• Published 16th Dec 2012
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Thirty-Minute Pony Stories - Silvernis



Stuff I wrote for Thirty-Minute Pony Stories.

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274: Bad Mood

274: BAD MOOD


Tavi wakes up in a Bad Mood. I roll over and give her a sticky morning breath kiss like I always do, and I can see Bad Mood written all over her face. Tavi’s one of those prim-and-proper types who looks like she’s got a cactus up her plot even when she’s totally happy, but when she gets that special little scowl, you know she’s just plain old pissed off at life.

She’s getting an early start today, apparently. Her eyes flicker open, then she glowers at me and turns away. The early Saturday sun is shining in through the windows on that side, though, so she grunts and rolls back over to me. I give her an encouraging smile, but she just groans and pulls the blanket over her head.

“C’mon, Tavi,” I say, nudging her gently. “It’s not that early.” I tug the blanket down and sneak in another kiss. She gives me a dirty look and yanks the blanket back.

Yeah, this is a serious case of Bad Mood. I don’t know how she contracted it, but I do know how to treat it.

* * *

Despite what Tavi thinks, I am semi-competent in the kitchen. Today I only burn every other pancake, and pretty soon I’ve got two big buttery stacks of them sitting on the table. I hear something stirring in the bedroom, and I grin: I’ve got the beast’s attention. Now I just have to lure it out of its lair.

Using my magic, I grab Tavi’s jar of marmalade and smear big globs of it all over her pancakes, trying not to gag at the smell of oranges. I don’t know how she eats the stuff, but hey, anything for the marefriend, right?

I set out the pot of coffee and the pitcher of OJ, but the table still looks like it’s missing something. I think for a moment, then grab some flowers from the window box and stick them in a vase in the middle of the table. Well, technically it’s just a water glass, but it still looks cute.

I hear the bedroom door open. A minute later, Tavi shuffles in, unable to resist the smell of pancakes, marmalade, and coffee. I smile. She’s a rumply, sleepy-looking mess, but she’s still the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t smile back, though. Instead, she keeps scowling at everything—the floor, the pictures on the wall, the sofa, the saddlebags I forgot to hang up, the sunlight, the pile of dishes in the sink—like it’s all there specifically to annoy her.

I pull out her seat and wait, still smiling. Still scowling, she makes her way over and sits down, and I scoot her closer to the table. She grunts something that I charitably assume means “thank you, dear sexy Vinyl.”

Her scowl shrinks a bit as she notices the food and the flowers, but she doesn’t say anything else as she grabs her knife and fork and goes to work. I’m tempted to cut her pancakes for her, but I don’t. Tavi’s very proud of the fact that she’s a lot more nimble with her hooves than most earth ponies, and she gets all huffy and insulted whenever I try to use my magic to help with stuff like this.

I settle for standing behind her as she digs in. Leaning back a bit on my hind legs, I reach up and put my forehooves on her shoulders. She grunts again around a mouthful of marmalade-covered pancake, but doesn’t smack me away. Progress.

I rub gently with my hooves and whistle in surprise—she’s crazy tense. She whimpers, but doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I just keep working her shoulders, neck, and back while she shovels down pancakes.

As the knots loosen up, I can feel the Bad Mood wearing away little by little. After a while, Tavi sighs and slumps in her seat as she finally relaxes.

I lean around and give her a smile. She smiles back, and I feel a warm, happy buzz in my chest: there’s the Tavi I love.

“Thank you, Vinyl,” she says softly. Her smile fades as she looks at the table and her empty plate. “That was very kind of you. I . . . I’m sorry I was so miserable.”

“’S’okay, Tavi,” I say, wrapping my forelegs around her. “Besides, you’re kinda cute when you’re grouchy.”

She chuckles and leans against me, and we stay like that for a while until I decide I could really use those pancakes.

Author's Note:

I knew the prompt for this one ("Kill them with kindness") would generate a lot of good but thoroughly depressing stories involving Fluttershy murdering stuff, so I decided to brighten up the sad party with a bit of much-needed fluff.

Octascratch FTW. <3 It mightn't be a very original pairing, but it's still one of my absolute favorites, and I always enjoy exploring it.

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