moment the former rock star grabbed her hand to pull her into another dance.

"So dance with me, just say-"

"NO!"

Pearl's stark shout echoed through the lofty halls of the penthouse suite, bringing both the song and the cheery mood to an abrupt end. An air of startled, awkward silence filled in for both instead, one that seemed to grow even more awkward and heavy as all eyes turned to the crestfallen white Gem herself. Pearl flinched, unsure of what to say at first, especially as she met Greg's sad, yet earnest expression. "I-I… I mean…" Ultimately, however, she let out a bitter sigh, turning away from the entire group as she sulked off to some other part of the penthouse just to get away from it all. "Maybe later…"

"Boo!" one of the hotel employees called after her, disappointed. "You ruined the song!"

"Er, uh… sorry, guys," Greg frowned, dispensing a handful of cash out to the staff to compensate them as they took their leave. "Thanks for singing with us."

"W-well, I guess our super fun city vacation could be getting off to a bit of a better start than this, huh?" Mabel asked with a fretful frown.

"Yeah…" Steven sighed, looking off in the direction Pearl had retreated to. "It really could…"

"Aw, don't worry about it, kiddo," Greg reassured his son, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, all while hiding his own lingering regret well. "It's always been this way…"

"Hm… perhaps I should go talk to talk to her, Greg," Ford volunteered thoughtfully. "After all, I think it's safe to say I have just as much experience as you do when it comes to Pearl and this… particular problem…"

The former rock star offered the author a grateful smile at this, catching his drift all too well. "Thanks, Mr. Ford."

"Yeah, go on, Ford, while the rest of us have fun, you and Pearl can have your sad little nerd party of two," Stan remarked with an obviously teasing smirk. "See, kids? I told ya both of them would end up being nothing but a bunch of killjoys on this trip."

"Grunkle Stan-" Dipper began, shaking his head disapprovingly over such a tactless remark.

However, Ford was more than ready to intervene on his own behalf instead. "Oh, so now I'm a killjoy?" the author countered, turning back to face his brother. "Well, forgive me that I have no interest in losing my mind over a bunch of big-city frivolity."

"Tch, obviously," Stan remarked, rolling his eyes. "So if you aren't here for any of that, why'd you even come in the first place? 'Cause as far as I can tell, if ya ain't here to have a good time, then you might as well not even be here in the first place."

For a moment, Ford simply sent the conman a bitter scowl at this, much to the worry of the younger pair of twins as they watched this icy exchange unfold. However, what none of them, not even Stan himself, could have expected was what the author did next. He reached out, his expression completely unreadable as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder… and abruptly shoved him right into the swimming pool behind him.

Ford was the first, and for a long time, only one of the group to break out into a heavy burst of laughter as Stan splashed into the deep end before floundering back up to the surface, completely flustered. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you," the author chuckled, beside himself with amusement, especially as he caught sight of the conman's dumbfounded face. "But I'm certainly having a great time now!"

At this, Dipper and Mabel finally let out a small, shared laugh themselves, one that Greg and Steven slowly joined in on themselves. With the tension in the air finally cleared, Stan couldn't help but crack a small, subtle smirk himself as he pulled himself out of the pull and wrung his hat out in the process. "Alright, fine," he scoffed playfully. "Consider this payback for that time when we were in 6th grade and I pushed ya off the diving board at the public pool."

"Please, Stanley, I'd hardly consider this payback," Ford remarked with a flippant wave of his hand, even though he was still chuckling somewhat. "Especially since you did that right in front of Cathy Crenshaw."

"Aw, c'mon, sixer, you always knew a square like you would have never been able to land a catch like 'Cold-Stone Crenshaw'," Stan jabbed, elbowing his brother wryly.

"True, though at the very least I never struck out with her like you did with Carla McCorkle," Ford retorted just as confidently.

"Hey! I never 'struck out' with Carla!" the conman protested. "It was that stupid hippie and his stupid bellbottom jeans that stole her away from me! I can still remember the day they rocketed out of the Juke Joint without me and she left me behind…"

"Believe me, so can I, seeing as how you wouldn't stop crying about it for at least a week after," Ford said with a knowing smirk. "Who was the 'sad nerd' back then, Stanley?"

"Pfft, you, sixer, 'specially after your dumb 'ol bust of-what was that guy's name again? Tulip? Toyla?"

"Tesla," Ford corrected pointedly.

"Sure, whatever, 'Tesla', fell off the shelf and broke that one night."

"Well, of course I was upset about that, Stanley, it was a collectible!"

"Oh yeah? Well so was Carla McCorkle!"

A beat of silence passed between the brothers at such a bizarre remark, but ultimately, the humor of just how strange it was wasn't lost on either one of them. At the exact same moment, they both burst until yet another round of bombastic laughter, one that was completely warm and genuine, much to the delight of the younger twins observing. As they shared a delighted grin with Steven, the young Gem offered them a supportive thumbs up before gently shoving his father away to offer the family some much-needed privacy.

"Wow! Aren't we all having such a fun time!?" Mabel chimed in with a bright, leading smile. "It's nights like tonight that just make you wanna forget all of the bad stuff back in the past and look ahead to a bright and happy future, don't you guys agree?"

"Try not to be too on the nose there, Mabel…" Dipper warned in a worried whisper. And yet, neither Stan and Ford's bright mood was dampened by this as they instead offered each other a relenting, yet lighthearted grin instead.

"You know… perhaps it does…" Ford said with a humbling sigh, noting his brother's growing relief and excitement. "After all, what else are vacations like this for than for… getting away from it all?"

Needless to say a line like this was more than enough to prompt another song, one that, much to Dipper and Mabel's continually elated surprise at this situation as a whole, Stan ended up starting off. "We came all this way to give us a fresh start," he began on a tune that was fittingly airy and easy. "And now I'm wondering how we even fell apart?"

"You know it's so strange, I can't help but agree," Ford shrugged incredulously. "Maybe its this city air, or maybe it's just me."

"We've been fallin' out for way too long," Stan sang, picking up a hint of an upbeat swing. "So let's forget who's right."

"And forget who's wrong."

"Ok!" Dipper and Mabel chimed in brightly, so, so happy to see their uncles finally begin to repair all that had been broken between them so long ago.

"And here I thought making amends would be our last resort," Ford added, this time gladly accepting the reclaimed tophat his brother was holding out to him.

"But life's too short!" they sang together, back to back as they shared a cordial grin.

"To always feel shut out, forgotten by the brother I used to know," Stan's smile dimmed only somewhat at this, remembering those nearly 40 years of bitter separation, as well as his own countless mistakes along the way that had brought that separation about to begin with.

"Life's too short!"

"To never let the pain and regrets that defined both our pasts just go," Ford did his best to hold back a sigh here, knowing that those regrets were far too many to name. And as heavy of a weight as they were, maybe it was indeed finally time to just let them go altogether.

"Whoaohoh!"

"I never understood," the brothers sang in harmony, both in tune and in spirit as they both came to meet each other halfway for the first time in a very long time. "But now I do! Life's too short-to miss out on a brother like you!"

The duet came to its apparent close with another strong laugh between the brothers, one that more or less solidified the newly-revived warm feelings between them. And as far as both Dipper and Mabel were concerned, considering the tense bitterness that they had always seen between their uncles before, this was more than a welcome change.

"So are things finally, you know, cool between you guys now?" Dipper asked, aptly hopeful.

"Well…"

"You bet they are, kid," Stan interrupted, catching Ford off guard by tossing an arm over his shoulder. "Well, at least they will be once this guy gives me the 'thank you' he's owed me ever since he got back."

"Thank you?" Ford asked, genuinely confused. "For what?"

"Uh, for busting my butt for the past 30 years so I could bring you back from wherever you were, duh," Stan remarked as though it was obvious. "Geez, and I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, sixer."

However, instead of providing the thanks the conman was expecting, the author instead looked to him incredulously, almost as if he was baffled that he'd even bothered to ask for it in the first place. Which, by most accounts, he very much was. "Thank you?" he asked, scoffing right off the bat. "Thank you? Why would I thank you when you were the one who got me sucked into the portal in the first place?!"

"Ugh, that was 30 years ago, Ford!" Stan groaned, annoyed. "You just said so yourself, it's time to finally let that go."

"How can I when you essentially ruined my life?!"

"You ruined your own life!"

This dig clearly struck an all-too painful chord with both of the older twins, calling back far to many agonizing memories from 30 years past to keep any of them straight. At the same time, their niblings exchanged a distraught, desperate glance, realizing that just as quickly as things had started to come together between their uncles, in much of the very same way, they were rapidly starting to fall apart.

"So we make up and hug? That's how your story ends?" Ford began again, his tune much more sharp and harsh than it had been before.

"Uh, yeah, it'll be just like it was," Stan countered, still somewhat hopeful that things could turn themselves around. Even though he knew the line clearly had already been crossed. "Ya know, when we were best friends?"

"So that's your big plan? To force me back in a cage?" the author accused, glaring his brother down coldly.

"Whoa, let's not freak out!" Stan countered, trying his best to ease the growing tension. "Let's get back on the same page-"

"Gee, thanks for telling me that to my face!" Ford's glare turned to a false, sardonic grin as he made an attempt at shoving Stan away. "And showing off your mastery of tact and grace!"

"No way…" the younger twins sighed, realizing just how south things really were going.

"Nevermind how you spilled my secrets, gave a full report!"

"Wait-" Stan attempted to interject, but Ford clearly was having none of it.

"Cause life's too short!"

"There it is! The door you love to slam in my face!" Stan immediately shot back, his tone every bit as fierce as the author's as he spun back around to face him. "You did well there for a spell but now we're back in the same place. Tell me off if you want, but I'm the only one who wasted 30 long years on trying to save you!"

"You can waste whatever you want 'cause I don't care!" Ford huffed crossly, throwing his hands up at his equally disgruntled brother. "You're a fool who opened the portal!"

"That is SO unfair!"

"I swear!" both brothers sang in a harsh, hardened lack of harmony. "I'm through with taking your unshaking brotherly support!"

"Support!"

"Ha! 'Cause life's too short!"

"To let you get off it all so scott free," Stan scowled, his hands in tight, practically shaking fists at his sides. "Without thinking about thanking me!"

"Life's too short!"

"To listen to a reckless fool!" Ford argued hotly, borderline hatefully even. "Who only ever sees what he wants to see!"

"You don't know-"

"You have no idea-"

"What I've been through! Because of you!" they both sang together, hostile and explosive and completely unaware of their niblings' immense dread as they helplessly watched all this unfold.

"Life's too short to waste another minute!"

"Life's too short to even have you in it!"

"Life's too short!" They finished fiercely, abruptly turning on their heels before they both walked away in opposite directions, their stance on each other very clear. And as they parted ways, they left the younger pair of twins behind, awash in the echo of their angry, bitter refrain.

"W-well that… didn't go great…" Mabel frowned, disappointed. "Heck, so far almost none of this vacation has… 'specially not with those two... What are we supposed to do, Dipper?"

Dipper didn't answer right away, instead catching the briefest of glances between Stan and Ford right before they both slipped into their own respective rooms on the opposite side of the penthouse for the night. In the end though, he sighed dejectedly, not even sharing any of the same sparse shreds of hope Mabel was still clinging onto. "I don't know, Mabel…" he admitted quietly before he turned to walk away himself. "I don't know…"

And with that, the younger twins parted ways, if not in words than in sentiment, repeating the very same empty, hopeless verse their uncles had before them.

Despite the upbeat excitement that had been going around as the group pulled into Emerald City earlier that evening, those celebratory feelings were in short supply by the time they all ended up turning in for bed. With the former levity drained from the penthouse in its entirety, its guests soon slipped into slumber instead, with just about everyone taking a separate room in the sizable suite, save for Greg and Steven who ended up bunking together. And it was as they lay on the luxurious king-sized bed, quietly snoozing away, that Pearl quietly entered.

After that initial song, the white Gem had made herself rather scarce, not really wanting to face anyone, the former rock star in particular. However, as she softly stepped into the room to stand alongside the bed, she couldn't help but crack a small, somewhat bittersweet smile, especially as she spotted the bouquet of roses resting on the nightstand beside it. Pearl let out an almost inaudible sigh as she plucked one of the flowers, holding onto it gently as she let her many mingled thoughts and feelings out in a soft, solemn tune.

"I was fine with the men, who would come into her life now and again." Men such as Ford and so many others even before him, all of whom had captivated Rose in some sort of way, be it romantic or otherwise. But all of them had come, in and out of her life in a constant flux all the same, always dwarfed by just how broad and brightly the pink Gem had always shined. "I was fine, 'cause I knew that they didn't really matter… until you…"

The white Gem's smile finally fell as she looked back to Greg, unknowingly slumbering before her. Still clinging onto her rose, she slipped her top hat back on and stepped out onto the nearby balcony, all the while unaware that she had awakened a certain young Gem in the process.

"I was fine when you came and we fought like it was all some silly game." It really had seemed so silly back then, so innocent, just like so many of the others had been. Just another human who would happen to catch Rose's fancy for a while before ultimately being left behind. Another human who would never be able to stay by her side for as long as Pearl herself had. "Over her, who she'd choose. After all those years, I never thought I'd lose…"

"It's over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?" she sang sadly, mournfully almost as the dull lights of the sparkling city seemed to float and drift around her. "It's over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?"

"You won, and she chose you," she admitted, knowing it was the truth. But even if it was the truth and it had been the truth for several years now, that never made facing it any easier. "And she loved you and she's gone… It's over, isn't it, why can't I move on?"

At this, Pearl performed an elegant leap onto the balcony's narrow edge, balancing skillfully between it and the city streets far, far below her. All the same, she danced deftly on that fine line, all the while reveling in both her memories and the grief that came along with them. "War, and glory, reinvention." She smiled discreetly down to the rose still in her hand, knowing just how much 'reinventing' both of them had done in their hidden, yet shared past. "Fusion, freedom, her attention." All things that she adored, that she only ever got a glimpse of, that they only ever had won because of each other. "Out in daylight, my potential, bold, precise, experimental." As she swung her rose out like a blade, once again she was reminded of just how different she had become, just how much she had broken away from everything she had ever been made to do. Then again, she supposed Rose had broken away from all she had once been before too. They both had changed, and the best part of it all? They had changed together.

But that was then. And this was now. And now… Rose was gone.

"Who am I now in this world without her?" Pearl lamented as she lay against the railing, her gaze cast up to the sky as she felt that all too familiar pain ring through her once more. A pain that she never seemed to be able to shake away, no matter how hard she tried. "Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt her." To doubt her decisions, her choices, be they good or bad. To fail to understand what she had done, what she had sacrificed even now, even still, years after the fact when she should have known, she should have understood. But… she didn't. And sometimes, she wondered if she ever really would.

"What does it matter? It's already done!" And it was. Done, finished, over. And yet… in so many ways… it wasn't. At least not to her. "Now I've got to be there for her son!"

Speaking of said son, Pearl didn't even notice as Steven quietly slipped out of bed in the room behind her, listening in on her mournful melody with apt sympathy. All the same, the white Gem slipped back onto the balcony with resignation, looking back to the city as she tried, so hard, to make it past this. To finally move on and just let it go. The only problem was, how could she let go of something as precious as the love she felt for Rose? The love she still felt for her, even now that she wasn't there?

"It's over, isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?" She gripped the railing tightly, shaking her head at her own stubborn foolishness. While she didn't technically have a heart, she knew that if she did, it would be aching beyond measure. And it likely would have for quite some time now. "It's over isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it over?!"

"You won, and she chose you, and she loved you and she's GONE!" On this, she tossed the rose, hoping to release it and everything it represented. And yet, try as she might, those feelings, bitter, painful, and agonizing as they were, still remained, just as they always had. Just as they very well always would.

"It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?" She wondered softly, a stray tear finally streaming down her cheek.

"It's over, isn't it? Why can't I move on?"

Slowly, Pearl turned away from the balcony and back toward the bedroom, only to find that her song had an audience. Steven sat on the near edge of the bed, looking to the white Gem with a sad, sympathetic frown. However, the one Pearl was immediately more concerned and alarmed by was Greg, sitting on the far side of the bed, his back turned away from her and his expression unknown.

"G-Greg!" the white Gem exclaimed, gripping the edges of her top hat tightly. "You were… a-awake?"

"Nothing's gonna fix this…" Greg sighed tiredly, standing as he threw a bathrobe on over his suit. "Is it?"

Pearl faltered, unsure of how to answer this question, especially as the former rock star began to sulk out of the room. "Greg!"

"I'm sorry you had to be around me…" Greg muttered dismally as he walked out, despite both Pearl and Steven's protests.

"Dad!" the young Gem called after him worriedly, though his attention was soon turned back over to Pearl as she let out a small, guilty sigh behind him.

"I shouldn't have come along…" she said, now more forlorn than ever before, this time entirely thanks to her own doing.

"No," Steven said, his devout, serious tone catching the white Gem off guard. "This is exactly why we brought you."

Startled and confused, Pearl looked to the young Gem, bewildered, but all the same, she followed his lead as he began heading off in the same direction his father had gone. Though as they passed through the penthouse's den, they soon discovered that they weren't the only ones awake at such a late hour of the night.

"Dipper? Mabel?" Pearl frowned, noticing the pair first as they listlessly sat together on the couch. "Why are you kids up so late?"

"Why do you think?" Dipper asked, clearly exhausted as he broadly nodded over to the other side of the penthouse. Even from the den, the sound of Stan and Ford's noisy bickering could be heard, something that had been a constant for at least the past hour or so now. A constant that had, in the process, was robbing the younger pair of twins of sleep all the while.

"Admit it, Stanley! All you've ever done is hold me back!" Ford shouted furiously from somewhere down the hall.

"Oh yeah?" Stan's challenge echoed just as loudly through the penthouse. "Well at least I've done way more for you than your old pal Rose ever did!"

"Don't you dare bring Rose into this!"

"Oh my…" Pearl muttered to herself, shaking her head. "It seems I'm not the only one having a hard time moving on…"

"They're still fighting," Mabel groaned into one of the couch's plush pillows. "Which is crazy cause it actually seemed like things were finally going to be ok between those two!"

"But who are we kidding?" Dipper shook his head in resigned defeat. "They've hated each other for this long, why did we ever think there's anything that could make them stop now?"

"You guys can!" Steven interjected earnestly, offering the hopeless twins a hopeful glance. "They love both of you more than they hate each other, I know it! Which is why if there's anyone who could get them to make up, its you two."

For a moment, neither Dipper nor Mabel said anything to this, instead simply meeting Steven's encouraging smile halfheartedly. Until they both decided to go out on a limb in the hopes that such an idea could possibly have some merit. "Well, at this point, I guess it's worth a shot?" Dipper ventured with a small shrug.

Mabel nodded in support of this plan with a reassured smile, though before she could speak to it, the sudden simultaneous slamming of two different doors thundered through the entire penthouse. Something that signaled the fight was over, but the "war" was far from done. "Uh… how about you go talk to Ford while I smooth things over with Stan?" Mabel suggested, figuring that splitting up might be able to help.

"Sounds like a plan," Dipper agreed, both him and Mabel exchanging a hopeful, solidifying nod with Steven before they parted ways. At the same time, the young Gem continued on his own mission, taking Pearl by the hand as he led her out of the suite on an equally important mission all his own.

Meanwhile, Dipper and Mabel wished each other a silent bout of luck as they turned to their respective doors and respective tasks. While initially hesitant, sure enough, Dipper did work up the nerve to finally knock on Ford's door, only to receive a very harsh reception from the other side of it.

"For the last time, Stanley, I'm through wasting my valuable time on your childish games!"

"Uh… actually, it's Dipper…"

Unsurprisingly, Ford didn't hesitate to open the previously locked door for his nephew, greeting him much more fondly than he certainly would have had it really been Stan instead. "Sorry about that, my boy," the author straightened the edges of his suit, calming himself considerably. "What can I do for you, Dipper? It's awfully late, you know."

"Yeah, I do…" Dipper frowned as Ford let him come into the room. "But do you and Grunkle Stan know that?"

"A-ah… so, you heard?" Ford said, somewhat flustered.

"Pretty sure the whole hotel heard…" Dipper said as he sat alongside the author on the edge of the bed. "Great Uncle Ford, I'm sorry, but… I just don't understand."

"Understand what?" Ford asked, confused.

"Why you and Stan won't just… let this huge grudge you guys have for each other go. I mean, I guess I get where that grudge came from in the first place but, who knows? Maybe it's time for the two of you to just bury the hatchet and... start over?"

For the longest time, Ford said nothing to this, instead letting out a long, tired sigh as he stood to face the room's large window overlooking the sleeping city outside it. When he did speak, however, his tone was surprisingly melancholy, perhaps even tinged with hits of both regret and worry alike. "We can't do that, Dipper," he said softly, simply. "And to be perfectly honest, I'm quite surprised that you don't understand why we can't."

"W-what do you mean?" Dipper asked, quite confused himself now.

"Well-and I mean absolutely no offense to Mabel in saying this, but-haven't you ever felt as though she's… weighing you down?"

"I… uh…" Dipper frowned, unsure of what to say to such an odd question.

"Uh… huh?" Mabel asked on the other side of the hall, sitting on a different bed as she watched Stan angrily pace around the room.

"Ford thinks that I need the two of us to make up and be best friends, but I don't, not anymore!" the conman huffed hotly. "I don't need him, I don't need anyone! From here on out, there's only one person I'm lookin' out for and its good ol' numero uno: me! And if you were smart, kid, you'd do the same."

"B-but Grunkle Stan," Mabel protested. "That's no way to be! Why would I only look out for myself when I have so many other people to care about, like you, and Grunkle Ford, and Dipper-"

"Ha! Good luck with that," Stan scoffed bitterly. "I really hate to break it to you, pumpkin, but just you wait. I bet good money that in 10, maybe 15 years time, Dipper will end up leaving you behind for some dumb nerd thing, just like Ford did to me. I love the kid, but let's face it, he's way too much like sixer for his own good."

"But… n-no… Dipper wouldn't…" Mabel muttered, suddenly distraught as her own mind echoed with a question she didn't dare ask aloud: would he?

"N-no, Mabel's never…" Dipper trailed off, unable to honestly finish the thought. For indeed, there had been more than a few times where Mabel's own wants and pursuits had come before his own. The all-too bitter, far too familiar memory of a certain puppet show that led to an ill-fated deal came to mind above all else. And try as he might to shake that memory so many times before, the thought of all it had nearly cost him, of what she had nearly cost him, it was a shadow he'd yet to step out of, even still.

"Dipper, you're a brilliant kid with so much potential," Ford said, turning to his nephew with absolute earnesty. "You shouldn't let anyone, not even your own family, hold you back from all you could achieve. Believe me, that's a mistake I let myself make far too many times in the past, and while it might be a bit too late for me to change that, it's not too late for you."

"Look, Mabel, I just don't want to see you get hurt," Stan sighed, placing a hand on his niece's shoulder. "Better to see it coming and be ready for it than to let it take you by surprise and knock you off your feet. 'Cause take it from me, that's a road you don't wanna go down."

"But… me 'n Dipper aren't like…" "You guys" was what Mabel wanted to say, though she didn't quite have it in her to speak it aloud. So instead, she went off on a different tangent entirely, all the while desperately trying to convince herself, perhaps even more than Stan, that it wasn't true, that it wouldn't be true, that it couldn't be true. Because if it was… she couldn't even begin to imagine just how painful that would really be.

"But… Mabel and I don't… w-we aren't…" Dipper took in a deep breath, trying to steady both himself and the newfound rush of doubts starting to fill him.

"I-I mean… sure, Dipper isn't always on board with my ideas."

"I mean, I know sometimes Mabel can come on a little too strong…"

"And yeah, sometimes he has a bit of a problem of trying to do everything by himself instead of asking for help when he really needs it…"

"And she does sometimes go way overboard and she can be kind of selfish every now and then…"

"And… And… I guess he is just a little, tiny bit-"

"A-and… and she's just so… so-"

"Stubborn." All four Pines said at practically the same exact time, acknowledging the dark thread that seemed to taint their family in more ways than one.

Ford turned back toward the window, shaking his head sadly as another song began, jazzy, yet melancholy in tune and tempo. "He listens, but doesn't hear, he looks, but doesn't see," the author closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of his own faint reflection in the window. A reflection that always seemed to remind him of his twin in some way or another. "I talk, but it's so clear. I'm talking to only me."

Stan scowled, crossing his arms after he finally removed his top hat, glaring briefly toward the door as he began an icy verse all his own. "He acts so smart, all of the time. I'm always wrong, he's always right!" He scoffed, knowing that's always how it had been, ever since they were kids, and even now. A common refrain that had been a constant all his life, one that he had always tried to break out of, but could never quite rise to the occasion, no matter what he did or how hard he tried. "Not worth the effort, and that's why I'm-Done, it's over. Hang up the fight."

Dipper couldn't help but let out a small, sad sigh, recognizing just how many unfortunate, almost painful parallels really did exist between him and Mabel and their uncles. And in light of seeing those parallels clearly for the first time, he was unable to avoid the practically crushing worry that their own usually close bond was just as similarly doomed as their uncles' had been before them. But if it was, then who's fault would that really be, all things considered? The answer to that, seemed so simple. After all, he knew very well whose fault it usually was whenever they ended up falling out with each other. "She acts out, for a response," he began, just a hint of knowing bitterness in his tone. "She acts out, and I don't mind. She always does just what she wants. I'm forced to act, like its just fine." But it wasn't, it never was, because whenever she ended up getting what she wanted, he was always, always the one to lose out in the end.

By this point, Mabel was practically holding back fretful tears, overwhelmed by fear and dread. All coming from the long, singular though that, perhaps even sooner than later, her and Dipper would fall away from each other. That the close bond they both had always known between them would be broken. That they wouldn't need or even want to be around each other anymore when they always had been. Or rather, that he wouldn't want to be around her. "Right by his side, I try to stay," she sang almost mournfully, pulling her knees to her chest as those tears finally began to well up in her eyes. "And it's ok, but it's a lie… He goes alone, on his own way, and when he does, I always cry…"

"And nothing changes," all four of them sang, sharing the same sentiment, the same sharp, yet dull ache ringing through their song and through their hearts all the while. "It's all the same. Despite the ages, it's like a game."

"It's in the family-"

"In the blood."

"It's never over."

"It's like a flood-"

"Of bitter feelings-"

"Of old regrets-"

All things running so deep in their family, so far that it was practically the foundation they were all built upon. A foundation that was crumbling, breaking until the day it would inevitably fall apart completely, taking all of them with it in the process. A day they all knew was coming, but couldn't bear to face.

"It's in the family…"

"Don't forget…"

"It's in the family…"

"We can't forget…"

While Le Hotel's grand restaurant never really closed, it was rather empty at such a late hour of the night. In fact, it's only current patron was Greg, who sat at the bar, dully, dejectedly snacking on a glass full of cherries in the hopes of easing his sorrows. That is, until his sulking was interrupted by an arrival he admittedly hadn't been expecting.

Upon hearing his son clear his throat from behind, Greg turned to find both Steven and surprisingly, Pearl standing alongside him. The white Gem offered him a pensive, awkward smile, though ultimately said nothing. Greg did the same as he stood, even as Steven offered both of them a silent nod, urging them to do what they both knew needed to be done. The only problem was, neither of them had the faintest idea as to where to start.

Which was why Steven decided to take the initiative instead. He marched dutifully over to the restaurant's grand piano, handing off a large stack of cash to the pianist to curtail his inappropriately upbeat ragtime tune. Delighted by the sizable tip, the musician hurried off, leaving the piano open for him to take over with a gentle, earnest melody of his own. One that he hoped would finally accomplish something that should have been done quite some time ago.

"Why don't you talk to each other?" Steven sang up front, catching both Greg and Pearl off guard by just how forward the question really was. "Why don't you talk to each other? Just give it a try."

Despite this soft urging, Greg and Pearl still averted each other's gaze, neither of them knowing what to say to finally break the ice that made up the frozen wall that had been built between them years ago. "Why don't you talk about what happened?" the young Gem continued with a small, yet sad smile. "I know you're trying to avoid it, but I don't know why."

"You might not believe it." The pair slowly, hesitantly turned back toward each other, sparing a brief glance over at Steven along the way as they listened to his lyrics and the warmth and care behind them. "You might not believe it. But you've got a lot in common-you really do…"

"You both love me and I love both of you."

It was true. A fact that neither of them could deny even if they wanted to: that they loved Steven, deeply and fully, just as they both had-albeit in a different way-loved his mother before him. And it was the realization of that fact that, at long last started to bring both of them together.

With tired sighs, Pearl and Greg largely ignored the rest of the restaurant, lying down on the floor as a conversation finally started to brim between the two of them. "Look, if I were you, I'd hate me too," Greg began, looking down fretfully.

"I don't hate you…" Pearl assured softly, earnestly.

"But… I knew how you felt about Rose and I stayed anyway."

"That wasn't the problem…"

"Then… what was?"

"She fell in love with you…"

"Well, you know Rose," Greg sat up, finally cracking a smile. Pearl couldn't help but do the same, sharing that same sort of fondness that they both had-and still did have-towards the pink Gem. Fondness that they always had always had in common, they just hadn't been able to see it until now.

"She always did what she wanted!"

"I know you both need it." On a bout of tearful laughter, the pair stood, and as Greg extended the offer to dance once more, this time, Pearl had no qualms about taking his hand and joining in. "I know you both need it. Someone who knows what you're going through…"

"And you might not believe it." The pair took to the floor, dancing slowly yet cordially along to Steven's song and enjoying it, and the newfound, much-needed solidarity between them all the while. "You might not believe it-but you've got a lot in common, you really do."

"You both love me and I love both of you."

"You both love me and I love both… of you…"

As both the song and the dance came to a close, Pearl and Greg still exchanged a warm smile, one that only grew as the hotel employees came out to applaud their performance. Still, both of them knew there was much more worth celebrating than that. Because for perhaps the first time ever, they could finally see things eye to eye. And the flood of good feels from that alone made both Pearl and Greg never want to return to the bitterness and shame of the past again in favor of embracing a newer, kinder future instead.

This newfound camaraderie was inevitably interrupted however as one hotel staff member came up to Greg with a silver platter, offering it out to him. "Le bill, sir."

As soon as Greg took the bill, he jolted, shocked by just how much of a hefty charge their one night stay had racked up. Of course, he now had more than enough to cover it, but that didn't make the high cost of the life of a nouveau riche any less startling. "Tailor made suits, those cost somethin'," he sang, frowning as he unfolded the lengthy bill to get a glimpse at its full scope. "Room with a view, those cost somethin'."

"Dancing with you…" Pearl interjected with a knowing, playful grin.

"Don't cost nothin'," Greg chimed in gladly, especially as the white Gem let out a small chuckle.

"Why'd we even come? We could have done this at home," she pointed out, eliciting a delighted laugh from Steven as he came over to join them. In fact, that delight continued as they returned up to the penthouse to pack their things, their expensive vacation having come to an end before anymore money could be poured into it. And yet, for relieved as Steven was by the newly cleared air between Pearl and Greg, he quickly realized upon meeting up with Dipper and Mabel again that they hadn't shared the same sort of success when it came to Stan and Ford.

In fact, if anything, all four of the Pines seemed quite forlorn as they prepared to head home, expressions equally downcast and words sparse as they all made the trip back down to the lobby. And as he took stock of this, Steven's own smile couldn't help but fade as well, even if things between Pearl and Greg were still every bit as bright as he had wanted them to be.

"Singing a song, don't cost nothin'," Pearl sang as she helped the former rock star pack up the van. "O-or was it, palling around, don't cost nothin'? Getting it wrong…"

"Don't cost nothing!" Greg cut in with an amused chuckle.

"I tried," the white Gem shrugged.

"I'm surprised you remembered any of it," the former rock star pointed out, still laughing.

"What can I say? Its catchy."

With their time in Emerald City coming to a close, everyone climbed into the van, Pearl and Greg taking the front as they kept each other entertained with reminiscent conversation-most of it focusing on fond memories of Rose-as they began the long trek home. Stan and Ford sat as far apart as they possibly could behind them, arms crossed and moods sour as they both tried to go to sleep to avoid any sort of further interaction. And then, in the back, sat Steven, wedged worriedly between Dipper and Mabel, who, much like their uncles, seemed uneasy at the very thought of so much as even looking at each other, much to the young Gem's confusion.

Steven hadn't the faintest idea as to what had transpired between the twins while he was gone, and at this point, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to ask. And yet, his unspoken question soon got something of an answer in the form of a morose, quiet, yet unwitting duet between the two, one that Steven listened in on with growing concern all the while.

"Tried so hard to fix it all, to let it grow…" Mabel started, her usual cheery tune currently anything but.

"From the ground up, but it wound up that now we know…" Dipper continued with a sigh, staring out the window as the cityscape passed them by.

"Life's too short…" the twins sang together softly, almost mournfully over an agonizing truth they'd never once considered before. And in the process of discovering it, indeed they were a bit wiser, though certainly much more sadder for it.

"To see there's much more out there," Dipper kept his sights on the window as Mabel slowly, fretfully spared a discreet glance past Steven over at him.

"To see that you don't care…" she lamented, fighting back tears.

"Was it them who were wrong?" they both sang, looking toward their uncles sitting in front of them. "Or was it us all along?"

"I wish I saw things clearly," Dipper closed his eyes, shaking his head in gentle frustration.

"I guess I'm not the sort…" Mabel faltered, barely letting a small sob choke out.

"Now all we know as life's too short…"

Silence filled in between the twins at this, striking Steven the hardest as he sat in the middle of it all. While he still didn't know what had really happened, he could tell that whatever had managed to harm them both. That it had broken something between them, even if there was no real telling what.

Which was why the most the young Gem could hope to do was to repair that break before it inevitably ended up tearing two of his closest friends apart.

"But… it's… not over, isn't it?" he sang to himself, echoing Pearl's own song with the same sort of woe and regret the white Gem herself had sang it with.

"It's not over, isn't it?" he sang, even as they left Emerald City and everything that had happened there behind. Or at least, that's all he could do to hope, even as he realized it wasn't true. For as one problem had indeed been solved on this trip, it was all too clear that an entirely new one was only just beginning in its place.

"It's over… isn't it?"

#ignore the lack of proper formatting on this #and just go read this on ff.net or a3 instead pls #jen writes #universe falls #steven universe #gravity falls #crossover #au #mr. greg #steven #pearl #greg #stan #ford #dipper #mabel #keyword is emerald city

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team-free-will-oneshots · 6 years ago

Text

The Art of Subtlety

Title: The Art of Subtlety

Request/Prompt: a collection of prompts that i had saved from literally years ago from @imaginethatsupernatural and also @supernaturalimagine - idk if either of them are active anymore but yeah. Basically Dean and the reader are in a secret relationship and it’s following their shenanigans as they (try to) hide it from Sam and Cas

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: A little violence at the start including mentions of blood, nothing too graphic, and there’s like one sexual innuendo as well

Word Count: 2,161

note; hope you guys enjoy! feel free to send in some requests, i’m hoping to try and post at least once every two days but i can’t do that if my inbox is empty! xx i’d love to hear from you guys!

Things were not looking good.

The witch was more powerful than you had anticipated, and to make matters worse, you and Dean were facing her alone. Sam had already been knocked out, and was laying in the corner with a bleeding temple.

Your heart was pounding and your head spinning as you called out to get the witch’s attention. She turned towards you, and her split second of weakness offered Dean only a small window of opportunity, yet it was large enough for him to lodge a bullet in her skull. As she collapsed in an ever-growing puddle of blood, you felt an overwhelming wave of relief crash over you, battling with the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Your hands were shaking as Dean glanced over at you, concern mellowing his otherwise hardened stare.

“Are you okay?” he demanded, rushing over to you and seizing your shoulders, eyes scanning you for injuries. He smelt of metal and sweat, and his hands left bloody streaks on your shirt as his green eyes searched yours insistently. He had a graze on his jaw, and a bruise beginning to form along his cheekbone.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder in a light touch of reassurance. You could feel the heat of his skin through his plaid, and though the anxiety in his stance died, he stayed close to you. Dean stared at you in half-awe for a moment, breathing heavily, before his grip on your shoulders tightened.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, more to himself than anything else. “You’re okay.”

You nodded absently, lost in the depths of his eyes as he drank in the sight of you as a parched man drank water. He caught you entirely by surprise as he tugged you closer to him, slamming his lips against yours and kissing you with a fiery intensity that burned through your veins and sent your heart spiraling into a flurry of frantic beating. You were stiff for a moment, but quickly found your arms looping around his neck as his fingers knotted in your hair. His lips were chapped and he tasted of copper as his tongue teased yours, one hand moving to grip your hip as he pulled you flush to his chest. You could feel his heart hammering through his shirt, it’s frenzied rhythm mirroring your own.

The air was pierced with Sam’s cough as he slowly came to, and the two of you were quick to withdraw from your act of passion. You felt your cheeks flush as Dean cleared his throat, eyes flitting to yours one last time before you both moved to tend to Sam.

---

That night, the motel room was silent but for the whirring hum of the air conditioner and the occasional purring of a car cruising past the vicinity. You’d long since scrubbed the blood from under your fingernails and washed the sweat from your hair, and were ready to fall into a well-deserved slumber. Before you could surrender to sleep’s grasp, however, you noticed Dean sitting on the small couch, a beer on the table as he looked blankly at the tv in front of him, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey,” you said softly, taking a seat next to him, and the eldest Winchester jumped at your sudden appearance. He immediately forced his lips into a small smile.

“Hey,” he said, and his voice was gruff.

“You okay?” you asked. Dean nodded casually, and though you didn’t quite believe him, you let it slide. You all had your demons in this lifestyle, both literally and metaphorically, and Dean had gone through far more than even you could comprehend. It wasn’t up to you to force him to voice his feelings - you could only be there for him in his silence.

“Are you?” he deflected. You nodded, and heard Sam stir in his sleep behind you.

“Wanna go for a walk?” you suggested, and Dean appraised you questioningly for a moment before nodding. The two of you left the motel room, wandering down the barely sheltered corridors that led out to the parking lot.

“So, uh… are we gonna talk about what happened?” you asked eventually, and Dean was so quiet that at first, you feared he hadn’t heard you. As you looked at him searchingly, his adamant avoidance of your gaze insinuated otherwise.

“I could lie and say it was just the… the adrenaline, or the thrill of the hunt, but… dammit, Y/N, I like you. I like you a hell of a lot. And you don’t have to say anything, but-”

You cut him off by gripping his shoulder as you drew to a halt. He looked at you inquiringly, about to speak again, only to be silenced as you stepped forward and kissed him. Though incredulous, he immediately melted into you, his mouth moving with yours sweetly and tenderly, so different to the urgency of your last kiss, yet equally as meaningful.

Both of you were quick to resolve that this should remain only between the two of you - you wanted to preserve this intimacy, to allow this newfound relationship to blossom before it could be tainted with the prying questions of others.

You sealed the vow with a kiss, your whispered promises held secret by the crickets and your whispers bleeding into the night air as, bathed in the moonlight, the two of you found yourselves in each other.

---

Two months later

For the first time in what felt like years, you were wearing a dress (or a classier pant-based outfit if that’s more your style). You felt strangely sophisticated as you left the motel, meeting Sam and Dean where they waited for you at the Impala. Your boyfriend raised an appreciative eyebrow at your attire as he caught sight of you, and you bit back a smile as he winked flirtatiously.

“Look at you,” he said, shaking his head gently. “You look gorgeous, baby.”

You shot him a pointed glare at his careless term of endearment, and his eyes widened in panic as he recalled Sam’s presence. When you glanced at him, however, he seemed nonplussed as he slipped into the Impala.

“You know, Dean, it really is kind of weird for you to call the car ‘baby’,” he remarked, and Dean looked affronted despite the relief clouding his features.

“Hey, watch your mouth! She’ll hear you!” he defended, and you stifled a giggle as the two of you got into the Impala before setting off towards the town’s nearest diner, in need of a celebration following another successful hunt - a run-of-the-mill salt and burn.

Once the three of you had sat and ordered, Sam excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and Dean alone at the table. Dean immediately seemed to relax.

“Have I mentioned how stupidly good you look in that dress yet?” he asked with a coy grin, and you felt your cheeks flush.

“Uh, yeah, you almost blew our cover!” you hissed playfully, and he smirked.

“Doesn’t have to be the only thing getting blown tonight,” he taunted, and you kicked him beneath the table.

“You wish, Winchester,” you shot back. Dean cockily grinned, about to say something but abruptly shutting his mouth as Sam approached the table. He looked between the two of you with a quizzical furrow of his brow.

“Everything okay?” he asked. You and Dean glanced at each other before nodding quickly, both uttering words of assurance that combined into a cacophony of unintelligible declarations.

“...right,” Sam said slowly, before taking his seat. The night flew by quickly, filled with conversation, food, and laughter, supplemented by the teasing game of footsie you and Dean played under the table and the subtle grins and silent laughter the two of you shared whenever Sam’s attention was diverted elsewhere.

Before long, the three of you were headed back to the Impala, ready to begin the long drive home to the bunker. You settled into the back seat, listening to the brothers’ casual conversations in the front half of the car. Discussions of podcasts, books, whose music taste was better… simple bickering that left you with an amused smile as you occasionally weighed in on their trivial disagreements. Every now and then Dean would glance at you in the rearview mirror, eyes bright as he took in the slope of your smile and enjoyed the melody of your laughter. Your eyes met his in the reflective surface, and the two of you exchanged exhilarated smiles, subtle displays of the mutual secret held between you, a secret that was blooming into the happiness you both had been seeking for what seemed like your entire lives.

Sam set off to bed almost the moment the three of you arrived back at the bunker, leaving you free to join Dean in his room without the need for stealth. The two of you curled up in bed, and Dean hugged you close to his chest, his lips resting in your hair as you slung an arm across his torso.

“Tonight was fun,” you murmured sleepily. “Especially the bit where I owned you at footsie.”

“You owned me? I think we both know I’m the footsie champion here,” Dean protested, and you grinned, placing a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Whatever you say, babe. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you teased, and he smirked, running his thumb along your cheekbone before tilting your head up so as to capture your mouth with his in a slow, deep kiss. You exchanged a soft smile as you drew apart, and you nestled in closer to him. His grip on you was a little too tight, as though he were scared that someone would snatch you away if he wasn’t too careful. You didn’t mind - you felt safer in his arms than you had ever felt elsewhere.

“You know… we should probably tell Sam about us,” you eventually sighed, and Dean exhaled, nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But just Sam to start with, yeah? I don’t want just anyone to catch wind, or else-”

“Yeah, yeah, love is weakness, demons would love to use me as bait, blah blah blah. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Dean chuckled. “Oh, I know,” he assured you. “But I’d prefer if you didn’t have to.”

You gave him a small smile, your hand finding his and locking your fingers together.

“So it’s agreed? We’ll tell Sam in the morning?”

“Yeah, agreed.”

---

The next morning, you and Dean were surprised to see that Cas had joined the three of you in the bunker in a rare occurrence that stemmed from a desire to catch up as opposed to an apocalyptic emergency.

“Cas,” Dean remarked in surprise, glancing to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes met his, and you half shrugged - may as well tell him, too. No harm in that, right?

“Hey, Cas,” you greeted with a warm smile, which Cas returned with equal kindness.

“Good morning, Y/N. And Dean,” he added with a small inclination of his head. Sam was seated with a cup of coffee, scrolling through a news website on his laptop. He nodded at the two of you quickly.

“Hey, guys,” he acknowledged. “There’s extra toast in the toaster if you’re hungry.”

Dean’s eyes lit up, and he was about to head towards the kitchen before you grabbed his wrist, holding him back.

“Actually, there was something we wanted to speak to you about. Both of you,” you said firmly, and Dean traded a reassuring glance with you. Sam and Cas turned their attention towards the two of you encouragingly.

You swallowed thickly. “Uh, Dean and I are… well… we’re together. We have been for a while, actually,” you announced nervously. Sam and Cas glanced at each other.

“This is… very unexpected,” Cas said suddenly. “I am… very surprised, Sam and I had absolutely no idea,” he said resolutely, and a tad overenthusiastically. He turned to Sam. “Was that convincing?” he asked in a hush, and Sam groaned, though couldn’t restrain his laughter at the confusion etched onto yours and Dean’s faces.

“We know,” Sam said eventually, and Dean’s mouth was agape.

“You-what-how?” he stuttered in surprise. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You guys aren’t exactly subtle,” he laughed, and you and Dean shared sheepish expressions.

You allowed a small smile. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you asked, your hand clasping Dean’s. He stroked his thumb absentmindedly over your knuckles.

“I figured you’d tell us when you’re ready,” Sam said with a shrug. “Took you long enough. How much do I owe you, Cas?”

“You placed bets on this?” you asked, aghast, and Sam shrugged again somewhat guiltily. You allowed a huff of irritation, but felt your heart glow as Dean pressed a kiss to your temple and smiled into your hair, indifferent to the presence of his brother and the angel. No more secrets.

You could get used to this.

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