Ink Well & Anon (8/20/20)


                                            >Day Messing Around at the Office in Kinderquestria.

                                            >You are Anonymous, employee of the month for like a year running.

                                            >Mainly because you’re the only one who can stay on task for more than half an hour.

                                            >You stare blearily at the letter on your desk, penned in crayon.

                                            Dear Anon,


                                            I need a report on my desk by the end of the day. Make it cool!


                                            From Windsor Knot.

                                            >A report on WHAT, dammit?

                                            >He must need something neat to pass around at those “meetings” he attends.

                                            >You’re like 80% sure it’s just him and his friends in a conference room seeing who has the cooler thing to present.

                                            >Like competitive show-and-tell.

                                            >You’ve grown to accept that these little guys were basically kids who never grew up, but stuff like this drives you nuts.

                                            >You still had to do it though. Nobody else would hire your un-cutie-marked ass.

                                            >Last time this happened, you wrote “Super Secret Report in Invisible Ink that Idiots Can’t See” at the top of a blank page, but you nearly did jail time for that when the CEO burst into tears, thinking he was an idiot.

                                            >...He is, but you felt bad, so you said it was just a prank and that there was nothing there.

                                            >Everybody laughed and the charges got dropped.

                                            >So here you sit, rubbing your temples, trying figure out something cool to write for your boss.

                                            >The “Never Gonna Give You Up” lyrics?

                                            >You’re the only one who’d get the joke.

                                            >List of “your mom” jokes?

                                            >You’re pretty sure they’ve heard all yours already.

                                            >A drawing of a dick?

                                            >Always a crowd pleaser in middle school, but you’re pretty sure they’d report you for lewd behavior here.

                                            >Why the fuck is work still hard even in a place like this?

                                            >You faceplant into your desk, groaning.

                                            >Your office door opens.

                                            >”Is everything alright, Anon?”

                                            >In walks one of your coworkers, Ink Well.

                                            >She’s a cutie. Very boopable nose, and chest fluff extruding from the neckline of her blouse.

                                            “I gotta come up with a report for Windsor. No clue what to write.”

                                            >”You’re always working so hard! I can try and help, if you don’t mind.”

                                            “I’d like that, Ink.”

                                            >She clambers on top of your desk and sits across from you, looking down at the letter.

                                            >”Silly Windsor. He really didn’t give you much to go on there. Hmmm... Maybe... A list of cool facts?”

                                            >Well, it’s a start. If your old fascination with reading Snapple caps was anything to go by, random facts are kinda cool.

                                            “Okay. Know any cool facts?”

                                            >She puffs out her chest proudly, making her tuft even more prominent.

                                            >”You bet! Did you know that sea otters hold hooves when they sleep so they don’t drift apart? I think that’s really cute!”

                                            > You crack a smile as the first item of your Cool Facts Report is recorded.

                                            “I did not know that. Did you know that there’s only one type of shark that can breathe in both salt and fresh water? The bull shark.”

                                            >”Oh, neat! Scary, but neat. Hm. Okay, did you know that there’s over 7,500 different kinds of apple?”

                                            “What? That’s way too many.”

                                            >She giggles.

                                            >”But it’s true! I went on a tour of Appleoosa one time, the tour guide told me so.”

                                            “Crazy. So, how about this one? Did you know that hummingbirds can fly backwards?”

                                            >You two keep up your pleasant little back-and-forth, and the little mare actually surprises you with how much random trivia she knows.

                                            >It’s getting to the point where you’ve run out of facts of your own, but Ink Well seems to still be going strong.

                                            “You really know your stuff, Ink. We’ll say this was a joint project.

                                            >She smiles happily as you write her name next to yours under the title.

                                            >”Thanks, Anon! I have a couple more for you, if you don’t mind.”

                                            “Sure.”

                                            >”Did you knoooooow...”

                                            >She turns her head away, giving you a coquettish grin.

                                            >”That I saw you looking at my chest fluff?”

                                            >Aw, fuck. You thought you were being sneaky about it, too!

                                            “Well...”

                                            >Now that the secret’s out, you openly take another look at it.

                                            >Ink Well titters, covering up with her hooves.

                                            >”Lewd~.”

                                            “Maybe. But now I’ve got one for you.”

                                            >You lean forward, lightly booping her nose to punctuate your point.

                                            “Did you know that I’d love to rub my face in your chest fluff?”

                                            >She squeaks, face turning a shade of red visible even through her coat, but it turns into a bubbly laugh.

                                            >”Oooooo, naughty, mister. Buuuut... did you know... that I just might let you...”

                                            >Her front hooves slowly undo the top button on her blouse.

                                            >”If...”

                                            >Then the second button.

                                            >”You confirm one last bit of trivia for me. I heard a little rumor that human fingers feel great on pony ears...”

                                            >The third button comes undone, and she pulls the blouse open wide, revealing your personal fluffy heaven.

                                            >You lean forward, hands slowly coming up towards the top of her head as you smile and stare into those dark blue eyes.

                                            “I’d be happy to confirm that for you, Ink.”

                                            >Your hands eagerly get to work rubbing and caressing her soft ears, sometimes working their way down to scratch just behind them.

                                            >Ink Well coos.

                                            >”Mmmmmm. It really is true...”

                                            >You can’t hold yourself back anymore.

                                            >As gently as you can manage given your intense lust for that tuft, you sweep her up and onto her back, laying her out before you on your desk.

                                            >She gasps, then gives a gasp of a different sort as your hands return to her ears and your face plunges into what you were promised.

                                            >It’s everything you hoped it would be and then some.

                                            >As soft as down, warm even against your flushed face, and Ink Well’s racing heartbeat provides a soothing ambiance.

                                            >You slowly turn your head left and right, enjoying the feeling of her on your face.

                                            >You both lose track of time.

                                            >By the time you pull back from your new addiction, it’s been almost half an hour.

                                            >Ink Well looks up at you, tilting her head.

                                            >”Y-You don’t have to stop.”

                                            “And I don’t want to. But I need to take this report over to Windsor. I’ll be right back.”

                                            >You lightly touch your nose to hers.

                                            “Don’t move an inch.”

                                            >”Hurry baaa~aack.”

                                            >You set a new personal walking speed record on your way to the boss’ office.

                                            >Running in the halls is against the rules and you learned a long time ago that pony police take their jobs way too seriously.

                                            >You step through the door and place the paper down in front of your waiting boss with a flourish.

                                            “Here you go, Windsor. One Cool Facts Report.”

                                            >”Perfect! Great work, Anon.”

                                            >He picks it up, giving it a quick read.

                                            >”This is great! I didn’t know any of this stuff. And Ink Well helped, huh? Maybe we should get her to help more!”

                                            “I wholeheartedly agree. In fact, she’s already helping me with another project. I gotta get back to it. See ya later, boss.”

                                            >”Wow, you’re really something Anon! I look forward to reading it!”

                                            >So do you.

                                            >You powerwalk straight back to your office to find Ink Well sitting right where you left her.

                                            >The sultry stare and hooves spread wide speak for themselves.

                                            >You lock your door behind you.

                                            >Today was an office tryst sort of day.


                                            >Day Destress in Equestria

                                            >You are once again Anon, ace employee of Poneco. and mare body enthusiast.

                                            >Things have been absolutely bonkers at work recently. There are tiny little horses scurrying around everywhere you look, all desperate to catch up on work they'd been slacking off on.

                                            >You make your way back to your office to find a fresh stack of papers someone put on your desk.

                                            >You heave a sigh and sink into your seat, pulling them closer to begin working.

                                            >You haven't seen Ink Well since you two canoodled in your office.

                                            >You can't enough of that fluff.

                                            >You'd kept her in your office almost to sunset that day scratching her ears and rubbing her chest with your face.

                                            >You can still feel it when you focus on the memory. It was that good.

                                            >But ever since this crunch started, you haven't been able to find her at work.

                                            >You heave a sigh. Nothing to be done about it now.

                                            >You pull the first sheet off the stack and ready your quill pen.

                                            >They had you double-checking the accountants' math these days.

                                            >Ponies are generally bad at it, and you knowing your multiplication table by heart blew a few minds in the accounting department.

                                            >They practically begged Windsor to let you help them out.

                                            >You eye the crayon-scrawled addition and subtraction, correcting totals and pointing out mistakes.

                                            >It's in no way difficult. Just time consuming.

                                            >You make your way through the stack, visions of Ink Well dancing through your head.

                                            >The cutie with the snootie.

                                            >The chest that did not rest.

                                            >The eyes that mesmerized.

                                            >You've got it bad, Anon.

                                            >You pause to stretch out your hand, thinking.

                                            >You should at least drop by her office later. See how she's doing. Maybe she got buried in work.

                                            >Literally, knowing ponies.

                                            >Time advances, and you finally finish your work.

                                            >You drop it off at accounting and all the little horses cheer.

                                            >Feels good, man.

                                            >It takes you a bit to navigate the hallways amidst panicking ponies, but you finally get to Ink's door.

                                            >You knock.

                                            "Hey Ink, you there? It's Anon."

                                            >You hear a muffled noise from within.

                                            >After a second of hesitation, you open the door.

                                            >Turns out your guess was right on the mark.

                                            >Where her desk should be is a stack of papers so high and thick you couldn't see anything behind them.

                                            >You cross the room, slowly sifting through the stacks until you unearth her.

                                            "Better?"

                                            >"Oh, thank you so much! I bit off a little more than I could chew..."

                                            >You kneel down to receive a hug.

                                            "Just a little, huh? Want any help?"

                                            >"Oh, no, I couldn't! You always work so hard, Anon! I... I actually tried this because of you."

                                            >She turns away, blushing faintly.

                                            >"I've always admired how hard you can work. After... After the other day, I thought I should try and make things easier on you by doing more."

                                            >A faint burning sensation is felt in your heart.

                                            "That's really sweet of you, Ink. But I'd feel bad just leaving you to suffer through all this. Let me help."

                                            >You have to dig out enough space to sit down at her "desk," such as it is.

                                            >Looks more like one of those little plastic tables for kids.

                                            >With your help, things go much more smoothly, but Ink facedesks after a couple hours of work.

                                            >"Uuuuuuugggh. I just can't figure it out, Anon. How do you do it? I feel like my brain's going numb."

                                            >You chuckle, giving her ear an encouraging scratch.

                                            "It's just a human thing. Don't worry too much about it. You did a good job hanging in there."

                                            >You turn back to keep working while she rests.

                                            >She wasn't just saying that about trying to help you, it looks like a lot of this work came from accounting.

                                            >Maybe if they didn't spend so much on snacks they wouldn't have to keep adding up all these store receipts, but what do you know?

                                            >Ink Well turns her head to rest on its side, peering up at you.

                                            >"...I couldn't stop thinking about your hands."

                                            >You smile, reaching over to boop her nose.

                                            "I had a similar problem with your chest fluff."

                                            >She giggles, eyes crossing to watch your finger press against her nose.

                                            >There's a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Just the sound of you using one of her crayons to write, and the sound of her tail swishing.

                                            >"...Do you wanna take a break with me...?"

                                            >You tap the crayon against your chin in consideration.

                                            >Who the fuck are you kidding? You'd been hoping for this the moment you set foot in her office.

                                            "Does the princess like cake? C'mere."

                                            >She squeals happily as you lift her into your lap. One of your hands gets to work scratching behind her ears.

                                            >The other runs its fingers through her long, slightly curly mane.

                                            >It's rare to see a pony with black hair, but Ink's is so dark and lustrous you could almost swear it's just a really dark blue instead of black.

                                            >Like a living ink spill coming off her head, the locks are smooth to the touch.

                                            >She hums quietly, enjoying your attention.

                                            >"I'm starting to think your hands are magic."

                                            "Hahaha. Think so? Maybe I should open a massage parlor."

                                            >"That would be cool... Wait, but then you wouldn't work here anymore! Everypony would be sad."

                                            >Awwwww.

                                            >You give her a little scratch under the chin.

                                            >After thoroughly grooming her mane and scratching the daylights out of her ears, you can't contain yourself.

                                            >Your hands slide down her back, making her shiver before arriving at the little buttons in front.

                                            >The buttons that stand between you and the most comfortable thing you've ever felt.

                                            >Ink Well shivers again as you undo the top three and slide your hand in under the fabric of her clothes, raking your fingers through the coat on her barrel.

                                            >She raises her forelegs to help you pull her shirt off, making it easier to get at her.

                                            >Your arms ensnare her again, and you get all ten fingers massaging in gentle circles up and down the sides of her body.

                                            >She lays back against you, eyes closed and a happy smile on her lips.

                                            >You've worked your way up to her shoulders when somebody knocks on the door.

                                            >Ink squeaks in panic and your hands fumble with her shirt as a voice calls through the door.

                                            >"Ink Well, have you seen Anon? We can't find him anywhere!"

                                            >You guess they need more help. You pull Inks shirt back over her shoulders and gently slide her off your lap, leaving her to button up as you get the door.

                                            >Upon opening it, you see Long Divide, the head of accounting.

                                            >"Oh, you're here! That's great, Anon. We still have more for you to do. Can you come right now?"

                                            >You heave an internal sigh as you respond.

                                            "Sure, I'll be right there."

                                            >You look over your shoulder to see Ink Well looking as if nothing ever happened.

                                            >She gives you a warm smile, and mouths:

                                            >"After work, your office."

                                            >You smile back before heading out the door.

                                            >Today was a doting on your work crush kind of day.


                                            >Friday in Kinderquestria.

                                            >You’re Anon, office worker and designated guy ponies go to when they need something from the top shelf.

                                            >And you-

                                            >”Anon! It’s not here either! What do I do?! I can’t believe I lost the expenses folder!”

                                            >-are trying to help a friend get through a crisis.

                                            >You and Cross Correlate are turning his cubicle upside down looking for the documents he misplaced.

                                            >Windsor Knot wanted to look at the expense folder to approve the new pudding purchase, and you had to find it before the end of the day or Cross would get in trouble.

                                            “Easy there. We’ve still got plenty of time. Think back. Did you take it anywhere else?”

                                            >Your feathered friend hovers midair, hooves pressed to his temples.

                                            >”Um... I... I had it under my wing when I said hi to Lucky Stamp... I went to get a glass of water after that... m-maybe the break room?! Come on!”

                                            >He soars off down the hall and you sprint after him. You have to hurdle a couple of spooked ponies on the way, but it was nothing a shouted apology couldn’t fix.

                                            >You skid to a halt outside the break room as Cross throws the door wide open, startling everybody inside.

                                            >”Has anypony seen the expense folder in here?! I really need it!”

                                            >Amidst the chorus of “no” and “sorry,” you catch sight of Ink Well sitting with a couple of her friends.

                                            >She raises an eyebrow at the sight of Cross flying around the room in a frenzy and trots over.

                                            >”What’s going on, Anon?”

                                            “Cross might have lost the expense folder. I’m trying to help him find it.”

                                            >”Uh oh! I haven’t seen it anywhere in here. Can I help?”

                                            >You kneel down and give her a quick scratch on the ear.

                                            “Thanks, but we’ll be okay. We’re making a big enough commotion with the two of us, and...”

                                            >You lower your voice so only she can hear the second part.

                                            “I can’t pay attention to much else when you’re around.”

                                            >Ink blushes, leaning into your hand.

                                            >”W-Well, okay. Good luck!”

                                            >Your little moment is interrupted by Cross flying over to seize your shoulders.

                                            >”It’s not here either, Anon! I just don’t get it! I was so sure I gave Windsor the folder already, but he said he didn’t have it, and we’ve been everywhere I was when I had it! Oh, I’m in for it now...”

                                            >You stand up, putting your hands on his shoulders in return.

                                            “I’ll go talk to Windsor about it. While I’m doing that, you can check the file room. Maybe somebody found it and put it back.”

                                            “Oh! You’re right! I’ll go look right now!”

                                            >Off he goes, leaving a puff of bright green feathers behind.

                                            >Ink waves goodbye as you head off to the boss’ office.

                                            >You regret not being able to boop her nose in public because kinderlaws, but you might be able to “work on a project” in your office together if you get this done fast enough.

                                            >With that for motivation, you arrive at Windsor’s door in no time.

                                            >You knock gently.

                                            “Hey boss, got a second?”

                                            >”Come on in, Anon! I’m just going over the expense folder.”

                                            >...Wait.

                                            >You open the door to behold Windsor Knot poring over the same folder you and Cross just spent an hour looking for.

                                            “I see somebody brought you the folder, then! That’s good.”

                                            >”Oh, this? Cross Correlate brought it to me earlier.”

                                            >...for crying out loud.

                                            “Uh, Windsor, you told Cross that you didn’t have it.”

                                            >He looks up at you, big pony eyes bright and innocent.

                                            >”Oh, right! Sorry! I couldn’t find it after I set some other stuff on top of it, but he did bring it to me! I forgot to tell him I just misplaced it...”

                                            “I’ll go tell him. You just... do what needs doing.”

                                            >”Thanks Anon!”

                                            >You close the door behind you and pinch the bridge of your nose.

                                            >This place, sometimes...

                                            >You stride down the halls towards the file room. Hopefully Cross is still there.

                                            >You see a circle of ponies in the hallway a little ways off, and make your way over.

                                            >Cross is surrounded by concerned bystanders as he lies flopped on the ground, sniffling.

                                            >He lets out a choked sob as you approach.

                                            >”Anon...”

                                            “Cross, what’s wrong? Did you crash?”

                                            >”N-No, I couldn’t find the file! Windsor’s gonna fire me, I just know it...”

                                            >You kneel down and scoop your teary-eyed pal up.

                                            “You’re alright, big guy. No need for tears. Come on. Let’s get you a tissue.”

                                            >You bear the Cross back to your office and get him a tissue, then break the news to him.

                                            >He blinks owlishly for a moment.

                                            >”Wait. Hang on just a stinking minute. He always had it? That whole time? And he didn’t tell me?!”

                                            “Yep. He had it open when I got there.”

                                            >”Gosh dang it, that’s so stupid! And now I feel stupid for getting all worked up over it! Uggggh. Anon, I’m gonna need an ice cream after today.”

                                            >You snicker. You had discovered, much to your dismay, that alcoholic beverages were almost non-existent here. The only thing they had to soothe the minds of tired workers in this world was ice cream.

                                            >You were skeptical the first time your friends dragged you out to the Cold Cone Cubby, but turns out having bomb-ass ice cream with friends works wonders.

                                            >And watching ponies make a big deal of you finishing a triple scoop by yourself was funny.

                                            “Sounds good to me. We’ll get the guys together once work ends.”

                                            >”Yeah. Let’s have some fun! It’s Friday, after all!”

                                            >Your pal is cheered up and you now have evening plans. A rousing success.

                                            >A few hours later and Cross is pounding on your office door.

                                            >”Come on Anon, if we get there early we can all sit at the bar!”

                                            >You throw your jacket on and step out to meet up with Cross, then whistle loudly to get the attention of the ponies in cubicles.

                                            “Ice cream crawl, boys! Let’s celebrate the weekend! Who’s in?”

                                            >”Oooo, me! I’ll be right there!”

                                            >”Dang, I forgot my bit bag today...”

                                            >”Heck yeah I’m going!”

                                            >In a few moments, you’re surrounded by prancing ponies, and your group starts heading down to the elevators.

                                            >Suddenly, a flock of mares appear, led by a wild Ink Well!

                                            >She raises an eyebrow, flashing you a teasing smile.

                                            >”Is it guy’s night, or can we come too?”

                                            >You wink before turning to the guys from your section.

                                            “All in favor of showing the ladies a good time?”

                                            >With a loud cheer, the matter is settled.

                                            >Ink Well falls in step beside you, and all the behooved girls and boys follow behind, some on the ground and some in the air.

                                            >It takes a couple elevator trips for everyone to get down to the ground floor, but soon you’re all stepping out into the crisp Manehattan evening.

                                            >The Cold Cone Cubby is a short walk away from your office building, and just like Cross said, leaving a little early helped you beat the crowds.

                                            >Your group is huge though, so not everyone gets to sit at the bar. You group breaks into smaller bands of horses as they get sat at tables.

                                            >You manage to claim bar seats for yourself, Ink, and Cross, sitting down at the high, transparent countertop to look down at the ice cream flavors within.

                                            >A barpony starts taking everyone’s orders, eventually making her way to the three of you.

                                            >”What can I getcha?”

                                            >Cross orders first, his head and forelegs laid out on the cool surface of the bar.

                                            >”Gimme a rocky road. Make it a double. It’s been a heck of a day.”

                                            >Ink peruses the flavors for a moment before deciding.

                                            >”I’ll have... the strawberry, please.”

                                            >The barpony turns to you.

                                            >”And for you?”

                                            “I’ll take a double. One scoop cookies n’ cream, one scoop vanilla with caramel, please.”

                                            >The bar pony scoops out your cones and hurries off to check in on the others.

                                            >Cross takes a bite out of his, then sighs.

                                            >”I tell ya, Anon, my mane’s gonna go gray early working this job.”

                                            >You chuckle, giving him a pat on the back as you lick at your own sugary treat.

                                            “It’s just Windsor being Windsor, bud. And we made it through alright, didn’t we?”

                                            >”Yeah. Thanks for helping me, by the way. You’re a real friend.”

                                            “Pffft. That? That’s nothing, man. You were one of the first ponies to start talking to the creepy alien at work. Half the of the others thought I did some kinda mind control on the boss to get hired until you started speaking up for me. You’re the true friend, Cross.”

                                            >The reminiscing and banter continues, with and your two equine companions begin getting “drunk.”

                                            >Maybe it’s the salt in the ice cream. Maybe sugar is just a drug for them. Maybe they’re just pretending. Who knows? All you know is that you love watching ponies get tipsy off of ice cream, of all things.

                                            >Ink Well leans into your arm, nose angled up towards you.

                                            >”Anoooooon. Lemme... lemme try your ice cream. Gimme a lick.”

                                            >You hold your cone down where she can get at it, and she takes a big, long lick, one eye staring up at you.

                                            >She giggles as she finishes.

                                            >”Oooooo, that’s good! Might get that next time.”

                                            “Glad you like it. How’s your strawberry?”

                                            >”Yummy. Do you wanna try some?”

                                            “Sure.”

                                            >”Here...”

                                            >She holds up her cone, and you take a couple licks.

                                            >Damn, that is good. Really sweet.

                                            >Ink Well chortles, bringing her cone down to her level and licking exactly where you did.

                                            >She gives you that sultry little smile she usually saves for when you’re alone.

                                            >”Cooties~. I’ve got yours, you’ve got mine.”

                                            >You snicker, leaning back down to give her cone another lick.

                                            “There. Have some extra.”

                                            >She licks over the same spot slowly, staring at you while she does.

                                            >There’s an awkward cough, and you turn to see a rosy-cheeked barpony.

                                            >”Um... cute as you lovebirds are, that’s icky. Don’t do that. This is a public establishment.”

                                            >You sheepishly rub the back of your head and Ink turns pink.

                                            >You both keep your flirting to a minimum for the rest of your stay at the bar. But every time you made eye contact with Ink, the glimmer in her heavy-lidded stare made it clear that she wasn’t done with you yet.

                                            >The hours pass merrily, and by the time you all decide to go home and sleep you have to carry a few little horses.

                                            >Since ice cream didn’t affect you like it did them, you were always the one to make sure everybody got home alright.

                                            >Despite some insisting.

                                            >”Naaaaaaaaaaw, Anon, what’re you talkin’ about? ‘Course I can fly! Got my wings don’t I?”

                                            >Cross turns his head to make sure that his wings are, in fact, still there.

                                            >Your boy is good and plastered.

                                            “Give it up, Cross. Last time I let you fly home after ice cream, you crashed into somebody else and had to go to the hospital remember? You had that black eye for a week.”

                                            >”Wuz a fluke! Jus’ bad luck, tha’s all. I’ll do it safe this time!”

                                            “Not gonna be a this time, little brother. Just sit tight.”

                                            >Cross grumbles but continues clinging to your shoulder as you Make your way down the street, arms full of drunk & drowsy ponies.

                                            >Ink Well is among them. Having wedged herself between you and the others, she’s pressed against your chest. You do your best to ignore the burning gaze you feel trying to catch your eyes.

                                            >You’ll give her all the attention she wants and then some as soon as the two of you are alone.

                                            >One by one, your precious cargo get dropped off at their abodes, each waving goodnight with a yawn and a jangle of plastic keys as they let themselves in.

                                            >You arrive beneath Cross’s floating cloud apartment complex, and watch nervously as he makes an erratic climb.

                                            >Only after he calls down that’s he made it safely do you turn your eyes to your last little rider.

                                            >She pouting at you now.

                                            >”Anoooooon. How come you didn’t wanna look at me? I like looking at you...”

                                            >Fuck, your heart.

                                            >You shift your grip on her until she’s up at your eye level, your noses barely an inch apart.

                                            “Ink, I love looking at you. You’re the prettiest mare in the office. But when I have you close like you’ve been all night, I wanna do stuff like this-“

                                            >You press your nose against hers.

                                            “And this-“

                                            >One of your hands reaches for her felt-like ears, gently rubbing one.

                                            “-even if we’re in public. Which I know is illegal. Ever since that one time I had to do community service for jaywalking I studied up on Equestrian law. If I had my way, I’d be kissing you every time I saw you.”

                                            >She’s beet red, but can’t tear her eyes away from yours.

                                            >She responds in a breathy whisper.

                                            >”A-Anon... that’s so... romantic...”

                                            >You gently shift her in your arms, until she’s belly-up in a princess carry, and you start heading towards her apartment.

                                            “And I’d be able to hug you whenever I felt like it. And hold hands- uh, hooves in public. But all that stuff I want to do with you would get us in trouble. So I tried to avoid eye contact when we were so close, because all I wanted to do was touch noses and stare at you. Got it? I’m crazy about you, you silly little pony.”

                                            >Ink Well’s shaking slightly, hooves covering her face.

                                            >You can see pink on her muzzle, and that might be steam coming out of her ears.

                                            >She makes the odd squeak as she tries to get words out, but doesn’t quite manage it.

                                            >You don’t mind. It’s super cute.

                                            >You arrive outside her little brick-and-mortar apartment building.

                                            >She finally pulls her hooves away from her face. The bright pink of her blush hasn’t faded at all, blazing through the soft cardinal red of her coat.

                                            >”A-Anon.”

                                            “Mhm?”

                                            >A-All of those things are illegal in public.”

                                            “As I’ve established.”

                                            >”B-But there’s a private space right here. That I have keys to. And could invite you into. And lock the door behind us. And close the curtains.”

                                            “You sure could.”

                                            >”So w-what I’m saying is...”

                                            “Yeeeeees?”

                                            >She moans pleadingly, eyes staring into yours.

                                            >"Meanie. Don’t make me spell it out.”

                                            >You laugh softly, squeezing her tight.

                                            “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Yes, Ink. If you don’t mind I’d be happy to spend the night, even.

                                            >She gasps.

                                            >”Oh! Yes, please do! Tomorrow’s Saturday, we could... spend a weekend together...”

                                            “I’d love that.”

                                            >“Me too! Let me get the lock!”

                                            >You refuse to let go of her, so you just kneel down in front of the door as she pulls out her keys from her little coat pocket.

                                            >You enter into a stairwell, and make your way up.

                                            >On the second floor you find yourself in a hallway.

                                            >Ink points to your right.

                                            >”The last one on the end.”

                                            >You kneel once again, and Ink throws the door wide open.

                                            >You use your foot to shut it behind you and one hand to get the lock.

                                            >Ink’s nuzzling your neck.

                                            >”We can... we can start whenever...”

                                            >You nuzzle her face in return, placing little kisses on her cheeks as you circle around the room to get the curtains.

                                            >Ink returns each one to your neck and chin, giggling.

                                            >"Your chin is all scratchy. I like it."

                                            >The room is very dark when you close the curtains on the second window. Ink gasps.

                                            >"Oh! Oh wait! I have an idea! I'll make this perfect!"

                                            >You lower her down to the floor and she scampers into the darkness. You guess she knows her apartment's layout by heart.

                                            >"U-Um, sorry, can you get the lights?"

                                            >Spoke too soon.

                                            >You feel along the wall until you finally get to the light switch and flip it.

                                            >She zeroes in on a cupboard in the corner, but turns to you before she opens it.

                                            >"Sit on the couch and close your eyes! I'll be right there!"

                                            >You shake your head and chuckle, but oblige her, sinking down onto the comfortable piece of furniture.

                                            >You hear Ink giggle excitedly and move across the room towards you, setting something on the little table next to the couch.

                                            >And then... a striking match?

                                            >A faint, pleasant smell reaches your nose after a few moments, and you hear the light switch get flipped back off.

                                            >Some soft hoofsteps, and then you feel her climb back onto your lap. Her front hooves press against your chest, and you hear her whisper from directly in front of you.

                                            >"Open."

                                            >You open your eyes to behold hers, lit by a soft glow.

                                            >You glance to the side to see a large scented candle, with three wicks burning.

                                            >Ink fidgets.

                                            >"I'm sorry, I know it's a little silly, but I thought it would be romantic-"

                                            >Your hands trail up her neck to her ears, and you speak soothingly.

                                            "It is, Ink. I really like it. Don't worry. Just relax."

                                            >She lets out a breath, pressing her nose against yours.

                                            >"Okay... Okay. Then... can we...?"

                                            "First..."

                                            >You take her coat off of her, and then her blouse, tossing the both of them to the far end of the couch.

                                            >She's breathing heavily now, watching you look at her body.

                                            >Her magnificently fluffy chest is in full view.

                                            "I've never seen you without clothes on before."

                                            >"D-Don't say it like that. It sounds lewd."

                                            >You grin, bringing your face in close.

                                            >She gasps through her nose as your lips press against hers.

                                            >Her hooves reach up and hold your head on either side, gently rubbing your sideburns.

                                            >Your own hands take that as permission, and you rub up and down the sides of her barrel, fingers trailing through her coat.

                                            >The kiss breaks, reforms, breaks, reforms, and breaks again before she pulls away, taking a deep breath.

                                            >"I... Oh, wow... Anon, I've never... I've never felt like this before..."

                                            >Your hands fall around her back, into a light hug.

                                            "Is it a good feeling?"

                                            >"Yes! But it's so much more than that. It's like... It's like I'm flying, but I'm not scared to fall, and my tummy's all fluttery, and I can't think when we- when we-"

                                            >It's her turn to initiate as her eager mouth clamps back over yours.

                                            >Your mind, too, goes blank. The electricity running down your spine makes the kiss seem like it's over in an instant, but you're gasping for air at the end.

                                            >Ink Well continues speaking.

                                            >"I-I-I can't think of anything else when we kiss. It feels like... like time stretches. A-And when it's over, I just want to do it again."

                                            >You beam at her, bringing your fingers up to cup her snout.

                                            "Glad you feel it too."

                                            >It begins anew. Ink needs to take frequent breaks to catch her breath, but you spend a nice long time smooching on her couch.

                                            >At length, she breaks off again, keeping her nose against yours.

                                            >She pushes down on your arms, pulling them off her sides and bringing your hands within grabbing range.

                                            >You feel a soft suction as she presses her hooves against them.

                                            >"Y-You said you wanted to hold hooves, right?"

                                            "You bet I did."

                                            >Your fingers wrap around her little appendages, squeezing tightly.

                                            >She mewls.

                                            >"Anon... I've never felt like this about a boy before."

                                            "And I've never felt like this about a mare before."

                                            >"Do you really mean that...?"

                                            >"Mhm. Promise."

                                            >Ink Well shudders before nuzzling all over the side of your face, pausing to whisper in your ear.

                                            >"Prove it."

                                            >Your arms encircle her, turning her around so her back is to your chest.

                                            >One hand tilts her chin up for another kiss, but the other reaches down to comb her tuft with your fingers.

                                            >She moans into the kiss. When your lips are good and suctioned, your other hand joins its brother, ranging down her torso to rub at her soft belly.

                                            >One of Ink's forelegs stroke the side of your face while the other grasps the hand on her chest, warm air rolling over your chin as she exhales harshly through her nose.

                                            >You keep her locked in this position. Her fluffy chest is amazing as always, but her soft, defenseless tummy steals the show. You can't get enough of rubbing it. Not when she so obviously enjoys it.

                                            >You thoroughly explore her cute little torso, finding all the spots that make her squeak or moan or both.

                                            >The kiss remains chaste, but you don't mind. What she lacks in tongue usage, she makes up for in enthusiasm.

                                            >And just as she said, time seems to stretch. Kisses seem to end the moment they begin, even though you remember all the little noises she makes into each one, and the way her coat felt as you rubbed it, and the sensation of her firm little body beneath your hands.

                                            >But eventually your happy little snuggle buddy calls for a break.

                                            >"Anon, oh Celestia, I think- I think I'm crazy about you too. I can't imagine going back to not kissing you, after this."

                                            "That's really good, because I couldn't give this up either."

                                            >Ink smiles lovingly, squeezing your hands with her hooves.

                                            >"I'm so happy... But also so sleepy... Carry me to bed?"

                                            >You wordlessly rise, cradling your pretty little girl as you cross the candlelit room to the door she gestures to.

                                            >Her room is just as cute as you expected it to be. A lot of frilly things, and a stuffed animal, and-

                                            >And a drawing of you with a big, red heart around it set on her desk.

                                            >She giggles sheepishly.

                                            >”I... meant to put that away, but...”

                                            >You laugh softly, laying her down on her bed.

                                            “You are the cutest thing. I’ll be right back.”

                                            >You snuff the candle in her living room before returning, closing the door softly.

                                            >You take off your shoes and lie down next to Ink. Her bed’s on the smaller side, since it was made for ponies, but that just means You can get nice and snug with her.

                                            >You can’t seem to go a minute without touching her anymore. One hand returns to her torso, running up and down the entire length. The other gently tilts her head back.

                                            >She doesn’t resist, but she’s a little confused.

                                            >”Aren’t we going to- oh!”

                                            >She lets out a soft, short exclamation as you nibble at her long neck, giving her little love bites.

                                            >”Oh, oh, oh...”

                                            >Her breathing’s getting ragged again, and her forelegs wrap around your head.

                                            >She whispers in your ear.

                                            >”Let me try.”

                                            >You oblige, rolling onto your back and pulling her to your chest.

                                            >You let your head fall back into the pillow as she tentatively nuzzles at your neck.

                                            >She takes a dainty little bite. Flat pony teeth don’t have much thrill to them, but you like it just because it’s her.

                                            >You let her nip and nuzzle until she’s satisfied. She gets up on her hooves as she works her way up back to your mouth, her long dark mane cascading around you as the two of you get back to your new favorite activity.

                                            >Precious little light gets through the luscious strands, but it’s just enough to make out a goofy smile on her face as she pulls back from you.

                                            >”Hey.”

                                            “Hey?”

                                            >”I think you’re really handsome. And smart.”

                                            >You chuckle, feeling a faint heat on your cheeks.

                                            >It’s nice to hear even if you know you’re only smart compared to ponies.

                                            “What brought this on?”

                                            >”You said all those nice things to me earlier, but I haven’t said any to you. So now I wanna tell you all the reasons why-”

                                            >She points over to her desk, where the drawing rests.

                                            >”-I drew that.”

                                            >She kisses you again, but pulls back after a moment.

                                            >"Do you remember when we first met?"

                                            "My first day on the job, right?"

                                            >She giggles, pressing her nose to yours.

                                            >"Yep. You were so big and scary I was afraid to talk to you. But you finished your work so quickly that you walked around the office asking if there was anything else you could do. I was really nervous and handed you my entire stack of paperwork by mistake."

                                            >You snicker. The memory is slowly coming back to you.

                                            >"I thought for sure you'd be mad, making you do all of my share. But you just smiled and said 'I'll have it done in a little bit.' You looked really cool. And that was my easiest day at work ever!"

                                            >She kisses you again.

                                            >"And then... About a week after that, you started hanging out with Cross Correlate. He always seemed so happy when he was with you. And all the other guys in your group did, too. I realized anybody who could make that many ponies smile couldn't be scary."

                                            >Another kiss.

                                            >Each memory recounted gets you another one. You've been working for Windsor Knot for nearly a year now, so there were plenty to look back on.

                                            >Which meant plenty of kisses.

                                            >"A-And then... That day, in your office. I'd heard rumors from some of the other girls about your ear scratches, and I got a little jealous. I wanted you to do it to me too. And when you asked about my tuft, I knew you'd been thinking about me! I was so happy."

                                            >The kiss is longer this time. She barely separates from you when it's done, nose still flush to yours.

                                            >"I tried to put all that into that drawing. I didn't really understand until tonight, but... I think I fell for you a while ago, Anon."

                                            >You're currently trying not to tear up.

                                            >Crying during a make-out session rarely earns you any points, but fuck, she really remembered all that!

                                            >Even the little things, like helping her get stuff off of high shelves, or just chatting over ice cream, like tonight.

                                            >You cup her face in your hands. Your voice trembles a bit.

                                            “I... Ink, I don’t know what to say.”

                                            >She giggles softly.

                                            >”You already said something to me, silly. Earlier, walking home. My heart was pounding like crazy.”

                                            >She lays down, resting the side if her head on your chest.

                                            >”And from the sound of things, I got to return the favor. That’s all I wanted.”

                                            >She yawns, and you do too a few moments later.

                                            >Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s almost 1 AM. Not a big deal for you, but she’s probably exhausted. It’s time for bed.

                                            >You gently sit up and shift off the bed, tucking Ink in.

                                            >She watches as you strip down, giggling at the sight of your plaid boxers.

                                            >”You wear pants under your pants?”

                                            “Yep. It’s a human thing.”

                                            >You crawl back into bed, snuggling her tight as you bury your face in her mane.

                                            >It smells like lilacs, and feels like silk on your face.

                                            >Ink nestles down against you, nose pressed into your chest.

                                            >She whispers.

                                            >”Goodnight. I can’t wait to see you in the morning.”

                                            >You nuzzle her little head, squeezing her softly.

                                            “I’ll be right here waiting.”


                                            >Day Busted in Kinderquestria.

                                            >You’ve got yourself a stunner of a marefriend and are over the moon about it, so you must be Anonymous.

                                            >The weekend you spent with Ink was easily the best you’ve had since coming to Equestria.

                                            >Breakfast at her place, then a trip to yours, then a day on the town, seeing all the sights of Manehattan with your happy little pony.

                                            >And the cycle repeated itself the next day, with more hugs, kisses, and whispered words than you could count.

                                            >Even going back to work couldn’t keep your spirits down.

                                            >Certainly not after you saw her.

                                            >She was dolled up in a way you had never seen before. Just a faint touch of eye shadow. Coat and mane immaculate, almost glowing. A very, VERY low cut blouse.

                                            >Other mares’ jaws were on the ground, and you could see at least three stallions drooling as she passed them.

                                            >She walked straight to you, a letter in her mouth, half-lidded eyes pinning you in place.

                                            >You knelt down as if in a trance, taking the letter so she could speak.

                                            >”Good morning, Anon. Mr. Knot wanted me to pass that to you. I believe it’s about a new report. I also took the liberty of penciling in a lunch meeting on your schedule. I thought we might be able to collaborate again.”

                                            >The slight lilt she put on the word “collaborate” left you in absolutely no doubt of what you were going to be doing during lunch break.

                                            >And even if it had, the silent kiss she blew you before turning around a sashaying back toward her office would have dispelled it.

                                            >Your heart pounding like a hammer, you made your way back to your own desk, a stupid grin on your face and the sensation of weightlessness permeating your being.

                                            >You set about your work for the day with a fanatical drive, eager to make sure that there was wasn’t a single thing left to bother you come lunch time.

                                            >And now, a few sheafs of parchment later, you glance up at the clock and behold that the hour is upon you.

                                            >And sure enough, there’s that knock on your door.

                                            >She’s a punctual lady.

                                            >You loosen your tie as you stride to the door and open it wide, only to freeze in place.

                                            >”Hey, Anon! Ink Well mentioned the meeting she set up with you, and I figured I’d invite myself.”

                                            >Windsor Knot beams up at you. Ink stands behind him, looking like someone just told her there’ll be no cake on her birthday.

                                            >Her lips tremble slightly as she pouts, staring up at you sadly.

                                            >You just shake your head and put on your best placating smile, straightening your tie.

                                            “Sure, Windsor. Let’s, uh, get down to business shall we?”

                                            >With Windsor’s presence, the meeting is dry and professional.

                                            >In other words, the worst.

                                            >The three of you sit around your desk, with your boss opposite you and Ink on your left.

                                            >Windsor talks animatedly about what he’d like in his next report, and you do your best to keep it within reasonable demands.

                                            >You glance at your mare now and again. She still looks pretty put out with the situation, but she manages a weak smile when you make eye contact.

                                            >You still want to cheer her up somehow.

                                            >An idea comes to you.

                                            >You begin scratching notes, vague ideas for new reports.

                                            >But really small.

                                            “Ink, what do you think of these?”

                                            >”Hm? Oh, er, I can’t really make it out. What is it?”

                                            “Oh, my bad. Come a little closer.”

                                            >You casually tug her chair closer to yours, until the seats touch.

                                            >Her eyes widen as you sneak a hand around her hoof beneath the desk.

                                            “Can you see now?”

                                            >She bites her lip, trying her best to act natural.

                                            >”Yes... I can. They’re great ideas, Anon.”

                                            >”Lemme see!”

                                            >You pass the paper to Windsor, silently massaging the crimson hoof in your hand while he squints.

                                            >”Yeah, these are great! I like the idea about a report on possible new snacks in particular. How soon can you get this done?”

                                            “End of the week at the very latest, boss. Maybe even sooner, if you let Ink help.”

                                            >She grips your hand tightly.

                                            >”I agree with Anon, Mr. Knot. It would be best if I assisted him. Do you mind if I put my other projects on hold?”

                                            >”Not at all! I’m really looking forward to this.”

                                            >The meeting continues far longer than it has to, as all meetings do.

                                            >Ink takes your hand in both hooves, playing with your fingers beneath the desk.

                                            >She can’t hold her poker face very well, but luckily Windsor doesn’t notice.

                                            >When your boss finally departs, she hops into your lap, giggling and nuzzling at your chin.

                                            >”Gosh, I can’t believe you, Anon! He was sitting right there!”

                                            >You snicker as you rub your hands along her back.

                                            “Didn’t stop you, did it? You could have said no.”

                                            >She titters again, whispering in your ear.

                                            >”Have you ever said no to your favorite thing?”

                                            >One hand slowly works through her mane, rubbing behind her ears with the tips of your fingers.

                                            >You whisper back.

                                            “I don’t think I’ve ever said no to you, now that you mention it.”

                                            >That gets her good. Her cheeks flush.

                                            >”Ooooo~. Very smooth, mister.”

                                            “You look great today. I’ve never seen you with makeup on.”

                                            >”I’ve never felt like wearing it until recently. I’m happy you noticed!”

                                            “The whole floor noticed, Ink.”

                                            >Her soft snout presses against your nose. A cascade of dark mane flows around one side of her head, a red ear poking through like a rock out of a river.

                                            >Her eyes are dark blue. Now that you’re this close, you can see tiny flecks and streaks in the irises. Like they’re made of lapis lazuli.

                                            >...She really is pretty, isn’t she?

                                            >You’d always known, but somehow, it’s like you’re seeing all of her for the first time.

                                            >”...on? A-Anon?”

                                            “Hm?”

                                            >”Are you alright? You weren’t responding.”

                                            >You give her a light kiss.

                                            “I’m great. You’re just a big distraction.”

                                            >The levee breaks. Neither of you can resist.

                                            >She plants her mouth firmly over yours, and your hands start wandering.

                                            >Everything about her is soft. Her coat, her mane, her tail, even her hooves have elasticity to them.

                                            >You get lost.

                                            >So lost, in fact, that you don’t hear the door open, nor the gasp.

                                            >But you do hear:

                                            >”WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”

                                            >The both of you bolt upright, turning to face the accusing eyes in the doorway.

                                            >Fuck, Windsor came back!

                                            >”I can’t believe this! Both of you get out here!”

                                            >The both of you sit against the wall out in the hallway as Windsor starts lecturing you.

                                            >You keep your face empty, but you’re already trying to figure out your next move.

                                            >Windsor’s sure to call the cops. If you remember right, public lewdity is a felony.

                                            >Your mind races. You wonder if you can represent yourself in pony court. You bet you could do a better job arguing it than whatever lawyer they stick you with.

                                            >You just wish you could protect Ink. Maybe you could convince them that this was all your idea. That way it’ll be just you getting grilled on the stand, and if their lawyers are like the rest of them you’ll be arguing against a 10-year-old in a suit.

                                            >You like those odds.

                                            >”What do you have to say for yourself, Anonymous?!”

                                            >You come back down to Earth. Well, not Earth, but you know.

                                            “I say Ink Well didn’t do anything wrong.”

                                            >”What? What do you mean? I s-saw her in there with you!”

                                            “It was all me. I kept asking her to do those things until she caved. I’m the one at fault. You know she’d never do something like that normally, Windsor.”

                                            >”That’s not true!”

                                            >Goddammit, Ink!

                                            >You and Windsor turn to see a very indignant office girl with cheeks puffed.

                                            >”I did it because I wanted to!”

                                            >Windsor looks abashed.

                                            >”B-But it’s so lewd!”

                                            >Ink sits up ramrod straight, crossing her forelegs with chest puffed defiantly.

                                            >”It sure is. And I chose to participate in it. So don’t you dare send Anon to jail alone.”

                                            >Windsor looks between the two of you, groans, and finally replies.

                                            >”Fine then. I’m going to call the police. Both of you stay right there.”

                                            >You turn to your new partner in crime as he walks off.

                                            “Ink, why did you do that? I wanted to-“

                                            >You find a hoof over your mouth and two blue eyes staring into yours.

                                            >”I’m not the kind of girl who needs protecting, Anon. I don’t want you to go to jail for me! We committed the crime together, so we’re going together. That’s final! I’m not scared of p-prison!”

                                            >You snort. She might have convinced you if not for that stutter at the end there. Still, she’s trying her best to be brave.

                                            “Alright. But don’t count us out just yet. They still have to take us to court.”

                                            >”Well yeah, but... he walked right in on us. Even if we fight it in court, he’s a witness to us...”

                                            >Her cheeks light up.

                                            >”...Doing that stuff.”

                                            >You feel a weight in your heart. Does she...?

                                            “Do you regret it? What we did? What we started doing?”

                                            >She gasps, cupping your face in her hooves.

                                            >”No! Never! I meant every word I ever said to you. I just... I wanted you to be the only one to see me doing stuff like that. It’s embarrassing thinking my boss saw me holding hooves and... y’know... kissing...”

                                            >You’re reassured after hearing that.

                                            “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he’s our boss after today.”

                                            >A short while later, the popo roll up with your former employer as Windsor gestures to the both of you.

                                            >”These two, officers. I caught them canoodling in an office!”

                                            >There’s two officers standing behind him. A mare and a stallion. The mare glares at you.

                                            >”A pair of lewdsters, huh? Been a while since we’ve had a case this icky. Lemme see your forelegs, thingamajig. And you too, missy.”

                                            >Awfully haughty tone to take with a mare who looks like she’s barely younger than you are.

                                            >You stick your hands out, letting the little metal circles clamp shut over your wrists.

                                            >...Wait. Is that as tight as they go? You could still get your hands out if you really tried.

                                            >You look over at Ink and see that her cuffs are a much more snug fit, then it clicks. The cuffs were made for ponies. They’re a couple sizes too big and probably made out of tin or something.

                                            >You chuckle.

                                            >The lady pig takes issue.

                                            >”You think this is funny, you pervert? We’ll see who gets the last laugh down at the station! Take them down to the wagon, Gum. I’ll take a statement from Mr. Knot.”

                                            >You’re led through the office and down to the ground floor, your erstwhile coworkers staring all the way. Some look shocked. Some look sad.

                                            >You see Cross hovering over the others’ heads.

                                            >He tries to come talk to you, but the ponice officer cuts him off.

                                            >”Sir, please keep back. This is police business.”

                                            >”Just let me talk to them for a minute! They’re my friends! What are they accused of?!”

                                            >”I’m not at liberty to discuss that. Please move away from the suspect!”

                                            >Cross just gets more agitated.

                                            >”Anon, what’s happening? You’re coming back, right?!”

                                            “I... Don’t know about that. Just be cool, alright? I’ll swing by your place as soon as I can.”

                                            >The sadness on his face as you’re led away haunts you.

                                            >You and Ink are ushered into an actual wagon, drawn by other ponies.

                                            >You’re not sure what you were expecting, but you have to bite back another laugh.

                                            >Your escort sits across from you, Ink sits on your left.

                                            >She’s doing her best to look calm, but the fidgeting and nervous gulps give her away.

                                            “Hey. Officer Gum.”

                                            >”Yeah?”

                                            “Is it legal for a pony to sit on somebody else’s lap?”

                                            >”Uh... maybe? I dunno.”

                                            >Good enough.

                                            >As best you can with your bound hands, you lift Ink atop your legs. She sits so her side rests against your chest, with your arms loose around her.

                                            >She looks up at you, gives one of her heart-melting smiles, and leans into you.

                                            >There’s a pleasant silence.

                                            >For a moment, anyway. Then the doors fly open, and the big bad beat cop clambers into the compartment.

                                            >She eyes the two of you suspiciously.

                                            >”Hang on. I don’t think you two should be that close.”

                                            “Already asked Officer Gum and he said it was okay. Too late for backsies.”

                                            >She glowers at her coworker before huffing and taking a seat beside him.

                                            >She pulls a pencil and pad out from her little police vest.

                                            >”Alright, ya creeps, Mr. Windsor Knot says he say you two hugging, kissing, and holding hooves in your office. Is that true?”

                                            >You answer with no hesitation.

                                            “Yes.”

                                            >”Niiiice.”

                                            >Officer Gum grins, bobbing his head in support until he sees the mare glaring at him.

                                            >You get a look at her name tag.

                                            >Jelly Roll. The other guy’s Gum Shoe.

                                            >You and Ink spend the rest of the ride answering pointed questions from your little interrogator.

                                            >Today was a victimless crime kind of day.


                                            >It’s some hours later and you are Ink Well, former career mare and soon-to-be prison inmate. You fidget in your seat between Anon and your attorney behind the defendant’s table as the bespectacled judge calls the court to order.

                                            >The Manehattan Lower Court is really big. All kinds of ponies are seated in the galleries, waiting for the trial to unfold. Clerks and ushers gallop around everywhere, and the judge’s seat is so high up you’re a little afraid he’ll fall.

                                            >Gosh, if somepony had told you a year ago that you’d go to prison for lewdity charges you’d have called them a liar. But then, you wouldn’t have ever guessed you’d fall for an alien guy.

                                            >And what a guy he is...

                                            >You look up at Anon sitting next to you, cool as a cucumber. He doesn’t even look a little bit scared! You’d try to hold his hand again, but that would probably make things worse.

                                            >Anon notices you looking at him and cracks a smile.

                                            >”Don’t worry. The only place we’re going is home.”

                                            >You don’t know where he gets that confidence from, but you’ll try and believe!

                                            >Anon was always able to do stuff most ponies couldn’t do. Maybe he can really do it!

                                            >Windsor Knot’s attorney gives his argument. You can’t imagine anybody giving a rebuttal that matters.

                                            >”I ask the jury this: what would you do if you found a pair of your employees k-kissing somewhere in your office? It’s an open-and-shut case. These two need a bit of jail time to cool their heads, and hopefully learn how to behave in public spaces.”

                                            >You blush at the snickers and laughter. Why don’t they understand? The way you feel about Anon isn’t a joke! You’d follow him to prison if you had to! And it’s kind of looking like you will.

                                            >The judge turns to your table.

                                            >”It’s the defense’s turn to present. Not that there’s much to argue.”

                                            >Your court-appointed lawyer Habeas Writ stands up, but Anon stops him.

                                            >”Wait. I’d like to represent the both of us.”

                                            >”What? Are you sure?”

                                            >”Definitely. Is there any rule saying that I can’t?”

                                            >”Well, no, but-“

                                            >”Good.”

                                            >Anon turns and winks at you before standing up and striding before the judge.

                                            >”Afternoon, Your Honor. I’d like to take the floor on behalf of myself and Ink Well.”

                                            >”As you wish, Mr... Anonimouse. What do you have to say in your defense?”

                                            >”To start, I’d like to clarify something. We are accused of acting inappropriately in a public space, is that correct?”

                                            >”Yes. Mr. Windsor Knot claims that you were...”

                                            >The judge looks down at his case notes. He blushes really hard.

                                            >”W-Well, you already know.”

                                            >Anon begins pacing the breadth of the courtroom, gesturing lazily with one of his hands.

                                            >”I do. However, I would posit to the court that while lewdness may have occurred, it was not public indecency.”

                                            >A gasp ripples across the courtroom. The judge blinks several times before narrowing his eyes.

                                            >”Explain yourself!”

                                            >”With pleasure. Are you aware that Windsor Knot owns the entirety of the office space in which the offense was committed?”

                                            >”Well, yes.”

                                            >”And that a space that is owned by someone cannot be considered public?”

                                            >The judge’s mouth works soundlessly for a few moments, before he begins rubbing his chin in thought.

                                            >”I... Guess that’s true...”

                                            >Anon’s grin get’s even wider. You clap your hooves in excitement. It’s really happening! He’s convincing the judge!

                                            >You don’t know what he’s convincing him of, but it’s still cool!

                                            >”I would like to hear it from Your Honor’s mouth. What, exactly, is the wording of the law prohibiting lewd behavior?”

                                            >”Ponies are forbidden from exhibiting lewd behavior outside of private spaces. This includes hoof holding, kissing, belly rubbing, and any other touches that are deemed too naughty for the eyes of others under The Good Behavior Act, Section Two.”

                                            >Wow, did he really just recite that from memory? He didn’t look at any notes that you could see. Anon’s not impressed, though. His voice is calm and strong.

                                            >And super soothing to you.

                                            >”Therefore, according to the wording of the law, there is no punishment for a couple touching each other in a private space. Is that correct?”

                                            >The courtroom is dead silent.

                                            >The judge tilts his head from one side to the other.

                                            >”Well... when you put it like that, I suppose so.”

                                            >You look over at the plaintiff’s table and see both Windsor Knot and his attorney staring with mouths agape.

                                            >Anon continues, turning to speak to the jury ponies.

                                            >”Is the jury in agreement that the kissing, hoofhoolding, and cuddling took place in a private space?”

                                            >He gets some hesitant nods.

                                            >”And that according to the law, punishment should only be handed down in event of such activities occurring in a public space?”

                                            >Your eyes go wide. You finally see what he’s angling for!

                                            >The jury gets it too, you think. They’re sure chattering a lot.

                                            >Your amateur lawyer spreads his arms wide.

                                            >”I will not contest that Mr. Knot has the right to fire us at will. However, I put it to the jury that because the activities myself and Ms. Ink Well are accused of occurred in a private setting, there is no legal basis for us to be punished.”

                                            >”Wait! That can’t be right!”

                                            >Windsor’s lawyer scampers onto the floor.

                                            >”Your Honor, this is ridiculous! Even if he twists words around, it’s still a crime to be lewd outside of the privacy of one’s home!”

                                            >You snort. Sounds like somepony doesn’t know when to quit.

                                            >Anon crosses his arms, eyebrow raised.

                                            >”Says who?”

                                            >”Everyone knows that!”

                                            >”Really? Because I just had a judge read me the law and it didn’t sound like that. Or are you saying the judge is wrong?”

                                            >That gets a reaction! The judge peers down over his podium, adjusting his glasses irritably.

                                            >Interrupting Loserface backpedals.

                                            >”N-No! What I wanted to say was, even if another pony owns the space, that doesn’t mean it counts as private! If you rub somebody’s belly in a movie theater that’s still illegal even though it’s privately owned!”

                                            >...Hm. That makes sense.

                                            >Wait, no, you shouldn’t be agreeing with him!

                                            >Anon eyebrows go up. He takes a moment to respond, stroking his chin.

                                            >”Okay. Fair. But this building is not open to the public. Furthermore, we were seen only by one other pony. I would argue this situation is more like a friend walking in on you kissing your marefriend. Embarrassing for everybody? Yes. A felony? No.”

                                            >That’s your Anon! Take that, other guy!

                                            >”But it wasn’t YOUR space!”

                                            >”So our friend walked in on us in a space he owns. It’s basically the same as deciding to kiss your significant other while you’re hanging out at a friend’s house. Can you really call that public indecency? Er, public lewdity?”

                                            >The opposing lawyer plants his butt on the floor, holding his head and stammering as he tries to think of a response, but the squeak of a gavel interrupts.

                                            >”I’ve heard enough. I believe the jury has as well. Mr. Anaminoose, do you have any closing statements?”

                                            >Your tall drink of water puts his hands in his pockets and slowly looks around the entire courtroom.

                                            >”As I’m sure you can tell, I’m not from Equestria. I have different views about love and romance. But I’ll tell you this: if you haven’t found somebody that makes you want to be with them all the time...”

                                            >His eyes fall on you. Your heart races as he smiles.

                                            >”...then I pity you.”

                                            >Sighs and “awwww’s” sound out from everywhere. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

                                            >The judge clears his throat. You think you see hime wipe something from his eye.

                                            >”T-Thank you, sir. Now, ladies and gentlecolts of the jury, please give us your verdict.”

                                            >Please! Come on! Who could say you did anything wrong after a speech like that? Who could blame you for wanting to kiss a boy like that?!

                                            >The head juror stands in his seat after a quick, hushed discussion.

                                            >”Your Honor, we find the defendants not guilty!”

                                            >YES!

                                            >The courtroom erupts in cheers, and you gallop across the floor to leap at your hero.

                                            >Anon laughs as he catches you and starts walking out of the courtroom. You blow a raspberry at Windsor as you pass, but Anon stops to chat with the guy who was supposed to represent you.

                                            >”Thanks for letting me do that, Habeas. Hope it wasn’t a big deal.”

                                            >”Not at all! That was an incredible turnabout! I’m glad I got to see it.”

                                            >The unicorn lawyer offers a business card.

                                            >”If you don’t mind, let’s be friends! I think I could learn a lot from talking to you!”

                                            >Oooo, a new friend! Wait, do your coltfriend’s new friends automatically become your new friends? You were already friends with everybody at the firm, so you aren’t sure. Still, yay!

                                            >Anon gives the card a quick read before pocketing it.

                                            >”I wouldn’t mind at all! I’ll send you a letter.”

                                            >You both return Habeas’ wave as Anon carries you out of the courthouse.

                                            >The afternoon sun warms you both as he steps outside.

                                            “Anon, that was so amazing! I know you said we were going home, but I just couldn’t really believe it until I saw it!”

                                            >”Haha. Can’t blame you. I was a little nervous too, but I’m glad they liked my reasoning.”

                                            “You didn’t look nervous at all!”

                                            >You both chatter all the way back to your second home at Anon’s apartment.

                                            >What a day!


                                            >It’s been a few days since you successfully defended yourself in court, so you must be Anonymous.

                                            >You sit patiently in a Manehattan donut shop, making pastries disappear while waiting for Cross Correlate to show.

                                            >They’re some bomb fucking donuts, too. Any sweet you can think of, there’s a pony out there somewhere whose life’s work is to make it. And you can find plenty of them in Manehattan.

                                            >You love horse world, silly laws and all.

                                            >A bell tinkles, and you turn just in time for a green pegasus to latch onto your face.

                                            >”Anon! What happened?! Windsor said he took you to court!”

                                            >You gently pull your brother in wage slavery off of you, then explain.

                                            “Not much to it. He caught Ink and I doing some stuff we shouldn’t have been at work, and took us to court for it. I decided to represent us and won.”

                                            >”Really?! That’s crazy! You won against a real lawyer?!”

                                            >After ordering some donuts of his own, Cross sits down on the bar seat next to you.

                                            >You give him the short version of the case. Cross laughs excitedly at the conclusion, rear hooves tapping against the bar as he kicks.

                                            >”What are you gonna do now?”

                                            “Well, I impressed a public defender at my trial. I was going to get in touch with him and see if he wanted a legal assistant or something.”

                                            >”That would be neat! I bet he takes you on straight away. You’re too cool to not hire!”

                                            “Heh. Let’s just hope he doesn’t care that I don’t have a cutie mark.”

                                            >”There’s no way! Okay, I’ll admit I was kinda bothered by it when we first met, but you’re good at everything! I’ll tell him so myself if I have to!”

                                            “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

                                            >Cross devours a chocolate frosted donut with gusto.

                                            >”You’d better! So, uh, while we’re kind of on the subject... You and Ink Well?”

                                            >You grin.

                                            “Yep. Became official that night after ice cream.”

                                            >”Whoa... She’s so beautiful, Anon. A lot of guys can barely talk to her. How’d you do it?”

                                            >You remember all the little reasons she gave you and smile.

                                            >But that conversation was for you alone. And your initial suspicions of her just being after you for belly rubs aren’t fit to be uttered.

                                            “I dunno. I didn’t even know she saw me like that until she told me outright. I’m not good with signals.”

                                            >”You charmed the prettiest girl at the office and you don’t even know how?! Ugh. I was kinda hoping for some tips.”

                                            >After yakking it up for a little longer, you part ways.

                                            >It’s time to go see your new lawyer friend and ask some questions.


                                            >You’re going on lunch break at your new job, so you must be Ink Well.

                                            >Thanks to your cutie mark in writing, you were able to get rehired elsewhere.

                                            >Everypony’s nice, thankfully! No grouches or quill thieves so far.

                                            >You tidy up your desk before seizing the little paper bag holding your lunch with your mouth and trotting down the hall.

                                            >You stop when you realize you don’t actually know where you’re going.

                                            >Just when you’re about to start fretting, another mare rounds the corner ahead of you, coming down the hall. You set your lunch down and call out.

                                            “Excuse me! How do you get to the lunch room from here?”

                                            >”Just follow me, I’m headed there. Are you the new hire?”

                                            “That’s me! I’m Ink Well.”

                                            >She closes the distance, smiling.

                                            >”Pleased to meet you. I’m Fine Line.”

                                            >You fall in step beside her as she leads the way.

                                            >”How has your first day been?”

                                            “It’s been good! I was a little nervous, but it’s not much different from my old job.”

                                            >”Who did you work for before?”

                                            “Do you know Poneco?”

                                            >She stops, turning to stare at you with a gasp.

                                            >”Do I?! Doesn’t everypony?! They’re one of the biggest in Manehattan!”

                                            >Uh oh. Next she’s going to ask-

                                            >”Why would you come work for us instead of them?”

                                            “Ah...heh... well, I had a little argument with my boss.”

                                            >”Aw, that’s no good. I hope no feelings got hurt?”

                                            “I don’t think so.”

                                            >You both sit claim a table and sit down. Fine Line neatly deposits the lunchbox she had balanced on her back, and you set your paper bag down.

                                            >Your heart flutters a bit as you open it up.

                                            >You were so surprised when Anon made a lunch for you this morning!

                                            >And you only vaguely mentioned your favorite sandwich once, but he still remembered and made it for you!

                                            >You pull it out of the bag and take a big bite.

                                            “Mmm!”

                                            >”That looks good. Do you make your own lunches?”

                                            “Usually. But this one’s special.”

                                            >You hold your head up proudly.

                                            >”My special some- uh, somehuman? My special somehuman made it!”

                                            >Fine Line gasps.

                                            >”Wow! Wait, what? A... human?”

                                            “Mhm! He’s big and tall and can cook and is nice and is very, very smart.”

                                            >”How smart?”

                                            “He knows his multiplication tables! And trivia! And how to write reports for important ponies!”

                                            >”Whoa... that is pretty smart.”

                                            ”Told ya.”

                                            >You take a few more bites out of your sandwich. Fine Line opens hers, but doesn’t eat much. She keeps looking at you, then looking away when you catch her.

                                            “Is something wrong?”

                                            >”O-Oh, no, I just...”

                                            >She looks around to make sure there’s nobody nearby, then leans in and whispers.

                                            >”Are you two... serious? Special someones for realsies?”

                                            >You squeal silently. You were worried about finding a girl to talk about things like this with, but here she is!

                                            “Very serious.”

                                            >”H-How serious?”

                                            >Here is comes! You’ll finally be able to tell another pony how happy you’ve been!

                                            >You whisper back, right into her ear.

                                            “Smooching serious.”

                                            >She covers her mouth, eyes bright and shiny.

                                            >”What’s it like?”


                                            >You’re sitting in a too-small chair within a too-small office, so you’re probably Anonymous.

                                            >Habeas smiles apologetically as he takes his own seat behind the desk.

                                            >”I’m so pleased to see you again Mr. Anonymous! Sorry about the tight quarters. We don’t see many of your size in here.”

                                            “That’s alright. Good to see you too.”

                                            >Habeas’ office is packed with stuff. There are little rolls of parchment and notebooks everywhere, and one wall in particular is covered floor to ceiling in what look to be thank-you cards.

                                            >”I’d just like to say again that what I saw in court that day was nothing short of amazing. I’ll admit, I probably couldn’t have turned it around like you did. I was hoping you’d be willing to become a legal helper here!”

                                            >Hell yeah! Getting right to the chase. You like this guy already.

                                            “Yes, absolutely! But, uh, isn’t there some education involved? Am I going to have to intern for a while?”

                                            >He tilts his head.

                                            >”Intern? What does that mean?”

                                            “Uh... basically, it’s someone you hire for free on a trial basis. They don’t get paid, but they learn the job, and if they’re good, they get hired for real.”

                                            >”Why, that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard! Not paying someone for their work is... it’s downright evil!”

                                            >God, you wish your old boss on Earth could hear that.

                                            “So, how about education? Won’t I need training?”

                                            >”Nope! You just have to be good at arguing. Legal helpers get their lawyer certificate when enough lawyers vouch for them, and you’ve already got my stamp!”

                                            >Wow. Alright.

                                            >One last hurdle.

                                            “I don’t have a cutie mark. Is that okay?”

                                            >”Hm. I suspected that you might not. It’ll make things a little complicated later on, but it’ll be fine for now. Will you do it?”

                                            >Let’s be a horse lawyer.

                                            “When can I start?”

                                            >”Is now okay? I have a case I’d like you to look at!”


                                            >You’re currently explaining to a growing crowd of office girls what it’s like to kiss a boy, so you must be Ink Well again.

                                            “And sometimes he rubs my back while he does it. His hands are big and bend in ways hooves don’t, so it feels really good!”

                                            >A mare on your right fans herself, and another questions you eagerly.

                                            >”What does kissing taste like?”

                                            >Ooooo, a very lewd question.

                                            >The type you love answering!

                                            “Hmmm... with my guy, the first one tasted like ice cream, since we’d both had a cone.”

                                            >You get a soft chorus of “ooo.”

                                            “But then the flavor faded and it was just... I couldn’t taste anything. I couldn’t think. I just felt really floaty and light.”

                                            >Wistful sighs.

                                            “It’s not really a taste so much as a sensation. It’s soft, and good, and... And then, when he squeezes me tight afterward... mmm... I wouldn’t trade that for anything! It’s magic.”

                                            >”Really? Actual magic?”

                                            “No, but it feels like it!”

                                            >The PA system chimes out, drowning out the follow-up questions.

                                            >”Good afternoon, employees! Lunch time is over. Please return to work.”

                                            >Ack! You got so wrapped up in talking that you forgot to finish your sandwich! And there’s other things in there too!

                                            >You gobble half your sandwich down before stuffing it back in the bag.

                                            >Fine Line stays with you as the other mares quickly disperse.

                                            >“Is it really like that? The floating, the taste, the hugs?”

                                            “All that and more!”

                                            >”T-There’s more?!”

                                            “Mhm! But I gotta go. I’ll tell you about it later!”

                                            >Snatching your bag in your mouth, you wave goodbye as you gallop off back to your cubicle.

                                            >You’ll have to be sneaky. You’re pretty sure your orientation scroll said one of the rules was “no food or drink at your desk.”

                                            >You feel a little guilty about breaking the rules on your very first day, but there’s no way you’re letting the lunch Anon made go to waste and you aren’t going to risk putting it in the break room fridge.

                                            >You know all too well the sort of food banditry ponies will do when no one’s looking.

                                            >Never again!