Our Interaction

by Isuvyw

Rating: everyone
Tags: Human, Twilight Sparkle, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Drama, Original Character
Length: 1052

A brony struggles to write. Twilight helps with that.

Izzie's having a hard time figuring out what to write. He's spent the whole day staring at a blank screen, frustrated that nothing creative can come out.

Twilight Sparkle helps with that.

Written as a result of a real-life scenario. Can be (nearly) considered a self-insert.
Enjoy.

Published 2023-01-01 13:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-01-01 13:10:00 UTC

Touch Grass

“Izzie, what are you doing?”

I sigh loudly, not turning to face her. Not because her question was offensive in any way, but I was just very tired and stressed from the whole day.

A whole day of not creating anything.

“What’s this?” Twilight asks, coming closer to me. A laptop sits open, Word is currently active, and there are 0 words written.

“I’m trying to write,” I answer gloomily. She squeaks in delight. “You’re writing? Oh, this is great! Is it an essay? Or some report? Or a detailed analysis on why humans have two ears but one mouth…”

I sigh again, not answering. Twilight doesn’t notice; she’s too busy rambling. She can’t read the room, huh?

“…Why didn’t you tell me you write?” she inquires. I give a half-hearted shrug. “Well, I’m not exactly consistent with it. I’ve only written four or five stories, and they’re only crappy one-shots.”

“Ah, you write fiction? That’s cool too,” remarks the alicorn. I turn to face her, a little puzzled. “Huh, didn’t know you liked fiction, Twilight.”

She pouts. “Hey, I’m not just an egghead! I enjoy a good novel every now and then– what’s so funny?”

“S-sorry….” I apologise, trying to stop giggling. “It’s just that you look very cute when you pout.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, then slaps my head with a hard hoof. I wince, though the pain is not actually that bad.

“So, what have you written so far?” she asks me, curious. I groan. “Nothing. I’ve written nothing today.” I sigh, looking toward the ground. “It’s really frustrating.”

A quiet, despondent “oh…” comes from Twilight. Perhaps she understands the frustration of not being able to do something you used to do with ease.

Wait, doesn’t that sound–

“Ah, don’t remind me of that one time where I had nothing to report to Princess Celestia and then went crazy over it,” chides Twilight. I giggle a bit – she’d watched that episode, huh? “Ok, ok, fine…” I drawl.

She gives a small smile. “Hey, it’s alright. I understand this feeling.” She trots over to me, putting a purple hoof on my lap. “Maybe you could go outside and take a walk? It might help to clear your mind,” she suggests.

I shrug. Why not? After all, sitting here all day long wasn’t gonna help my situation anytime soon. Plus, a walk might help get rid of the extra… cargo that’d accumulated in my stomach.

I stand up and stretch, twisting my neck left and right to loosen it up. Ah, it feels so good.

Twilight watches me with a tilted head, amused at my stretching. She chuckles. “I’ll never understand you humans.”

“And I’ll never understand you ponies,” I ripost. Somewhere in the wide world, a group of young men yell, “Oooooooooooh!” It sounds strange, though familiar, but I shrug it off and walk toward the front door.

“Don’t forget your keys, Izzie,” reminds Twilight. I smile, grabbing the set from her telekinetic grasp, and open the kitchen door. I let her trot out first before exiting myself.

A warm wave of fresh air breezes over me and purges out stagnant carbon dioxide. I take a moment to breathe in and out, thankful that I can still breathe. With a sigh, this time content, I close the door and lock it, then slip the keys into my pocket.

I start down the back lane. It’s a small lane, too small for cars but large enough for bikes and people to walk through. On either side are rows and rows of backyards and gardens belonging to the neighbours here. Mrs. Bunnings is doing her laundry as usual. Mr. Toree sits at his patio, sipping a cup of coffee and reading his novel.

We exchange greetings, and both neighbours feed Twilight some oats and stroke her wings, having a good time doing so. After a while, we continue on.

“I’ll never understand humans,” grumbles Twilight as she ruffles her feathers. I chuckle. “Hey, relax. They’re just curious, that’s all.” She mumbles. I sigh. “The whole world still needs some time to adjust to this… development. A whole race of talking, colourful, magically-gifted ponies suddenly appearing on Earth? Huh, I’d call it a miracle.”

Twilight snorts. “Yeah, well, at least we didn’t go cuckoo and make war with humans like in those… those… What do you call them? Er…”

“Fanfiction?” I answer. She nodded. “Yes, those… fanfictions about us forcing everyone to turn into ponies. Ugh.” She gives an indignant huff. I chuckle again. “Relaaax, Twilight. It’s just fiction. Who knew you guys were real?”

“Who knew we existed in this world as a cartoon for foa– kids,” she counters.

“With a large, passionate, and ever-growing fanbase of adult men,” I answered back. She rolls her eyes and pouts.

“I must admit, this… fan…” she struggles.

“Fandom?” I answer.

“Er, yes, fandom. I’ve never encountered such a passionate appreciation for ponies anywhere else except in this fandom, and, to be honest, I’m really proud of it.” She nodded with a smile. I beamed.

“Thanks. You don’t know how much those words mean to the fandom,” I remark.

“Huh. You humans have a knack for this kind of stuff,” she comments. I shrug. “Well, it’s in our nature. We can’t deny it, right?” I answer.

“Yeah, I guess.”

We reach the end of the lane. A large field is located here. It isn’t a sports field or something; it’s more like the neighbourhood’s chilling ground. A few benches are planted underneath some trees, and there’s a community garden full of tulips and sunflowers.

Twilight and I sit on the grass, the alicorn nestled within my folded legs. She’d admitted that she liked it; “like a comfy basket,” she once said. Once she finishes snuggling in, we just sit there quietly, enjoying the weather and each other’s company.

And finally, after a whole day of frustration and emptiness, an idea strikes my head like a bullet.

“Hey, Twilight,” I say. “Hmm, yeah?” she answers. “I think I know what to write now.” “Oh, what?”

“Our interaction.”

Author's Note

This entire one-shot was spawned from a real-life scenario. Not fully edited. Please enjoy.

Takes place in an imaginary neighborhood, since I don't know much about real-life American suburbs.