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Hey guys, Eqd derped hard; here’s the link to

Chapter Two!

aaaaand new Chapter Three, just in case shinaniganz

sigh... damn it seth


Moving On - Chapter One


I lie in bed, languidly stretching out with a contented moan. Warm half-memories of my dreams flit across my mind as I revel in the comfort of the downy mattress and light, silken sheets. A low rumble of thunder and the powerful smell of an early morning rainstorm flood my room through the open window. A perfect morning to sleep in. A tingling sensation finds my hoof sliding down my taut belly. I bite my lip and arc my lower back slightly. Turning my head to the side, I bite down on my pillow and get a mouthful of my tangled mane. Thoughts of strong wings, gentle hooves and nipping teeth fill my sleep-hazed mind.

I don’t hear the door open, though I do catch the sharp gasp, and my eyes snap open to take in my sister’s wide, scandalized eyes, her hoof raised to her mouth.

Sweetie Belle!”

Oh hell. I feel myself blush hotly in shame.


It’s been four years since I had moved officially into the Carousel Boutique with Rarity. Four years since our parents moved off to “seek out adventure,” or whatever it is that ponies in the grip of mid-life crisis decide is necessary to keep their lives interesting. They half-heartedly offered to take me with them, but we all knew that to be little more than a gesture. They wanted time together; I wanted to stay with my friends in the place I loved. Even after Rarity and I had established stronger bonds with the Sisterhooves Social all those years ago, even after we had learned the real worth of being sisters… well, the look on her face when our parents broke the news and asked her to take me in full-time was priceless. I wasn’t worried she’d actually say no, so I got to revel in how hilarious her expression was as she absorbed the situation. Soon after she stopped hyperventilating and obsessing about the implications, she welcomed me into her home with open arms. And a mop.

I finished school two years ago, graduating with honors alongside Apple Bloom. Scoots was held back a quarter on something she, to this day, viciously insists was a technicality, but Bloom and I can’t resist ribbing her on it every chance we get. I’m now splitting my time pursuing studies of the magical sciences with Twilight Sparkle—and really, who could ask for a better teacher—and working on my music. My sister has a lot of connections throughout the aristocratic circles of Canterlot, but while I don’t dislike opera and the classical performances, it’s really not where my heart is. Instead, I’ve been doing a lot of practicing and networking with Lyra and Vinyl: ponies involved in the more modern styles of music. Rock and dubtrot; I can’t get enough of the stuff. My studies with Twilight came as something of a surprise, not only to me, but to my friends and family. A predilection for such powerful magic wasn’t something I had expected to stumble across.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders are still going strong, though with a wholly new cast. It’s kind of gratifying in a weird, nostalgic way to see the young, blank-flanked colts and fillies take up the mantle—running around town doing all kinds of crazy stunts and generally having a great time. That’s what childhood should be about, never mind the obsession of searching for their marks. Looking back, I can see that the never-ending crusading was really ancillary. It was about fun; it was about building friendships that last a lifetime.


Right about now, however, the only thing on my mind is snatching up my pillow with my magic and hurling it at my sister, who’s still standing in frozen shock in my doorway. “Get out, Rarity!” I yell. “And knock next time! Can’t a pony get any privacy around here?!”

Stuttering apologies, she quickly retreats, my door closing with a louder slam than she probably intended. I sigh, the moment irrevocably lost in that mortifying encounter. Staring blankly up at the ceiling, I really have to wonder if it’s not time for a serious change of pace.

Rarity’s probably stomping down the stairs now, muttering about unladylike behaviors. Pheh. Naturally, she won’t give a thought to the times I’ve walked in on her and whichever stallion she’d decided to indulge in that month. At least I kept things in my room, not like that time I’d actually walked in the front door and caught her and some guy in living room. Granted, I was supposed to have been staying overnight with Scoots and Bloom, but we stayed out a bit late at the Cider House, and I’d decided to stop by and pick up… something. I can’t even remember what it was that sent us on a stumbling detour back to the Boutique at one in the morning, but I sure as hell remember opening the front door and seeing her laid out across the table. We eat on that table. I would have backed out quietly if it weren’t for that damn bell above the door.

A series of screams, a flying sewing machine, and a quick retreat later, Bloom, Scoots and I were trotting back toward Sweet Apple Acres. Scoots and Apple Bloom seemed to think it was the most hilarious thing they’d ever seen; Scootaloo even laughed so hard she tripped over her own hooves—okay, maybe it was one of mine—and face-planted right into a bush. I was considerably less amused at the situation… I mean, come on—the dinner table! This, of course, just made them laugh harder.

So yes, it’s high-time to get my own place. I’m nearly the same age as Rarity when she moved out on her own, after all. Well, close enough anyway. A quick shower later, and I manage to duck out of the house without another encounter; I heard Rarity leave while I was washing. Dumb bell. She’s probably off to meet with Fluttershy at the spa and recount in incredibly embarrassing detail the ‘trauma’ she just experienced.

I grab a light cloak on the way out and sling it over my back against the pattering rain. I love Ponyville like this: the soft light of day filtering down through the ubiquitous cloud cover, rumbles of thunder rolling in the distance, the rich scent of rain and grass permeating the air. The town’s buildings, already colorful, seem even more incredibly vibrant when wet. A cool, steady breeze tugs at the edges of my violet cloak.

I trot aimlessly down the street, my hooves leading the way. I find myself en-route to my favorite cafe. Oh. Good call hooves. A nice, strong coffee would be perfect right now. Oh! If only I had brought a good book! Nothing beats

My thoughts are shattered as I pass by a narrow alleyway: a hoof shoots out and grabs ahold of me. Before I know it, I find myself pulled into the concealing alley, lifted to my rear legs and shoved up against the side of the building. A tongue pushes past my lips and into my mouth. One strong hoof presses roughly against my chest, another grabbing my mane and pulling my head to the side, breaking the kiss. I gasp as I feel teeth bite into my neck. A low chuckle rumbles against my craned neck, tickling my coat and sending another shudder through me. Raising my forelegs, I gain the presence of mind to shove my attacker back, sending her stumbling and allowing me to gain my hooves and breath. Narrowing my eyes, I growl, “Oh, you are so going to get it later.”

She blinks, then grins. Okay, maybe not the most ominous threat I could have made. She trots up to me again, totally ignoring my fearsome scowl, and runs a hoof across my cutie mark. “That a promise?” she whispers, breath hot as she nips my ear.

I shiver a little, a treacherous smile sliding across my muzzle. “Maybe,” I say in a sing-song tease. I lean forward and kiss her, long and hard. Before her hooves can start to wander again, I pull back. “Seriously though, you wanna get some coffee? I’m going to need about half a dozen shots-in-the-dark after my morning so far.”

Scootaloo raises an eyebrow and cocks her head, her riotous shock of purple mane falling to the side. “Oh yeah? What’s new in the drama-nest?”

I look away, about to field one of the multitude of things that have been irritating me lately, but fail to hide the hot blush, and Scootaloo jumps on it immediately. “Ooooooh! What happened?!” She starts to bounce in place. “What happened what happened what happened! Did she leave one of her toys in the bathroom again?” Scootaloo’s mind is clearly abuzz with the possibilities. Every bit as much as I find my sister’s… proclivities to be embarrassing, Scoots seems to find them just as hilarious. My face goes from warm to supernova as I realize I’m going to have to tell her that this time around, I’m the one who got nailed… er, figuratively speaking.


Looking over her shoulder, I cry out, “Oh! Good morning, Rainbow Dash!”

Like clockwork, Scootaloo whirls around, searching the sky for her long-time idol and—I suspect without jealousy—long-time crush. By the time she turns back around to throw a befuddled glance at me, I’m three blocks away, cloak trailing behind as I gallop full-tilt. Yep, this is definitely the more dignified alternative. I hear her cry out in surprise, and pour on the speed, knowing she’s about to give chase. I skid around a corner and immediately make a hard left into another alley, hoping to throw her off now that I’m out of her line of sight. I exit the alley and take a right, passing Roseluck’s flower stand. Panting for air, I exchange a ‘good morning’ with her. Taking a look around, I decide I can settle on my second favorite cafe this morning. I get about halfway there before a shadow passes over me.

That’s all the warning I get before I’m full-body tackled into the wet grass, rolling end over end with the young orange pegasus. She’s laughing, and so am I. It was only a matter of time, though I had hoped to get some caffeine in me before the rumble. As usual, she has me pinned quickly, and I’m staring up at her wide grin and beautiful eyes, framed by the cascade of her sharp-purple mane. I want to kiss her, right here.

Instead, I push at her, grumbling, “Okay, okay. You win already! Now get off me and let’s get a cup.”

She looks at me in faux-suspicion, her wings spread wide. “No more tricks?”

“No more tricks. C’mon,” I say, dusting myself off and trotting to the cafe that would have been my temporary salvation, a mere block away. The ponies around us are laughing good-naturedly at our little display, most of them well-used to our antics, having known us since we were foals. Things have, of course, changed somewhat, but they don’t all need to know that. Not yet.

Sitting in the cafe, our steaming mugs before us, I take in the rich aroma of the strong, black-as-night coffee. Finally, I think, taking a blissful sip. Scootaloo clears her throat and I glance up. She’s staring at me expectantly. I know what she’s waiting for, and once again I feel my face begin to redden. I’m trying desperately to think of some way to mitigate this disaster—the impending embarrassment is easily on par with Scoots having to repeat some school. I know I’ll never get to play that card against her again if this gets out, and damn it, I love that card. Still, as I look up into her earnest eyes, I know there’s no way in the nine hells she’s not going to know if I feed her a lie. She’s got a thing about that. Pity? Maybe if I start crying, she’d... nah. She’d just start making fun of me. I can already hear her making snarky comments likening us to my sister and a diamond dog. Uuuuuuugh. If only Bloom were here—

“You’re pouting,” Scootaloo observes dryly.

I suck my lower lip back in and raise my chin. “I most certainly am not!” I say, pretending offense.

She sighs and leans forward. “Look Sweetie... yeah, I’m hella curious about what happened this morning, and I can tell it’s going to be a total riot, so there’s no way you’re getting out of here without telling me every detail.” She reaches a hoof out to rest upon mine and lowers her voice. “But you know how much I love you, and while you can bet your tight flank I’m going to make fun of you till the sun goes down, it’s not that I’m being mean about it. You know me,” she says, with what I’m sure she imagines to be a winning smile.

Her logic is so far out there that if it weren’t true, it’d never make sense. I take another swallow of the bitter black and brace myself, leaning forward and dropping my voice to a whisper. Her eyes light up like it’s Hearths Warming Eve. “Okay, fine. This morning, Rarity... um... ‘caught’ me in an awkward moment.”

She waits for me to elaborate, and when I don’t keep talking, she raps the table impatiently.

I groan. “I mean, she walked into my room without knocking. I was, um... y’know.”

She stares at me blankly. I swear to Celestia she’s doing this on purpose.

She caught me masturbating,” I hiss at her, my face beet-red.

Scoots’ jaw slumps down, and for a moment she doesn’t even breathe. Very slowly, she lowers her head into her hooves and clenches her eyes shut. Her shoulders start shaking, a little at first, and then so violently I have to lift our cups off the table so they don’t spill out. She looks back up at me, tears streaming down her face, her muzzle contorted in barely restrained mirth. “Are you bucking serious?” she chokes out. I give her my best poker face. “You are! Oh. My. Gosh. This is—” Apparently too much for her, as she drops her head again and starts pounding the table with a hoof in abandon. If her coffee weren’t scalding hot, I’d up-end it right over her head. I consider it anyway.

“You do realize,” she wheezes, her muzzle still buried against her hoof, “ Apple Bloom is going to die when she hears about this.”

Oh. Yes. Thank you so much for that, darling. The thought never crossed my mind. I clear my throat. “Actually Scoots, this kind-a-sorta brings up something I’ve been thinking about for a while...” I wait for the change in tone to sink in, and she gradually composes herself, raising a hoof to wipe away the tears, the other clutching her ribs.

After a moment she pulls it together, getting the last few chuckles out. “Heh. Okay, right. What’s up?”

Now it’s my turn to hesitate. “Well, I’ve been thinking... I really do need to get some space from my sister, and... y’know that loft you’ve been renting?”

She nods, her expression nonplussed as she takes a sip of her latte.

“Well, I know it’s a bit small, even for one pony, sloppy as you are, but... what do you think about maybe... upgrading?”

She blinks at me. Honestly, if I have to spell this out...

“Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You wanna... get a place? Together?”

I’m getting really tired of blushing. “Well, yeah, the thought had crossed my mind. Is it... would you be interested? I mean, we’ve been seeing each other for over a year now, despite our decision to keep it kinda hush-hush, and well, I just...” I trail off, uncertainty washing over me. Have I misread her? Us? Does she not feel as deeply about me as I do about her? It has only been just over a year since our status as best friends evolved into something more. I bite my lip; maybe I am jumping the gun...

“Hey!” she says, jarring me from my thoughts so badly that I jump a little. “Sweetie. I love you. I’d love to live with you.” The sincerity in her voice and the soft smile on her muzzle erases the doubts that were running like acid through my mind. I feel tears start to brim as she continues, “You know Apple Bloom’s been wondering when we were going to make things public, and honestly, anypony with eyes has known for a while, so there’s nothing to worry about on that front. I love listening to you practice, so we’ll have to get a place with a jam room for your band. You know the hours I keep, what with training for advanced flight school, so just keep it mild in the mornings. Other than that, I don’t see anything keeping this from being wonderful,” she says with a wide smile.

My vision blurry, I lean forward and kiss her, right there in the cafe.

She leans back, hooves behind her head and a satisfied smirk on her face. “Besides, I’ve been needing somepony to clean up after me for like, ever.

A flare of my horn and my beautiful young lover is drenched in her steaming latte. For good measure, I tip her chair back, sending her sprawling to the floor. Everypony’s attention is on the soaked and cursing pegasus, but I lean forward contentedly, chin propped against a hoof; my thoughts are already swirling around moving day.