Fuzzy Fluffy Fables

by Fuzzyfurvert

63. Scary Butt Fun Prequel [No Clop]

Author's Note:

While this is related to my mature rated story, Scary Butt Fun, there is no clop in this. When I was coming up with a follow-up to that story, I originally thought about a Twilight x Dean Cadance fic. Instead, I'm going to do a proper sequel, but since I had already started on this, I chose to clean it up a bit and present it. You can consider this canon to the Scary Butt Fun storyline, taking place well before the original and the third Equestria Girls Movie.

Dean Cadance sat alone in her small bedroom hunched over her worn work laptop, typing away at a document that she needed to get completed. She sighed, tabbing through the remaining open pdfs on her notebook, all of them in need of updating. Thankfully, none of them were particularly urgent. So long as they were completed by the next weekend, Miss Cinch wouldn’t breathe fire down her neck. However, if she didn’t work on them, that would leave her saturday afternoon and evening embarrassingly free. She sank deeper into her cheap office chair, sullenly glancing at her phone where it sat on her desk. The last text she’d received still on the screen.

Another date canceled. Another weekend alone. God, when did I become so pathetic? Cadance sank a little more into an unlady-like slump. Maybe I can find another show to binge watch online and order a pizza?

She groaned, rubbing her palms against her cheeks. She wasn’t that old for crying out loud, and already her social life was a joke. Getting to be a top prep school administrator was no easy task, and Cadance knew she’d sacrificed much of her youth on pursuing her goal. She’d always assumed that once she made Dean, she could start dating, find that special someone. But it seemed that whenever she tried, either her work got in the way, or the other person bailed on her. It was enough to drive her to fits.

Or to eat. Cadance looked down at the stretched expanse of her t-shirt. Her bras and pencil skirts had become noticeably tighter in recent weeks. Throughout college and her administrative training she’d starved, but now it seemed she was destined to pack on stored fat like she was getting ready to hibernate. “It’s not like I should be surprised, really. Aunt Celestia went through the same thing when she took over as principal at Canterlot High. Maybe I should ask her how she kept her figure from going?”

Cadance swallowed her pride again and opened her computer’s browser, the last webpage she’d viewed flashing on the screen. “Oooh, if I buy an extra large, I get a free soda. Score.”

Almost without her input, an extra large carnivore’s special and a diet two liter populated her online shopping cart along with the standard delivery instructions. A few clicks more finalized her purchase and confirmed her for forever bachelorette status. As soon as the site flashed its thank you message, Cadance groaned again. If she kept burying her disappointment in cheap pizza deals and extra cheese, she was going to need a bigger chair.

“This is what I get for holding onto the ridiculous assumption that school principals date as much as the high schoolers do. That old song about being hot for a teacher lied to me!” Cadance rolled her eyes at just how defeated and tired she sounded. When did I become so petulant and entitled? I blame social media. She sat up, settling in for the wait by closing the other documents and focusing on the one in front of her. All it still needed was a few updated records from the senior class and she could save it and be done. Which, realistically, should keep her busy and mind off her romance issues for the next thirty minutes, or the pizza was free.

She cracked her knuckles and held her fingers above the keyboard, wiggling them slowly. A minute passed and she wiggled her fingers again, but she couldn’t seem to actually get them to type anything in. Visions of her soon to be dinner popped into her mind, making Cadance feel all the more hungry and sick at her own weak will. Another minute slipped past without so much as a single key being pressed and Cadance threw up her hands in frustration.

“Grrr...this is pointless. I’ll finish these later...when I’m somewhat less pathetic than I am now.” Cadance closed the laptop’s cover with a slap of her hand and stood up, stretching out her stiff back until she heard it pop. “Ow! I...really need to get some more exercise done.”

Scratching her ribs below where her bra rubbed into her flesh, Cadance kicked off her pumps and headed for the bathroom. If her date wasn’t going to happen, there wasn’t really any need for her to stay in her smart looking dress suit with the slightly too short shirt and the push-up she was wearing. No need to give the pizza guy ideas either.

Cold water splashed on her face washed away what light makeup she’d applied earlier and a good firm shake released her hair from the bun that matched all her dating site profile pictures. The skirt and stocking were quickly replaced with comfortable yoga pants and socks. Cadance was just unbuttoning her blouse to be rid of her push-up when a timid sounding knock came from her apartment's front door, startling her.

“What? The pizza has never gotten here that quick before.” Cadance made sure the pink lace of her bra wasn’t playing peek-a-boo by re-buttoning her blouse most of the way before walking into her living room to look through the apartment’s peephole.

Instead of some pimple-faced young man with her Carnivore’s Special, it was one of her neighbors—and old friend—standing outside her door. Twilight Sparkle, a senior student at Crystal Prep, lived on the same floor of their dorm building. The girl had recently taken to staying at the school in a cramped storeroom-turned-laboratory all the time, so seeing Twilight on her doorstep was something of an extraordinary event.

Cadance opened the door part way, leaning to the side and raising an eyebrow. “Uh...yes? If it’s about any homework assignments, Twilight, I probably don’t have access to your teachers’ synopsis. But...it’s good to see you anyways!” Twilight jumped a little at the sound of her voice and quickly hid one arm behind her back. Cadance opened the door all the way and took a step back. “Do...do you want to come in?”

“No. Yes! I mean, yes, I want to come in, b-but I mean n-no, I’m here for you, not homework. Wait, I-I mean I’m here to talk to you!” Twilight tugged on a strand of her loosely piled hair and stared at the floor hard enough to drill through the tiles. She knew she was supposed to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them. It was polite, and normally, she had no trouble talking to Dean Cadance when they passed in the hall at school or on the dorm elevators.

This, however, was hardly a chance meeting. Twilight tried, but just couldn’t get her eyes to scan any higher than the Dean’s fashionable—and very fuzzy— striped socks. She coughed, shuffling in place inside the doorframe, unsure of how to proceed. None of the books about polite social interactions she’d read online had mentioned exactly what to do when the other person was waiting on her to talk or do something. Was she supposed to say something cool? Did she even know anything that Cadance would think is cool?

Twilight finally managed to lift her eyes, taking in all of the Dean. “Half buttoned b-blouse and leggings? It r-really shows off your...skin?” She clapped her mouth shut, eyes wide behind her glasses as she tried to figure just why she had said that out loud.

Cadance’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the arm hiding behind Twilight’s back. “Okaaayy. So...come in, Twilight. You know I’m always here for you to talk to. Though, as you can see, I’m no fashionista. So if this about CP’s uniform policy on skirt length, I’m afraid I won’t be much help.”

“C-Can I… t-talk to you ‘bout something… kinda personal, Dean Cadance?” Twilight stuttered quietly, shuffling awkwardly across the threshold for the Dean to close the door behind her.

“I suppose you can, if you want to, Twilight. I’m not a counselor, mind.” She gently closed the door, watching Twilight fidget inside a set of baggy pants and equally loose looking hoodie. Just then her phone pinged with a new text reply. “Oh, just a secon-” Cadance paused when Twilight glanced up quickly, her eyes wide, looking embarrassed and almost panicky. “Are you okay?”

“Y-YES!” Twilight started backing up, her voice suddenly high and squeaky. “If you’re busy, I’ll...I’ll just go.”

“I’m not actually busy. My date is just… talking to me…” Cadance trailed off, marveling as Twilight’s face somehow managed to get redder and her mouth formed the word ‘date’ silently.

“Well, then… n-never mind. If it’s y-your d-date…”

Cadance knew she’d be remiss as a school administrator if she didn’t at least find out what was bothering the girl. Even if it meant sending her to an actual counselor later. “Twilight, get in here. I’ll sign off in a second. It’s not important, trust me.”

“It’s okay. It’s n-not important!”

“Just sit down on the couch and wait a second.”

“C-couch?”

“Yes. There aren’t any other chairs in my living room, Twilight.” Cadance said slowly.

“R-right…” Twilight took a deep breath and walked into Cadance’s living room glancing around nervously.

When she turned around and headed back to reply to the text, Cadance heard the girl squeak quietly again and take a seat. Whatever it is, it must be really embarrassing. Cadance shrugged, picking up her phone to scan the message. Her previously dateable contact seemed unwilling to just brush off their evening with ‘sorry, can’t make it’ and had decided instead, to let her know just why she was too old, and too fat, and too much of an frump-in-training to even enjoy company with.

A long minute ticked by as Cadance stared at the message. It was childish. It was uncalled for. It hurt. It would have been worth it to throw the phone out the window, screaming in response to the world’s most recent personal cruelty. That would feel good. But...she couldn’t. She had a student in her living room that was having her own issues. Cadance sighed, shutting down the text app, and shoved the phone into her desk drawer.

Twilight was perched on the very edge of the couch, both hands behind her back now and staring at the floor when Cadance re-entered the main room. Her long, loose bangs covering her face. She looked up when the Dean returned, but quickly looked away again.

“You wanted to talk, Miss Sparkle?”

“Y-yeah… this is really h-hard. I’m t-totally embarrassed…b-but… you’re the only one I c-can talk to…” Twilight wriggled uncomfortably, shuffling her feet.

“All right…”

“I… uh… well… I mean… uh…” Twilight muttered under her breath.

After waiting at least three minutes, Cady rolled her eyes.

“Twilight, what’s behind your back?”

“EEK!” Twilight jumped nearly a foot into the air and away from Cadance. “N-Nothing!”

Cadance stared at Twilight’s reddening face, completely nonplussed.

“Wha? I mean! Ah jeez! I can’t do it alone...please help me.” Twilight sighed and pulled a crumpled, laminated pamphlet out from behind her back. She glanced down at it, smoothing it out with a shaking hand before thrusting it forward. “I went into town today and picked it up at the medical center...because I want to do it. B-but I didn’t know how to go about it, and I have no idea how to even start the process or what kind of surgery they use it and I thought you could help me out because you’re smart, and grown up, and I look up to you so much!” Twilight blurted in a rush.

Cadance stared at the blue and white pamphlet. Wrinkled as it was from Twilight’s deathgrip, the Canterlot Hospital and Treatment Center’s logo at the top was clearly visible, along with a smiling face that could have been a doctor or a patient for all she could tell. “What?”

She was too shocked to actually sound like anything other than confused. Her amethyst eyes scanning the seventeen-year-old student’s features for some external sign of illness or injury. Her mind whirled, trying to piece together what Twilight was talking about. She looks okay. Is she sick? Why did she come to me if she’s sick? Is it cancer? Is this day about to go from bad to tragic right in front of me?

“C-Can you sign off on the reassignment therapy? I’m not eighteen yet, so I need a parent or guardian to okay it.” Twilight whispered in a very quiet voice, her eyes once again unable to meet Cadance’s when she heard the Dean gasp.

“Why didn’t you ask your parents?”

“Because!” Twilight exclaimed, frustrated energy flooding her body. She threw up her arms, waving the pamphlet about for emphasis. “They say they support me, but neither of them could find the time to take me to do research on this! Mom always says she’s so busy! And Dad—ha! Don’t get me started. He can’t hide how uncomfortable I make him sometimes! At least he has one son that turned out alright, huh?”

“Why don’t you ask—” Cadance’s question died on her lips when Twilight practically fell forward and grabbed her arms for support. Despite Twilight’s fiery tone, the girl looked near tears.

“I can’t, Cady! It’s too embarrassing! Anyway…Shining and I...we aren’t actually talking right now. Okay, well, we are talking, but we aren’t talking about this stuff and I thought it’d be just be weird for him and you’re Cadance, I mean, you’re strongest, most put together woman I know! You’re so much stronger than I ever could be!”

“Uh…that’s not exactly a true statement, Twilight. I have my own issues.”

“But you’re Cadance.” Twilight swallowed a lump that was threatening to form in her throat. “You’re like the perfect woman.”

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A/N:

I wrote this next part a few weeks after the above bit, and there was supposed to be a connection between the scenes where Cadance tells Twilight that she’s not perfect. It was supposed to have this theme going through that Cadance has a lot of deep set body confidence issues but she’s learned to cope, etc, etc. Obviously it never got written.

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“Let me introduce you to my worst enemy. The person I hate most.” Cadance flashed a smile at Twilight, gesturing at the free standing, floor-length mirror that occupied one corner on her bedroom. The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise, eyeing the Cadance in the mirror while the real one stage whispered. “She might look a little familiar.”

“Wh-what?” Twilight blinked, looking back and forth. “You hate...yourself?”

Cadance nodded, one hand gripping her other wrist behind her back. Her reflection smiled. “Yeah.”

Twilight tilted her head to one side, staring at Cadance. “You seem pretty cavalier about that.” She frowned, her brows knitting. “I was being serious.”

“So am I.” Cadance sighed, rocking back on her heels as she stood there between Twilight and the mirror. “We have an accord, she and I. She tears me down. I get to scream at her. But if she keeps her little voice quiet for a week, I treat us to ice cream or pizza. Maybe a date, if I can get us a call back.”

She grinned again, clearing her throat and looked away from both herself and her guest. “Or—failing that—the detachable showerhead for an hour.”

Twilight stared at the Dean, her mind playing leap frog and catch-up at the same time, until it paired up Cadance’s last statement with a vivid mental image of the older woman assaulting herself in the shower. Her breath caught in her throat, making a clicking noise several times.

Cadance shrugged and reached out to pat Twilight on the shoulder. “I’m just being honest, Twilight. I know that sort of stuff might not be what you were expecting out of me, but I think I really need to stop treating you like a student.” She leaned forward a little to look through Twilight’s glasses and into those purple eyes. “I need to treat you like family. Cinch and the Board can fry me later, if any of this ever gets out, but I don’t care. You need me to be there for you as Cadance, not as the Dean.”

Twilight kept her mouth closed, side-eyeing her own reflection.

“I know it’s not the same, exactly, as what you’re dealing with, Twilight. But the results are pretty much the same. We don’t like our bodies, and in many ways it feels like they don’t like us either.” Cadance sighed heavily, but she smiled for the girl. “It’s exhausting. It wares at you. It drags you down and sometimes you don’t know if you’ll ever get past these feelings, or if you even deserve to.”

“But take it from someone with a ten years or so more experience in the self-loathing department: it can get better. It just takes work and acceptance.”

“So…” Twilight slowly turned her gaze from the mirror to Cadance’s eyes, “you’re saying I should just accept the way I am? I don’t need the treatment?” Twilight’s eyes started to sting, fresh tears forming at the edge of her vision. “Cadance...I came to you because I thought you’d understand. I can’t fix what’s wrong with me by dieting or spending extra time on a treadmill! I look like a boy!”

Cadance rocked back a little from Twilight’s outburst, her eyes going wide for a minute. When she saw the first tears start to run down those purple cheeks, she wrapped her arms around Twilight and pulled the girl into a tight hug. She stroked Twilight’s hair soothingly while the shorter girl choked out a sob into her chest.

“First of all, nothing is wrong with you, Twilight. What I meant, was taking what you have and changing it into what you want it to be will be a lot of work. If you accept that you cannot just flip a switch and be done, but that you have a lot to work towards, it might make you feel better. While we might wish that we could change things about ourselves magically, that’s just not how this world works.” Cadance petted Twilight’s scalp gently, her other arm holding Twilight against her. She pushed back slightly when one of Twilight’s sobs shifted into muffled speech.

“What?”

“I-I said...that I was studying that, actually.” Twilight sniffled, looking at the tear stain she’d left on Cadance’s shirt that was mere inches from her face. She swallowed roughly and slid a hand between them to simultaneously wipe her nose and straighten her glasses. “Or at least some sort of energy signature that I can’t identify yet.”

Cadance giggled. “You’re studying magic?”

Twilight frowned, looking away from Cadance’s face and back at the stain. She could feel her face starting to warm from their closeness, and definitely not from the intimacy of said closeness. Definitely not that. “It sounds stupid...when you say it like that.”

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A/N:

Originally, this was going to end with some naughty stuff between them but that went into some areas I wasn’t that comfortable with after some re-examining. Then, after that while Twilight was resting, Cadance’s pizza shows up and she calls Velvet and Nightlight about getting their blessings for the therapy.

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Comments

[Purple-Smart Heart]

Love me some TwiDance, mostly because it makes the author re-examine the characters and their relationships to fit them together in a new way. Kinda like this!

If Twilight were real I'd tell her to just talk to some other trans people. I have trans friends that have no intention of ever going beyond hormones. The surgery is not worth the risk for them. She's not a close friend but I even know a trans woman that doesn't even do hormones. Women like her are actually pretty common (though usually older, ones who grew up in a time when hormones and surgery were even less reliable than they are now).

Some trans individuals make piece with their birth bodies. But it usually takes some help. That's why, if you're trans, you need to see a doctor, several of them actually. Your medical doctor, an endocrinologist, and maybe even a urologist or other specialists. Also a personal therapist, as well as a psychologist that specializes in dysphoria. It's not a small thing. Twilight is just lucky that she gets a leg up with magic later on, she still needs to take care of herself by seeing a battery of doctors.

As far as I'm concerned, being born in the wrong body is a congenital defect, and you need to treat it with the medical seriousness of one.

[Fuzzyfurvert]

7989427
My intent with Scary Butt Fun was to kind of address that nigh overwhelming amount physiological and psychological care that is involved with actual transitional therapy and surgery. For storytelling purposes, I'm not diving into those details. There are plenty of resources online that describe and catalogue it far better than I could.

When I was researching it though, one thing that popped out to me was the whole parental/guardian consent for people seeking transition that are below the age of 18. It varies from State to State, but it's a common enough regulation to be near universal. And since Twi is right there at that age, by my estimate anyway, it would have been one of the first hurdles for her to cross when it comes to the medical side of transitioning.