Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

Chapters

First Encounter of the Pone Kind
Neat
Pinkie Supports Pharmercy
Panksy Pop
Totally Not Canon: Twilight's Party Cannon
The Rules
Have You Ever Meowed at a Cat?
The Bean Based Chapter

First Encounter of the Pone Kind

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

Sunset Shimmer yawned wide enough that her jaw popped. It had been a long day. Between school and time with her friends alternately studying and filling out applications for jobs she was either over qualified for or wholly unprepared for, it had been close to twelve hours since she’d seen the inside of her small home. All she wanted, as she opened the door with her key, was a hot shower followed by the downy embrace of her bed.

She shuffled through her dimly lit apartment, dropping her bag in a pile and disrobing as she went, until she was down to nothing but her underwear. She stopped at her dresser, stifling another yawn as she pulled open the top drawer where she kept her clean bras. She intended to grab the soft sporty one with the little turtle pattern on it. It was one of her favorite pairs to sleep in. Both comfortable and cute.

Instead of fresh cotton though, she got a handful of silky soft hair.

“...huh?” She squeezed, her mind stumbling over the unexpected texture and material in her underwear drawer.

With her other hand, Sunset reached over and turned the switch on a tall lamp, illuminating her bedroom. Inside her dresser drawer, in what could only be described as a nest of bras, was a pink fluffy pony roughly the size of a small dog or large-ish housecat. Sunset blinked tiredly, brain still struggling in vain to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Huh…?” Sunset swallowed. “Is that a cutie mark?”

She poked the trio of colorful balloons emblazoned on the pony’s pink flank. Her vivid hallucination—obviously brought on by too many human ‘energy shots’—felt soft, squishy, and firm. It felt like a real pony, which was patently impossible. Then it yawned, which was also impossible, and blinked tired looking blue eyes up at her. Several questions flashed through Sunset’s mind. Who? Why? What?

“How did you…?”

The pony snorted at her and made a sleepy sounding braying noise before grabbing the drawer’s lip and the inside edge of the dresser itself and pulling the drawer closed with a loud wooden bang.

Sunset stared at it for a second, her left eyelid twitching, and then yanked the drawer back open. The pink invader, however was gone. The drawer was definitely minus one pink pony, the only evidence of it having even been there was an indention in her aforementioned unmentionables and the faint smell of hay.

Later, after her shower, Sunset pulled out each drawer from the dresser and searched every inch of the Swedish named piece of furniture for an undiscovered magical portal to Equestria. She found nothing.

Neat

Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

A few days later, Sunset once again found herself awake later into the evening than she liked. None of the applications she’d put in had panned out yet, but thanks to another energy drink and sugar-fueled bender with her friends, another dozen or so were already infiltrating the Canterlot City mail system. If she was lucky, something a bit above ‘fry cook’ but below ‘neurosurgeon’ would give her a call back before the summer was over.

With her front door locked and the lights on, she hit the shower at a wobbly version of lightspeed. The stall’s glass door fogged over as the blessedly hot water flowed over her. The heat eased the tension in her shoulders and back, opening her pores as the day’s dirt washed away. Her bodywash came in a lavender scent so strong it watered her eyes without ever getting in past her eyelids.

The flowery smell permeated the entire bathroom while the steam and her soaked hair filled her vision. After a couple of years of practice now, Sunset could bathe herself by touch alone. She worked up a lather in her hands and started at the base of her skull, running her fingers through her locks of hair. She leaned into the stream of the shower nozzle, the soft hiss of the water filling her ears just as much as the lavender filled her nose.

Sunset shook the hair out of her face to keep the suds away from ears and nose, opening her eyes to locate the conditioner she would use next amid her various hygiene and hair care products. Out of the corner of her eye, through the filmy shower door, she caught a hint of movement in the main bathroom area.

“Huh?” Sunset straightened up, squinting through the glass. Nothing seemed out of place, but she could feel that prickly sense of being watched starting under her skin.

She stood there, motionless under the shower, flower scented soap dripping off her to swirl down the drain with a muffled gurgle. Memories of her hallucination days ago flitted across her mind. She was under a lot of pressure, and the constant stress combined with her solitude seemed to invite these little moments of confusion. But if she just waited it out, it would pass. Sunset sighed and wiped the fog from the glass, blinking at her completely empty, safe, bathroom.

“I really need to hold back on the Redbull cupcakes. I’m either going to go off the deep end from lack of sleep,” she looked down at herself, smiling ruefully, “or I’ll need a new wardrobe before the season is out.”

Light flashed in the small room, a small motorized sound joining the shower’s hiss for a moment before it silenced.

Sunset jerked her head up, slinging water and shampoo to splatter against the tiles around her. Outside the shower door, a pink blob the size of a dog moved past the portion of the glass that was still fogged over. Air caught in her throat, the water suddenly feeling much hotter against her skin when Sunset took a step to get a better angle on the blob.

Sitting on her bathroom floor, a pink colored pony with a large puffy tail was shoving a old retro polaroid camera into its mane with one hoof. In it’s mouth was a fresh polaroid, the surface of it just starting to darken and develop. The pony snorted and flicked its head back and forth, shaking out the picture until it clearly showed the interior of the shower stall and Sunset herself with her hands on her hair and suds dripping down her naked body.

“Hey!”

The pony looked up at Sunset with big blue eyes and smiled brightly before jumping up onto all four hooves. Its lips pulled back in another snort and whinny, showing off how gently it was holding the picture and how healthy it’s gums were in the process.

Sunset fumbled at the door handle, water and soap making her fingers slick and slippery. She brushed her palms over her hips and tried again, this time finding enough grip to yank the door open. Cool air rushed into the shower, stealing her breath and making her flinch for a second. Sunset grimaced, forcing through her body’s reaction and took a careful step out of the shower.

Her bathroom, once again, was empty. Shampoo dripped off her to plop onto the floor in small pools where the pony had stood just a second ago. There was nothing left to even note its passage. Nothing was different. There wasn’t any curly strands of pink hair. It even took the polaroid...wherever it had gone.

Sunset shivered, casting a glance at the closed door that led to her bedroom. Where her dresser sat with its closed drawers. She swallowed roughly. Shampoo dripped on the floor.

Sunset stepped carefully back into the warm spray of water and closed the glass stall door behind her, staring through it as the water rinsed her clean.

Pinkie Supports Pharmercy

Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

Sunset jerked her head up hard and fast, pulling her chin off her soft chest and blinking sleep from her eyes. Her neck was starting to complain from all the up and down. The form in front of her on her small dining room table was still mostly incomplete. The ink of her name and basic contact details long dry. She still needed to fill out her classes and certificates for the review board to look over.

At least the section about her work history would be quick.

“Wiiiiizzzzarddd.” Sunset grogged out in a croak. She sounded like those human elders that smoked. That made her grin for a moment, but truth be told, her throat felt like ten miles of dry creekbed.

Sunset pushed herself up and shuffled into her tiny kitchenette to grab a glass of cold tea. She was really feeling the caffeine withdrawal from not attending the usual session with the girls. The sugar and stimulants normally had her buzzing around, knocking out job applications and college entrance forms like dominos, in between karaoke and rounds of video games. But she promised herself that she’d cut back.

She needed her brain cells after all, and the…incidents...were more than a little worrisome.

Sunset downed her stale tea with only a little gagging and stretched out the kink developing in her back. “I need to wake up more…” Sunset glanced at the glowing runes on her microwave. The girls would likely still be awake, she could try calling one of them. “No...if they are still up, Rainbow’s probably taking up everyone’s attention to play that shooter game.”

Sunset stretched again, groaning tiredly as she cast a look out into her living room. The game was pretty popular, she even owned her own copy and a gamebox to play it on. Now that she thought about it, she could fire it up, get on her online account and go a few rounds with the others on the headset.

She grinned and tossed the dregs of her tea into the sink. “Wake up and spend time with friends having fun.”

A few minutes later—after changing into her PJs—Sunset’s TV blazed in her dark living room, as explosions and glowing projectiles flew in every direction except at the enemy team.

“Um...excuse me, but could we get everyone on the payload...if that’s alright…?”

“Hey, where did that ninja guy go? Ah still got five bullets with his name on it!”

“Rainbow, darling, you are the tank, please stay with the team!”

“I have a mech that flies, Rarity, I’ll stay with the team when you learn how to keep the teleporter up.”

“Weeee! Aw crap, I missed the ledge by this much.”

“Just rewind time again.”

“Oops...it’s on cooldown!”

“Here they come again!” Sunset barked into the mic of her headset, lining up her crosshairs on the lead enemy and releasing a barrage of rockets. The character on her screen swerved, dodging her attack and hitting her square in the tactical visor with their counter attack.

Sunset grumbled under breath as the screen switched to show her killer’s view for a moment before returning her to the team’s base. “This match is a wash.”

“We can still win this!” Rainbow Dash’s voice chimed in through Sunset’s speakers. “We’ve just got to get around this choke point and we’re home free. Everybody form up on me, I’ll..ugh...stay on the ground this time.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a sec—”

“Sunset! Change to heals, we’ll need it for the last push.”

“Roger that.” Sunset grinned. She wasn’t very good at these types of games, but any character that allowed her to damage or heal without having to aim made her feel at least competent at it. A moment later she was charging out the door of the base, staff in hand and ready to engage a golden stream of goodness on whichever of her teammates needed it.

She rounded the corner where the payload was sitting and locked onto her nearest comrade to glide swiftly over the small chasm between her and them. “Support has arrived!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sunset felt two fuzzy arms reach around her from behind as something warm and soft pressed into her back. Two small, pink, hooves cupped her chest, lifting her breasts up to the point it looked like her shirt was going to explode from the strain.

A loud, happy squeal rang in the ear that wasn’t covered by her headset. Sunset jerked forward, throwing herself onto the floor and sending her controller flying. The pink hooves held on tight and Sunset suddenly found herself on her hands and knees, being ridden by the tiny pony that had come to haunt her.

The hooves let go and Sunset looked back to see the pony sitting on her back, her game controller in its hooves, with a determined look on its face. She glanced back at her TV in time to see her character reach and then save her team with a few quick bursts of healing. With only seconds to spare the payload inched over the line, winning the match.

“Way to go, Sunset!”

“Nicely done.”

“We’re all support now!”

“No...um...only Sunset was playing that class.”

“Well, Ah supported with my bullets.”

Sunset blinked a few times while the game played a quick replay of the last minute team save her character had pulled off. She heard the pony on top of her bray in satisfaction, rocking gently when it jumped down next to her. She stared into those blue eyes, her mouth hanging open as she tried to jumpstart her brain.

“Meep! Meep!”

The pony smiled, stuck out its tongue and jumped into the air with all four hooves kicking so fast they were a blur. When it hit the ground and took off into the shadows of her apartment, Sunset swore it left behind a candy scented dust cloud.

She didn’t move for a full minute after that, the next match already starting without her. Eventually she picked her jaw up off the floor and sat back onto her heels, the game controller clattering down off her back to the carpet. When her brain finally finished its reboot process, Sunset wondered how much an exorcism would cost.

Author's Note

Yes, the title is a shipping joke.

...because I am shipping trash.

Panksy Pop

Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

Sunset gaped in disbelief at the screen on her phone. Her call had gone dead a second earlier and it automatically asked her if the number she’d dialed was a new contact.

“Certainly not with customer service like that! First they laugh at me, then they have the gall to suggest I contact an exterminator and a pet psychic?” Sunset hit the home button on the phone and tossed it over to the far end of her sofa. “The exterminator already threatened to call animal services on me about my ‘horse problem!’”

She sighed and slumped into the couch cushions. Sunset was tired. Irritable. The caffeine withdrawal from quitting the energy drinks and cupcakes was still draining her on a daily basis. The little sleep she’d gotten in the last several days was fitful, hardly counting as rest at all. She was so anxious, antsy even, that she could barely sit still for long in her own home. She needed to find a fix for the situation and soon.

Sunset gave her phone another glare. “Stupid exorcists...chargin’ too much…”

She groaned, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands for a moment. She needed to get up and get back to her applications. Summer wasn’t going to last forever and she still hadn’t heard anything back from the ones she’d already put in. She needed to get up, fix some tea and really hit the job sites. Maybe make a sandwich too. She needed fuel if she was going to get done anytime soon.

Sunset yawned, her jaw popping loudly. “I’ll get…” The rest of her sentence ended in a mumbled collection of noises that didn’t resemble words so much as snores, Sunset’s eyes fluttering closed.

When she opened them again, her living room was dark, only dimly lit by silvery moonlight coming in through her windows. Sunset blinked, confusion running over her face at the seeming lost of time and consciousness. Her grimace twisted when she looked down at herself and noticed that while she was still on the couch, she’d somehow acquired a blanket and pillow. Judging from the slightly musty smell, they were the ones she kept in the closet for her occasional sleepover guests.

“When did I...why am I not...what?” Sunset sat up, pulling away the blanket. Her mouth made a silent ‘O’ when she did so, feeling skin slide over skin and weight shift dramatically under her shirt.

As if she suddenly lacked support she’d enjoyed earlier.

Sunset yanked up her shirt, confirming that her padded underwire was indeed missing. Instead of white cotton and polyester, she was greeted with tan skin and pink spots. The quiet of her home grew deafening to Sunset’s ears and she slowly lowered her shirt back in place before looking around carefully. She squinted at the darker shadows, searching for any hint of something out of place. Nothing moved or made a sound.

She swung her legs off the couch, vaguely relieved that her pants and underwear still seemed in place. Sunset threw the blanket to the floor and fished around on the far cushion until she found the hard plastic and glass of her phone. She brought it to life with a touch, it’s tiny on-board light shining like a torch. She pointed it into the darker recesses of her living room, banishing the darkness in small patches.

“Uh...pony?” Sunset swallowed hard, hoping that a flash of pink wouldn’t jump out at her. “God, I sound like a loon...if only I knew what you wanted? Or even your name?”

Nothing of any shade jumped out, let alone moved, as Sunset panned her phone’s light around. She took a deep breath and held it until her lungs started to ache. She let out the breath slowly, willing her heart beat to slow with it. The rub and slide of the cloth of her shirt was distracting, but Sunset forced herself through the whole exercise.

When she felt better, she climbed to her feet. “Maybe...I passed out, then woke up, got the blanket and took off my bra…and then went back to sleep? Which I don’t remember? Not every weird thing that happens is the fault of a pony that might not even be real.” She slapped her cheeks then she felt another yawn coming on, and then grabbed her phone once more. The battery was low, but she could still get some sleep in her actual bed and get it charged if she plugged it up now.

Sunset grunted and shuffled out of her living room area and around the corner to her small bedroom. She checked her dresser, but all the drawers were closed and she didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary coming from her unmentionables. She stood still in the doorway, letting the calming noises and smells of home wash away her anxiety over the random visitations.

A pony was appearing in her home. A pony pony, not some animal. Which was impossible. Even if she allowed herself to imagine that such a thing was possible without the portal at school, there was still the issues of the pony not being human and being the size of a large house cat. All those facts combined made her doubt her own mind at times.

Sunset shook her head, smiling ruefully as she flipped on her light. “I wonder if the pony is supposed to represent someone at school I know? I wouldn’t think going cold turkey on cupcakes and energy drinks could make my subconscious act up like this!”

She laughed to herself, stepping into her room and setting her phone on top of the nightstand by her bed. She bent down and fished out the thin white cable that transferred power into the small device, and plugged it in. The screen blinked happily at her before going dark again as it started to charge. Sunset moved to pull back the sheets on her bed when she caught a speck of color on her phone out of the corner of her eye. Just above the red and yellow smudge of her own reflection was something blue. Sunset raised an eyebrow and looked back over her shoulder and upwards.

Her bedroom ceiling was covered in bras.

Sunset’s breath caught in her throat and she felt cold. She slumped backwards onto her bed, mouth open as she made a series of choking noises. Dozens upon dozens of bras were pinned to her ceiling, their straps intertwined together and their hooks all snapped neatly to each other. There were black full cup bras. There were white lacy demi-cup bras. There were blue sports bras and pink underwires.

All together the bras formed a now familiar pink equine face with big blue eyes smiling down at her.

“W-w-wait…” Sunset worked her jaw silently for a moment, her eyes bouncing from one pair to the next, “I don’t...I don’t own this many bras…”

Totally Not Canon: Twilight's Party Cannon

Author's Note

AN UNPLANNED CROSSOVER WITH MY FIC SCARY BUTT FUN (fair warning: NSFW).

Totally Not Canon: Twilight's Party Cannon

Pinkie Loves Bacon Bits

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

...and now a Seraphimus-(badly)inspired crossover...

Twilight rubbed the sleep out of the corners of her eyes, her glasses held in one hand while she shuffled into the bathroom at Sunset's home. It was close to midnight, and Sunset had only recently made it in from a late shift at her new job and was currently in the shower, making the room warm and humid. Twilight made it to the toilet mostly by touch and familiarity with the room's layout before dropping her glasses back in place and lifting the seat.

It was only after she'd also lifted her night shirt out of the way and reached down to free herself from her panties that she noticed a third presence in the bathroom with them. Standing just outside the shower stall, was a small, dog-sized, aggressively pink pony. The pony had a big poofy mane and tail and was rearing up on its hind hooves while it somehow brandished an obviously fake halloween costume prop of a butcher knife in its forehoof. Bright blue eyes blinked up at Twilight, a stunned look on the pony's face.

Apparently, she'd interrupted...something. "Uh...Sunset?"

"Oh thank god! Twilight, please…please, tell me you see a little pink pony in here too."

Sunset sounded uncharacteristically distressed - but Twilight imagined - from Sunset's perspective, the pony must look like one of those old horror movie scary silhouettes, what with the raised knife and all. Twilight swallowed and nodded before realizing that Sunset couldn't see her. "Uh, yeah. Where did-?"

"Don't worry about that now!" Sunset shouted from under the spray. "Just do something! Get it to leave, vanish, whatever! I can't take this anymore!"

The pony continued to stand there, frozen in place, staring at Twilight. Twilight opened her mouth to ask what she should do in this situation, but she was pulling a blank. Despite the unusual circumstances, her bladder was eating up most of her attention, making her face off with the tiny apparition even more uncomfortable. Then, an idea occurred to her. An awful idea, but it was an idea nonetheless.

Twilight locked eyes with the pink equine invader, staring intensely back into those blue eyes. By feel and years of practice, Twilight worked her thumb into the band of her underwear and hooked it down enough to withdraw her penis. She maintained the stare, daring the pony to move first. To look away. She grabbed her dick and pointed it into the bowl, from there, she let nature and gravity do the rest. The relief was immediate and immense. So was the effect.

The pony locked up even more, its body starting to shake from the strain of holding its pose and the added stress of meeting Twilight's challenge. Those big eyes widened at the sight of Twilight's anatomy, then they started to tear up when she began to pee. To the foreign equine's credit, she held the eye contact for most of the prolonged wee-session. Almost. Before the last drops left Twilight, the pony dropped the costume prop knife and settled back onto all fours. Her stare became a glare and she snorted at Twilight in frustration before throwing her bouncy mane back in a huff and marching out of the bathroom with her head held high.

Twilight sighed contently once she was done and the weird animal-shaped shared hallucination was gone. "She...it...it's gone now, Sunset."

"Oh my god, thank you, Twilight! I could kiss you!"

"Well, I'll be in the bed if you still want to after you're dried off. I might even have convinced myself this was all a bad dream by then." Twilight lowered the lid on the toilet, her fingers sliding lightly over the flush handle. She let it be. Sunset could deal with it when she got out. "See you in a bit, I guess."

"Better you than that pink...thing."

"Why did it have hair like Pinkie Pie?"

"I try not to think about things I don't really want the answers to."

Twilight scratched her head and yawned. "Yeah...that sounds like a good policy..."

The Rules

Pinkie Pie Loves Bacon Bits

An absurd Derpibooru-inspired story.

The beat dropped at the same moment the last cardboard box hit the concrete floor of Sunset’s garage. Her wireless headphones pumped the hammering rhythm of the music on her playlist directly into her ears, isolating the girl more effectively than any set of walls or dimensional membrane was capable. The music filled her senses and washed everything else away so she could think. Or not think as the case might be. It helped Sunset focus on the task of moving storage containers of nearly a hundred extra bra tops out of her small home and into the garage.

The music also helped Sunset shake her ass like she still had a tail.

She swung her hips wide, arms still up from the box toss, improvising a victory dance of sorts for a task finally completed. The warm, stuffy air in the closed garage felt almost blister hot across her exposed legs and midriff. The mild sweat she’d built up during the move dried quickly, whisked away into the rafters while she gyrated to a bass line that wanted to turn her eardrums to jelly. It took less than a minute for that heat to turn uncomfortable, but when it did, Sunset merely took a step back and closed the door.

Back in her airconditioned living room, Sunset’s dance calmed down to small movements of her shoulders and head, lifting her heels high with each barefoot step across her carpet. She was feeling good today and her whole body seemed to want in on the celebrations. She’d gotten a couple of calls and an email back from a few of the places she’d sent resumes the past couple of weeks. Nothing was set in stone, but the first step was done. Now all she had to do was make sure she was getting a good amount of rest and that the extra underwear she’d pulled off her bedroom ceiling made it to a donation center before the weekend was out.

Sunset spun around, dropping low into a squat, knees wide and feet together. She bounced quickly, the denim of her short shorts brushing against the back of her heels in time with the thumping music as the song built up to the lyrics. When the deep baritone voice spoke through her headphone speakers, she stood back up, leading with her butt before rising to fling her hair around in a red and gold fan. It was a move she’d seen the cheerleaders doing and it always grabbed the attention of anyone watching.

Not that anyone was watching her now. Unless she counted the birds outside her window that were enjoying the sunlight. That same sunlight was sending shafts of light into her home that provided spotlights for her impromptu performance. After the frankly weird turn her haunting situation had taken a few nights previously, something had occurred to her; the ‘visitations’ only happened late at night, long after the sun had set and when she was feeling exceptionally tired.

Neither condition applied at the moment. It wasn’t even noon yet and she’d slept the previous night away like a hibernating bear, thanks to the stress overload she’d experienced. Realizing she was safe from her personal pink poltergeist made the callbacks from the little retail shops she’d applied at, the cherry on top of her good vibes. All together it made her want to dance.

So she did.

Dancing, however, made her thirsty. Sunset twirled again, heading for her kitchen nook and refrigerator, walking as if she was trying to keep a hula hoop circling her waist. Her head bobbed along with the music while she cracked open the fridge and scanned its contents. The top shelf held a half-full pitcher of sweetened tea and a mostly empty carton of orange juice. While the second shelf was overfilled with an assortment of tupperware containers filled with the leftovers of the last week or two of her dinners.

“Hmmm...need to do something about those.” Sunset wrinkled her nose, eyeing the the cloudy plastic. Hanging out less with her friends meant more meals at home, and that meant more leftovers. The tupperware and refrigeration meant she had to wash over all less dishes though.

The slowly spoiling food was Future Sunset’s problem. Right Now Sunset’s issue was thirst, and what she wanted to quench it with was located on the bottom most shelf of the fridge. She bent forward, one hand on the door, and pushed aside a styrofoam take-out container to reach a cold cylinder of aluminium filled with deliciousness. The chill from the can—and the refrigerator's vents—swept up her arm and down Sunset’s shirt in a pleasing way as she wrestled her drink from the plastic ring that kept it attached to the last of its compatriots.

With her soda finally free, Sunset popped the tab, the fridge door still blowing cold air at her. She tossed it back, eyes closed as she drank in the literal liquid sugar and tingling sensation the carbonation assaulted her tonsils with. The refreshment hit the spot with first swallow. Sunset sighed contently, lifting the can to press against the warm skin of her forehead, the condensation mixing with the little remaining sweat there.

Sunset was just lowering the can again when she heard a quiet gasp followed by a happy sounding knicker that definitely wasn’t part of the rump-shaking remix coming through her headphones.

Sunset’s eyes snapped open and the can in her hand started to buckle under her grip as she struggled to hold back her flight reaction. Every muscle in her body tightened at once and she had to force her head to turn to look deeper into her kitchen. Not five feet from her, standing on her kitchen counter, was the tiny pony. It had a huge smile on its face, stretching its head in what seemed like it should be a painful way, but the apparition jittered in place like a happy dog that just spotted the stick it was about to fetch.

It shook, almost to the point of vibrating, making tiny hops from one hoof to another. The tips of four hooves drumming on the wooden countertop got steadily louder as those soul-searching eyes zeroed in on Sunset. The pony was shaking so much, its poofy tail was starting to leave loose pieces of confetti in her sink behind it.

“B-b-but,” Sunset sputtered and coughed, “it...it’s the middle of the day! You can’t be here! You only show up at night!” The pony cared not one whit and continued to stare intently at her, though it didn’t try to make eye contact. Its hips did start to waggle exaggeratedly, like a cat about to pounce. “I’m not tired, either! Those are the rules! You can’t just break your own rules...what are you staring at?”

Sunset took a step back from her appliances, oversized pony eyes tracking her. Well, tracking her body. Sunset looked down at herself, half expecting to find herself covered in some sort of bra-only outfit. She hadn’t put one on in the morning when her paranoia had been strongest and she’d convinced herself that it was the bras that drew the attention of her personal demon horse.

Instead of some JRPG reject spellcaster bra-armor, Sunset found nothing out of the ordinary with her clothing. But she did notice two somethings prominently—pointedly—different about her appearance. She looked back and forth between the pink pony and the the clear indention of her nipples through her thin tee shirt.

“Wait,” Sunset looked back up and gesturing at her open fridge with her free hand, “this isn’t what you think! It’s the cold air...human mammaries react...it’s not like I’m happy to see you.”

The pony licked its lips, launching itself off the counter a second later. Sunset threw herself backward, arms flailing wildly in an attempt to escape. She tripped on the edge of the carpet where it met the linoleum of her kitchen floor, landed hard on her butt just as the pony collided with her abdomen. Before she knew what was happening, a furry, fluffy equine slurmed itself under and inside her t-shirt. Soft hair and warm hooves slid over her belly, the tip of one hoof using her belly button for purchase as the pony climbed the short distance required to plant its face directly into her cleavage from below.

“Hey! Hey! He-heheheh! That’s tickles, get out of there!” Sunset thrashed around—most from the involuntary spasms the tickling was causing her—pawing at her clothing ineffectual to evict their new tenant. She froze in mid-spaz a second later when she felt the pony blow a raspberry against her ribcage.

“Come. Out! OF THERE!” Sunset looked down and grabbed the collar of her already stretched shirt, yanking it open to the fabric’s breaking point. Tightly coiled and compressed pink mane exploded out, turning her world rose tinted and then black.

When she came to, Sunset found herself lying topless on her couch. The light coming in from her windows was angled differently and cast the whole room in a golden glow. She sat up stiffly and rubbed her face tenderly. Whatever the demon horse kept in its mane had hit her like a surprise haymaker and she was feeling more than a little groggy. Sunset groaned and turned to look toward her kitchen area when a flash of yellow caught her attention. On her small coffee table was her wireless headphones, a post-it note, a glass of water and what looked like a couple of pills of painkiller from her bathroom medicine cabinet.

“Wha?” She reached out and pulled the note close enough to read. There weren’t any legible words she could make out, just a jittery scrawl of ink on the paper. At the bottom of the short note, however, was a clumsy arrow that pointed toward where her encounter with the pony had happened. From where she sat, Sunset could see another bright yellow post-it note stuck to the wall at knee-height.

After a moment’s consideration, she popped the pills into her mouth and took a drink of water. Sunset climbed to her feet and walked over to next note. Under the note was her lost can of soda and the bucket she used when she mopped. The post-it was again covered in an unreadable scribble with another arrow pointing at the fridge. Sunset squatted down and retrieved the crumpled, empty can and noted that it looked like her entire kitchen floor looked freshly cleaned.

The fridge was likewise spotless, her leftovers gone and the plastic containers washed and drying in the nearby sink. There was even a new six-pack of soda on the bottom shelf and another ‘note.’ This one pointed her out to the garage where she found her shirt sitting on top of her washing machine, laid out to dry in the sun and heat so the stretched cotton would shrink a bit.

Next to the damp shirt was one last post-it. Sunset picked it up and stepped back into her cooled apartment. Amid the scribbles and chicken-scratch there was a rough heart shape. Sunset blinked at it in silence and then looked back around her living room to make sure there weren’t any she’d missed.

Finding nothing else out of place, Sunset folded up the little note in her palm. “Since when do demon pony ghosts apologize? And...which should I be more concerned about: the little heart doodle, or the fact that I don’t own any post-it notes it could have borrowed to draw it on?”

Have You Ever Meowed at a Cat?

Sunset turned the keys to the off position, killing the engine in her little blue utility vehicle. She was parked in her garage, her trip to the donation center complete and all the boxes of extra bras finally ejected from her home. She’d even swung by the store to pick up a few things before coming home. All in all, it had been a productive day and tomorrow promised to be likewise as full, now that she had an interview to prepare for as well.

Sunset sat in the driver’s seat, listening to the car’s engine tick, and took a deep breath. “Please don’t be there…please little pink pony. Ghost. Demon...thing? I really need to just have a good evening, get to bed early and then make it to that interview. It’s not that much to ask, is it?” Sunset frowned for a second, but then smirked, scoffing at the thoughts running through her head. “Heck, if you’re good, I’ll let you do...whatever it is you want this weekend! I’ll walk around topless! I don’t care, I just really need this job! The last of the bits I brought over from Equestria are running out fast…”

Sighing, Sunset let her head rest forward on the steering wheel for a long moment before opening her door and climbing out. The garage was hot and stuffy as usual, but nothing seemed out of place. It was quiet. She held her breath, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop, and looked around. Nothing pink or equine jumped her or exploded out of her washing machine. No giggling ghostie or phantom horse appeared to whinney in her ear. Sunset slowly let out the breath and relaxed, closing her door and walking around the back to open the rear hatch. She grabbed a couple of overloaded canvas totes, struggling to hold them, her keys, and close the hatch back again. Finally, with her bags in hand, Sunset tottered into her small apartment proper.

Her living space, too, checked out clean. The interior was just as she’d left it a few hours ago. Lacking any apparitions to deal with, Sunset set herself to putting up the food and cleaning supplies she’d bought, humming a little tune as she moved around her kitchen nook. Fresh greens, tortilla chips, and dish soap put away, Sunset grinned to herself. “This is more like it. Nothing weird going on. Just me doing human stuff. No magical oopsies to deal with or rogue Equestrian villains on the loose, which is how I like it!”

She chuckled, tossing her now empty totes onto the wall hook by the door and spun happily in place. “That interview is as good as nailed!” Sunset ended her spin with a hop and skipped off deeper into her home, passing the folding partition that separated her living room from where her bed and dressers made up her “bedroom”. She kicked off her shoes as she went, shuffling along until her socks were removed and joined with the ever-present semi-pile of clothing on her floor. It was starting to creep up past her ankles, which meant laundry day was right around the corner. Ignoring it for now, Sunset yanked open her top dresser drawer and pulled out her magical journal.

While it wasn’t important by any stretch, compared to some of the weird stuff she had to deal with from time to time, Sunset wanted to let Princess Twilight know she’d landed an interview. She was one more step closer to living what passed as a normal life in this human world! She turned and let herself drop back onto the bed with a flop that sent her pillows flying. Snagging a pen from her nightstand, Sunset flipped to the first blank page and happily scrawled ‘Dear Princess Twilight.’

Sunset wavered for a moment, her mind turning while she held the ball point to the paper. Should I mention the pink pony that keeps popping up? She chewed at her lip, weighing it for the hundredth time. It wasn’t really an issue, not like the sirens had been, or how things had gone down at the Friendship Games, or that kerfuffle out in the woods, or the time at the movie studio. No one was in danger. The world wasn’t teetering on collapse. This was small change. It was localized to just her and her apartment. It might not even be real...by some definition of ‘real’ anyway.

For the hundredth time, she decided to not mention the pink pony that seemed to be haunting her. She could always send Twilight a message later about it. Right now, she just wanted to go over how she was going to get ready for her interview at the mall with the manager of the Sushi Shack. Which meant she needed to give Twilight a primer of just what ‘sushi’ was. Giggling to herself and kicking her feet, Sunset whipped the pen into motion, spelling out just how game changing this development was!

A little more than an hour later, Sunset was sitting on her couch, a bowl of salad on her lap and a fork in her hand as she watched an old movie on her TV. She was mostly done with the salad already, absently licking her lips to clear them of tangy dressing, and she wasn’t even to the second act of the film. She wasn’t too bothered by this, she knew the old black and white movie well enough to quote from it, but it never failed to keep her attention. After the film was over, she intended to take a long shower and get herself completely relaxed before going over her rehearsed steps to a successful interview. Look the interviewer in the eyes. Smile. Speak clearly and confidently. Be attentive. Don’t come across as desperate. Be warm and cuddly. Breathe softly and press your nose into their palm.

Sunset popped a cherry tomato into her mouth, smirking as she chewed and watched the actors on screen break into another song and dance number. She sat back comfortably and scratched idly at the warm, silky softness nestled up against her side. The song ramped up, the people around the lead actor, all just regular people that were looking on in curiosity, suddenly fell into step and started to dance along. It reminded her of home. Sunset started to hum along with the music, pulling the furry loaf closer as the dancers spun and twirled.

Wait.

Sunset blinked. “Nose in their palm? That’s not how humans do job interviews at all!” She lowered her eyes, looking down at the spot on the couch next to her that was suspiciously warm and comfortable with growing levels of dread. Her hand was practically absorbed into a pile of pink curls. Her fingers dangling out over a furry face and lightly touching the soft snout of a tiny pony. Her tormentor sat next to her, legs curled comfortably under its body and apparently asleep. Pressed up beside her, the tiny—possible psychotic break—was the size of a lap dog and twice as cute.

Sunset sat very still, her breathing shallow and weak. She didn’t know what to do. Should she move? Would it wake up? If it did, what would happen? If it didn’t, was it just going to keep sleeping on her couch like some displaced pet that her lease certainly did not cover? Slowly as she dared, Sunset started to lift her hand back out of that pink mass of mane. She didn’t want to disturb the little menace. The antics it got up to were not what she needed right now. Inch by inch her hand came away, slipping through that bubblegum shaded hair, until just her fingertips remained. Then the little pony yawned.

Sunset yanked her hand away and then froze again to let the horse settle back down. She stared down at the small equine, air caught in her throat and her hand awkwardly above its head. The pony nickered softly, blowing through its lips, and snorted before adjusting its legs slightly, but otherwise didn’t move. Sunset let go of the breath she was holding and leaned away, careful to not further bother the little creature. First one leg, then the other, walking her feet heel-to-toe, until just her hip still rested against the pony. She bit her lip , steeling her nerves and gripping the armrest of her couch.

If I pull at the same time, I can get off without shaking the couch and pivot toward the bathroom...or into the kitchen? Sunset frowned, eyeing both potential locations. On one hand, she could barricade herself in the bathroom, prioritizing defense. One the other hand, the kitchen contained her frying pans, suitable iron weapons versus otherworldly threats. I don’t really want to fight it...it’s not even doing anything. If I lock myself in the bathroom, I can use my towels to sleep on. But...I might miss my interview. What do I do?

The pony’s breathing seized up, its little body going rigid for a moment before it let out a tiny snort.

Sunset half pulled, half jumped, scrambling off her couch with all the grace of a backed up food disposal. She spilled herself onto the floor next to her sofa, spilling her salad bowl on the carpet in the process. The fork went flying off into some corner to clatter off the wall. Sunset grunted when she hit her tailbone painfully, whipping her head back around to keep an eye on her personal terrorizer. It was still there. Still loafing on her couch. Still, thankfully, asleep.

Or pretending to be, just to keep Sunset guessing.

Air hissed out between the gaps in Sunset’s teeth. She was the one that needed sleep. What she didn’t need was some poltergeist equine mocking her while looking comfy on the couch. “I’m too old for this crap.” Growling, Sunset picked herself up and brushed off the salad dressing splattered over her leg. “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m getting some sleep, you hear me?!”

She was shouting by the time she reached the end of her statement. The pony snored some more on her sofa.

Incensed, grinding her teeth, hands clawing at the nothing, Sunset glared at the little apparition hard enough to make her eyes hurt. It continued to ignore her and her anger. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, Sunset turned on her heel and walked herself shakily into her bathroom, the door slamming closed behind her.

Then the lock clicked.

Sometime later, the lock clicked again and a much calmer, slightly damp, Sunset emerged from her bathroom. Warm, humid air misted out into the rest of her apartment, clinging to her limp hair and trailing off the sleeves of her PJs. Sunset stopped just inside her sleeping area, hand still on the knob as she looked around for evidence of her pink poltergeist. The living room was empty, the TV off, her mess from the spilled salad gone, and the dishwasher just starting to cycle on.

“At least it cleans up afterward…” Sunset mumbled, scanning her tiny home, “that’s better than most roommates.”

She was just starting to smile when movement drew her eyes over to the corner between her and her bed where her dresser stood. The top drawer, her underwear drawer specifically, jittered and rattled softly for a second before a tiny horse head popped out of it. Sunset blinked.

The little ghostie blinked back at her, adjusting the sports bra around its neck that it was wearing as a cloak.

“Of course.”

Sunset sighed, all the fight drained out of her at this point. She set her jaw and snapped her fingers, pointing at her sports bra, brows knit. “Put. It. Back.” All she got in response was a whiney, a snort, and a toss of bouncy mane. “I know you can understand me. I said put that back. I kind of need it.” Sunset gestured vaguely at her chest.

The pink thing blinked at her, tilting its head and flicking an ear.

“Don’t try to be cute.”

It neighed at her.

Grinding her teeth, Sunset sighed again, more forcefully this time. She opened her mouth to rebut, but she knew in her heart of hearts nothing she could say would change things. Either the pony thing understood her and didn’t care, or it legitimately didn’t understand the words coming out of her mouth. “Wait.” Sunset held her mouth open and tilted her head, summoning up memories of another life lived in another world. It felt supremely weird, divorcing meaning from words until they were just sounds and then trying to retranslate them back into what still sounded like words—in her mind—but must sound like horse noises in this world.

What if...what if I just did...would a..? Sunset’s brows knit harder as she mentally undid and rewired her speech centers. She was a horse, Celestia damn it! She should be able to talk Equish if she really tried! “Nei..neigggh? Pplbbt.” She snorted, swishing her hips to flick a nonexistent tail in clear-as-crystal body language. She held up one hand, mimicking ear movements in as close an approximation she was able. “Grreeeph-neg’h fumph!”

The little pony in her panties froze, it’s already freakishly large eyes getting wider. It stared back at her in rapt fascination, mouth slack in surprise.

Sunset stamped one foot on the floor three times, toes curing and gripping at the carpet. She blew air out, puffing out her cheeks and letting her lips flap loosely. “Gremna’hmaaneh.” She gagged and hocked spit to form a question. Then, to show she was asking nicely, Sunset pulled her lips back and open as much she could and clicked her teeth together. For a moment, it seemed she’d succeeded in communicating with the horse-like thing in her dresser drawer. It was smiling at her. It looked happy, maybe a little amused by her accent, its little hooves going up to undo her bra from its neck.

Then the next thing she knew, the pony ghost was starring at her in abject disgust. Its pupils shrank down to dots. Its ears fell back in horror. It was frowning so hard, the edge of it’s mouth somehow escaped the confines of its muzzle to hang down like jowls. Her bra came off the pony’s throat, tossed unceremoniously back in with the others. Then the pony climbed out of the drawer, slamming it shut before bounding to the bed, then the floor. The whole time it never made a sound, it just looked grossed out and insulted down to its soul.

Sunset watched the little beastie walk indignantly across her apartment to the front door. Watched it stand on its hindhooves and open the door. Watched it take out a spare key from its mane, lock the door on it’s way out. Watched it produce a wide brimmed hat and a proportionally small briefcase from its tail. She watched it until the door slammed behind it and she was left alone in her bedroom and pajamas covered in happy little ducks.

“Was it something I said?”

The Bean Based Chapter

Author's Note

If this makes no sense to you, congrats! You've managed to stay pure from Beanis, the bean paste marital aid that's farm-to-bedroom fresh! Wanna get dirty? Head over to the BCU group and get yo eyeballs checked!

Already dirty with the smell of legumes? Cool! This story is canon-adjacent to the main Beanis continuity, and is meant to give the Pinkie cameo in my first beanis fic some sort of context. It also is meant to nudge Sunset's character along her running arc and return to the beany folds.

The Bean Based Chapter

The mid-afternoon quiet of Sunset Shimmer’s one bedroom—one room, really, plus a big bathroom and a closet-sized kitchen ‘nook’—home was rudely, violently, shattered when the door got kicked open. Standing in the doorframe, multiple plastic grocery bags hanging from her arms and breathing rather hard, was Sunset Shimmer.

“I’ve always wanted to do that!” She lifted one booted foot, an angry smirk playing across her face. “Thank Celestia for steel toes! AAAaaarrrgg!” Sunset slammed down the boot back to the floor and tromped loudly into the kitchen nook, bags swishing and swaying like a dozen produce-filled wrecking balls. “Ggggrrraaggg!”

Sunset dropped the bags in a heap on the little table with its two mismatched chairs and beat up old laptop. She roared at the ceiling, pulling out tomatoes on the vine and red onions the size of her fists. Fresh wet Iceberg lettuce came out next. It was joined by a couple of limes and an enormous Hass avocado. Green and red peppers, plus a disturbing amount of jalapenos, fell from the grocery sacks Sunset ripped away and threw vaguely toward the trashcan in the corner. The last bag she upended unceremoniously with the primal scream of a hunter falling upon her prey. Dairy products littered the mix of vegetables, sour cream and three kinds of grated cheeses, the bags flopping haphazardly, and on top of it all a small jar of store brand salsa.

“Aaahhh! Did I forget the chips?!”

Sunset spun on her heels and marched, fuming and bowlegged over to the pantry door and threw it open. Inside lay many sundry goods, canned food and other home supplies. Right on the middle shelf, however, sat a pristine, unopened, bag of crispy...crunchy...flour tortilla chips. A second later the chips were sailing through the air over Sunset’s shoulder to join the pile of food stuffs on the table. The pantry door slammed shut and Sunset stomped hard up to the counter and started opening drawers left and right until she found what she was looking for: a knife long enough to be classified as a short sword. Then she opened up the dishwasher and gently pulled out the top rack. On said rack was a pony with pink fur and pinker curly hair rolled up like a snoozing cat-ball. Sunset booped it on the nose with her finger.

Sunset grinned manically, knife in one hand as she slipped a sticky, phallic shaped stack of magically infused beans from her vest jacket pocket. “Wake up loser, we’re making nachos!”

The pony blinked huge, sleepy, blue eyes, glancing from the knife to the beanis in exaggerated slow motion.

“Also I need the cutting board.” Sunset pulled out the lower rack and extracted a wide, flat board of microbially resistant plastic, stomping back over to the table with her hands full. The cutting board hit the table with a bang. The beanis was underhand tossed at the fridge, its suction-cup base keeping it there to wobble between the magnets and sticky notes. Then the knife came down, snicker-snack, separating tangy tomato flesh from the vine. She threw the stalk away and went to town on the tomatoes. Her blade work was fast, guided by muscle memory developed under the lights of the Blood Dome. She was more of a blunt force trauma type of girl, favoring her bat, so her chopping wasn’t chef-levels precise. But it was quick, reducing the lumpy, tangy spheres to diced piles of chunks.

Still moving with groggy slowness, the pony in the dishwasher slurmed down from the racks to the floor, hoofing a wide berth around the refrigerator until she reached the table. The pink little thing sat down on its rump at Sunset’s feet, knickering softly, one eyebrow raised.

“Nope!” Sunset grinned and swept the chunks aside, stabbing an onion next and making short work of the outer layers and revealing the glistening innards.

The tiny pony coughed, both eyes going wide. She neighed and gasped, bouncing to her hooves again and looking across the little nook at the still bobbing bean based marital aid. She pointed one hooftip at it, flapping her ears back and forth.

“What?” Sunset’s hawing slowed just a touch, the onion’s wet insides spreading out in a loose pile of bits and pieces. Her eyes watered, but she looked down at the pony with an annoyed frown. “No! That’s part of lunch, not for after.” Sunset slammed the last large-ish hunk of onion with her knife, sweeping the remains into the same pile with the tomatoes. Jalapenos replaced it on the cutting board, Sunset’s frown slowly unknotting until her expression was carefully calm. “This is self care, Sunset. Let the anger go. Push it out into the world and let in cool air in its place.”

She took a deep breath, blinking away the proto-tears forming in her eyes. She let it out in a long whoosh, the rhythmic chopping starting up once more. She looked back down at the confused pony at her feet when it knickered and snorted. “It’s a long story. The essentials are that my friends are frequently wack-a-doos with more libido than sense, Twilight made a bunch of those things and got hyperwealthy off it, then she went the extra mile and started some convoluted scheme to rise to world domination.”

More horse noises came from her shins.

“No, in a sort of ‘benevolent overlord' kind of way. It’s disturbing, but also a little cute, and the real problem is,” Sunset shook her head ruefully, watching her fingers gently press more veggies into her personal woodchopper, “that when I think about it on a meta-scale...it’s the same thing I tried to do. Just more lewd, I guess.

“There’s some questions about her real intentions, what with Midnight still being a part of the Twi-picture. And there have been multiple time travelers coming back to stop things. There’s a cult that’s sort of involved, though I’m honestly a little fuzzy on that aspect of this madness.” Sunset stopped chopping and turned back to the cabinets, pulling out several bowls and large platters. She ripped open the chips and poured the whole thing out into the biggest mixing bowl she could find. “There have been a lot of things that have happened which I am not okay with. Kinda sent me off the deep end, really. Wound up in Fiji for a while, fighting people in a blood sport. I was kinda sickeningly good at hurting people. I beat the tar out of Flash.”

The pony took a step back away from Sunset, her muzzle hanging open and pupils turned to dots. She snorted, stomping a back hoof against the kitchen linoleum, her tail shaking like a minor earthquake.

“Yeah...you’re right, that wasn’t nice of me.” Sunset paused, bowl of chips still in her hands, letting her words sink into her own flesh like thorns. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I wasn’t processing things in a healthy way. Which isn’t an excuse. It’s just the truth. And it took a near-death experience at the bottom of the sea to make that clear to me. But I promised I wasn’t going to run away again. Which...well...this is sort of running away, but I fully intend to go back and be with my friends and start again at trying to be my best self, you know?”

With a sigh, the bowl plopped onto the table to accept the dump of vegetable matter from the cutting board. Sunset opened the lettuce and pulled it apart with her hands, licking her lips to keep her drool from dripping into the mix. “I just needed to come to a place that was uncontaminated by this whole beanis thing. My version of Equestria isn’t even safe from it now.”

The pony sat back on its haunches, glancing over at the beanis stuck to the fridge door.

“Don’t worry, that’s one of the older models. It’s just beans and a bit of magic. No eJaculet, no frills or weird extra functions. It’s not even bluetoothed. After I’m done with it, there won’t be anything left to stain this place.” Sunset smirked, feeling more like her old self than ever. “Beanis dies here, and I’m taking back nachos. Open the cheese, filly, and let’s do this up right. I’m feeling like having a nacho-party-for-two!”

The pink pony broke into a beatific ear-to-ear smile like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. With a loud bark of equine laughter, it reared up, kicking it’s hooves. Then it jumped from the floor to the table, a blur of dairy products flying through the air a split second later. Sunset snrked and yanked the beanis off the fridge, joining the pony in a flurry of delicious food prep. The magic flowing through the beans resisted the blade of her cleaver with about as much strength as plastic wrap. Once she broke the bonds with cold, hard, surgical steel though, the whole thing lost cohesion. A minute later, bean paste topped a bowl of chips, sour cream, cheese, guac, and enough roughage to please both current and former herbivores.

It transferred from the kitchen to what passed for the living room, settling on the low coffee table while Sunset and pink pony poltergeist crashed down on the couch. Remote in hand, finger on the buttons, the real action started on the TV, Sunset’s favorite shows playing from her DVR. By the time the first episode was done, the nachos were half gone and she felt both full and relaxed. Content, even. It was a good feeling. Two episodes later and they were fishing out the last of the chips, loading each one down to the point of snapping under the weight of the remaining toppings.

“And that’s how I got here!” Sunset chuckled, brushing crumbs off her chest and into the couch cushions. That would be a problem the local Sunset could deal with later. The itty-bitty horse next to her was also brushing crumbs off her swollen belly. The nacho bowl between them was all but empty. As good as she felt, it was about time to pack up. “Nifty little trick, honestly. Find the right portal at the right time and the equestria or humanlandia you go to is just a tiny bit different. Do it enough and before you know it, you’re in an alternate dimension that’s never heard of beanis and never will either. All I got to do is retrace my interdimensional steps and blamo! Back home I go. Same as you.”

Sunset burped, loudly. She smacked her lips, hitting the remote to stop the playback, and looked over into the kitchen area. It was a mess in every meaning of the phrase. It’d be a real dick move to leave that for her counterpart, but at the same time...she really didn’t want to do the alternate version of her dishes. She looked at her companion, eyebrow cocked. The tiny pony stuffed the last hoofful of toppings and damp chip bits into its mouth and chewed away at it for a long moment before following her gaze. It sighed, a little thing, full of an all-too-familiar emotion: resignation. But when it turned back her way, it was with a genuine smile. A little hoof reached over and patted her hand.

“Thanks, Pinkie. You’re a true bro.” Sunset laughed and sat up with some effort and more burping. “I really appreciate it. The Sunset that actually lives here will too.” With a grin, she held up her fist, knuckles out toward Pinkie Pie. “Oh, and if you find your way back into my bra drawer, feel free to snag a pair. I got plenty and more than enough in the bank to replace them.”

Pinkie copied her, bumping her hoof against Sunset’s fist above the nacho bowl. They both blew raspberries, pulling back and wiggling their wrists. With another whinny, the pink one sprang up and grabbed the bowl in her teeth to trot back into kitchen nook. She dumped the leftovers into the garbage disposal, flicking her tail out to turn on the tap in the sink. She was going to need to pre-wash everything before it could go in the washer itself. By the time the sink was full, Pinkie heard the other Sunset leave, cursing out-of-character as she tried to get the door to close right behind her. Pinkie was going to need a screwdriver and some wood glue too.

Sunset groaned, kicking off her geta sandals and wiggling her toes. The space between her big toe and the rest felt raw and sore and her arches felt collapsed. It was part of her uniform for her new job as a hostess at the Sushi Shack, but they were killing her after just one shift. The chopsticks in her hair weren’t all that great either, but her scalp felt a heck lot better than her feet. It was also kind of cute, so she couldn’t complain that hard. Plus a paycheck at the end of the month would be a very nice bonus.

She fished her keys out of her pocket and slipped one into the knob lock. Then she turned. The knob didn’t. It rattled, and there was an unhealthy metallic grinding noise. “The hell?” She tugged on the door again, the handle releasing and shifting in her grip a bit. Her door swung open at a slant it didn’t have when she’d left that morning. Inside her apartment was spotless-er than when she’d left.

“Okay...what is going on? Am I about to find more bra-art, or some other crap?” Sunset took a careful step forward, raising her arms up defensively at her sides. Nothing moved. Everything was clean, fresh, and pristine. Absolutely nothing was pink or horse-like.

Frankly, it was creepy as all get out.

“Alrightyyyy…” Sunset let out her breath slowly, running her fingers through her hair, pulling the chopsticks loose in the process. She paced over to her kitchen table, setting down her clutch and pulling crumpled order sheets from inside her shirt. She tossed them into the trash, freezing when she saw a lot of cast off veggies mixed in with the paper and other detritus of her life. She swallowed hard. “Oh sweet Celestia...now it’s cooking and cleaning up while I’m gone?! It’s either evolving, or it’s not a ghost, and instead it’s a roommate...that doesn’t help out on rent...but does clean up after themselves…”

Sunset bit her lip, rolling it between her teeth as she spun around in a lazy circle, taking in everything. “Should I be thankful or horrified? I really should ask Twilight about this.” She sighed, the weight of the day coming down on her all over again. This was a task for another day. A question for future Sunset to parse. Right now she just wanted off her feet and to watch the shows she’d taped. Hunched, barely lifting her heels, Sunset shuffled over to her couch and let gravity handle the rest. Her butt hit the cushions with a soft crunch and a dab of cold wetness right on her brown eye that immediately seeped through her shorts.

“Aaarhh!” Rolling onto one hip, she reached in between herself and formerly comfortable sitting, pulling out a lent and bean paste covered tortilla chip. “Okay, exneigh on the thankful feeling. We’re going straight to horrified.” With a huff, Sunset righted herself, shaking in involuntary disgust at the feeling betwix her cheeks. At least there was binge watching to wipe her mind clean, right? She called up her menu, scrolling to her favorite show and finding the first few episodes marked ‘watched.’ Her lips in a tight line that was the fury side of a frown, Sunset glanced back at the offending chip. “If this keeps up, I’m going to have to plan a trip to Fiji for a week...it’s getting to me, man…”