Blueblood’s life was, he would readily admit, a pretty charmed one, as lives go. The son of an incredibly well-off pair of executives, he made it into college on his looks and his last name. Of course, Blueblood wasn’t his legal name — a self-fashioned moniker that carried a certain weight with it — but then again, his real name was also just as impressive as his nickname. Unfortunately, his money and prestige was not quite enough to get him further than a few states away from home, but at least he was nearly guaranteed to graduate with a solid degree in any subject he wanted, to ease gently into the life of a businessman without such pesky things as skill or a personality to hold him back.

With that out of the way, he was free to spend most of his days and nights simply hanging around his frat house with his brothers, shooting pool, drinking and playing Xbox until the sun came up the next morning. He was there for his brothers, and not there for pretty much anything else life had to offer.

One overly entitled blonde girl who worked at the campus bookstore was less than nothing to him. Of course, if he had been able to turn her into his latest conquest, it would have been worth some serious bragging rights — she was somewhat famous around his frat house for her looks, if not her waspish personality — but her turning him down only mildly bruised his ego. Besides, there was another girl he had his sights on.

Rarity Belle. She was the most eligible hottie around, and even though her split with his frat brother was recent, she had always been in Blueblood’s sights. Out of respect for his friend, he had stayed away. That was no longer a deterrent, and with Rarity being on the market again, he was willing to wait a week or two for the dust to settle before making his move.

That is, before she had just texted him well past midnight, asking if her ex was saying anything about her behind her back. He was, of course, but this was a useful catalyst for Blueblood to acquire that which made his showers with the other guys awkward once; which he had to blame on not being able to get an attractive model out of his mind before they would stop accusing him of being a fag or something. After all, he just couldn’t come right out and say “Sorry, dude, but your girlfriend gets me hard.”

There are some things dudes just don’t say to other dudes.

But now the time had arrived. He was on his way to Rarity’s sorority with his sports car’s radio blasting and a condom in his pocket. Things were finally looking up, and going just the way he wanted them to.

That is… until he spotted the lone girl in a dress stranded on the side of the road.

There was no other car nearby, but that didn’t mean anything to him. His first thought was ‘easy pickings’, but he suppressed that impulse. Rarity was waiting for him. Should he really stop for some random chick when the woman of his dreams was anxiously awaiting him to be a shoulder to cry on?

In the end, his conscience did tug at him a little — but only because the closer he got, the more attractive she looked. Long, dark hair that shined in the reflection of his headlights, and a face that looked like it belonged on a model. She was a little thin, true. And at first glance her tits left something to be desired… but those legs. Now those he would love to feel wrapped around his waist.

His decision made, he began slowing down. She waved even harder for a second before gathering up the bottom of her dress and jogging closer.

“Need a lift, beautiful?”

“Yeah,” she laughed nervously. “I’m so sorry, I just… this must all look really weird and cliché, but if you could help me get to a gas station or something, I’d really appreciate it… so much.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you would,” he said — more under his breath than to her. Thumbing the button on his door to unlock the passenger side, he said, “Hop in, I can help you.”

Grinning in a way that made her natural beauty light up like the sun, she gushed, “Thank you! You’re saving my freaking life, here!”

Blueblood noticed the way her smooth legs and shapely calves peeked out through the slit in her dark purple dress as she climbed into the car. If he was lucky, maybe he could score her number on the way to Rarity’s. It never hurt to have a backup plan, after all.

“You look nice,” he commented, flicking his eyes back up to hers as she shut the door and turned to look up at him. “What happened? Get stood up?”

Shaking her head, she settled back against the seat, her little handbag squeezed tightly between shaking fingers. “Oh my gosh… do you have time for a story?”

“I got a little bit,” he chuckled as he shifted into drive and pulled away from the shoulder of the road. “I’m Blueblood, by the way.”

“Wow, cool name,” she said, grinning widely. “I’m Twily.”

Over the next couple of miles, Twily spun a tragic tale of a girl whose boyfriend had been so wrapped up in partying that he didn’t even notice his best friend hitting on her until she had to break a punch bowl over his head to get him to leave her alone. The party ended with her being completely ostracized, leaving in tears and hating the world.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, in a voice that very nearly sounded earnest. “I didn’t even see your mascara in the dark… if I’d noticed, I’d tell you that I have some tissues in the glove compartment.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said shakily as she opened it and took one, dabbing at her cheeks to remove the dark stains — which hadn’t actually been there before she mentioned them. Not that he would have noticed. “So, um… do you do this a lot? Pick up stray girls on the side of the road?”

Shrugging, he guided them around the corner towards the city skyline, which was slowly becoming brighter as they approached. “Not all that often, but this isn’t the first time. It’s a college town; parties happen, shit goes bad. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, I do know,” she snorted and then blew her nose before tucking the used napkin into her clutch. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” Then, turning the full intensity of her bright purple eyes — they had to be contacts lenses — on him, she asked, “So where were you off to before I rudely interrupted you?”

“Nowhere, really,” he found himself saying. “Just, uh, helping another friend. But that can wait a couple extra minutes to get you to this gas station, right?”

“I guess it can,” she said quietly as they rolled up to the pump. The gas station was more or less deserted, being one on the outskirts of town, and at the moment there was only one other car filling up. “Helping your friends is important… helping strangers is moreso,” her voice was almost a whisper. Blueblood was about to ask what she meant when she followed up with, “I, um, I don’t have any cash on me… sorry, I didn’t think I’d be going anywhere that I needed it, but if you give me your number, I can try and get you some later.”

Anybody would have seen his hands flex in anticipation on the steering wheel. “Sounds great.” He waited until she took her phone out her clutch, then told her the numbers. “And hey, seriously, I’d take dinner with you over cash for the gas.”

“What?” She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering.

“I mean, if you’d be interested,” he backpedaled, but only the tiniest bit. “I know you just got out of a nasty thing and all, but I’m just saying… I’m kind of into you.”

Her eyebrows drew together slightly as she processed what he was suggesting. “Are… are you making a pass at me, even though I just kind of got dumped for not letting a guy force himself on me?”

Blueblood forced himself to look a little chagrined. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“No, no,” she breathed, her smile changing to something else altogether. Before it had been innocent, embarrassed, maybe even a little shameful. Now, it was… “You, uh, you really do have some brass ones, don’t you? Picking up hitchhikers, making plays for girls who are technically taken…”

He squirmed. “Yeah, okay, yeah. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to let you leave without at least telling you I kind of dig what you got.”

“That’s cool. You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“Really?” It was time. If he didn’t press this advantage, he couldn’t be sure that she would be as receptive if-or-when they had that dinner date. Leaning in slightly, his hand grazed the skin of her upper arm — just one finger, for now. “Not so bad enough to call me about hanging out soon?”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t move otherwise, blinking as her mouth popped open slightly. “Aren’t… you going to be late to help your friend?”

“I’m helping one right now,” he murmured, leaning in slightly as she pinched her bottom lip between white teeth, looking coyly up at him as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her little purple-and-gold, star-shaped earrings were the perfect accent, and complimented her dress astoundingly.

“Blueblood…”

The kiss was rich and so full of everything he had been seeking from his other relationships that he found himself forgetting all about Rarity, about the girl at the bookstore… every other girl he’d been with, or had turned him down. None of them mattered compared to Twily. At least, not at the moment, they didn't. Maybe afterwards…

After a few seconds, as her hands smoothed over the collar of his polo shift, one of his began to inch south, gathering up her dress from the hem until he could feel her calf against his knuckles.

“Hey, w-wait a second, I—”

“Shhh,” he shushed, ignoring the trembling coming from her body. “You had a bad night. I just want to make it better.” And he continued his slow progress. Slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, but quick enough that he didn’t lose his mind, he began to skim his hand up her thigh. When it got closer to her hip, he slid inward.

And then met resistance. Hard resistance.

“Wait, what the f—”

“What’s wrong?” she breathed, still in that flustered tone that made him not sure what to think. Did she know, or was she legitimately confused? “Blueblood, are you okay?”

“I… I just— something is— do… do you have a concealed carry permit, or something?”

“A concealed…” her brow furrowed, concerned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But by now he didn’t even need to ask. It was warm and soft, exactly like flesh — not the cold metal of a gun, which he suddenly found himself wishing it was more than he cared to admit.

“Uh… hey, listen,” he began to laugh nervously. “I don’t know what’s going on down there, but I, um, I wasn’t really expecting to find…”

“Find what?” Then she inhaled sharply, as if just now understanding the problem. “Oh! Oh, you mean my ‘Little Twily’?”

Nodding slowly, he glanced between where his hand was and her face, and back down again, confusion and dawning horror keeping him from pulling his hand away. From outside, there was no indicator that anything other than a dress was there. How the hell could he have known? But now, he was in an incredibly awkward situation in which he could only ascertain that he was touching someone else’s penis.

This… was Blueblood’s worst nightmare, in a perfectly literal sense. He had spent nearly every waking moment since that locker room debacle feeling obscenely paranoid that everyone would think he was gay — and even worse, they might also be gay and assume he wanted to fuck them. That just couldn’t happen. The world had to go on just not assuming, but knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was straight as a freeway.

But now, here we was, touching something that most definitely wasn’t a female body part. And although he didn’t want to examine everything in detail, he also knew he was decidedly turned on. Maybe not by the thing itself, just from the previous passions a minute ago… or maybe both? Everything felt so mixed up and confused that he couldn’t discern his fears from the reality of the situation. He didn't want to like it, didn’t want to even think about liking it. This wasn’t acceptable. His entire life would be simply thrown into chaos.

“Blueblood, you’re scaring me,” Twily whispered, and he felt it twitch. Oh, god, it twitched! “Talk to me, okay? What’s the matter?”

“Sorry... s-sorry, I…” No, this wasn’t what he signed up for. He was abandoning ship. “Look… I’m sure you’re a great person and all, and I was happy to help you, but this isn’t… I mean I’m not a…”

“Not a what?”

Grimacing, he forced his voice to drop an octave — even though the gas station was empty. How long had it been empty? The lights were off, except for the ones on the pump indicating that it was in service. “You know… I just, I’m not into guys. You understand.”

“Oh. Well, I mean… I understand.” Her voice sounded a little hurt, but as she went on, it began to pick up a little. “You don’t want to be with a guy. That’s cool. No problem, since I’m not one, right?”

“Whatever,” he grunted as he began to back away. “The point is, I’m not buying whatever it is you’re selling, so—”

“Wait! Don’t go just yet.”

And then he found he couldn't. At first, he thought she had reached a hand down and grabbed his wrist — but both of her hands here still on his chest. How the hell did that happen?!

But a second later, when he jerked away from inside of her dress, his hand came free as if nothing had happened. Staring blankly at her lap, he began to wonder if he had imagined everything — all of it, from the point at which he first felt the dick until now.

“What’s— how the… sorry,” he sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe… maybe I should let you get back to, um, that thing you were going to do.”

“But I don’t want to leave yet.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you have to.”

“No.”

Both of his eyebrows lifted. “What?”

‘“I said I’m not going anywhere,” she said stubbornly. “Not until I’ve finish what you started.”

Then she moved. It was with force and certainty, and with her leg slithering over his, her hips moving inwards as she deftly leaned over him to recline the seat back as far as it would go. His voice sputtered in his ears, and he felt her hands press down onto his shoulders, pinning him down into the seat.

“Wait— you— what are you doing? You can’t do this!”

“Of course I can,” she whispered, leaning down to bite his bottom lip — hard. As her hips came down to press directly against his, there was no mistaking what he had thought he felt before. It was even larger than his own, and he found himself whimpering. “Shh… I’m just helping you,” she soothed, her tone doing nothing to placate the heart pounding in his chest. “You’ve had a bad night. I just want to make it better.”

“Why?!” he gaped up at her as she loomed over him. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because this is what I do to misogynistic, transphobic, sleazy womanizers!” she suddenly hissed — in a voice that was steadily growing darker, deeper. One hand moved down to begin fumbling with his jeans and, incredibly, he couldn’t throw her off. How could one woman who looked to weigh no more than one-twenty possibly keep him from sitting up with only a single arm?!

No!” he shouted weakly. “Stop, this is… what are you doing?”

“Taking you as my own.” Her eyes, once purple and sparkled like jewels, now blazed with a crimson light as she unzipped him, shifting backwards to position herself. “Making you a woman. Making you my woman.”

“What?! Don’t— you’re crazy! This is— wait…” and then he shoved his hand down the front of his pants to try to stop her, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs. Something wasn’t right. A very important something wasn’t there. Oh God, where did it go?!

“Hold on!” Her grin was all teeth as he felt something poke the back of his hand. “I like to ride ‘em rough and bareback!”

Both of his eyes squeezed shut as he turned his face aside, tears leaking down his cheeks. “Stop! Please! You can’t do this, I—I don’t want it, I don’t! This can’t be happening! Stop!!!”

Her mouth grazed his ear, her teeth pinching his lobe, and she whispered, “I will if you will…”

And then… nothing. After a few seconds, he opened both his eyes.

And found that he was on the side of the road. Exactly where he had picked up the hitchhiker in the first place -- and there was no sign of her anywhere. When he finally thought to check his pants, they were properly fastened, and all the contents were present and accounted for. Nothing had happened to permanently alter his life, to make him into something he wasn’t.

“Oh.” he laughed weakly, still soaked in sweat. “It was a dream… just—just a dream. She’s… right, yeah. I’m so fucking stupid.”

However, as he reached for the keys in the ignition to continue his drive toward Rarity and his original goal, he noticed something that caught the light of his stereo’s LED display. Reaching toward the passenger seat with a shaky hand, he plucked two tiny objects from the leather.

Purple-and-gold, star-shaped earrings. No girl he knew of wore them — not one of them, except…

His scream echoed as his tires squealed, kicking up dust and dirt and scaring more than a handful of wildlife as he drove off into the night.

“Oh, man!” Sunset cackled madly, completely beside herself after having heard the play-by-play retelling of the entire encounter. “You have no idea how much I wish I could have seen that!”

Grinning smugly, somewhat in pure jubilance, Twilight handed the phone back to her from inside her clutch. “Then you should check your phone; a few of the more… interesting shots are on there now. Plus his contact info, if you wanted it.”

More excited than she perhaps should have been, Sunset did a flip through the camera roll. There were plenty of shots of a shocked Blueblood, one of Twilight on top of him, and even a short video clip of him frantically searching for a dick that had gone temporarily missing. She had no idea how Twilight had managed to get such great shots while doing all this to the guy, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. Howling with laughter, she fell back on the couch and kicked her legs in the air, delighted.

“So you approve?”

“Totally!” she finished breathlessly. “I… wow, I am so sorry I ever doubted you! And you even included the part about him being a misogynist?”

“Absolutely — and I even threw in transphobic, since he was having kittens when he found out I was packing.”

As her laughter subsided, she looked a bit more keenly at the goddess. Her wings and horn had returned, she was back in her seemingly random assortment of clothing — her sleek, purple dress had gone when she re-appeared in her living room, looking no worse for the wear — and her skin was purple again. But, aside from the obvious, she simply looked like a very appealing human woman. Not in the otherworldly sense, and not even ‘supermodel’ level by normal standards. Just… pretty.

“You know, you’re pretty progressive for a magical pony god from another world,” she said instead.

“Yeah, well, us ponies are pretty up-to-date, too, you know. But that wasn’t what you were going to say.”

“How do you do that?!” When Twilight only laughed, Sunset blushed a little before blurting out, “You’re pretty.”

The thing that surprised her the most, aside from Twilight’s first appearance in her bathroom, was that the goddess actually lowered her head bashfully. It might have been an affectation designed to make her appear more human, of course — and she had insisted that she never once lied to her. So if it wasn’t, then that was not a display of modesty she had thought to see from some kind of god-pony-girl.

“Thanks. I mean, um, I usually don’t hear that kind of thing anymore. Everypony is usually to focused on the whole ‘Wow, she’s an immortal goddess’ thing.”

“Oh.” Clearing her throat, Sunset tried to push past the moment for Twilight’s sake, since she seemed to be genuinely embarrassed. “What I meant was, you can transform into anything you want, apparently. I guess what I’m trying to say is, why do you choose to look like this? Why keep your skin purple when you can clearly change it to something more normal? I get why you'd probably wanna keep your wings; they're clutch as fuck, but what about your horn?” She shook her phone for emphasis, referring to the pictures of her and Blueblood; she had changed her entire skin tone to that of a girl far fairer than her usual purple complexion for the job. Likewise, her wings and horn were nowhere to be seen and her hair was a simple, elegant shade of black. “Like, you’re really pretty, but you could be anyone. Like, supermodel-grade or like, an actress or something. So…”

Nodding in understanding, Twilight took a seat beside Sunset on the couch. “You’re wondering why I ‘settled’ for this form instead of something more outstanding. That’s fine.” She held up a hand to wave off any apologies. “You have a point. But… well, I guess you wouldn’t really believe me.”

“There’s a magical pony princess in my living room,” Sunset deadpanned. “Try me.”

Twilight considered, but shook her head. “A story for another time. Let’s just say it's the form I feel the most comfortable in — besides my own — and leave it at that.” Then she tilted her head slightly. “So you’re happy with the results? No second thoughts or take-backsies?”

“Well, yeah. I mean no. I mean, you didn’t really hurt him, just woke his ass up a little. I’m cool with that.”

“Are you sure?”

Sunset frowned. “You kinda make it sound like I shouldn’t be.”

“I’m just making sure. Because after tonight, there are no take-backsies. The consequences of this action will keep rippling into the future.”

“I don’t… what do you mean? Like… a butterfly effect? How could you stop the consequences? You already scared the fuck out of him. That’s kind of over and done with.”

Twilight folded her legs underneath her, her poodle skirt fluffing up around her knees. Her wings stretched out behind the couch, ruffling a little as they flexed, and and she frowned thoughtfully, considering how to best explain. “Let’s just say… with divinity comes certain privileges. And as they relate to my power with humans on your world, and the jobs I do, I guess you can say I have an ‘undo’ button. I can’t change how we handled the situation in any way, but, before my time is up, I could remove it; reset everything back to how it was before we intervened. Young Blueblood’s night would continue on as if he never met me on the side of the road. That would very well mean that he makes poor Rarity’s night even worse than it already was, since that was his original plan, whether or not he understood the implications — or cared about them.”

“But, then again,” she shrugged. “All actions have consequences.”

Sunset frowned, decidedly unsettled about what she'd heard about her former friend during Twilight's retelling of her encounter with Blueblood, but at the same time unwilling to look too deeply into it. Rarity was a big girl; she could handle her own affairs, and seemed perfectly willing to do so.

Still, she considered Twilight's explanation. “I think I get it,” she nodded, beginning to understand now. “And you said only for the jobs you do. Which means that you can’t really alter time in ways other than that.”

“You got it.” Then Twilight grinned. “You’re actually pretty clever… you know, for a newbie.” Sunset grumbled, but she laughed. “So, you’re happy with the results?”

“Yeah. Nobody died, nobody even got hurt. He just had to put up with being made to feel like we feel all the time because of assholes like him. And that’s a good thing.”

Nodding, Twilight neither agreed nor disagreed with her as she stood and patted down her skirt. “Then I guess my work here is done. And I could use a nap.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Sunset also shot to her feet, taking a small step forward. “I thought you said we could start with Blueblood. He’s not the only one I really wanted to—”

“Patience,” Twilight assured her, lifting her hand to touch her index finger to Sunset’s lips. It was a lot warmer than she had been expecting, and not an altogether unpleasant warmth. “We’re just getting started.” Then she drew back quickly. “Oh… sorry. I forgot that you’re kinda skittish.”

“It’s fine,” Sunset grunted, waving it aside. She didn’t care as much about that anymore, now that the goddess had proven she was no threat to her personally. As far as that could be proven, anyway. “So, will you be back tomorrow?”

“I might. Call me — I’m in the book.”

Snorting at the joke, Sunset followed her to the bathroom. “Alright. Is there… I mean, if there are any rules to calling you, I’d rather know them now than later.”

“Summoning circles only work for a short time; basically, the magic can usually only sustain us for a matter of hours. Also, a general rule of hoof is that you can’t summon more than once in the same time period. There are exceptions, of course, but those are really rare.”

“And… if I want to make sure I get you, and not another random pony-goddess?”

Twilight chuckled, “Well, there aren’t many alicorns available to answer summons, but… just name me. Name me and concentrate on who I am to you. Your request will reach me.” Then she stood on the spot where she had appeared, where the markings and shapes remained on the floor. “Sleep well, Sunset. See ya.”

“Okay, I’ll see y—ah!”

The blinding flash and pop was enough to cut her off, and she threw her arm across her eyes just a moment too late. By the time the spot in her eyes were gone, she was alone.