Twilight Sparkle Tries to Write A Clop Fic
Twilight Sparkle sat at her desk, hunched forwards with a quill rested gently against her chin. She had her mind set to the task, a blank sheet of paper set out in front of her. She knew exactly what she wanted to say and yet, the words just wouldn’t come.
She’d tried so many things to get the block to budge, walking around outside, greeting her friends. Going to visit Rainbow Dash despite the mare’s protests, even reading somepony else’s words, but nothing seemed to work.
So now she sat, with so many words and nothing to write. On her last breaths, she resorted to her last resort. Something she promised herself she’d never do: write a clop fic.
The faint niggle of an idea graced Twilight’s mind, her eyes lit and the quill set to motion. It scratched loudly against the rough page sketching out the first words of her grand plan.
Clover Frost walked out—
And she stopped. The quill lifted up from the page, and she read back through what she’d just written, then quickly scribbled an amendment.
Clover Frost, the Handsome, walked trudged out through the open snow.
A smile spread across Twilight’s muzzle. She liked that, but it needed more. She wrote another sentence.
Clover Frost, the Handsome, known such for he was the most handsome of all stallions trudged through the open snow with his stallionhood w—
No. Twilight frantically scratched out that last word, her blush intensifying. She didn’t want it to start like that. She tried again.
Clover Frost, the Handome, known only as such for being the most handsome of all stallions, trudged through the open flap and into the warm inside of the—
The... tent? Twilight shrugged, might as well be.
—of the tent.
And then she got stuck. Twilight pressed her quill into the ink pot, thinking to herself as she let it soak to the shaft. “There has to be a better way of doing this,” she frowned.
With the quill freshly filled, Twilight scrunched up the page and tossed it aside, sending it flying across her bedroom and on top of a pile of similar scraps of paper—all her previous attempts. The wad of paper tumbled off the top, rolling all the way down the mountain, and sliding to a halt at the base just beside the still empty waste basket.
Ignoring the mess behind her, Twilight levitated a new page down in front of her and began scribbling anew.
Clover Frost, also known as the stongest and most well hung stallion alive, trudged through the howling wilderness of the Frozen North. He shivered, pulling his close cloase to him, and pressed on ahead. He was intent on getting to his destination: a brown tent on the horizon where his lover, Twi Sunlight –
Once again, Twilight found herself frozen, unable to think of a single word. What the hay rhymes with “Sparkle?”
After a brief moment of contemplation, Twilight shrugged and pushed on.
—his lover, Sunlight Sparkle.
The wind was whipping past his mane, blowing it into a thunderous uproar, but he resfured to stop, for his erect—
Another pause as Twilight’s blush returned in full force. She cast a glance around the empty and darkened bedroom, her eyes settling on Spike’s basket at the back where the tiny drake still snored. She sighed, waving herself with a hoof, and skipped ahead in her tale slightly.
Sunlight Sparkle sat on the edge of her bed, playing with her—toys. When her beloved came waltzing into the tent, “My lover!” He proclaimed.
Twilight pushed on, intent on making something of this.
My- lovely lover dover smoopy doopy bear!
She choked, feeling a slight bit of bile itching at the back of her throat, and tossed the page away to begin again.
And again, Twilight found herself stuck. She sighed, dipping the quill in its inkpot despite it not needing it, and began scribbling her ideas.
Sunlight Sparkle sat at the edge of her bed, the sheets draped over her body and staring with a seductive smirk as she awaited her lover. Clover the Clever Frost strode into the tent, letting the flap swing closed behind him, and into the warmth therein.
He—
The sounds of hoof steps reached Twilight’s ears and she stopped cold. Her eyes bolted up to the closed door of her bedroom and she held onto her breath. She waited for what felt like ages, watching, as a shadow lurked beyond the doorframe.
She waited, sweats dripping down her muzzle, and watched as the shadow continued clomping down the passage and out of earshot. When she was finally sure she was alone, Twilight let out her held breath and turned back to her page.
He removed his hoof-stitched brown cloth cloak, the very same that hang exactly 13 millimetres from the ground on a normal pony, but at a more meagre 12 millimetres due to Clover’s reduced stature. He leviatated it over to the hook, flashing a sultry smirk to the mare stretched out before him, and let the cloak fall short.
Twilight felt a slight shiver of guilt run up her spine. Just the thought, of a stallion purposefully misplacing his coat, and leaving it lying on the ground, of all places, where somepony might stomp on it or even trip! It struck a special type of chord for the princess.
Clover skulked slyly over to his mistress, she turning over and presenting her—
“Ugh,” Twilight groaned and scratched that out, and began again.
Clover skulked over to his mistress, a sly grin unpon his muzzle and draping the leash behind him in his—
Twilight stopped again, “... am I...” She stared with wide eyes at the page, “... where did I...” She promptly tore it up, burned it to ashes, and sent the remains to a decade long banishment on the other side of the sun.
She wiped hoof over her mane, straightening out the odd split ends, and then pushed her wings back down to lie smooth against her back. When she was sure she was okay, she pulled out another page and started again.
~ ~ ~
Clover Frost, the Handsome, known as such for his perfectly manicured hooves and chiselled visage, strode into the tent to welcome his beloved. He strode with confidence, flashing a sly grin as his eyes set firm on the target of his desire.
“Sunlight Sparkle,” he cooed, “How... unfortunate that we could find each other lost here, in the frigid tundra of the Frozen North.” A brief moment, and then he added, “... alone.”
With a wobble of his eyebrows, Clover Frost removed his satin leather cloak and levitated it over to the hook beside him. Sunlight Sparkle simply watched, from her seat on the double-princess bed, as Clover held up his cloak to the hook and let it drop short.
A slight bristle ran up Starlight’s back, a slight shiver at the sight of the fabric tumbling to the ground before her. Then her eyes, growing wide, followed the curves of the stallion standing beside. Her mouth hangs agape, wonder befalling her as she beheld his massive—
~ ~ ~
“What you writing?”
“Ah!” Twilight screamed, almost falling out of her seat. She threw herself forward attempting to cover her page from any intruding eyes. “Nothing! Nothing!” She screamed and looked up to find Spike, leaning over the front of her desk and staring at her with a raised eyebrow.
The two sat there for a long moment, Twilight’s grin growing extra wide and her blush deepening, whilst Spike’s eyebrow simply rose higher, and higher.
At length, Spike spoke, “Okay, Twi, sheesh.” He shrugged and backed down, “I just came to tell you breakfast was ready.”