Title:           Some Welcome Abuse Pt2 (Incomplete)
Author:          Lapplejack
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/CDm98Srx
First Edit:      Thursday 14th of January 2016 01:19:58 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Friday 1st of July 2016 06:27:12 PM CDT

>You're chillin' out at home
>Cool air blowing through your bedroom window
>Controller in hand, absorbed in your umpteenth match of Rocket League
>It's a nice balance of hot and cold outside that would normally warrant going for a run
>but you're sporting a few bruises that you're not keen to stress
>You have the game volume set low
>The cheering of the crowd is faint and fading quickly in favor of the peaceful ambiance of the outdoors
>A gentle breeze pushing through barren trees
>The muted laughter of children playing several blocks away
>The wooden gate to your back yard gently swaying, unlatched and open
>Your neighbors chattering while they prepare food for lunch, their own windows opened to enjoy the momentary reprieve in extreme weather
>You massage your calves against each other and consider a mid-day nap
>No work for two days
>No pressing social obligations
>Just some you-time
>You close your eyes, feeling the controller slip from your grasp, current match be damned
>"WE AREN'T DATING, YOU FUCKING DWEEB!"
>A surprised choke is the best you can manage as a football soars through your bedroom window and nails you squarely in the head
>You sprawl out on the floor, completely bewildered
"T..The fuck?"
>You make quick sense of Up and Down and use your regained spatial awareness to locate the window
>At the end of your backyard, just within the open gate, is Rainbow Dash
>A tree, a waving gate, a partially opened window: there were a lot of factors working against the admittedly amazing shot she made from that point to your head
>But that's not so important at the moment
"What the fuck is your problem?"
>Your voice wavers a bit when you shout at her
>A little squeak that threatens to tear down your mighty masculine walls
>One Dash wouldn't miss for the world
>And yet you don't see her smirk
>The glow of a rebuttal opportunity doesn't seep out of her core and across her face
>She just looks pissed
>She lingers in the gate for an awkward beat and you stare her down
>You throw up your hands and stand, walking to the window and leaning out
"You need to chill the fuck out and tell me what you're on about."
>She vibrates in place a little
>A container of anger bursting at the seams
>She jabs a finger in your direction
>"You've been talking to Gilda! Or Rarity! Or fucking Flash! Someone."
>You jerk your head back in a show of genuine confusion
>Your head collides with the half-opened window and pain fires across your skull
>Triggering your own building anger
"Maybe I was! At least they make some goddamn sense, once in a while!"
>Dash literally shakes her fists in the air and screams, looking around for something to punch
>Finding nothing, she decides to point at you again
>"Big badass Anon, right? No one fucks with Rainbow Dash but then you come along and HEY you've got her all figured out! Right?"
>Your head is still throbbing and the onslaught of half-complete thoughts from Dash isn't healing anything
>You stumble the rest of the way through the window and step outside
>She still won't leave the gateway
"You are being batshit- oh, just come the fuck in already!"
>She huffs loudly and walks through the gate into your yard, making tracks for you
>You get the old fingerjab in the chest
>"I talk to Gilda today and she asks me how long you and I have been a thing. Now, why the hell would she be thinking something like that!?"
>You throw your hands up again
"Fuck if I know! I don't hang out with her! That's your deal!"
>"Uhm, excuse me but-"
>You and Dash both whip around to look at your neighbor just at the other side of your fence
>You yell at him together
"FUCK OFF WE'RE BUSY"
>FUCK OFF WE'RE BUSY"
>He scurries away and you refocus on each other
>"I told you a hundred goddamn times that whatever we do, it doesn't mean anything. It's, uhh.. c-competition? Yeah! That's exactly what it is. COM-PE-TI-TION. You don't get to go around telling every one of your dumbass keyboard jockey nerdlings that we fuck around."