//------------------------------//
// HAPPY 
// Story: Happy Sunlight Snowflake Puppy Girls 
// by Rethewa 
//------------------------------//

Sunset had been letting out a stream of giddy giggles the whole time she was walking to Twilight’s home, and by the time she let herself in she’d broken out into the sort of blisteringly beatific beam that could only be brought about by the quietly blissful magic of tenderly lesbian huggles—which were like these tiny, really quite cutesily dainty packages of package-less pancake-esque floppy joy. So basically pancakes that were made of hugs instead of batter. And sort of collided at a leisurely pace instead instead of being consumed in graphic manner. 

Something like that. Sunset’s spirits were high, one way or another, and in a roundabout, proverbially metaphorical way, one could say, if one were so inclined to use a potentially unsavory figure of speech, that she was too. 

So, as one could probably imagine, she was nothing short of delighted when she stepped into Twilight Sparkle’s lab—which was a big brute of a room, stuffed full of metal guts and clangy odds and ends like a gorilla made of very passionate clocks but a room—eager to take part in whatever collaborative project the glass-on-face-wearing girl had prepared for the two of them. It was probably going to involve dynamite. Or some cool, like, liquidy metal sort of stuff that was like what you’d get if you took water and like made it metal. 

Which brought to mind images of long-haired water thrashing about on a stage, backlit by flaring flames, banging out the sweetest of sweet… whatever you called guitar noises, Sunset thought like riffs or something were a thing, maybe? 

Twilight came skipping up to her and Sunset’s brain was all like okay cute girl go into cruise control—which meant they sort of awkwardly bumped into each other, but Sunset was suave and collected, and so she turned that stumbly battering into a stylishly sexy hug like a boss.

“Hey, Twilight,” Sunset said.

“Hi, Sunset,” Twilight said.

Their favorite words had shifted recently, the spots formerly occupied by “cool” and “floccinaucinihilipilification” overturned.

“So, what do you have planned for today, Twilight?” Sunset said once their hug had ended.

Twilight did a sort of excited avant-garde tap dance and struck a pose she probably thought was dramatic and sciency. “Sunset, we might be able to have that picnic on the moon we’ve always wanted in a few weeks!”

Sunset felt her eyes light up with palpable joy as she did her best to mimic Twilight’s dance. “You really think so, Twilight?”

“I do think so, Sunset!” Twilight darted over to a spot by a big vat of bubbling pinkish fluid that periodically gave off great twirling gouts of flamboyantly-colored fire. “You see, Sunset, I’ve been devising a wonderful fluid that I think has the potential to revolutionize the way people see space travel!”

Sunset eyed the vat closely and pondered the implications.

“… Twilight, did you make fire gay?” Sunset asked sincerely.

Twilight started to open her mouth as if to answer that profoundly enlightened question… and then closed it after a moment of gaping silence.

“… So anyway, Sunset,” Twilight said as if nothing had happened, slipping a noodly bendy-twig of a limb around Sunset’s sublimely nubile waist. “Don’t we have such amazing chemistry going on here?”

“Twilight,” Sunset said in a tender, loving whisper, leaning in to bestow upon her bespectacled lover a bountiful gift of nuzzles. “I think this is a wonderful display of technical skill.”

“Sunset,” Twilight said, letting her arm droop in a gesture that might have turned into a cheeky rump-swat if the person making it wasn’t such a wretchedly uncoordinated pile of cocks. “I don’t know how to put it, but I just feel so… creative when I’m around you. Like I have all these ideas that I just know nobody’s ever thought of before and I have to get them out there.”

At the succulent intertwining of their voices, a faffing robot inhaled its faff and spat out a slow babbling brook of gently swaying music, which triggered an auditory cue built into the lights that dimmed them to pitch-blackness, because nothing said mood lighting like the sort of ravenous black you could only stumble around blindly groping in.

… Twilight was far from a romantic expert, but Sunset accepted that side of her graciously. 

“Twilight,” Sunset said, with a gesture she hoped was a friendly pat on the cheek or something but could just have been something wildly inappropriate and scandalous. “Don’t we have the most amazing theme?” she asked, choosing as always to look on the positives.

“We do,” Twilight murmured, and her head went limp and flump and her forehead bashed painfully into Sunset’s tit. “But you know what we really need?”

Sunset bit back a wince of pain and tried hard to think through the sting. “… What do we need?”

“Sunset,” Twilight said, “we need impact.”

Sunset contemplated that word.

“… What are you talking about, Twilight?” Sunset asked.

“I don’t know, Sunset,” Twilight said. “But it sounds important, don’t you think, Sunset? Whatever we do together, Sunset, I just—I want it to mean something, you know? What we do, I want it to matter to someone, Sunset.”

Sunset nodded silently.

“You’re right, Twilight” she said at last.

They did a kissy thing and it was pretty ace and then they also pressed their lips to each others and that was pretty okay too. 

“Sunset, could I ask you a favor before we build an implausibly-advanced rocket with this unnecessarily frolicking vat of goo and have a picnic on the moon?”

“Sure, Twilight, what do you need?”

“Oh, nothing much, Sunset—I just need you to run down to a grocery store and get me a cucumber; I think that’ll increase my odds of this experiment being lucrative.”

“Okay, sure, I’ll be back in a little while, Twilight.”

Sunset gave a merry wave before pushing off into the bleakly Twilight-less wasteland known to many deplorables as the outside world, and set off across the street, distracting herself by dreaming of what beautiful future might be in store for her that day.