To Love a Dweeb (Gilda)


                                            To Love a Dweeb


                                            Audio here ---------> https://u.smutty.horse/memhrknxqiu.mp3


                                            >It's sometime in the evening, you're laying on your couch half asleep, and you hear a knock at the front door.

                                            >A few seconds of silence follows.

                                            >"Yo dweeb, you in there?"

                                            >Gilda.

                                            >You cover your face with a pillow.

                                            >You just wanna keep sleeping.

                                            >Maybe if you keep quiet, she'll think you're out somewhere.

                                            >"I can hear you moving in there, you know!"

                                            >Oh yeah, griffons can hear pretty well.

                                            >"Are you jerking off in there or something?"

                                            >Come back in a few hours and find out.

                                            >"I'm busting down the door in three seconds, and I don't care what I'm gonna see. Got it?"

                                            >Suuuuure.

                                            >Probably should stop her before she breaks your door.

                                            >Again.

                                            >This week.

                                            >"One...! Two...!"

                                            >Before she can finish, you're already up and at the door.

                                            >You open it up to see Gilda in a charging stance, but she stops and looks at you.

                                            >"Finally! I thought I was gonna have to break another door!"

                                            >You mention this to her.

                                            >"Well, it isn't MY fault you don't answer the door fast enough. For all I know, you probably croaked in your sleep. Maybe someone broke into your home, and I'm the only one who can save you."

                                            >Her eyes fall on you.

                                            >"Or maybe you need a mouth to fuck whenever you've got nothing better to do."

                                            >You recoil at the sudden implication, to which she laughs.

                                            >"Ha! I'm joshing you, dude. This maw's off limits. But don't worry, I'm sure a cute mare will come by our table and pity you a bit."

                                            >You ask what she's talking about.

                                            >"Duh. It's Friday? We were supposed to go drinking tonight? Don't tell me you already forgot. I know you've got a raisin brain, but—"

                                            >You interrupt and tell her you get it, then ask if that's why she's here.

                                            >"Well duh, why else would I be here?"

                                            >You joke to get her maw fucked, because it looks pretty inviting right about now.

                                            >She squawks.

                                            >"Th-... That was a j-... dude, fuck off. So are we going or what?"

                                            >With a chuckle, you grab your keys and satchel and head out.

                                            >"Finally. Oh. And because of that shit, you're buying."

                                            >You close the door behind you and head off to the tavern.


                                            ----------


                                            >Two hours later, you and Gilda are still sitting at a table at the tavern.

                                            >Several have come and gone, but you both remain.

                                            >By now, you're both somewhat drunk, but coherent enough to have a good conversation.

                                            >Drinks clink around you and ponies chatter.

                                            >It's all a strange yet welcoming feeling.

                                            >Music is playing in the background; you love this song.

                                            >"And I shit you not," Gilda says as she tells you a story, "that fish was actually trying to walk. Didn't even have legs, and he was trying to fucking charge at me. I'll be honest, sometimes I get pretty pissed. But that was the angriest fucking thing I've ever seen."

                                            >You two both share a laugh and drink a bit more.

                                            >"Anyway, even after I told Dash all about it, she still didn't believe me. Sure, she saw the fish, duh. But she was convinced I was fucking with her. Even today, she still thinks I made it up. But when a fish is mad, trust me. You'll know."

                                            >She huffed.


                                            >"But that was a few years ago. Right before the whole... falling out crap between me and Dash. It's a funny memory and all... but then it's just all bitter for a bit."

                                            >You ask if she still thinks that.

                                            >"Hmm? Oh. We made up a couple years ago. Even hung out with her other friends. They're pretty dorky, but... they're alright."

                                            >She takes a sip.

                                            >"Now that I think about it, that's around the time I met you."

                                            >You joke about that day, and she takes it in stride.

                                            >"Heh. Yeah. I thought you were gonna bore me to death. But... you turned out alright... for a dweeb."

                                            >She takes another sip of her drink, but you notice she's staring off into the distance, something clearly on her mind.

                                            >You ask if she's alright?

                                            >"Huh? Oh. Yeah, I'm cool. Just this song, you know? Always gets at least one sappy tear out of me."

                                            >She scrunches her lips (if Griffons can even do that), before turning to you again.

                                            >"Alright, fuck it. Rant time."

                                            >You say nothing and listen.

                                            >"So before Dash came into my life, I had no friends. I tried to make friends, and all I got were douchebags in return. I don't know if it was me, or if they were just born that way, but I had nopony and nobody."

                                            >You keep listening as she takes an occasional swig, a nervous look growing on her face, but you say nothing.

                                            >"And every guy I ever met, tried to meet... hell, tried to fuck... they always got scared of me. Maybe they never met a griffon before, but even the griffons wanted nothing to do with me. So I thought, well if everyone's afraid of you, why not give them something to be scared of? Just stupid shit, right? At least, it sounds stupid. But it kind of helped, in a somewhat lame way. But I was still lonely. Then Dash came along, and it was the first time I ever had something like that. I wasn't gonna lose that; so obviously, I acted like a bitch and lost it anyway. Went back to being a bitch to everyone. Lo and behold, like two years later, Dash comes around again, and we're buddies again."

                                            >Another swig.

                                            >"But the others are a different story. Every time they thought I wasn't looking, I could see them. Watching me, like they were just waiting for me to go back to same old Gilda. Can't blame them, really. But the point I'm trying to make is that... every single person in my life has given me that look at least once. And it never completely goes away."

                                            >She leans forward.

                                            >"But you? I've seen that look in your eyes not one. Fucking. Time. And I've known you for what? Two years now? Two years, and you never ran away, never cowered, never kept one eye open... none of that shit. You've always taken the time out of YOUR day to give ME the time of day."

                                            >You tilt your head, somewhat confused, and Gilda is quick to notice that.

                                            >"What I'm saying is... why? Why are you so nice to me?"

                                            >After a moment, you tell her because she's good company.

                                            >"Good company? You're serious?"

                                            >You nod.


                                            >"Hmm. I find that hard to believe. I want the real reason, and I don't want some sappy answer like 'the power of friendship kept me here.'"

                                            >You give a little chuckle, but frown.

                                            >Hesitantly, you tell her that you were in a pretty dark place when you first met her.

                                            >"Define dark place."

                                            >Depression, isolation, hanging out with the others didn't do much for you.

                                            >"You definitely had it bad if Pinkie Pie couldn't even get you to smile."

                                            >You agree.

                                            >"So why me?"

                                            >You tell her she was unique.

                                            >"Unique, huh? I guess that's kind of true, being a griffon around here."

                                            >You then say you like her smile.

                                            >She looks at you.

                                            >"You... like my smile?"

                                            >You nod, asking if that's weird.

                                            >"No, that's not that weird. Just... no one ever likes my smile. They're always too scared of it, sharp teeth and all that."

                                            >You admit it's beautiful.

                                            >"Pfft... c'mon dude, now you're just getting sappy."

                                            >You apologize nervously.

                                            >"Hey... I never said it was a bad thing."

                                            >You smile sheepishly.

                                            >"And... I... like your smile too."

                                            >You smile, but it gets quiet between you two.

                                            >More silence, with Gilda eyeing around the tavern.

                                            >She's breathing slightly heavier, though you think it's from the drink.

                                            >After a moment, she reaches over and rests one of her hands over your hoof.

                                            >"Hey... you wanna get out of—"

                                            >Suddenly, several stallions appear by the table, one of them looking fairly beefy.

                                            >"Well, well, well," he said. "Look what dragged in the cat."

                                            >Gilda is quickly annoyed and turns to them.

                                            >"Do you mind? We're kinda busy here."

                                            >"Hey now, what's with the attitude? I'm just saying hello. Saw you from across the room, and I gotta say... I like what I'm seeing."

                                            >"Well, I don't."

                                            >"Oh, they all say that at first."

                                            >The stallion turns to you.

                                            >"Why don't you beat it, pipsqueak? Let a real stallion take the reigns."

                                            >"You stay right there, dweeb," Gilda commands you, not taking her eye off the stallion.

                                            >You stay where you are, but are ready for anything.

                                            >"C'mon, doll. Ditch this nopony, and let somepony show you a good time."

                                            >"I already am. Now leave me alone."

                                            >"I bet this kid can't even get it up. You're really gonna skimp out for him?"

                                            >You get up, but before you can do anything, the stallion shoves you back into your seat.

                                            >"You stay right—"

                                            >"DON'T TOUCH HIM AGAIN," Gilda says aggressively, earning the attention from a few nearby ponies.

                                            >The stallion chuckles.

                                            >"Easy now. Just keeping the kid in his place."

                                            >"He. Is not. A kid."

                                            >It's clear that Gilda is getting pretty pissed off, but the stallion is pushing her buttons.

                                            >You really aren't sure if he's even aware of it.

                                            >"Well, he sure don't look like a stallion."

                                            >Gilda growls.

                                            >"Now -that- is what I like. You may be all bird on the outside... but give me a shot tonight, and I will make you squeal like a cat."

                                            >Okay, that's enough.

                                            >You get up again, ready to pull the guy away.


                                            >He turns around and immediately clocks you in your eye.

                                            >You go down to the floor, to gasps from the nearby ponies, as well as laughter from the stallion's goons.

                                            >"Boy, you really don't know when to... huh?"

                                            >"Don't. Touch. MY. FUCKING. DWEEB!"

                                            >With newfound fury, Gilda strikes the stallion in the nose, sending him crashing into your table and shattering it.

                                            >The crowd within the tavern gasp and stare in shock.

                                            >Immediately, chatter arises as a fight begins between Gilda and the other stallions.

                                            >You quickly get up to help her.

                                            >One of them tries to hit her from behind, but you grab him and turn him around, just to punch him in the cheek and throw him a short distance away.

                                            >He crashes into a nearby table and shatters all of the glasses on it.

                                            >You hear the sound of approaching hooves, followed by a loud punching noise.

                                            >One of the stallions who tried to attack you is knocked out cold by Gilda's stone-hard punch.

                                            >"I got your back!" she shouts with a grin.

                                            >You grin back, and the two of you start fighting off the goons.

                                            >"Now you've done it!" the main stallion shouts as he gets up from the ground.

                                            >You hear chants of "fight! fight! fight!" among the crowd.

                                            >He tries striking Gilda several times, but she's quick to dodge them, even making him hit one of his own friends.

                                            >She kicks him hard with both paws and sends him flying.

                                            >Some of the stallions who tried attacking you end up indirectly hitting other patrons, resulting in a good portion of the tavern erupting into a full-on brawl.

                                            >But you don't notice much.

                                            >You're having too much fun kicking some ass of your own.

                                            >The leader gets up once again, but he's clearly woozy and out of it.

                                            >That doesn't stop you and Gilda from grabbing him.

                                            >"Ready?"

                                            >You nod.

                                            >"One! Two! Three!"

                                            >You both charge forward and throw the stallion through the window.

                                            >He shouts as he goes through it, landing on the dirt ground outside the tavern.

                                            >He lets out a pained groan.

                                            >"Not bad for a bird, huh?"