Greetings, ladies and gentle-riffers! Atlas Nebula here, and after the endurance test that was “Derpy’s Finest Hour” and the collab that’s currently in the works, I’m solo-riffing a good story. This one in particular holds a special place in my heart, because it was the first MLP romance fic I ever read. And you know what? Even reading it now, it’s still pretty damn good, which is impressive for a fic that’s  over a year old. Yeah, tonight’s fic of choice is “No Need For Words”. Let’s start the show!

        (Atlas and Vinyl have an acoustic session in the studio.)

        Vinyl: So... are they gonna be here soon?

        Atlas: In a few minutes, yeah.

        Vinyl: I’ve never done a riff as a date before, but I kinda like the idea.

Atlas: Well, traditional dating bores me, so it’s best to do something unique for such an occasion.

Vinyl: I never even tried traditional dating, or what you humans consider to be like that.

Atlas: The thing is that I haven’t dated anyone in about 3 years so my memory is fading a bit, but from what I remember-

(The doors open up, and Trixie with Anon in tow swagger in wearing clothing WAY too fancy for the occasion. Elegance would be an acceptable description. Anon holds the door open for his sweetheart to trot through)

Anon: Sorry we’re late, but this suit had a stain on it, and, well...

Trixie: I told you to get ready earlier.

Anon: (smiles and blushes) Yeah, my bad.

Atlas: Aha! They’re here on time, and...

Vinyl: What’s with the getups, guys? This isn’t some fancy dinner party.

Trixie: Well, no, but it is our first ever double date. I thought it was a good idea to dress to impress.

Anon: I never knew you had so many outfits, Trixie. But, it still took me the longest to get ready, weird enough. You really make that dress look good, Trixie.

Trixie: (blushes) Uh hum, yes, well...

Atlas: (looking at his watch) Oh you two. You really are cute together, you know that?

Anon: What do you mean? (points to Trixie) She’s the cute one.

Vinyl: Yeah, but you’re cute too, Anon, in your own dorky way...

Anon: (smiles) Oh, stop it, you’re making me blush.

Trixie: Well, she’s not wrong. However, you two are pretty properly dressed yourselves... in a way, I guess. 

(Atlas is wearing a black zip-up hoodie that says “The Beatles” on the front, and Vinyl has a lovely flower in her mane.)

Atlas: Oh come on, this is how I normally dress!

Vinyl: Although the flower’s kinda new for me.

Atlas: (picks up the remote) So, I assume you two know what we’re riffing?

Anon: Yep. Even saved the Email, just in case.

Trixie: I just hope it’s a good fic and not something, well, you now, that’s garbage.

Atlas: Pfft, this fic is awesome! It’s a second person romance fic starring a deaf anon and... you, Vye.

Vinyl: Wait, I’m in this story?

Atlas: Yeppers, and it’s an ancient fic too, from well over a year ago.

Anon: A deaf anon and a musical DJ... that’s--

Trixie: --So romantic! Oh, this is going to be a good one. It better be; this dress cost me a gem to get.

        Atlas: I’m already hyped up for this.

        (buzzer sounds)

        All: We’ve got story sign!

No Need For Words

        Atlas: Oh, and I forgot to mention one more thing. There’s no spoken dialog in this.

Anon: Wow, that’s impressive. I hope this isn’t a sad story.

Trixie: Yeah, you’ll ruin your makeup,  Anon.

by

Whirring Gears

        Vinyl: Vroom-vroom!

Atlas: I like motorcycles.

Anon: (sighs) “Metal Gear!”

Strobes flash across the floor and walls. Lasers shoot through the air.

        Atlas: ♫Transformers, robots in disguise!♫

The lights glow in an amazing display of color reflecting off every surface they could.

Trixie: Protective eyewear is recommended.

Vinyl: Why do ya think I wear goggles for my job?

Through it all, ponies dance.

        Vinyl: In so many ways that we’re not even gonna list them.

Anon: “I call this move the giant baby!”

Atlas: “And this one is called the belly flopper!”

The bass thumps and shakes your body.

Anon: Oh, and it’s a second person fic. I used to read those a lot when I first started to work here.

Atlas: Reminds me of Crowley.

Your fur feels like it’s fizzing.

Trixie: “Then you realize you’re sitting on a stove.”

        Vinyl: “They told me I could be anything, so I became a can of soda.”

Waves of sensation crash over you.

        Atlas: Suddenly, you’re at the beach. I give you a hamburger.^[a]

You move yourself around to simply feel the beat everywhere you could.

Anon: Knocking everypony else around you.

Vinyl: I’d quote the guy but all I can say is, “...”.

It is a wonderful feeling.

Trixie: Until the deadly combination of soda and candy churns in your gut.

Suddenly, the feeling stops.

        Atlas: You’re dead. I give you a hamburger, but it turns out that I don’t exist...

The ponies and lights calm down.

Anon: You’re still dancing like a maniac on the floor.

Atlas: Like a professional Irish drunk.

Vinyl: ...what?

They look up to the one who brings you such wonderful feelings.

Trixie: But she is gone like a puff of smoke.

Anon: “Alakazam, bitches!” It’s weird to swear while wearing fancy clothes...

The white unicorn looks over the crowd through her purple shades.

        Vinyl: Hey, that’s me!

        Atlas: Yes it is, honey bun, and this is also the first time I’ve heard of you.

        Vinyl: So you knew about me before we met?

        Atlas: Well, not really, but... it’s a really long story.

You see the DJ, her blue streaked mane glistening with sweat.

Trixie: She’s been DJ’ing in the sauna.

Vinyl: Occasionally, yeah.

She is obviously enjoying the evening as much as you are.

        Atlas: Woah, did we skip a few pages?

She raises a hoof and the crowd responds, wildly thumping their own hooves the floor.

        Atlas: (stares at the error) I’ll get you someday...

Everypony is happy. Everything is good.

Trixie: ♫All is calm; all is bright...♫

Anon: That’s when The Fiends From Dream Valley attacked.

You sit and close your eyes, waiting for her to cause the bass to wash over you again.

        Atlas: You were an avid swimmer but you sucked at surfing.

This DJ was always your favorite.

        Vinyl: Awww, but really, I’m not that good.

        Atlas: That’s bullshit and you know it.

        Vinyl: I know, but they always give me weird looks whenever I start the show.

        Atlas: Hmmm...

She knew how it was supposed to feel. Others could just not match her flow. Her rhythm. Her beauty.

Trixie: Her goggles.

Anon: Her swagger, her hips, her...

Trixie: (looks nonchalant at Anon)

Anon: (smiles wearly) Hehehe...

        Vinyl: ...have you been-

        Atlas: HER FLANKS! Sorry, had to distract someone.

        Vinyl: (smiles and blushes slightly)

You had developed a little crush on the mare DJ when you began coming to this club, as silly as it may be.

Trixie: You were the subwoofer. You can’t date fellow employees.

Atlas: You were but an amoeba. Literally, you’re a microscopic organism.

It was the way she moved. Wild and free.

Anon: And always drooling.

        Vinyl: What’s that supposed to mean?

Anon: And now you know how I feel when we read a story about a horrible anon.

Yearning to feel more as she let the beat all run over.

Trixie: Sure, the trips to the hospital were expensive, but it was worth it.

Anon: If it’s to see the mare of his dreams—yeah, it would.

You could see her hairs stand on edge when she’s up there while the ponies dance. She understood.

        Atlas: “----” I can’t even quote the anon. Damn...

Vinyl: “She respected me as a strong, independant goat!”, or as this guy would say it, “CAN EVERYPONY HEAR ME ALRIGHT?!”

You imagine what it would be like to be able to meet her.

Anon: Maybe she could sign your Vinyl plushie.

Atlas: I want that plushie.

However, you had no idea what you would say.

Anon: I can relate. Seriously, how do you put up with me, Trixie?

Trixie: (blinks) Where did that come from?

There is really nothing you could say, sad as that was.

        Vinyl: The poor guy really can’t speak, huh?

Atlas: Actually, it could be either a stallion or a mare. The details of the anon are so few and so vague that it could be either gender.

You wait patiently for the sensations to take your mind away.

Anon: ♫Take me away upon a plateau.♫

Suddenly, your vision goes bright.

        Atlas: Let’s look at some colors. We would really like you to buy a PS Vita.

Anon: It reminds me of the wonderful firework shows you do at night, Trixie. It really awes me so much I get speechless.

Trixie: My light shows really are the best, aren't they? And, um, thank you, Anon.

You open your eyes again, but need to squint. There is a spotlight on you. Everypony is looking at you.

Vinyl: Now that’s just cruel. I mean, I’d probably get butterflies in my tummy if that happened to me.

Anon: I’d be dead. Just dead.

        Atlas: I’d sweat bullets most likely.

Trixie: I would handle it with grace and dignity. If my heart didn’t stop, that is.

They look annoyed. Their mouths are moving.

        Atlas: Friggin’ mouth breathers!

You see the DJ lower her hoof, probably using it to point at you before.

Trixie: Vinyl: “You’ve just won ten million bits! All you gotta do is say something.”

        Vinyl: Or I could just ask him if there’s something wrong...

You spin your head around the scene in confusion.

        Atlas: ♫You spin me right round, baby, right round!♫

They begin to look more and more irritated.

Anon: Crowd: “Just request a song already!”

You begin to walk backwards, off the dance floor. Some look angry.

Atlas: Crowd: “Get on with it!”

Some shake their heads. Worst of all, the DJ looks at you with a frown.

Anon: Ouch, my heart.

Vinyl: (saddened) What did he do wrong? I know he’s can’t hear anything, but...

Trixie: Do they know he can’t hear? I’m guessing not.

Atlas: (hugs Vinyl) Don’t worry, things turn around pretty soon.

You feel your cheeks grow hot as you walk over to the bar of the club.

        Vinyl: Your tummy is getting the rumblies, and only vodka can satisfy!

The barcolt is cleaning a glass when you sit on a stool at the counter.

Anon: Barcolt: “Come on, you stupid stain! I’ve been at this for hours, just get clean already!”

Atlas: “Stain, I challenge you to a banjo duel!”

He looks up. He knows you.

Trixie: His eyes narrow at you and he looks mad.

Atlas: He eats a sandwich menacingly.

You nod at him. He puts the glass down and turns away to the bottles.

Anon: Barcolt: “Stop staring at my rump, you bottles!”

You can feel the beat and rhythm returning, but not as strong as on the dance floor.

        Vinyl: Proximity and stuff like that, yes it would be.

You would rather not go back right now.

Anon: You’d turn into a pillar of salt if you did.

Trixie: Say what now?

Atlas: NERRRRD!~

Maybe a drink will help you forget the embarrassment still burning in your cheeks.

        Atlas: Daddy needs his medicine.

Anon: Ah, flavor country.

Vinyl: It’s cool that they let me play at the club even though I’m not old enough to drink, I guess.

Trixie: When you have talent, you can get around such stupid rules.

The barcolt puts a drink in front of you. It is today’s special.

        Atlas: I give you a hamburger, but instead I give you a raccoon.

You are not picky and do not care what it is.

Trixie: You don’t even care that it’s still moving.

Anon: Bar food is made of ponies!

Atlas: Oh my gawwwwd!

You take five bits out of your bag and put them on the counter.

Anon: You are now broke.

You have no idea how much this drink actually costs, but the barcolt takes them. If it is too much, he deserves a tip. He is a good pony.

        Atlas: My John, big tree!

        Vinyl: Anypony else notice how simple the writing is?

        Atlas: Actually, it kinda reminds me of Ernest Hemingway’s style of writing.

        Vinyl: Ya mean Hoofingway?

        Atlas: Same difference.

Anon: I like it. It leaves much to the imagination of the reader, which is the point of second person stories. The reader fills in the gaps for themselves.

The drink seems to glow different colors with the lights in the club.

Anon: “Ohh, pretty colors.”

Trixie: Is it made from zap apples?

You sip at it. It is bubbly and you let it cover your tongue.

        Atlas: Okay, I’m already getting bizarre mental images here.

Anon: “It seems to achieve different flavors the longer it’s swished around in your mouth.”

A sensation other than the music right now is welcome.

Trixie: Even the smell of the vomit next to you is better than the music.

You let it slowly slide to the back of your mouth, tingling and burning all the way down your throat.

        Vinyl: Ew, sounds acidic. And you guys enjoy this sorta thing?

Anon: (shrugs) I dunno.

Trixie: You barely drink, Anon.

Anon: I drink the fruity flavored ones...

You give a small cough. The drink is strong. You take another sip.

        Atlas: It is poisoned. You take another sip. I give you a hamburger...

The barcolt goes back to washing his glasses.

Trixie: “Why do you haunt me, stain?! Why?!”

He would chat with other ponies, but not with you.

        Vinyl: I’m guessing that the bartender knows of your condition?

        Atlas: Seeing as how the anon seems to know he bartender, yes.

Anon: This narration reminds me of Bastion, for some reason. I’m totally reading this in Rucks’ voice.

Atlas: I’m reading this in Roy Kelly’s voice.^[b]

You know why. It was a frustrating process when you first attempted to do so. Time consuming.

Trixie: Worlds were at stake, and you didn’t want to be late.

Time you know the busy barcolt doesn’t have.

        Atlas: Barcolt: “Just two days until retirement!”

You stay at the bar with your thoughts.

        Vinyl: They were your only true friends.

Anon: (downcast) Yeah...

Going between the embarrassment, the confusion, and the frustration.

Trixie: I think we all here can relate.

You sip at the drink every now and again and keep letting it wash over your tongue like you had done with the beat before the incident.

        Atlas: You know, the incident with the thing at that place that one time.

Anon: “Proper story’s supposed to start at the beginning. Ain't so simple with this one.”

Somehow in your thought process, you remember the way the DJ looked at you. The DJ who always made you feel good.

        Atlas: I’m getting weird Lero vibes from this...

Anon: Dream within a dream you travel...

You feel your insides knot up with shame.

        Vinyl: Aww, who needs a hug?

Trixie: Heck, this anon could use a kiss. Kind of like my Anon.

Anon: Aww, how can I say no to that?

Your drink was nearly gone. You felt warm and fuzzy.

        Atlas: You blame the meds.

        Vinyl: Or maybe I give him a surprise hug.

You give a sigh that attracts the barcolt’s attention. They raise an eyebrow at you. They were concerned. You nodded that you were fine.

Atlas: You were only slightly drunk.

Trixie: The room wasn’t spinning that much.^[c]

The barcolt points up to a clock on the wall with his hoof. It was almost 20 minutes past closing. You wonder how you were able to space out for that long.

        Vinyl: Go home, Anon, you’re drunk.

Anon: (after drinking scrumpy) An' I got a manky eye. I'm a black, Scottish cyclops!

Atlas: SPAH SAPPIN’ MAH LIVER!

You nod again and take one last sip of your drink before the barcolt takes the glass.

Trixie: “It’s my glass! Mine!”

You slide off the stool and try to stand. Your legs still work, albeit they feel a little numb.

        Atlas: Legs: “We don’t feel like working today.”

You try to shake a little feeling into them.

Anon: They make a “woggle” noise every time they’re shaken.

They do not feel better but they will have to do. You begin to walk out.

        Atlas: When suddenly, the Fire Nation attacks!

You take a few steps before you feel something poke you in the side.

        Vinyl: “Can I have your autograph?”

Trixie: ‘Yes I will marry you! I mean, what?’

A pony’s hoof? You turn to see yourself reflected off a pair of purple shades.

Anon: You see your own clone. Reality begins to shift.

Atlas: I give you a hamburger...

It was the DJ, of all ponies. The light reflects off of their white fur and blue mane. They do not look happy.

        Vinyl: Kinda like how I am right now.

        Atlas: You don’t like the fic?

        Vinyl: Nah, it’s just that I feel sorry for the guy.

Anon: He’s kinda... relatable...

Trixie: Isn’t that the point of second person stories?

Her lips are moving. You do not understand.

Anon: Vinyl: “Your mane is on fire!”

Why would she talk to you? Was it because of earlier? Your ears drop back as she finishes.

Trixie: It sounds like he’s getting ready to get kicked. Poor guy.

Atlas: Or girl. The gender’s never specified.

Anon: I’m surprised there aren’t more second person fics that do that.

You can't respond. You feel your insides twist again.

        Atlas: Your intestines are having a fist fight.

She moves her lips once more, looking angry.

Trixie: Vinyl: “Seriously, we have got to get you to the hospital.”

You feel like you're shrinking under her gaze. She waits. You say nothing. You see the barcolt call to her. As she turns, he begins to say something.

        Vinyl: So he does know...

You don’t know what he said, but the DJ looks back to you with all malice out of her expression.

Anon: The barcolt drained it from her with his bartender ways.

It’s replaced by wonder and disbelief.

Atlas: Vinyl: “You really are Beethoven!”

She turns to the barcolt again and says something. The barcolt takes out a notepad and a pencil.

Anon: That bartender is prepared.

Vinyl: He’s ready for anything, even giant ants!

Levitating both with her magic, she begins to write something before turning it to you to see. Her writing is elegant and pleasing to the eye.

Anon: Wow, that really is good writing. Mine looks like chicken scratch.

Trixie: Not to mention all the misspellings...

        Atlas: I’ve yet to see another fic that uses notecards for dialog.

You nod. She begins writing again.

Trixie: Vinyl: “Did my music make you deaf?”

Vinyl: “Do ya like all the pretty colors?”

You gesture for the notepad. She gives it to you and you place it on a nearby table. Taking the pencil as well, you begin to write.

Anon: I see it doesn’t specify how the anon took the pencil. Nice.

Atlas: Even the race of the anon is left a mystery.

It’s not as pretty as hers, but it’s not bad and communicates what you are trying to say.

        Atlas: I wish I my cursive was nearly that elegant.

Trixie: I wonder how this anon gets around normally?

Vinyl: Well, that is kinda the point of bass. It’s not so much of a sound as it is a vibration. You can feel it more than you can hear it.

Anon: That reminds me of the time my brother attached massive bass speakers into the trunk of his car. Not only did it shake my body, but it felt like it was destroying the density of my bones, and I think it rattled my teeth. It was awesome.

She looks at you carefully, as if she thinks you’re playing a trick on her.

        Atlas: Suddenly, everypony was throwing pies at each other.

Anon: There are clowns everywhere.

Atlas: I fucking hate clowns...

Eventually, she takes the pencil again and writes. You begin taking turns with the notepad.

        Atlas: Notepad: “Now now, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around!”

You pause as you think of how to explain it.

Vinyl: Again, it’s bass, it’s more reliant on feeling than hearing. Combine drums and bass and you have the backbone to a functional band.

Trixie: I once heard that to have a very lasting song, you need a good beat for ponies to tap their hoofs at or something to dance to.

        Atlas: Anyone else feel like the anon is talking about orgasms?

Anon: I don’t think...wait... Oh! I see it now!

You try to think of what else to write.

        Vinyl: “Took you about three hours to write those sentences.”

Trixie: “I like it when it rattles my brain around.”

Anon: (smiles slyly) I guess you like it loud, huh, Trixie? I’ll keep that in mind.

Before you give it back, you write one last thing.

        Atlas: Just one moooore~ thing!

Anon: I can imagine standing next to giant speakers does that to a person.

Trixie: I’m not quite sure that’s what the story ment, Anon.

She smiles. A wonderful smile, one that lifts you out of the despair of her frown moments ago.

Anon: A smile that will last throughout the ages!

She begins writing.

Trixie: “Do you like me? Please check one box.”

She looks at you for a moment

Trixie: Vinyl: “Are you entirely purple? Wait, what about my goggles? They're still--oh, duh.”

before writing again.

        Vinyl: Huh. She’s a lot like... me...

Atlas: It’s refreshing, really. Normally, you’re portrayed as being more... promiscuous in fanfiction. But here, you’re a legitimate musician.

Her writing gets slower near the end. You gesture for the pencil.

        Atlas: Why does that sound familiar?

She looks and then opens her mouth in a big smile, exhaling sharply and repeatedly.

        Vinyl: Um... what am I doing?

You believe it to be laughter.

Trixie: Or she may need a trip to the psych ward.

Anon: Vinyl: “The gumdrops tell me the juice's future!”

You hope she’s not laughing at you.

        Atlas: No, she’s laughing in front of you.

Trixie: The laughter is coming through the walls! It’s everywhere!

She calms down and takes the pencil again.

        Vinyl: “I like this pencil. This is a nice bucking pencil.”

        Atlas: “Because watch out for Vaas, he’ll enslave your ass!”

Anon: “I really nuked the bathroom stalls. Don’t eat the special, whatever you do.”

You feel a slight twinge of guilt as you remember the incident on the dance floor.

Trixie: You really busted a move all over that dance floor.

Anon: It couldn’t handle you. Party hard!

Vinyl: You couldn’t find the bathroom, so...

Taking the pencil, you decide to ask a question.

Anon: At a movie theater which arm rest is yours?

Trixie: Do they bury people with their braces on?

Atlas: I really like this Vinyl- not that I don’t like you! It’s just... normally, they mess you up.

Anon: Yeah, you can tell she likes to have fun, but takes her career seriously. I think this is a very well balanced Vinyl.

Vinyl: Yeah, if I knew this chick, I’d be friends with her.

You nod, thankful for the explaination. She suddenly gets a bright look in her eye

Anon: It was on that day Vinyl discovered she was part kryptonian.

and starts writing.

        Vinyl: Knowing the anon’s condition, I’d gladly hire him or her as an assistant.

You look at her with a raised eyebrow before taking the pencil back.

Trixie: Vinyl: “I got an itch right on my back I can’t quite reach. Scratch it for me?”

Atlas: YEAHHHHHH!~

She just looks at you with a smirk before writing.

Anon: You’re not going to ask why she kissed the edged of the paper and wrote her name with hearts.

Atlas: Wait for it, Anon. Wait for it...

She tears off the address from the rest of the page and sets it in front of you. With a wave and another smile, she walks back towards the stage to pack her equipment.

        Vinyl: “All these fireworks aren’t gonna pack themselves!”

Anon: Now I’m imagining the scene with the wizard packing his stuff in The Sword in the Stone, but with Vinyl instead.

Vinyl: I need to watch more human movies.

You probably shouldn’t bother her with more questions if she is busy.

Trixie: I wonder if DJ’s have little contest against each other in a performance?

You walk out of the club with the address and a bubbly feeling of giddiness.

Atlas: ♫I’m pretty^[d], oh so pretty / I’m pretty and witty and gayyy and I pity any girl who isn’t me tonight!♫

Trixie: I can’t help but imagine this anon hopping around with a smile as wide as a road.

Tonight was a good night.

        Atlas: Now I imagine the anon being ponified Ice Cube.

Anon: “Okay, I’ll try to get some sleep...the second my heart stops trying to bust out of my chest.”

~~~~~

You walk down three blocks from the bakery towards 5th street. The store was there.

Trixie: You blinked and now it’s not there. Blinking twice makes it appear again.

Atlas: I give you a hamburger...

An old two-story brick building painted white with the sign “Scratch Record Store” over the front door.

Anon: With a sign to the side that read, “No, we do not accept scratched records.”

A large window displays pieces of musical merchandise along with a sign advertising cassettes, CDs, and, as the name would imply, records.^[e]

        Atlas: Look at all the merchandise!

        Vinyl: I even made plushies of myself.

As you walk to the door, a sign catches your eye.

Anon: Literally. The enchantment still needs a few bugs ironed out.

The store’s business hours. It said they close at five today, but didn’t the note tell you to come at six?

        Atlas: Ohohohoho! Secret loving time!

Trixie: Vinyl offers you a cupcake and you eat it. You fall down to the floor in sudden slumber.

Anon: Remember when Cupcakes was the worst fic in the fandom? Good times...

Vinyl: I don’t even wanna know what that is.

You push lightly on the door with a hoof. It opens. You walk in slowly, a little cautious that ponies might not be welcome here at this time.

Anon: It doesn’t help that the place seemed deserted and evil children music plays.

You look around and see aisles of racks of music. Categorized by media: CDs, tapes, records, and more.

Trixie: Some even in morse code.

Atlas: The adult section’s in the back.

Categorized by genre: rock, pop, rap, jazz, metal, classical, and many more to list.

Anon: There’s even a small rack of vuvuzelas and yodeling genres.

Vinyl: I’m not much of a fan of pop, but some of it’s pretty good.

Atlas: It amazes me how most people think Vinyl is only into dubstep, which is absurd.

Trixie: I...don’t seem to recall her playing any dubstep at that one party Rarity hosted.

Categorized by bands alphabetically, none of which you knew.

Anon: There was one album called The Cutie Mark Rockers. It sounded cute.

Atlas: Gee whiz, I wonder why.

On the walls were some posters of ponies with instruments, some yelling into microphones. Some posters simply of a band’s logo.

Trixie: Others simply had the bands name on a white background. It’s suppose to be “artsy” or something.

Vinyl: “We played our songs using only our tummies as bongos. We’re innovators!”

Some of them had autographs scribbled on them.

Trixie: Some of them had lipstick marks. You couldn’t tell if this was part of the poster or the leftovers of some over eager fanatic.

Anon: Speaking of which, I keep getting death threats in the mail addressed to me along with your fan letters, Trixie. Something about me stealing a “waifu” or something, whatever that is.

Atlas: “Oh waifu, you so funny! (creepy face)”

The front counter was a glass case with a cash register sitting on top of it. The case contained some cords and pedals and other things you aren’t quite sure of,

Vinyl: “Welcome to my lab, where I resurrect the dead. Muahahaha!”

all for various prices. On the wall behind it are a couple guitars, a keyboard, and some records sets in big boxes.

Anon: There were even a cowbell section.

Atlas: Still needs more cowbell.

As you look around, you notice a flight of old metal stairs leading up to a door.

Trixie: The room districts in a flash of erratic colors for a tic in time, then nothing.

Anon: You knew you shouldn't have mixed your medicine with soda today.

It opens to reveal the DJ, only this time without her shades. She looks at you with her magenta eyes and smiles,

Anon: Wait, now they’re green. Now they’re purple. There also seems to be a bunch of people bickering about what color they actually are.

Trixie: Does Vinyl have pink eye?

Vinyl: ...why are they magenta? I mean, that’s not bad but...

Atlas: “Blue Eyes White Dragon!”

walking down the stairs and ducking under a sign that says “DO NOT ENTER” 

        Vinyl: “ADULTS ONLY SECTION.”

        Atlas: Vinyl: “Watch out for bats!”

hung across with chain. She walks over to the door and turns a latch with her hoof to lock it. She motions for you to follow her as she ducks under the sign and walks up the stairs again.

Anon: It says, “DO NOT ENTER,” but she wants me to go in. I can’t because it says I shouldn’t enter, but I— BRAIN IS AT MAX CAPACITY.

Atlas: That’s a pretty low capacity, dude.

Anon: I guess he forgot his external hard drives.

You unhook the chain, move around it, and put the hook back when you reach the stairs. The door at the top opens into a hallway with four doors, two on each side.

        Vinyl: Here’s a hint, one of them has a tiger behind it. The other three have lions.^[f]

You see the DJ go into the first door on the right.

Trixie: The door on the left leads to a dimension of eternal snacks and joy. Or, it’s the bathroom, one or the other.

Atlas: “Do not pass go. Do not collect $200!”

You follow her and nearly stumble on some wires that lay across the floor.

        Atlas: “Shh! Don’t set off the C4, idiot!”

        Vinyl: “Ya know how expensive it would be to replace those explosives?”

You look and see her give you an apologetic look

Trixie: (squee)

Anon: That noise...so cute.

before picking up a notepad and pencil with her magic. As she writes, you look around. There are two big

        Atlas: -spiders.

speakers facing the center of the room. Between them is a turntable like the one she performs with at the club, hooked up to a pair of computer monitors.

        Vinyl: Why does that sound so similar to what we have?

        Atlas: Well, I might’ve taken some notes from this fic...

Shelves of records align one wall while shelves of CDs align another. A poster of herself is hung over the monitors. It reads, “Vinyl Scratch: DJ PON3” 

Vinyl: I haven’t used that stage name since... last april at least. So like a year now. How old is this fic again?

Atlas: February of last year, I think. It’s kind of ancient.

Vinyl: Oh, that might explain a thing or two.

and depicts her playing on a turntable in front of a crowd with lasers and glowsticks.

Anon: That easily could be a movie poster.

Vinyl Scratch. Was that her name?

Trixie: Or maybe a secret alias.

Anon: Hitmare, starring Vinyl Scratch.

Atlas: “Get out of there, Agent 47!”

Suddenly, she holds the notepad up for you to read.

Anon: Vinyl: “My older sister often comes in here and starts to break things with her maniacal limb flailing she calls ‘dancing.’ ”

Vinyl: “For all your crazy and disastrous experiments.”

She sweeps around the room with a hoof dramatically.

Trixie: “Ta da!”

Atlas: “For my next trick, I shall turn this sheep inside out!”

You motion for the notepad. She holds it up with her magic for you to write.

        Atlas: Again, it doesn’t say how you write.

Anon: “We’re going to jam so loud, you’re going to get your hearing back! Wait...”

Vinyl: “We’ll rock out so hard that you’ll lose your... nevermind.”

Instead of answering, she smiles and puts the notepad down while walking over to the turntable. She puts on some huge headphones that reminds you of the kind construction ponies wear when they use loud tools.

Trixie: Does this Vinyl demolish buildings with the power of bass?^[g]

Anon: Talk about bringing down the house.

Vinyl: You have no idea how loud bass can get.

Atlas: Or how many earthquakes it causes.

You sigh a little inwardly and resume looking around the room.

Anon: ...why do the words Miss Me echo in my mind?

Atlas: GODDAMNIT! (pukes into a trashcan) I can’t believe you reminded me of that.

Anon: Do...I want to know?

        Vinyl: I don’t wanna know either, but from what I can tell, I feel sorry for you.

As you let your eyes wander, you feel a wave wash over you,

Trixie: Must have been the dinner Vinyl had.

Vinyl: “Wow, that pizza went right through me.”

like needles poking into your skin and throbbing. You grimace and double over,

Trixie: Hopefully in laughter and not pain.

but as soon as it had started, it stops. You look up to the DJ (Vinyl Scratch?)

        Vinyl: Yeah, that’s my name, don’t wear it out!

        Atlas: You think to yourself... ♫How’d I get up in this tree?♫

who takes a hoof off of the turntable and runs beside you, her eyes filled with worry. She quickly grabs the notepad again.

        Vinyl: Aww, that’s nice of me.

Anon: Your dancing is so bad she thought you were dying.

Trixie: “It was like watching a hot air balloon crash into a puppy hospital.”

        Atlas: “In other words, it was awesome!”

You nod and gesture for the pencil.

        Atlas: You’re thinking, ‘Somepony fetch me a nipple!’

Anon: “My dishwasher backing up.”

Atlas: “I forgot to flush the toilet.”

You feel the pencil being lifted from your mouth.

        Vinyl: Oh, so that’s how you write.

You nod again.

Anon: You’re sure the feeling in your face will come back by weeks end.

Atlas: You feel like Sylvester Stallone without any Oscars.

Trixie: If the anon passes out from the beat, is that a good or bad thing?

Anon: I guess that depends if he’s smiling or not.

Atlas: Or if he or she is still alive. But smiling is more important.^[h]

She looks at you with a confident smile before wrapping a foreleg around your shoulder. Her touch is soft and warm.

Anon: You pound your nose into her mane and inhale deeply.

Vinyl: The smack to your face was totally worth it.

Atlas: ‘You smell like a rat crawled onto your mane and died.’

She pulls you a bit closer.

Trixie: “This isn’t my real mane color.”

Vinyl: “Tell me your secrets, deaf pony.”

Helping her. You felt yourself swelling with excitement,

Anon: Eyes bugging out of your skull, you hover in the air, hearts floating around your head.

Atlas: So if this is a guy... what part of him is swelling?^[i]

almost like you were about to lift of the ground at any moment.

Trixie: Reminds me of the time Anon did that very same thing.

Anon: Wait, when did I...oh, right. (crimson) That was an awesome day.

Atlas: Also, I’ve discovered an error in your writing, sir!

If the wonderful DJ needs your help, you will be there, rain or shine.

        Atlas: Even if it rains fire and Nickleback albums, you’ll be there.

        Vinyl: Even if you die^[j], you’ll come back as a zombie to be there.

Anon: ♫I’d breathe fire~ and ash~, all for the sake~ of love!~ I’ll die a thousand deaths~, all for the sake~ of love!~♫

With a single nod, you agree.

~~~~~

        Vinyl: Wibbly wibbly WOO!^[k]

The next few weeks are interesting.

        Atlas: Which is why we’re not gonna read about them.

Trixie: You somehow gained the powers to end all suffering in the world, but enough about that.

You meet with Vinyl (as you learned was, in fact, her real name)

        Vinyl: I don’t get it, does it sound like a fake name?

Anon: I guess he--or she--was so used to your stage name or something.

 in “the lab,” as she calls it,

Atlas: You decide to remember her as Dexter from now on.

after the shop closes to begin experimenting with beats and rhythms. Some are fast and made you want to move.

        Atlas: Ian Malcolm: “Must go faster!”

Anon: Adrian Monk: “Make it go--make it go faster!”^[l]

 Some are slow and pleasant, like standing in a warm shower.

Trixie: Or at the beach on a nice day.

Atlas: Or chillaxing in the seventh circle of hell.

Some tickle, some hurt, some made you feel anxious or relaxed.

Vinyl: Music is the best kind of drug. Remember, kids.

She writes questions and you answer with your own observations as she copies your findings into other notebooks.

Anon: “How did you bleed out your ears if you’re deaf?”

Atlas: “I’ll take your nose bleeding as a good sign^[m].”

Over the time you got to work with her, you find yourself admiring her even more.

(Anon places his hand on Trixie’s shoulder and holds her close)

Anon: (smiles) This reminds how I started to like you, oh great one.

Her usual enthusiasm is always infectious and there is something cute about the way she pouts when trying to find the perfect pitch.

        Vinyl: I think somepony deserves a hug!

        Atlas: You’d hug yourself? Wait, if this Vinyl would be like a clone of you...

 There are also times that the two of you just hang out that you very much enjoy. You maybe get something to eat and talk about the musical things in her store, personal things going on, or just about anything.

Trixie: “And I take your silence that you agree with everything I said about euthanasia.”

Atlas: “So how about them Red Sox, eh?”

Vinyl: They’re not so much talking as writing to each other, but aside from that, that looks like what me and Attly do a lot of the time.

Atlas: Whenever I have free time, yeah. Don’t forget about all the practicing we do here either.

Notebook upon notebook are filled with your conversations.

Anon: Death Note meme here.

Atlas: Vinyl: “I’m gonna take a potato chip... and EAT IT!”

Then came her first show since you started. The lights flash, the ponies dance, and you were backstage

        Atlas: Holy shit tense change!

 behind the turntable giving various signals to the DJ about whether to raise the treble, slow the beat, or anything to be able to make the music feel as good as you imagine it sounds.

Vinyl: Since a deaf pony has a strong sense of touch, and since bass is mostly a vibration, this would be pretty darn effective.

Trixie: Does he wiggle a left foreleg to raise the treble and swish his tail to lower the bass?

Anon: Deaf pony is lord of the dance.

Atlas: The book was better though.

She yells something over the audience.

Anon: “Finish him!”

Vinyl: “Crowd surfing!”

They all raise a hoof before stomping the ground.

Atlas: Suddenly, Freddie Mercury is on stage.

Anon: ♫You got four notes in your range; you can’t act and you can’t dance/ I’m more powerful than you and I’m wearing womens pants!♫

With that, Vinyl’s show is over. The ponies begin to exit as you help her pack up her equipment.

Trixie: Hammer, nails, some pipe wrenches...^[n]

You catch her staring off every now and again into the lingering crowd of ponies finishing up their last drinks. Mostly couples, marefriends and coltfriends,

        Atlas: ...this fic is old as dirt so I’ll give that a pass.

Trixie: And fillyfriends and stallionfriends and griffonfriends...

Vinyl: And there was a donkey^[o] there for some reason.

 laughing with each other. As you finish packing all the wires into bags, you look over to see a very somber expression on Vinyl’s face.

Anon: Ow. There goes my heart again.

        Atlas: “It’s not easy being a Spanish shadow king.”

You pull out your notebook and write before getting her attention.

        Vinyl: “Your face.”

She stares at it before she takes the pencil with her magic.

Anon: “The cheese.”

You look at her message with confusion. Was it a piece of equipment? A certain rhythm she meant to use? Perhaps she left her wallet at her store?

        Atlas: “Last time I lock myself out of my apartment.”

Before you can ponder it fully, she writes again.

        Atlas: Bow chicka bow wow.

She walks off with her things before you can respond. You guess you’ll just have to wait.

Trixie: Seven years later...^[p]

~~~~~

Anon: Do the wave, everyone!

Vinyl: Beware of the squiggly lines of DOOM!

You decide to head off for Vinyl’s shop early that day. If whatever you had forgotten was important you don’t want to waste any time getting to the lab to help her.

        Atlas: ‘My mane is on fire, but that’s not important right now!’

Walking in just a few minutes past closing, you notice that Vinyl is currently ringing up a customer. A purple unicorn with a dark violet mane along with a colt who is furiously blushing and hiding his face.

Anon: (smiles) I see what you did there, author.

Trixie: That colt reminds me of someone. (nudges Anon) I wonder who?

Vinyl seems surprised by your early arrival.

        Vinyl: “What’d you use, a time machine?”

With a sheepish grin,

Trixie: (squee)

Anon: That noise again.

she puts a hoof around the back of her neck as she levitates the notepad in front of her.

        Atlas: Something something controlling ejaculations something...

Trixie: “Or the dead body in the corner of the room.”

You shrug. Vinyl’s place wasn’t the cleanest you’ve ever seen, but you think you can handle it. You gesture for the notepad.

        Atlas: It was the meds’ fault!

Anon: ‘I haven’t showered in months, so I’m good.’

She smiles before taking the pencil.

        Vinyl: Not like you could say anything in the first place.

You follow her up the metal stairs and into the lab.

...Wow. Wires were strewn everywhere, equipment of all kinds is scattered around, and crumpled papers litter everywhere they could be.

Trixie: How did she get inside Anon’s room?

Anon: Hey, it’s not that...wait, how do you know?

Trixie: Your reaction gave it away.

She immediately uses her magic to scoot some of it around while giving you an apologetic look.

Trixie: (squee)

Anon: My heart is about to explode.

        Atlas: That tends to happen when you eat too many hamburgers.

You shrug again to let her know it’s fine.

        Vinyl: These two are pretty cute together. They’d make a good couple, I think. Wait...

As she sets aside the last pile of stuff, she takes brings up the notepad again. You look over her shoulder to see her write.

        Atlas: ‘I’m a snake now. Snakes are cool.’

You nod.

Anon: “I want you to bite on this live wire to complete the electric current.”

Trixie: “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. It’s how I style my hair.”

Vinyl: “Next week, I’ll show you how I dye my mane red.”

She pauses before continuing writing.

        Atlas: “Watch me as I become overly dramatic!”

Another pause as you notice a tiny bit of blush on her face.

        Vinyl: Awww!

She gives you another coy smile.

Anon: ‘Yes for the love of everything good in the world YES--I mean, sure, whatever.’

        Atlas: Ohohoho! This is so... goddamnit, I kinda wish Tavi was here to see this.

You could only stare at the page while your mind processes the words on it. Physical contact was shared between you two before: high hoofs, hoof shakes, forelegs wrapped around each others shoulders, even a full hug here and there.

        Vinyl: That’s the way ya do it!

Trixie: She even nibbled and kissed your neck a few times.

Anon: You’ve been married to her for years.

Atlas: ....I’m not gonna ask why you said that, Trixie. Nope! (Applejack look-away)

But this... this was to reproduce conditions as if you two were truly together. You feel a little warmth in your cheeks,

Trixie: The room won’t stop spinning.

Anon: Rivers of your technicolor yawn sprayed across the room.

Vinyl: Isn’t this fic adorable or is it just me?

guessing that you’re blushing a bit like her.

Still, you simply nod, happy to be of service.

Atlas: In the words of an awesome human in Equestria, “It’s time to give you the attention you deserve.”

Her smile turns a little more genuine as she puts on her special headphones and walks over to the turntable.

Anon: The headphones are possessed by a dark spirit. It fills her head full of the most horrible images it can dredge up.

Atlas: Like RagingSemi and darf collaborating on a clopfic^[q], and then have Hotsauce be the editor. (shudders)

Twisting some knobs and positioning some sliders, she walks back to you, taking position in front of the speakers.

Anon: The bass of the speakers is so intense it blows Vinyl into the air.

Trixie: Vinyl: “Weee!”

Vinyl: “I can see my everything from here!”

You look forward and start leaning yourself slightly to the side. You feel the hair of your fur begin to mix with Vinyl’s,

Anon: “Wonder Twin Powers, activate!”

but stop, unsure how far to go. However, she leans herself, slowly pressing her length against you.

        Atlas: ...why. Why was futa the first thing I thought of when I read that? WHY.

Her body feels so warm under her white fur.

Anon: Hair. Her white hair.

        Atlas: Calm down, the world isn’t ending because an ancient fic made a tiny mistake.

Trixie: (hammily) Keep it up, Anon, and you’ll get no ice cream.

Anon: (faux wines) But, Trixie~

You can feel her breathing in and out.

        Vinyl: So hang on, is this a clopfic?

        Atlas: No, but it does get pretty close to that...

The two of you stand there against each other for a few moments. You notice her horn light up, her magical aura highlighting the ON button before you feel a rhythm.

        Atlas: “I always wanted to build a time machine, but father wouldn’t let me.”

The process goes as any normal testing day would. You feel the beat thumping, the sensations dance across your skin,

Anon: You feel the touch, you feel the POWER.

but this time it was a new experience as you also feel them through Vinyl as your bodies are against each.

Trixie: You can also feel the food she ate churn in her stomach somehow.

They seem to pass the beats back and forth making the moment feel more... intimate.

        Atlas: (tries not to smirk but fails miserably)

Every time a beat ends she would go back to the turntable to make her necessary adjustments and write down her notes.

Trixie: (fake taking notes) “He smells nice, has a soft touch and a warm-- Oh no, am I saying this out loud?! Oh, wait, you can’t hear me.”

Anon: ‘No, but I can read lips.’

She asks you what you think and you respond, all as if everything was normal, except for a lack of her normal enthusiasm.

        Vinyl: Lemme guess, he’s not noticing her attraction to him.

        Atlas: Still not as nearly as dense as Anon was though.

Anon: (rubs the back of his neck, smiling) Yeah, it was so~ obvious. I’m not sure why I’m so dumb.

You notice that she tries to avoid looking at you. That she hesitates every time you need to put yourselves together. That she sometimes runs up to the turntable as if happy to get away from you.

Trixie: Turns out the anon has a dead wood chuck in their mane.

You wonder why and your mind wanders in the possibilities, making you doubt yourself more and more with every passing moment.

        Vinyl: Poor thing... he thinks she doesn’t like him anymore.

Trixie: His self esteem must constantly be in the gutter.

What if she doesn’t really want to do this? That pressing up against you is unpleasant for her? What if she is disgusted by it?

Anon: (blinks a few times) Huh. This seems so...close to home.

You think about your time with her. Had the work she shared with you, the time you spent together; had it been out of pity because of your condition?

        Atlas: ♫What condition my condition was in!♫

And to think that you had... That you still...

Trixie: Had that thing... With the place...

Atlas: With the ponies...

You sigh and sit on your haunches as she readies the next rhythm. She looks over and pulls out a notebook and pencil. She writes something,

Atlas: Princess Something.

but hesitates again, making you feel worse. Eventually she floats it over for you to see.

        Vinyl: ‘What is my life?!’

Trixie: He’s not noticing the most obvious signs of attraction towards you.

Anon: The poor guy probably thinks this fantastic mare is way out of his league in every way.

Trixie: I...see.

You hang your head for a moment before gesturing for the pencil.

Trixie: Your head is delivered to the gallows.

        Atlas: Okay, this is starting to sound rather uncanny.

She looks surprised at your words before writing again.

        Vinyl: “That’s because there’s^[r] an alligator in the studio...”

        Atlas: “And raptors in the kitchen!”

A guilty look appears on her face as you continue to write.

Anon: “Does he know of the rats I rub into my mane?!”

        Atlas: Wow, um... this is...

A sense of grief settles in your chest as you write your next words.

        Vinyl: “I’M PREGNANT, AND YOU’RE THE FATHER.”^[s]

Anon: ‘But, the only thing I did was write to you!’

Trixie: “They were such sexy words!”

Trixie: ‘--with a better affliction.”

You suddenly feel hooves on your forelegs interrupting your note.

Anon: “Hit the deck, there’s a sniper!”

You look up at Vinyl who is looking directly at you and saying something, but you do not know what.

Trixie: Vinyl is speaking in several languages at once.^[t]

She picks up the notebook with her magic again.

        Atlas: This is actually kind of sad to me.

        Vinyl: Okay, I know I’ve said something like this before.

Looking at her, you can’t help but question her recent actions. She sees this and begins to write more.

        Vinyl: (leans forward in her seat)

She lifts the pencil up in a pause before continuing.

Anon: “I’m an alien and I must return to my people.”^[u]

She lifts it up again, looking at you. This was the complete opposite you’ve ever seen her. Instead of happy and outgoing, she looks despairing and withdrawn.

Atlas: This is a pretty well balanced and developed Vinyl Scratch. Why can’t more people do that right with her?

Anon: Because it’s not the “famous” version, and if anyone tries anything different, no one will notice EVER.

Vinyl: Maybe that’s why I’m not famous by now. (frowns) They just give me weird looks a lot of the time.

You can’t help but feel responsible for this in some way. More bitter shame piles onto the amount you were feeling for making tonight so awkward.

        Vinyl: Anypony else getting the feeling that this anon and our Anon are kinda...?

Trixie: It’s uncanny.

Anon: Oh, what? No it’s...wait...

She puts the pencil back on the page of the notebook. You both just sit there, waiting for the words to come out on the paper. Why would she ever say you’re perfect?

Trixie: Does she have to spell it out to you? Wait...

Atlas: Give him a break, it’s not like he’s totally oblivious to it.

Why would she ever really like somepony who’s deaf?

Anon: Oh, come on, Anon, you gotta build yourself up! You’re a pretty nice guy, and... (it slowly dawns on him)--oh wow. Uh...

        Vinyl: Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

The pencil and notebook begin to tremble.

Trixie: Vinyl keeps forgetting how to spell certain words and keeps rewriting the same sentence over and over.

She’s obviously having trouble writing it down. You just sigh, look downward, and close your eyes. You really wish you can just have her say it. You wish everything didn’t have to be so difficult with you.

        Atlas: Good god it’s like the author knows you, Anon!

Anon: I...don’t know what to say...

You begin to feel something. Air faintly blowing over you with a light scent of mint and vanilla...

        Vinyl: ‘Who left the window open?’

You open your eyes to see Vinyl has moved much closer to you,

Trixie: Your noses bounce off each other in a BOOP.

making you nearly jump back in surprise.

Anon: Out the window.

The pencil and notebook are on the floor. She stares intensely at you before closing her eyes like you did. Instead of looking downward, she leans forward and touches her lips to yours.

        Atlas: BOO-YAH! That’s how it’s done, baby! Whoo!

        Vinyl: (smiles and hugs Atlas) This is so familiar, but in a good way.

It is very brief. The contact is soft, like silk.

Anon: (reddens) Y-Yeah, it was a lot like that. I-I mean...damn it.

(Trixie grabs hold of Anon’s hand, and their eyes lock)

Trixie: It was pretty great, wasn’t it?

Anon: (smiling) Yeah.

Even in the short time, the taste of her is distinctive.

        Atlas: (smiling like a goof) Vanilla... Sorry, go on.

You feel a shiver of delight run through your body. In a single moment, all of the despair you were feeling was gone. Replacing it was a light sense of bewilderment over a growing sense of exhilaration.

(Anon and Trixie giggle)

Vinyl: (eyes Anon and Trixie suspiciously)

When she opens her eyes again, she looks deep into yours. She looks pleading, almost desperate.

Anon: Please don’t just sit there like an idiot for too long... I still feel bad about that.

Atlas: I’m still surprised by that.

Her eyes with a sheen as if tears are about to form. The sensation still fresh in your mind, you feel the sides of your mouth turn upward.

        Vinyl: YAY!

 Spreading across your face in as big a smile as you can.

        Atlas:

You lean in to touch your lips together again, for a moment longer.

Trixie: It was like a wave of tender energy enveloping you to your very core. There is nothing else but you, her and the kiss.

Atlas: Who are you, F. Scott Fitzgerald?

Vinyl: Nah, she’s just embracing the love.

(Trixie nuzzles Anon's cheek with a cheerful little sigh. Anon returns the nuzzle with gusto)

You pull back, she looks in disbelief, a smile forming over her own beautiful face. To extinguish any sort of doubt, you

Anon: --shoot her face with a fire extinguisher.

Atlas: ♫We didn’t start the fire!♫

nod your head slightly in assurance.

Her smile grows back

Trixie: She has been needing to water her smile for a while now.

into the confident, spunky personality you’ve grown to admire. She lunges at you, wrapping both hooves around your neck,

        Atlas: ‘Would you please stop choking me?’

Anon: “Just let it happen.”

pressing her lips against yours more forcefully than before.

        Vinyl: “Let me in already!”

Now dependant on you for balance, you keep your hooves on the ground and just lean into her as much as you could.

Anon: What was once a heartfelt moment is now a game of mercy with each other faces.

You feel her lips begin to part as you let her tongue slip into your mouth.

        Atlas: Damn, that escalated quickly!

Trixie: Your tongue is now sharing pleasantries and stories with hers.

Your tongues meet for a second before she pulls away again. You’re confused as she lets go of you, but seeing her smirk lets you know she has something planned.

        Atlas: “I have generous plans for you, lover boy.”

Anon: “It’s time to clean my room, but all sensual like and stuff.”

She wraps a hoof around your foreleg as she leads you down the hall.

Anon: And throws you down the basement stairs.

She opens the last door on the left and brings you inside.

        Vinyl: Wow, this is escalating quickly.

A bed with white linen sheets and blue blanket sits against the wall next to a nightstand across the room from a dresser.

        Atlas:

Some papers and pencils are scattered around the floor.

Trixie: Some of those papers had drawings of Vinyl saving you from a monster.

Anon: You don’t ask why you’re the one wearing the pink dress.

Vinyl: You also don’t ask why her mane is purple now.

You don’t get to take in the scene long before you’re shoved onto the aforementioned bed. At this point, you realize the beat research has been put on hold.

        Atlas: Oh my...

Climbing on top of you, Vinyl begins to speckle your chest with light kisses before making her way up your neck back to your lips.

        Vinyl: (lightly blushing) This is... this is, uh-

        Atlas: The intensity just went from 1 to 11 in about five sentences.

(Trixie wiggles her eyebrows at Anon, smiling)

Trixie: This story has some nice ideas, huh, Anon?

Anon: (crimson)

She will not be denied entry

        Atlas: Your anus is more than prepared. Wait... GAH!

 as she forces her tongue into your mouth yet again.

Anon: And it somehow exits out of your ear.^[v]

As your tongues dance with passion between each others mouths,

Anon: ♫Hey, macarena!♫

        Atlas: Remember, it takes two to tango.

she wraps her hooves around your head. She pulls you closer, kissing as hard and hungrily as possible.

Trixie: She’s been dead the entire time.

Anon: “Brains...”

Vinyl: “Must eat!”

It’s incredible seeing that she wants this as much as you do, if not more. You wrap your hooves around her back and neck as you feel her exhale into your mouth.

Trixie: ‘I can taste what you had for dinner.’

You push her away breaking the kiss and gasp for air. You see Vinyl still has her mouth open, wanting more.

        Atlas: “Please, sir, may I have more?”

        Vinyl: “Can I have more chocolate pudding?”

She closes her lips in a smile, her tongue still sticking out not yet ready to go back yet.

Trixie: (blows raspberries)

She slides down and drags her tongue across your jawline. You shiver with pleasure feeling her warmth leave a moist trail across your fur.

        Atlas: ...Anon, if you say what-

(Anon is scratching Trixie’s ears, distracted)

Anon: (blinks) I’m sorry, what was that?

Atlas: I was gonna say that the Germans won the war, but that’s not important right now.

 She scoots over, lying down beside you as she continues to taste around your neck.

Trixie: There’s a lot of food stuck to your neck.

She eventually makes it back up to your lips where you close your eyes and reconnect,

Anon: Your system has crashed and forced a restart.

softer this time. She pulls you closer as you enjoy the embrace, tongues and lips moving in harmony. She shifts her weight, rolling the two of you so you lie on top of her.

        Vinyl: This is getting a little... are you sure this isn’t clop?

        Atlas: It’s almost clop, but it’s more sensual than anything else.

The kiss breaks again,

Trixie: “Augh, and I just bought the smile!”

Vinyl: “That cost me 900 bits, idiot!”

this time delicately and slowly. You feel the panting of her hot breath across your face as you begin to lean upwards on your hooves against the mattress.

Anon: (grimly) That’s when the mattress pulls you into itself. Horrible, gutting noises emanate from its bowels and disgorge the gore that once was you all over Vinyl’s face. She wipes her face clean and smiles.

Vinyl: ...why, Anon? Anon, why?

(Anon laughs under his breath)

Her hooves simply fall from where they were holding you. She smiles again with a look of sly confidence.

Atlas: It’s at times like this where either Liam Neeson, Morgan Freeman, or Roy Kelly reading this out loud would make it a lot hotter than it actually is. FACT.^[w][x]

Looking at a pencil and notepad next to the nightstand, she puts a hoof behind her head casually as she grabs them with her magic.

Trixie: Pretty bad time to write music notes now, isn’t it?

She writes two words before turning the note to you.

        Vinyl: “BEHIND YOU.”

Anon: “CALL POLICE.”

You feel your face turn even redder as you look at the page.

        Atlas and Anon: OOOOOOOOH!~

        Vinyl: (crimson)

She slides her other hoof behind her head, looking at you with a grin and lowered eyelids as she awaits your next move.

        Vinyl: “Checkmate.”

The notebook floats away as you look down into her soft magenta eyes.

Anon: Vinyl uses The Penance Stare.

You nervously gulp and, without knowing what else to do,

Trixie: --you don’t move for hours.

lean down and kiss her lips which she readily complies. Pulling away, you bring your lips to her cheek. And then her neck.

        Atlas: Then her ears, then her nose, then...

You kiss tenderly, lower and lower and use a hoof to slowly rub along where you had been.

Anon: You decide not to pretend Vinyl is a turntable.

You feel her chest rise and fall and you go.

As you kiss down to her stomach, you notice something.

        Atlas: She has no belly button.

Anon: And must scream.

Something your hoof had come across rubbing her chest.

Trixie: Ticks.

Vinyl: Tiny mousies.

It felt like...

        Atlas: -boobs. Vinyl is humanized now.

        Discord: Your wish is my command.

        Atlas: ...did anyone else hear that?

(Trixie and Anon have their eyes closed, with the former resting her head on Anon’s arm)

Anon: Hmm, what now?

Atlas: And I thought I can be oblivious sometimes.

a beat. There was a beat inside Vinyl.

        Atlas: Chest burster!

You lift your head up, getting a perplexing look from the white unicorn as you try to find it with your hoof.

thm-thump

thm-thump

thm-thump

        Vinyl: Ohhh, he found my heartbeat.

Trixie: Or you keep a spare speaker in your chest.

Atlas: In case of speaker emergencies.

It is there. In her chest. A beat in the core of this beautiful, wonderful mare.

Anon: You must have it as part of your collection.

You need to get closer. You nuzzle it with your muzzle as you

Trixie: Waggle and wiggle.

feel it again, but it’s faster now.

        Atlas: ♫Sonic, he’s the fastest thing alive!♫

You kiss it.

You kiss it again.

        Atlas: Kali ma shakti de.

You begin to lick at the spot of the amazing beat.

Anon: It’s...delicious.

It is like no other Vinyl had ever produced. You want more of it. To feel it. See it. Taste it.

Anon: Er, I was only joking before.

Vinyl: Yeah, I’m a bit worried about the anon now.

You feel her hooves rest on your head as you kiss, lick, and rub your face into her chest.

Trixie: You then tickle her tummy.

Anon: ♫”One hundred kisses from the angels on my tummy!”♫

        Vinyl: Give me the song, Anon. Anon, GIVE. ME. THE SONG.

Anon: (smirks devilishly)

Her sharp breaths flow through your mane.

        Atlas: ‘How are we flying now?’

Suddenly, she pulls your head up from her chest. You both are breathing hard as she looks at you with a bit of confusion.

        Vinyl: “You’re a very strange guy, ya know that?”

 You simply stare back as you try to catch your breath.

        Atlas: “You’ve been doing that for six hours.”

Trixie: Neither of you mind.

She just smiles again with a raised eyebrow as her hoof glides off of your cheek and down your neck.

Anon: “Why do you feel like steel?”

Vinyl: ‘Little does she know that I’m a dog.’

She begins to trail it around your chest.

Atlas: “This is where we make our surprise attack.”

However, she gradually slows down to a stop. Her eyes start to light up as she her hoof presses against a certain point.

        Atlas: The spot that is never mentioned by na- wait, this isn’t a clopfic. Nevermind!

She leans herself upward and begins to nuzzle the spot.

Anon: ‘Um, that’s my rash. It’s green now. I think I need to see a doctor.’

A soft, tender kiss against your chest confirms it. Like you, she has found a beat within your body. And she wants more.

        Vinyl: I’m a bit weirded out by this, but...

Trixie: ‘Why are you biting your lips?’

Her kissing gives way to gentle licking as your hoof travels up to her chest to feel her beat again. Unfortunately, you cannot satisfy your need for it with just that.

Anon: A quick knife wound alleviates the problem.

Atlas: ‘Welp, time to sacrifice her to the kitchen sink demon.’

You try to lean over, eventually sliding down and causing you and Vinyl to lay on the mattress in opposite directions,

Trixie: Bouncing off the mattress and onto the floor.

Anon: “Whee-THUMP-ow!”

your hooves wrapped around each other’s backs. You kiss her chest as she licks and nuzzles yours, the sensation somehow even better knowing she’s feeling the same thing.

        Atlas: This is quite possibly the sexiest non-sex scene ever.

This continues until you feel Vinyl slowing down. Her licking going to a few gentle kisses to simple nuzzling, finally to just laying with her head pressing against you.

Trixie: She has entered the forever sleep.

Atlas: She has been sent to the shadow realm!

Vinyl: ‘Can’t. Breathe!’

You feel the slow rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, her breath blowing across your fur,

Anon: It was like a leaf blower.

Atlas: “Okay, fuck it, I lied. It’s drum and bass.”

and her inner beat is slowing down itself.

Trixie: Her heart was dancing a more somber tone.

Anon: Heart: “Dang it, where are those CD’s?”

Vinyl: “I told the kidney to give ‘em back to me!”

You look down to see Vinyl staring back at you smiling. She gives you another little peck on the lips.

Anon: Yep, it happened. My heart just melted.

Atlas: My heart melted a while back. Now it’s more of a feeling of peace and love... brah.

She opens her mouth.

Trixie: Vinyl munches on your nuzzle.

Her tongue rises up and flicks out from behind her top front teeth, before her bottom lip rises to do the same.

Anon: Vinyl is now a raptor. You can’t unthink it.

Atlas: Oh god you’re right! It’s like if...

Vinyl: I always wondered, what is a “raptor” though?

Anon: I think Atlas needs to show you a certain movie^[y].

        Atlas: You’re right, I need to get on that.

Her lips form into an O shape before returning to the shape of the smile.

        Vinyl: Awww!

Anon: Hmm, Twi and Me had the same descriptions... nah.

You almost feel like tears could be forming in your eyes. Happiness was dancing around in your chest against her cheek.

Trixie: They were dancing the rumba.

Atlas: Back to the Chest 2: Electric Boo-boo-boo.

However, you feel your eyelids start to become heavier. Looking up to a clock on the nightstand, you see just how much time had passed during your time together.

Trixie: “Five WEEKS?!”

Anon: That’s a really fancy clock.

Vinyl: Too bad the clock’s been broken for 20 years.

Wondering what to do next, you look back at the wonderful white DJ, her eyes closed as she holds you tightly, obviously not wanting to let go.

Anon: She has found her new teddy bear.

Vinyl: I’ve had the same teddy bear since I was little. No seriously, it’s really old. I call him Mister Huggies...

With a smile, you breath a yawn through your nose as you rub your muzzle against Vinyl’s chest one last time before you close your eyes as well.

Trixie: All is right; all is calm.

Anon: That’s when her dad walks in her room.

Atlas: And then he joi- nevermind. This is too cute to ruin.

Anon: (laughs) Ha, yeah. Heartwarming and adorable fanfiction--oh how I’ve missed that.

Vinyl: I’m getting the impression there’s not a lot of that, huh?

Atlas: Wayyyy too little of stuff like this.

Trixie: (yawns and stretches her limbs) That was a really charming story. This was your first one, Atlas?

Atlas: Yep. First romance fic I ever read. This was back when I had a much more optimistic view of bronies, so I expected a lot more stories like this. How wrong I was.

Anon: Yeah, I hear that. (stomach growls) And I heard that as well.

Trixie: (smirks) Seems like someone’s hungry.

(Anon blushes and rubs the back of his neck, smiling)

Vinyl: Ya know, I’m kinda hungry too, and it’s not that late out. Maybe we can... go to a restaurant for dinner?

Anon: (get’s up and stretches a bit) Sounds like a plan to me. Trixie?

(He holds out his hand to help Trixie out of her seat)

Trixie: (smiles knowingly and takes his hand) Only if you’re buying.

Atlas: And I’m gonna show Vye a certain movie later, but for now, let’s eat!

        (The two couples exit the studio and the TV turns off with a blip.)^[z][aa][ab]