Title:           Week11 - GreentextSavant
Author:          AlexanderGrey
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/rqQ0sq87
First Edit:      Friday 3rd of June 2016 09:14:34 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Monday 20th of March 2017 06:31:46 PM CDT

TRIXIE THE TUMBLRITE
>[Alright.] Twilight answers after a minute or so.
>After the message comes in, Trixie feels a door beginning to close. A door that had unexpectedly opened when Twilight had first messaged her over this website.
>There were so many thing Trixie could have said about Twilight’s art. So many things she could have asked, especially pertaining to the drawing process. All of that previous hatred for learning disappeared in Trixie’s head when she saw Twilight herself, that glorious internet artist, novelist and who knows what else message her.
>[Wait.] The message is all typed up and sent before Trixie’s conscience realizes it.
>[Hm?]
>Now Trixie has to think up something to say in order to follow up on the potential mistake she just made.
>[Are you saying you won’t mind if I kind of go off on a tangent about something?]
>Trixie imagines Twilight spending a few minutes to question the way she worded that. She’s probably looking at her message right now and thinking to herself about how overly-dramatic whatever Trixie has to say is. It’s thoughts like these that makes Trixie wish she could… help it, to be honest.
>[Sure I don’t mind.] Twilight’s message comes in a lot more quickly than Trixie had anticipated. Trixie is nearly startled by the message notification suddenly appearing.
>After getting her green light to explain what Twilight had apparently seen on the paper, Trixie does not hesitate to try and explain herself.
>[I’ve always been terrible at drawing and pretty much anything involving art. I’ve always found the process to be extremely hard and painful thing to do because I’ve hated learning things ever since I had to go to school every day and learn about things I don’t care about…] The sound of trixie’s keyboard echoes across her room.
>After Trixie finishes her massive paragraph on text, she presses send right after she notices Twilight send something else on the other end. As Trixie reads what Twilight sent, it becomes apparent that Twilight had already built her own inference based on what Trixie had written on the paper that she threw away.
>[If it’s something about art, don’t worry. I can give you a few pointers on how to improve. Starting out is always the hardest part, I know this from experience.]
>Trixie imagines Twilight reading the paragraph of complaints over the next five minutes after the messages were sent.
>After this, another message comes in.
>[It’s okay to run into difficulties at first when learning how to draw. But it’s important to enjoy doing it no matter what. If the process seems a little bit difficult for you, maybe you should just practice the process itself without any real drawings behind it so it doesn’t get in the way of you having fun.]
>[Well the problem is that I have a hard time understanding the process. I’ve tried and tried so much but it just never got better whenever I would try and draw something on paper. I’m sorry you had to see whatever I said about that before.]
>Trixie feels a knot in her stomach at first when she sees Twilight’s next message come in, at least at first.
>[Feeling frustration is completely natural when something doesn’t work out. But it’s okay, that’s where you reach out to other people for help. That’s one of the major things friendship is for.]
>Twilight starts typing some more as Trixie interprets what the last message form her had insisted. A rant about friendship has become a lot closer to this conversation now that the idea of asking for help has come into question. Trixie remembers all of the times she had heard Twilight go off on a tangent about friendship when she was at school.
>Every time someone would bring it up, Twilight would include how friends could help eachother learn things together and correct each other’s flaws and weaknesses.
>And that is exactly what Trixie sees posted next.
>[It’s actually all about practice, really. All you have to do is look over the process and get an idea of how to do it. You can even do it completely wrong at first if you want to, because then you can figure out what not to do and look forward to the things to try next.]
>Trixie remembers all of those years she had spent hating the very act if practicing.
>[I can even show you how I learned it. It took me a long time to learn it, and it was really difficult, but I got the hang of it after a while of working hard.]
>Working hard.
>An eruption of rage silently fills Trixie as she sits in her chair, feeling the need to do what she did with her computer last time. Working hard and learning only make Trixie feel worse about herself, given that they are two of the last things she is willing to do.
>Things that complaining has eased Trixie’s thoughts away from.
>[I’m glad we had this talk. I’ve always wanted to teach someone else how to draw! : 3]
>The word “teach” is something Trixie never wanted to hear.
>She doesn’t answer Twilight, just considers shutting off the computer and shields her eyes from the internet. But the messages come in more and more, further displaying the vast knowledge that Twilight has on art and likely other things.
>[We can start on line-art and sketches and what makes them different for starters.] Twilight begins. [It’s really not that hard once you get used to it.]
>Get used to it.
>Now in an uncontrollable fit, Trixie goes to her settings page and clicks “delete account”. It’s hard to click directly on the button with the tears accumulating in her eyes.
>[Trixie? Are you there? I’d love to help you!] Twilight’s message itself seems as though it’s reaching out a theoretical kind hand towards Trixie through the screen.
>Trixie is not used to people caring this much. She reminisces on all of the time she had eaten along at lunch, vowing to herself that she was going to be a famous artist or writer someday.
>That would have made everyone in school regret ignoring her when they got the chance to know her.
>But now that success would not be Trixie’s own, not if somebody else taught her how to do it.
>And the process?
>Trixie wants NONE of that difficult bullshit. There is no time for waiting, no time or patience for practicing. In Trixie’s mind, having discipline is overrated. The last thing Trixie wants to do is LEARN.
>The Tumblr account is terminated in a matter of seconds. Twilight’s messages had gone unanswered. All of them.
>Trixie chucks her laptop across the room, causing it to snap in half on impact with the wall. If someone had discovered her IP address, the information they got would be useless now.
>After crawling back into bed, Trixie lies on her side and cries herself to sleep once again… not having learned a damned thing.
Fucking Tumblrites, man.
End.
 
FriENDship
>A loud crash leads to the garage door being busted inward towards where the group used to stand. April is behind a driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
>Silver yells for everyone to form a single file line as he steps out of the vehicle with his firearm drawn. Letting his feet loudly slap against the garage floor from the drop from the SUV, he points it into the darkness. Nothing comes for him.
>Yet.
>”Alright, listen up, we’re going to need everyone to split up into groups and get into separate vehicles!” He starts to explain as noises begin to erupt from inside of the station.
>All of the unsettling noises seem to be coming from the inside of the station rather than outside of it. Including the sounds of guns being fired. It doesn’t take much to figure out that there’s enough of a battle going on in the station to have gotten the civilians in the gym caught in the crossfire.
>Everyone scrambles through the parking lot in search for the protection of one of the police SUV’s, soon finding that the doors have all been unlocked ahead of time to save every second. They permeate through the cramped clusters of metal and wheels.
>Silver’s orders to close and lock the doors echo across the parking lot as the crowd follows his orders. At this point, everyone is just ready to end this day as it slowly finishes turning into night. The town is so much darker without the street lights on, letting the blackness hide the remnants of what everyone once loved.
>Bulk can’t find his car in the darkness outside the wind shield of the SUV.
>Though, it’s not like he’s going to be able to get to the thing at this point. Even the inside of the police station is no longer safe based on what can be heard coming from within. Fluttershy, Trixie and Derpy all sit in the back seat while Cadence sits in the passenger seat.
>”What are we doing?” Trixie frantically looks back at the building.
>Cadence turns back at her. “What do you think we’re doing? We can’t stay in there!”
>”We’re out in the open out here!” Argues Trixie, getting red in the face as rushed footsteps begin to sound in all directions outside. “What are we even supposed to-”
>Bulk starts up the engine of the car, letting the growl from below the seats cut Trixie off in mid sentence. It’s a good thing that all of the police vehicles had been parked in the parking spaces beforehand; the cars flooding the rest of the parking lot have literally no room to move.
>The wheels climb up the curb as they roll onto the grass.
>”We have to go back inside!” Trixie protests.
>Fluttershy and Derpy hold onto eachother with their eyes tightly shut. The yelling means nothing to them anymore — all they want to do is shut it out completely.
>Every police vehicle on the outer reaches of the parking lot eventually make it to the road.
 
LISTEN
>The bright green glow from Lemon Zest’s hair is still nowhere to be found as more and more of the students enter through the main entrance of the school.
>You really wish you could think up an excuse to get to mentor your homeroom class a little bit sooner in order to dodge this situation. It’s not like your classroom is even very far away, but Cinch’s orders are Cinch’s orders.
>At least when she’s annoyed.
>To speed things up, you seek out Zest’s friends in order to get a good idea of where she is.
>If anything, this is a better way to know where not to go in order to honestly say that you never ran into Lemon Zest before you had to watch over your homeroom students.
>Sour Sweet appears in the doorway next to a couple of her own friends; you remember that girl talking to Lemon Zest in class before, planning what they’re going to do over the weekend.
“Excuse me!” You call out in the direction of the salmon colored ponytail before it disappears into the crowd. “Miss Sweet!” You often feel awkward calling out this name.
>It’s only now when you notice Indigo Zap right next to her, who turns to face you first.
>She even walks up to you first. “What, Mr. Mous?” She blankly stares at you with Sour Sweet approaching form right behind her.
>While Indigo seems calm and complacent, Sour is already starting to squint her eyes in a suspicious manner as she looks at you.
“Have either of you seen Miss Zest around here?”
>They give eachother looks before turning their heads back at you.
“I need to speak with her.” You continue, already starting to feel uneasy by Sour Sweet’s prying glare. “Have either of you seen her?”
>Sour Sweet is obviously answering so Indigo doesn’t have to. “I don’t think she’s going to be here until after homeroom starts up.” She switches on her softer voice.
>Judging by past experiences you’ve had with her, this voice likely won't last long.
 
IT'S JUST A PRANK, RARITY!
>Ah, yes, another fun winter night of drinking.
>You and the rest of the group of fellow college students have your fun while the first half of the night lasts, not even dreading what the hangovers tomorrow morning will be like.
>But what strikes you as fascinating is the fact that most of the hottest girls in school have decided to come over here to Norman’s dorm.
>It’s not clear what about this party in particular caused it to happen, but you’re not going to question it. You see Rarity and Sunset enter through the front door.
>That should eliminate any further questions from your mind, even though you expect them to leave after fifteen minutes or so like every other hot girl who attends parties like this.
>Just count the minutes during which they remain and think up what you’re going to say tomorrow when you brag about how you were at the same party as these two once Monday morning rolls around.
>An hour or so passes – and they are both still here.
>And as if your joy could not be fueled enough, Flash Sentry has turned out to be the one to leave early. He stumbled out the door right before midnight with Twilight Sparkle in his arms.
>Figures.
>Not that you care, anyway. Rarity and Sunset are a lot bustier than Twilight, after all.
>Party games fly by, and you become gradually more and more wasted as the hours pass. It doesn’t take long for spurts of fortitude to show once you have enough alcohol assaulting your liver.
>Your hands roam free; mustering up enough bravery to sneak little feels on Sunset’s arm… and eventually past that.
>She scolds you for doing this at first, and the other guys at the party cheer you on regarding your behavior. Even Rarity encourages you playfully copping feels onto Sunset to give everyone a laugh and yourself a boner.
>That is… until you start doing the same thing to her.
>But the guys still don’t give the slightest of damns; they only tell Rarity that she should stop being a whiny hypocrite when you turned your attention towards her.
>Nolan, a friend of Norman’s, eventually passes out and you’re left with two other guys in the room along with Sunset and Rarity.
>Other than about three or four more guys in the next room, no one else.
>More… and more… and then still more alcohol enters the whole lot of you until one more guy passes out. And you’re thankful to even nonexistent God that it wasn’t you who suffered such a fate.
>You still get to be conscious enough to get a glimpse of Rarity leaning forward over the pool table.
>This starts up a few curious thought between you and the other remaining guys in the room about how pale Rarity’s skin is, and how you can’t agree on whether that makes her hotter or not.
>Rarity begins to yell at you all for “patronizing her” and judging her beauty based on “backwards assumptions”. At least, that’s what you make out from what she says through her drunken ramblings and your own drunken ears.
>”I’ll have you know… that pale skin has been seen for centuries as a symbol as beauty!” Slurs the purple haired diva with her glossy eyelids unevenly half-closed.
>Norman clumsily takes a stagger forward. “Th-then why do people… like… get tans and stuff?” He has to lean on the pool table in order to keep from crashing down to the floor. “This isn’t the eighteenth century!”
>Rarity tries to slap him… and misses by a mile. You let out a bubbling laughter before spilling what’s left of your vodka to the floor.
“It’s a good thing you don’t need to see her hand coming!” Your voice is in a clumsily howling tone. “Better watch out after she sobers up tomorrow!”
>”Y-yeah…” Sunset adds after a hiccup. “And I heard there’s going to be a snowstorm too. So you won’t even see her coming!”
>Everyone except Rarity explodes with laughter.
>Rarity lurches forward across the pool table towards Sunset on the other side, nearly grabbing ahold of the girl. Her previously pale face reddened from being either extremely drunk or extremely flustered. You honestly can’t tell anymore.
>Maybe you’re too distracted by that cleavage from down the loose collar of her shirt.
>”I-I thought…” Norman tries to talk over the laughter in order to get across what he has to say. “I thought she…”
“You thought what?” You might have been the only one sober enough to realize that Norman’s talking.
>”At first, I thought she said… cum!” Norman tilts his glistening face towards the ceiling. “Like… you wouldn’t see her cum.”
>And you were just about to pick your vodka back up. You landed right on the now empty shot glass, thankfully not breaking it under your tiny, slender body.
>”See HER cum?” Another one of the guys blurts out. “Fuck, dude. You wouldn’t be able to see MY cum with her white ass skin.”
>This immediately gets the group thinking, and you find yourself presenting a theory of your own in a matter of seconds.
“Guys… I’m curious…” You bring up, still sneaking a few peeks down Rarity’s shirt. “If I came onto Rarity’s tits like right now… would it be like… visible?”
>The guys look at you as thought you’re a mathematical genius who just proposed an experiment that could discover a breakthrough to the invention of time travel. Sunset just stands there chuckling at your immaturity.
>”Duuuuude… Norman stares at you with eyes that struggle to widen. “That is like… the best question I have ever heard!”
>”You won’t see it. Probably.” Sunset jumps to the conclusion. “Trust me.”
>You turn to her.
“How do you know?”
>”Because…” Sunset doesn’t have enough self-restraint to keep her secrets in. “I know what cum looks like enough to like… memorize it enough.”
>”Whoa!” The other guys exclaim in unison.
“Are… are you serious?” You feel like you’d be more likely to hear something like this out of Rarity, which should have ended the idea of this experiment right then and there.
>But the conversation soon shifts from arguing over what Sunset accidentally reminisces to the two guys and Sunset firing some intoxicated banter towards Rarity. You’re basically the one to bring up actually getting someone to cum on her chest to see if it’s visible.
>All of you are too drunk to see any flaws or stupidity in this idea.
>”Well you can… you can buzz of! You… bah… barbarians!” Rarity crosses her arms over her chest and scowls towards the other three.
>The shouting turns out to have been louder than you thought.
>Just at this moment, the guys from the other room come knocking on the door. “Yooooooo! What’s going on in there?” A nearly whining voice calls through the door.
>Before anyone can answer, the group of four more guys comes crashing over one another through the doorway. You can just tell that they’ll either make matters worse for Rarity or bring more life to the party.
>It turns out to be a little bit of both… and then a lot more for the latter.
>A bunch of flirting with Sunset and rarity begins as the guys from the other room make themselves comfortable, pretty much undermining your previous position in the room. Naturally because most of these guys are football players.
>Despite this sort of thing happening too often for comfort normally bothers you, you find yourself too drunk to care. Just continue on with the party; it is almost one in the morning, after all. Things should be wrapping up soon.
>As the smell of vodka slowly fills the room, so does the rumor about the cum being invisible after someone jacks off onto Rarity’s chest. It just came up in the haphazard, teetering conversation. Including yourself, all five of the guys in the room are interested to see what would actually happen, for obvious actual reasons.
>But to your surprise, Rarity doesn’t seem at all too opposed to the idea, while she’s still nowhere near for it as the guys… or even sunset, who tries to convince the girl to do it really quickly.
>Rarity continues to tell them that they are pigs, all the while stepping closer to them in contrast to what her words say. And when one’s drunk, the values of actions versus words can become hazy in either direction. These guys paid more than enough attention to the actions.
>They gather around Rarity, starting to place their hands as her as she drunkenly giggles for them to fornicate each other. You’re left out of the action, but the idea you had outlives your popular presence in the room.
>One guy pulls his pants down and starts stroking his dick, ignoring everyone else’s jeers to pull his pants back up already. Nobody even takes the idea seriously at first, but after seeing someone try to put it into action, they start repeating what you suggested to each other.
>”If you ejaculate unto her chest, will it be visible?” Norman mimics a random bible character to sound deep as he steps closer to Rarity.
>”G-go do something else somewhere else, darling…” Rarity can hardly look at him or his friends who start to surround her from behind him. “I’m not scared of you.”
>The guys collectively giggle, only grabbing onto Rarity’s shoulders and upper arms for now. The girl jokingly pushes them away before Sunset starts to get involved and tries to untuck Rarity’s shirt.
>With this, Sunset speaks to Rarity in an almost incoherent manner. “You… gotta try this, Rarity. I’m too… far too curious to not see what happens next!”
>Everyone huddling around Rarity starts to grab onto the fabric of her shirt and pull it upwards. Rarity tries to squirm away, especially once the pulling hands start to force her abdomen to be revealed.
>All you do is watch as Sunset and the six other guys in the room slowly work Rarity’s shirt up her torso; the one guy still stroking his cock in attempt to be able to climax while Rarity is still restrained. They’re all so drunk, they can’t even find the back of Rarity’s bra to unhook it.
>Even you can see it from where you’re standing, which says a lot about how much less drunk you are than everyone else.
>Rarity now ferociously squirms to get out of the collective grasp when she realizes that her shirt has been scrunched up at her shoulders and there are fingers hooking around the strap of her bra from all directions. She crouches forward and crosses her arms as much as she can to block her nipples from coming into plain view.
>Everyone pulling on her eventually lose their balance when she jolts forward and sends them all stumbling. You can visually see how drunk they all are.
>It’s a good thing you spilled your vodka a while back.
>By some miracle, Rarity manages to escape the grasp of the drunken group of horny hands. She fixes her bra and pulls her shirt back down, leaving your raging erection nothing more to go on. And she ducks out of the way just in time too, because a stream of revenge of the vodka soon shoots out at one of the guys from Norman’s mouth.
>The guy who was… waxing his carrot… a few minutes ago lost his drive. He falls back into a chair and struggles to get his mast back up.
>You drink nothing else as the rest of the night goes by with each of the party goers passing out one by one. You’re soon the last one left awake… and you nobody has left the room by the time this becomes the case.
>The air is quiet when you creep over to where Rarity lies on her back on the sofa. This is your chance to really conduct the experiment.
>She doesn’t even respond to you mounting her, staying completely limp and motionless.
>But you’re rather careful anyway, which is a little bit easier since you’ve slightly sobered up in the past hour or so, though that feeling could just be your drunken imagination.
>This whole moment very well may be your drunken imagination.
>You undo Rarity’s belt, loosening its grip on those hips. You reach under the top rim of her skirt to start pulling on her shirt to begin to untuck it once more. Rarity twitches her eyebrows only for a split second, and you pull the cloth up to unveil her bellybutton.
>Her shirt is soon brought up past her chest, and you try to figure out how your going to undo her bra if you’re going to do this right. You have to move slowly, in case she might wake up.
>After bunching her shirt up at her collarbone level, you decide to just be lazy and lift her bra up her body and slide it back into place after you’re done. Speed is a key factor here, anyway.
>You don’t have to worry about waiting to get a boner after her nipples pop out from under the bra as you lift it away. Rarity lets out the most peaceful tired sigh and shifts her torso around as it starts to feel a little bit colder in the open air. You watch her nipples gradually harden, as you feel your member gradually finish doing something really similar.
>Start stroking immediately, aiming the tip straight at the canyon between those mounds of soft flesh. You keep this going for half a minute, not being able to restrain yourself from cupping those breasts in the palms and fingers of your free hand at least a dozen times.
>The give way with ease as you tighten your grip onto the warm surface. Let the erect nipples jut into the gaps between your fingers while you slide your hands along the smooth faces of Rarity’s exposed bosom. You completely forget how fast you were rubbing your dick, and feel the climax before you have any notion to stop it from coming.
>All you can do is aim.
>Each spurt of cum delicately splatters into Rarity’s silky skin. If it weren’t for the shine of the moist material of your semen, you would not have been able to tell that it was even there. Rarity’s skin perfectly matches the tone of you cum, almost as though it was made to be coated in such a substance.
>Without the shine — the glare from the fluorescent light above — the blobs of your load would look like a series of large mosquito bites all over the surface of Rarity’s perky tits.
>You get a devious idea (probably from the vodka still clouding your judgement), and take both of your hands to lather themselves in the load upon Rarity’s chest. Rarity sighs heavily as she feels your hands do this, but doesn’t wake up. You’re either too drunk to care anymore, or too horny to care anymore.
>Take your hands, lathered with your load, and spread the moisture all over each of Rarity’s breasts. As she gets even colder at this point from all of this, her nipples become completely erect as your fingers flick them rhythmically as you glide your hands side to side while pressing down into the soft breasts.
>Spread that like a god damn lotion.
>The second part of your idea comes into play after you begin to slide Rarity’s bra back over her nipples. You press the laced material perfectly into proper place like a piece of paper onto a table coated in glue, which would be the perfect metaphor to use if you ever re-enact this in front of your peers.
>You start to giggle like an idiot as you realize that there’s no going back from this devilish act. You roll Rarity’s shirt back down and tuck it back in, tightening her belt back up afterwards. As a token of your cockiness, you take out a piece of paper and write a cheeky little note for Rarity before slipping it into her purse.
>Like a soldier having completed his mission, you make a hilariously clumsy escape into the winter night. You hardly remember stumbling all the way back to your own dorm.
>…
>The next morning, Rarity does her usually awkward farewells in the morning after the party. She gets her purse, checks to see if anything might have been stolen, and goes back to her sorority house. Rarity goes back to her purse to notice a small note that wasn’t there before. She pulls the sticky piece of paper out and reads it.
>[its just a prank brah] It reads with the ‘h’ smeared to the point where it’s hard to make out.
>Rarity brushes it off as nothing important and flicks the paper out the window before the sticky substance gets all over her fingers.
>And the first thing that crosses her mind after re-entering her own room is the need to take a shower before doing anything else. She knows that being around all of those filthy frat boys calls for at least one immediate shower the day after.
>She slips out of her shirt and skirt and starts to work on her bra. But Rarity immediately feels something off about the way it is… sort of locked into place on her chest. But she doesn’t see anything when she looks into the mirror. No visible signs of anything coating her skin that could be forcing the fabric to stick.
>Rarity undoes the back and tries to let the undergarment slip off, then tries to pull it off, then cries out in rage as she slowly realizes what’s really going on there.
>…
>The day after.
>A couple of police cars arrive at one of the dorm buildings, and the three police officers head on up to Anon Y. Mous’s dorm room with a warrant for his arrest. The poor, unfortunate green young man is intruded upon right in the middle of one of his masturbation sessions. After putting up a small fight, he is hauled away in handcuffs across the snowy parking lot with his pants and trousers around his ankles.
>Anon insists that he was never at any party, and that he would have never in a million years been invited to a party where the popular people would be. He insists that Rarity’s accusations regarding him are false, and that he has never even gotten the chance to come within ten feet of the girl.
>But the cops stuff him into the back of the squad car anyway. There is no way to prove it was or wasn’t him at the party, and there is no way to tell if Anon is lying about not being there or telling the truth. But Rarity insists that he is the one at fault.
>It’s just a prank, Rarity.