The Prompt: Ship the mods’ OCs.
Hasty Hooves stretched her wings as she landed from her flight to work. The flight never got any shorter, but overall, she didn't really mind it. It was a lot easier than if she'd had to walk the whole way. As she stepped into the office of the Ponyville Press, she reveled in the feeling of the air conditioning. It was so hot outside, and the stark contrast in temperature upon entering was a welcome change.
Hasty gave a smile and a nod to each pony she passed. She was the quiet type, and didn't usually stick around for long conversations with her coworkers, but she appreciated each one all the same, and was more than happy to greet them each in turn. Her office was near the back of the building, which gave her a nice opportunity to greet nearly everypony in one trip. She'd wondered why, after working at the paper for a while, she still hadn't been given a nicer workplace. It was no big deal though; it actually helped in her column sometimes. Being able to tell ponies that wrote in for advice on their lives was sometimes easier given her ability to relate with the ponies who talked about their less-than-desirable working conditions.
Hasty gave a small "Hello" to the pony working in the freelance office, which was right next to hers. Said office was currently occupied by a young writer named Purple Prose. He'd submitted some of his works to the paper, and they'd offered him a trial position. His works so far had been somewhat well-received, but no word had been given yet on whether the paper was keeping him around, and tomorrow was the last day of his trial period. Hasty had never really spent much time talking to him (which wasn't saying much; her conversations with coworkers were often a bit limited to begin with), but he seemed like a nice stallion, and she'd read and been impressed by his work. He had this way of dancing around his imagery and slipping little puns into his stories that she enjoyed. Prose returned her greeting, giving a small smile back.
"Uh...going to work?" Prose asked. He mentally slapped himself upon finishing this question. Where else would she be going? He quietly cursed his awkwardness.
"Yup," Hasty responded with a polite smile.
"Cool," Prose said, rubbing the back of his mane with a hoof. "Good luck!" Good luck? What kind of comment was that?
"Thanks," Hasty said, opening the door to her office. "Good luck with the whole keeping-your-job-here thing."
"You too!" Prose said as Hasty entered her office. Then he facehooved. He always messed up with proper use of the "you too."
Hasty sat down at her desk and looked at her inbox. She only had one letter to reply to today; it had been a somewhat slow week overall. She shrugged; at least her work day would be short and easy today. She opened the letter and got to reading.
"Dear Hasty," she read. She had a tendency to read her letters aloud. "I've got a big problem. There's this mare who's caught my eye, and as far as I'm concerned, she can keep it." Hasty chuckled slightly. That was kinda clever. "I've been wanting to talk to her for a while now, but she never sticks around very long to talk, and when I do say something to her, I tend to screw it up." Hasty sighed slightly. Romance, while one of her favorite topics, wasn't one that she was super-confident about giving advice for. She had enough trouble with it herself. Regardless, she continued on. "What can I do to get her attention? I don't know if I can go much longer without showing her how I feel, but how do I go about that? Signed, Preoccupied in Ponyville."
Hasty sat back and thought about what to tell Preoccupied. Her usual reaction would be to tell him (or her?) to go and find out this mare's interests, then try to talk to her about it. Then she thought about her own attempts at romancing ponies she'd been interested in. Trying to get to know everything about the pony who'd caught her fancy sounded like the right thing to do, since it would give them common ground. Plus, that's what the ponies in some of the novels she'd read did, and it always worked in there, so it had to have some manner of verity to it. The last time she'd attempted such a thing, though, she'd waited too long and missed her chance. This pony clearly sounded like he needed to have this happen soon. Hasty thought for a moment longer, then started typing.
"Dear Preoccupied," Hasty began. "It sounds like you've got a dilly of a pickle on your hooves. My best suggestion in this situation is to come clean to this mare and let her know you're interested. What's the worst that could happen? She says no? All in all, it's an attempt worth making in my eyes. Otherwise, you're gonna be left wondering what she would have said, and I have a feeling that'll 'preoccupy' you even more." Hasty nodded with a smile. Hopefully this would help Preoccupied with his dilemma. She sent the paper over to the press, ready to put it in print for tomorrow's edition.
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Hasty landed in front of the Ponyville Press building the next day, ready for another typical work day. As she opened the door, she nearly walked into Purple Prose.
"Gah! Sorry!" Hasty said, skidding to a halt.
"No problem!!" Prose said. It was then that Hasty noticed the box of candy floating next to Prose.
"Ooh, those look good," Hasty said. "Who's that for?" Prose took a breath, looking nervous.
"Uh..." Prose said, smiling slightly. "They're for you."
"...Me?" Hasty asked, taken aback. Prose nodded, grinning back.
"I don't want to be preoccupied any longer," Prose said with a chuckle. Hasty blinked a few times as she realized what was going on. Prose just smiled back as Hasty picked the candy box up, blushing.