> You wake up in the loosest sense of “alone”. You can’t actually say that you’re truly in solitude here, but you’d like to emphasize that upon arousal from the joy that is sleep, you are the only occupant of the bed.
> Not that you can honestly complain, of course.
> It appears that both Spike and Twilight are at work on whatever downstairs, and that it’s early afternoon, considering how late you went to bed; ignoring the slight pang in the back of your head, you make your sluggish way over to the balcony and give the usual wake-up greetings.
Yoooooo~*yawn*.
> Twi: “Good afternoon, sleepyhead! Thanks for the breakfast, although everything was cold by the time we found it.”
> She’s on the couch of undisputed terror, the cursed thing that promised you hours of torturous attempts to sleep; that baby will have to go soon, or you will.
> Oh yeah, today’s the day you’re moving stuff in!
So, once I shower up I’mma go and get my stuff. It’s not too much, but I’ll need a place to put my bed… and a brand new couch.
> Twi: “I sent out a letter to Princess Celestia earlier, and she sent me a reply on what she thought on things, take a look!”
> She whips up a letter up towards you, and after grabbing a good hold of the scroll like thing, you read out loud:
Dear Twilight, my most faithful student(She doesn’t hold back, does she?),
Although it was to my deepest regrets that I heard you did not get officially accepted into Greybeard’s School for the Gifted, I am glad that you have not let this get you down and plan to intensely continue with your studies. I approve of you hiring a tudor, especially the humble one known as Professor Anon. I’ve talked to him once before over the course of a week, and he is a most charming and talented creature, and so I accept his job and will pay him as you requested. The attach following is for his first week’s pay-
> Wait a minute. Attached where?
Twilight, where’s my loot?
> She rolls her eyes at you, annoyed that you’re so distracted by cash that you don’t continue the letter; grabbing some clean clothes upstairs, you make your way down to see the goodies.
> Twi: “Just finish the letter! The bits are right there.”
> The bag looks legit, and it’s there, and upon sitting on the couch, you wrap up the letter:
For his hard and enduring work. Feel free to update me with the lessons learned, whether it’s magic or… what you entailed before(You bet your ass I’m going to be inquiring this.), and I give full permission, as requested, for Anon and yourself to share a bed should you two choose to do so.
Good luck on your studies and relationship(?),
Princess Celestia.
> You toss the scroll on the table stiffly, not at all pleased.
Well, that’s just fucking dandy. As I said, my bed and couch, I’ll need space for them.
> Twi: “But the Princess said-“
If we chose to; I can most certainly opt out of it once I have my bed, and if you even CONSIDER harming my resting place-
> Twi: “You idiot, I worked hard to gather the courage to ask the Princess that, and now you’re going to waste it! You made a promise!”
> Tch! She was right, damnit.
Fine, whatever, but only expect it to be temporary.
> She struts and cheers in some sort of victory, Spike giving a heavy sigh as he bids his farewells on his venture to Rarity’s house.
> Twi: “Plus you eat salads from now on.”
ONE salad, don’t push your fucking luck.
> Twi: “Fiiiiiine, heehee~!”
> The way she acts when she wins sometimes; it’s both hilarious and embarrassing. At the very least, a content Twilight means a paid you. Speaking of which…
> Grabbing the bag, you peer inside to see if the rumors of your wages are true-
Holy Nayru. She weren’t joking.
> Twi: “I told you, the Princess will give anything to make sure I succeed.”
Well, if you wanted to pay for the best, you have the best! But I digress, to the shower I go!
> You spin the bag of gold out of existence, placed into some sort of invisible vault for later access, as you head off to your bathroom routines.
-----
> Twenty minutes later, you’re properly shaved, bathed, and all that good stuff, back in your now outdated uniform.
> Twilight, for some god forsaken reason, decided five minutes in that she need to use the little mare’s room, which led to the pounding of the bathroom door and all that; you blatantly refused to let her in until about ten minutes in, in which she let herself in and booted you out while you were half dressed.
> How kind of her.
> Ignoring the awkward paranoia that you heard her sniffing something in the bathroom (hopefully not your clothing; the things she does when you’re not looking), you venture upstairs to enjoy the fresh breeze of outside as you step out on the balcony.
> You admire the sight of such a busy area, ponies walking about nonchalantly as they fulfill whatever duties that have planned… what?
> What is that… music?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=At52XGlZ_3Y
> It took you about five well-adjusted seconds to notice that there’s a hefty contradiction of a contraption parked in front of Twilight’s house.
What the… hell?
> As if it noticed your presence, it unfolds in multiple ways as it transforms to what can only be described as a magically built stage of sorts, fireworks and fanfare shooting about as this ridiculously dressed unicorn makes her well-adorned appearance.
> As if to keep up with the theatrics that is the entire scene, she shouts at you with as much gusto as literally possible, attracting far more attention than you want.
> ???: “The GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie demands you teach her your so called magic!”
Who the hell are you?
> Trixie: “The GREAT AND POWERFUL Trixie!”
Look, Trixie, when you’re go to embellish your titular name, at least use adjectives that don’t make it look like you’re a character for a little girl’s show. Also, quit yelling.
> It appears that last sentence didn’t make it to her as she bellows on.
> Trixie: “Trixie demands that you give up trying to understand Trixie’s triumphant and mystical ways, and instead focus on teaching Trixie!”
Holy shit, do you yell like that all the time, how are you not a mime?
> Trixie: “Trixie drinks plenty of water.”
Look, you just used some decent adjectives, so here’s my lesson; hide back into your theatre thing, re-come out, and call yourself the Triumphant and Mystical Trixie.
> She thinks on this for a second, debating if your seemingly low intellect has a decent point at hand (or hoof, depending on the perspective here).
> Trixie: “Very well! Trixie will try this!”
> You stand there overhead, humored that she listened to you, as the contraption works its way back into whatever-the-fuck-it-is mode. Twilight, hearing all of this from downstairs, can only make parts of it out.
> Twi: “Hey Anon, who’s that you’re talking to?”
Some crazy mofo named-
> Looks like the stage opened up again, fanfare and fireworks never to be held back; she definitely has a hell of a crowd now.
> Trixie: “The TRIUMPHANT and MYSTICAL Trixie demands that you teach her your so-called magic!”
Nope.
> And with that, you walk away with a shit-eating grin, bemused at the jerk move that you just pulled off.
> Twi: “Well?”
It appears that some mare named Trixie wishes for me to teach her. Unfortunately for her, I’m already under a nice contract and hence I declined.
> Twi: “Trixie is HERE?! Huh. Oh well.”
> The two of you go back to whatever you had plan for a minute, getting ready to teleport over to your house;
> That is, until you smelled something odd.
Twilight… uh, look at the window.
> The two of you watch as Trixie launches feeble Level 1 Fire Spells, to which you assume she’s trying to set the tree on fire.
> The fact the spell is of a Ring Style makes you feel nostalgic for Johnny Cash, but now is not the time to fret on such details.
I fell into a burning ring of fire~
I went down, down, down and the flames went higher~
And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire~
The ring of fire~
> While Johnny’s song may warm a place in your heart, Trixie’s spells are not nearly as effective; obviously she might get somewhere, however, and so you might want to try stopping her.
 
> Twi: “Should we try to stop the idiot?”
She’s committing arson; I say sure, why not.
-----
> Thankfully she stops trying to launch small puffs of flame at the house as Twilight and yourself exit the home.
Hey, stop trying to set stuff on f-
> Trixie: “Trixie DEMANDS you accept her challenge to a Magic Duel!”
> Alright, when ponies here say “Magic Duel”, they mean serious shit; this isn’t some competition, aka a challenge or something. When she calls for a Magic Duel, Trixie wants a fight to the death.
> She’s either one talented badass motherfucker, or the cockiest pony you’ve yet to encounter.
I decline, now go away.
> Twi: “Idiot, quit trying to set my house on fire!”
> Trixie: “As magic rules regulate, any unicorn that declines a Magic Duel must obey the victor-by-default’s wishes. Trixie demands that-“
I’m not a unicorn, and you’re way out of your league, kid.
> Trixie: “Bwuh, wha, T-T-T-Trixie?!”
> It appears she just realized the obvious loophole in her own plan, going as arrogantly far to stutter her own name.
> Trixie: “Trixie demands-“
Quit demanding. Go home, bucko.
> You turn around when you hear it, a Level *2* Fire Spell: Ring Style;
> If that thing hits you… it would leave one hell of a cigarette burn.
That does it.
> You decide to change the weather with a Level 6 Water Spell: Song of Storms Style.
> It’s suddenly down pouring within seconds, any chance of casting fire spells snuffed up promptly.
Twilight, watch this one. I’ll even say the incantations out loud for you to hear them.
> Twi: “Oh, alright!”
Bajumbo moi noi noi jecker, dabatto bunkergait jun jun-
> Level 3 Earth Spell: Hole Style. Her entire stage, Trixie included, begins to sink below the road, as rain naturally fills into it.
> Trixie: “Bwah! These are nothing compared to Trixie’s uh… aiiieee!”
> She’s swimming now, her platform flooded over, and panicking in the process.
> The two of you watch for a moment before you decide to finally act.
Twilight, can you pick her up for me? I really don’t want to go down there.
> Twilight groans in dissatisfaction as she lifts a soaking wet Trixie out from the pit, leaving her hat sopping over her hair and her cape likely twice as heavy.
> Trixie: “Th… thanks. It’s no wonder why you would save the wonderful Trixie, dohohohohohoACHOO!”
> Oh dear, the obnoxious one may have caught a cold, poor her.
> Trixie: “Professor Anon… Twilight… please, cold, wet…”
> Twi: “Anon, there’s no way we can leave her out here like this, we just turned her stage into a sinkhole; she has nowhere else to go…”
Well, it’s your house, but understand what my answer is to her previous demands.
> Twilight gives a nod as she leads a battered and sneezing Trixie in as you zip through the entity of space, teleporting over to your old pad.
-----
> Fifteen minutes later, after changing in more casual clothes (let it not be said that the storm spell held any particular mercy for you either), you gather the things you plan to bring over, checking of each item from a list.
> Making sure no unhappy situations happen, you cast the magical equivalent of the telephone, preparing to contact Twilight the only way you can.
> Level 4 Low Mystical Magic: Astral Projection, Head Style(?).
> Your sight, originally in your bedroom where it belongs, suddenly shifts overhead the living room of Twilight’s house.
> Trixie and Twilight are enjoying hot tea as your voice booms everywhere.
YOOOOOOOOO.
> Twi: “Holy Celestia, Anon! Quit trying to scare us!”
> Trixie: “???????????”
> You don’t know what gibberish Trixie shouted, but you’re certain that with the face she’s making that you scared the shit out of her; what this spell basically does is project an enlarged hologram of your head, allowing you to talk to people far away while looking like the Wizard of Oz.
> Paint your head green, add some fire spells, and Twilight would be Dorthy! Trixie, eh, she can be Toto.
Hehe, sorry. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t teleport into a pony when I come back. Keep this area clear, alright?
> You make nodding motions towards the open area in question, in which Twilight gives verbal approval.
> Twi: “Alright, see you soon~.”
Try your human form, why don’tcha? You’ve been avoiding it like the plague since last night.
> Her face sours as if her latest book’s sequel was just canceled, clearly not excited a bit to exchange anything of this very topic.
> Twi: “Ugh, maybe later.”
> Trixie: “Professor Anon, Trixie asks politely that-“
> Welcome back to your room, favor courteously avoided! You just can’t wait to go back home now.
-----
> Forty-five seconds of enjoying not being near Trixie, you give a dutiful sigh and cast spells to and fro to send the items into oblivion, held in a spatial storage until otherwise pulled out.
> Having grabbed whatever you needed, you give your home a gracious farewell, returning here only after almost half a year.
Alas, my house, you’ve done no wrong; to have me leave so discourteously~.
> Fun fact: Teleportation is considered both a normal spell and mystical, depending on what you’re doing.
> Teleporting yourself or others a few yards is, unsurprisingly, standard issue for the amateur unicorn; however, it is to be noted that the further you are from the destination, the higher the level spell must be casted.
> It is said that when you’re traveling to an area where you cannot see the destination, such as beyond the horizon, it requires a Low Mystical Spell; having need to pinpoint your location from a position that disallows you to know exactly where it is, you’re forced to rely on your honed magical senses to determine where to go.
> To be able to cast others a distance is also considered a Low Mystical Spell, and to cast a group (including yourself) is the point where it’s considered a Level 1 High Mystical Spell.
> Tough shit to do, yo. Very tiring to accomplish.
> Setting this aside, you return back to the house, the pitter-patter of rain still going about the roof.
> Twi: “Everything go alright?”
Of course, I’m Anon.
> Oh Nayru, you’re starting to sound like Trixie now, it’s catching on. You venture upstairs and find a decent place to put the dresser and bed, whipping them out from nonexistence; you make sure to put a considerable amount of distance between Twilight and your bed, wanting a decent night’s sleep when you’re finally able to have control over your nightly schedule.
> The day when you can sleep under your own bed will be a wondrous one.
> Setting your clothes into the dresser, you make your way to add the final article of furniture;
> Twilight and Trixie, attempting some sort of awkward conversation, are put in yet another moment of sudden shock as the couch disappears beneath them, sending the two onto the floor.
> Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of the dragon mating grounds, a dilapidated couch randomly appears.
-----
> Ushering them out of harm’s way, you give a surprisingly enthusiastic wave of your arms as the new couch materializes itself, smooth fabric and a solid green color lowering itself down onto its four mahogany legs.
> That’s right, motherfucking mahogany. You didn’t even know they had differing tree species until you bought this fine beauty of a comfortable couch; it just screams “sit on me, and your life will be complete”.
> You owe this couch plenty of enjoyable moments, none of which you’re going to describe.
> Anyhow, it takes them several moments to realize what had happened, and an extra instant for Twilight to realize that her beloved couch is forever exiled to the Firelands.
> Twi: “What? No. No! Noooooooooooo~! You idiot, give me my couch back!”
Your couch was a DEMON! That fucker would not let me sleep, and now we have THIS!
> You brandish the soft material, the easily pleasing cushions; the fucking MAHOGANY legs.
Sit here once, and you’ll never think of the damned thing again!
> Twi: “Idiot, IDIOT!”
> Trixie: “Trixie would like to humbly denote that you are crude in your methods of affection.”
Yeah, alright. Thanks, Trixie.
> The two of them resume their spots, both silently agreeing that this thing is a work of the goddesses; it is to your chagrin that Twilight is now bawling over the loss of her beloved departed.
>Taking up the other end of the couch, Twilight now being the middle, you wrap around her as you attempt to console her loss.
Look, Twilight; there was somep0ny who needed a couch, and I figured that I’d surprise you by giving you this one, and having the other donated to charity.
> She looks at you with sparkling eyes, tears streaming all the same.
> Twi: “*Sniff* R-really?”
Of course. They’re probably writing a letter now, thanking you for your kind and generous help.
> This seems to ease her suffering a tad, wiping away the tears.
> Twi: “Well, i-if it helps a pony in need… I guess it’s alright.”
> Trixie, on the other end of the couch, rolls her eyes and sips her tea; she looks oddly normal with her cape and hat hanging elsewhere to dry.
> Apparently she doesn’t buy your story a bit; not that it matters, considering it was sold out thanks to Twilight.
-----
> Meanwhile, an ancient female dragon found the couch chilling around, and began using it as a dildo of sorts.
> No one will ever know.
-----
Alright, so we have two situations here right now; mind if I lay them down?
> Twi: “Of course.”
So, the first issue is that we have a unicorn that wishes to either kill me or force me to teach her.
> Trixie: “Trixie is more than prepared to pay a higher price than whatever this Twilight mare is offering in order to have you as Trixie’s teacher.”
> Twi: “How kind of you. More tea?”
> Let the words drip with venom, Twilight, she deserves it.
Trixie, sweetheart, Princess Celestia is footing the bill, and I want to say that you’re going to have trouble outdoing the royalty of Equestria.
> Trixie: “Pr-Princess Celestia?! Trixie is shocked! But, Trixie is more than-“
Stop with the 3rd person, or I’m going to kick you out into the rain.
> Twi: “You could stop that spell anytime now, y’know; we probably have a pool in front of the house at this point.”
I like rain, but my point still stands.
> Trixie: “Ugh, fine! Tr… I still have things to offer that Princess Celestia could never hope to offer.”
> You raise an eyebrow, clearly suspicious at this suggestion.
And what would that be, Trixie?
> Twi: “You don’t mean…?”
> Trixie: “I would give anything to be trained under the notorious and infamous Professor Anon, renown for learning and being able to cast almost every spell known. This includes Trixie’s- I mean, my own body, of course.”
> It was simultaneously that both you and Twilight facepalm at the suggestion of prostitution paid education.
Trixie, I can’t do that. Besides, Twilight and I have made a pact-
> Twi: “I think it’s fine that you teach her, Anon, but her payment plan is stupid. So long as she doesn’t try anything funny with you, I’m ok with it.”
> Trixie: “Trixie would like to say-“
First person, please.
> Trixie: “…I would like to say that I was not aware that Twilight Sparkle was romantically interested in this creature, and humbly apologize.”
> Twi: “That’s fine, Trix- WHAT?!”
> Oh heavens, what have you done Trixie? You exit the couch’s perimeter as it turns into a battlefield of wits.
> Twi: “I don’t like Anon like that, I just don’t think you should be offering him such… services…!”
> Trixie swings her mane about, as if the small gust created from it is to slap Twilight in the face.
> Trixie: “Please, it’s obvious that you have the hots for him; why else would you discuss giving me his bed so you two can share yours?”
WHOOOAAAAAA there, you fuckers were discussing this already?
> Two’s a battle, three’s a war. That’s what your grandma said, anyways.
> Twi: “Look, I just figured that if Trixie’s intention is to learn-“
> Trixie: “Of course it’s to learn, I need to become better than you, and that confounded school won’t accept me with my credentials!”
> Modest as always! On a side note, it appears these two have a background of sorts.
> Twi: “Look, I’m trying to help you! Why are you accusing me of liking Anon!”
> Trixie: “You’re blushing, haha!”
> Twi: “Idiot! At least I’m not acting like some mare of the moon, running around and offering sex as payment!”
> Trixie: “Well sorry if I have trouble obtaining funds, Ms. I-Suck-Off-My-Princess’s-Bits!”
> Motherfucking lightning strikes in the background at these words, the grim eye contact between the two more dangerous spell either of them have yet to cast.
Look, you two, just stop-
> The front door dramatically swings open just thunder booms about, a drenched Spike waddling in and observing the likely petty sight; Twilight’s pissed, Trixie’s haughty, and the look on your face could easily signify meditative.
> Spike: “Fight?”
Fight.
> Spike: “I’m going to sweep something then.”
-----
> Guess who is now in the middle of the couch now? Thaaaat’s right, you.
>Trixie’s to the right, Twilight’s to the left; both are inaudibly sipping their tea with respective magic.
Alright, you two are seriously killing me.
> Twi: “What did I do?”
You fell for her arrogance, first off. I’ll be honest, I don’t like that she’s an obnoxious little prick-
> Trixie: “Hey, I-“
Shut up.
> Trixie: “… Hmph.”
And she needs to learn both politeness and humility. If you honestly want her here, then you need to learn to tolerate her better. Do you understand, Twi?
> Twi: “I… I guess so. Sorry for snapping at you, Trixie.”
> Trixie: “Trixie accepts apology.”
> Old habits die ruthlessly hard.
Trixie, if Twilight allows me to teach you alongside her, understand that you will have to keep up. You will have to take responsibilities that she will not in form of payment.
> Trixie: “Tr…(you glare at her) I would like to ask what these responsibilities include.”
> Twi: “Yes, so do I.”
> They’re both ogling you like you’re suggesting something perverted; do they really hold you at that sort of standard?
> Well, ignoring the fact that one offered her body, and the other one was masturbating to you, you can’t help but feel mutual on the topic.
*Ahem*. You will be in charge of cleaning and cooking from here on out.
> Trixie: “You’re going to make me, the GREAT and POWERFUL Trixie, into a maid?! How rude of you to even suggest it!”
Your first job is to take the tea pot and the cups back to the kitchen, and do the dishes.
> You lower your head to her, as if stating that this is her ultimatum; clean, or leave.
> Trixie: “Sigh. Fine, I understand, but Trixie will be first to eat, no matter what! Also, you’ll have to make your own tea, I refuse to do it!”
> Whatever, you can handle a stipulation or two, nodding and chuckling as she irritatedly moves the dishes towards the kitchen.
As for you, Ms. Twilight Sparkle…
> She presses against you, trying to get some sort of brownie points for whatever deed she wants.
> Twi: “Time to learn a new spell?”
Tomorrow, today is a vacation day to relax for learning the transformation spell.
> Twi: “Yeah, about that.”
About that.
> Twi: “I don’t like it as much anymore, it scares me.”
> Like a child hurt from playing with fire, Twilight too shows the same reaction to learning the effects of abusing magic; fear, rejection, and anxiety.
Twilight, these things happen, that was probably the first time you used a spell that continually consumed mana.
> Twi: “I know, but that feeling, it was so… so horrible…”
Twilight, every unicorn will experience it once or twice. If I think you’re getting near it, I promise that I’ll intervene, alright?
> Twi: “Pinkie Promise?”
If that’s like anything in my old world, then yes.
> You grab her in a hug, holding her tight.
I can’t let my idiot student keep hurting herself, anyways.
> Twi: “I won’t be an idiot student soon, and then I’ll be REALLY able to call you an idiot teacher!”
You think so, eh? Good luck with that one.
> You both giggle like schoolgirls as Trixie ignores the blatantly romantic scene from the kitchen.
> Trixie: “Trixie would like to point out to anyone who will listen that it’s rude not to wash your dish before putting it in the sink.”
> No one was paying attention, much to her annoyance.
-----
> Several hours later of reading and talking about “class” tomorrow, you lift up the giant hole in the road containing Trixie’s soggy stage, which pathetically attempts to minimalize itself and sit next to the house.
> The moon slowly rising from the horizon, night soon falls upon you and you make your way into your new set of pajamas.
> Trixie, excited to have her own bed for the first time in years apparently, enthusiastically jumps on your mattress and wiggles under your personal comforter.
That is mine, but you’re welcomed to use it while you stay here. Just be gentle with it, it’s an antique bed.
> Trixie: “Trixie will… take good care of… bed…z…zzz…”
> And she’s out faster that a lightbulb facing off with a hammer, and just as interestingly too.
> Turning to Twilight, who is looking up at you expectantly, you sit on the bed and grin at her.
Human form, please. I need to adjust sleeping with another, and it would help if you were the same species… if only for a couple nights.
> Twi: “Anon, you saw what happened when I tried to stay in human form for too long…”
You have me this time; I’ll show you a cool trick.
> Giving you a skeptical look for a decent stretch, she yields and gives it a shot; although a bit slow on the process, she still manages to pull through and is back in her pajama top and… underwear only below, bottoms lacking in most senses.
I forgot that’s all you were wearing, holy crap.
> She giggles, smiling sheepishly with a seductive blush to boot.
> Twi: “Is this alright? Don’t think dirty, idiot~!”
> It’s not helping that she doesn’t have a bra, and her nipples are poking at the thin silk top.
Duh, gah. Yeah, let’s get this over with.
> You jump into bed, getting under the single blanket; you’re fighting a losing battle with Excalibur trying to unsheathe itself.
> Twilight, smiling in glee at this actually happening, slides under the covers next to you, looking at you innocently and with the purest smile one could muster.
> Twi: “This will be great for research~!”
Yeah, well, turn around. Until you can master sleeping in human form, you’re going to have to have your back to me.
> Twi: “But, but whyyyyy?!”
> It appears she wanted to watch you sleep or something, which there is NO chance in hell that THAT is going to happen.
Just turn around, and let me show you the spell I have ready.
> Trying to mentally plead with you, she finally huffs and surrenders, flipping around and ravishing her hair against your face; you politely set it aside, momentarily enjoying the scent of some sort of flower.
> Twi: “Whoops, hehe, sor- whoa!”
> You brush your arm between the mattress and her, and place the other arm over her side.
Low Mystical Spell, Level 2: Channeling Style. Grab my hands.
> She wastes little time in doing so, and with both set of palms connected, you passively channel energy through her.
> Twi: “This… is… wow…”
While it’s not exactly useful in pony form, I learned that as humans I can act as a magic generator for you. I am able to hold transformation for about two weeks now, so lending you enough for a night won’t bother me. Are you comfortable?
> Twi: “Y-yes… thank you, Anon…”
Don’t worry about it, just enjoy your sleep; I most certainly will.
> Unbeknownst to you, you refer to the idea of sleeping on a bed being quite enjoyable while she was under the impression that you meant the two of you being together like this.
> Nonetheless, the affection being two way was evident anyhow, and she presses into your body lovingly.
> Twi: “Good night, Anon.”
Good night, Twi.
> About a minute passed before your worst fears were confirmed.
> Twi: “… Anon?”
Mmm?
> Twi: “Something is poking into my… I think they’re called underwear? Is that your… your…?”
> Excalibur: “EXCALIBUR! EXCALIBUR! FROM THE UNITED KING, I’M LOOKING FOR HER! I’M GOING TO CALIFORNIA!”
> Sigh. Why?
Twilight, just pretend it’s not there.
> Did she REALLY have to press her hips into your crotch?
> Twi: “Alright~<3”
> Fucking Twilight Sparkle, you swear sometimes.
> You’re writing one hell of the letter to the Princess for this one.
> The end.