The Stationery Massacre of the SoF (School of Friendship) - Anon’s Perspective

Anon took a deep breath, channeling what little energy he had left in the tanks to spare. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the onslaught these two were going to bring, what with all the work he and Starlight had done so far, Anon barely had anything to offer. Fatigue had him by the balls. But hearing that mare, her voice, just outside Starlight’s office, that invigorated him to stay awake and alert. That mare had a hoof in his debacle with Twilight, and she was not going to forget her role:

“Rarity said it would get more stallions to notice me.”

It bothered him knowing that, if the right words were said or if she gave an inflection too harshly, the blood in his body would boil. Sure, he would play nice, only nice enough to get through this interaction. Nothing more, nothing less. She didn’t deserve any clemency.

A yawn escaped Anon as the two rounded the corner, the mare of his ire about to walk through the threshold of Starlight’s office.

“Fluttershy, who on staff would forget to snuff out a candle or turn off a lamp? I—eek!”

The sudden screech was emitted from none other than Rarity. Anon knew her story; there wasn’t a need for introductions in his mind. She was prim, proper, and quite frankly a walking piece of dynamite that could explode any moment if her mane was out of sorts.

Unfortunately for her, Miss Prim and Proper may have a few hairs come undone as she turned into a pirouetting ball of hair retreating straight into Fluttershy, a pony who Anon had a lot more respect for. That respect couldn’t earn her protection from the twirling disaster barreling straight for her, since Anon was too far to even help in the first place. All he could do was observe the poster-esque model of a Bad Mane Day crash into the outstretched wing of Fluttershy. The collision sent the two tumbling to the floor, landing in a heap that Anon deemed to be a Rarishy pile, an ungodly mixture of yellow feathers, purple curls, and painful groans. Anon frowned at the sight of them, not because Fluttershy was in pain, but because he totally wasn’t the first person—err, creature to ever make that distinction. No, that would’ve been too easy.

He snorted before folding his arms close to his chest, one arm on top of the other. And that frown he had on his face moments ago was wiped clear off it, his gaze trending elsewhere. There wasn’t a need for Anon to be Fluttershy’s witness in court, and besides, if he kept that frown on his face and they saw it, they’d play an experimental version of twenty questions. Anon wasn’t a fan of twenty questions, nor was he in the mood to give an explanation about his state of being, especially to Rarity.

Anon also refrained from letting out yet another yawn. All this work has made him want to head home to sleep comfortably, preferably in his bed cozied up with his warm blankets and his extremely fluffy pillows. Instead, he’s watching two ponies reenact their own version of a car crash and its subsequent aftermath, while being painfully reminded that he’s in his marefriend’s office working with her on shredding all of her copies, and the copies of those other copies. It was a so-called massacre of wasted stationery, one that he had a hand in creating.

Speaking of a massacre, while the two mares unfurled and plucked themselves from each other, he and Starlight had kept on pace, shredding yet another small stack from the much larger one they claimed as Mount Everest (actually it was only Anon who claimed it, not Starlight). The whirring of the Shredder 2.0 (named aptly by himself, much to Starlight’s chagrin) pierced through the air. Its razor sharp claws easily sliced and diced the useless documents that were once part of that mountain, their lifeless remains dropping to the bottom of the shredder’s willing accomplice: its gray bin.

…

Anon had assessed the small stack’s contents, which were mostly copies of reports from last year. He had asked Starlight about them as his eyes had trailed over them more than once and was utterly curious about them. She told him that they were not good in any way, shape, or form. Some had multiple misspellings, one had a massive ink splotch in the center, and one even had a lazy doodle of Trixie wearing a mustache. Starlight had told him that the last one was definitely her drifting off, thinking it was funny to have Trixie wearing a mustache and being completely composed about it. He didn’t really see what was so funny, but maybe that was because Trixie rarely unearthed herself from the school when it was in session, so Anon never got to see her. If she did leave the school grounds, his schedule didn’t exactly align with hers, what with all the touring she did.

“That’ll all change soon!” Starlight had told him. She was right about this. He knew Starlight’s schedule, and thanks to these two being the best of friends, he also knew Trixie’s schedule. Why? It wasn’t because Starlight told him of Trixie’s schedule. No, it was because Starlight had Trixie’s calendar overlaid on hers, all decorated in spades and hearts. Since Starlight saw it as important, he had to at least remember Trixie’s schedule for Starlight’s sake. Was it weird to know her best friend’s schedule?

Probably. Anon didn’t know for sure. His life was growing many shades astray from what it once was, and it was all thanks to Starlight knocking on his front door. He didn’t know if it was for the better, but those feelings he had gained for Starlight stirred each and every day he was with her, and the burden he wore since that day of rejection, while still present, slowly began to be drowned out. That vision, that feeling of elation, they tasted so sweet, sugary, and all sorts of right, like cotton candy on a warm day at a state fair.

It was enough to make him nibble on his bottom lip in the present.

Was this what diabetes felt like? He needed to check with Redheart just to be sure.

Anon shook his head and returned to reality, which apparently was Rarity and Fluttershy dusting each other off, one with a feather duster held in a blue aura, while the other was trying to use her already kerfuffled wing to make some strides. It only took a moment longer before Fluttershy brought her wings to her sides, and the feather duster that had floated in air to be blinked out of existence with a sharp white light.

He winced, the light more glaring than usual.

“You’ll learn to look away someday,” Starlight whispered with a sheepish smile on her face.

He just glared at her, which earned him a giggle-snort. His well-timed follow-up of an eye roll nearly made Starlight fall out of her seat, only making her lean back just enough to panic on the landing. The chair’s front legs thumped against the floor.

“Don’t fall off your dinosaur, Starlight,” Anon quipped, a smirk worming onto his face as he leaned toward her.

She tilted her head. “What’s a dye-no-soar?”

He ignored her complete mispronunciation of the word (for now). “I’ll update you on the lore later,” he psh-awed, flinging his wrist toward her, and turning his attention to the now well-dusted duo. “So, did you two plan on merging into one pony, or did you just have a happy accident?”

“The latter, Anon,” Rarity droned, punctuating his name with a whine. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so close to the door.”

Spoiler alert, he wasn’t that close. He was pretty far away actually. Not as far as Starlight, she was the furthest, sitting comfortably at her desk in the back of the room, while he stood a bit more in front of her desk, but off to the side. The door was maybe… a few steps away from him? He didn’t know, he made sure to stretch his legs with each step, but despite all that, apparently Rarity didn’t think so. She was so shocked by his presence that she jumped backwards into Fluttershy. Intimidation in the worst of ways.

“I wasn’t even that close. I’m closer to Starlight’s desk than the front door,” Anon sneered. “But sure, blame me for it. That’ll—”

Starlight groaned, which made Anon look in her direction. She looked… confused, her right ear twitching only as she muttered his name, “Anon…”

He let out a frustrated sigh, throwing his hands to his sides. “Fine.” One turned up, scratching the back of his head. “I’m… sorry for scaring you.”

“Is something…?” Rarity began, only for her thought to trail off once she saw what he saw: Starlight’s furrowed brows and her menacing glare.

Safe to say, Rarity's befuddled expression told him all he needed to know.

Fluttershy walked up to Starlight’s desk and flashed a smile at them. “It’s good to see you two.”

Starlight tilted her head. “Why’s that? Did you think somepony else was here?”

Fluttershy froze, her eyes slightly wide, just like her muzzle, which was only a little bit ajar. Her wings tittered though as she spoke, “Sort of. At first, we thought the pony you hired to clean the school forgot to turn off a light or—”

“He wasn’t in today. He got time off this week,” Starlight interrupted with a slight smile. “Good to know some ponies pay attention to the early morning meetings.”

“Oh, of course,” Fluttershy began, her wings bursting a flap and a half before returning to her sides. Her lips tugged upward as she continued, “Your morning meetings are very informative and—”

Rarity nudged Fluttershy, causing her to squeak. “What Fluttershy is trying to say is that, well… everypony enjoys your meetings.”

Starlight’s muzzle scrunched up like an accordion. “That didn’t sound too convincing.”

“Au contraire, Starlight.” Rarity’s lopsided grin told Anon enough that she was lying through her teeth, but the not-so-subtle lean into Fluttershy may throw Starlight off her trail. “We wouldn’t lie to you, would we?”

“Heh-heh. Most likely not…” Starlight tried to sell her sheepishness, but the little awkward laughs afterward only made Anon wish he could facepalm without distracting them. So, he let out a grunt instead.

All three mares shot their attention towards him, brows equally bent in disdain.

“What?” he asked with a sudden higher pitch. He gave them a shrug to boot hoping it would smooth things over, but Starlight gave him an eye roll, while the others turned back to return to the matter at hoof.

Fluttershy moved closer to the desk and smiled. “I’m just glad it wasn’t some random robber.”

“Random robber?” Starlight began, her voice cracking on robber. “But—”

Anon snapped his fingers. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Fluttershy! We’re actually robbing the place. We picked it clean of all the endless copies of Starlight’s nonsense so that no one will ever learn about her knack for missing commas and misspelling the word ‘tha—ack’!”

“Ignore him,” Starlight droned while she gifted him with a sharp gaze that could cut him like a knife. She had also tagged him with the next stack, which he grumbled and mumbled with it now in his hands instead of on the back of his neck. Stupid magic and its omni movement. “He’s just ecstatic to be here this late at night.”

He could still feel the papers’ haunting touch— “Watching all of her copies and the copies of her copies get shredded is the most ideal way of biding my time.”

Rarity tilted her head. “Forceful cooperation?”

“More like volunteered,” Starlight emphasized, tapping her desk with a hoof before fumbling through a small stack she summoned with her magic. She peeled through it as she continued, “You know I’m not like that anymore, Rarity.”

“I know, Starlight,” Rarity began, her voice whisking through the air into his eardrums, which he didn’t like and didn’t consent to. His feelings didn’t matter even if— “But Anon is quite a charming man, and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable—”

Anon tuned her out. The fact she’s said that led him down two paths: either she doesn’t know about Twilight’s intentions with her advice, or maybe Rarity did and was trying to alleviate tensions between them using empty compliments. It made him grit his teeth, while one of his fingers dug into the stack in his hands, crinkling the top sheet ever-so-slightly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, like he was about to pop off it and tell Rarity to leave, but he didn’t, letting a deep shaky breath escape in his stead.

He glanced at the top most page of the stack, reading Starlight’s inked signature and subsequent words ‘WHY DO YOU DOODLE?!’ in red ink. It was like his mare was reprimanding herself like a teacher would to a student. It almost made him laugh, but he still had to find this doodle. The front of the page didn’t have anything like the one she drew of Trixie, so it must be on the back—

A purple ink portrait of Rarity doing a duck face greeted him. The duck pose was incredibly exaggerated, almost to the point that if he flipped it over and showed it to Rarity, she’d probably declare a war between herself and Starlight right in front of him. It would be entertaining to see them fight, almost worthy of a television spot back home, but he also wasn’t wanting to aggravate them both, or rather, his mare. Rarity was still on the chopping block if she said the right words.

He flicked that page off the top and shoved it underneath his stack, making sure to flip it again to hide the doodle from plain sight. Then, he peered back over to the actual living one right in front of him, the frazzled designer leaning toward Starlight with a smirk on her face. Confidence exuded in that one, that much was obvious, meanwhile, Anon’s mare was… awkwardly grinning at Rarity, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks. Knowing history (not that he had much to go off of), this was going to go in a direction he wasn’t prepared for.

“Heh, I’m happy that you’re defending him. A lot of what you said, tracks. Right, Anon?”

Anon nearly snapped his neck at that one. What were they talking about a little bit ago? Uhhh... “Huh?”

The two mares looked at each other briefly before they launched into a cacophony of laughter, Starlight more-so than Rarity. The latter pointed a hoof at him while clutching her stomach and letting out an exaggerated squeal. “D-Darling, what… were you d-doing?”

He rolled his eyes. “Spotting the copies to make sure she won’t accidentally shred an official one.”

“See?” Starlight said mid-recovery. She leaned to the side to toss a paper toward its maker (the shredder). “He’s super helpful, and—hah—he’s d-doing this all on his own. He doesn’t need… me to influence him!”

“Influence is an apt word, Starlight,” Rarity pointed out before plucking her forehooves off Starlight’s desk. She returned to all fours and flicked her mane in such a way that made Anon wonder if she was trying to bait Starlight further. “From what I see, you two are quite a pair.”

“A pair?” Starlight asked, her eyes widening. “W-We—”

“Oh who am I kidding, you two aren’t together,” Rarity quipped, a smirk betraying her intentions. She looked over at Fluttershy, who was awkwardly smiling, her gaze darting between the two of them. This drew a sigh from the living marshmallow, who turned away from the group and began walking toward the exit. “Well, Fluttershy, we should probably get out of their manes.”

Fluttershy nodded and hung her head a bit low, her ears splayed against her nape. “Sorry for interrupting you both.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Starlight replied, sending a smile towards Fluttershy. “You both were worried and wanted to make sure everything was alright. Why would I be upset by that?”

She perked up at that. “You’re right. I’m glad we checked.”

The two shared a glance before Fluttershy turned away and walked towards Anon.

“Anon?”

“Hmm?”

She dipped her head a bit and sheepishly smiled at him, her voice only a whisper, “Please treat Starlight well.”

Anon raised a brow. Why would she ask him that? Did she know about Twilight—wait, did she know that he and Starlight were together?!

His eyes threatened to widen, but he cleared his throat and tried to smile in Fluttershy’s direction. “Don’t—ehm—worry about that. She’s helped me get through some stuff I was going through lately. I couldn’t do that to her.”

Fluttershy bought that smile, if hers growing was anything to go off of. Also her wings twitched near the tips, not sure if that was normal either. “Good,” she simply stated. “And if you do get a paper cut, I have a first aid kit back at—”

Anon threw a hand up and shook his head. “No need. Starlight has one of those here. We’ll probably have to do a scavenger hunt or something to find it, though, but we should be fine. Heck, she might also have a bandage supply in her desk that I don’t know about.”

As if on cue, Starlight magic’d a roll of bandages over to him. It immediately made Fluttershy yelp, not expecting them to suddenly zap into existence right next to her, but she didn’t fall over like Rarity did earlier.

“And there it is!” The magic dissipated momentarily, the roll falling into his hand. “Thanks, Starlight.”

And then it blinked out of existence, his hand rolless. He looked back over at Starlight’s desk, only to see that exact roll now in her forehoof.

“My disappointment continues to grow into a deeper shade of green.”

Fluttershy chuckled behind a hoof and turned toward the exit. “Well then I’m glad you’re in good hooves too. I’ll see you around, Anon!”

“See you, Fluttershy—” Suddenly Anon stopped himself and added, “Actually, before you go, promise me you’ll tell that carrot muncher of yours that he owes me a bag of carrots?”

That made the pegasus turn right back to him, her attention gained in full. “He stole your carrots?”

“Few weeks ago, at the market. Bought two bags and he nabbed one like the little rascal he is. He even nibbled on one of them right in front of me before taking off!”

“Are you sure that was him?” Fluttershy asked with a head tilt.

“Unless you walk with another bunny during your shopping trips, then yes, I’m pretty sure it was him.”

She frowned and fiddled with her wings. “I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed that he did that.”

Anon gave her a slight smile and patted her head on the head. “Don’t worry. Angel’s quite sneaky for a bunny.”

Fluttershy hummed happily, her wings fluttering softly. “I’ll make sure he apologizes to you, Anon.” She folded her wings up and took a step back from him, which made him bring his hand back to the stack. He wondered if he was a bit too forward with that gesture, only to see the two mares sharing a glance with each other, one inquisitive (Starlight) and the other cheerful. The latter flicked a wing over at Starlight’s direction. “I hope you both have a great rest of your night!”

“Thank you, Fluttershy. We’ll survive from the dangerous—ack!”

Anon rubbed the top of his head after getting donked on the head by a rogue pencil sharpener. His mare’s aim was otherworldly, and that smirk that warped onto her face was nearly the same. “Ignore him once again. We hope you’ll have a good night too, right, Anon?”

“Y-Yeah,” he said softly, a grunt somewhat escaping mid-stutter. “Have a g’night, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy turned tail and walked out the door. As the hooffalls drew far from the room, Anon realized that once again, he and his mare were alone. The whirs of the little menacing shredder was the only noise to be heard. It begged for more papers, more pointless copies to annihilate, but none ever came. Instead, Starlight and Anon sat comfortably away from each other, distant, like two friends who were tired of each other's existence at that point.

Anon frowned. He didn’t like that thought. He wanted to describe the room differently, but that whole sudden visitation distracted him. All he knew was that his seat was definitely not near Starlight’s, and the face she put on in front of the two intruders fell just as quick as the click-clacking of their hooves. He wanted to walk over to her and give her a much-needed hug, but he felt like he couldn’t move. Instead, he watched her disgruntled appearance grow even more disheveled. She exhaled shakily, before she drew magic through her horn. The blue-ish shimmer enveloped the shredder momentarily, before the sounds it made fell to a depressed final hum. Then, she set it back down and looked over at him, the bags under her eyes beginning to form.

“Looks like Mount Everest will survive until tomorrow.”

He pointed over to the large stack. “You don’t want to finish this off real qui—”

She suddenly hopped out of her seat, which made him lose focus on what he was saying, his voice trailing off. He watched her trot over to him, her gait looking like she was slogging through mud. She eventually stood in front of him, her eyes picking apart at his form. He withheld a blush, not knowing what was going on in that noggin of hers, but then, without any warning, Starlight reared and crawled up Anon’s pant legs with her forehooves. She craned her head out to practically drape as much of herself over him (at least, that’s what he thought she was doing), but Anon wasn’t a fan of being smothered, even though it was done by her. He caught her muzzle in his hands, and gently cupped her cheeks, rubbing them softly with his thumbs.

She let out a happier sounding sigh and nuzzled his right hand. “No, we’ve been at this for long enough. I can handle the rest.”

“Even though your room is still a mess?” Anon asked with a raised brow.

A tired giggle escaped Starlight. “It’s way less of a mess now. We’ve pretty much done everything else.”

Anon took a moment to survey the room. She wasn’t wrong. With all the progress they had made, Mount Everest no longer touched the ceiling, the stack now much smaller, only reaching his elbow. He bet that Starlight could actually organize it a bit further, separating the remnants of the mountain (it was a hill now) into much smaller stacks. That would make the room feel way less cluttered. Maybe she could set them on the conveniently placed table that sat to the left of her? A safe spot to keep them away from him, and just far enough from any prying eyes. Besides, those papers were weapons; paper cuts were not his favorite thing.

Expanding his field of view, Anon noticed how the floor barely suffered from their organizing and shredding. Barely any paper shavings remained. Maybe they were remnants of some other copies that had spilled onto the floor days prior, and that bin never moved the entire time they were there, minus her magic holding it moments ago, so it had to be the reason. Whatever it was, he knew one thing was for sure: no sweeping was required. This made it way more manageable for her to organize and file what remained for tomorrow.

That accomplishment made Anon happy, happy enough to lean forward and kiss her square on her forehead, only narrowly poking his eye out with her very sharp horn.

“Teamwork makes the dream work.”

Starlight squirmed in his hands before scooting up just enough to lick his cheek. “You’re right, and I had one of the best teammates ever.”

He felt himself blush. “You’re probably right.”

Starlight escaped his grasp by pulling away from his hands. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked with a slight head tilt.

“Nothing. Nothing!”

She giggle-snorted herself into a tizzy, which made Anon let out a cross between a growl and a groan. His pain made his mare crane her head up to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m serious though. No pony else would’ve helped me out this late at night. So, thank you, Anon.”

He brought her close to his chest and wrapped his arms gently around her back. “You’re welcome, Star.”

She wiggled in his grasp. “Star?”

He peered down at her, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “Against that one too?”

She nuzzled into his chest with a low hum. “It’s a start.”

Anon smiled. “I’ll work on it a bit more.”

“You better,” she murmured. She peered up at him. “Otherwise I’ll start calling you Nonny.”

“Please don’t. That one is off limits.”

Starlight chuckled weakly into his shirt. “Sure…”

“Thank you. I’m so happy that I have such an understanding mare—”

“—Nonny.”

Suddenly, he had the primal urge to toss Starlight into the air. Unfortunately, he was too tired and so was she.

He decided to bring her even closer instead.

“Anon?”

“Hmm?”

“We should get going—”

Anon groaned. “Could we stay like this for a little longer?”

“But—”

“Please?”

…

“Okay, but only for a little longer.”

He snuggled into her mane, which earned him another cute squeak. He wasn’t ready to say good night to her just yet.

Author's Note

Yo imagine getting mind blocked because you wrote Opalescence taking over Equestria mid-stream, and didn't know if you should add it. Then, on top of it, you also wrote a line that you didn't know how to fix until you yeeted it off a cliff.

That was me.

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