Used one or two of my favorite lines from around. Bonus points if you can identify them and tell me where from (HINT: Not obvious or 'well known.')

Enjoy!

The cool, fresh water broke apart and reformed upon each and every stroke of her arms, ripples sailing towards the sides of the pool as Stella completed the last lap of her swimming circuit.

Wings folded tightly, the mare’s back muscles flexed whilst maintaining perfect breast-stroke form. The sunset and the impending dusk cast a vast, brilliant stream of orange and golden light through the large-paned windows, causing the rippling water to shimmer with a majestic sheen which permeated even underneath. Stella was treated to an almost breathtaking lightshow underwater, one of the many reasons she chose to do her swimming at this time of day...

…which was technically when she would wake up. She was a lunar guard, after all, so her sleep schedule was maintained accordingly.

The Guard Recreation Center (GRC) was sparsely populated at this time, with the majority of other ponies being solar troops who had just finished their shifts for the day. This, more often than not, left Stella as the only batpony present during her twice-weekly swim circuits.

With one last thrust, she reached out and clasped both of her hands to the edge of the pool and opted to just float with her head above water. Spacing out, she caught her breath and allowed her muscles the cooldown they deserved; the oh-so amazing chill that the water provided her hot body did wonders for her pleasantly achy self. After a few moments to herself and with a small huff, she hefted herself up entirely, having her legs to do the rest of the work in extricating herself from the water.

Her mind wandered to nowhere in particular.

Hooves on stable ground now, the dripping-wet Stella—garbed in a plain, gradient -blue bikini—just stood there with her hand on her hip whilst she continued to rein in her breathing.

Her swimwear clung to her body exquisitely, especially since her coat was soaked. From the curvature and natural valley of her bosom (which heaved slightly with each breath she took) down to her more critically acclaimed backside, her curves were accentuated beautifully, and would never fail to draw wandering eyes in more public settings. Her ass drew most of that attention with how shapely her ‘lower’ cheeks were, courtesy of powerful muscle and natural fat being in perfect equilibrium.

And boy, did she enjoy flaunting that butt when appropriate.

Stella’s musculature was much more defined thanks to her exertion and being drenched. Vague six pack definition— normally not entirely visible—could be seen through her coat as the last remnants of the sunlight bathed her taxed body. Toned shoulders, lean biceps, and notably large triceps were often the envy of her fellow mares, but there were just some perks that a career-life as a soldier provided that other occupations could not.

All of this, combined with her flowing, navy-blue mane clinging persistently to her neck and back, as well as those piercing, golden eyes painted the picture of a mare who was truly dangerous... dangerous in a fight, dangerous by virtue of intimidation factor, and dangerous by just the sheer power she could have over any stallion or mare she desired.

But, there was only one individual in particular on which Stella cared to employ this ‘power.’

“Lieutenant Sabre,” a deep voice suddenly destroyed Stella’s calm, pensive stupor.

Instantly looking up, she found a rather tall lunar guard in full armor. He snapped to attention, saluted, and presented her a scroll, one which Stella instantly recognized as one with High Command letterhead.

“At ease, I’m not on duty,” she spoke, reaching quickly for a towel and drying her hand before taking the scroll.

Unfurling it, her eyes scanned over the words with immense scrutiny, but said words did not fail to bring a tired smile to her face upon conclusion of her reading.

As she handed back the scroll, her reply came quite level-headed and nonchalant:

“Look’s like I’m doing something right. Sounds like a plan. Now, do me a favor. Stop staring at me tits and get this back to both Captain Nightshade and Princess Luna. Tell ‘em ‘it’ll be done,’ aye? Or I’ll fuckin’ stuff this up your inbox.”

After saluting once more, the newcomer guard’s stature was much less confident.

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

“Very good,” Stella replied, then gestured toward the door with her thumb. “Now fuck off.”

And with that, he skedaddled.

Stella watched him go, letting herself crack a smile and an eventual chuckle before she finished drying herself off. All the while, she exited out of the GRC and headed back to her barracks with her towel slung over her shoulder. It was an easy walk, and she passed by an occasional guard or castle staff, who paid her little mind in her less-than-public attire.

Well, not overtly at least.

After a couple of minutes, she found herself back in her own ‘castle’ and was stripping out of her swimwear. She was a little hurried at the moment, considering her hangout with Fredrick was scheduled in about twenty minutes, so the objective was to undress, re-dress, grab the videos she rented, and get to his room. Simple stuff.

Her top already off by now, a realization had struck her, forcing her posture to suddenly sag, frustrated.

Shit… I smell like sweat and water. And Fred’s a clean cunt so I need a fuckin’ shower.

It wasn’t that Stella was unclean; quite the contrary. She religiously took care of herself, both in body and in mind (though the latter would prove debatable, depending on whom one asked). Sometimes she’d bathe twice a day if she felt the need. But she was not above practicality. If things were not so bad on her end, and she was pressed for time, she’d forego a shower and take one later. No harm, no foul.

Fred was one of two of her best friends. She knew he wouldn’t care in the slightest.

But, this was a special circumstance.

And it was at that moment that her ‘bunk’ mate, Emeralda, unlocked their door and entered in… finding Stella standing in front of her bed in a pensive gaze with tits out.

The newcomer—an appropriately emerald-maned and eyed thestral—instantly slouched her once rigid posture with a furrowed brow, clearly less than amused.

“Ugh for fuck’s sake, Stella how come every time I come in here you’re half or entirely naked?! Are you planning this shit?”

Stella faced her fully and, pursing her lips, threw her arms out to the side, putting her top half entirely on display to her bunkmate of several years.

“Oi, wouldn’t you like to fuckin’ know!”

She then waggled her eyebrows as she proceeded to squeeze her chest between her arms, smiling seductively.

“Don’t act like ya don’t want a couple slices o’these juicy melons,” Stella punctuated, shimmying her torso invitingly at the increasingly uncomfortable Emeralda.

The latter partially blocked her vision with her hand, turning away.

“I’m quite straight, fuck you very much for the mental image. You know, I can stand occasionally walking in on you, and I’m no prude, but by Luna it’s literally every goddamn time you’re letting your tits and vag just air out…

“…and can you stop wiggling your tongue at me!?”

Her reactions were priceless to the foul-mouthed batpony, and a hearty laugh was had at Emeralda’s expense.

“Oh re-lax, Em. I’m leavin’ for the night anyway, so you won’t have to worry ‘bout that,” Stella replied, bending down and retrieving her bikini top to put back on.

She tied that up, then slung her towel back over her shoulder and retrieved a few specific items of clothing from the closet, also making sure to grab the few movie tapes for tonight’s planned activities with Fredrick.

Emeralda still wasn’t entirely convinced at Stella’s acquiescence.

“Yeah yeah… just like you said a month ago and then I walked in on you railing yourself two days later?” Emeralda called out after her colleague.

Before Stella was out her door, she turned around and pointedly remarked with that toothy smile of hers:

“Hey, for the fuckin’ record, I offered you the chance to join in. There was plenty of room on the other side of the dildo so you’ve got no business feeling left out on that one, love.”

Emeralda growled and flung her hands downward.

“JUST GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Stella giggled impishly into her palm as she scampered away, dressed in nothing more than her aforementioned swimsuit and towel.

As with just a few minutes earlier, any passing lunar guards paid her little heed; Stella was not one to care how she was dressed in front of others, though most ponies had to learn that fact about her the hard way.

Stella’s initial plan was to make her way to the showers, clean up, then dress herself before heading off, but at the last second, she formulated a much better idea.

Hmmm…

Chewing gently on her upper lip, Stella beamed mischievously, immediately high-tailing it out of the barracks.

Back in Fredrick’s room, the human scurried around, cleaning up anything that might’ve been redundant and fixing what might’ve been out of place as he prepped for the relaxing evening with his friend.

He was normally a clean person anyway, as even back on Earth he could not tolerate when things got messy; it would make him feel cramped in his own room, so he did his best to keep everything as orderly as possible. Besides, Fred felt that it said something about his character when one time, he had to wade through a sea of empty bottles of beer and vodka during his college days.

Not one of his prouder moments, especially since it was one of the first times he brought a girl back home.

Regardless, he wasn’t too worried tonight; Stella wasn’t one to judge him on anything, really—something that he always loved about her. Though, she still took the time to jokingly chastise him for anything, as he would the same to her. Such was their relationship.

Fred stopped in his tracks as that thought skated the periphery of his mind.

You’re thinking about her way too much, dude. Cool it, or you’ll drive yourself insane.

He followed this up with a resolution.

Drop the question tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts.

And as if shaking hands with himself, he nodded once curtly and continued setting things up. Since his room was in orderly fashion, Fredrick made sure his clothes—consisting of merely a forest-green t-shirt and some black cargo shorts—were also neat before moving to get the food ready. Just as he had said he would do, he picked up an assortment of fresh fruits that were laid out on a catering-sized circular tray, among other things.

Fred set this ensemble on his dresser and disposed the plastic covering. With sliced pineapple at the center, the appetizing technicolor sampling tray would offer the perfect light snacking opportunity for he and Stella… though more so Stella.

As Fredrick found out several months prior, batponies weren’t actually of the vampire variety (a common misconception, apparently), but more of the fruit-bat variety.

She then promptly told him that she, vampire or not, was still ‘world-class at sucking.’

The human fondly recalled that exchange while he set out more drinks and snacks.

He remembered vividly, that he then followed up cheekily in inquiring if she was the ‘homo’ fruit variety.

Now that earned him a hilarious deadpan and a slug to the shoulder.

With setting a box of chocolate bars out on the edge of the dresser, Fredrick stood victoriously with his hands on his hips, eyeing the (partially literal) fruits of his labor. Everything was set up perfectly, and the video player was ready to go. All that was missing was a certain thestral mare.

*KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK*

Fredrick grinned, turning towards the door and calling out as he made his way over.

“Fuck, you’re punctual! How the hell do you happen to show up whenever I wonder about your arrival?”

“I felt a disturbance in the force,” came the muffled reply from beyond the thick, wooden veil.

The human giggled heartily, gripping the handle.

“Dude I showed you like, the first of the original trilogy on my phone. You got no right to be making jokes about it already!”

“I am the fucking force! Now open the door or I’ll force it open, you twat.”

Rolling his eyes with a smirk, Fred did just that. With a mighty creak, the door opened inward.

“Alright, so everything is…” he began to say but upon seeing Stella quite underdressed, his words trailed off a cliff.

And his eyes, in turn, trailed downward.

In front of him, with a towel slung over her left shoulder, was a bikini-clad Stella, and boy did that swimsuit fit her just right. Most notably, the cups of the top expertly pressed her sweater puppies together so enticingly, that Fred would most certainly not mind getting smothered right about now. It wasn’t that Fred was not often privy to Stella in all of her glory, but oddly enough, he could not remember a time when he had seen her in a swimsuit. He explicitly remembered her donning typical t-shirts, booty shorts, skimpy tank tops, loose midriffs, and the whole nine yards…

But never a bikini.

Huh.

This only complicated his already-muddled mind even more, further reinforcing just how gorgeous this mare was, while simultaneously highlighting his own insecurities.

“Oi yeah, about this…” Stella cut in after feeling his eyes linger, shifting her weight onto her right leg and consequently striking a cocked-hip pose.

Her expression was as nonchalant as ever.

“…mind if I use yer shower, mate?”

“Uhhh… yeah of course!” he managed to sputter out after some mental jogging.

Fred gestured towards the restroom whilst scratching the front of his hairline.

“You umm… you know where the bathroom is.”

Stella instantly perked up with a bright smile, skipping forward and tightly embracing the dumbstruck human. Fredrick could feel her breasts squishing against him just under his own chest… by anatomy they always had to when they hugged. He just noticed it more this time around. This was drowned out when the mare nuzzled her cheek against his, a (much more common, in pony society) gesture that he had come to appreciate.

Further, he was about sixty-nine percent sure that he felt the tiniest fringes of her nipples through the cup fabric.

Oh lawdy…

From his perspective, Stella seemed rather unaware of this fact, even as he reciprocated the smile and hugged her just as tight. Then again, Stella was not one to refrain from teasing him platonically, though admittedly this instance would not really qualify under ‘platonic.’ So, he opted to elect the former scenario.

As for Stella, she found Fredrick’s naivety rather cute. She never let her opinion on this slip throughout the last few weeks, of course, nor did that change when she separated to look at him fully.

“Thank you.”

She pecked him on his left cheek.

“Very much, love.”

And on his right, before bounding straight towards the bathroom, depositing the three videos on the dresser on her way over.

Fredrick scrunched his nose as he took in a lingering, foreign, yet not entirely pleasant combination of scents.

“You smell like sweat and water.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’! Oh, those’re the movies for tonight. Be done in five!” she called back as she shut the door, beginning to run the water.

“Uhh, okay!” came his eager yet unsure reply.

But internally, things were made worse (or better, all things considered) when what Fredrick endearingly referred to as ‘that ass’ had pranced by on full display… all accented by her bikini bottoms.

Jesus Christ. I never asked for this…

Fred had been thinking a lot about Stella in a physical way… much more so than he normally had, and as the human jumped onto his bed and idly lay back, he pondered this. He almost felt bad for doing so, considering how much respect he had for his best friend. He saw her as more than just a good looking mare by all accounts, so he had to remind himself that Stella also thought the world of him; he knew this to be demonstrably true through her own actions, even though his own oblivious twattery.

The amount of times she came to his defense without asking or needing to was a sure sign of this.

But even through the self-reassurance, Fred was not blind to the fact of what lay ahead of him if things did go according to plan.

He sighed out pensively, laying his head back against his folded arms.

“What the hell are you getting yourself into, man?”

Staring at the ceiling again and letting his mind continue to meander with the help of the shower sounds as white noise, Fredrick considered other ‘avenues.’

If you wanted to begin dating, there are quite literally a bunch of other beautiful mares ready to court you should you show even a modicum of interest… if only because you’re different.

You had no attention of this sort back on Earth, mind you.

But no, the one ‘batmare’ army was a good choice.

No matter how he framed it, he knew his decision had been made. Any attempts at last-minute dissuasion ultimately played into his former rationale anyway; each reason he listed that could potentially ‘cause problems’ was almost exactly a reason why he liked this thestral mare in the first place.

Fredrick wanted Stella. That was the simple matter of fact.

The running water abruptly cut off.

“Oi! Shithead! Where the fuck’re yer towels??” Stella yelled through the closed bathroom door.

Opening his eyes, the human angled his head towards said door, smirking at his next words.

“You had a goddamn towel slung on your shoulder when you showed up looking like a competitively-priced call girl, open your fuckin’ eyes!”

“OoooOOooh bringin’ out the banter guns already, you cheeky spunkbubble? And I forgot that I used it to dry off when swimming, so it’s sopping wet!”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Fred replied flatly. “Oh, also: that’s what she said.”

He could barely hear the curt, stifled snort emanate from the bathroom, but he did hear it.

“Oh fuuuck~ off…

“…Ah! Found ‘em! Why’re they in the fuckin’ cabinet above the shitter?” Stella immediately questioned despite her sudden burst of exuberance.

Fred looked almost offended by that inquiry.

“The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Sixteen, and you don’t keep your towels in the closest, easiest to reach place from inside the shower? What kind of savage are you?”

A small bit of silence prevailed as Fred figured his friend was drying herself off. Still, she had every intention of replying to that with her own bemusement.

“The year of our… what?”

“Nothing. Just get out here already!”

The bathroom door swung open on his command, residual steam rising up out of the doorway and disappearing into the room proper… and out sauntered Stella. She rocked a simple, loose black tank top with an identically colored bra underneath and some navy blue mesh shorts to top it all off. The latter matched her mane and tail perfectly—both of which were still damp. Like silken rivers flowing downward over the gentle cartography of her coat, her mane clung to her neck and collarbone, devoid of its ponytail form in which Fred was more accustomed to seeing.

Beautiful.

In the end, the main takeaways were her breasts intermittently, and often tactically on display, as well as those perfectly contoured, powerful legs perpetually on display. That, and he felt she should wear her hair down more; it certainly suited her in a relaxed state.

“I…” she began, holding her arms wide.

“…have arrived.”

Fredrick sat up and leaned his back against the headboard, cocking his eyebrow. He crossed his right leg over his left all the while…

…not like he was trying to hide anything.

“You done?” Fred asked.

In response to Fred’s sarcasm, Stella’s complexion became much smugger.

“Nah mate, the question is: are you done eyeing me up so we can watch the first fuckin’ movie?” she asked, smiling cheekily and returning that raised eyebrow to sender.

She picked up the first video from the stack on the dresser, shaking it idly in her grasp as she stared down her best friend.

Fredrick sat up completely, leaning forward while rolling his eyes.

“Oh you friggin’ wish I was eyeing you up,” he countered.

Stella rolled her eyes in return.

“And there ya go talkin’ shite out yer bunghole,” she shot back, making her way casually over and—putting on her teasing cap for the moment—added some extra sexy sway when she crawled onto the bed, never breaking eye contact.

And despite Fredrick meeting her stare with a stoic one of his own, she could literally smell the insecurity in him, and the subtle coloring of his cheeks proved to her that she won. Again.

She sat next to him on his left and laid back against the headboard before dropping the aforementioned movie in his lap.

She then flashed him that signature smirk, folding her arms back behind her head.

“Play it, bitch. Let’s get started.”

Fredrick examined the plain-black movie box, questioning what they were gonna be watching first.

He flicked his eyes up to her.

“What are we even watching, anyway? This is a blank video case,” he noted.

Stella blinked, and went silent for a moment. Looks like she, too, was not entirely sure.

“I think that’s Tittilating Trannies of Trottingham 2: Electric Boogaloo,” she wagered.

Fredrick, understandably, recoiled quite visibly.

“Wait, you actually serious?”

Stella, for the record, almost looked disturbed at that assertion. As such, she delivered unto Fredrick a friendly, if stern slap to his shoulder.

“Ow!”

“You really think I’d bring over kinky porn and watch it with you?” Stella asked, doing her best to not laugh; she knew exactly what Fredrick was doing.

“Well… yeah, actually,” Fred replied, raising an eyebrow at her whilst nodding as if she was the weird one.

“Dream on, mate. Now play the fuckin’ movie, ya shriveled tackle.”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Fred grumbled, crawling to the foot of the bed to fiddle with the projector, which would display the movie with (surprisingly, he found out in the past) good quality.

On his way down, Stella smacked him right on the left ass cheek.

“GAH!”

“And don’t be whingin’ all mad because I’m hot and caught you looking… for the millionth fuckin’ time,” Stella teased.

“Uh huh, don’t flatter yourself,” Fred flatly riposted, to which Stella offered a hearty giggle coupled with a faux-flirtatious fluttering of her eyelashes.

It was an easy task to set up the movie, as the magically-powered projector worked almost identically to a VCR, and while those were admittedly not as common by a longshot anymore back on Earth, Fred still grew up with them. Ergo, he knew how to work them well, and by extension, this projector contraption was little different.

The movie playing seamlessly (which happened to, in fact, be a cheesy horror flick), Fredrick slunk back into his position, setting some pillows against the headboard so he could lie down somewhat. Stella opted to do the same, and after she brought an entire plate of fruit to nosh on, they lapsed into what one would consider a usual movie-watching routine.

That is, they often formed their own satirical or mocking dialogue to the movie, or simply criticized it and bantered with each other all the while. Their record of doing this was about six hours in the past, and how things were going now, they might’ve been on par with that record come the near future.

“Oh fuh fuuuux sake!” Stella spoke exasperatedly with her mouth full of pineapple.

Shoulder-to-shoulder with her human friend, she slouched against the headboard and gestured open-handed towards the movie projection. She swallowed her food before continuing:

“Seriously, why do ponies feel so fuckin’ compelled to ‘investigate’ when they hear a creepy as fuck noise? I mean, ‘ave a look at this dumb cunt!”

Fredrick nodded softly in agreement, angling his face to Stella.

“Cogent point. Though it wouldn’t really make a difference because apparently it’s a ‘killer ghost,’” he air quoted. “Bitch is dead… oh! There she goes now, let’s see if my theory is proven correct.”

Both of them turned back toward the projection with rapt attention, witnessing a busty unicorn mare in too-tight of a night-gown tip-toe into the mysterious, dark room.

“H-Hello…?

“Anypony t-there…?

Hel—HUH?! AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

And after that sudden, shrill scream, the creepy-looking ghost ripped her throat out, splattering her blood all over the walls. Neither Fred nor Stella flinched at the gory scene. In fact, they actually nodded simultaneously, their expectations confirmed.

“Yup. RIP in peace. Never forgetti,” Fredrick weighed in, crossing his arms as a father would, disappointed at his daughter’s poor life choices.

“That’s another thing, aye? Killer ghosts. I don’t fuckin’ understand the concept,” Stella began, mimicking Fred’s arm orientation.

“It’s a ghost that kills peop—ponies. Therefore, ‘killer ghost.’ Not sure what’s not to get?” Fred questioned.

Stella shook her head pointedly.

“Nah mate. How the fuck can a ghost kill you? It’s an apparition!” she exclaimed, flinging her arms out and letting them drop in her lap.

She then turned to Fred, gesturing her hand down an imaginary pathway.

“Have a little walk down to the graveyard and look along the graves. Know how many say ‘here lies Mrs. Pony, she was fucked to death by a ghost?’ None? Because nopony dies from fuckin’ ghosts!”

Fredrick laughed. Hard. He then faced her, ready to weigh in with what he considered the greatest irony.

“I find it hilarious that we live in a world where you can move and do shit with an often unseen ethereal force known as ‘magic’… and the idea of a ghost that kills things baffles you.”

“Oi, magic actually makes sense; there’s legitimate theory behind it,” she reminded. “This is just absolute fuckin’ bollocks.”

“It’s a shitty movie. What’d you expect, honestly?” Fred genuinely asked.

“Absolute twaddle. Fucking shite… let’s keep watching,” Stella said in an about-face most quintessential of her.

Fredrick loosed another chuckle, and Stella pleasantly surprised him when she scooted a little closer and lay her head on his shoulder. This, also, was not an uncommon occurrence, though Fred knew for a fact that Stella wasn’t much of a cuddler unless the planets aligned properly and a virgin was sacrificed.

In response, Fred lay his head atop of hers. This was as far as it went, and he was more than okay with that.

For now.

“Your ear is tickling my neck,” he noted.

“Pfft! I bet that’s yer fetish, innit?” she countered, chortling.

Fred pursed his lips, deciding to respond the only way he knew how to in these situations with friends: exaggerated, mocking voices… particularly Stella’s accent.

“Oh you know me, Stel’. Aww yeah gurl, gimme dat ear ticklin’. Shite gets me harder than diamonds.”

Stella nearly busted out laughing.

“Mate, if yer gonna take the piss outta me at least have the fuckin’ common courtesy to not have me sound like fat, dying cow. I mean, come on.”

“Yeah well I’m not as sophisticated as you, so…” Fredrick added with trademark sarcasm.

“Oh you’re so very fuckin’ witty, Fred. Now pass me the goddamn gin and let’s finish this movie so we can go to the next one,” the batpony requested in her own way.

Fred was pleasantly reminded that he indeed bought a really nice bottle of gin to go along with tonight. It stood ready to drink on his nightstand, along with two glasses as well as tonic water.

“Right!” he exclaimed, leaning over to his right and fetching the aforementioned bottle off of the nightstand. He would fix himself a drink once he served Stella so he only fetched one glass.

He sat back up and handed both to her.

“Gin and—”

Stella snatched the bottle out of his hand without warning, leaving the glass on its lonesome.

“Cheers!” she stated with a smile, then unscrewed the cap, attached the lip of the bottle to her mouth, and chugged away.

Fredrick’s eyes went as wide as the diameter of the unused glass, and as if watching a train wreck with a horrified reverence, he could not look away from Stella downing a third of the bottle in one go.

The suction gave away with a satisfying pop on her end, and Stella cooed once she had her fill.

“Ahhh, fuck me that went down smooth,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Smooth like cock down a skank’s throat, lemme tell ya.”

Fredrick snorted, slapping his hand to his forehead as he let laughter take him over.

“Have I ever told you that you slay me?” he asked rhetorically through an involuntary grin.

Stella considered his words for a moment, playfully tapping her finger twice against her chin.

“Maybe once or twice,” she answered, then promptly offered him the one-third depleted bottle of gin.

“Have a drink?”

“You know it! Lemme just get my tonic,” Fredrick said, about to lean over to grab the bottle.

Stella, however, had other plans when she gripped him by the shoulder, intercepting his motions and shoving the bottle in his face.

“How ‘bout nae. Drink.”

“But my tonic…”

“Fuck yer tonic. Let’s play a drinking game,” Stella proposed with a child-like smile. “It’s called: ‘drink straight from the bottle you fuckin’ poof.’ Drink it all, you slut!”

Fredrick pursed his lips for the umpteenth time in their friendship.

“I don’t have a throat of steel… which must take ‘practice’ to get, by the way,” Fred countered, garnering a light deadpan out of the mare.

“Ugh so fahnny joke!” Stella replied with a jesting voice, but then switched to a much more ‘sophisticated’ tone, with accompanying exaggerated body gestures:

“But dear me I’m so terribly sorry you have the mouth and throat of a toddler. Please, can I offer you something else, good sir? Perhaps a cup of apple juice? A bottle of milk? A shot of sperm?”

“Alright fine! If you’re gonna be a lil’ shit about it, gimme the damn bottle,” Fredrick huffed, snatching the bottle of gin back and taking a nice big swig, though ‘gulp’ would be a more appropriate term in this case.

After fighting through the instant burn combined with the subtle ginger after-taste, all sliding painfully down his gullet with a distinct lack of delicious tonic water, he released his hold on the bottle and regained control of his breathing.

Considering he almost spit up on himself, Stella was in hysterics, pounding the bed in any effort to contain her guffaw at Fredrick’s expense.

“HAHAHA ahhh fuckin’ hell Fred I love you,” she groaned out, wiping her eyes. “But, now that you’ve proven you at least have knob, let’s finish this movie already!”

Fred decided not to reply, and with that, the mare retook her place leaning her head on his shoulder. Likewise, Fredrick lay his cheek against the top of her head and they continued the movie in earnest. That consisted of the same behavior, namely making fun of the overly-dramatic actors and their crappy decisions which inevitably got them killed.

Starting up the next scary movie, the two felt the need to start ramping their own replacement dialogue.

That was all well and dandy for Fredrick, especially since Stella was the master at coming up with the most hilarious shit on the fly. He honestly did not know how she did it, but he knew for a fact that his life was much more complete with someone as insane as her by his side whenever he wanted or needed…

…and intermittently, when he least expected it.

As the next movie progressed and their joint lethargy exponentiated proportionally to the amount of alcohol flowing through their blood, the two began to relax a little more into each other. This also entailed scaling back their snarky wordage at the video and between each other. Again, this was not an uncommon occurrence, and Fredrick actually looked forward to these little moments that he had with his good-looking friend. After all, though he was a cuddler and—as previously reflected upon—Stella wasn’t, he still enjoyed the tamer physicalities of their strong bond.

It was just a perk that this time, due to a combination of their position, his height over hers, and her clothing, he was treated to one of the greatest bird’s eye view downshirts in all of human history.

Fred, no…

Fred, yes.

A simple flick of his eyes from the movie downward treated him to her smooth, supported breasts in full real-life HD definition. Her cleavage did not look forced in the slightest, as her bra only served to do its intended purpose: support her modest yet still sizeable mounds. Ergo, nothing looked bloated or less-than-perky. Fredrick’s eyes delicately traced the curvature of her mammaries, starting from her upper chest and following their periphery down into her simple bra… where he knew exactly what lay underneath but still did not detract from his desire to see for himself.

Then he settled his vision squarely on her cleavage, which held nary a blemish nor roughness to it. Just smooth, continuous skin (and a thin layer of coat) from both of her breasts compressing together to form that mouth-watering slit… so simple in nature yet tantalizing for those like him who gave more than their fair share of appreciation to boobs.

He knew exactly what he was doing, perving somewhat on his best friend. Even so, he knew he wasn’t objectifying her, but if the eye-candy presented itself, he saw absolutely no issue in stealing a glance.

Or in this case, a goddamn buffet helping.

“You’re not being sneaky, I hope you know that,” Stella suddenly blurted out, and the slight upturn of her inflection told Fred all he needed to know.

Straight. Up. Caught.

And he figured he’d take the most common approach to weasel out of something like this: play the idiot.

“Dude, what’re you talking about?” he replied with a rehearsed confidence, though he had to get control of his internal temperature immediately.

Their positions never changed, and Stella only sighed out and chuckled.

Fred could practically feel the incredulous eye-roll.

“Oh don’t fuckin’ gimme that load of bollocks, mate. You honestly believe I can’t tell when you’re staring at me tits or arse? Come on I thought we established this when I was gashed! I know. Every. Time.”

Fred was about to reply, but Stella turned her head up at him, took one look at his face, and snickered loudly.

“And you looking like you’re about to sweat out yer own spinal fluid tells me all I need to know.”

At this point, Fred knew he wouldn’t be able to play this off, so he figured the second best approach now was potential damage control.

He took a deep breath (under Stella’s cheeky gaze) and broke the pregnant silence with a resounding:

“Sorry.”

He then turned back to watch the movie and hope this would all blow over, but Stella wasn’t quite done yet. Her face was as nonchalant as ever… mixed with her trying not to laugh her ass off.

“Oh fuck off with your ‘sorry’ you know you’re not! And you shouldn’t be! They’re kinda… in the open” she said, nudging her left ‘girl’ for emphasis.

Again, she had something else to append.

“I’ve been waiting but I guess I gotta spell it out: if you’re gonna ogle me at least put some goddamn effort into it and have a real look up—or down—at them and stop being, as you say, a lil’ bitch!” she challenged, sticking a finger in his face.

Being honest with himself, the sudden prodding, even in its joking roots, began to annoy him ever so slightly.

“Oh really? You’d just let me look at your tits and ass just like that? Hmm?” he retorted with sarcastic cautiousness.

Stella, for the millionth time this evening, rolled her eyes… and after huffing out in blatant irritation, she swung her left leg over Fred’s legs and straddled his knees. She then gestured, open-palmed, to both of her breasts which were barely a foot in front of the increasingly ‘frustrated’ human’s face.

“Right here. Go on then! I don’t fucking mind and apparently you’re too daft to get that,” she spoke with more solemnness in her voice.

She placed a lone hand on the stunned, blinking Fred’s shoulder.

“You’re my best mate. I trust you with me life for fucks sake so how about you not be a hot penis about this and just look when you want!

“My. Best. Mate. If it brings you that much pleasure then fucking take a privilege for once in yer fuckin’ life, you shaven twat!

“…And for the record, I’m actually flattered. Fuck me, sometimes yer just so fuckin’ dense it’s like light bends around your head!” she ended her rather gentle tirade.

As for Fredrick—with literally all the permission in the world given to him—he let out a massive breath and took Stella up on her simultaneous challenge and demand, though not without glancing back up at her face. A few of her navy locks veiled portions of her eyes as she stared back at him, urging him onward.

So, he looked.

No, he stared; ogled. Like he had been staring not even a couple minutes prior, Fredrick allowed himself a much more intimate, closer look at the half-covered breasts that he had been (secretly) fantasizing about over the last week or so. With them so close to his face, he was privy to a few extra details, such as her boobs gracefully heaving with each and every breath Stella took… which seemed oddly deep and long, now that he thought of it.

And, Fred felt he should not be surprised if Stella felt something else ‘long’ in her field of vision should she decide to look down.

No matter, she probably knew anyway.

He just decided to take the opportunity afforded to him on a diamond-studded golden platter and just… stare to his heart’s content.

Just… wow.

This is it. You won a universal scratchcard lottery somewhere.

Oh how he’d love to just smash his face into her chest right now, press his nose to her sternum and breathe in her scent as her pillows enveloped his cheeks. Thoughts like these, as well as those of the much lewder variety ran marathons through his mind… and as much as he’d love to just slide his hands up her taut torso and palm both of her breasts to bloat that cleavage of hers, he knew proper restraint.

Thus, subconsciously, he settled on just resting his hands comfortably on her thighs. No one protested.

Though all things considered with his luck at the moment, he figured Stella would not have minded if he did just go for her tits in full.

And he would’ve been right, actually.

Stella enjoyed every bit of him staring straight into her ‘canyon,’ as it were… if her victorious, toothy grin was anything to go by. She even stretched her tank top down to make it a little tighter fit up there and give Fredrick that much better of a view; she knew he’d appreciate it. After all, he wasn’t the only one getting pleasure out of this. She was not shy about her appearance, and knew that she looked good, but still being able to get a rise (literally and figuratively) out of someone like Fredrick was exciting in its own right. A pleasant heat rose above her diaphragm and coalesced in her cheeks, knowing that her human friend found her both physically attractive and enjoyed her personality to boot. She meant every word she said; he could look any time he wanted and she would not mind in the slightest.

For now, she waited patiently until Fred would have his fill, and all the while, her smile refused to wane.

“Ahem,” Stella spoke up again, breaking Fred’s concentration on that magnificent chest of hers just enough to meet her gaze.

“Welcome back, cunt! Like what you see?” she asked.

Fred didn’t even want to warrant that with a response, but felt he was obligated to in the moment.

“Is that even a fucking question? They’re perfect,” he admitted, which extorted another giggle out of the straddling mare.

A very feminine one at that.

“Ahh, so he does have some spine, innit? Thanks, mate… but, there’s also one other thing I’m wondering,” she began anew, and the sudden onset of suspense was putting Fredrick on edge.

This didn’t seem like a normal, playful question.

Treading carefully, he asked:

“…Yeah? What’s that?”

Stella tenderly let her palms snake up Fred’s arms and firmly grip his shoulders. Her golden eyes bore into his own and at that moment, he felt that she could read his mind… see into his very thought process.

She lidded her eyes and flashed those fangs of hers… and with one last, deliberate movement, she flipped some of her mane out of her face.

“I’m wondering… when you’re gonna manufacture a proper ballbag on the assembly line and ask me out like you know you want to, hmmm?”

In an effort to curtail how surprised and stunned he had become in a small time interval, he did his best to stare back blankly… and though he was able to control his inner temperature, it did little to sway Stella’s accusations and superior ability to read others.

That, or he was just retarded, which was also likely.

Still, this few-seconds deliberation did nothing to detract from the sudden onset of awkwardness. What was he supposed to do? Just… go for it? He figured that half the charm came from her not expecting it. As a result, Fred tried one last time to salvage things in his favor.

“That’s an oddly specific wonder, I have to say.”

Naturally, Stella was less-than enthused at that response.

“Are you really gonna make me do this myself? I’m giving you wider opening than a fat whore’s fuckhole and you’re gonna throw dodgy sarcasm at me?”

She released his shoulders and crossed her arms under her chest.

“Look love, you can either take the initiative that you and I both know you want to, or I can do it m’self and it’ll be less fun, OR you can actually surprise me and prove me wrong… that you don’t actually like me,” she offered.

Fredrick’s eyes locked squarely with Stella’s, though this was interrupted when she tantalizingly leaned her trunk forward, exposing herself partially to him again.

She pressed the tip of her nose to his, and smiled quite knowingly.

“So, what’s it gonna be, dickead?”

There was absolutely no way out now. Fred had planned to drop the question during the middle of the next movie when both of them were much more tranquil, but it seems that fate, going by another alias ‘Stella Sabre,’ had other plans. As much as he did not care for the current situation to drop something pivotal (he was more than fine with her straddling him in any circumstance), it appeared that he’d just have to face the music and get this over with.

This would be simultaneously the most eventful yet uneventful courting, ever.

Fredrick looked away for a split second, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to line up his thoughts.

“Hey Stella?” he asked.

The mare in question righted her posture to get a better look at the whole ‘happening.’ Her response was almost sarcastic.

“Hmmm? Oh! Yes Fredrick, how can I help you?”

Fredrick took in another breath, and like a child being forced to admit his crimes, he added:

“I’ve… kinda liked you for a little while now for many reasons, none of which I’ll get into right now. I was wondering if you’d let me take you out to dinner? Or do something out that you like?”

His words came out without a stutter or a hitch in his breath unlike he initially planned. Then again, Stella was quite literally extorting what he wanted to say out of him, so words weren’t really a problem anymore.

As for Stella, she tilted her head cutely to the left. Her tone of voice remained, annoyingly, exactly the same.

“Whaaaaa?? Fuuuck off~ you wanna take me out?” she asked, placing her hand on her chest. “As in… you want me to be your marefriend?”

“O-Okay are you seriously doing this right now?” Fred asked, expressionless.

This was not how any of this was supposed to go. Why did he expect anything to go according to plan with Stella?

“But my answer to your sudden question, Fredrick…” she continued, ignoring Fred’s little interjection.

“...is ‘what the fuck took you so long?’ Mate, I’ve been waiting for like, two months for ye tae make a move. I was gonna give you another two weeks before I fuckin’ did somethin’ about it!”

Fred genuinely looked curious at that statement.

“Wait, you mean you like me too?!”

Stella looked like she wanted to strangle him for stating the obvious.

“Fucking duh!” she exclaimed. “You think all the extra teasing was just because I felt like it? Nah mate. You told me that it’s usually the male who makes the first move on whatever place you're from; it’s not evenly split like us, or I’d’ve tried to snag you at least a month or two back, you idiot!”

Of all the things Stella had called him and others, ‘idiot’ was probably the most generous. Further, Fred had to stifle the urge to blurt out ‘why?’ in response to her assertion that she liked him in return.

And why did he feel like he was back in high school or some shit?

“Well… this is the most awkward yet not-awkward mutual-interest exchange I’ve ever been in,” he reflected out loud, running a hand over the back of his neck.

Stella was more than inclined to disagree with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Nah mate, shit’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Golden rule. But on a more important note...” she said, her voice becoming much softer.

Her entire visage seemed to soften, actually, and she cast a warm smile unto Fredrick, who could not help but return the sudden gesture.

“Dinner does sound nice, by the way,” Stella admitted.

Fred’s hands subconsciously regained their tender hold on her lower thighs.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, ending with a somewhat goofy grin of his own.

Jesus, is that it? Do I have a girlfriend now? Just like that? Where’re the butterflies and rainbows and shit? My tax dollars not at fucking work.

Stella nodded.

“Yeah, it does. I’ll think of something, don’t worry. But I feel there’s something more important I should let you know…”

Fred leaned his head back against the headboard, and unlike other times, he had no problems with holding eye contact.

“Whaddya mean?”

Stella placed a single lock of her mane behind her ear.

“It’s no secret I like to move fast with things; I’m not really shy about that aspect of my life with you,” she began.

Fred grumbled under his breath.

“Whoa, really?”

“Fuck off,” Stella addressed his less-than-public words. “Anyway, even so, I know that you’re… a little more cautious with things and life in general. Pussy.”

“Ayy.”

“Either way, I’m willing to slow things down for you. In the end, I honestly don’t think things will change much at first, but, being completely honest, if this works out, we’ll take things more at your pace. Alright?” she clarified.

Fred, however, was left with an amused smirk.

“Damn, Stel’. Never seen you so… emotional. And you’re getting right down to the fine print.”

“Oi!” the batpony barked. “I’m bearing my fuckin’ soul here. This poofery is hard enough as it is for me without you poofing it up and takin’ the piss outta me, you fuckin’ poof!

“Ahem.

“Now, I believe here’s where I’m legally obligated to disclose something to you.”

That certainly caught the human off guard.

“Oh god… do I even wanna know?”

Stella lidded her eyes sensually…

...then slowly leaned in.

Is this bitch really…?

Still, he felt compelled to meet her half-way, and he angled his face towards her muzzle.

Only for her to immediately deny him and slip past his cheek, her mouth right by his ear. Thus, he was left with his lips slightly parted, looking like some schmuck who got denied a random kiss.

Figures.

“I have no issues taking shit slow,” she whispered into said ear with a massive, dimple-laden smile.

“But I suggest you strap in, ‘cause it’s gonna get fuckin’ weird, love. In the best of ways.”

As usual, Stella always had something else to add:

“But I promise that you’ll love every minute of it,” she concluded, and punctuated by flicking her tongue against his earlobe before pulling back entirely.

Fredrick, by all accounts, should’ve been jumping for joy right now. He got exactly what he wanted.

But his expressionless face played host to a profound uncertainty and an even stronger desire to know more about what Stella meant by her last words.

Oh Neptune…