• Member Since 1st Feb, 2016
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AATC Fanboy

An Aspie who does not write fanfics.

More Blog Posts92

  • 5 weeks
    What's with the global obsession with Hamilton?

    I know from the start of this I will come off as a fool for even asking this question, but: What's so great about Hamilton? For the better part of a decade seemingly everyone in the world has been swooning over Hamilton, and I simply don't get it. What did Hamilton do that so vastly benefited the entire world, changed it beyond recognition making the modern world possible? I repeat I am very

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    1 comments · 29 views
  • 8 weeks
    How would you name the couple of Barbara Dusk and Elusive?

    An uninspired author is sitting at a desk, quill firmly grasped in right hand, and fluttered and flared wings spread as they could get. Every passing second, her hand gets whiter from gripping it too hard and an observer might think it's ready to snap.

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    0 comments · 29 views
  • 9 weeks
    How are thee ponies?

    I have not been to work in the past four months. Early February. I briefly felt unwell in the early part of it, then planned to come back to work. Before that could happen, it shut down. Clothing is not deemed essential business. I haven't felt unwell for the better part of what of this year has passed.

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    0 comments · 18 views
  • 16 weeks

    Angelo Seville

    I'm out. No longer stuck in that strange and weird place. The sooner I forget, the sooner I can be at peace.

    Unconscious woman sleeping on the backseat of this van, she looks about a peaceful as anyone could be. Once we get back to the house, I hope never to see any of these abominations again. I found love in our close friend, and she's in the one behind us.

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    0 comments · 18 views
  • 17 weeks

    Strange things happen everyday, and I am witness to many of them. I always wake up with clear recollections of dreams, something that hadn't been the case till five years ago. Now I feel there is weight to them there hadn't been. So strange.

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    0 comments · 24 views

The Cake's Generosity. · 6:54am Oct 18th, 2019

Day after day, night after night, and week by week more ponies are vanishing by the dozens all over the country. And I was tasked with watching two of them. I now know what’s going on, and others in the force know more than they are letting on. They took me and my best friends who I took upon myself to watch over into this strange world populated by cute but creepy little horses and numerous beings that look like they came straight out of classic myths.

I’m stuck in a strange little town with but a single main street and one side one at the end of it where the townsfolk tend to gawk at newcomers and outsiders like they are some sorts of freaks of nature. I have been in bed here in a bed next to a room where two trouble making twins reside, and within a home and business run and owned by an eccentric baker who I think may be related to them. And sounds an awfully lot like one of her regular customers with the white coat who lives across the street and both of those two brats.

Cupcake, the owner of this house and place of work told me about the flight camp disaster that left the two of them bedridden. They don’t have a tendency to follow orders, much to their own misfortune. I know the type. I have warned many kids of the dangerous risks they have taken, then seen them in the hospital or worse later. Drinkers being one of many types.

I find this place very hospitable, yet going home, and especially seeing to the well being of Angelo and Angela is my top priority, yet Cupcake’s assistant keep showing up to force me back into bed. I am quite well.

“Miss, I can walk just fine. I am not in the least bit tired. And I have friends who await me on the hillside.”

“They just came though. Trust me, I know it. They’ll be here just fine. The Apples are looking out.”

Huh? Who? Those two ladies in the apple orchard? The blonde and redhead with the shield symbol? They treated me so nicely, but how can they ever have time for themselves, between picking apples and helping foreigners get well by the dozens everyday?

She drew a serving tray from someplace unseen. “Have a cupcake. Freshly baked. I think you’ll like it... What’s your name?”

After a brief pause I spoke: “Be-- Monica. Monica Bannister.”

She raised a hoof at me and said “Pleased to meet you, Monica.” I took it. It was surprisingly pliable. How.

“If you need anything, just shout. You may be in for a surprise.”

“You remind me of someone. An old show that had a girl would would randomly pop up shouting ‘Surprise!’”

She cracked a smile at this as if it pleased her, like she knew something. A little head shake. I could hear the sounds of hooffalls going down the stairwell. As they echoed, I was left alone to my thoughts, as I am all too often.

Vanilla smells rose from downstairs. Does this drive ponies crazy or does it not? I could hear what happened downstairs, the sounds of guests coming in and going out. Clattering dishes, flames crackling, doors opening and closing. This enhanced hearing, these ears are incredible. I grew used to being exposed to loud noises, but now I’m practically overwhelmed by visual, auditory, and aroma senses like never before.

My ears piqued when I recognised a voice from downstairs. Angelo.

I popped out of the bed and ran down the stairs to see him. Angela was standing there, recognisable to me, and a strange stallion next to her. Yet oddly, his eyes, his overall demeanor, but especially his voice was familiar to me. When he spoke, that betrayed his identity.

“We need those needles, and right, frickin’ now.”
“If you are going to drag us here, finish the business you brought us here for already and send us back.” Angie’s eyes rolled towards me and locked on me after saying this.

Cupcake spoke:”You must understand, our supplies are low, but we’d rather have the patients here when they are to get the needles, and when they are ready get it done ASAP. This isn’t my mainstay, you know.”

I stepped in. “If I may...”
“Miss! What are you doing out of bed?” That exuberant mare rushed at me and threw me on her back quickly, and began trotting up the steps before I had a chance to say anything.

Faintly I could hear Angelo say “monica?” I told him yes, which took him by surprise, presumably because he didn’t expect me to hear him nearly whisper, let alone respond. Even as I was being carried, I told him to stay calm. Whatever was going on, they had no harmful intent and likely know more about what they are doing than we would know.

I come into the dimly lit room, barely furnished beyond the bed. She told me she has several tubes and would bring them into the room. They are fairly new. I was given a nice tip to rest my eyes. I worked hard enough. How does she know that?

The heads of those two twins poked in. The boy raised his arm and hooked it around my neck telling me to make myself at home and not be uncomfortable. They take good care of their guests. The girl nodded and added that their mum never missed the chance to help out ponies in need, and voluntary nurse is a new thing to her. They began asking where I was from, what it’s like, and if I wanted to stay. Somehow, they were both less abrasive and pushy about it, but still eager to hear.

“What are your names, kids?”



I could tell they weren’t very truthful. “Tell the truth. Those aren’t your names.”

Their ears sagged. The colt responded, “We’d rather not. Too many ponies have been hurt already by being too liberal with information. And we are young.”

Someone grabbed the boy by the the shoulder suddenly. “Hey, what are you doing in here?”
“N-nothing.” She glared at him before saying I needed to be left be.
His sister got a passing glance, but nothing more.
The hostess later told me my friends will be up shortly. I couldn’t hear them downstairs as well anymore due to the accumulating crowd beginning to congregate with the expected indistinct conversation.

When they entered the room, a couple came in with a desk and left it next to the wall by the door. On of them furthermore had a briefase from which he pulled a laptop. There were several DVDs in it. When I looked at Angela, her eyes lit up at one of them. The rest of the evening was spent watching movies, one of which I had seen before. The very one Ange wanted to see. Two scenes in particular stuck out in my mind: Two girls standing next to each other, one with a clipboard, the other takes a pen from her and puts the flat end in her mouth, biting on it, holding it that way. The clipboard girl gives the one clenching the pen in her teeth a strange look, which prompts her to blink and spit it out and place it in her right hand. She then signs her name on a form girl #1 is holding, but rather than pinching it between her forefinger and thumb she squeezes it in her fist. Girl 1 comments on the strangeness of how girl 2 writes with her fist.

The second scene had the same weird girl in front of a vending machine. She turns her back to it, raised her right leg, and prepares to kick it, slamming her foot against its glass. Another intervenes before she hurts herself.

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