>You are Twinkleshine and you are regretting moving to Manehattan.
>Nopony you know plays Bestiary Battler, the local game shop is in the attic of an incense store, and some blue goo just dripped onto your couch.
>You look up and see part of the ceiling of your apartment bulging out like a teat, a drop of goo gathering at the bottom.
>Bucking perfect.
>You fetch the mop bucket and place it under the drip.
>You look up and frown at the ceiling teat.
>It'll probably hold for a bit.
>You march out the door, determined to give your upstairs neighbor the /business/.
>It feels like stepping out into an oven, the summer sun beating down mercilessly.
>You sigh and trudge up the stairs, panting a little as you get to the top.
>Maybe you should go for a jog more often...or at all.
>You knock on the door and step back, hoping it's not another "gifted" student performing an unregistered summoning.
>The door opens with a blast of refreshingly cold air.
>"Yes?"
>You look up at the source of that pleasantly deep sound.
>It's an oddly flat-faced minotaur bull, with a coat so thin that you can see his pale skin easily.
>You swallow nervously.
"Well, sir, I think you might have a leak that's dripping into my apartment."
>He raises his eyebrows.
>"Oh? Well, come in, let's not let all the cold air out."
>You nod and trot inside, trying not to huff the male scent that gently pervades the apartment.
>As the door closes behind you, it occurs to you that this place is as cold as a griffin's meat locker.
>You're fine, as a mountain-bred unicorn, but you can't imagine your host is, considering the thinness of his coat.
>You step into the living room and pause at the sight of an industrial cooling engine you recognize from visiting an ice cream factory.
>The bull chuckles as he walks past you.
>"It's a little excessive, I know, but I like staying cool. Now, about where is the leak coming through?"
>You trot to join him as he sidles behind the tubes of the cooling engine.
>It's a little odd that his upper body is so unusual, yet his legs are normal, foal-chasing, delicious-
>Focus, Twinkleshine.
"Closer to the corner, if I recall correctly."
>He stops and you find your directions are unnecessary.
>One of the coolant tubes is poorly sealed to the port on the main body of the engine, a slow trickle of goop running down the side and pooling on the floor.
>The bull sighs at the sight, running his slender hand through his short-cropped mane.
>"I'm going to need a mechanic to fix this, aren't I?"
>You shake your head.
"No need, let me get it."
>He turns to you, a frown of confusion on his face.
>You decide to show off a little.
>You use your magic to unscrew the ring cap from around the tube.
>It pops off with a metallic "ping" as the tension of being screwed on poorly is released.
>Meanwhile, your telekinesis holds the coolant in as you reinsert the tube mouth onto the port.
>Then it's merely a matter of screwing the ring cap back on and basking in a bull's gratitude.
>He laughs in delight.
>"Well, that is a lot cheaper than what I had in mind. Thank you- uh, I don't think I got your name."
>You back up as he climbs out from behind the cooling engine.
"I'm Twinkleshine, nice to meet you."
>He reaches out and shakes your hoof, his hand pleasantly cool.
>"Anon and likewise. I should really clean the puddle before it dries, and you probably have your half in the ceiling too. How about once we're done, I cook us some dinner to make up for the mess and we can get to know each other properly?"
>Cool air, stallion-cooked food, and charming company?
>You beam at Anon.
"I'd love that."
>Summer in Manehattan might not be as bad as you were expecting.


>As you get to talking, you find out that he came from the northern lakes of Labyrinthia.
>You still can't believe cows still dive into the ice-cold lake water as a test of courage and fortitude before their winter wrap-up.
>Sure, it impresses the bulls and shows off hard nips on the cows' teats, but every year a hoofful of them die under the ice.
>The conversation shifts towards your specialty.
>He's suitably impressed with your degree in thaumaturgical engineering, as well as the complexity of the manaform of the train engine you designed.
>After a refreshing cucumber and spinach salad with a salty and creamy dressing, you sprawl on his couch as he practically melts into a beanbag chair.
>You can't help but wonder if part of the reason he likes it this cool in his home is to see your nips harden.
>The rush of arousal at the thought keeps you nice and warm as you chat with him.
>You sigh.
"That really hit the spot. I really liked the ranch dressing, could you tell me the recipe?"
>He crosses his arms under his chin and smirks at you.
>"It's just store bought with a secret ingredient added."
>You raise an eyebrow at him.
"Oh? What is it?"
>He snorts.
>"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you."
>You give him a teasing smile.
"In that case, I'll have to keep coming to dinner until I figure it out."
>He winks.
>"You're welcome to try."

>For the next month or so, you come by every evening to eat dinner and chat with your charming upstairs neighbor.
>After Imposing on him like that, you offer to pick up some of the grocery shopping and he is happy to accept.
>You also get some ranch dressing of your own to experiment with.
>You don't try too hard to replicate the recipe, but it's a fun little hobby to mess with while your bestiary battler cards gather dust.
>You even bring Anon some of your odd successes to try, like mixing in pickle brine.
>Meanwhile, Anon somehow got his hands on a genuine Cloudsdale thermal sink.
>The thing's horribly complicated, with parts that took months to arrive, but he's deliriously happy about getting it running.
>You can't blame him, it's barely the size of a beach ball, fits into the light crystal socket, and has a tube running to the oven to save on both heating and cooling energy.
>He sold off his old cooling unit, freeing up an entire third of the living room.

>Though you have to work with the landlady to levitate that monster out of the apartment building.
>All Aboard used to work in a dry dock before a bad cargo fall chipped her horn, and she retired to property management.
>If you are being honest, she intimidates you.
>The grizzled gray mare has a horn as girthy as a stallion's... if a few span shorter.
>Her magic is supporting most of the weight of the cooling unit as you maneuver it around the door, railing, and stairs.
>Even with the lighter burden, you are panting and sweating by the time the two of you get it out onto the corner for the buyer to pick up.
>Aboard slaps your withers and chuckles.
>"A good workout, right Twink?"
>You laugh tiredly.
"And then some. The last time I worked my magic this hard, I was defending my master's thesis."
>She nods, quiet for a moment.
>"Listen..."
>You look at her wry face.
>"I really appreciate you being there for him. He's been isolating himself for a long time, and it warms my heart to see a good, honest mare like you looking out for him."
>You blush at the praise.
"It's nothing, if anything he's helping me out and keeping me company just as much. And well... the scenery isn't bad."
>The landlady guffaws.
>"Honest, I like that! I'd have made a move myself, if he weren't my tenant! Colt looks good, for all that he's my age."
>You blink rapidly.
"Your age? But he can't be more than twenty, right?"
>All Aboard shrugs.
>"Snub-faced bulls look young for decades. He looks much the same now as when he moved in a good twenty some odd years ago."
>Your mind reels at the idea.
>You always thought he was a little younger than you, he has the whimsy and flirtatious manner of a younger stallion.
>Not that his age puts you off, really, it just comes as a shock.
>Though part of you is a little disappointed at the smaller chance that you'd be his first time.
>You ignore it as best you can, you'd still be incredibly lucky to have him.

>The thermal sink works like a charm, and there doesn't seem to be any tainting of the flavor of cookies baked with the heat it strips from the air.
>You're looking forward to basking in that frigid air while you trot back from the office.
>The griffin client kept changing the specs for your airship engine prototype to fulfill.
>It was frustrating, designing and redesigning, but you got it done, even if you don't really have the mana to teleport right now.
>Then a strong tremor shook the ground, sending poorly secured windows shattering across the city.
>You frown, glad nothing fell on you, and wait for the aftershocks.
>But there was nothing for ten minutes as you shuffled along the street.
>Looking at a crystal display, the news bulletin tells you why.
>Apparently, the elements defeated some mole monster in Ponyville before it could shake the country apart.
>You shake your head and start trotting faster towards home.
>Anon should be okay, but he's a tall guy, so a fall would still be bad.

>As you expected, none of the windows to his apartment broke, too firmly sealed to get rattled.
>You knock on his door.
>To your relief, you hear him moments later.
>"Shine?"
>You smile.
"Hey Anon, you doing alright?"
>His voice is muffled as he talks through the door.
>"I'm fine, but the thermal sink fell. Luckily the heat was contained, but it isn't absorbing anymore."
>You frown.
"That's not great. I know it cost you more than a few bits, are you thinking of downgrading?"
>Anon sighs.
>"Not yet. I ordered the replacement parts, so it should be up and running again soon enough."
>You nod.
"That's good at least. Is it alright if I come in?"
>Anon is oddly silent for a long moment.
>"No...no, I don't want to let the cold air out, especially if I have a few months until I can cool it again."
>You smile and shake your head at how passionate he is about staying as cool as possible.
"I'm a unicorn, I could just teleport inside."
>The response is immediate.
>"No! No, that won't be necessary, besides, another body warming up the place..."
>Your chest aches at that refusal.
>You know you haven't asked him to be your coltfriend yet, but you thought you were closer than this.
"Then I guess I'll talk to you later."
>"Later, Shine. And thanks for checking on me."

>As weeks turned into a month, you start to suspect there is a reason why Anon is currently single.
>He has you teleporting groceries and mail into his apartment, but always refuses you going in yourself.
>You'd feel more used than you are, if he wasn't still making dinner for the both of you, though you have to teleport it from a small table by the door.
>And while you can still chat with him through the door, speaking loudly in the summer heat really isn't something you can do for as long as you like.
>And then one day, you bring him bad news.
>Today's mail came with a message from Cloudsdale Thaumaturgics.
>The tessothermostat that was supposed to be shipped today was requisitioned by a nationalized factory due to a ball lightning accident.
>You pop the mail in and call out.
"Anon, looks like there was a delay on the parts. Want me to get you a cheap unit to tide you over until things work out?"
>There is a long moment of silence, then he replies.
>"Yes, that would be best. I'll leave the bits for it on the tray. Get the best you can find for the price. And thank you for doing this, I really can't imagine going out in the heat like this."
>You shake your head ruefully as you collect the bag of bits with a pop of spatial dislocation.
>Who knew northern bulls would be so sensitive to temperature?
>Though maybe he has some compulsion about not getting sweaty.
>That... might complicate things later, but it's a bridge you'll cross when you come to it.
"You're welcome Anon. I'll be back as soon as I can."

>Lugging back the Winter Wind 2000 has you sweating your teats off, foamy sweat slopping off onto the street.
>It's not as big as the cooler before the thermal sink, but it's still pretty heavy.
>Not to mention you need to save as much mana as possible to teleport it inside.
>You levitate it up to Anon's door.
>You get there a few minutes later, taking the time to catch your breath and discard the foamy sweat clinging to your coat.
>Finally, you knock on the door.
"Anon, ready for the new unit?"
>Silence.
>You knock louder and a little longer.
"Anon?"
>You are starting to get worried.
>You pound on the door.
>Still no answer.
>All Aboard teleports nearby with a bang.
>Celestia, but that mare has a lot of mana.
>She scowls, but when she sees you, her look softens.
>"What's going on?"
>You frown.
"Anon asked me to get this for him less than an hour ago, but he's not answering. I'm going to teleport in, I think something's wrong."
>The landlady nods, her horn flaring with purple light.
>With loud crack, the two of you appear in Anon's living room, the carpet wet and cool.
>You shake your head.
"Did the silly bull just spill water everywhere to get cool?"
>All Aboard doesn't comment, merely stalking into the hall and calling out, "Anon!"
>You follow her, checking the laundry room and the kitchen.
>The gray mare announces, "He's not in his bedroom."
>You get a sinking feeling as you go to the last place he could be.
>You crack open the door to the bathroom.
"Anon, are you there?"
>No answer.
>You nudge it open and step inside, All Aboard close behind.
>No blood on the sink or anything, so him taking a bad fall isn't likely.
>You tug the shower curtain to the side and freeze.
>Anon smiles sheepishly at you from the tub, water lapping at his now blue skin, his fishlike tail curled up to fit in the tub.
>All Aboard stares at him in bewilderment.
>"What in Tartarus?"
>You smile down at him, your heart beating like mad.
>You always wanted a monsterhusbando.
"Anon is a Silky, a cold-weather shape shifter, which drag off unsuspecting cows and mares to watery graves."
>Anon shakes his head.
>"It's a misunderstanding. We actually have a long tradition of wife-stealing."
>All Aboard frowns and looks to you.
>"Should we call the guard, or what?"
>You shake your head.
"Hey Aboard, did you know that in terms of mare and monstercolt breeding, silkies are the most compatible monster for ponies?"