#cheerilight

Reblog if you ship Cheeritwi 𓏵‧₊˚ ┊

HOT FOR TEACHER

Commission: Twirilee by Atlur

Surprise in the Library by Somepony

Twirilee Ahoy by Somepony

Also, when you are no longer in high school, come back and ask me again about CheeriLight, and I will show you a very long and very wonderful and very NSFW story.

AND THOU DOUBTEST MY ABILITY TO FIND CHEERLESTIA? BAH! Feast your eyes, and ship away:

Cheerilee and Princess Celestia by CaptainSpinFiction

Secret Meetings by KyoFishie

"Hff... hff... okay. Made it."

"... Twilight? What's up?"

"Hey Rainbow. You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

"Nah, I stopped thinking anything that happened to you was weird a long time ago. I pretty much just go with it now."

"... Right. Well, I needed to get away from the library for... well, reasons. So I was walking down the street and suddenly Cheerilee comes up to me and starts acting real friendly."

"Yeah? Lots of ponies like you."

"I'm starting to get that impression."

"What?"

"... Anyway. She starts calling me pretty and talking about how striking my wings are."

"Heh. Nice."

"And I got flustered and excused myself and literally not one minute later Thunderlane's walking up batting his eyelashes at me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's pretty rough being so hot. I get that all the time."

"Thanks, I... wait. Did you just call me hot?"

"Well... you see the thing about that is..."

Cheerilee sighed as the school bell rang. Somehow, the day before break always managed to be the most tiring. The week had been going fine, leaving Cheerilee to  hope that for once she would make it to the weekend without incident  The Cutie Mark Crusaders had decided to shatter this dream by crusading against Cheerilee's sanity. Diamond Tiara had done nothing to alleviate the situation and then Rumble had... No. No more thinking about that. Today was the first day of spring break. She had decided that she would put her old dancing clothes back to work, for today the normally reserved mare was going to go to a nightclub, just as she often used to do in her youth. 

Overpowering beats and deafening bass shook Cheerilee's body. This music (she had heard some ponies called something like wubstep) was far harsher of the psychadelic rock Cheerilee used to listen to in her youth. The fashions were foreign to her as well; compared to the sea of ponies wearing dresses and button up shirts, she might as well have been wearing her pajamas. It seemed the only similarity between now and then was the overwhelming amount of physical contact, something the rose colored lenses with which Cheerilee viewed her past had chosen to obscure.