GREEN
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21305 114.17 KB 1533
21305 114.17 KB 1533
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>(You) are Rainbow Dash, the one and only.
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>You had a successful career as a Wonderbolt, broke many records, filled many stadiums to the brim, left many a pony in awe at your dare devilish stunts. You even saved some lives on the rare occasions the Wonderbotls were summoned to do military work.
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>But now, close to your 30s it’s time to leave the super hero life behind and get a little bit more grounded, after all your wings don’t flap with the same strength they used to anymore.
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>It’s no problem, you have no regrets. You still are a Wonderbolt but now you train the aspiring younglings. Pay is actually better than when you were on duty and you are very respected as a drillmare.
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>Actually… You do have one regret.
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>You never had a coltfriend, nor a kiss or even a date. You been alone your whole life
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>The reason being, as much as you hate to admit it, you are terrified of speaking to stallions.
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>Romantically that is.
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>You can deal with stallions big and small, important rich and noble ones or otherwise. Nopony can make you shy away.
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>Except when the subject gets flirty, then you panic. A primal fear.
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>This regret of yours is getting worse by the day. It started becoming prominent when all of your friends were getting married and it worsened as your friends started their own families.
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>Applejack had two foals, Pinkie had a whopping four. Rarity and Fluttershy both had one and even Twilight had one in the oven.
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>You weren't jealous, jealous not the word for what you feel. It was more a feeling of being left behind, of defeat.
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>Never stopped you from visiting and playing with them, being Auntie Dash was awesome, and you had so many nieces and nephews it almost felt like a family of your own.
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>But you don't want to be a single auntie, you want to be a wife and a mother.
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>This longing for a relationship is making you cry at night sometimes.
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>Makes you touch your own lips and imagine what it would feel like to kiss somepony, makes you hurdle into a ball and imagine what it would feel like to hug somepony.
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>Today is one of those nights, the crying ones, and it is hitting harder than usual.
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>Your usually quiet crying was a full on bawling today, and it's been going for so long that you are dizzy, shaking and sweating.
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>Bad thoughts are going through your head. You think you will never muster the courage to ask a stallion out, or that you will end up with a freak, useless one. You fear you are destined to a life of loneliness never to give your love to another pony.
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>All of a sudden something clicks. The feeling of loneliness changes into deep despair and panic soon settles in.
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>You jump out of the bed in a jolt, you can’t stand this anymore, you can’t stand being alone.
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>You dash outside your house, your mane is a mess, your violet eyes red and puffy from all the crying.
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>After flying down the street for a while you stop just as abruptly as you left the house. That crushing sudden panic is gone, and you are getting back to your senses.
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“What am I doing?...”
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>You think for a second. Where are you going?
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“Applejack…”
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>You were running to meet Applejack, your best friend. Possibly hoping she could comfort you like she did so many times before.
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>Of course, you are in Manehattan, it would take you three days of non-stop flying to get there.
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“What is happening to me?... I am going insane?...”
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>You head back home confused, you feel like trash.
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>Going straight back to your room, you just flop on the bed.
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“I’m pathetic”
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>The exhaustion from crying all night and staying up so late quickly catches onto you, and you fall asleep.
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>You wake up way later than you are used to, it's almost noon. You don't have that beaming energy one’s supposed to have on a Saturday, last night still wearing down on you.
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>Decide to go for breakfast, probably going to skip lunch. A huge bowl of oatmeal, nuts and berries. You think how Pinkie would probably scream in protest and demand you had those sugary cereals instead and you would have to explain to her that those cereals are no good for your physique.
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>You miss Ponyville. But that is temporary, you are absolutely going to go back. Is just that the Manehatten boot camp needed a captain and you were the best one available at the time. It was agreed from the start you would return to Ponyville.
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>But it's been three years already, and there are two more to go before you could live near your friends again... Great… Haven't even showered yet and the loneliness is already trying to settle in.
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“What a nightmare”
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>You finish breakfast and shower. All the while a resolve is building inside your heart, the freakout from last night driving you to action.
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“I don't ever want to feel like that again”
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>You put on your “go out” outfit, that is a cap and a scarf Rarity gave you before you left for Manehatten. They are simple and modest just like you asked for, but wearing the set makes you feel pretty and feminine.
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“I’m out to find a coltfriend”
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>You are heading downtown, to a place called Timber.
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>It’s a dating agency where ponies can sign up and have their profiles exposed to other ponies who are also looking for a date.
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>There is no way you could possibly cold approach a stallion so this will have to do.
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>Doesn't take long to get there, you are Rainbow Dash after all.
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>The place is fairly big, there is a picture of a timberwolf in the facade of the building.
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>You barge in like you own the place, of course.
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“Hey is this the place where ponies go to find coltfriends?”
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>A few patrons, mostly stallions, are staring at you. But you are not here for them, you are here for the profiles.
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>”It sure is Miss. Why don’t you follow me so we can get started on your application?”
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“Yeah awesome, no bullshit I like that.”
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>You follow the attendee to one of many private cabins where he hoofs you a quill, some ink and a form. The parchment reads: “Timber Profile”
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>”When you fill these forms remember to be honest about your answers, try to talk about yourself not about what you are looking for and…”
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>He goes on what is probably a set of by the book guidelines, you are not paying much attention.
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>”and if you feel like the other pony is being rude you can always contact us to have the offender blocked”
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“Yeah dude, whatever. When do I get to see the stallions?”
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>”As soon as you finish your own application, in fact”
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“Cool I’ll be done in a minute, just leave me to it ok?”
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>”Absolutely Miss. I’ll be back to snap your picture when you are done”
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>He leaves the cabin and you are left alone with the form. The first thing it asks for is your name and age, easy enough of course.
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“Rainbow Dash, 30”
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>Are you an Earth Pony, a Pegasus or a Unicorn?
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“Pegasus”
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>Next it asks for your gender: mare or stallion.
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“Mare”
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>Them what gender you are looking for: mare, stallion or any.
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“Any? What the hell. Stallion”
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>The next questions are pretty mundane, do you smoke?
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“No”
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>Do you drink?
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“Casually”
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>Have any children?
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“No”
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>Want children in the future?
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“Yes”
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>What are you looking for: Making friends, casual relationships, serious relationships.
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“Making Friends? Bullshit. Serious relationship”
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>Next part of the form is about your appearances, weight and height, body type and the like. You are pretty confident you have the best, or at least the most fit body this agency has ever seen.
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>Filling the forms is easy, until it gets to “Something about yourself” and a blank space for you to write.
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“Dude… Hell if I know… Pinkie could probably fill this for me better than I could”
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>You think for a while, and just start dropping some keywords.
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“Into sports, competitive, like to work out. A little brash and mischievous.”
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>You struggle to write the next part
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“Very loving, likes to cuddle”
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>For a moment you become self aware, but the feeling doesn't last.
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“Okay, I’m done. Ready for that picture”
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>The attendee walks in with a clumsy apparatus you recognize as a camera. Before setting it up he makes you an offer:
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>”Would you like to have a makeover with our professional before the picture? For just a small fee of course”
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“What?”
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>You understood him perfectly, you just said what out of surprise. After he repeats himself it's your turn to answer
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“Yeah sure I guess, looking pretty in a photo is important right? My friend Rarity taught me that much.”
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>”Perfect. Right this way Miss.”
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>You follow him to a corner in the building, he stops in front of a door adorned with a golden star and knocks twice
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>”Come in!” You hear from inside the room. And he promptly opens the door.
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>It's just like a saloon, except it's meant for only one pony at a time and is probably a little less equipped.
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>A young, cute mare is handling the tools of her trade at the balcony near a wide mirror, she motions for you to sit down on the chair in the middle of the room.
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>”Wow, you are beautiful already! What can I possibly do to a mare as beautiful as you?”
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“Ha, I know right? I’m awesome. Just do your stuff I’m sure you can't make it look worse”
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>The mare starts working right away, you recognize a lot of what she is using just not by name. You usually only put on makeup when you are with Rarity or Fluttershy and you don't have any of your own at home.
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>She is done in no time, and you look at yourself in the mirror
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>The makeup, your cap and scarf. It's all too perfect
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>”So? What do you think?”
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>You look pretty, and you feel pretty.
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“That’s great actually. Thanks”
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>You leave the young mare a nice tip, she is very happy about it.
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>Before you could leave the attendee returns to you, motioning for you to follow. He leads you back to the cabin where you filled out your form, the camera is all set up, there is a white blanket hanging on the wall and a few jars of flowers as decoration.
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>You position yourself in the middle and strike a pose, the attendee snaps a picture.
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“Alright, are we done?”
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>”We are Miss...” He glances at your form “Miss Rainbow Dash”. Would you like to look at your patrons now?”
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“Yeah, that's why I’m here right?”
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>”Most certainly. Would you like for us to sort them by age? Body type perhaps?”
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“No, just show me everypony who is nearby, I’ll pick them myself”
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>”Right away” He says as he leaves to fetch the profiles.
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>He returns before you get too bored. He is carrying quite an impressive pile of parchment, which he rests on the same table you filled out your form.
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>”This are all the active patrons who live nearby, as you requested. And this” he pulls out some blank sheets of scroll and ink. “Is for you”
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“What are those for?”
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>”That's for you to write your letters to the stallions you choose, you see after you choose one of the patrons you must write a letter introducing yourself to him, if he likes you he will write you back and, well at that point our job is done”
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“Wait, I’m the one who has to write first?”
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>”Well no, you can always just wait for one of the patrons to find your profile and write you, but that's usually a discouraged strategy”
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“I see... Well I think I’m going to look at the boys first”
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>”Certainly, we suggest you have a pile of the ones you like on right, and a pile of the ones you didn't like so much on your left”
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>Weird, but ok.
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>The attendee finally leaves you be, and you start looking at the profiles. Your heart is pounding.
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>There are a fair number of stallions that catch your attention, but your left pile is quickly getting bigger than your right pile.
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“Smokes, that's a deal breaker.”
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>You continue to flip the profiles
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“Already has kids, no way I’m getting into that...”
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>You been at it for about half an hour, the left pile is bigger than what remained on the original pile
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>Almost finished with this silly game, you come across a profile that immediately catches your attention because of how worn out it is. It's clear this one has been here for a while.
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“Floor Bored, 27, Earth Pony”
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>He was ugly.
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>You read his profile anyway.
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“Doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, no children, good, all good... Doesn't want children...”
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>After seeing he doest want children you glance at the “What I’m looking for '' section.
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>He marked all three options, making friends, casual relationship and serious relationship. You scoff.
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“Sounds desperate”
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>You continue to his body profile, way taller than you but too much weight for this height. His body type reads:
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“Chubby. Hm. So its not muscle weight”
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>Next you read his “about me” section and it catches your attention once more
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“I love Daring Doo”
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>That phrase is written in big, fancy letters making you read it first, out of order.
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“My name is Floor Bored, I’m 20. <You glance at the 27 above, now noticing some eraser marks. So this is at least 7 years old> I am a geek who loves to read and to play board and card games and I love Daring Doo. I would like a mare to cuddle and share my feelings with. That's all I really care about so don't be shy and send me a letter!”
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>There are drawings of hearts filling the rest to the “about me” box.
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>You think for a while, and put him on the right pile.
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“Least we have one thing in common... And... We are both desperate it seems”
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>Not long after, you finally finish the pile of profiles. The left one is towering and proud while the right one is barely a stack.
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>The time has come. You must now write your greeting letters to the few stallions that made the cut.
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>You grab a blank scroll and the ink, anxiety already found its way into your heart. Hesitantly you also grab the profile on top of the right pile and read it again, trying to come up with something to write to him.
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>You can feel yourself blushing, your breath becoming unsteady.
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>You are feeling the same terror you feel when a stallion flirts with you.
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“It’s just a letter Dash, Goddammit pull yourself together”
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>Tears of frustration are already building up.
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>Forcing yourself you grab the ink and start writing, your heart filled with sudden determination
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“Hi, I really like your profile. I’m also into sports. I bet we could have a lot of fun playing together, doubt you could beat me tho.”
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>That took way too much effort. And you feel like you just tore your heart open for all to see. You are feeling exposed and vulnerable. But all you really did was tell a potential coltfriend you like sports.
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>What else should you write?
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>You grab the profile again, but this time you notice something you didn't before.
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“Looking for 18 to 25”
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>That is certainly not your age group.
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>Emotion takes you over, you can't think straight anymore.
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“I just got rejected by a piece of paper”
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>You lay your head down on the table, with your hooves for a pillow.
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>And you just sob quietly for a while.
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>This irrational fear of yours. It's crippling.
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“Maybe I need a head doctor...”
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>You say, defeated. There is no way you can write any letter after that sucker punch.
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>You are about to leave when you remember Floor Bored, the desperate guy.
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“If I can't write to him, I’ll one hundred percent find a doctor”
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>You sit back down, scroll and ink at hoof. Anxiety is just as bad as before.
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>Trying to think of something to write you grab his profile, and give it a complete read.
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“Wait what the fuck”
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>On gender it was marked as a mare.
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“Mare, looking for mare, stallion and any?”
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>You do a delayed double take.
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“This thing is a mare?”
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>Looking at her picture she seems even uglier now.
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>You stay there sitting on your ass with your mouth agape.
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>But slowly you start to realize something.
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>Your feelings of anxiety, the fear of rejection, the fear of opening up. They are all gone.
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>Makes sense, mares don't intimidate you at all. Its the opposite sex thats the problem.
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>You dont care what a mare thinks of you, because you dont have the least amount of attration to them, there is no sexual tension.
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“Maybe...”
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>An idea is forming inside your pretty pony head.
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“I could go on a date with her. Get some practice”
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>If only you knew what you where getting into
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“It’s not like somepony like her is going to reject me, I’ll be way out of her league it will be easy”
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>You glance at her address, it says she lives somewhere in Hoofheim.
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>That's a 20 minutes flight from Manehattan.
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“That's perfect. I won't risk running into anypony I know while I’m out with her”
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“I can just go on a few dates, see what it's like and never look back, she won't even be able to find me once I cut contact”
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>For a brief moment your consciousness seems to catch up with you.
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>You are preying on her?
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>But then you remember your freakout last night
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“It… it beats being alone.”
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>With the quill already at hoof you easily start writing your letter to this mare, the words you write come as easy as your quill is light
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“Hey girl, what do you mean Daring Do? It’s been years since the craze died. Blah blah blah I was a huge fan back in the days and blah blah blah defeat Ahuizotl blah blah blah HUGE NERD blah blah blah But if you are still a fan hit me up I’m always down to discussing the books”
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>You settle the quill down, and by settle I mean you threw it against the table, ink splashing a little around the point of impact.
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“Alright I’m done!”
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>No pony answers
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>You stick your head out of the cabin
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“Hello? I said I’m done”
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>A moment passes before the now familiar attendee answers your call
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>”Miss Rainbow Dash, are you all done with your letters?”
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“Yeah, all good”
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>”Good, just give me each letter along with each profile and we shall send them right away”
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“Oh no there is just this one”
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>You hoof him the letter
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>”Oh, and to whom does this letter belong to?”
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“Oh Yeah right, it's… well it's…”
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>Is that embarrassment you are feeling? That is very much unlike you
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“Its this one, this is the profile”
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>You now hoof him Floor’s profile, which was laying on the desk.
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>The attendee glazes his eyes ever so rapidly across the profile
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>”Very well Miss Rainbow Dash, we shall send her your letter in a few minutes”
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>Oh my God he knows
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>This is making you feel inadequate, you are already starting to regret your decision.
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>You follow him back to the main balcony, where he grabs both your profile and Floor’s and runs it through a bulky and loud machine.
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>After a few minutes of grinding noises it spills out two copies of the profiles.
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>”This one's for you to take home Miss Rainbow Dash”
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>He hoofs you a copy of Floor’s profile
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>”This one goes to Miss Floor Bored”
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>He folds your profile alongside your letter, wrapping it all in a cute oak brown envelope with a heart seal made of timber.
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>”And those go to the archives, so others patrons can have the chance of meeting you”
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>He says as he slides the two original profiles in a folder labeled “to the archives”. Having far too much fun for such a simple job.
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>”Now remember, you must warn us when you become unavailable…”
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>He explains the fine details of the dating agency but you are not paying attention.
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>Does he think you are gay? Is he judging you? Did he see Floor’s hideous picture? Does he think you are a freak for writing to such an ugly mare? He probably also realized Floor’s profile is old as fuck, and you are writing a single letter to the worse candidate they have in their agency.
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>But most important of all, why are you so self conscious? Is dating a mare really that shameful?
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>”And, how will you be paying Miss Rainbow Dash?”
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“Paying? Oh yeah sure… Here's my credit voucher…”
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>You freeze. If you use your wonderbolt credit voucher someone in HR (Horsie Resources) is going to see you are spending money on Timber, and word might spread.
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“Actually, how much was it again? I think I got the bits.”
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>He starts discriminating the services being charged. You dont care one bit. Just get to the point
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>He eventually does. It's a lot. Not a lot of money mind you, but a lot to pay in bits instead of credit.
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>You open your wallet and drop the bits on the table, making loud clinks.
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>You pass the bits from one side to another, counting under your breath.
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>And as if by a miracle, you got enough to pay in bits and some left over for a generous tip.
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“So this is for the services and this…”
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>You slide the smaller pile of bits to him.
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“Is for you being such a gentlecolt”
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>”Oh my Miss Rainbow Dash, are you sure?”
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>Thinking about it, it's kind of a lot for a tip.
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>But then at least you can be sure he won't be gossiping about the new girl who wrote to the freak show.
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>You also don't feel like shoving those cursed coins back into your wallet, you feel like leaving. Now.
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“Yeah sure, it was a wonderful experience and you snapped a really good photo of mine, so it's worth it, you take care now alright? Bye.”
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>You think he bowed, but you can't be sure since you almost dashed out of the place, just slow enough not to leave your trademark rainbow trail.
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>You are back at your house.
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>It’s a nice house, by the way. The Wonderbolts get generous benefits on top of their basic pay, and being as high ranked as you are, you can afford the rent of your house with the rent benefit alone.
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>But it's not your home, and right now you wish you were home.
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>You left early in the afternoon determined to take the first steps towards a coltfriend.
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>Instead you couldn’t write them a simple “hello” and ended up writing to the ugliest mare you have ever seen instead.
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>That is defeat, a rare feeling for you.
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“What was I thinking? Why am I such a mess?”
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>You start doing your weekend chores around the house, your days of being a slob long past you.
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>”A messy house is a messy mare” You remember Spitfire telling you.
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>Not that your house is neat and organized, there was plenty of chaos. You keep your clothes hanging until you need them, as a consequence your wardrobe is pretty much abandoned, you have no laundry hamper because you just pile the dirty clothes next to your bed until it's time to wash them all. Your shoes are never where you left them and God knows how many copies of the front door’s key there are lost somewhere in the house.
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>But there is nothing dirty, no dishes piled up, the fridge doesn't stink and the bathroom is respectable and presentable
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>Makes you proud every time.
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>You like to fantasize about the one day somepony will have a diarrhea dump in your bathroom and get really uncomfortable on how they are dirtying such a pristine toilet. You always imagine Spitfire suffering such a fate.
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“Hehe. I’m so fucking old”
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>As you finish your shores you start to cook dinner.
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>It’s the same as always, a blend of vegetables and fruits, doesn't taste bad nor does it taste good.
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>You did put some extra seasoning today, you've been experimenting with different types of seasoning as of late.
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>After all, you gotta know how to cook when you become a mother.
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>...
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“IF I become a mother.”
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>And just like that the loneliness settles in again.
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>It’s not so bad this time. Having at least taken some action is making you feel better about yourself.
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“I’ll just have to keep trying to write one of those damn letter”
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>You have a bite of you special blend, and squeeze in pleasure
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“Hmmm! This is good!”
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>You quickly finish your food, and just quickly wash the bowl. The leftovers will be eaten tomorrow both at lunch and dinner so you just shove the pan in the fridge.
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>Heading for your nightly shower you hear a strange bling. Reminds you of Twilight teleporting around.
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“The hell was that?”
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>It takes you a solid 20 seconds to connect the dots. It was probably the instantaneous messenger.
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>It's a wonderful apparatus, you can write somepony a letter and have it magically delivered in less than 10 minutes anywhere in the city. Manehatten being a very big city it has unicorns working on the system 24 hours a day.
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>You approach the little box, you can tell there is a letter inside thanks to the red flag being up
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>The letter doesn’t have an envelope, it's just the parchment, and by the messy look of it it's been written with charcoal instead of ink.
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>Your eyes go straight for the bottom, looking for a signature. No luck there so you just start reading.
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>”Hi Rainbow Dash! So nice of you to write to me! Thank you very…”
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You shove the parchment back into the box in a hurry, you know who this is
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“Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh”
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>She wrote you back, she actually wrote you back.
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>Gotta give her props, have more guts than you probably.
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>You are trotting around the room, pondering on what to do next.
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“Do I want this?”
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>Hell if you knew
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>You just flirted with a mare you have no attraction to and now she is flirting back
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“You idiot! What was I expecting? Idiot idiot idiot”
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>You trot around some more, the shock passes quite quickly and you return to your normal thinking self.
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>And your brain wants a shower, a cold one.
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>You step into the bathroom, taking a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.
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“I’m hot as fuck”
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>You might not be at your peak anymore, but you are far beyond most mares' dreams in terms of leanness and definition. Your wings are incredibly well defined and muscular, your plot is round and firm but still jiggles when you walk, each one of your hooves is a monster in their own right.
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>You lean your upper body against the bathroom’s balcony, inspecting your chest and abs.
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>You are not as fluffy on the chest as some stallions would prefer, but you think that what you have is charming in its own way. Your abs on the other hoof would make anypony jealous.
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>You continue down, inspecting your marehood. It’s as healthy as always.
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“Nothing wrong here”
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>You step into the shower, thinking about yourself.
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>Your fear of flirting with stallions had nothing to do with your self image, you were beyond hot and you knew it.
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“Them… Why am I like this?”
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>Cold showers always reinvigorate you and this one was no different, it washed away the bad thoughts too.
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>You decided you were going to read the letter, probably write another one back to her. Depending on its contents of course.
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>You wait for your hoofs to dry a bit more, then head back to the instantaneous message box.
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>You never really noticed before but it had a funny brand.
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“Hehe. Zap-zap”
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>You finally grab the letter, and read it throughout.
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>She spends the first paragraph thanking you in many different forms, it's a little jarring. Then she proceeds to defend her position as a late Daring Doo fan, that part brings a smile to your face, you can tell she really is a huge nerd about it.
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>Then she suddenly gets very straightforward.
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>”I noticed your profile says you are only looking for serious relationships, is that why you wrote to me?”
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“No bullshit huh? Straight to the point. I like it”
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>You set the letter back into the box, gently this time.
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>You can’t answer her now even if you wanted to, you got no paper nor ink.
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>Can probably buy some tomorrow, Manehattan never closes not even on Sundays
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>Now is time to sleep on this question of hers.
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“I can still bail out, just gotta say that was a friendly letter and that I’m not into mares”
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>You say staring into the ceiling as you lay down on your bed.
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“But she totally wants me, that's my chance of experiencing a date”
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>Even if.
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“Even if it’s with a mare”
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>You hold your hoof gently against your lips.
-
“She still has a mouth to kiss, still has a hoof to hold”
-
>And that is what you are craving the most right now, you need physical closure with somepony
-
“Anypony”
-
>Deep down you are feeling a little happy and a little proud that somepony is interested in you romantically. And just like that sleep slowly washes over you. What a day.
-
-
>You wake up way earlier than yesterday. It's around seven in the morning. Not as early as you wake up during the week but early enough to fully enjoy the day.
-
>You go for a quick morning shower, just the basics since you didn’t sweat last night anyway. >You wash your pits and your dock with barely any soap.
-
“Sometimes I’m gross like that Rarity, what can I say?” You say stepping out of the shower
-
>You imagine how much your friend would protest if she knew you didn't fully soap yourself.
-
>This put you on a good mood, and you start imitating Rarity’s mannerisms
-
“You simply must use this new soap I got darling the parfum de fleur, it will do wonders to your complexion”
-
>You start to use your free hoof to speak in a way similar to Rarity, albeit way more exaggerated, while you dry yourself with a towel with the other hoof.
-
“It hydrates the fur and makes your chest puff bigger! It's a miracle I tell you darling”
-
>You hang your towel in a chair nearby, where it will stay until you need it again.
-
“No way Rara, I’m just going to use laundry soap”
-
>You cover you mouth with both hooves, eyes going wild
-
“Laundry soap??? Darling such a travesty! Ooooooh.”
-
>You pretend to faint, flopping into your gymnastic mattress
-
>And you do your morning stretches, something you neglected to do yesterday.
-
>After stretching you take a look at your kitchen shelf, there is plenty for a good breakfast. But you decide to eat outside.
-
>Wearing only your scarf this time you head out to a bakery a few blocks from your house
-
>Had you come a little earlier you would have bumped into a swarm of students who eat their breakfast here before going to school just a block away.
-
“Wait no, its Sunday”
-
>The mare in the balcony hoofs you your cereal, milk and bread. She doesn't seem to care that you are talking to yourself.
-
>After eating you grab a few more things you don't really need from the displays. Some integral cookies, integral hay, a carton of fancy milk.
-
>That's because you are going to pay with credit, since you are all out of bits.
-
>You didn't really have enough to justify paying with credit, but it was just enough not to get a complaint from the cashier.
-
>Besides, everytime ponies see it's a wonderbolt credit voucher all their worries melt away, it's a very prestigious voucher.
-
>Leaving the bakery you head to the other side of the street, there is a small stationary store just across. After all, there's a school nearby.
-
>You also end up buying more than what you think you need, just so the cashier will accept the credit without complaints.
-
>You got a lot of ink, scrolls, envelopes and a few quills.
-
>With that it’s time to head back to your house, you are carrying a lot of bags.
-
>It makes you think back to when you were just a broke ass mare working a shitty wagie at the weather team.
-
>You wouldn’t even dare spending bits to eat outside back in those days, but now you are spending just to be polite.
-
>You have grown so much, you have accomplished so much.
-
“But I still can’t flirt with boys...”
-
-
>You are back at your house, and you put the groceries away, as neatly into the shelfs as Rainbow Dash can be neat
-
>Except you keep one pack of integral cookies, the carton of milk and one sheet of scroll, ink and envelope.
-
>You head to the table in the living room and set everything on top of it. Then you go fetch Floor Bored’s letter , a cookie already at hoof.
-
>You give it another quick read, and start working on your answer soon enough.
-
>End up filling most of the scroll with a nerd out about Daring Doo, when you are about to run out of space you decide to address the important question.
-
“About your last question. Yes I was hoping we could go out on a date and get to know each other better, what do you say?”
-
>And with that you sign your name at the bottom
-
>You give the letter a quick proof read, looking for any major grammar blunders, you don’t see any. You have gotten quite used to writing letters now that your job at the wonderbolts was much more administration and much less action.
-
>You read the last part a few times, mumbling the words under your breath.
-
>Are you lying?
-
“I do want to go on a date, I really do... It's just that...”
-
>You don’t really want to get to know her. You just want to know what a date feels like.
-
>You sign in resignation. It can't be helped, there is no other way to put a dating request, so you leave it as is.
-
“It's a half truth, at worst... Not a lie...”
-
>You sweep the cookie crumbs out of the scroll and table and finish your milk as you carefully fold the scroll inside the envelope.
-
>Then you head to the instantaneous messenger, you raise the antenna up and wank the charging lever.
-
>Seeing it charging up is fascinating, you can see small arcane particles gathering around the antenna, you can see them being absorbed by a strange looking glass orb and the whole thing is glowing in a bright red light.
-
>While it charges you check Floor’s profile for her number, and you dial it in the machine.
-
>It's a chore to dial
-
>Those disc dials were clearly built to be used by a horn and nopony came up with a better system yet.
-
>Thankfully the numbers show up in a display so you know you didn't screw up.
-
>And just as you finish dialing, the machine is glowing green, indicating that it is all charged up.
-
>You place your letter in the input box. You remember the instruction saying there can be nothing but paper in there so you double check just to be safe.
-
>With everything in order you pull the “send” lever, and true to its brand the letter is teleported away with a “zap” and then another “zap”. The whole machine shakes hard with each “zap” and both levers reset themselves.
-
>Soon enough one of the unicorns at the central is going to teleport your letter to its destiny.
-
>It’s still early, probably less than 10 a.m. You ponder on what to do next.
-
>You could go for a leisure flight and trot, maybe join a random group of ponies playing volleyball at the beach.
-
>But you've been writing about Daring Doo so much you are starting to miss the books.
-
“I’m pretty sure I moved them in”
-
>You go to the attic and sure enough, there they are, inside a moving cardboard covered in dust.
-
>You pull out a first edition of the first volume, signed by AK herself with a dedication to your very name.
-
>It doesn't seem as valuable as you once estimated it to be, but you feel just as proud for owning such a relic.
-
>You snuggle into your bed, you arrange a pile of pillows and make a comfortable cocoon with your blanket
-
“Comfy”
-
>You read, and you read some more. It is still as awesome and action packed as you remember.
-
“Daring Doo is so awesome”
-
>You stop when hunger gets the best of you, it's probably lunch time.
-
>You eat the leftovers from yesterday, leaving just enough for dinner.
-
>On your way to brush your teeth you glance at the instant messenger, the red flag is down.
-
“She didn't reply yet”
-
>Now you really want to read some more, but you have never been able to sit down for too long.
-
>You head out, not wearing anything this time.
-
>You end up in the central park, there are some ponies playing hoofball, their teams have both mares and stallions alike.
-
>Probably just a casual match them
-
“Hey dudes, can I join in?”
-
>Sure enough they let you play.
-
>But not before rearranging the teams, your greek God physique tipping them off that you were not the average hoofball player
-
>You end up with a team of mostly mares and the odd skinny stallion
-
>The game starts, and it's plain obvious that them, all of them, are absolute amateurs.
-
>You could easily carry the game by yourself and score a hundred points.
-
>But that's not the pony you are anymore.
-
>You instead play the support role, passing the ball evenly among your team mates
-
>You even let the enemy team dribble you every now and then.
-
>At some point in the match you whisper something to a mare who isn't doing very great
-
“Stay near the goal alright? I’ll pass you the ball and all you gotta do is bucket it”
-
>She nods
-
>And you get serious for a second, you dominate the ball, lure all the opposite team away from the mare at the goal and then perform a small miracle passing the ball perfectly to her.
-
>She meagerly kicks, and she scores.
-
>Both your team and the enemy team go wild, picking her up to celebrate such an awesome score. The glory is all hers.
-
>The sight makes you happy
-
>These ponies sure know how to quit while they are ahead, and the match comes to an end.
-
>It becomes obvious who are the couples and who are the single ponies
-
>The couples are heading to the benches and to the vending stalls
-
>The singles, mostly stallions, are forming a circle in the middle of the field
-
>You join them, it feels only natural.
-
>And it looks like your skills didn’t went unnoticed
-
>They are all showering you with praises
-
>Your ego is out of control and you just brag along
-
>They all know you are a wonderbolt now, an elite wonderbolt nonetheless.
-
>You are all having fun and laughing until one stallion lets out a gem
-
>”Your husband is either the luckiest man alive or a poor bastard having to deal with all that potency”
-
>He makes a humping motion
-
>In your stupor and in your innocence you reply without considering the implications.
-
“Nah man I wish. I’m single as fuck”
-
>”You? Single? Girl you have gotta give me a chance at a date”
-
>You freeze, the color quickly drains from your face
-
>”No way, you should go out with me instead he is just a loser!”
-
>Color probably drained from your mane as well, your heart is pounding.
-
>”Fuck off dude, I asked her out first”
-
>The stallion steps closer to you
-
>”I won't take no for an answer girl, you are just too awesome”
-
>He is resting his hoof gently on your shoulder.
-
>You don't recoil, physical contact doesn’t scare you at all.
-
>Your rational mind is trying to speak.
-
>Say yes
-
“I-I… I-I… Well… I…”
-
>I want this, just say yes
-
>You instinctively lean slightly against his hoof
-
“Hmf… pouf… argha…”
-
>You are making weird noises instead.
-
>”Are you ok girl? Don’t you go all shy on me now”
-
>Shy is an understatement.
-
>A feeling of nausea is taking over you
-
>The other stallions aren't watching this silently
-
>”Dude you are freaking her out”
-
>”No I’m not, she is just shy, look”
-
>That makes you pay attention to what you are doing.
-
>And you are all but hugging the stallion’s hoof, your body got closer to him on its own volition and you are touching flanks.
-
>You can also tell you are blushing up a fever, and your hoofs are shaking. Shaking hard.
-
>Just say yes Dash. Just say yes. Please stop doing this to yourself. Just say yes.
-
>But you just stand there in silence. Probably looking pathetic.
-
>”It’s ok you don’t have to answer now. Here I’ll give you my number”
-
>That other stallion joins in
-
>”Hey if it's just numbers here’s mine too”
-
>”Dude fuck off, I asked her out first.”
-
>”Yeah but she didn't choose you did she?”
-
>He first stallion steps in front of the second stallion
-
>”I’ll write my name on mine so you know this is me ok? I’m <he said his name, you didn't register> by the way.
-
>”Yeah and so will I” the second stallion grabs the quill from the other one’s mouth. “I’m <blurr> it was awesome playing with you”
-
>You find yourself with the number of two good looking stallions.
-
>”That's enough you two” the one mare in the singles circle intervenes, and starts pushing the two away from you, but not before addressing you.
-
>”You join us at the ice cream stall once you recompose yourself ok honey?”
-
>You nod
-
>”You guys know I’m single too right? How come I never got a number? If yall think I’m gonna…”
-
>And they drift away, the rest to the ponies following her general direction.
-
>You go sit down on one of the benches.
-
>It's not empty, there is a stallion reading his newspaper on the other end.
-
>You hang your head low, curl down, you are sweating bullets. The aftershock of the experience makes your breath uneven and heavy, your hooves still shaking.
-
>You bench buddy can't help but to notice your distress
-
>”Ms. Do you need a doctor? I can get you to a hospital right away”
-
>Yeah I need a doctor, a head doctor. I need it like yesterday.
-
>That makes you chuckle
-
“Hehe, no, no thanks I’m fine. It’s just that my pressure went up all of a sudden. I just got to sit it out”
-
>As if to prove your point you adopt a much more open posture.
-
>You sure don’t look like a little girl in distress so the stallion seems to trust your judgment
-
>It takes you about an hour to recompose.
-
>You feel like going back to that group.
-
>But as you look around the park, they have already left.
-
>Your bench buddy did too, you didn't notice.
-
>The sun is setting, the stalls are being pulled away, everypony is leaving.
-
>So you leave too.
-
-
>You are once again back at home.
-
>You notice the red flag in the instant messenger is up as you enter
-
“Not in the mood”
-
>Getting to the living room you set the two numbers you got from the stallions under a paper weight, not giving it much thought now.
-
>You go have dinner, a little too early but you just want the day to end.
-
>Might be a day old leftover but it is still good.
-
>Tomorrow is Monday, you will get to scream and slap the shit out of some cadetes.
-
>That’s a comforting thought, working will get your mind out of today’s vexation.
-
>You wash the bowl you ate from and the pan you used to cook.
-
>Then you go wash yourself.
-
>Get that sweat from the match off
-
>You can’t help but ruminate on how you acted this afternoon while you shower.
-
“Why am I like this?”
-
>Leaving the shower you hardly bother with drying, you just lay on your bed with your fur still humid.
-
>But try as you might sleep doesn’t find you
-
>You hardly got tired from the match, so sleeping early won’t work
-
>You grab the Daring Doo you were reading earlier today, and finish another chapter.
-
>Still not sleepy
-
>You sit on your bed.
-
“I have to at least try”
-
>You grab a fresh scroll, and the two numbers you were gifted early today
-
>You think for a second which one should you write to, and settles for the first stallion
-
“He did ask first.”
-
>Then you look at the numbers, one reads Cloud Sweeper and the other reads Bulky Buster
-
“Wait, who was who again?”
-
>You are trying your best to remember, but you can’t make the connection.
-
“Cloud Sweeper, that's a pegasus name, which one had wings?”
-
>You keep trying to remember, but you only looked at them when you were all talking about sports, you were too scared to look at them after they asked you out.
-
>This is killing the little resolve you had.
-
“Fucking shit, why did it had to be two?”
-
>You pull Cloud Sweeper’s number closer to you, deciding that if you got to choose at random might as well go for the pegasus.
-
>And then you stare at the blank scroll in front of you.
-
>After a few minutes you muster the courage to pick up your quill, and it's a few other minutes until you wet the tip with ink.
-
>You just hover the quill over the paper, the ink drops are damaging the scroll.
-
>After a while you move your hoof slightly to the side, and start writing where there isn't a pool of ink.
-
“Hi”
-
>This simple word took you ages to write, the lines are all jittery and you had to refresh your ink twice because of how long it took, making it very dense and unnatural.
-
“Sorry for freak out”
-
>It’s taking you an average of two dips in the ink pot per letter, everything is jittery thanks to your shaky hooves and it looks like a mess of ink.
-
“Am shy”
-
>Apologizing was easy, now is time for the fun part.
-
“Would”
-
>Anxious tears are flowing free down your cheeks, damaging the scroll even more
-
“Like”
-
>The nausea is back and you are dizzy, probably from breathing like a maniac
-
“Date”
-
>You dash to the bathroom, threatening to puke. Thankfully nothing comes out.
-
>You collapse into the bathroom floor, curling into a ball.
-
>Almost sleep right then and there. But you just aren't that weak yet.
-
>You stand up and go back to look at your masterpiece.
-
“Hi sorry for freak out am shy would like date”
-
>The hoofwriting is beyond terrible, you are not sure if it is even legible.
-
>Not only are the lines super crooked, they are smudged with ink.
-
>There are random dots of ink that fell from your quill in the patch between the single paragraph and the ink pot
-
>Not to say the tear drops at the bottom of the scroll.
-
>All in all it looks like a retarded schizo wrote this.
-
“There is no way I can send this”
-
>You just leave your mess there and go to bed, exhausted from writing the letter.
-
“If I can even call it a letter”
-
-
-
Part 2
-
-
>You wake up at five in the morning, probably a few minutes earlier in fact.
-
>You power through your morning routine, a power cold shower to wake up, a powerful healthy breakfast to endure the day and a quick stretch so you won't rust.
-
>Going back and forth the house you can’t help but look at the letter from yesterday, still just where you left it.
-
“Not now Dash”
-
>You hop inside your Wonderbolt uniform.
-
>It’s just the captain’s jacket, you no longer need to use that hard to put on overall.
-
>And your shades, can’t forget your shades.
-
>Leaving your house you can’t help yourself once again, and this time you look at the upright red flag in the instant messenger.
-
“Definitely not now.”
-
>Just as you suspected, work helps you suppress yesterday’s screw up
-
>Everytime your thoughts linger too long on your less than respectable behavior you just join the cadets on whatever physical task they are doing.
-
“You call that a push up? Everypony with me now. One, two, three…”
-
>And the day goes by pretty quickly, with you finding any excuse to either join in or to scream at one of the cadets.
-
>Although this next one is no excuse, you are fully justified in what you are about to do.
-
“Twenty three, to me. NOW”
-
>A startled pegasus stops amid his stunt, and does a clunky landing in front of you, his hooves holding on to his training gear.
-
>”Yes ma'am”
-
>You slap him right across the face
-
“Are you not wearing your straps twenty three?”
-
>He looks down shyly for half a second, then back to you.
-
>”No ma’am”
-
>Another slap, this time on the other cheek.
-
“This deep into shit and you are not wearing your straps twenty three?”
-
>”Y-yes ma’am”
-
>You go nose to nose with him.
-
“Your partner falls on the ground, what are you going to do twenty three? Are you going to just drop off your gear twenty three?”
-
>”No ma’am”
-
“Are you going to shove it up your ass twenty three?”
-
>”No ma’am”
-
“THEN PUT ON YOUR FUCKING STRAPS”
-
>He quickly does.
-
“FUCKING HELL, THREE YEARS OF CAMP TWENTY THREE. BACK TO THE TRACK, FROM THE BEGINNING. GO.”
-
>And off he goes.
-
>All in all it was another successful day.
-
>You are going to make a wonderbolt out of those clueless cadets, whether they like it or not.
-
>At the showers the mood is cheerful, everypony is exhausted but having the captain workout with the team is always a morale boost.
-
>You go around smacking some of the cadets' flanks, with either encouraging words or putting egos down a peg, depending on the recruit.
-
>You are very proud of your team.
-
-
>On your way back to your house the hype slowly dies down, and you are trapped in your thoughts by the time you make it to the front door.
-
>You go straight to the letter on top of the table.
-
“I can rewrite this, make it less awkward”
-
>But the mere thought is making you anxious.
-
>Massaging your temple you remember there is a second option, an easier option.
-
>You finally grab the letter from the instant messaging box.
-
>Once again, there is no envelope, and it was written with charcoal just like before.
-
>It’s way shorter too.
-
“It's too early for a date, we should know each other better before meeting”
-
>You stare into nothingness in shock and disbelief.
-
“What the fuck? Knowing each other is what a date is for you stupid bitch”
-
>You didn’t know that yet, but that was the first out of many times you would call her a stupid bitch.
-
>You set her letter on the table, unsure of what to do.
-
“I mean… It is? Right? I’m not that out of touch”
-
>You are not feeling rejected, not one bit. The invitation was not sincere to begin with, and there is no way a mare can invoke such a feeling on you.
-
>Instead you are annoyed, peeved if you will.
-
“A mare like me is giving her a chance and she is not sure I’m worth it? Who does she think she is?”
-
>Now you have two pieces of paper on your table, one is a ugly letter from one ugly mare waiting for a reply and another is an even uglier letter waiting to be rewritten.
-
>You settle for working on your letter to Floor Bored.
-
“It’s a warm up, before I go to the real deal”
-
>With your trusty quill you quickly write a reply.
-
>Deciding to humor her, you agree with her sentiment, and you write a little bit about yourself.
-
>Actually that’s not entirely true, you lied about your job. Said you are a personal trainer at a local gym
-
“No way I’m letting her know I’m a wonderbolt, the last thing I need is her showing up on a show.”
-
>Finishing your letter you give it a half-interested proofread, and sign your name.
-
>You go through all the ritual to send the letter, and the machine finally lets out its trademark “zap” and “zap”
-
“Hehe. Zapzap.”
-
>Now all that’s left to do is to rewrite your letter from yesterday
-
>You stare it down.
-
>It’s just standing there, menacingly.
-
“You know what? One letter per day is plenty. I’ll get to it later”
-
>You grab it off the table and store it in a drawer, out of sight.
-
-
>As you are cooking dinner you hear that snappy teleport sound, much to your surprise.
-
>Leaving your boiling veggies unattended you go check the instant messenger and sure enough, the flag is up.
-
>You give her letter a quick read, Floor Bored seems relieved you didn’t give up on her.
-
“Yeah, you are lucky I’m desperate too.”
-
>And as you continue down the letter you learn something new.
-
“Unemployed huh?”
-
>You feel like that's not the whole story, so you read the last part again, slower this time. Your eyes narrowing down as if to pinpoint the exact keyword you missed.
-
“Never had a job? Really?”
-
>You go grab your quill, it looks like you are about to make use of the instant quality of your messenger.
-
>You pad the letter a bit, try to reassure her you are interested, just some meaningless filler really.
-
>Then at the end you ask her how she gets by without a job.
-
>You are reasoning she might be a freelancer, but that’s just wishful thinking.
-
>You send the letter just in time, dinner is cooked. And it was good, not delicious but good.
-
>You are tidying up the kitchen as you hear the snappy teleport again.
-
>Your hoofs are humid from doing the dishes but you grab the letter anyway.
-
>She seems to appreciate your reassuring words, maybe a little too much even.
-
>For you it was just filler, for her it seems to matter somehow.
-
>At the end of the letter you get your answer.
-
“So she lives with her parents…”
-
>You grab her Timber profile, and check her age again.
-
>It still reads 27, just like before.
-
>There is a headache forming deep inside your pony head.
-
>You write her back, padding in with some mushy words. Then you drop the important question.
-
“Are you enrolled in college?”
-
>And off the letter goes, with a “zap” and a “zap”.
-
>And you hear yet another distant zap while you shower.
-
>With your towel still wrapped around your neck you grab the letter with humid hooves once more.
-
>There is a whole vent about how she never fit in at school, how it was a painful experience and how she barely finished high school using a special class instead of the regular method.
-
>But you got your answer, she isn't enrolled in anything at the moment.
-
“Never had a job, living with her parents, no degree and not studying anything either.”
-
>That headache finally blossoms.
-
“What a loser”
-
>Loser doesn't do it justice, is there a word for ponies like this?
-
“I bet Twilight has a technical name for these ponies.”
-
>You write the last letter of the day, it’s pure filler, and at the end you let her know you are going to bed.
-
>The reply comes as you are doing your before bed stretches
-
>You can’t help but to go check what she has to say.
-
“Good night Rainbow Dash ;) Thanks for talking to mee. S2”
-
>You stare at the little heart at the end, a dreadful reminder that this isn't a letter from a friend.
-
>Finally you go to bed, you wasted the night talking to this mare when you could have gone through a few more chapters of Daring Do.
-
>And you learned she is even worse than what you first thought.
-
-
>Yesterday was the first day of what would become a new routine
-
>Get back from work, exchange some letters with Floor Bored and off to bed
-
>She didn’t have any other ground shattering news thankfully. All the while you just kept the subjects generic and inoffensive.
-
>She did ask some key questions however, most of which you ended up lying about. Either to preserve your relative anonymity or because you didn't want to admit you were a full virgin at 30 years old.
-
>Especially because according to the letter in front of you, Floor Bored wasn't a virgin herself.
-
“How does a mare like her get some while I’m here all alone? Bullshit”
-
>You say in frustration, reading her letter again just to make sure you got it right.
-
“...speaking of which I had a few flings, but it wasn't very good. It was just some stallions looking for a quick pump and dump. I agreed because I was lonely. I have this really bad memory of a stallion calling me clingy and needy when I tried cuddling with him after sex. It’s not too much to ask right? I just want to feel a real pony connection and...”
-
>Hm. Figures.
-
>Floor Bored being as ugly as she is, you need not to wonder why ponies wouldn't want to cuddle with her after the deed is done.
-
>Your jealousness dies down a little, and the sad reality of her experience settles down on you... Poor girl... And soon after the reality of what you are doing overshadows all your other thoughts.
-
“I am just doing the same as those stallions did to her?”
-
>Well not exactly, you reason. For once you have no intention of going to bed with any mare, let alone her.
-
“Hoof holding? Of course. Cuddling? Sure. Kissing? Yeah I wanna know what the fuss is all about. But there is no way I’m having my first time with a mare. No way.”
-
>You are gesticulating hard as you talk to yourself, this is definitely engrossing you.
-
>You go to write your reply, she opened up a lot so you think it's just natural to comfort her a little.
-
>You quill works just as quickly as always, writing lengthy paragraphs of sweet nothings.
-
“...and besides, you won’t have to worry about cuddles when we are together. We will only break apart to swipe the sweat off your coats. ;)”
-
>As you finish your letter you read back what you wrote.
-
“Is this too sappy?”
-
>It is.
-
“It's a flirting letter, its gotta be sappy, there is no other way”
-
>But more importantly.
-
>Are you lying again?
-
“I’m not lying. I want to cuddle with somepony...”
-
>You ruminate these thoughts as you send your letter back to Floor Bored.
-
>Loneliness is creeping inside your heart.
-
>And a little while after you send the message you can't contain your emotions, the fear of being forever alone is eating you up inside.
-
>So you grab a fresh scholl, and write another letter before Floor Bored has the chance to reply
-
“Look Floor, I have a lot of love to give, and I’m looking for somepony who wants to receive it. If you are interested we can make it work. What do you say?”
-
>That wasn't a lie, this much you could say for sure.
-
>Also, smooth.
-
>Unfortunately that didn't seem to relieve the grasp at your heart.
-
“It's so unfair. I could make a stallion really happy, anypony would be lucky to have me as their marefriend”
-
>You are still despairing over your failed love life when the instant message box zaps the last zap of the day.
-
>It takes you a whole beat to remember why somepony would write to you this late at night.
-
>Floor Bored’s letter is covered in thick charcoal lines making heart figures all over the parchment and in the middle it simply reads
-
“Yes”
-
>While it doesn't surprise you one bit, that simple letter somehow is making you excited, there is even a smile on your face.
-
>Looks like you will have your mock date after all.
-
-
>Agreeing on the date was a rollercoaster.
-
>It turns out Floor Bored doesn’t want to go to the lake, nor to the park, nor to the ice cream store or anywhere really.
-
>She wants to meet you at her house, so she can present you to her parents.
-
“I told my parents all about you Rainbow Dash” her letter reads. “They will be super happy to meet you. We can have dinner and you can stay the night, I have a queen size bed ;)”
-
>And she is very insistent.
-
>You should be the one with all the leverage in this negotiation, but somehow she is taking the lead.
-
>Maybe you are afraid to lose your first date? Or maybe you are just humoring her.
-
“I’ll only meet her once, twice at best. She can have it her way for all I care.”
-
>Yeah, you are the one in control. Floor Bored just doesn’t know it.
-
“Besides, I was one hundred percent clear. Not going to sleep with her on my first date.”
-
>You take a second to correct yourself
-
“EVER, not sleeping with her ever”
-
>You check one of her replies again, as reassurance.
-
“I understand, we don't have to do it on the first date. We can just “””cuddle on the bed””” while I read you some of my Daring Do fanfic”
-
>See? You are in control.
-
>You have about a dozen letters, by now all out of order, setting up this first date with her. But there seems to be an agreement.
-
>Summing everything up you write to her to seal the deal.
-
“So, its this Saturday at 5 p.m at your house”
-
>You had that right
-
“Yes, I’ll be waiting for you my love ~~s2”
-
>You wince.
-
>She just called you love.
-
“Maybe those letters were too sappy afterall”
-
-
>This back and forth took around two weeks and a half.
-
>Now it's Wednesday, so you have plenty of time to book a salon.
-
“No time like the present”
-
>You go downtown after work instead of going back to your house, on your way to “Schönes Stutfohlen“
-
>It's your go to salon, even if you can’t pronounce its name.
-
>You always loved salons and spas. It was a big turning moment in your life when you finally got out of the closet and joined Rarity and Fluttershy on their weekly spa sessions.
-
>Good memories. Anyway.
-
>You are not planning on doing a full makeover, just some professional grooming.
-
>Get some fur trimmed (specially down there), hoofs clipped, wings groomed, mane and tail... All that girly stuff.
-
>You do all of that yourself at home, but the professionals definitely do a better job.
-
>”Welcome to the Schönes Stutfohlen, how can we... Oh Rainbow Dash! We missed you.”
-
>The receptionist is still the same mare from three years ago.
-
“Yeah I just wanna book something this friday night”
-
>”Absolutely! Here you go, you know the deal”
-
>She hoofs you a card, where you can mark the services you want.
-
“Is Ms Aryanne available?” You say between your teeth, with the quill in your mouth “She is my favorite”
-
>”Way ahead of you Dash... Just one more second... Yes she is available!”
-
“Great, we good?”
-
>You give the card back to the receptionist.
-
>”We are wunderbar”
-
>You can't help but giggle along with her, you are in such a good mood.
-
>Next you give her your credit voucher.
-
>In this place you pay up front, these mares don't mess around.
-
>And you are paying a premium price too, Friday night bookings are the most expensive and you will be serviced by the owner of the place.
-
>Worth it, Ms Aryanne knows how to clip your hooves without triggering your fight or flight response. And she is very good at everything else too.
-
>There is nothing left to do except to wait for the big day.
-
-
>Today is Thursday, and you are back from work.
-
>You keep to the same as always, writing something back to Floor Bored whenever you have some free time between your evening routine.
-
>You have all her letters now neatly organized and in order on your table.
-
>You also have read through them more than a few times.
-
>It's weird, the two of you have been talking so much but you haven't really learned anything about her.
-
>Well except that…
-
“She is a honest to God neet”
-
>You asked one of the nerds in the intelligence department, turns out there is a name for these types of ponies.
-
>Deep down you know that this whole situation is your fault, you intentionally kept the letters inoffensive
-
>You also gave Floor Bored the impression that you like her.
-
>Going into this date with all the wrong baggage.
-
>Speaking of going to this date
-
“Is it weird to meet her parents this early?”
-
>It is. Unfortunately you didn't know that.
-
“Maybe she is a family oriented mare”
-
>That’s not what family oriented means.
-
“...It can’t be that bad… Right?”
-
>And truth be told, the more you think about it, the less awful this whole “dating with a mare” ordeal seems to be.
-
“She is a pony just like me. She is lonely just like me. She is a huge nerd about Daring Do just like me. I bet we can have a good time just talking”
-
>And then you just dump her, right?
-
“Going on a date with somepony I fully intend to dump has got to be the weirdest part about it all.”
-
>But that is a problem for future Rainbow Dash.
-
-
>Today is Friday night, and you are at the “Schönes Stutfohlen”
-
>You made it past the reception and Ms. Aryanne promptly greets you.
-
>”Miss Rainbow Dasch. It is ein pleazure to haffe vu back”
-
>Aryanne is a tall, slim and an absolutely gorgeous earth pony.
-
>She has a long golden mane and tail, her eyes are like a clear blue sky and her coat is white like snow. Her cutie mark is a big pink heart with a strange looking symbol inside.
-
>She also portrays herself with enough grace and discipline to put princess Celestia to shame, her posture is always impeccable and there isn't a single stray hair in her body.
-
>And her voice is stern, with only a hint of softness. On top of all that, her foreign accent gives her a mysterious edge to everything she says.
-
>Aryanne reminds you a lot of Rarity, but while Rarity is a Lady, Aryanne is more of a Mistress.
-
“Pleasure is all mine Ms. A. I love it here at the Sch… Sch… Schö…
-
>”Just SS is fine mein dear. Now vy don't vu zit on zee chair so ve can get started.”
-
>And started you get. She is working her magic. Everything she touches is made better almost as if by magic. You are bragging about your team all the while, gossip is part of the package after all.
-
“And you won’t believe what twenty three did! That motherfucker...”
-
>She is clipping your hooves when the inevitable question comes up.
-
>”Are vu getting ready for ein big night, Miss Rainbow Dasch?”
-
“Yeah you bet! I got a date tomorrow.”
-
>”Wunderbar! But… It is not vith ein Griffon is it?”
-
“What? No. She is a pony. Why do you ask?”
-
>”Nein reazon”
-
>She is staring at you. You are staring back at her.
-
>Why are we staring?
-
>You suddenly avert your eyes when you realize your mistake.
-
>Of course that’s just a declaration of guilt.
-
>You done fucking up.
-
>Aryanne finishes your hooves in silence, it doesn't seem like she is going to press on the matter.
-
>”Miss Rainbow Dasch, vy don't vu lay down on zee mazage table?”
-
“Oh… massage?... I…”
-
>You are still worried about your slip up.
-
“I didn't pay for a massage”
-
>”Zat is quite alright mein dear. Zis is on zee houze.
-
>Her hoofwork is nothing short of miraculous. Her hoofs are going across your body while loud “cracks'' and “snaps” echo in the room.
-
“D-damn you are g-good.” You can’t hide the pleasure in your voice.
-
>”Vu flatder me dear “
-
>She changes your position, you are now sitting on the table while she massages your shoulders.
-
>”Say mein dear, vu are very zuccessful, ja?”
-
“Yeah I like to think so”
-
>Your bolstering self seems to have suffered a killing blow
-
>”Don't be modest mein dear, zat is not like vu.”
-
>She snaps one of your shoulders without warning.
-
“Ouch”
-
>Was that punishment?
-
>”Vith your career und vonderful body, effen I am ein little jealous of vu.”
-
“Haha. Living the dream Imma right?”
-
>”Right vu are”
-
>Her hooves stop moving, they are now resting on your shoulders, it almost feels like a hug.
-
>”Aren't vu too old to be mezing around vith mares?”
-
>Shit.
-
>Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.
-
>What do you do? Do you come clean? Do you deny it? Do you just bolt out? You paid already, maybe bolting out is the way to go.
-
>That won't work. Her hooves are now holding you down on the table. Can this mare read minds or something?
-
>Maybe it was the massage, but you end up accepting her embrace.
-
“Y-yes I am”
-
>”Zen vat is zee matter mein dear?”
-
“I am not gay!” You say, a little too close to a shout.
-
>Where did that come from?
-
>”I can tell mein dear. I really can.”
-
>There is no pretense anymore, she is giving you a back hug. Although a reserved one.
-
>You can’t bring yourself to answer her question. Mostly because you don't know the answer yourself.
-
>What is the matter with you? Two stallions were fighting to go out with you but you chose a mare.
-
>Aryanne breaks the hug. Somepony had to eventually.
-
>”I don’t know vat is going through your head Miss Rainbow Dasch. But zometimes ve all haffe to make zome mistakes in life. Zis mistake is yours to make, just be zure to learn from it”
-
>She sure doesn’t hold her punches.
-
“Thanks Ms. I’ll think about that.”
-
>”Nein need to zank me. Arh ! Now off to zee mirror room, vu dezerffe it”
-
>Her accent always get more accentuated when she speaks too quickly
-
>The mirror room is just a large space with mirrors for walls where the clients can admire the salon’s work.
-
>You spend a long time there. Half admiring your pretty self and half thinking about what Aryanne said.
-
“She is right. This is a mistake. I should be doing this with somepony special.”
-
>That’s not the whole story, Dash.
-
“I… I should be doing this with a stallion.”
-
>There you go.
-
-
>Today is the day.
-
>And be it a mistake or not you are doing it.
-
>Just got to get it out of your system.
-
>You have your weekend chores out of the way and you ate a hearty lunch.
-
>You took an extra long shower and you are wearing the perfume Fluttershy gave you as a farewell gift three years ago
-
>Your beloved scarf and cap are fresh and ironed
-
>And you have some basic necessities packed in your trusty sports bag
-
>You are flying above the road, on your way to Floor Bored’s house.
-
“Ok. Ok. Lets recapitulate the plan”
-
>Trying real hard to keep your wits about you.
-
“I’ll get to her house and I’ll give her a hearty hello”
-
>You mimic a cute voice
-
“Hiii Floor! Nice to meet you in pony!” <hugs> “I love your mane, you look so much cuter than your picture”
-
>Now you are faking a gasp with one hoof pointing in front of you
-
“That’s your mom? No way I thought she was your sister”
-
>Next you adopt a suave tone to your voice
-
“So Floor, why don't we get comfortable so you can tell me all about that fanfic you wrote”
-
>You are throwing kisses in the air, your eyebrows wiggling.
-
“Sounds like a solid plan, it's going to be easy.”
-
>If only you knew how naive you are.
-
>You arrive at your destination, following the address was easy enough in such a small town.
-
>By the quality of the houses you guess this is a low income neighborhood
-
>Floor Bored’s house is no exception of course.
-
>Her house is just a rectangle, and it looks very small.
-
>The painting is fine at least.
-
>It’s one of those houses where you have to go through the garage to get inside.
-
>And because you are at the front, you can see inside the garage through the barred gate
-
>It’s a mess of rubble and dust, except for the parked carriage everything looks abandoned.
-
>The carriage is also too big for the garage, you will have to squeeze your way though.
-
>But first things first.
-
“Where is the bell?”
-
>Looking around there doesn't seem to be one.
-
>So you clop your hooves and call her.
-
“Floor? It’s me Rainbow Dash”
-
> Why did you do that? Do you really want to get inside after seeing the reception? This place looks like a dump.
-
>But the deed is done, and now you can hear her dogs barking at you from inside the house.
-
>An ogre soon emerges from inside the house, the difference in lighting makes it hard to properly see the creature. But it addresses you, its voice sounds unnatural, like its mimicking the way a mare speaks”
-
>”Come on in, the gate is unlocked”
-
>Sure enough it is unlocked. It is also being held together by iron wires in what you can only guess is a lazy work around to a broken gate.
-
>Your instincts are telling you to flee, burn the letters and never come back.
-
>But the devil is guiding your hooves, and they open the gate for you.
-
>Squeezing between the gate and the oversized carriage you scrape your hind leg.
-
“Ouch”
-
>There is no blood, yet you have an urge to sterilize the area.
-
>The urge however is soon overwhelmed when you get a look at the ogre in front of you.
-
>You are not prepared.
-
>”Hey”
-
>She is much uglier than her picture. Whoever took that photo managed to capture her best angle on her best day.
-
>She also gained a lot of weight since she took that picture. That is not a chubby girl, Mrs Cakes is chubby, Floor Bored is just plain fat, obese.
-
>Her mane is long, and wet. Probably just got out of the shower.
-
>Either way you are taking too long to answer
-
“H-Hi”
-
>You are just gawking at her, your eyes darting up and down her figure
-
>”Are you nervous?”
-
“Y-yes, a little.”
-
>No you are not. You are just having a third degree septic shock from looking at her
-
>The devil haven’t let go of your body quite yet, and instead of fleeing you approach the mare to give her an awkward side hug
-
“Nice to meet you” You say, with uncharacteristic meekness
-
>”Nice to meet you too”
-
>Now with your head past her neck you get a look at her side profile, her belly is really protuberant and...
-
>...Holy Shit
-
>She doesn't have a cutie mark.
-
>You know that some ponies don’t discover their cutie marks until adulthood but you never knew somepony could go this long without one
-
>What does this even mean?
-
>You break the hug, Floor Bored is looking at you in the eyes, smiling.
-
>”Don’t be nervous, it's alright.”
-
>It is not.
-
>”Come inside my mother made us coffee”
-
>She turns around and goes inside the house. You would have fled this time had you not been once again left in shock, at her scars this time.
-
>She has two huge bruises, one in each of her hind legs. It extends from the flank all the way to the knee pit. It’s purple like a contusion, the texture is similar to dry, rotten leather and it's mostly bald, with only some stray patches of fur growing in the damaged area.
-
>Needless to say it's a nasty wound.
-
>You take a closer look, is this a skin disease?
-
>Doesn't look like it, there are no rashes or pus. Looks like trauma. Old, untreated trauma.
-
>Had one of your cadets shown up with an injury like that you would send them to the hospital to get it to heal properly.
-
>And just like that, hypnotized by her flank, you are inside her house.
-
>Past the point of no return.
-
>The living room consists only of a stand that is giving in to the weight of its contents, the contents being farming tools that look unusable, there is also a beaten up three seater sofa against a wall and a beaten up two seater sofa, with a big hole in one of the seats, against the other wall.
-
>Almost poetic in its own twisted way that hole.
-
>Floor Bored grabs your bag and rests it on the sofa. You get off your cap and scarf and rest it on top of the bag too.
-
>Yet you don't have time to admire the details of the living room, because you and Floor Bored are already in the kitchen, where her mother awaits you.
-
>She is a short and equally fat mare, her coat is dull and castigated making her look sick and old.
-
>You recognize that sickly look, that is what happens when you work under the sun without taking care of your coat. Her case is probably what happens when you do it for a lifetime.
-
>There is also what you suspect is ale on the table
-
>”Hi Rainbow Dash, I am Cold Lunch. I’m so happy you came, my daughter has been talking about you nonstop” Her voice is definitely of an old mare, who has been gargling nails.
-
>That on the table is ale by the way, you can smell it in her breath. Not because it’s super strong, but because she is too close to you.
-
>”I want you to feel welcome, you are like my daughter in law”
-
>What the fuck is she talking about? Is she drunk already?
-
“Alright” is all you can muster.
-
>You sit at the kitchen table, flabbergasted, overwhelmed and feeling trapped.
-
>Floor Bored sits next to you. She is a very big pony and the table is very small so your legs are fully touching.
-
>Normally this would be romantic, but to you all it did was add claustrophobia to the list of bad feelings.
-
>Her mother sets the coffee kettle on the table, and Floor Bored grabs a cup that was previously on the table already, and begins to serve you.
-
>You can tell from where you are that the cup is dirty.
-
>That makes you glance in the direction of the sink, there seems to be some dishes inside. Not many, just the ones they used for lunch you figure.
-
>You grab the cup of coffee in front of you, dirty or not. You could use some stimulants to get out of this catatonic stupor.
-
>You blow it off a little, make sure it won't burn your tongue and give it a sip.
-
>You regret it.
-
>Its sweet to the point of being acidic, and it burns the back of your throat
-
>Makes you cough hard and curl up.
-
>”What's the matter Rainbow Dash?”
-
“It’s saccharine”
-
>”What?”
-
“It’s... Sweet. I don't eat sugar.”
-
>”Ah that's ok, my dad doesn't either. Here”
-
>She gulps your cup down in one go. Knowing what that coffee tasted like the sight of her drinking it makes you feel a jab of nausea in your stomach.
-
>And then she pours you some coffee from a kettle that was already on the table.
-
>”I have to warn you though, it’s really strong!”
-
“That’s ok. I like my coffee black”
-
>You sip it. And once again you regret it.
-
>It’s cold. There is a special type of disappointment when you sip a supposedly hot coffee and find it to be cold.
-
>Also, it’s not strong, the grains have just been charred to the point where it loses the taste of coffee and all that is left is bitterness.
-
>And it's not black either, the leftovers of the last batch was enough to sweeten the new batch.
-
“Thanks” You figure that’s more polite than what you really have in mind.
-
>At that point her mother comes back. It looks like she went to fetch her husband without you noticing.
-
>You stand up to greet him, it's only cordial afterall.
-
“Nice to meet you sir”
-
>”Ah... Nice to meet you... make yourself at home...”
-
>His coat is equally damaged and he is very slim, in stark contrast to the mares in the room. But that’s not what catches your attention.
-
>His eyes are red and heavy with dark circles while his mouth hangs slightly open.
-
>He speaks very sluggish, like he is recovering from a blow to the head.
-
>Had you met him on the streets at night you would be duty bound to drag him to the station and give him a sobriety test.
-
>Most of all, it looks like he has nothing else to say, so it's up to you to break the ice.
-
“What's your name again sir?”
-
>”Huh?...”
-
>”Your name honey, say your name”
-
>”ah… I am Meek Bottom…”
-
>Awkward. You really wish you weren’t in front of these two right now.
-
“You have a sister, right Floor Bored? Is she home?”
-
>”I think she is playing on the yard”
-
>Floor Bored stands up, squeezes past the three of you and opens one of the doors, leading directly to the yard.
-
>Makes you realize there are no corridors in this house.
-
>You look outside and sure enough there is a filly playing there.
-
>First thing that strikes you is just how fat the poor filly is. That’s got to be child neglect.
-
>Second, you realize she is playing with dirt. There is no little bucket and shovel either, just plain dirt.
-
>Which is made even weirder when you notice two little dogs staring at you looking ready to play at a moment notice
-
>”Well Plug come say hi to my marefriend”
-
>Floor Bored calling you her marefriend makes you recoil in physical pain.
-
>The filly comes closer to the two of you, she is sticking close to Floor Bored.
-
>Up close you can see her fizzy mane and slight crooked eyes.
-
“Hey champ, I’m Rainbow Dash”
-
>”Hi”
-
>She looks shy. Probably from all the bullying at school for being so goddamn fat.
-
>”Let’s go back Rainbow Dash”
-
“Yeah… Lets.”
-
>You give the filly a pat on the head before she bolts back to her… dirt.
-
>You are back at the table, Meek Bottom is nowhere in sight, it’s just you, Floor Bored and Cold Lunch.
-
>You are in that same tight position with Floor Bored, but this time her front hoof is resting suspiciously close to you.
-
>You sigh, and hold her hoof. At least this will give you some semblance of control.
-
>Looking at her you force a smile, all the while she is beaming.
-
“So Ms Cold Lunch…”
-
>”Don’t call me Ms”
-
>Is she for real?
-
“So, Cold Lunch, I take it you are a farmer?”
-
>”That’s right, me and my husband help with the seasonal harvest. He carries everypony to the field in your carriage and then we harvest. Good work, honest work. I keep telling Floor Bored to come work with us but she doesn’t want to.”
-
“Haha… Yes… honest work… Imma right?”
-
>So she is a seasonal harvest worker. You know the type, Applejack used to hire some every zap apple season until the day she invested in a machine.
-
>They have no employment bond to the landlord, wage is plain slavery, no ensurance, no safety equipament, no access to decent food in the middle of a field, no retirement and as the name suggests work is seasonal.
-
>It’s also excruciating labor and excessively menial.
-
>Not to say that it's quickly becoming obsolete by the advance of technology.
-
>The only reason anypony would work a seasonal harvest is if they are absolutely incapable of performing anywhere else.
-
>So you come to a conclusion: she is either intelectually retarded, iliterate or most likely both.
-
>You are feeling tired already. All of this baggage in one simple question.
-
>Looks like Floor Bored started a discussion with her mother while you zoned out
-
>”I don’t want to end up like you mom! I want something better for my life!”
-
>You would chuckle if you were not catatonic. Do you really? You are not acting the part girl.
-
>Your eyes meet, and she stops arguing, blushing ever so slightly.
-
>You let go of her hoof to serve yourself some more cold coffee
-
>”My dear Rainbow Dash is a personal trainer.“
-
>No you are not. What is she talking about?
-
“She works in a very good gym called the Wonderful Colt”
-
>Ah yes, now you remember. You lied to her, not wanting to share any information that would allow her to track you.
-
>And right now you are really happy you did that.
-
“It’s a cool gig not gonna lie. I get to workout for free too”
-
>Conversation goes to better, more inoffensive topics.
-
>At some point Floor Bored grabbed your hoof again.
-
>There was no talk about marriage and kids, thankfully.
-
>Cold Lunch eventually leaves to the yard, bringing her ale with her.
-
>You keep talking to Floor Bored, until the suffocating stench of nicotine profanes your lungs
-
>It’s impossible to hide your discomfort, you are moving your head around like a drowning pony looking for air.
-
>”What’s the matter Dash?”
-
“There is somepony smoking”
-
>She clicks her tongue
-
>”Tsk. It’s my mom”
-
>Floor Bored stands up and closes the door to the yard.
-
>”Come, let's go to my room, the smoke doesn't reach there.”
-
>You follow her, desperate for fresh air.
-
>Her room is connected to the living room, again with no corridor.
-
>”I cleaned up my room yesterday, took me the whole day!”
-
>Looking around you see a small room, the queen size bed takes up most of the space, there is a falling apart wardrobe missing some drawers and a desk.
-
>The desk is filled with piles upon piles of scrolls with only a small spot for her to sit and write. But true to her word there doesn't seem to be any dust.
-
>There are two more objects of interest in the room. One being her chair.
-
>It’s a plain, hard wood chair with no stuffing. There are all sorts of iron wires and nails keeping it from falling apart, probably from both the owner’s weight and the item’s old age.
-
>Floor Bored is sitting on her chair already and that's when you connect the dots.
-
>She got her thigh scars from sitting on that thing all day, every day, for years.
-
>And the other object is hidden behind the scrolls, just at hoofs length of her writing spot.
-
>It’s a very modern looking instant messenger, not unlike the one you have at camp.
-
>Such a device is definitely too expensive compared to everything else in the house.
-
>”I’m sorry, is it still too messy?”
-
>Floor Bored looks defeated, you took too long to say anything. Again.
-
“No, it’s fine. Really. I was just checking your messenger, it's pretty sick”
-
>”Do you like it? I use it to talk to my penpals. We share stories and we talk and we even meet sometimes”
-
>So that's what she does all day? Writes back and forth to her penpals? It’s no wonder she doesn’t have her cutie mark.
-
>Looks like she borrowed one of the chairs from the kitchen, so you just sit next to her.
-
“Ok, show me. What do you guys talk about so much?”
-
>”I have a few good ones! Let me just grab it. Oh by the way, would you like a mint?”
-
“Sure”
-
>She goes though her pile of scrolls and pulls one out. But it’s not one scroll only, there are others connected to it by a thick linen thread, like a chain.
-
>”This thread is only for green stories”
-
“What’s that?”
-
>”It’s a story you write with green ink in the first pony perspective”
-
>You look at the scroll she is holding, and sure enough the text was written in green ink
-
>The two of you take turns reading the stories.
-
>There was one about a guy tripping on acid, a lot of stories about tards shitting themselves, a few more about colts being awkward where spaghetti of all things somehow gets everywhere and makes a mess.
-
>It was all very crude, dark, absurd, confusing and absolutely hilarious.
-
>It’s your turn to read and you are losing your shit.
-
>You can only get a few words out at a time before you have to stop and wheeze
-
>You are both in that vicious cycle where you are laughing because the other pony is laughing and it just feeds on itself.
-
>You put the scroll aside without finishing the story. Tears are rolling down your cheeks and you are hysterical. By now your only task is not to suffocate.
-
>You are both leaning on each other for support and just laughing out loud. Without realizing it, the two of you completely broke the touch barrier.
-
>Congratulations.
-
>The laughter eventually dies down.
-
“That was great Floor. I never knew these things existed”
-
>”I’m so relieved you like it. I was afraid you would think I’m a freak or something”
-
“No, no way. You are cool.”
-
>She blushes hard at the compliment, would be cute were she not hideous.
-
>Besides, you do think she looks like a freak. Which reminds you.
-
“Hey, you don’t smoke, do you?”
-
>”No. Never did, never will”
-
“Awesome. I can’t stand cigarettes”
-
>But you don't believe her, so you stare at her mouth, trying to see if she has yellow teeth
-
>You do notice some tartar.
-
>You try not to judge, there was a time in your life where you didn't have a wonderbolt dental plan and your teeth had tartar just like hers.
-
>In fact, aside from Rarity, all your friends walked around with dirty teeth until Twilight’s more than privileged position neted you all some dental care.
-
>”Do you want to kiss me, Rainbow Dash?”
-
>No you don't. What gave her the impression?
-
>”I can see you staring at me, you know.”
-
>Shit.
-
>Yeah you can see why staring at a her mouth you lead her astray
-
>You gulp, blood pressure on the rise.
-
>”I never kissed before, you know?”
-
“What? But you said that you already had sex”
-
>”I did, but they didn’t even touch me. They just used my holes and left me”
-
>Holes? Plural?
-
“That sucks”
-
>”Yeah, I know”
-
>She is leaning closer. You are too.
-
>Maybe a little peck won’t hurt.
-
>You are not as disgusted by her anymore, she might look like an ogre, and sound like an ogre, but at least she is a cool chick.
-
>Besides you were both sucking on a strong mint candy earlier…
-
>...She planned this.
-
>Her body language is now fully screaming “kiss me”
-
>God damn it, she is ugly.
-
>You have your hooves on her thighs supporting your upper body, that is getting ever so close to hers.
-
>You are way past her personal space.
-
>Your head is inches away from hers.
-
>And your lips touch.
-
>It feels amazing, there is electricity going through your body.
-
>You don't want to stop
-
>You part your lips, you are not satisfied by touching, you want to squeeze her lips with your own.
-
>You do it to her bottom lip, then her upper lip and back to her bottom lip. She starts doing the same.
-
>It’s not long until tongues get involved.
-
>You only touch the tips at first, but it feels so good you can't resist the urge to go deeper. It’s a weird, uncoordinated dance but feeling her is pure ecstasy no matter how twisted or out of place the tongues are.
-
>You are now hugging her neck, you are still sitting but your whole upper body is resting against her, you two are no longer breaking the kiss to breathe just doing it with your mouths open
-
>And you kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss.
-
>Your mind is completely blank, all you can do is continue to suck on her tongue. You have been doing this for way more than a while, and would do it the whole night had not been for a knock on the door.
-
>”Floor, Rainbow Dash, dinner is ready.”
-
>You finally break the kiss, startled
-
“It’s already dinner time? How long have we…”
-
>”More than an hour it seems.”
-
>That was no exaggeration.
-
>Back to your senses you look down at yourself.
-
>It's a waterfall down there. And that's no exaggeration either.
-
>The pool of your fluids is big and more than noticeable, there is a huge dark shade on both your coat and in the chair and it is dripping off the chair into the floor.
-
>You cover your shame, but it’s impossible to cover the mess.
-
>”Did you… cum?”
-
“No… It’s just that… its been a while that's all”
-
>Yeah, a while indeed. 30 years to be exact.
-
>”It’s alright if you came, it happens you know?”
-
>It sure looks like you did, but you know you didn’t. Although you have never seen your body do that before.
-
“I didn’t cum. Look, can you please go grab my towel? It’s in my bag.”
-
>”Sure, wait here.”
-
>When Floor Bored gets up you glance at her vagina. It’s definitely excited but it’s not dripping.
-
>Just makes you feel more awkward.
-
>Floor Bored is back with your bag, you grab your towel and get to clean your mess.
-
>You even dry the floor with your towel, it feels like the right thing to do.
-
>Finally dry you stand up, but not quite ready to leave yet.
-
“Just give me a second to relax ok?”
-
>You can’t go out with your blossoming flower.
-
>”Yes I understand.”
-
>The two of you are just standing in front of each other since there isn't much space to work with.
-
>Floor Bored is the one that takes initiative this time, and she gives you a caring front hug.
-
>She is heavy, but to be honest, it’s not so bad. At least now you won’t have to avert your eyes.
-
Part 3
-
-
>By the time the two of you get to the kitchen the rest of the family is already eating.
-
>Looks like Meek Bottom is back from wherever he was, and he is sitting on the edge of the table like the house’s father should.
-
>Good, you will take any semblance of normalcy in this household.
-
>Floor Bored is rubbing a plate with a dish towel, probably just making it dirtier.
-
>She hoofs the plate to you but you refuse.
-
“I gotta wash my hoofs first, where is the bathroom?”
-
>”Right here!”
-
>She opens the door next to the yard door.
-
>...
-
>...The bathroom is connected to the kitchen…
-
>It’s so close to the table that she has to move a chair out of the way to fully open the door.
-
>You get inside and just like everything in this house there is a lot to take in.
-
>First of all there is no lid on the toilet so peeing here won’t be any fun.
-
>And it looks like they are the type of ponies who don’t flush their toilet paper, instead throwing it in a little trash can next to the toilet.
-
>And of course there is no lid to this trash can. And of course they didn’t bother to empty the trash can this week. And of course you can see shit stained toilet paper in there. Elementary.
-
>There is also no stall in the shower, and judging by the makeshift, exposed tubulation they don’t have hot water either.
-
>The shower drain is full of hair, and inside the space where a pony is supposed to shower there is a broomstick with a dirty plastic bottle attached to one end. You can only guess this is some sort of tool to unclog the toilet.
-
>Above the sink there is a half of a plastic container hanging on the wall by iron wires. This is where they keep their toothbrushes and mane brushes.
-
>The mane brushes, by the way, are full of hair on what is now a “too late to try to clean brush”. The hairs stuck on the brushes are long and as such, are touching the toothbrushes.
-
>And that’s when you see it.
-
>There is a God forsaken live cockroach on the shower’s floor.
-
>You are no fool, you know very well that if there is a cockroach out this early in the evening that means there are at least a hundred billion more hiding inside the walls.
-
>And due to the proximity to the kitchen they are all probably feeding on the leftovers.
-
>All in all, disgusting.
-
>That was the first time in your life you regret washing your hooves before dinner.
-
>You exit the bathroom and Floor Bored gets inside to wash her own hooves.
-
>Although she is not fooling you, you know for sure she doesn't normally do it.
-
>Now it’s time to face the food.
-
>Looking at the oven you see what's on the menu.
-
>White rice, buttered corn, potatoes and a couple of different deep fried vegetables.
-
>This is all hyper caloric.
-
>You serve a small little bit of everything and choose a single small piece of the fried vegetables.
-
>You sit on the table to eat, unfortunately Floor Bored isn't as aware of table hierarchy as you are so the chair that is left is the one closer to her father and in front of her mother.
-
>Her mother, who in turn, is not very happy about your plate.
-
>”Is that all you gonna to eat?”
-
“Yes, thank you Cold Lunch but I’m on a very strict diet”
-
>Very much unlike you. Is what you would have said were you any younger.
-
>”You really gonna do this slight to me?”
-
>She is getting on your nerves. What slight?
-
“I’m afraid so” You are using the same tone you use to address “unhappy with military presence” civilians.
-
>Scanning the table you notice she is having dinner with ale.
-
>Explains her attitude but just makes you angrier.
-
>Does this freaking creature drink all day?
-
>Thankfully Floor Bored intervenes.
-
>”She is fit mom, she can’t eat the same crap we eat”
-
>Interesting, she is aware this is crap.
-
>”I told you to make boiled vegetables instead but you are so fucking stubborn!”
-
>Also interesting, that's very well thought of her.
-
>”Boiled don’t taste as good!”
-
>You are noticing their plates now. They all served so much food it’s revolting.
-
>Rarity was the one who used to complain about that.
-
>”Pinkie! Darling! If you are hungry just divide your portions in multiple servings! That mountain of food is not very ladylike!”
-
>You always thought Rarity was being overly dramatic, but now…
-
>You finally understand your friend.
-
>You take a bite off the food.
-
>It is as salty as that coffee was sweet.
-
“Floor, can I have some water please?”
-
>”Yes, of course!”
-
>Please don't be tap water, please don't be tap water, please don't be tap water…
-
>You watch her getting some water out of a clay filter on top of the sink. You left out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
-
“Thank you”
-
>You start to slowly work on your food, counting your chews and counting the time between bites. You know very well the cravings that follow hyper caloric foods and you are not about to undo years so disciplined alimentation.
-
> 21… 22… 23…
-
>Anyway, what is that loathsome sound breaking your concentration?
-
> 24… 25… 26…
-
>You look up, and little to your surprise but much to your disgust, mother and filly are eating with their hoofs.
-
> 27… 28… 29…
-
>They got their utensils right next to them too, but they are just hoofing it down.
-
>You swallow. Next bite is at fifteen. 1… 2… 3…
-
>The fried vegetable is proving to be particularly hard to swallow, the grease is too much.
-
>Whenever you chew on the thing it lets out oil and grease inside or mouth and your instinct is to just spill it out.
-
>You are going to need another glass of water.
-
“Floor, can I have some more water?”
-
>”Of course! As much as you would like”
-
>In that case just bring the filter to the table, please.
-
>You are a quarter away from freedom, Floor Bored is already done with her food.
-
>You can tell because she is stroking your head with her hooves.
-
>She is both holding your head with both hooves and poking it.
-
>You do another round of chewing. Maybe she will stop.
-
>She doesn’t.
-
>You have no choice but to address it.
-
“What are you doing?” You are as calm as ever, counting numbers is relaxing after all.
-
>”Ah… Sorry… I just wanted to feel your mane. It’s so pretty and colorful”
-
“Just… Just wait until I’m finished, ok?”
-
>”Ok. Sorry.”
-
“It’s all good”
-
>You finally swallow the last bite, looks like everypony else is finished too.
-
“Thanks for dinner Cold Lunch”
-
>”I wish you had eat more”
-
>How will she ever recover?
-
>Normally you would wash your own plate, or play a game of chance to either wash everything or nothing at all.
-
>But it’s hard to work with a sink full of dirty dishes, even harder still when the dishes are not your own.
-
>You notice Floor Bored isn’t washing her dish either, so you just put your plate on top of hers.
-
>Well Plug and Cold Lunch are off to the yard, Cold Lunch will probably smoke and drink some more, and Meek Bottom is missing yet again, slipped away unnoticed and unannounced.
-
“Hey Floor, do you mind if I take a shower?”
-
>”Y-you will shower here?” She is beaming again “Does that mean you are going to spend the night?”
-
“Yeah, it’s what we agreed on, right? Is there a problem?”
-
>”No, no problem at all. Please go head”
-
>There is a problem actually, you are just too inexperienced to tell.
-
>You grab your tainted towel and your shower kit, you brought your own liquid soap and your own toothpaste. Now more than ever you are glad you did.
-
>You smell nicotine on your way to the bathroom. You were right, she is smoking again.
-
>Inside the bathroom the first thing you do is scan the perimeter for that cockroach.
-
>Looks like it is gone.
-
>Next you put that cursed broomstick away from you.
-
>As you turn on the water the whole exposed pipe shakes, you worry it’s going to fall apart for a second. But it doesn’t.
-
“At least the pressure is fine”
-
>You figure the puzzle out while you shower.
-
>Both wife and husband have probably been chain smoking for the past thousand years or so, leaving their taste buds damaged beyond repair. So they compensate with exaggerated salt and sugar.
-
>The kids, and yourself of course, are left to pay for the sins of the parents.
-
>But that’s enough thinking for one day, you are exhausted. So you just close your eyes.
-
>And let the ice cold water wash away this long, long day.
-
-
>Leaving the shower you see Meek Bottom doing the dishes. It’s a relief knowing the sink won’t sleep dirty, making the life of the cockroaches just a little bit harder...
-
>Maybe the worst of this date is already behind you?
-
“Good night Mr Meek Bottom”
-
>”Ah… Good night… to you…” He doesn't look away from his dishes.
-
>Because you can still smell Cold Lunch smoking in the yard, you just say the next bit from where you are standing, not daring to approach the dragon’s lair.
-
“Good night Cold Lunch” The exhaustion in your voice is palpable.
-
>There is now a creature grunting in the yard, but you pay it no mind. You can’t stand another second inside the suffocating cloud of nicotine.
-
>So you seek refuge inside Floor Bored’s room. It’s a relief to close her room’s door and separate yourself from the rest of the house.
-
>Looks like she is busy writing something, so you just help yourself to her bed. Lo and behold, it's a comfy one with plenty of pillows. Luck is really turning around.
-
>”H-hey! Dash! I-I’m just finishing this one letter to this… to my friend!” Y-you don’t mind right?”
-
>She sounds… flustered?
-
“Not at all, go ahead.”
-
>She could be writing a letter or she could be choking… Right now it would be all the same to you.
-
>You watch Floor Bored write from behind her back, the charcoal she is using has dwindled to almost nothing so her grasp on it is awkward and she twists in funny angles to try and use the last bits of coal she's got. Fascinating.
-
>Next you get to watch her instant messenger in action. The thing charges at the speed of light and zaps the message with barely any sound. Definitely an expensive model.
-
>”Haha… All done!... Ha… Haha…”
-
>What’s so funny you stupid bitch?
-
>”I’m just… just going to… just going to take my shower now… ok?”
-
>Is she asking for permission? Just stop talking and go.
-
“Yeah, sure. Take your time.”
-
>Floor Bored is acting weird. She had a pretty confident deminior the whole day but now she sounds distant, defeated.
-
>You would ask what is wrong.
-
>If only you cared.
-
>She leaves you alone, now with the room for yourself you can put your thoughts in order.
-
>You were not prepared for today.
-
>Everything has been just overwhelming. Floor Bored herself, her parents and this house. It’s all too much.
-
>You think about ditching her. You have all your belongings with you and the gate is probably still unlocked. Even if it wasn't you can get off through the yard.
-
“Nah… It’s over anyway… We are just going to cuddle and sleep now, that’s all.”
-
>If only you knew why ponies call sex “sleeping together”.
-
>You decide to wait until Floor Bored returns, trying to clear your mind in a vain attempt to recover the sanity you lost today.
-
>And before long there she is, back from her shower.
-
>She is just standing in front of the bed, looking at you like you were the hideous ogre. Maybe that’s her idea of vengeance.
-
>The two of you have been staring at each other for a while. You wonder how long she will keep this up.
-
>You are too mentally exhausted to break the silence so that burden is hers.
-
>And she finally speaks up.
-
>”You are still here.”
-
“Sure am”
-
>”I… I was afraid you would leave…”
-
>She can’t keep eye contact anymore.
-
>”I was afraid you were going to leave and cut contact…”
-
>You can feel the pain in her voice
-
>”But you are still here… Does that mean… you like me a little bit?”
-
>Shit… This is… real.
-
>There is a real mare with real feelings in front of you.
-
>You feel awful for belitering her in your head.
-
>You sit on the edge of the bed
-
>She is looking at you like you are about to give her a scolding, her face recoiling in anticipation.
-
“Yeah I like you a little bit. It was fun reading with you”
-
>You watch as her face goes from fear to confusion and finally rests on surprise.
-
“And anypony who is this much of a Daring Do nerd is cool in my book”
-
>You boop her nose. She is finally smiling.
-
>You are not lying either, so far as you can tell she is a cool geek.
-
>”H-hey, Rainbow Dash? You don’t have to sleep with me, you can go home if you would like.”
-
“No way. Now I really feel like cuddling with you. C’mon hop on the bed already”
-
>Floor Bored is red like a chilly pepper. What’s the big deal? You ate each other's face an hour or two ago, cuddling should be natural.
-
>This is going to be a friendly cuddle and come the morrow you will tell her the truth, she deserves to know.
-
>What could possibly go wrong?
-
>You two are now laying down like a legit couple, hooves interlocked and everything.
-
>”Rainbow?”
-
“Yeah?”
-
>”Can I kiss you good night?”
-
“Sure”
-
>And that was the last rational thing you said for a while.
-
>When her lips touched yours, a demon was unleashed from within.
-
>Your hooves are gripping her body and you are pressing your whole self against her.
-
>You force your tongue inside her mouth and start kissing her with the same intensity as before.
-
>Except this time your eyes are wide open and you are grinding against her.
-
>Floor Bored looks startled, but you don’t care. You have no shame right now, no reservations.
-
>You get on top of her, still in full body contact, she is more than bulky enough to sustain your weight and you just keep on sucking on her mouth like a starved animal.
-
>Doesn’t take a minute before Floor Bored surrenders to your madness, and her previously stiff body starts moving along yours.
-
>After a while of this intense exchange she is trying to break the kiss.
-
>You don’t let her, you don’t want to stop. You are forcing your mouth against her.
-
>She shoves your head away with her Earth Pony strength, and before you can go back to her mouth she is sucking on your neck.
-
>This feeling is otherworldly. She is sucking and licking your neck while you make sure she covers the whole area.
-
>You realize you are just rubbing yourself against her fat belly. You don’t really mind since it feels good either way but that’s probably weird for her.
-
>So you move her adipose layer out of the way and go full contact. Floor’s appreciative moaning is making you go more and more berserk.
-
>By now you are just slamming your hips against her in a frenzy.
-
>Floor Bored atrophied body becomes evident as she can’t keep up with you anymore, she is just limp on the bed while you go to town with her body.
-
>This goes on for what feels like hours on end.
-
>As the stupor clears from your mind it becomes clear neither of you are going to cum if you keep this up.
-
>You are not about to leave her hanging after molesting her like this, so you start working on her with your hoof.
-
>You never done that to somepony else but you have had enough practice on your own to know your way around.
-
>And you are not being gentle about it either.
-
>It’s a weird feeling doing this to somepony else, makes you excited like a filly doing something that will get her grounded.
-
>At one point her moanings become like pleadings and she shoves your hoof away.
-
>”Please stop… No more… I can’t anymore…”
-
>Your hoof is soaked, she came hard but you didn’t notice when.
-
>Floor Bored burrows her face on your neck, she is hugging you for dear life.
-
>You can feel the wet of her tears and her body convulsing ever so lightly
-
>”Oh my God Dash… oh my God… oh my God…”
-
>She breaks the hug and starts rubbing her cheeks against yours. One side, then the other and back to the first, with your lips brushing together when she transitions.
-
>With your eyes closed, this actually feels amazing.
-
>You didn’t cum yourself, but you are satisfied. This has been going on for so long that the urge to climax is gone.
-
>You lay on the bed to sleep, extending an inviting hoof for Floor Bored to come and sleep next to you.
-
>Floor Bored however, isn’t satisfied.
-
>”Can I lick you Dash?”
-
“You don’t have to, lets just sleep”
-
>”No, please! I want to lick you! Please!”
-
>You don’t know it yet but this mare has an unhealthy obsession with putting things in her mouth.
-
>She positions herself between your legs, and you open up to her.
-
>She is not shy about it, not one bit. She shoves her whole muzzle inside you like in those dirty magazines.
-
>Where did she learn this?
-
>Either way, it doesn’t feel particularly good, it’s not so different from a hoof.
-
>Maybe if she would use her tongue more instead of going deep for the sake of going deep it would be better.
-
>And she doesn’t seem to tire, this has been going on for a while already.
-
>Maybe she is trying to make you orgasm? How thoughtful.
-
>Well, Floor Bored is not about to succeed with her technique so you just help yourself. You are rubbing yourself while she is muzzle deep inside your netherlands.
-
“Floor… I’m about to do it.”
-
>You warm her once.
-
“I’m going to cum Floor”
-
>You warm her twice, she is undeterred.
-
>You can’t hold it any longer, you open the flood gates.
-
>You are cumming hard, you can't stop your body from convulsing, all of that pent up energy is being set free at once.
-
>You can feel Floor Bored’s tongue going all around your marehood, she is shawolling everything.
-
>It grosses you out a bit.
-
>You settle down, there is no magical afterglow. This wasn’t that much different from masturbation.
-
>Floor Bored is still licking you, doesn’t seem like she intends to stop anytime soon.
-
>You raise your upper body and shove her head away gently, hoping she will catch the hint.
-
>Thankfully she does, and she is now sitting too.
-
>Crack
-
>Turns out, however, that this is too much weight in a single point, and one of the corners of the bed breaks, the previously flat mattress is now a ramp.
-
“Holy shit”
-
>You are just staring at her, while she stares down at the broken bed.
-
>Great. Now what?
-
“Sorry”
-
>”I don’t think it was you.”
-
>You don’t either.
-
>”I have an idea, hold on.”
-
>She leaves the room and you can hear her rummaging through the rubble in the garage.
-
>She comes back with a pile of tools, wood studs and old notebooks and she makes a pillar under the bed to sustain the broken corner.
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>”My dad can fix it later.”
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“Well played, I was worried for a second.”
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>Floor Bored is clearly embarrassed she broke the bed, so it’s up to you to seal the night.
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“Let’s get some sleep, I am tired. If we don’t move around it won’t break again.”
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>You lay on the bed, again with an inviting hoof calling her to cuddle next to you.
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>This time she accepts your embrace, but before lying down she is trying to kiss you.
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>You don’t feel like kissing her at all, she was gargling on your cum mere moments ago.
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>Thinking quickly you just give her a playful peck on the lips, long enough not to raise suspicions but not long enough to gross you out too much.
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>That was the first restrained kiss you gave her.
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“Good night Floor”
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>”Good night Dash”
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>You wake up in the middle of the night. Your eyes are half open and your vision is blurry.
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>You are confused, you don’t recognize this place.
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>And… There is something fiddling with your vagina?
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>You quickly reach your hoof down to protect yourself and you slap something away.
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>That makes a pony next to you jump and let out a gasp
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>Of course you look. What you see is an ugly cream mare with a messy mane who looks like she just saw her dog being run over.
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>”S-sorry”
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>Memories are returning now. This is Floor Bored, your date.
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>Was she touching you?
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“Dude what the fuck”
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>”I’m sorry! I was just curious and you were so wet I thought it was alright.”
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>The room is spinning.
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>You swipe the sweat from your forehead, it's cold as ice.
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>It takes a lot of effort to sit on the bed because your hooves are weak and tingling.
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>Keeping your head low your breath becomes a panting.
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>”Dash? What’s wrong?”
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“I don’t feel so good.”
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>Floor Bored has her hoof on your forehead.
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>”You don’t have a fever. Is your pressure down? I’ll get you a glass of salt water”
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“No!” You say grabbing her before she can stand up.
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>Last thing you need right now is more salt.
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>This brief moment of action helps to clear the confusion away.
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>Now with your head in the game the first thing you do is to control your breathing.
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>Long, controlled breaths through the nose.
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>Next you use your hoof to feel the artery in your neck.
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“Floor, help me out ok? I need you to count to ten”
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>Floor Bored does as she is told without hesitation.
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>”nine… ten.”
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“My pressure is fine” You say after a quick mental calculation
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>”Then what’s wrong? What are you feeling?”
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>That’s actually a good idea, maybe you can figure out what’s going on if you lay down the symptoms on the table.
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>You tell her all you felt so far, and you notice a new one.
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“There is a fire in my stomach”
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>It’s all too clear now. The “””food””” you ate is back to haunt you.
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>”Fire? You mean like nausea? Do you need to puke?”
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“No, by now the food is all digested.”
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>”... And… It’s making you sick… right?”
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“Yes, I would think so.”
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>She is proving to be quite a smart pony afterall.
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>”I’m sorry Dash”
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“It’s not your fault”
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>”But it is my fault! I should have had just boiled something myself instead of depending on my mom”
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>Seeing her taking responsibility is actually quite impressive, that is one of the hardest things to teach a cadet
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>You wonder, how much more can you push her?
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“Well, why didn’t you?”
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>”I got lazy, like always.”
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“Lazy on a date?”
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>”I didn’t really realize it was a serious date until I saw you were still here after I showered”
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>To be fair, you didn't either.
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>That feeling is back, the feeling that this is real, that the one you were so quick to call an ogre is in fact a pony.
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>And here you are, playing with her feelings just to selfishly experience the sins of the flesh.
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“Well, in that case you better take responsibility”
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>You make her lay down on her fat belly and proceed to use her body as a pillow
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“Just don’t touch me while I’m sleeping, ok?”
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>”Ok”
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>You should be angrier about that. But deep down, you feel like you gave her this liberty after how you acted in bed.
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>If she isn’t mad you basically molested her body then you won’t be mad she overreached your intimacy.
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>She is fine with being a pillow by the way, so much so that she starts to gently massage your body with her muzzle
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>This is really helping to ease the bad feelings.
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>You are not going to get any sleep anytime soon, not when your body feels like it’s going to expire.
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>So you two just chat away the night. At first you talk about food, you explain to her what you know about diets.
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>And then chat goes to other inoffensive topics.
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>Even after having sex with her you can’t bring up anything more meaningful to talk about.
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>And there are a lot of things you want to ask. What is keeping her from getting a job? Why does she think she never got her cutie mark? Why won’t she just sit on a pillow so the chair doesn't scar her legs? Doesn’t she want to leave and live on her own? Does she really not want any kids?
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>But you don’t have the intimacy yet, the sex was pure lust and it didn’t bring the two of you any closer.
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>Or at least it didn’t bring you closer to her. Who knows how she is feeling?
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>Maybe this much you could ask, after all it is pertinent to recent events.
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“Hey, Floor?”
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>Unfortunately for you, she is fast asleep.
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>You wake up when the light of morning touches your face
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>The malaise from last night has subsided.
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>You are also no longer using Floor Bored as a pillow as both of you swifted on the bed during the night.
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>Floor Bored is still asleep, snoring and everything.
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“Of course she snores.”
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>You take this opportunity to gaze on her without reservations, taking in the fine details of her appearance.
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>There is no way around it, she is a fat ugly mare through and through.
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>Your heart is divided, part of you wants to lay down next to her and enjoy a hug while the other part wants to go home never to return
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>You start to think on what staying would entail.
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>The right course of action is made clear, you better leave before the rest of the family wakes up.
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>You start to gently rub Floor Bored’s face and softly call her name.
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>She wakes up and she is quick to recognize you. The smile on her face is genuine like Pinkie’s and contagious, you can’t help but to smile back.
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>Without a word she is hugging you with her cheek touching yours.
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>This should melt anypony’s heart, but you are not used to her face yet.
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>But it doesn’t stop you from enjoying the hug. It’s such a wonderful sensation going coat to coat with somepony.
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>Floor Bored slides her face across yours and goes for a kiss.
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>You try to restrain yourself because you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, but it’s impossible to hold back for long.
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>After a long section of making out, you are the one who breaks the kiss.
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“Floor, it’s time for me to go home”
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>Sadness immediately takes over her face, and she let go of you
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>You use this opportunity to get out of bed, Floor Bored just stays down, facing the spot you were just now.
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>You pack your stuff back inside your sports bag, including your scarf and cap.
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>You saddle your bag around your body, ready to leave.
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>”Are we going to have a second date?”
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“I’ll… I’ll think about it, ok?”
-
>You are lying, you decided against a second date before even meeting her.
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>Floor Bored just starts to cry on the spot.
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>Fucking shit.
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“I didn’t say no! I said I’ll think about it”
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>”I’m not an idiot Dash… I know what this really means.”
-
>There is no aggression in her voice, only sadness.
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>You stand there, you want to say something.
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>But what can you say? She is right, you meant to say no.
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>If anything, you are the idiot. Who were you trying to fool with an answer like that?
-
>”Just go… The gate is unlocked.”
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>So you go. You leave her there crying by herself and you finally leave this house after what felt like an eternity.
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>Your heart is a thousand times heavier than when you first arrived.
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>It’s still early in the morning, you can still feel the cold chill of dawn on your fur.
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>And you start trotting back home.
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>Then your trotting becomes hovering, then a flight, then you are at cruising speed and finally you are just charging back home, any faster you would make a sonic rainboom.
-
>You did a 20 minutes trip in only 5 minutes.
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>Your house is just as you left it, you leave your bag at the door and go straight to your shower.
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>It’s a relief entering a respectable bathroom, there are no dark rituals to perform, you can go straight under the water.
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>You make it as hot as you can withstand, and you just sit on the shower’s floor and let the water fall over your head.
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>You are feeling like you committed a crime.
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>The weight of all your choices is finally settling in.
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>You had your first kiss and your first time out of lust, and you hurt an innocent mare while you were at it.
-
>And to a lesser degree experiencing her, her house and family also left you more than a little shook.
-
“What a mess”
-
>Only time will tell if this was worth it or not. You accomplished your goal after all. After all these years you finally experienced some romance.
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>Even if it was twisted and corrupted.
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>Maybe now you will have the fortitude of mind to ask a stallion out to try and start something real…
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>Real…
-
“This was definitely real.”
-
-
[end of part one]
by DizzyIak