934294
Thanks.

934273 Okay, I'm claiming the next one. Expect a tone shift, though.

934352
Don't you fucking dare. Keep it happy... or else.

I love this idea. Gotta keep a tag on this.

934510
I wish they would make it so you can follow threads. Get a notification when a comment is added, ya know?

934516
Yeah, that'll happen when we get a Luna emoticon

934518
Or any other emoticons, for that matter.

The noise was noticeable a full block away from their destination. Not distinctly, Octavia couldn't actually make out what was playing. Which, in her mind was a blessing. Those damnable students they saddled her with wouldn't know real music if hit them in the face with a harpsichord. And now this crazy mare who always wore her sunglasses (so original) insisted on bringing her out to... here.

The sidewalks seemed to have more gum than cement. Not literally, but nevertheless.

"Trust me, this guy working tonight is the SHIT. You'll love it." Vinyl said, for about the fourteenth time.

"Why would I want to listen to excrement?" Octavia raise one eyebrow.

"No, I didn't say he's shit, I said he's THE shit. There's a difference.

Octavia raised the other eyebrow.

They got into the club quickly. There's never a line at the back door, but you do have to belong there. Same as a concert hall, really, except for the smell. No expensive liquor, overpriced perfumes or fine cheeses here. Just the stench of bodies. And that godawful noise.

The professor had asked his students to bring in samples of music they enjoy so that they could be shown how the basic principles of musical theory applied to all music, even popular music. Of course, it would be the teaching assistants doing the showing, so he would have to endure their abysmal tastes. Octavia was pretty sure the TAs were being punished, but had no idea why. Maybe Professor Sonata was just an evil bastard.

Of the four samples listed, only one singer had any ability to sing. One would think that, if one wanted a career in singing, where one sang, one would learn to sing. Apparently that's an old-fashioned idea now.

Vinyl lead Octavia past the detritus of the club. It was a curious mix of things; mysterious electronic equipment of unknown purpose, and crates or cheap liquor. Truly awful stuff for the most part. Octavia supposed if they have no taste in music, they might not have any taste in whiskey either. She was glad she ate beforehoof.

Vinyl opened the stage door. Octavia winced and cowered at the volume alone; It was atrocious. So was the song.

That's what makes you beautifuuuuuuul

If she ever met one of the ponies responsible for this crime, she would buck their jaw striat out of their face. In a ladylike manner.

Even Vinyl winced. "Why are they playing this shit? Where's Digital?" Octavia was covering her ears with her hooves. "Don't worry, this will all be over soon."

Even faster if we just left now.

Another pony squeezed past Octavia. Green colt, it was hard to see much else in the weird lighting, but he only gave Octavia a quick glance. He did hoofbump Vinyl, though, before stepping up to the equipment. He didn't bother with introductions; he simply started doing whatever it is one does with all those buttons.

The new song started with a simple rhythm. Just a thumping baseline and a couple drum machine line above. Every few bars, he would add a new sound, one new layer. It was not quite what Octavia had expected, it was...

"Stately," Vinyl yelled in her ear. Her eyebrows wiggled vigorously. Octavia had know idea what she was talking about.

The music proceeded. New sounds added, some taken away. It went on, maintaining only the lowest baseline. Then Digital started a new song. Same underlying baseline, maybe a hair quicker. Above that though, he laid in some strings.

Specifically, Marezart's Sonata in G Major. Octavia's jaw dropped.

The base was way too fast for the piece. Specifically, it was twice as fast as it should have been. Exactly twice as fast. Digital added some extra elements, but nothing that would distract from the main melody. Just theme and variations. Over thumping base, for no real reason.

The third movement was even more astonishing. It was that same horrid song from before but... good. Somehow, he took that ridiculous piece of amateurish drivel and made it better. All he really kept were the vocals, which sounded so tinny now you couldn't tell how bad or good the singer was, but he added a new melodic line that matched the rhythm of the lyrics perfectly.

By the fourth movement, Octavia almost knew what to expect: Presto, Rondo. Of course, the whole thing was presto, and the whole style lived on variations on a theme, but to find such a thing in a place like this...

After the fourth movement, Digital put a CD in and played something he had obviously made ahead of time. He walked back to Vinyl and gave her a warmer greeting, saying something in her ear. Vinyl introduced them.

"Digital, this is my classmate Octavia. Octavia, this is my coworker Digital. Octy, you can close your mouth now."

New prompt: Manners

CALLING IT!
Good work on that story, by the way!

934526
Two things: 1) You didn't tag everyone. B) You didn't give another prompt.

Other than that, it was good. When you said "different tone" or whatever, I was expecting you to write on walking in on the other fucking someone else (while they were dating/married).

934557 Fixed the prompt thing (sorry ) and tagging's a pain, so you'll just have to watch recent group threads under the groups button on top.

That sounded rude: I use the groups button on other threads like this rather than hope they remembered to tag me, so I'm not in the habit of tagging everyone. Sorry again.

934604
'Scool. Was just pointing it out.

934553 Thanks!

A table dotted with red, a fork coated with the remains of its last victim, a satisfied belch from the pony who had just committed an atrocity.

Octavia looked on in horror as Vinyl finished her meal. The unicorn leaned back in her chair, balancing it on two legs and picking at a piece of spaghetti lodged in her teeth.

“Great meal, Octy. Still don’t know how you cook like that.” Vinyl Scratch got to her hooves, walking into the living room and flopping onto the couch. Octavia didn’t even move. She had expected a far more pleasant evening with her fillyfriend, some nice conversation a few jokes, and then some dessert.

A perfectly good chocolate cake gone to waste, Octavia thought to herself. That mare will be asleep before I finish my own meal.

The cellist glanced at her full plate. Her mind was filled with the sound of slurped noodles and the sight of a lonely and ignored napkin. I’ll never be able to look at spaghetti the same way.

Octavia stored her meal in the refrigerator; Vinyl would eventually find her way to it. Indeed, it would probably be gone within the hour. But this time, Octavia thought in her most determined voice, Vinyl will eat rather than inhale her food.

***

Vinyl sat in front of the meal table. Well, it was at the moment only a table, considering that there was no meal on it. Instead, Octavia had laid out an assortment of forks, spoons, knives, and various colored pieces of cloth.

The grey mare was rubbing her eyes. “Okay, let’s go over this again.” She picked up the left-most fork.

“That’s a fork,” said Vinyl with a grin.

“And that’s the fourth time you’ve made that joke!”

“Aaaaaw, c’mon Octy. Remember that time you held up a spoon? That was fun.”

Octavia sighed, Honestly, what was I expecting? “Well, Vinyl that was a salad fork.”

“Octy, they’re all salad forks. We eat pretty much nothing but salad. And when we don’t eat salad, we eat pizza. Oooooo, which one’s the pizza fork?”

“There is no pizza fork!”

“Lame.”

The cellist rubbed her eyes again. “Okay then Vinyl, let’s make a deal. If you can prove that you can maintain your manners I will treat you to a restaurant of your choosing.”

Vinyl gasped excitedly. “Let’s go to Shakey’s! There’s one around here that still has games. And beer! Imagine it Octy, an arcade with BEER!”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant—“

“Salad fork, dinner fork, dessert fork (I would definitely use that), dinner knife, fish knife (but I’m not a pegasus so I wouldn’t use that), salad knife, soup spoon, fruit spoon, fish fork (still not a pegasus), and waaaay over there is the butter knife.” The DJ pointed at each utensil in turn, Octavia’s jaw dropping further and further at each name.

Vinyl looked up excitedly, “Now we have to go! Hurry up, before the place gets too packed!” She dashed up to her room, grabbing two scarves and running back down. Vinyl wrapped one of the scarves around a flabbergasted Octavia, kissed the cellist on the cheek and then ran outside.

“What… What just happened?” stammered Octavia.

Vinyl’s voice carried into the room. “C’mon Octy, move your sexy flank!”

The cellist shook herself out of her daze, again reminded to never ever underestimate Vinyl Scratch.

(I nearly ended this story with "They had a very nice time at Shakey's and then they came back home and fucked," but that would have been rather uncouth )

Next Prompt: Cleaning.

Crap, forgot to tag! DON'T HATE ME!!
934628>>934294>>934306>>933300>>934268>>934182

934784 I was actually eating pasta while I read this.

934862
*Obligatory creepy post about knowing that*

934771
One of the best one-shots I've read recently.

935771
And that's why you have, and will always be, best pony, Acreu.
I'd vote for you. Acreu for PM!

933388>>934142>>934273>>934294>>935771>>934771>>934526
We're a story now~

Now, the mods will take a century to approve it. (Figured I'd use the group banner for cover art because I'm lazy and IDK what else to use.)

936135
Squee~

936158 ... I stand corrected.

936135
Fantastic. That's a great thing to wake up to in the morning.

935771>>934771
Very nice, both of you.

933300>>933322>>933388>>933433>>933718>>933770
I shall take this next one.

933300>>933322>>933388>>933433>>933718>>933770>>934268

Prompt: Improvising
Length: 827 words
Time Spent: ‘bout 46 minutes

“Give me your lunch money, blank-flank.” A group of three young colts were grinning down deviously at a shaking grey filly. She looked around, hoping to see someone to come to her rescue. She didn’t.
“But, how am I suppose to eat?” she asked, hoping to appeal to their sympathies.
“Plenty of ponies throw food away,” the one at the front said, a cruel smirk plastered on his face. “Now, give it up.”
As the little grey pony reached into her bags for the bits, a voice was heard.
“Heya, fellas. How’s it goin’?” The filly looked up and saw a unicorn not much older than herself. She had a white coat, blue mane, and an outrageous pair of purple sunglasses hanging onto two of the colts necks.
“Not bad, Scratch. Gettin’ some lunch money. HURRY UP!! I WANNA EAT TODAY!!” The scared filly scramble to get the bits out.
“Didn’t ya guys bring your own money?” the newcomer asked.
“Well, ya, but we need more than what that can get to fill us up.” The mare was still rummaging around trying to find her bits.
“Oh, makes sense,” she said, releasing her grip on the two, returning to four feet. She started to walk towards the mare as she talked. “I remember, just the other day, I was getting money from this one puny colt. He was so adamant about not giving it to me.” She stopped in front of the younger pony, who stopped what she was doing and slowly looked at the unicorn. “Do you know what he did?” she asked the little mare, who shook her head, afraid of what was going to happen.
“He said, ‘I WILL NOT GIVE YOU MY LUNCH MONEY! IF YOU WANT MORE FOOD, YOU SHOULD ASK YOUR PARENTS FOR MORE MONEY OR GET A JOB!” She turned around to look at the colts. “I couldn’t believe him. He shouted so loud, my ears were ringing. It was probably louder than what I just did. He seemed to get rigid when I took my glasses off-” she took off her glasses “-and took on a fighting stance.” She readjusted her feet, adopting what she assumed was a believable, intimidating defensive stance.
“I said to him, I says ‘Have you ever been to the arcade a block up from that really girly store?’ He shook his head and I said, ‘Well, it just ain’t gonna happen’.”
As she finished her story, all the ponies had looks of confusion on their faces. Before anyone could reply, a teacher ran around a corner. Having heard someone yelling, he rushed to check it out. As he crested the corner, he saw three colts standing over a cowering grey filly and a white unicorn trying to protect her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, as he sprinted up to stand beside the little white unicorn.
“Nothing, Mr. Turner. We were just talking to these la-”
“They were trying to take the new filly’s lunch money, Mr. Turner!” The brown pony looked at the gathering of colts.
“Really, Vinyl? Is this true, boys?” he asked, calmly. He had no anger in his voice, just calm.
The colts spluttered, trying to form an excuse. “That’s what I thought. You two may proceed to the lunch room. You three are going to see the principal. Allons-y.” He walked off, staying behind the three colts. As they rounded a corner, he shot Vinyl a glance. He gave her a smile and a nod. The smile seemed to have all the acceptance, appreciation, and respect a pony could hold.
Beaming, Vinyl turned back to the grey mare, who was still cowering on the floor. “You can get up now,” she said with a gentle smile. The grey mare raised her lavender eyes to look into the red ones.
“But, aren’t you gonna take my lunch money now?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“Me? No. I don’t do that. I just had to distract them and yell so Mr. Turner could get here before they could do anything. I knew where he was, so I ju-” She was interrupted as the grey filly jumped up and wrapped her hooves around her neck.
“Thank you so much! I didn’t know what to do. I’m a stupid blank-flank who can’t protect herself.” At this last statement, she released Vinyl and looked down at the ground.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m a blank-flank, too.” She turned to the side a little, revealing her pearly white side to be unmarked. “And you were in a new place, with new ponies. It scares anypony. Now, come on... I don’t know your name. I’m Vinyl Scratch.” She held out her hoof for the new pony to shake.
“I’m Octavia.” She shook Vinyl’s hoof and smiled.
“Well, Tavi, let’s go get some lunch. I’m starvin’.” She turned towards the cafeteria, her new friend walking beside her.

New Prompt: Magic

936390
You. I like you.

935842
Oh, and thanks. I was originally gonna do her kissing Octavia at a party (while not knowing her feelings) and Octavia enjoying it and smiling at her, but that happened. And I am liking these prompts. It's just... I don't know. It is getting me in the authorial mood.

936396
I like me, too.

936390 Cute and claiming.

936390
Claimed Prompt: Magic

A light piano sonata rang throughout the flat and alabaster hooves ran across the black-n-white keys professionally - playing an enchanting tune that was impossible not to hum along to. The unicorn manning the instrument had her beautiful crimson eyes closed shut underneath her gaudy shades as the music controlled her every movement and she loved it. The way she was completely vulnerable but nonetheless feeling fearless - as if she was flying. The melody picked up to the song playing in her head and soon, she could hear a light harmony of cello accompany her freestyling piano rhythm.

"Gotta love the classics, eh, Tavi?"

Octavia chuckled and shook her head playfully, quickly adjusting to the upbeat tune her lover played of the song that anypony who listened to music knew by heart.

"Sing for me." Vinyl teased, lowering her sunglasses and giving a playful wink to her marefriend, who blushed.

"Not if my life depended on it." the cellist smirked. "You know I can't."

"That's the beauty of music, Tav." the pianist said simply, pausing in her playing. "One, it's jazz. You can do what you want. Two, music is about being free. Again, do what you want." She stopped for a moment and chuckled. "Besides... I know you wanna."

"You go right on ahead." Octavia insisted, giving a nod as she never stopped with the beat of the song on her cello.

"From the top then!" Vinyl announced, restarting the famous melody and beginning to belt out the lyrics carelessly...

a/n: I couldn't help myself. Jazz, the prompt, it spoke to me.
New Prompt: Snazzy

936474
Honestly not what I was expecting from that prompt, but nice, nonetheless.

933300>>933322>>933388>>933433>>933718>>933770>>934268
The prompt has been claimed. Not by me, but someone else. They wanted to stay anon. until posting. (which may not be till tomorrow, but if you take it, I will shove a tube up your asses and fill it with fire ants)

937087 almost nine hours now: do I hear a re-claim?

938866 937087
Let's give Señor Anon a bit more time. I'm rather curious as to what comes out.
If nothing comes of it, then we'll do the re-claim. I don't wanna take away a prompt as cool as Snazzy.

Prompt: Snazzy
Words: 909
Time: About thirty minutes

I was sitting in a club, drinking something that seemed to drink me rather than the other way around. Music played, I looked good, I was with a pretty mare, and I felt out of place. Vinyl Scratch felt out of place. It was beyond me why I had to be dressed in this itchy blue dress; though Octy looked good in that little red dress of hers, I admit. Even so, here I was, watching a philihar… her… harpoon or something. But they were playing classical jazz. And the servers served this amber stuff that burned on its way down.

I had no idea where I was.

Octy was humming along and bobbing her head and seemed to have pulled that stick out of her flank. Her hoof tapped along with the beat as she played along.
I had no idea what was going on.

I scrunched my face a bit in thought. Octy had told me to get dressed in the best thing I had—apparently socks and a corset weren’t what she meant—and then ushered me, me out to a club. A club that served this amber stuff and played classical jazz. I don’t even like jazz. It’s a drunken mix of a saxophone and ground up rocks.

Speaking of drunken mixes, my little cellist was up there grinding rocks on behalf of the others. Couldn’t really call it playing the cello because, well, I don’t know if it even counted as playing, but the others behind her seemed to share my thoughts, even if it really was them who asked her up there in the first place. Still, it was more like she was rubbing sticks to create fire than playing an instrument. And it was embarrassing. See, something most don’t quite understand is that she may be famous, but when you give her brandy on the rocks, she plays what sounds like rocks, and she knows it too. I could see that crimson blush on her face as she tried to match the tempo and rhythm and beat and failed. I watched her from my corner booth—which was, of course, too freaking fancy—and sipped on my brandy.

The whole of the elite there, and there seemed to be a lot of them, were looking at her with raised eyebrows, noses, and stuck-upity. Snobs. I snorted and downed the rest of my drink, standing from my booth and blowing the center candle out. From the corner of my eye, through the annoyingly dim light and through these fancy-shmancy ponies I could see Fancy Pants heading up the stage, his eye on Octavia. He and his coattail could bite my blue-dressed flank. I hurried through the music and cantered onto the stage. The music cut short.

There was a nasty look in Octavia’s eyes. She was glaring at Fancy Pants, then to the audience, which mumbled something about her being ‘intoxicated’. I ignored them and trotted to Fancy Pants, who was trying to escort Octavia offstage before she ‘embarrassed herself’. “Hey, bud,” I said, “lay off. She’s fine.”
Octy gave me that dirty look. I shrugged. “This just isn’t her style. She’s not drunk. Watch. Octy, put your hooves, here, and here, no, a little up and--not there! On the cello!” I whispered, blushing.

She looked set up. Fancy watched, probably in awe at my hoofwork. Octy was ready to grind some more rocks. I sighed. “See? She’s fine. She’s just got to get into the, uh, groove. Or something.”

The philiharpoon behind her grumbled. They were small and probably didn’t matter so I didn’t pay attention to them anyway. “Look, Octy, follow along. You got this. Get, y’know, snazzy or something. That’s what you said right? This place is ‘snazzy’?”

She huffed and looked like she was about to fall down, but I caught her and stood her up, pulling the microphone to me with my magic. “Be fancy and follow me,” I whispered.

Then I looked to the band. They glared at me, but they are oh so posh and would never make a scene, so they readied their bows and brass and rocks. Meantime, yours truly was about to put to work those skills she’d learned as a foal. I took the center stage, hummed the melody a bit to get the tempo, and then started.

"I don't want to set the world... on... fire~"

Later we were back in that booth, her head on my shoulder, another drink in my magic. The band was playing again and they sounded more modern and less stone age now. Octavia rolled her eyes up to me and slurred, “How was I?”

I patted her head and rubbed her back through her dress. “Terrible. Absolutely awful. You’re never getting on stage drunk again.”

“Well,” she drawled, “why’d you get up there?”

“Because,” I explained, “fancy ponies will always pay attention to a terrible singer over a terrible band.”
She hiccupped and said, “Well I thought you were good.”

I paused. “Well that’s because you’re drunk, doofus.”

“Oh yeah…”

“So look, next time, can we not go to one of your ‘snazzy’ clubs? Hay, I’d rather go to one of those wine-tasting things.”

She looked at the band, the crowd, then me. “Fine.”

“Can we go home now?”

“I hate you Vinyl. You’re… you… you’re a butt,” she hiccupped. I rolled my eyes and dragged her out of the booth.

“Stuff it, snazzy.”

New prompt: Fashion

I'mbadatflashfiction

933300>>933322>>933388>>933433>>933718>>933770>>934268
There. In case you didn't see it, she posted it. (Bitch at me for the time it took if you must. I forgot to mention you people get all uppity if it isn't done quick as shit)

939363
Very nice. The only thing that was going through my head when I saw the prompt was Vinyl and Tavi sexy times... I don't know why. Like, Vinyl in a skin tight black dress, seducing Octavia. I shall claim this (need something to distract me before court).

939363
You honour us with your presense here.

933300>>933322>>933388>>933433>>933718>>933770>>934268>>939363
Prompt: Fashion
Length: 762
Time Spent: ‘bout 35 minutes

Don’t come home until 8. Please. That’s what the note said. It had been left for me at work. I didn’t know what to think at the time. I still don’t. Why didn’t Vinyl want me home till eight? My mind first jumped to her having someone over. Had she finally gotten bored with me, a simple cellist who didn’t fit into her wild lifestyle? I pushed these thoughts aside and decided to settle on she was either rearranging the house, or cleaning it, since I wasn’t able to forget about it entirely.
As I approached the door, all the bad thoughts came back. Maybe she was doing drugs? Being with another pony? Leaving? I took a deep breath, hoping I didn’t have an anxiety attack. I don’t know why I was like this. I guess it just wasn’t like Vinyl, so it must have thrown me off.
I opened the door and stepped in. “Vinyl, I’m home,” I shouted as I closed the door behind me.
“I’m in the kitchen, Tavi,” she shouted back.
I put my cello by the door and walked to the kitchen. I didn’t know what to expect, but it sure as hell isn’t what I saw. The table was set with a large quantity of food, candles were everywhere, the only light in the room, and Vinyl was dressed up fancy. Well, fancy for her. She was wearing a simple red dress. That’s it. Her mane wasn’t brushed back, she wasn’t wearing makeup, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She looked absolutely gorgeous (just like any other time).
“I - you- did-” I tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed. Vinyl picked up on this and explained.
“Yes, I did this by myself for you,” she said, as she sauntered up to me, giving me a loving kiss and leading me to my chair. She even pulled it out for me. What had gotten into her? Did I forget an important date?
“Wow. This is nice. What’s the special occasion? I didn’t think there was anything important coming up this week.”
“Tavi, every day with you is special and important to me. I just wanted to do something nice. Is that too much?” She said it all with a smile. Not her normal cocky smirk, just a sweet, loving smile.
“Well, thank you. This is nice.” She started passing out the food. She had always told me she couldn’t cook, so I always did. Now that I know she can cook, she will be doing it more often.
After dinner, she took me out back where she had some blankets and pillows lain about. I laid there in her embrace, just enjoying being with her, watching the sky. It had always fascinated me. She gave me a quick squeeze, cleared her throat, and started to talk.
“Tavi, tonight was wonderful,” she began, as she sat up. “I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.” I nodded my head and gave her a hug.
“I did. Thank you very much.” She chuckled and returned the hug.
“Well, I have never done something like that before, and I couldn’t think of any other way to show you how much you meant to me. I had a few relationships before you, but I always found something missing.” What was she going on about? “I don’t know what it is, but you have it. And I never want to lose it. This is kind of a spur of the moment thing, but here goes.
“Tonight I realized I would do something completely out of who I am for you. I realized that you meant more to me than anything else. Well, I guess I done knew all this, I guess it just really hit me tonight or something. I don’t want anyone else in my life. I know I have never been good with sharing my feelings, or speeches, but I have given it my best.
“Octavia-” she never uses my full name “-will you marry me? I don’t have a ring or anything, but I-”
She was cut off as I jumped on her, locking her lips with mine. Tears were pouring down my face as I whispered “Yes” into her mouth.
This wasn’t how Vinyl would normally do something like this (I don’t think. I always thought either I would propose, or she would make it all big and flashy and everyone knowing), but I loved it, just like I loved her.

New prompt: Firsts

EDIT: sorry for the formatting issue. It is indented in GDocs but it isn't here, and it won't let me change it.

939601
I loved this. Simple, and lovely.

939606
Fank you. If only I could put this much effort into Chapter 5 of Paradiso.

I wasn't tagged for any of those stories
That's... that's fine... I'm okay with that.

*Turns off pretend sad*
And no one touch that prompt! It'll take me a bit of time, but I want it!

941268
I swore I tagged you in mine. Sorry brah.

934294 941585 939606 939363 938866 936474 934268 935842 934228
I'm pretty sure I tagged everyone
Prompt: Firsts
Length: 855 words
Time: Thirty minutes actually writing

“That movie was terrible!”
Two mares, one grey and one white, walked through the lobby of the movie theater.
“Vinyl, you have absolutely no taste. What could have possibly been wrong with it?”
The white mare, Vinyl, tilted her head, looking at her partner over the top of her purple shades.
“Really, Tavi? What was wrong with it? Everything! It wasn’t exciting! I mean, there were no explosions or giant robots! The only reason I could tolerate the lack of hot mares was because you were sitting next to me.”
Octavia turned slightly pink; she still wasn’t used to Vinyl’s idea of compliments, nor did she know how to react when Vinyl said she had a “hot flank.” Which had happened quite a bit.
So she chose to ignore the comment. “You just described a Marine Bay movie. This actually had a storyline.”
“Yeah, a boring storyline. C’mon, they couldn’t fit a single explosion into it? I thought it was stupid.”
But the grey mare knew better. “Liar. I saw you crying towards the end,” she said with a smirk.
Vinyl sputtered. “N-No, I didn’t! You’re seeing things! The soda straw poked me in the eye, that was it.”
“We didn’t buy a soda.”
“Yeah, well that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
Tavi giggled slightly. “Admit it, you liked the movie.”
The other mare hesitated for a moment. And then a slow smile spread across her face. “I’ll do it if you kiss me.”
“… Pardon?”
“I’ll say I liked the movie if you kiss me.”
“But you did like the movie,” protested Tavi.
Vinyl shook her head. “That’s not the point! I’ll say that I liked it if you kiss me.” She grinned widely. “You know you want to.”
Tavi gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable.”
“Does that mean sexy? I’ll assume that that means sexy.”
The grey mare smiled but made no move to kiss Vinyl.
Now it was Vinyl’s turn to sigh. “Well then Tavi, let’s get the rest of this date on its way!” She trotted towards the theater’s exit, closely followed by her fillyfriend.
Right, thought Octavia, date. A date with Vinyl Scratch. My first date with Vinyl Scratch. Complete with a date movie that she cried over and now we’re off to dinner. Slightly cliché, but it’s a very nice kind of cliché.
The pair walked outside. The Sun had just set; the Moon had yet to rise. All in all, it was a very romantic scene as the couple walked down the street. Vinyl was telling some kind of story, constantly moving her hooves and adding sound effects every once in a while.
Octavia was hardly listening, focused too intently on the unicorn telling the story to actually hear the story itself.
She’s so confident, never afraid to tell anypony how she feels. Except when she’s afraid or nervous. Then no one hears about it. Octavia smiled brightly. No one except me.
“And then woosh, I swooped in with a can of corn, set off the bomb and married the princess.”
Octavia had begun to nod, but realized just what Vinyl had said.
The unicorn laughed at her fillyfriend’s expression. “You weren’t listening to me! I started making things up like five minutes. It was a real work of art.” Vinyl pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “So, what were you thinking about that was more important than me?”
Octavia could hear a slight tone of worry under Vinyl’s bravado. That’s just not playing fair.
She leaned in and softly kissed the DJ.
Vinyl was trying to form some kind of witty statement, but what came out was, “Wha-aa… uh.”
Octavia giggled. “Vinyl, how long have we known each other?”
The DJ put a hoof to her lips. She could still feel the kiss. “Uhhh… Years?”
“Correct. How long did we keep our feelings hidden from each other?”
“Years.” Vinyl was starting to regain some feeling in her mouth.
“Also correct.” Octavia kissed her again. Any muscle coordination Vinyl had regained disappeared in a flash.
“Last question,” continued Octavia. “What could I possibly be thinking about that’s more important than you?”
Vinyl knew that she wouldn’t be able to speak, so she simply shook her head.
“Exactly. Nothing could have been more important than you.” Another kiss.
Octavia began to walk again, Vinyl had to trot to catch up. They were nearly at the restaurant.
The DJ massaged her jaw with a hoof, trying to get some feeling back into it. “Hu—I mean, hey, Octy?”
Octavia turned her head.
Vinyl had a grin plastered across her face. “That was our first kiss. Well, first and second and third kisses.”
The grey mare blushed, slightly surprised at her own daring. “Yes Vinyl. First kiss, first official date. Quite a productive day.”
The unicorn wrapped a hoof around her fillyfriend. They were about to enter the restaurant. “Hey Octy?”
“Yes, Vinyl.”
“… I really did like the movie. And I cried. Which is weird, because I don’t cry for movies.”
Octavia smiled, planting another peck on Vinyl’s cheek.
“Well, dearest Vinyl, there’s a first time for everything.”

(Do I get a dawww?)
Next prompt: Grumpy

942192

Good story. You forgot to leave a prompt. And you didn't tag 934268 (that is Mal) or 934228 (that is Obi). And you got S.S. Brony twice.

YES!! I have gotten posts 50 and 100! I. AM. EPIC.

942226
Through the magic of editing, your comment is now outdated!
YAY MAGIC!

942278
I want to claim this, but I need to get to bed (and I should give others the chance to write). And fuck you.

942302
Yay, I got Syvvak annoyed! Now I feel like I belong

939363 Well worth the wait.

939601 sweet, another great entry.

942192 D'awws for you.

I actually had a crap day at the office. Don't care anymore. You guys rock.