Breakfast

>Just another ordinary day in Equestria for Anon; you sit at the table and eat a bowl of Honeycombs with your moth pony roommate.
>Well, you eat it, she drinks it.
>Whatever.
>It's impolite to speak while chewing, so the two of you sit in silence.
>Time to ponder life's greatest mysteries.
>...
>Your brain doesn't feel like working today, apparently.
>That's fine, you'll find your own inspiration.
>You scan the room for any simple object or idea to ponder.
>The moth pony sitting next to you, the milk on the table, spoon in your hand, the Honeycombs you're eating...
>Where does that milk come from? Aren't cows sentient in Equestria?
>...
>Moving away from that thought, you weigh your other options.
>You glance at your spoon, wondering what metal it's made from.
>Unfortunately, you run out of interesting thought points with that, leaving only your roommate and the Honeycombs.
>Miles Edgeworth logic time, time to put the two together.
>As the pieces of logic swirl together in the air, you hold your breath, hoping you don't hear that defeating sound of failure.
>The two pieces of logic touch.
>Time stands still.
>...
>A bright light envelopes you and your mind is filled with a new thought!
"Hey, if moth ponies exist, do bee ponies exist also?"
>Your moth turns up to look at you. Her face shows no emotion at all; you can't decipher what she's thinki- Oh, wait, she's slowly lowering her eyelids.
>And scowling.
>Uh oh.
>"Anon."
"Yes?"
>She grabs the back of your head and smashes it into the bowl, breaking it and spilling the rest of its contents across the table.
>"That is the single most idiotic thing I've heard in my life. You should be ashamed of yourself."
>She then walks away as if nothing happened.
>Today, you cried over spilled milk.

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>So starts another beautiful day in Equestria. You'd attempt to put any sort of description on the day thus far, but
you really haven't been paying attention.
>Were the birds chirping? You don't know.
>Was the sun shining brightly? Maybe.
>Was your moth pony roommate waiting patiently for you to finish dipping your peanut butter sandwich in the milk so she could drink it? Well... yes.
>Luckily for you, she isn't staring directly at you.
>That gaze could kill lesser men.
>Instead, she's staring off into the distance. And by distance, it's really just the closest doorway.
>Being subtle about waiting for someone.
>With that great hint, you take the sandwich out of the milk and bite into it.
>Sweet peanut buttery goodness.
>While you savor the flavor, the moth sitting next to you turns back around, picks up the cup, and drinks the milk.
>You have to try to make up for the last breakfast you had together. The whole "Honeycomb" thing. Maybe you can get her to tell you more about herself.
>Or anything at all, really.
>You don't even know her name.
>But every time you ask, she just stares at you.
>That stare could kill lesser men.
>You should make some like-ground. Something you have in common, besides breakfast.
"So..." you start, "what do you do for fun?"
>Her eyes meet yours.
>Oh no...
>ABORT. STARE ACTIVATED.
>Your insides churn as you look into her eyes; your mind goes blank; your body goes numb...
>"... I enjoy silent moonlit walks on the beach when no one else is around to disturb me. It's... soothing."
>She looks away and her eyes seem more delicate than before.
>You calm down as you no longer fear for your life. Maybe you can befriend the mare yet.
>At that moment, you decide you'll take her to the beach tonight.
>The beach. The one most definitely near where the two of you live.
>You haven't seen a single beach since you entered Equestria.
>This will be difficult.

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>You sit at your table of glorious breakfast food-eating.
>Instead of being awake and rejuvenated, like you usually are in the morning, you are tired beyond belief.
>You spent too much of last night trying to sneakily look for beaches near you on maps. Not only did you find none, you're fairly certain your moth pony roommate found out.
>... You also need something to call her besides "moth pony roommate".
>This tired breakfast is Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
>Should you ask her the obvious question? It's tempting but she'll probably kill you.
>You'll avoid that for now.
>You've downed a few bowls by now, and the sugar is giving you a bit of a headache.
>It seems to be affecting her as well.
>Apparently, Cinnamon Toast Crunch is good for neither of you.
>She looks in disgust as she finishes the milk in the bowl.
>"Anon?"
"Yes?"
>"Can we please never have that horrid filth again?"
>Ouch. Yeah, it gave you a headache, but it still tasted okay...
"Well, I'm not just going to let the rest of it go to waste..."
>Eye contact, stare activate.
>THIS IS TRULY THE END OF TIMES.
>LIFE IS KILL. LIFE IS KI-
>"Uhg... fine, whatever. Don't expect me to drink the milk for you." She growls and looks into the distance.
>Well. It seems you live another day.
>You get up from the table, pick up every ingredient in your headache-inducing breakfast and put the dishes in the sink, the milk in the refrigerator and the cereal in the cabinet.
>You don't remember when the last time you actually made food was.
>If you were a pony, your Cutie Mark would not involve cooking.
>Or... anything. You don't really excel at anything.
>Feels bad...
>... Wait, Cutie Mark... What's her Cutie Mark?
>You stealthily glance at her flank.
>She's wearing a skirt.
>... Was she always wearing that? How did you not notice?
>... Will you have to sneak a peak if/when she takes it off?
>She will certainly kill you if you do.
>Conflicting emotions will get you killed.
>Just another day.

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>In your hand this day is a spatula.
>Not a spoon.
>It feels weird.
>Weird feeling will not stop you from attempting to actually make food for the first time since you entered Equestria.
>The menu: eggs.
>Just over easy eggs.
>Don't want to strain yourself.
>The stove's ablaze, the pan is hot and buttered, an egg is cracked and pouring in...
>It's show-time.
>The egg spreads perfectly in each direction.
>Everything was lined up for you to make the best eggs of all time.
>Sizzling egg, so mesmerizing...
>"Anon."
>WELL, NOT HAVING A HEART ATTACK.
>NOPE.
>"Are you going to flip that ever?"
>It's been in the pan for half-a-minute...
"It has to cook first."
>"I like my food under-done."
>Your argument is gone in a FLASH.
>AAAH.
>"Anon."
"Fine Jeez!"
>Your spatula digs under a bit of the egg.
>And stops.
>...
>Uh...
>You push a little harder to get under the egg.
>The whole egg begins to flip on itself.
>GO BACK GO BACK STOP IT.
>The egg is no longer in jeopardy, but your spatula is exactly where it was before.
>This will be difficult.
>"Are you incompetent? Just shove the spatula under the egg. It's not that difficult."
>Rage mode activate.
>You're tired of her always berating you! You won't let her be so mean to you! You'll tell her what-for!
>But first, this stupid egg!
>With all of your anger, you shove the spatula farther under the egg until the entire egg is in your control.
>...
>Anger fading, realization kicking in.
>She was right.
>You can feel the glare pointed in your direction.
>Don't look.
>Don't look!
>YOU LOOKED.
>Your head jerks back toward the egg.
>At least it doesn't want to kill you.
>Probably.
>Thoughts of your moth-mate is a knife aside, this egg is getting flipped.
>You swiftly spin your weapon of choice to press the egg back into the pan.
>Repeat process, the egg is flipped onto a plate for her to eat.
>She simply pokes the yoke and drinks the fluid, leaving the rest for you.
>Now you clean her leftovers.
>The table has turned.
>Hm...

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>This was it: the last straw.
>You hold a knife in your hand.
>No more insults; no more pain; you'll get what you deserve and so will she.
>You're in control now.
>And you decide to eat toast.
>The only solid food she eats comes from your closet, so you'll be eating breakfast alone today.
>That'll show her.
>You spread butter on your lightly toasted... toast, basking in the glory of such a simple food.
>It almost helps you forget about the angry moth pony glaring at you from the table.
>This isn't your brightest idea.
>You wonder how long it'll take for someone to find your body.
>After completely ruining your state of euphoria with thoughts of getting horribly slaughtered, you take a bite of the toast.
>It's really good.
>Like a mix of fluffy and crisp, while buttered lightly to add a bit of flavor.
>It's really good and little miss pissed-moth can't have any.
>"Anon, are you done throwing your little temper tantrum? You still haven't made anything for me."
>And you most certainly won't. Not today, at least.
>You turn to face her, ready to rub the sensation in her moth... face.
>Just looking into her eyes makes yours burn.
>You are most certainly scared, but you can't let her know that.
>You roll a d20 to act calm and collected.
>17.
>Once in a while, you can actually roll high numbers.
"I don't know what you're talking about; I'm just making myself some," you drag out your next word, "delicious... food."
>"Nothing you make can be delicious."
>Ouch. That... actually hurt.
>Not as much as hunger will hurt her! You eat the rest of your toast, staring intently at her as she slowly moves closer to you.
>... Wait, closer? As in, she can kill you much easier?
>All of the sudden, you're in a state of panic.
>BE A MAN.
>YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER.
>She flutters up to you so your faces are only an inch apart.
>This'll be the day that you die.
>Your vision clouds over as tears fill your eyes.
>It didn't have to be this way.
>You're shoved to the ground but caught before your head hits.
>Then dropped.
>She's standing over you, face to face, while you're laying flat on the ground.
>Your heart is racing. You open your mouth to inhale deeper.
>Her glare alone will kill you.
>She then... puts her mouth on yours.
>What.
>You thought there would be death, not kissi- THERE IS A TONGUE INVADING YOUR MOUTH.
>Is it... IT'S GOING DOWN YOUR THROAT. THIS FEELS WEIRD.
>You can feel her tongue playing with your insides. It sounds like she's... drinking from your stomach.
>All you can do is lay there and wait for her to finish.
>After a minute or two, she reels out of you and stares deep into your fearful eyes.
>"You used too much butter."
>She then walks away as though nothing happened.
>You're now certain you shouldn't fear her killing you.
>You should fear her slowly torturing you while keeping you just alive enough for you to feel it.
>You cried in that spot on the floor for almost an hour.

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>You are alive.
>Absolutely terrified, but alive.
>You have a spoon in your hand. In front of you is a bowl filled with Reese's Puffs.
>Not just because you like them, but also because if you don't have something with a liquid, your moth-mate will stomach-rape you again.
>You lost a few pounds crying that day.
>You won't allow yourself to make the mistake of getting on her bad side again.
>That, however, begs two questions.
>Are you always on her bad side?
>Does she even have a good side?
>Either way, these Puffs are getting soggy.
>Don't delay, she might kill you.
>You scarf down the Puffs, quick to please the moth-o-war right next to you.
>The bowl now only contains milk. You smile at your victory.
>"What's gotten in to you, Anon?" Her words are painful to hear. You can even feel the sarcasm dripping off each word. "You'd never do that for me. What could have possibly happened to change you so?"
>Your eyes meet hers. She isn't staring at you, she's actually looking at you with soft eyes.
>But you can tell: If she ever smiled, she would smile a smile able to boil blood.
>She's trying to get under your skin.
>She's successfully getting under your skin.
>You simply turn away from her, waiting for her to finish drinking so you can put the bowl in the sink to be washed.
>She puts it down with a content look on her face. Without missing a beat, she lets out a sigh and looks up to you.
>"Anon."
>You'd rather not speak. She's pissing you off, but you can't do anything about it. If you tried, she's destroy you, you're certain.
>Regretfully, you try to make your voice as not-dripping-with-disdain as possible.
"Yes?"
>In just one word, you conveyed all of your actual emotions. You didn't hide it in the slightest.
>Luckily, she doesn't seem to care about your emotions toward her. She keeps eye-contact with you and speaks softly.
>"I'd like another bowl."
>You'll cry it out later. For now, more breakfast.

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>On this day, you feel odd.
>Odd physically and odd mentally.
>Physically as in your body just feels weird and mentally as in you are very conflicted.
>Mostly with your moth-mate.
>Usually, the two of you slept at opposite sides of your bed. However, you woke up in the middle of the night to find her curled up in your embrace.
>It may have been fully in sleep, but she was the submissive one.
>You find it odd to think of her that way.
>And you are conflicted.
>Also, the second bowl of Fruity Pebbles isn't nearly as good as the first. Actually, the first wasn't really good either.
>The moth sitting next to you notices your disgusted expression.
>"It's not that bad."
>You simply stare at her.
"You can be the judge of it; I'm done."
>Conveniently, you had finished the Pebbles at that moment. In the bowl now is just the milk, a few Pebbles and the excess sugar.
>It'll probably be worse for her than it was for you.
>Her eyes harden.
>Wait, did you just challenge her?
>No going back. You're in over your head.
>She picks up the bowl, still staring directly into your eyes. Her tongue enters the milk as she drinks.
>You try to keep your eyes to hers, but her tongue is the only thing moving, so your gaze is drawn toward it.
>That tongue has been in your stomach.
>... Your mental anguish has increased.
>Your eyes shoot back up to hers as the milk is almost gone.
>And she finishes it without taking her eyes off you.
>No pain at all. You lost again.
>"Anon."
>You really need to stop putting yourself in these situations. Reluctantly, you answer.
"Y-yes?"
>"You were right."
>...
>What?
>...
>No, seriously.
>"That cereal is far too sugary. I say we avoid it from now on."
>She... admitted to being wrong.
>Your heart gets a bit lighter in your chest.
"I'd be fine with that."
>It was a better day than usual.

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>You are in a trance. Or... at least very deep in thought.
>Whatever.
>You're currently eating a bowl of Corn Flakes, but your mind is elsewhere.
>Actually, you're thinking about the moth pony sitting next to you.
>Mainly about what she was wearing to bed.
>You'd woken up once again in the middle of the night to find her cuddling up to you, so you decided to take advantage of the situation.
>At the time, you thought you'd finally see her Cutie Mark.
>You knew she wasn't still wearing her skirt, and there's no way her panties would fully cover her flank.
>What you didn't expect, however, was to find on her body a pair of your boxers.
>Not any random boxers she could buy, they were most definitely yours.
>It put many weird thoughts into your head.
>Back to your now-empty bowl of Corn Flakes.
>They were pretty bland.
>Still more edible than the too-sugary things.
>Your moth-mate picks up the bowl to down the milk.
>She looks pretty uninterested.
>She looks pretty...
>Your mind is attempting to come up with more words to describe her but you find none.
>Were you intending to end that sentence with just "pretty"?
>Now that you notice, she's really cute. Like, really cute.
>Before, you were too focused on how terrifying she can be. Now, however...
>Actually, you haven't really been afraid of her in a while. She's gotten mad at you less often than before.
>Are the two of you finally growing accustomed to each other?
>She's actually been doing things to get on your good side, and you've been doing things to get on hers.
>Both of you are working toward actually enjoying time with the other. Is this... intentional?
>You feel a bit warmer and you smile.
>"Anon."
>Then proceed to fall out of your chair.
>You land heavily.
>When you open your eyes, all you see is your moth-mate's.
>"What's with the stare?" Her eyes are cold and dark. "You just can't keep your eyes off me, can you?"
>Just another average day.

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>Ugh.
>It's just... ugh.
>Frosted Mini-Wheats.
>A mix of straight sugar and bland.
>You just finished your half of breakfast and have passed it off to your moth-mate.
>You've eaten many cereals you once thought were good. Now, only half of them remain on you're "Good List".
>If the sugary parts and the bland parts were mixed instead of separate, it'd be fine!
>But no, everything has to be an extremist.
>You stare at the box of cereal.
>It stares back at you, uncaring.
>You pour your disdain into it, but it feels nothing.
>It cares not for your suffering.
>It's a cardboard box.
>...
>A fit of coughing takes you out of your childish trance.
>You look over to the moth next to you.
>She has one hoof on her throat and is coughing wildly.
>Your brain stops functioning.
>Time feels as though it slows around you, but everything else is moving in fast-forward.
>It's happening.
>...
>She's choking on something! Do something!
>DO SOMETHING!
>Just as your body catches up with your brain, she lets out a cough more powerful than the rest then stops.
>She looks down and clears her throat.
>The world is silent.
>She slowly looks up at you.
>You notice she looks exhausted, like she'd just finished running a mile.
>Not walking a mile.
>Not jogging a mile.
>Running a mile.
>"A-Anon?"
>She sounds horrible. Her voice sounds more scratched than a record at a Disk Jockey Extravaganza.
>You wonder if "Disk Jockey Extravaganza" is an actual thing.
>Probably.
>Oh wait, a mare in pain is in front of you.
>DJ can wait.
"Y-yes?"
>"Can we... stop having solid things floating in the milk?"
>Of course. Mini-Wheats are just a bunch of wheat-things compacted together into a barrel-ish shape. They come apart all the time.
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea."
>She looks a bit calmer. Relieved, maybe?
>"Thank you, Anon."
>She just thanked you. Maybe you are making progress.
>... Wait, all you have left is solid foods.
>You go pale and the world goes dark around you.

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>You have no cereal.
>You have no eggs.
>You even ran out of milk.
>All you have left is solid foods for breakfast.
>You were so far in denial, you searched for an hour around your entire house, hoping against the worst you'd find something your moth-mate wouldn't have to pump your stomach for.
>You found nothing.
>Now you sit in your chair, crying over your last waffle.
>Your moth-mate is staring directly at you.
>You can't look back to her.
>It's all over.
>"It's your own fault for not buying more food."
>You kept on forgetting. If you could go back in time and buy anything to help you avoid this situation, you would.
>But you can't.
>Thus, you cry as you finish the waffle.
>...
>There's nothing left.
>Nothing left keeping her from invading your stomach with her tongue.
>You feel a tap on your side.
>"Anon~"
>She's patronizing you.
>Fantastic.
>Slowly, you turn to face her.
>Her eyes are at yours. She isn't staring, that would kill you, her eyes are... gentle. They're... comforting.
>Very out of place, for someone who's about to...
>You shudder.
>"Oh, come on, Anon. It won't be too unenjoyable."
>She licks her lips as she brings her mouth closer to yours.
>"... For me."
>She grabs hold of your body and brings you in closer.
>Your mouth touches hers.
>Both are open.
>Chills go down your spine.
>It's happening.
>Within moments, you feel her tongue dance around your mouth.
>It... feels nice.
>Then it reaches your throat.
>It doesn't stop.
>Her tongue slowly makes its way down, until it reaches your food-box.
>... Food-pit?
>... Food... level...
>Stomach.
>Whatever.
>You both sit, frozen, as she drinks from you.
>Your eyes closed long ago. You can't see anything nor can you cry.
>The tears dried up long ago.
>All pain you feel is no longer liquid.
>It's full emotion.
>You hear your moth-mate moan.
>Not a moan of pain, or hurt, it sounded more like...
>Pleasure...
>She stopped drinking from you, that much, you can tell.
>Did...
>Did she...
>Is she enjoying this?
>...
>Time stands still.
>...
>She shoves the two of you apart as her tongue retreats from you.
>You fumble in your seat, trying to regain balance.
>Once you've gained control, you're able to see her again. Instead of a predator, you see a blushing mare.
>She's wide-eyed.
>You are too.
>The two of you just sit there, staring into each other's eyes.
>Your mind is blank.
>Her mouth is agape.
>You can tell she's trying to piece together something to say.
>She has been for the passed minute.
>Still nothing.
>...
>She coughs and looks away.
>"A-Anon, you should go out and buy more food. Y-you know, t-to keep your stomach safe."
>Was she trying to sound in-control there?
>Because she didn't.
>Her voice is shaking just as much as her body.
>You look away from her.
"Y-yeah. I'll... go do that."
>You get up from your chair, face the door and walk.
>Wait, you have to get some money first.
>Not even in the perfect land of Equestria are things free.
>As smoothly as you can, you spin around, hopefully out of sight of your moth-mate, and go around her to one of the doorways to other rooms.
>As you leave the kitchen/dining room, you hear something hit the table.
>You glance back.
>It was her head.
>It was a less-than-normal breakfast.

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>You're greatly disturbed by what you now call "The Waffle Incident", but you soldier on.
>But your moth-mate has made a full recovery.
>You get trauma and she's perfectly fine.
>Because that's fair.
>You look at the pop-tart in your hand.
>It'd totally agree with you.
>If it could talk.
>Or think.
>Whatever.
>Point is, you're finishing up your Brown Sugar Cinnamon Pop-tarts and are sliding the milk to your moth-mate.
>No more solid foods for breakfast.
>... Though, you couldn't find very many in the market.
>Most were sold out before you got to them.
>But that doesn't matter. You'll just have to check for different breakfast foods later.
>Constantly.
>Every day until you die.
>Or, until the situation is resolved.
>Either way, you don't even have a week's supply of breakfast left.
>You have quite a lot of juice, though.
>Unfortunately, juice isn't breakfast.
>It's lunch.
>And dinner.
>And... juice.
>A refreshed sigh startles you.
>It came from your moth-mate. She looks content after finishing the milk.
>Her eyes meet yours.
>...
>The two of you sit in an awkward sile-
>"Anon."
>... Your body starts constricting.
>Looking into her eyes seems to be killing you.
>OH WAIT SHE LOOKS PISSED OFF.
>THATS A STARE.
>IT'S BEEN A WHILE.
>And now you're dying inside.
>Goodness, your vision is blurry.
>"Anon!"
>The force of her shout shoves you out of your chair.
>Now you're just a mess on the floor.
>There are no open doors.
>No one is walking the dinosaur.
>Eyes stare down at you.
>"Stop staring at me. It's annoying."
>With that, she leaves the room.
>You get a good glimpse of her skirt, though.
>It's frilly.
>Like, really frilly.
>It's frills have frills.
>You wonder how someone so terrifying could dress like that.
>That stupid Waffle Incident lost a lot of room in your relationship.
>...
>Relationship? Like, friends.
>Being friends is more difficult now.
>That is what you mean.
>The rest of the day is spent really hoping that's what you meant.

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>You are running out.
>You can't find anything at the market.
>You'll be forced to have solids for breakfast.
>And then...
>No, you'll figure something out... right?
>You've just finished your first bowl of Rice Krispies.
>They're... okay, not amazing, not bad.
>Time for another bowl.
>You pick up the box and tilt it to pour.
>All of the sudden, the bowl, and part of the table, is covered in cereal.
>You spilled the entire box's contents on the table.
>Most of it went in the bowl, but the rest...
>Some of it actually made its way into your lap.
>You can already feel your moth-mate mocking you.
>Don't say anything...
>Please, don't say anything...
>"Wow, Anon, you've been a whirlwind of sucking at things lately, haven't you?"
>Fantastic.
>Oh, and you hit your head walking up some stairs yesterday.
>And you broke a lamp while reading the newspaper.
>And... many other various things.
>It's been pretty bad.
>Fortunately, you still have a way to fix this.
>You get up from your chair and head to the cabinets. Inside, you find a bowl big enough for the amount in the current bowl.
>You get it, sit back down and pour the old bowl into the new bowl.
>See? You can still make good of a bad situation.
>That didn't clean up what was spilled outside of the bowl, but still.
>You'll... get it later.
>You eat the cereal uneventfully and pass the bowl with very little milk in it for your moth-mate.
>You glance over to her.
>She's looking directly into your eyes.
>You can't look away.
>Does she trust you this little?
>She has to keep looking at you to make sure you don't do anything.
>She actually trusts you this little.
>...
>Trust...
>That stupid Waffle Incident.
>The two of you have made too much negative progress since then. All was well, then it happened.
>You want to get passed it. Not just for your sake but for both of you.
"H-hey..."
>You'll have to congratulate yourself on this amazing start later.
>By bashing your face into a wall.
>You soldier on anyway.
"I know we used to be a lot closer than this. We were actually growing together, then that..." You search for a good adjective. "... stupid..." You didn't find any. "Waffle... thing."
>You start rethinking this attempt.
>Obviously, you should have thought of this more before trying it.
>But you'll stick to your guns.
"I... I know it's pretty much my fault. If I'd bought more cereal and milk and... stuff, that wouldn't have happened at all. I just... I just want to say: I'm sorry."
>You wait patiently for her to react.
>A few seconds pass, still nothing.
>You're looking directly at her.
>Time to roll for Sense Motive.
>Because why not?
>No bonuses, because you have all of the wrong boosts.
>Flat d20.
>You roll...
>12.
>You notice she is rather calm, but she seems to be hiding something. You have no clue what, but she is most certainly hiding something.
>It's probably related to the Waffle Incident.
>If she wants to tell you ever, she will.
>Hopefully.
>She sighs, puts down the bowl and looks away.
>"Anon..."
>You wait on baited breath.
>"It's okay."
>...
>It's okay.
>Is she... forgiving you?
>Her gaze slowly meets its way to your eyes.
>It's... soft, understanding, even.
>Her eyes...
>You've seen them so many times before, but never have they seemed so... beautiful.
>"Anon?"
>You swear you aren't going to cry.
>You swear that wasn't a lie.
"Yes?"
>She wraps you in a tight hug.
>She's warm and comforting.
>"... Thank you."
>You don't know exactly why she's thanking you, but you know she has to have a good reason.
>You put your arms around her, returning the hug.
>It was a day of great recovery.

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>You hope you can get something from the market today, because you're just finishing the very last cereal you have.
>Golden Grahams.
>You don't even remember eating them, but they were almost completely gone when you found them.
>So if you can't find anything today, tomorrow's breakfast will be...
>No matter, you will find something.
>Now, to these Golden Grahams.
>It's like s'mores, without the melted marshmallow and chocolate.
>And add cold milk.
>Not very enjoyable.
>The initial taste is... okay, but the aftertaste is horrid.
>One last spoonful to go...
>You bite down on the last liquid-type breakfast you have in your house.
>You believe it'll all be okay.
>You have to find a way.
>To make it all okay.
>Until then, you slide the bowl of graham cracker milk to your moth-mate.
>Oh, here's the aftertaste.
>You wince and try to adjust your taste buds.
>Because that's absolutely possible.
>You let out a disgusted sigh.
>Maybe you should warn her...
"Hey, you might want to-"
>You're disrupted by the sound of the chair next to you wobbling.
>You look over to see what's up.
>Your moth-mate is shaking violently.
>Like, she's freaking out and has no control.
>LIKE NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO DO SOMETHING.
>UNLIKE LAST TIME.
>You aren't just going to sit idly by like you did when she was choking.
>You're going to do something.
>You get ready and...
>...
>What are you supposed to do?
>YOU AREN'T DOING ANYTHING.
>Your mind races as you try to figure out what to-
>SHE'S FALLING.
>AAAAAAA-
>You grab her by her torso and pull her in for a tight hug.
>Even if you can't do anything about her condition, you can still make sure no outside forces mess with her.
>Her shaking sends shivers down your spine, but you won't let her go.
>...
>A minute passes and she slowly calms down.
>The shaking stops.
>The only sound in the room is the sound of her tired breathing.
>You feel her move in your grasp.
>Careful not to move, you glance down to her.
>She's snuggled against your chest, much like she does when you sleep.
>Aw...
>How is she so cute?
>"A-Anon?"
>Her voice is shaking, like she's shivering.
>She sounds like she's cold.
>You have a moth who needs your attention.
>All other thoughts are now on hold.
"Yes?"
>She presses herself against you even more.
>"Th-thank you."
>She's been thanking you more recently.
>It's almost like she actually appreciated you.
>You feel something wet against your chest.
>She's sounds like she's sobbing...
>...
>She's crying in your embrace.
>She's crying.
>Maybe your brain is jumping to conclusions. You certainly can't see her crying. You just... feel it, and hear it, and...
>Her sobs increase in intensity.
>Whatever caused this must have been devastating...
>"Anon?"
>Her voice is now scratched beyond belief.
"Yes?"
>"... I-" She coughs for a few seconds, then continues. "I'm sorry..."
>What?
>What, even...
>"Th-the grahams..."
>... The Golden Grahams.
>Your confusion isn't going away any time soon.
>You just hold her close and allow her to speak.
>"They reminded me of... the cold..."
>The cold...
>"S-so c-cold..."
>Maybe that's why she bundles up when it's not even really cold out, she physically has low cold-tolerance.
"Wait..."
>You aren't letting this illogical point get through.
"How did the Golden Grahams trigger that?"
>She stays quiet for a bit.
>She isn't sobbing anymore, but you can still feel her tears.
>"One time, I was camping in the forest. I made a little fire for myself and was fixing some s'mores. Th-then, my fire went out, and it was so cold... I couldn't keep warm, so I just ran."
>The two of you sit there.
>"... I don't know how I survived. I... I can't remember."
>You can't even imagine what that must have been like.
>"Anon?"
>Her voice was soft, and gentle, and...
>Cute.
"Yes?"
>Third time that's happened today.
>"... Thank you..."
>The two of you sit there until she eventually falls asleep in your arms.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>You ponder life's greatest mysteries.
>You've figured out a few things about your moth-mate, but you still don't even know her name.
>The reason she cuddles up with you at night is because she hates the cold.
>She likes silent moonlit walks on the beach (you have yet to verify this).
>She on-and-off hates you because...
>And that's all you've figured out.
>You're currently struggling to find the answer to that last one.
>It's not brain food, but Chocolate Peanut Butter Pop-tarts taste pretty good.
>After deluding them in milk.
>If you didn't, it's a straight headache of peanut butter flavor.
>The first bite hurt you.
>Luckily, you learned after that and ate it and the rest of the Pop-tarts in the box.
>You toasted them first, of course.
>You've finished your part of breakfast and are waiting for your moth-mate to drink the milk.
>She dips her long tongue into the cup of milk.
>Just seeing that tongue send shivers down your spine.
>She drinks a little bit, then stops. Her expression changes to one of dread.
>"... It doesn't taste any different from regular milk."
>... Was she talking to you?
>It didn't seem like she was...
>Her eyes wander to you. She looks directly at your mouth.
>... Half-a-minute later, she's still looking at your mouth.
>You feel very uncomfortable.
>You really wish you knew what to say or do to make her stop.
>Unfortunately, you simply have to wait.
>She slides the cup away and looks toward the door.
>... She finished drinking while staring at your mouth.
>You get up from the table, pick up the cup and head toward the sink.
>You'll probably do dishes... later.
>The only things needing to be washed are a few spoons, even fewer bowls, a couple cups, a plate and a pitcher you put juice in.
>None of those things are things you don't have many more of.
>You could hold off doing dishes for a week but you won't.
>You have a better work-ethic than that.
>You leave the room and prepare for a boring day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Of all of the sugary cereals, you may be eating the best one.
>Frosted Flakes.
>They're like Corn Flakes, but not bland.
>They're like Frosted Mini-Wheats, but good.
>No, not good...
>THEY'RE GRRRRRRREAT!
>And almost completely gone.
>As in, you bought a full box and now the last of it is in your bowl.
>You have no clue where rest of it went.
>... Now that you think of it, this has been happening for all of your breakfasts.
>Every single breakfast you've had, you seem to finish it off after only one sitting.
>But you can't finish an entire box of cereal in one go.
>That's insane.
>Your breakfast food has just been... disappearing.
>And you only just noticed.
>"Anon!"
>SWEET SUGARY HEART-ATTACK.
>You cough and sputter for a bit, attempting to recover from the moth-rage next to you.
>As you regain your composure, you look at her, wondering what could possibly cause such an outburst.
>She's staring at you.
>You've totally gotten over the stare.
>Your heart isn't beating rapidly right now, that's just... your stomach, or something...
>You're terrified.
>"Just finish the cereal so I can drink the milk."
>Your mind can't think of a rebuttal.
>That stare is overpowered.
>"Seriously, you've just been staring at it for a minute."
>... Oh. You must have zoned out at some point.
>Looks like it's your fault once again.
>Defeated, you turn back around to devour your food.
>Like a tiger eating its prey.
>And that tiger is helping children with sports.
>And advertising this cereal.
>You like Tony.
>After finishing your great breakfast, you pass the bowl off to your moth-mate.
>You get up from your chair and stretch. Today will be a great day.
"Well, I'm going to go vacuum the bedroom."
>Your moth-mate nods and sticks her tongue in the milk.
>With that, you're off. You leave through the door to the hallway.
>You turn left.
>You totally went to the wrong one.
>Whatever, it's a looping hallway; you just have to walk this way and you'll eventually get to the bedroom.
>Your kitchen/dining room is connected to the same hallway twice. It's... weird. You don't understand the point of architecture like that, but you try not to question it on a daily basis.
>Meaning you question it on a daily basis.
>Conveniently, this hallway connects to the rest of the house.
>Every single room.
>It's weird.
>Even that room with no light-switch. The one you never go in. Not because it scares you, but... uh... because it scares you...
>Just as you almost get to the other entryway to the dining kitchen, you hear a sigh. Not a loud sigh, a very faint sigh.
>... Sounds a lot like eavesdropping time.
>Your moth-mate seldom speaks to herself.
>It makes sense to you; you do it too.
>It probably has something to do with loneliness.
>You press yourself against the wall, eager to hear what she has to say.
>...
>...
>Silence.
>...
>Wait, you hear something.
>She's... panting.
>... That's... certainly something.
>A soft moan escapes her lips.
>...
>Last time you heard that, you ended up calling it an incident.
>... Then there was silence.
>She's probably freaking out.
>She does that a lot when she thinks you aren't eavesdropping.
>But you are.
>You're a horrible person.
>You'll have to Metal Gear your way out of this one. Usually, you just have to go back a few rooms and you're safe, however, you're supposed to be in the bedroom right now. If she checks there and doesn't see you...
>You hear her pick up the bowl.
>She's heading toward the sink.
>Now is your chance.
>You turn around to face the wall you're against, so you'll be able to see her once you pass that doorway.
>You gracefully jump across the open space.
>She's looking into the sink.
>You are successful.
>As the coolest ninja in the house, you sneak to the bedroom to vacuum.
>It was a cleaning stealth day

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Your food is definitely disappearing.
>Unfortunately, you have no clue how.
>You checked while clean. You checked for even the slightest sign someone or something besides you and your moth-mate have been in this house.
>Nothing.
>Either there are high level ninjas going through your home, or...
>Or... uh...
>That's pretty much your only conclusion.
>You're a medium level ninja, so it's not out of the realm of possibility.
>Ninjas going around eating your cereal.
>Jerks.
>Ninjas must be jerks in Equestria, because no one should ever steal anyone else's food.
>That's just low.
>... Unless it's for good reason.
>You're not getting into this debate inside your head.
>Not now, at least.
>There's a moth staring you down.
>So you continue eating your Peanut Butter Crunch.
>The only trace of the phrase "Crunchatize me Cap'n!" comes from the advertisements on the side of the box, but that does make you cry.
>Yet.
>You let out a sigh as you finish the cereal.
>You don't turn to face her when you pass the bowl to her.
>You can't look at her.
>Not after five pairs of your boxers went missing last night.
>And you know that wasn't the ninjas, because she accidentally woke you up ever time she changed into a new pair.
>You searched for them. They're all hidden very well.
>There's also a really weird smell in your bedroom. It was faint when you vacuumed, but now it's unavoidable.
>The smell is bad, but also... good?
>You can't quite identify it, but something about it makes you like it. The smell itself is bad, but it makes you... feel good?
>Things are difficult to understand sometimes.
>You hear the sounds of her finishing the milk.
>Slurping air, bowl being put back on the table, her refreshed sigh...
>It's time.
>You turn back to put the things away, and out of the corner of your eye, you see a content moth.
>Aw...
>Now if only she'd tell you what she did with all of your boxers.
>... Or just give them back.
>You just want them back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>You haven't been feeling well, lately.
>You don't really feel sick, just... not well?
>Wheaties are good for you, right? Maybe that'll fix it.
>And that's the story of how you're currently eating Wheaties next to your moth-mate.
>Critics raved about it.
>It was given tens all across the board.
>You became a billionaire in the first week alone.
>...
>You wish...
>The Wheaties taste good, at least.
>It is the Breakfast Cereal of Champions, after all.
>If you eat this cereal every day for the rest of your life, you'll totally look like that pony athlete on the front of the box you've never heard of.
>Most definitely.
>You roll your eyes and continue eating.
>When you bite down on another spoonful, you notice a weird texture.
>... Is...
>Is that a hair?
>You slowly open your mouth and take out the obstruction.
>It's most certainly a hair, but who's hair is it?
>Or, was.
>Whatever.
>You examine the hair carefully.
>... You then turn to face your moth-mate.
>She's looking back at you with a flat expression.
>...
"Hey, uh..." You are really good at talking to her. "How did one of your hairs get in the Wheaties?"
>Her expression doesn't change.
>"I don't know."
"But... you're all the way over there; you were never close to the bowl..."
>The hair is hers, you know it. It's exactly like one of the spiky parts next to one of the curly parts.
>You now marvel in how odd her mane is.
>Is her tail similar?
>...
>Don't look, she'll kill you.
>You resist looking at her tail.
>Unfortunately, your questions remain unanswered.
>The big question is "How did this hair get here?"
>With a few minor questions about her appearance.
>"Does it matter?"
>You're broken from your trance.
>... Come to think of it, it probably doesn't matter.
"N-no, I guess not..."
>You fling the hair away from you, meaning it went a foot at most, and continue eating your Breakfast Cereal of Champions.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Unless you decide to just put random foods in milk and dump milk on them, this is your last liquid breakfast.
>Pops, your last love.
>Your heart and soul...
>Something about them just tastes... weird today.
>It's probably nerves.
>About being on your last bowl of breakfast.
>Then...
>You already feel like you're sweating.
>... You are sweating.
>Gross.
>You'll have to talk a shower after breakfast.
>On an unrelated note, the moth sitting next to you seems to be a bit... jittery.
>She has heavier breaths and she's lightly shaking. She has been like this for a while, but only this morning has it persisted.
>It was usually only at mid-day and at night, but now...
>You've questioned her about it, but she always disregarded the subject.
>... You're worried.
>...
>No more.
>She's always leaving you in the dark. True, many things are meant to be kept secret, but you have a good reason to at least ask about her health.
>You put down your spoon.
>... It probably would've been more epic if you hadn't just finished.
>You have bad timing.
>That doesn't matter now, only she matters now.
>...
>Yeah.
>She's looking toward the bowl, expecting it to be slid to her.
>You don't slide it.
>Time to make a statement.
"Hey."
>Her eyes glare daggers into you.
>Truly the end of times.
>You steel yourself and continue.
"You haven't been feeling well, what's wrong?"
>Her expression becomes one of intense anger.
>"I'm perfectly fine, Anonymous." She's angry enough to use your full first name. "Just pass me the milk so we can move on."
>This is it, make or break...
>...
"No."
>...
>Silence.
>She's slightly taken aback.
>Then she recovers.
>... Her eyes bring death...
>So... cold...
>What does life mean?
>... Goodness, you feel yourself dying just looking into her eyes.
>"Anonymous."
>...
>No.
>"Anonym-"
"No!"
>Her stare ends and your rant begins.
"You don't trust me in the slightest! I'm just trying to help you, and you snarl at me and bring me hell!"
>You let it hang for a second.
"We were bonding! Everything was going so well, we even got through a tough time, and we're still having it difficult!"
>She averts her gaze.
>She looks... sad.
>It seems you've actually struck a chord this time.
"... What's wrong?"
>... Silence overtakes the room.
>This had to be done... right?
>Yes. Don't regret it, this is how it has to be. If you don't mend this, it may be broken forever.
>She visibly inhaled deeply.
>She sighs.
>Her eyes are closed; she turns back to you.
>Her eyes open.
>They glisten...
>"Anon..."
>You simply wait.
>"I-I'm sorry. I... haven't been feeling well, but it's just a minor thing."
>She sounds sincere...
"Promise?"
>The question hangs in the air.
>A light smile graces her beautiful face.
>"I promise."
>You smile in return. Maybe, just maybe, you can learn to actually grow together.
>Unlike last time.
>... Well, that sullied your thoughts.
>She still seems positive, though.
>Her forelegs open wide, as if she was inviting you in for a hug.
>...
>Maybe she is.
>You go in for the hug.
>And the two of you hold a great embrace.
>She asked you for a hug and you accepted.
>It feels nice.
>She brings her mouth to your ear.
>"Anon?"
"Yes?"
>"My name..."
>...
>She's serious.
>...
>...
>"Shimmer Light."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Shimmer Light.
>The two of you have grown quite attached since she finally told you her name.
>She's opened up to you a bit and actually seems to trust you. She still keeps some secrets, but really, who doesn't?
>The two of you have been doing more things together as well. Oddly enough, both of you really enjoy crayons.
>... Whatever her Cutie Mark is, it isn't related to drawing, that's all you'll say.
>Well, you won't say that out loud, she'd break your face.
>She knows she isn't good, you don't need, or even want, to say anything about it.
>She even openly cuddled with you before sleep.
>You can't recall when she became so uncontrollably cute; you also lost track of how many near heart-attacks you've had due to adorableness.
>You woke up before her this morning. She had such a serene look on her face.
>It almost made you forget she can still be mean.
>You are a very clumsy person in Equestria. Luckily, you can blame it on nothing actually being meant for humans.
>That doesn't change how you often run into things.
>Then she berates you...
>It doesn't happen as often, though. She actually showed concern for you once.
>You slammed your face into a wall.
>You... aren't exactly sure how it happened.
>Your body just stopped working for a bit, but she caught you before you hit the floor.
>She checked to make sure you were okay.
>... Then she made fun of you.
>Today will be a good day.
>... The two of you agreed.
>It's time for a solid breakfast.
>Bagels.
>You're a bit scared all of the trust you built up will crumble again, but you've built it differently this time.
>Instead of using paper and tape, you're using brick and mortar.
>The building of trust will not fall this time.
>... You hope.
>You just finished your bagels.
>They were lightly toasted and had a little bit of butter on them.
>They were better than the toast you had so long ago. You aren't exactly sure why but they were.
>You turn to your moth-mate.
>... Shimmer.
>You turn to Shimmer.
>You finally know her name, you're going to use it.
>Her eyes were soft but also... scared?
>She's breathing heavily, as though her heart was trying to catch up with her.
>... Only now do you notice how hard your own heart is beating.
>This has only happened two other times. The first, you cried on the floor for an hour and were traumatized. The second, you avoided Shimmer for the day and were traumatized.
>This time...
>You have a mutual understanding.
>"Anon..."
>She sounds as sure of this as you do.
>Not at all.
"Yes, Shimmer?"
>Oh, that felt good.
>She gets a little closer to you.
>"Promise me... Promise me nothing will happen."
>Her worry is sincere, you can feel it. It's time to reassure her.
"Don't worry, everything will be okay."
>You close the distance.
"I promise."
>Her mouth presses against yours.
>You can feel her tongue shakily make its way to the back of your throat.
>It slowly slides down.
>... You can't tell if you enjoy it or not.
>She reaches your stomach.
>You can feel her drinking.
>This time, you don't resist or tense up.
>You are calm.
>She moans loudly into you.
>And stops.
>Your eyes are closed, but if they were open, you'd probably see her blushing profusely.
>Your body doesn't react.
>You allow her to continue.
>And she does.
>A while later, she pulls out of you. You separate from her and open your eyes.
>Both of you are panting heavily.
>You hold eye contact.
>...
>Nothing went wrong.
>You smile.
>She smiles.
>You both enjoy a long hug.
>If this was a testament to anything, you know everything will be okay.
>You and Shimmer Light...
>...
>Your heart flutters when you think of her.
>Everything is perfect.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>For the first time in quite a while, you woke up with no mothpony in your arms.
>Your brain couldn't handle the odd situation.
>In hindsight, it was somewhat sad.
>Sad, meaning pathetic.
>You freaked out.
>Badly.
>Like, hyperventilating.
>You thought she might have just up and left.
>Turns out, a quick depressed trip to the kitchen later, she was making breakfast for you.
>You were ecstatic when you saw her.
>... Then you had to explain the situation.
>She mocked you a bit for it.
>But you still don't care.
>You're just glad she's here.
>...
>Goodness, you really need to control your reactions to things.
>That was way too much.
>All of her stuff was still here, why would that indicate her being gone?
>Your mind skipped every level of Happening.
>Back to the muffins.
>Chocolate Chip, by the way.
>She even got a glass of milk for you.
>Then immediately told you to just drink the milk, not dip the muffins in it.
>... Sadly, that was your plan.
>Maybe you're predictable.
>Maybe it was just meant as an insult.
>Either way, you laughed awkwardly.
>You rolled really low on your Bluff check.
>Currently, you're finishing off the last muffin and the last bit of milk.
>They were really good.
>You feel a hoof on your shoulder.
>Your eyes meet hers.
>...
>One stomach-pump session later, she pulls away from you.
>"Delicious. See, that's how cooking it done."
>You smirk.
>She thought you didn't notice.
"Shimmer, the only muffin mix in this house is Just-add-water."
>She deflates a little, then groans.
>She gets off her chair and leaves the room.
>You just sit there in silence.
>... Well, it seems breakfast is done for today.
>...
>Wait, you didn't even thank her for the muffins!
>All you did was prove they were easy to make, you didn't say anything about how she went out of her way to make them for you.
>... Now you feel bad.
>You have to fix that.
>Like, now.
"H-hey, Shimmer, wait up!"
>She went left... right?
>Dang it, Anon.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>You are crazy, apparently.
>No, really, there have just been words and songs all in your head since you made today's breakfast.
>Oatmeal.
>You like Brown Sugar Cinnamon.
>When you bought it, the pony got it from looked at you questioningly.
>Now you know why.
>You've hummed along with every song in your head.
>Shimmer seems a bit worried.
>"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I feel super-de-duper."
>For some reason, she didn't believe you.
>You've done more cartwheels today than you normally do in a year.
>The oatmeal was there for only a few seconds.
>Then you lifted the bowl and filled it upside down above you, causing all of it to fall perfectly into your mouth.
>You chewed for only an instant then swallowed it all.
>Shimmer is now beyond worried.
>"Anon, please stop, I don't know what's going on..."
>You throw the bowl up.
>It lands perfectly in the sink.
>Somehow.
>"Anon, please..."
>You look up to her.
>... Up?
>You're balancing on one hand.
>And your chair in balancing on your toes.
>And she's on that chair.
>You don't know how that happened, but you feel pretty good about yourself for doing it.
"But Shimmy, everything feels fantarific!"
>You do some amazing gymnastics, like flipping up the chair and sitting next to Shimmer on it.
>The chair is floating as though you were still holding it up.
>Her face shows pure confusion.
>No, she also looks sad.
>No, worried.
>Great amounts of confusion and worry, that's it.
"Now why would I want this to end?
I want to please you, my best friend!
The world I am allowed to bend,
All is great today!"
>She's frozen.
>You're singing.
>You grab her and jump together from the chair.
"I-"
>You snap your fingers and a drum hits on the beat.
"- just want you to see.
This-"
>Snap.
"- is-"
>Snap
" - great to be!
I'm just happy you like me.
That's all I want to say!"
>You press your lips against hers.

>... Goodness greatness, you're on fire.
>Not literally.
>The two of you are frozen.
>Also, not literally.
>You expected her to start drinking from you by now.
>Her tongue hasn't left her mouth.
>... Maybe you should just help her along...
>You reach in with your tongue, hoping to grab hers and bring it in, so she gets the memo.
>Ha, memos... Sticky notes are where it's at.
>Your tongues touch.
>Shimmer lets out a high-pitched squeak.
>... You've never heard her squeak before.
>It was so cute...
>Focus. It's still breakfast.
>Your tongue struggles against hers to move it.
>All you can hear are moans coming from Shimmer.
>You can't even hear the random stuff in your head over her moans.
>Her tongue seems to be moving now, but it feels more like it's dancing than moving into your mouth.
>Your tongue dances as well.
>...
>Was your heart always beating this fast?
>Her forelegs wrap around you as she pulls herself closer to you.
>... Who turned up the heat in the room?
>Your tongues dance together.
>Not like you were dancing before, differently.
>More...
>...
>More something.
>Her tongue finally enters your mouth.
>It's about time.
>Then makes its way down your throat.
>It's all tingly.
>It feels nice.
>... She just can't stop moaning.
>You're certain the room is almost hot enough to start melting things.
>Your stomach is breached.
>She drinks from you.
>...
>After a minute or two, she pulls out and leans away from you.
>She licks her lips.
>"Anon..."
"Yes?"
>She pulls the two of you into a flip.
>Or, two flips.
>Three.
>Four?
>You lose count at some point.
>You both land perfectly a few feet apart.
>" I bet you can't do this!"
>She flips many times, then brings a chair in and flips it over her.
>While she's still flipping.
>She has thrown down the partying gauntlet.
>The gauntlet covered in balloons and streamers and frosting and-
>The two of you party uncontrollably until the sugar crash hits.
>Then you both fall asleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>Searing pain.
>Great agony.
>... It's just a minor headache.
>Still, you wake up with a headache.
>And you're in the middle of the hallway.
>You begin to recall yesterday's happenings as you get to your feet.
>A blanket falls off you.
>...
>You suppose that's why you weren't cold, you had a blanket.
>You certainly don't remember putting it on yourself, but...
>Actually, Shimmer may have put it on you. As you recall she was more tame than...
>Then you recall... some of the things you did.
>Mainly, the... mouth-to-mouth.
>You feel the heat rushing to your head; every other part of your body is like ice.
>There's no way she would forget that.
>She wasn't crazy when it happened.
>... Though, when she was crazy, she was crazier than you.
>The two of you did many impressive things.
>Also some things you regret.
>... Actually, just that one.
>You really weren't thinking.
>... Trying to pick up her tongue with yours?
>Really?
>You groan and you move toward the kitchen.
>You should probably look for Shimmer, but you'll prepare breakfast first.
>To be honest, you'd rather avoid seeing her today.
>Or ever again.
>You would die of embarrassment.
>You step into the kitchen.
>Then freeze.
>She's already there, cooking something on the stove.
>She turns to face you.
>"Oh, Anon, I was expecting you to sleep a bit longer."
"I feel like I should have."
>...
"Slept longer, I mean."
>Her expression deadpans.
>"Obviously."
>Good start.
"So," you're quick to get away from that mess, "what're you making?"
>She turns back to the stove with a spatula in her hoof.
>"Pancakes."
>... You don't remember having pancake mix.
>Whatever, pancakes are great, so you aren't complaining.
>You walk over to her, eager to see her progress.
>There is one made and one on the pan.
>The bowl of batter is empty.
>It's like she doubts your eating ability.
>Then you take a good look at the pancakes.
>They're a bit on the large side, but mainly...
"They're so fluffy!"
>She turns to you.
>Did you just scare her?
>Well, you can check that off... Wait, you did that all of yesterday.
>Oatmeal is weird.
>"Of course they're fluffy. They're better this way."
>She says it as though she's had pancakes before.
>"... Though, most of those times, I drank it as a shake, because..." She turns back the pan, flipping the now-cooked pancake onto the plate. "The whole, eating solids thing."
>She slides the plate and the butter to you.
>Then she looks up to you. Her eyes are filled with wonder.
>You'll try not to accidentally insult her, like you did with the muffins.
>You take as little time as you can spreading butter on the pancake, and you take a bite.
>An explosion of partially cooked goodness topped with a little bit of butter goes off in your mouth.
>It's so good.
>It's not gooey but it's not overcooked.
>You can't help but release an overjoyed sigh.
>Your eyes glance over to Shimmer.
>She's ecstatic.
>You continue eating until the outside is gone.
>Then you get to the inside.
>It's slightly gooey but not in a gross way.
>It tastes even better than the rest.
>Your moan of ecstasy is louder this time.
>...
>You finish the pancakes and turn to Shimmer, wrapping her in a tight hug.
>"I'm guessing you liked them."
>Her tone was slightly smug, but that's fine by you. With pancakes like that, she can be smug if she wants to be.
"They were amazing."
>She pulls away from you and stares into your eyes.
>She licks her lips.
>"Good. I can't wait to taste them."
>Oh, right...
>Before you can even react, her mouth is on yours.
>Her tongue has already made its way into your mouth.
>... You feel her tongue brush against yours.
>She sharply inhales and freezes.
>Neither of you move.
>So, she can't just ignore everything.
>... Meaning she remembers what you did.
>Oh no...
>She slowly makes her way to the back of your mouth, recoiling every time she accidentally touches something.
>...
>The feeding itself goes without anything interesting.
>... Though, afterward, the two of you are reduced to blushing piles of embarrassment.
>Neither of you look at the other.
>This... is going to be difficult to escape from.
>... You have something to clean, right?
>... You'll make something up.
"A-anyway, I uh..." you pause. "I have to go... clean the... bedroom. You know, all that dust."
>You turn toward the hall.
>"Anon."
>Your heart beats faster.
>"... About the oatmeal..."
>It's happening.
>You turn back to her.
"What about it?"
>She looks to your feet and rubs her foreleg.
>"Oatmeal... amplifies the body and mind."
>... That would make sense.
>"... However, it doesn't create."
>That... doesn't.
"What?"
>"Well... I did some research, and..."
>She hesitates.
>Whatever she has to say, she's conflicted on saying.
>"It increases physical capabilities and amplifies emotions, but it doesn't make you do things you'd never do by choice."
>You don't see where she's going with this.
"Yeah, and...?"
>You can practically see steam coming off her face.
>"The whole... tongue... thing..."
>...
>You wish you still didn't know where she was going with this.
>She now thinks you were making out with her by choice.
>You weren't!
>... Right?
>She had to feed, that's all.
>... Though, you remember feeling extremely hot while doing that.
>About as hot as you feel right now.
>You have to diffuse this.
>...
>You can't speak.
>There's a lump caught in your throat.
>You can't.
>...
>You can't!
>She looks into your eyes.
>She's smirking...
>"If you really wanted to do that," she brushes against you as she passes by, "all you needed to do was ask~"
>She leaves the room.
>You burst into flames and melt away.
>GOOD END.
>... Actually, you just fall to the floor. Luckily, you land softly.
>You lay there for an unknown amount of time.
>... It's time for you to gather your thoughts and feelings.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>You thought for quite some time.
>If you were able to put all of your thoughts into a box, that box would be so dense, you wouldn't be able to lift it.
>But enough about boxes, you have a decision to make.
>You're too entranced to even get out of bed.
>Shimmer is probably waiting for you.
>But...
>That decision...
>...
>You might be in love with her.
>You don't know for sure, all of the abuse may have gotten to you, but you're humoring the thought.
>How will you be sure?
>... It'll come to you when the time is right.
>And if it doesn't, it probably isn't there at all.
>Either way, you have breakfast to get to.
>You peel yourself out of bed and make your way to the kitchen.
>... You're there after an eternity's walk.
>Time certainly is taking its... time.
>You almost threw up from that one.
>You peek in through the door frame.
>She's cooking something on the stove again.
>If you sneak well enough, you might be able to startle her.
>... That's mean...
>"Anon!"
>SWEET TASTE YOU CAN SEE.
>Well, she noticed you at some point, that much is obvious.
>She looks so happy...
>And beautiful.
>Goodness, it looks like the world is sparkling around her.
>You make your way to her side.
"Good morning, Shimmer. What do we have today?"
>She's practically bouncing.
>"It's a surprise!"
>The surprise looks a lot like pancakes.
>... Well, that is surprising. You don't usually eat the same thing multiple times before you run out.
>Though that hasn't been happening recently...
>She flips the last pancake onto a plate for you.
>They're really fluffy, just like last time.
>This is going to be-
>"Anon, wait!"
>She flutters over to a cabinet and pulls out the peanut butter. She opens the lid and spreads it across your pancakes with a knife she had around.
>For some reason.
>Calm down, it was only a butter knife.
>She could only kill you with it if she was really trying to.
>... You're not sure if you should still be scared of that being a possibility.
>Either way, your pancakes now have peanut butter on them.
>She backs away, allowing you to dig in.
>She looks so happy...
>You know these pancakes will be amazing.
>With her as cook, you have no doubt.
>...
>After eating them, you have a few things to clarify.
>You don't doubt her cooking, but she spread way too much peanut butter on them.
>Also, there were chocolate chips in the pancakes.
>... But you hardly tasted them over the power of the peanut butter.
>There wasn't even a lot on...
>It looked like such a small amount, how was it so overpowering?
>You look over to her.
>You shouldn't have.
>Her expression is tearing you to pieces.
>She isn't mad.
>She isn't trying to hurt you.
>She's the one hurt.
>At some point, you must have given away the pancakes weren't as good as you'd hoped.
>Either that or she rolled really high for reading your emotions.
>And you rolled a really low save.
>She dejectedly looks to the floor.
>"I'm sorry, Anon. I just wanted to make something special for you..."
>You're five seconds away from crying your eyes out.
>This mare, the one you've fear, now the one you possibly love, is disheartened.
>Oddly enough, it's not actually your fault.
>Probably.
>... Either way, you're not going to stand by and let it affect her.
"Shimmer, the only thing wrong with it was the amount of peanut butter."
>Her eyes meet yours. She still looks sad, but she appears more confused now.
"It took over the taste. It didn't taste bad, it just didn't taste like a pancake. Kind of like I was eating just peanut butter."
>And now she's back to looking sad.
>You have to save this.
>... But you have no bonuses to this roll!
>The Difficulty Class is probably, like, 15 or something crazy like that!
>... But you have to try.
>Roll to save.
>...
"But I'd be happy to stay here with you and test until it's perfect."
>She looks surprised.
>Then happy again.
>Natural 20.
>The two of you made great pancakes all day.
>You're almost certain she's the one for you.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

>You are frustrated.
>... With yourself.
>Quite mad at yourself.
>You were so close to saying something.
>But you didn't.
>You held nothing but regret while cuddling with Shimmer through the night.
>... Well, you held her also, but that's not actually related to your point.
>At all.
>The point is: You were so close to telling her how you feel but you didn't.
>Now you're just laying in bed.
>Alone.
>Shimmer is probably making breakfast for you.
>... You don't feel like getting up.
>You'll probably just chicken out again.
>If you were doing this for any other pony, you're sure it'd be easier.
>... You have to try.
>You told yourself that earlier, but this time...
>Well, you'll think of something.
>Hopefully.
>...
>The journey to the kitchen was a slow and boring one.
>You were dragging your feet with dread.
>... Maybe you'll just wait for her to say something about the two of you.
>If she never does...
>Well, you won't get there if you never get there.
>You peer in through the doorway.
>... Oh...
>What even...
>The sight before you is... odd.
>Batter seems to strewn about all across the room, almost as if someone was deliberately putting globs of batter in different places of the room to make it look like a mess.
>Near the stove is the usual moth of your love.
>... You hope you don't always refer to her as that.
>Shimmer has her whole body pressed against the stove.
>Not the burners, the actual stove.
>She's not hurting herself.
>She lets out a loud sigh.
>"I better get this mess cleaned up befo-"
>She noticed you.
>Her eyes are as wide as plates.
>...
>A minute of staring passes.
>She averts her gaze dejectedly.
>"Good morning, Anon."
"Shimmer..."
>You look around the room.
"What happened in here?"
>She lets out another sigh, this one in frustration.
>"Well, I thought I'd be nice and make you something this morning. Actually make, I mean, not 'just add water'."
>She waves her hoof toward the oven.
>"Obviously, it didn't go so well."
>... How does a mess like this even get created? That doesn't...
>... Whatever.
>"So there you have it. I can't cook."
>She straightens her back.
>"Go ahead."
>... What?
>"Insult me."
>... What.
>"I deserve it."
>...
"Shimmer..."
>She visibly tenses up.
"Let's get this mess cleaned up."
>Her body falters and she turns to you.
>"Excuse me?"
"Well, this mess won't clean itself, so-"
>"Is this a joke?"
>She's shouting.
>"Come on, Anonymous, just do it! I know you're going to, why play it out?"
>You're taken aback.
>It's time for Sense Motive.
>You swear on your D20, if you fail...
>...
>15.
>The anger she shows is more than the anger she actually has. Her main thought is one of confusion.
>But she also has... disappointment?
>... She's disappointed in herself and wants to here herself be insulted.
>That's a way of coping.
>Because Psychology.
>You're not going to let that happen.
"Shimmer."
>Time stands still...
>...
"I'll do no such thing."
>She prepares a retort, but you won't have it.
"As of right now, I have no good reason to insult you. This mess is a simple fix, there's no need to try to make you feel bad."
>Her anger is no longer visible; her face shows only confusion.
>"But... I've insulted you so many times!"
"So?"
>...
>Silence.
>You didn't know a two-letter word could hold such power.
>She looks toward the floor.
>"Anonymous, I don't understand."
"What?"
>"How can you be so..." she struggles to find the right word.
>You should help her out.
"Calm?"
>"... Forgiving..."
>... Oh.
>Wait, something feels... right.
>... Is it time?
>You blood pumps faster.
>It's time.
"Shimmer, I don't want you to be sad, I only wish for you to be happy. That's what makes me happy. Why, then, would I ever insult you?"
>Her expression has softened immensely and she looks into your eyes.
>... Her eyes used to bring you fear, now...
>You have to do it.
>Now's the best time... right?
"I..."
>...
>The words get stuck in your throat.
>...
>THE WORDS GET STUCK IN YOUR THROAT.
>NOW'S REALLY NOT THE TIME.
>This moth is your love, and you'll let her know.
>Even if she rejects you, you have to at least say it.
>...
"I love you, Shimmer."
>...
>Her expression doesn't change.
>Did you... fail?
>"What?"
>Feel the heat.
>Burning you up, ready or not.
"W-well, u-uh..."
>Confidence levels are dropping rapidly.
>She just stares at you.
>"Why?"
>...
>That wasn't what you were expecting.
"'Why?' Why not?"
>Time to stall while attempting to come up with a truly good reason.
>"Anonymous..."
>Oh no.
>"I don't even have any positive qualities; why do you say you love me?"
>She sounded so nonchalant about insulting herself like that...
"I used to insult you almost constantly, I never said anything nice to you, I did things you were uncomfortable with, and I even hid all the cereal so I could suck food from your stomach more often."
>She made some really good points, but you have some bette-
>... Wait, what was that last one?
"You... what?"
>Her expression becomes inquisitive.
>"I hid the cereal. You didn't know?"
>This hit you like a brick of trains.
>... TRAIN OF BRICKS.
"No, I didn't know! Why would I?"
>She turns away with an ashamed look on her face.
>"Well, there it is. That's where all the cereal went. Now you have another reason to dislike me."
>She has gone behind your back with doing things.
>... But you've gone behind hers as well.
"If I hated you for doing that, you'd have to hate me for sneaking around all of the time."
>"What?"
"I... do a lot of sneaking around this house. I've heard you say... a lot of things. Like how vacuuming pisses you off, and how mad you get when-"
>"I..." Her body tenses once again, but relaxes only a moment later. "That's fine. Everyone has their things they aren't proud of."
>...
>What was that?
>Was that a "Checkmate" you heard?
>A broad smile adorns your face.
"Exactly."
>The tone you used was one of victory. It was so out of place, she had to look up to you in confusion.
"Everyone has done some things they aren't proud of, but that doesn't mean we can't move past them."
>You're doing it!
"Life is filled with ups and downs..."
>YOU'RE DOING IT!
"... And I'd like to ride that rollercoaster with you."
>Y-
>Actually, that didn't end nearly as strongly as you'd hoped it would...
>... She isn't looking at you.
>You really did it this time.
>Nice.
>You're going to go smash your head into a wall in a little bit.
>You hear a faint giggle, then a sigh.
>"Anon..."
>She looks up to you with a warm smile.
>Her wings extend and she takes to the air, just to flutter in front of you at eye level.
>...
>"I'd love to. At least to try."
>She flies straight into your chest and attaches herself to your shirt.
>She's incredibly light.
>... Is this actually happening?
>You carefully wrap your arms around her.
>... You can already feel the tears of joy streaming down your face.
>"Now come on, the first thing we do together is clean this mess before it all dries."
>Oh yeah, batter everywhere.
>You seriously need to ask her how that happened.
>But... later.
>For now, you sigh and head toward the cleaning supplies.
>...
>The two of you spend more time together now than ever before.
>And you don't regret it in the slightest.
>You never will.