Happy New Tears


                                            Synopsis: Anon's New Year's Resolution is to make Fluttershy cry whenever she tries to hit on him.


                                            >Day Plus One in Equestria.

                                            >You trot up through Anonymous's yard and stand in front of his front door.

                                            >Because you are Fluttershy; Element of Harmony; Caretaker of Animals.

                                            >Lover of Anonymous.

                                            >Unfortunately, you're only a 'lover' in the sense that you love him very much, but he's yet to reciprocate your feelings.

                                            >But that changes today!

                                            >New Year, new you, and that means new guesses for that golden kink that will sweep him off his cute feet and into your bed.

                                            >Today's lucky guess is something you read about in one of Rarity's comic books that you…borrowed from her.

                                            >She doesn't know that you borrowed it, but she'll get it back later.

                                            >Apparently, there's a facial expression that—well, *expresses* complete and utter sexual arousal towards the one you love.

                                            >And that's exactly what you need to show Anonymous you mean business.

                                            >And if it also happens to be his fetish, that'll be like…feeding two birds with one hoofful of feed!

                                            >Anyway, it's called an "ahegao."

                                            >You flex your facial muscles, ready to practice it one last time before the real deal.

                                            >Mouth open, tongue lolled out, and eyes rolled out to the back of your head.

                                            >Hold that pose for five seconds and…there, done.

                                            >You're confident that you can call yourself an "ahegao" master now, after all the practising you've been doing today.

                                            >The concerned looks that Angel gave you while you were "ahegao"ing in your house earlier did little to boost your confidence, but you pulled through anyway.

                                            >Not that you hold it against Angel; he doesn't know what it's like to fall so deeply in love with somehuman that you just…ah~

                                            >Easy there, Fluttershy; don't finish yourself off before you can even enter his house.

                                            >That'll cum—come later.

                                            >Okay! Time to get down to business.

                                            >And then maybe you can get down on him, unf.

                                            >You give the front door three curt knocks, letting him know that you're here and ready.

                                            >And you patiently wait.

                                            >For a minute.

                                            >For a few minutes.

                                            >For several minutes.

                                            >Hm.

                                            >Maybe he didn't hear you?

                                            >Three more knocks—with feeling, this time.

                                            >A few more minutes pass.

                                            >You bring out your outdoor voice—which is every other pony's indoor voice, but it gets the job done well enough.

                                            "Anooon? Are you in there?"

                                            >No response.

                                            >But you know he's in there somewhere; he's off work today and you saw his silhouette on the other side of the window an hour ago.

                                            >You saw it because you were staking out his house at the time.

                                            >It gave you ample opportunity to practise your "ahegao," too.

                                            >Wait a minute, the window!

                                            >Glancing to your right, you see that one of his windows is slightly open.

                                            >Of course! It all makes sense now! He *wants* you to come in this way!

                                            >Well then, you're not one to leave your beloved waiting, so you hover up to the window and pry it open the rest of the way.

                                            >It takes a bit of hoofwork, since there's a window limiter attached that hinders your progress, but no chain can stand in the way of true love.


                                            >After opening the window, you slip inside the house, quickly recognising that you're in the living room.

                                            >No sign of Anonymous.

                                            >Plenty sign of his couch.

                                            >His wonderful, smelly couch that must have soaked up so much of his butt-sweat, mmph~

                                            >Maybe you can take a quick detour on your search for Anonymous to…appreciate the finer things in life.

                                            >You trot over to the couch and plant your face on the seat, taking a good, long whiff.

                                            "O-oh yes…"

                                            >Heaven. Pony Heaven.

                                            >Human Heaven too, but you like to think you and Anonymous will head to the same afterlife together when your times come.

                                            >You're not sure how long you have spent snorting up his couch, but it doesn't matter; every moment here is pure bliss.

                                            >What *does* matter, is the sound of footsteps moving closer to your position.

                                            >The footsteps stop once they're close enough, and you hear dulcet tones grumble indistinctly.

                                            >You don't need to be Twilight Sparkle to figure out the identity of those footsteps or that voice; you groggily raise your head and look to your side.

                                            >Standing a couple metres away from you is Him.

                                            >Or his legs, at any rate; he towers above you, so you take the opportunity to slowly work your eyes up his sexy, sexy body.

                                            >Those long, muscular legs, unf.

                                            >That broad, thick upper body, double unf.

                                            >That…gas mask he's wearing.

                                            >Huh?

                                            "Anon? Why are you wearing a gas mask?"

                                            >"I'll be damned. There's still enough brain cells rolling around in there for you to notice something different about me."

                                            >His words are harsh, but you know there's a lot of love hiding behind them.

                                            "Could you take it off, please? I'd like to see your face."

                                            >His handsome face.

                                            >"No can do, Flutterbutt."

                                            >Flutterbutt? Saucy. He rarely uses that nickname with you. Is he looking at your butt under that mask? You hope so.

                                            >Can he see your tail flagging? You hope he can; maybe you should turn around and—

                                            >"BEFORE you do anything to embarrass yourself any further, I'd like to inform you of my plan."

                                            "Oh, okay. Does it involve your mask?"

                                            >"Yes. You see, I'm a man of goals, of resolutions—"

                                            "Me too! A mare of resolutions, I mean."

                                            >He silently stares at you.

                                            >You sit down on your haunches and proudly cross your forelegs.

                                            "My New Year's Resolution is to get you into my bed."

                                            >"Great. Are you done?"

                                            "Well, I've still got to go through today's guess. I've got a good feeling about—"

                                            >"Don't bother. Whatever it is, it's not my fetish."

                                            "But you haven't even seen it."

                                            >"Don't need to. Besides, don't you want to hear about my New Year's Resolution instead?"

                                            >His resolution? You suppose your guess can wait.

                                            "Okay, sure!"

                                            >Maybe it'll involve getting you into *his* bed!

                                            >"You see, it involves me, you, and our fucked-up relationship we got going on…"

                                            >You're hearing "you" and "fucked-up" in the same sentence—you like where this is going.

                                            >"For this year, I figured—hey, why not spice things up, yeah?"

                                            "Yeah?"

                                            >"So for this year: I'm gonna make you cry whenever you try to hit on me—sound good?"


                                            >You stare at him for a bit, taking in his words.

                                            "Oh."

                                            >That's certainly…a unique resolution.

                                            "Um…I guess that sounds good. Do you want me to start crying now?"

                                            >Maybe you can work it into your "ahegao."

                                            >"That won't be neccessary."

                                            "Hm?" You tilt your head.

                                            >He raises one of his glorious mare-hugging arms, and it's only now that you notice he's holding something in his hand.

                                            >It's a controller of some kind.

                                            >He presses a button on the controller, and you hear a beeping sound throughout the room while the surrounding area begins to flash red.

                                            >"Heads up, Fuckershy."

                                            >Naughty name, ominous omen.

                                            >The window shuts behind you and you hear a locking sound.

                                            >You hear a hissing sound as a thick, grey gas is released in the room from various angles.

                                            >He's gassing you! You never knew he was into this!

                                            >Looks like you have the next week's worth of guesses planned out!

                                            >As more of the gas fills the room, you gulp.

                                            "I-is this sleep gas?"

                                            >You never thought *he'd* be the proactive one here! Oh my!

                                            >You hear him exhale deeply and sexily through his mask.

                                            >"No, it's not, you fucking degenerate."

                                            >The smell is somewhat pleasant, a little bit spicy, even.

                                            >"It's tear gas. I had this all set-up before you got here."

                                            "What does it do?"

                                            >"Just give it a little bit longer…"

                                            "What do you—"

                                            >It suddenly hits you, all at once.

                                            "H-huk!"

                                            >Your throat closes up, your eyes burn like mad, and snot flows freely from your nose.

                                            >It's very hard to talk—or even breath.

                                            >"What do you think? This is just a taste of how you've made me feel over all these fucking years, you fucking yellow maniac!"

                                            >This is how he felt? If only he had accepted your advances sooner—he wouldn't have had to go through this torture!

                                            >He cackles in victory while you struggle to look up at him through your teary eyes.

                                            >Oh—teary eyes, now you get it.

                                            "Fuh…fuh-wah…"

                                            >"Hm? Oh, speak up, Flutterbutt. I can't hear you."

                                            >If he calls you that one more time your lower body is gonna start leaking too.


                                            "Fuh-feh…feh-teh…"

                                            >"Yeeesss?"

                                            "Feh-teh-shuh…"

                                            >He tilts his head.

                                            >"Oh, you're asking if tear gas is my fetish, right?"

                                            >Unable to formulate a verbal response, you weakly nod.

                                            >"Hm…"

                                            >He saunters over to you, crouching down to meet you down at eye level.

                                            >Your strained attempts at breathing quicken even more.

                                            >"You really wanna know…?"

                                            "W-wah…wahwugweh…"

                                            >You're pretty sure that's a "yes" in some long-lost dialect.

                                            >"Well…"

                                            >He reaches out one of his hands towards your head.

                                            >"Since you asked so nicely…"

                                            >Oh gosh! Oh gosh! It's really going to happen, isn't it?

                                            >You'd live your whole life like this if he would—

                                            >He flicks your forehead.

                                            >"It's not."

                                            >Darn.

                                            >He stands up and walks away, chuckling to himself.

                                            >The tear gas continues to fill the room, and with no open window to ventilate it out, its effects only intensify with time and exposure.

                                            >Your skin is burning, your eyes are forced shut, and you can't stop coughing.

                                            >You can't go on like this, especially when it's not Anonymous's fetish.

                                            >What do you do?!

                                            >…Quick, ahegao!

                                            >Okay—no, that just made the situation worse.

                                            >"What—what the FUCK are you doing?!"

                                            "A-a hay…guh…"

                                            >"You know what—never mind. You just enjoy yourself over there. I'll check back in later when you've learned your lesson."

                                            >That's not his fetish either then. Double darn.

                                            >In a moment of last-minute desperation, you manage to fly up and smash through the window you came through, propelling yourself out of the building.

                                            >"Oh for fuck's sake! Should've expected that, I guess."

                                            >After flinging yourself through the window, you land on the grass back-first.

                                            >Everything hurts.

                                            >But it still pales in comparison to the pain that comes from being rejected by your beloved Anonymous once again.

                                            >You can feel your body slowly start to recover from the ordeal.

                                            >Your throat opens up enough for you to take in the fresh air of the outside world.

                                            >You can open your eyes up the narrowest of squints, seeing a sliver of blue sky up above.

                                            >Eventually, even your heart will recover—just in time for tomorrow's guess.

                                            >You hear footsteps as Anonymous pokes his head out of the window.

                                            >"Stay the fuck away from me!"

                                            "S-see you…tomorrow…"

                                            >"Urgh!"

                                            >You hear him stomp further into his house, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

                                            >This was a pretty roundabout way of going about things.

                                            >But you now know that tear gas *and* "ahegao"'s aren't his fetish.

                                            >A smile forms on your face.

                                            >You really *did* feed two birds today!

                                            >Nice work, Fluttershy!

                                            >You've got a good feeling about this year!