A Big Blank Flank Starin' Back At Me
I sigh impatiently, head lowering to rest on my front legs folded on the table in front of me. Café Hay is listed as the highest rated restaurant in Ponyville, according to the extensive research I did before moving here, but so far this service is way below five stars.
I eye the waiter as he walks by again, silently hoping he’ll notice me staring and that I won’t have to draw attention to myself by calling out to him directly. I just want a daisy sandwich, dang it! How long can that possibly take them to make?!
My stomach rumbles, and I let out a groan of agreement. I’m getting hungrier with each passing second. Maybe I should add an order of hay fries…
As idle thoughts swirl around in my head, my gaze drifts off, vision blurring slightly as I stare into space. I have no idea how long I’ve been out of it once someone finally clears their throat and breaks me out of my reverie.
“Can I help you?” the stranger demands.
I snap to attention, sitting up straight and jumping back a little when I realize there’s an off-white pegasus suddenly standing right in front of me, his magenta glare managing to pierce like daggers through the disheveled, multicolored bangs hanging in front of his face. “Sorry!” I exclaim, panicking. “I’m sorry. Was I staring at you? I totally zoned out. I didn’t mean to!”
“...Oh,” he says, annoyed expression softening a little. “Alright then. My bad.” He turns back around, and as he does, I catch sight of something quite curious: his flank. His totally bare, totally blank flank, to be more specific. I look him up and down as he stands in line a few feet away. He isn’t the tallest or strongest stallion I’ve ever seen by a long shot, sure, but still, he’s clearly no longer a colt. And yet, no matter how long or hard I study his flank, there’s simply no cutie mark.
I already knew adult blank flanks existed, but it always seemed like such a sad concept to me. Cutie marks are what make ponies special – they’re what make ponies ponies. Without a cutie mark, you have no destiny, no purpose. An adult blank flank is…
…glaring at me again. Crap. I avert my eyes quickly, just in time to see the waiter arriving with my sandwich and drink. I squeak out a timid “thank you” and focus on eating my meal, hoping the pony in question won’t confront me as my thoughts continue to race.
I, of course, have no such luck. Barely two minutes later, the sound of the chair across from me scraping against the ground makes me look up, heart sinking as I realize the blank-flanked pegasus is taking a seat at my table.
“Zoned out again, eh?” he says, tone somewhere between chiding and playful. “Seems t’be a pattern with you.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry!” I whine, burying my face in my hooves in embarrassment before nervously meeting his eyes again. “I swear I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t staring on purpose. Um, not at first, at least. I just…”
He frowns. “You just…?”
I smile nervously. “I just couldn’t help but wonder, um… Oh, stars, how do I say this…” I tap my chin with my hoof. “Um... Where’s your cutie mark?”
He clicks his tongue and eyes my flank, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s yours?”
“Huh?!” My eyes widen, head whirling around in a panic – only to confirm that my cutie mark is, indeed, still there.
“Ha!” I look back at the now smirking stranger. “Made you look. Wow, that doesn’t usually work on most ponies.”
I give him a cautious smile, starting to feel my nerves ease up. “Ha, well… I’m not most ponies, you know.”
“Clearly.” A pause hangs in the air between us for a moment before he slowly offers me his hoof. “Name’s Rebel Yell.”
“Luster Dawn.” I shake his hoof politely. “I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”
“S’fine.” Rebel Yell shrugs dismissively, in a way that makes me wonder if maybe it isn’t actually fine. “Most ponies are a lot weirder about it.”
“I, like, just got here from Canterlot a few months ago,” I explain. “I really didn’t mean to be rude. I’ve just never seen a grown stallion without a cutie mark before.” He visibly tenses, and this time I can’t quite pinpoint what I’d said wrong. “I mean, I’ve never seen a lot of things before,” I clarify quickly. “Like, it probably says more about me than you.”
Rebel Yell seems to consider this for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, “Never seen a trans mare before either, I take it?”
“A trans… Oh!” My jaw drops as the realization hits me. “Oh! I didn’t – I’m so sorry! I mean, yes, you’re right, I’ve never seen – oh, but I still shouldn’t have assumed –”
“Whoa, dude, chill. S’okay. I get it – you’re a sheltered Canterlot filly. Not your fault.” He – she shrugs. “I mean, I’ve only been on estrogen for, like, a month. And I’m more on the nonbinary side, anyway, so… Whatever, y’know? No biggie.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Well, thank you. You’re certainly an interesting pony.” I pause for a moment, processing my own words. “Um... No offense intended.”
Rebel Yell chuckles. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess,” she says. “Lot nicer than what some ponies say.”
“Really?” I tilt my head to the side. “Are ponies mean to you?”
“Eh… Sometimes?” Rebel Yell pokes at the ground with her hoof. “Mostly about the blank flank thing, t’be honest. And I don’t know if I’d call ‘em mean, but they’re definitely not always nice.”
“Yeah…” I nod. Ponies, more than any other creatures, are sometimes known for sugarcoating their underhanded jabs to an extent that it’s often difficult to actually call them outright insults, though they still sting nonetheless; I remember it all too well from my early teen years in Princess Twilight’s School for Gifted Unicorns. “I know how that is.”
“Oh?” Rebel Yell says curiously.
“Well, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck nervously. “I’ve always been kind of… weird and awkward? Ponies at school always either avoided me or made fun of me. It’s part of why I moved to Ponyville.”
Rebel Yell nods. Before she can reply, the waiter arrives with her food. “Your… burger, sir.”
I frown, noticing the way she winces at the masculine title. “Uh, thanks,” Rebel Yell mutters.
“Wait,” I say as the waiter’s other words suddenly click together in my head. “Burger?” I lean forward to get a closer look at the sandwich, taking a quick sniff before recoiling in shock. “Oh my stars, is that –”
“Meat?” Rebel Yell nods as she takes a big, dramatic bite. “Mmhm. Sheesh, ya really are sheltered,” she chuckles through her food.
“I – I…” I stammer, totally and completely in shock. Adult blank flanks and trans mares I’ve at least heard of – but a pony eating meat? “Is that…allowed?”
Rebel Yell swallows and sets her burger down before glancing around and shrugging. “Hmm, well… I don’t see any princesses tryin’ to stop me, do you?”
“Okay, yeah, that was probably a stupid question.” I laugh at myself a little. “Um, sorry. I just… Wow! I didn’t even realize ponies could still digest meat, you know? I thought that was just something our, um, more primitive ancestors did.”
“Primitive?" Rebel Yell smirks and waves her burger at me. "Now just what’re you tryin’ t’say about me?”
“Eep! Nothing!” I yelp. “I’m –”
“Dude, if you apologize to me one more time, I’m gonna go crazy. Chill, okay? I’m just teasin’ ya now.” Rebel Yell gives me a genuine smile and reaches her hoof halfway across the table to cover mine. “I like teasin’ cute fillies, y’know.”
Rebel Yell winks, and my face suddenly feels really, really warm. “Oh,” I squeak, looking down at our connected hooves. “Um, okay. Sorry – er, wait, no, I mean –”
“Ha!” Rebel Yell’s hoof pulls away as she cackles in amusement, and I find myself missing her touch immediately. “You’re too funny, you know that?”
I giggle, her upbeat mood starting to make me feel more relaxed. In fact, I feel good. With a rush of confidence sweeping through me, I straighten my posture and clear my throat. “Rebel Yell, do – do you want to be friends?”
Rebel Yell pauses, burger held halfway to her mouth as she stares at me for a moment, looking somewhat confused. “Uh… Yeah, sure,” she finally says. “Sorry, not tryin’ to be rude or nothin', just – I’ve never had someone ask me that before.”
“You don’t have any friends either?!” I ask excitedly, planting my hooves on the table.
Rebel Yell barks out a laugh. “Stars’ sake, you’re unreal! Nah, dude, I got plenty of friends. S’just that most creatures are usually a little more subtle about lookin’ for friendships.” She pauses for a moment, looking contemplative before smiling again and nodding in approval. “But y'know what? I admire the boldness. So, yeah. Let’s be friends.”
I beam. Princess Twilight is going to be so proud of me!
Author's Note
The fic & chapter titles are both inspired by Blank Flank by Meletric. I'm going to try to title every chapter after lyrics from songs by the fandom!
Would y'all believe me if I said that if anyone in this fic is a blatant author self-insert, it's actually Luster Dawn, and not Rebel Yell? 
