Sunset Shimmer's Guide to Pissing Off Your In-Laws
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Sunset Shimmer's Guide to Pissing Off Your In-Laws
Sunset Shimmer's Guide to Pissing Off Your In-Laws
Bulbous multicolored blobs and abstract shapes floated past Sunset’s head as she floated through the darkness. But soon, a familiar magic tingled over her skin—like static from a TV screen, stiffening the peach fuzz on her arms—and a new world came into focus: neverending stars and a dusty landscape. The Earth floated high above her head.
Standing on the surface of the Moon, Sunset took a deep breath.
The tickle of skin-on-skin pulled Sunset out of her reverie.
“Do you like it?” Twilight asked, squeezing Sunset’s hand. “I spent hours studying photos of the Moon.”
“It’s amazing,” Sunset said with a nod. She glanced around with wide eyes, taking in every inch of the satellite’s brutal beauty. “Definitely better than the last place I suggested.”
“Oh, don’t say that. I enjoyed the Demolition Derby! It was...” Twilight’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “Different.”
Letting out a grunt, Sunset fell to her rump. She hit the hard moonrock painlessly. Twilight joined a moment later, smoothing out her skirt and leaning against Sunset. She rested her head on Sunset’s shoulder, while Sunset pulled her close.
The two held each other tight, sharing their warmth and watching the Earth spin slowly above them. Sunset closed her eyes and savored the silence; but for Twilight’s soft breathing, she heard no noise whatsoever. No people screaming, or cars honking, or televisions blaring. Just her and Twilight.
Shooting stars passed overhead, and Sunset laughed. “Nice touch,” she said, offering Twilight a peck on the cheek.
Blushing, Twilight looked up at her. She opened her mouth, and out came the screech of a ringing cell phone.
Sunset jumped, and the white landscape dissolved into darkness. The tingling magic on her skin vanished, and she snapped back into reality: lying in bed with her arms wrapped around Twilight. She let go and recoiled straight into a wall. “Aaugh!”
Twilight yelped and flailed her arms, nearly falling out of bed. She snatched her phone off the nightstand and mashed the buttons until it went silent.
Mumbling curses, Sunset sat up and took off her pendant. “I thought we had agreed to put our phones on silent while we’re mind-melding? I can’t project myself into your head when I’ve got a friggin’ machine screaming in my ear.”
“I know, I know,” Twilight said through a sigh. “But I can’t just turn my phone off. What if there’s an emergency?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” sputtered Twilight. “There could be a tornado, or a tsunami, or a giant meteor...”
Sunset raised a brow.
“...Alright, maybe not one of those, but you never know,” Twilight said with a tiny smile. But that smile soon faded when she glanced down at the screen of her phone. “Or, it could be a call from my mom—oh goddess, it’s already nine o’clock?”
Sunset flinched. That made three nights in a row that Twilight had missed her curfew hanging out at Sunset’s apartment. Three months ago, Twilight would have rather died than been late getting home; nowadays, her curfew seemed more like a suggestion than a rule.
Balancing her phone between her ear and her shoulder, Twilight grabbed her jacket off a chair. “Hi, Mom,” she said after a moment. “I—”
Both girls cringed at the muffled roar that came from the speaker. Twilight had to hold the phone away from her head until it subsided. Sunset just barely caught her own name followed by the word “dangerous” before Twilight brought the phone back to her ear.
“I know I’m late, Mom. I’m sorry.” Twilight closed her eyes and waited. “Yes, Mom—Of course, Mom—Yes, I’m at Sunset’s—We were, you know, studying,” she said, glancing over at Sunset. “No, she’s not failing.”
Sunset tried to smile, but it felt weak—even without hearing it, she knew every word Twilight’s Mom was saying about her. They were the same words she said every time she called. The same insults she and her husband shared with Twilight every night at the dinner table.
“I’ll be home in just a little while, Mom,” Twilight said. “I left ten minutes ago. I’m waiting at the bus stop right now—I’ll be safe—I love you too. Bye.” She hung up.
“So,” Sunset said, sitting up against the wall. “She thinks I’m an idiot now, too?”
“Nobody thinks you’re an idiot.” Twilight walked back over and sat down next to Sunset. “Don’t mind my mom; she’s just stressed, what with the holidays coming up.”
“Aren’t the holidays supposed to be about peace and love?” Sunset asked.
Twilight smiled. “Maybe when you’re a teenage girl with no real responsibilities. Call me back when you’ve got a load of hungry family members to feed and entertain.”
Sunset scoffed. “I’ve got responsibilities.”
“Putting on your pants in the morning doesn’t count,” said Twilight, patting Sunset’s leg. She giggled and stood back up.
“See you tomorrow?” Sunset asked.
“I don’t think so.” Twilight picked up her bag and slung it over a shoulder. “I told you, we’ve got a bunch of people coming over for Thanksgiving tomorrow. My mom’s going to have me spending the whole morning cleaning, and I’ll be with my family for the rest of the day.” She paused, then said, “Well, minus my brother. He’s off at his fiancée’s house. Which is just stressing out my parents even more...”
“Oh, right, Thanksgiving. I forgot that was tomorrow.”
“You forgot? Why did you think we have the week off?”
Sunset shrugged. “Principal Celestia got sick of looking at us? I dunno, we don’t have Thanksgiving in Equestria. I’ve never really paid attention to it.”
“That’s too bad. It’s a nice little holiday!” said Twilight. “You don’t have the stress of buying presents like Hearth’s Warming, or the danger of your house being egged like Nightmare Night. It’s all about just eating good food and spending time with your family.”
The two girls shared a glance. Standing in the center of Sunset’s tiny one-room apartment, a look of realization grew on Twilight’s face.
“Sounds nice,” Sunset said, her expression unchanging.
“Yeah.” Twilight looked away for a moment before asking, “Well, what are you going to do tomorrow instead? Will you be alright?”
Sunset waved her off. “I’ll be fine. I’ve survived three Thanksgivings alone before, and I can survive another. I’ll probably just splurge on an extra large pizza for myself.”
At that, Twilight went quiet and put on her Thinking Stare—brows furrowed, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. “Or,” she said after a moment, “if you wanted, you could come have dinner at my house.”
Sunset blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious,” Twilight said. A grin spread over her lips, and she rushed forward to grab Sunset’s hand. “Come over for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow! We’ve already got a load of people coming over, and with my brother gone, we’ve got a free seat at the table.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” Sunset said, taking her hand back. “Your parents already hate me. I don’t need to give them any more reasons by ruining their holiday.”
“Come on, my parents don’t hate you!” Twilight said. “They just have, y’know... reservations about us dating.”
“Your dad is, like, ninety-nine percent sure I’m a drug dealer.”
“Ninety-nine percent is a bit high.”
Sunset rolled her eyes, but then put on a smile. “Don’t worry about me, Twi. I’ll be fine here by myself.”
“I’m not just doing this for your benefit,” said Twilight. “Spending time with my family is nice and all, but it gets boring quick. There’s never anyone else my age there! Even Spike is gone—my parents are having me send him to Fluttershy’s for the night. All I ever do is chase my little cousins around the house, or listen to my grandma snore. This is my first year sitting with the rest of the adults, and it’d be nice to have someone there with me.
“And besides,” she added, “if you’re really so worried about what my parents think of you, isn’t this your chance to impress them? To prove that you aren’t some sort of delinquent?”
“I guess,” Sunset said. She shook her head. “I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”
Twilight clasped her hands. “If you come over, I’ll go with you to see that movie that just came out.”
Sunset’s eyes lit up. “Revenge of the Brain Splitters?”
Twilight cringed—but nodded.
“Alright,” Sunset said. “I’ll come over tomorrow.”
“Yes!” Twilight cheered, pumping a fist. She jumped forward and kissed Sunset. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
“This food just better be as good as you say it is,” Sunset said. “Are there any, like, ancient Thanksgiving rituals I need to know about?”
“I don’t think so,” Twilight said, tapping her chin. “Do you know how to say Grace?”
“Grace,” said Sunset.
Silence. Twilight frowned.
Sunset threw out her arms. “C’mon, that was the funniest joke I’ve ever told.”
Twilight’s frown evolved into a grimace.
“I swear, this dimension has no sense of humor,” Sunset grumbled. “But yeah, I think I’ve seen people do it on TV. I don’t really know the words or anything, though.”
“Someone else will say it. Just clasp your hands and bow your head,” Twilight said. “You’ll be fine.”
Twilight’s phone rang again and both girls jumped. Stuffing it away in her pocket, Twilight jumped up and walked to the door. “I’ll text you the time to come over,” she said. “See you tomorrow!”
Sunset waved goodbye, but then stopped and called, “Wait, Twi!”
“Yeah?”
Sunset grinned. “That was a nice fantasy you came up with. We should visit the Moon again sometime.”
Twilight’s cheeks pinkened. “Thank you. You didn’t think the shooting stars were cheesy?”
“They were,” Sunset said. She shrugged. “But sometimes cheesy is nice.”
A simper on her lips, Twilight murmured, “I knew you were gonna say that.” She walked out.
Sunset lifted her head up high and listened to the sound of Twilight’s footsteps fading away. Once the apartment went totally silent, she crashed down onto the bed and stretched out her limbs, basking in the soft scent of lavender that covered her pillow.
At least, until her stomach grumbled.
She didn’t hesitate to grab her phone. “Might as well splurge on that extra large pizza tonight, then...”
With the autumn night air nipping at her nose, Sunset rounded the corner to Twilight’s street. She cruised down to the end of the block and, as quietly as she could, pulled into Twilight’s driveway. Cars of all shapes and sizes already filled most of the space.
Sunset’s shaking hands didn’t help her handling much. As she hopped off her bike and glanced toward Twilight’s house—silhouetted by the moon, it looked like a haunted mansion—her heart pounded as fast as it did when she faced down any demon. At least then she had her magic; not even superpowered rainbow lasers could help her here, she feared.
She popped open her motorcycle’s trunk box and exchanged her helmet for a bundle of bubble wrap, which she then unwrapped to retrieve a intricately designed bottle of red wine. She’d seen adults do this on TV, bring wine as a gift during the holidays. But with absolutely no knowledge about wine, she’d had to consult Rarity for help, who just went to her parents’ wine cellar and plucked out the most expensive bottle they had.
“One sip of this,” Rarity had said, “and Twilight’s parents will be begging you to marry their daughter.”
We’ll see about that, Sunset thought, trudging up the walkway to their door. She resisted the urge to just start chugging it right there.
Sunset rarely ever went to Twilight’s house, and when she did, she stayed in either Twilight’s bedroom or her garage lab. But now Sunset was walking right into the lion’s den.
She stopped at the front door, closed her eyes, and cracked her neck. “Let’s do this,” she said, and hit the doorbell before her nerves could take control.
The bell echoed, and within a second Sunset heard a familiar voice: “I’ll get it!” The door swung open a moment later. Twilight smiled wide. “I was starting to worry that you weren’t gonna come.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Sunset. She stepped inside and the two shared a kiss. “You wouldn’t believe the traffic—”
Sunset stopped short, her eyes caught on Twilight’s body. She wore a proper blue dress, matching blue heels, and sparkling earrings in the shape of crescent moons. She had gloss on her lips, and from her skin wafted strawberry perfume.
Noticing her stare, Twilight did a little curtsy. “Do you like the dress? My mom got it for me for my birthday.”
Sunset frowned. “Was I supposed to dress up?”
“Huh?” Twilight glanced down at Sunset’s outfit—ripped jeans, leather jacket, combat boots—and gaped. “Oh, um...”
“I was supposed to dress up.” Sunset looked over Twilight’s shoulder into the living room and saw a whole bunch of people, all just as well-dressed as Twilight. “You didn’t tell me I was supposed to dress up!"
“I thought you knew!”
“What part of ‘are there any ancient rituals I need to know about’ did you not understand?”
“Putting on nice clothes is not an ancient ritual,” Twilight said in a hiss. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “It’s okay, just... deep breath. No one will care about the clothes. That being said, my parents don’t know I invited you and—”
“You didn’t tell them?” Sunset asked, nearly dropping the bottle of wine.
Twilight held her hands up defensively. “I was going to! I just never got around to it. I didn’t want to make them even more stressed.”
“So I’m crashing their Thanksgiving dinner.”
“No, no,” Twilight said. She wrung her hands. “Think of it more like, uh... making a surprise appearance!”
Chugging the wine was growing more and more appealing.
“Twilight, honey?” Twilight’s dad, Night Light, stepped into the foyer. “Who was at the—”
Everyone froze. Sunset stared at Night Light. He stared back at her. Twilight stopped breathing.
“Oh.” Night Light narrowed his eyes. “Sunset.”
Sunset waved with the strength of a coma patient. “Hi.” Any bit of confidence she still held evaporated as Night Light stared at her combat boots.
“Dad,” Twilight said, stepping between the two as if they were about to break into fisticuffs, “I invited Sunset over for dinner. Her family is... out of town, so I figured she could join ours for the night.”
“I brought wine!” Sunset spluttered, holding out the bottle. “For you, I mean. Not me. I’m not an alcoholic.”
You’re smooth as silk, Sunset.
Night Light stayed silent as he took the bottle—but as he read the label, he glanced up and asked, “Aren’t you underage? How did you—”
Sunset saw the question coming. “I didn’t steal it.”
Silence reclaimed them and the staring contest resumed. Twilight sighed and muttered, “Oh, goddess.”
“Sunset, why don’t you head into the living room,” Night Light said, gesturing to the room full of people behind Sunset. He drew close to his daughter and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Twilight, could we talk for a minute?” He pulled Twilight in the other direction before she could protest.
Now alone and empty-handed, Sunset stuffed her hands into her pockets. She trudged into the living room with her head down.
Sunset crept over to an empty couch, taking care to keep as quiet as she could. Luckily, she managed to get by mostly unnoticed, albeit for a few errant glances at her combat boots.
Sinking into a floral-patterned cushion, Sunset surveyed the room. Across the room, a bundle of middle-aged men and women sat huddled together, drinking and talking. Near them, an elderly woman snoozed, her head slumped and drool covering her wrinkled lips—Grandma Sparkle, assumed Sunset. Every few moments two small children, a boy and a girl, would sprint through the room; they looked like twins.
Without Twilight, Sunset felt like a stranger in a strange land. She sat back and prayed that Twilight wasn’t having her ears screamed off.
Her thoughts turned to internal screaming, however, when a new figure strutted into the room: Twilight Velvet, carrying a tray of cheese and crackers, and wearing a smile so rigid that it looked like it had been snipped from a magazine. Sunset sank even deeper into the couch and prayed that she might regrow her unicorn horn, if only to teleport far, far away.
“How’s everyone doing?” Velvet asked the group of drinking adults as she scent down the tray. They all murmured in approval, and she let out the stiffest giggle. “Glad to hear it. Dinner will be ready in just a little while, so I hope you’re all hungry!” She turned around and walked over to Grandma Sparkle, then in almost a shout, said, “Mother, do you need a pillow? Because I can—”
Velvet’s eyes flicked up for a microsecond—just enough time to meet Sunset’s.
Sunset flinched like she had been struck and braced herself for the incoming awkward silence.
“Sunset,” Velvet said immediately, “what are you doing here?”
Right into it, then.
Sunset didn’t bother to wave this time. “Twilight invited me.”
“She didn’t tell us.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Sunset. “I think she was nervous.”
Velvet gave the exact same practiced giggle she had given just a minute beforehand. “Why would Twilight ever be nervous?”
Because of you?
“I dunno,” Sunset said, shrugging. “Twilight gets nervous sometimes for weird reasons. You know how she is.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Velvet, shaking her head. Still wearing that awful smile, she placed a hand on her heart and said, “My daughter doesn’t get nervous around me. Maybe when she’s with you, but not me.”
A fire sparked in Sunset’s chest, but she took a long breath and snuffed it out. “Listen, Mrs. Sparkle,” she said, picking her words as carefully as a bomb squad picks the blue wire. “I know we haven’t always gotten along in the past. I know that you don’t like the way I dress, or my motorcycle, or how much time Twilight spends at my place. I get it. But can we agree to forget about all that, just for tonight? Y’know, for Twilight’s sake?”
Velvet stayed silent for a moment, lips pursed, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed—then turned up her nose and said, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sunset sighed. “Right.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Velvet said as she walked to the doorway. “I didn’t know you were coming, so I suppose I’ll just have to go make more food.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” said Sunset, reaching out a hand, but Velvet was already gone. Sunset flopped back into the couch and scowled. “So much for the holiday spirit.”
A minute later, Twilight walked into the room, luckily still in possession of both her ears. Yet, Sunset couldn’t help but focus in on the frown draped across Twilight’s lips.
“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked as Twilight sat down next to her.
“Nothing, nothing,” Twilight said, putting on a small smile. “Don’t worry.”
“Was your dad upset?”
“A bit.” Twilight wrung her hands. “But it’s okay, really. He was just caught off-guard by you showing up. Luckily, Mom still doesn’t know you’re here, which means we have a chance to better control the conditions of you meeting her—”
“Too late,” Sunset said, crossing her arms. “We already had a bit of a showdown.”
Twilight grimaced. “Oh, jeez...”
Sunset’s frown just grew deeper at that. She wanted to hold Twilight, to kiss her, to do something to make her less flustered—but something in the back of Sunset’s mind told her that as long as she stuck around, Twilight would just get in even more trouble.
But before Sunset could open her mouth, Twilight sat up straighter and said, “This is okay, no need to worry. The important thing is that you’re here, we’re together, and soon it’ll be time to eat.”
That got a laugh out of Sunset. “Sounds good,” she said, pushing away the errant thought.
“Yeah.” Twilight closed her eyes and put on a dreamy smile. “Did I tell you? This is going to be my first year sitting at the Grown Ups’ table. I’m so excited!”
“Yeah, you mentioned it.” Sunset snickered. “Sounds like a real special place.”
“Oh, hush.” Twilight grabbed Sunset’s hand and stood up. “C’mon. I wanna introduce you to the rest of my family.”
Sunset’s heart rate picked up, but she still let Twilight drag her off the couch. As they approached the gaggle of well-dressed adults sitting across the room, Sunset did her best to stand up straight and keep her chin up—even as they all moved like a hivemind, turning as one to stare at her. What she lacked in clothing, she figured, could be made up for in attitude.
But not even Sunset, former student of a literal princess, could compare to the Sparkle family when it came to being prim and proper. With Twilight as her guide, Sunset found herself thrust into an ocean of fancy names and occupations: Uncle Blue Moon the astronomer, Aunt North Star the CEO, Cousin Primrose the scholar—Sunset lost track three introductions in. With every hearty handshake, Sunset became more and more mesmerized by their practiced accents. While she stammered over her words—Why is it so damn hard to just say ‘Hi, I’m Sunset Shimmer, Twilight’s girlfriend?’—Twilight’s family didn’t let a single syllable fall out of place. From their tailored outfits to their posh accents, Sunset felt like a tramp standing next to them.
Still, they greeted Sunset with smiles and laughter. Maybe Twi’s family isn’t so bad...
She managed to shake the nervousness off—just in time to come face-to-face with a woman wearing so much jewelry that she looked like an art exhibit. Sunset had to squint just to look at her.
“Aunt Akoya,” Twilight said, “this is Sunset Shimmer.”
Sunset smiled and held out her hand—but Akoya just stared at it as if it were a dead rat. “Sunset Shimmer?” she repeated. “The mind-reader?”
“Mind-melding, really,” Sunset corrected instinctively. Rainbow always made the same mistake.
The laughter in the room died down. Sunset felt her hackles pricking up as the realization of what was said washed over her.
Akoya turned to Twilight. “And she’s the one who gave you those... abilities?”
“Mom!” hissed Cousin Primrose. “Uncle Night Light said we’re not supposed to talk about that!”
Sunset couldn’t hold down her glare as she whipped her head to look at Twilight. She had told...?
For her part, Twilight looked horrified, like someone had just shouted a slur at her from a speeding car.
“Yes, dear,” said one of Twilight’s stupidly named uncles. “Let’s not bring up that magic nonsense.”
“I was just asking,” Akoya intoned, “because Night Light mentioned that she can read minds just by touching their skin.”
Face heating up, Sunset flicked her eyes around, watching everyone look down at their hands.
Akoya looked her in the eye. “Is that true?”
“I...” Sunset took a breath, swallowed—stalling for as long as she could before having to splutter out, “Yeah, it’s true, but I didn’t—”
“I think I hear my mom calling us,” Twilight said, wearing the world’s toothiest grin. She locked Sunset’s hand in a vice grip and pulled her away from the leering crowd. “Coming, Mom!”
Sunset let Twilight haul her out of the living room and back into the foyer from whence she came. But just as she half-expected Twilight to throw open the door and kick her out, Twilight spun on her heel and led Sunset up the stairs.
As soon as they hit the second floor, Sunset wrested her arm back and took the lead. She pushed her way past Twilight and very nearly punched open the door to Twilight’s bedroom.
“You told your parents about me,” Sunset said, stomping inside. “No wonder they don’t trust me. They think I’m a friggin’ witch!”
Twilight flinched as she closed the door behind them. “Sorry. Last week my mom walked in on me levitating a load of books across the room. She was terrified, and basically interrogated me about everything that’s been happened recently—and about you.”
“And you just told her everything?”
“You wanted me to lie to them?” Twilight asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Yes, I wanted you to lie!” Sunset exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. “All the other girls do! I lied to everyone for three years!”
“I don’t like lying,” Twilight said quietly. “Especially not to my parents.”
Sunset snorted. “Right. Did you tell them I’m an alien, too?”
“You’re not an alien,” Twilight said. “And besides, it shouldn’t matter where you come from, or what magic you have. None of that makes you a bad person.”
“Yeah, it shouldn’t matter, but it does, Twi.” Sunset touched her necklace. “That’s why I don’t use my magic in public. I hide it—and so do you! You’re not even wearing your pendant!”
Twilight scowled. “You didn’t hide it very well downstairs.”
“I was put on the spot!”
“So was I!” Twilight shouted back, tearing up. “I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen. My mom walked in on me, and I had no idea that my parents would tell anyone else. Please believe me.”
Sunset’s face still burned, her heart still raced—but hearing the desperation and distress in Twilight’s voice, Sunset couldn’t stay mad. Unclenching her hands, she wrapped her arms around Twilight. With a sniffle, Twilight rested her head on Sunset’s shoulder, and the two stood like that for a few moments, rocking back and forth in some lethargic version of waltz.
“It’s fine,” Sunset said. “It’s not like your family can dislike me any more than they already do.”
Twilight just murmured, “Mhm.”
Sunset sighed with a smile. “I’ll never understand how you come from a family of such assholes.”
A gasp came from Twilight’s closet.
Both girls stiffened up. But before Sunset could say a word, Twilight stomped her foot. With her cheeks going red, she shouted, “Marigold, Aster, get out of my room!”
A silent moment passed before the sound of scurrying and scratching came from Twilight’s closet. Sunset half-expected Spike to pop out—she didn’t at all expect two twin children. She recognized them as the boy and girl she’d seen chasing each other downstairs.
The girl elbowed her brother. “I told you you were being too loud, stupid.”
“No, you were!” the boy shot back.
Twilight put her fists on her hips. “You two know you’re not supposed to be in here. I’ve spent months organizing all my equipment, and I’m not just about to let you two—” She stopped when she noticed Sunset’s bewildered expression. Taking a long, calming breath, she turned and said, “Sorry. Sunset, these are my cousins.” She gestured to the girl. “This is Marigold, and this is her brother, Aster.”
Aster peered up at Sunset. “You said a bad word.”
“I did?” Sunset blinked a few times, backtracking through her words. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” said Marigold. She held out her hand. “But now you have to pay five cents.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Twilight grabbed Marigold’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “Where is—Aster, don’t touch that!”
Across the room, Aster flinched away from Twilight’s high powered telescope. “But you said you would play with us.”
“After dinner. And not in here.”
With Twilight distracted, Marigold slipped easily out of her grasp and ran straight back to Sunset’s side. “Your hair is pretty.”
“Aw, thank you!” Sunset said, running a hand through her hair.
Aster walked back up to her. “It looks like bacon.”
“Oh.” Sunset dropped her arm to her side. “Um, thank you?”
“Hey, how come you get to be in Twilight’s room?” Marigold asked, looking up at Sunset. “Are you her girlfriend?”
Sunset nodded. “Yep.”
The twins both looked shocked at that. “Ew,” Aster said, “do you, like, kiss and stuff?”
“Yep,” Sunset said again. She smirked and leaned into Twilight. “Among other things...”
Twilight’s face seized up in a red frenzy. “Out, out out!” she yipped as she shoved her cousins out of the room and shut the door behind them. Once the sound of their whining faded into the distance, Twilight slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor with her head hanging. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize,” Sunset said, helping Twilight back up to her feet. “They’re cute—better than the rest of your family, at least. But you treat them like they’re your little siblings.”
“Well, they only live a few towns over, so I see them more than you’d think.” Twilight giggled. “I guess now I know how my brother must have felt when I was their age.”
Laughing, Sunset walked over to Twilight’s bed and took off her jacket. “What’s got you so protective of your room, anyway? Got drugs stuffed under the floorboards or something?”
“You watch too much TV,” said Twilight. She shrugged. “I just don’t like people touching my things.”
“Why don’t you lock your door?”
Twilight snort-laughed. “I don’t have a lock on my door. You seriously think my parents would ever allow that?” Sunset frowned at her, and immediately the mirth in Twilight’s voice disappeared. “What?”
“Have I ever told you that your parents suck?” Sunset asked. “Like, seriously suck? I’d take sitting at the kids table with your cousins over them today.”
“I... I don’t get what the problem is,” Twilight said, crossing her arms. “They’re just looking out for my safety.”
Sunset raised a brow. “By not allowing you to lock your door?”
“What if there’s a fire and I need to get out of the house quickly?” Twilight asked. “Or if I injure my hand and can’t unlock the door?”
“What is with you always breaking out these weird hypotheticals?” Sunset asked. “Besides, the door isn’t the only thing. What about your eight o’clock curfew? Or how much they hate me?”
“Fine, they’re a bit overprotective. But that doesn’t make them bad people.” Cheeks pink, Twilight looked away and muttered, “And you have to admit: you are a bit... rough around the edges.”
“What...?” Sunset asked, eyes going wide. “What does that mean? How?”
“I dunno, you just are,” Twilight said as she squirmed in place. “I mean, leather jackets? Motorcycles? Keeping me out past curfew every week?”
“I just wear comfortable clothes!” Sunset shot back in a halted voice. “And I always give you my helmet whenever we ride together. And it’s your decision to stay out so late! It’s not like I’m trapping you in my apartment.”
“What about the magic?” Twilight asked. “The way my parents see it, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have any of my ‘freaky’ powers.”
“Well, yeah, but—” Sunset couldn’t think of anything to say. She really had forced Twilight into the whole magic thing, hadn’t she? Sunset had cursed her.
“Whatever,” Twilight said, waving her hand like she was shooing away a fly. “The point is that my parents don’t know you like I do. They see all these things and they judge you because of it. They don’t hate you—they just want to keep me safe.”
Sunset’s mouth hung. “You don’t feel safe around me?”
“Huh?” Twilight shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Do you or don’t you?” asked Sunset, but she already knew the answer. How could Twilight ever feel safe around her? No one felt safe around her—
“Of course I do, Sunset.” Twilight reached out and touched Sunset’s face. “I never feel safer than when I’m with you. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Sunset said, grabbing Twilight’s hand. Sunset glanced down at her pendant—but ignored the urge. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“I’m sorry for calling you rough,” Twilight said. “I just... I don’t like talking badly about my parents like that. I mean, they put me through school, they support everything I wanna do—”
“Not everything,” Sunset said.
Twilight stopped short, then covered her mouth to stifle a snicker. “I’m trying to be serious here,” she said. “My parents aren’t perfect, yeah, but I’m grateful for them. Thankful, if you will. And isn’t that what this holiday is all about?”
The two of them shared a smile. “You are a living cheese wheel,” Sunset said.
“Whatever, Bacon Hair,” Twilight said before leaning in and pressing her lips to Sunset’s.
The sensation of Twilight’s lips against her own always sent Sunset’s mind into a frenzy. Anxious thoughts fading away, Sunset wrapped her arms around Twilight, running her palms along the smaller girl’s spine and letting that sweet strawberry perfume envelop her. As she pushed her tongue into Twilight’s mouth, Sunset explored the rest of Twilight’s body, traipsing her hands away from the crook of her neck, over the tiny bump of her bra strap, and finally down to the soft curve of her—
“What are you two—”
Sunset snapped her head back so fast she felt the whiplash. With the taste of her girlfriend’s tongue still lingering in her mouth, it took Sunset a moment to put her thoughts back together... and realize that Twilight Velvet was standing in the doorway, glaring at her with the venom of a thousand cobras.
It took Sunset another moment to realize that her hands were placed squarely on Twilight’s ass. Sputtering for words, Sunset flung her hands into the air like a criminal being placed under arrest.
“Mom!” Twilight said in a breathy voice. She pulled away from Sunset, glasses askew. “We weren’t—”
“Why are you two up here?” Velvet asked. “You should be downstairs, spending time with everyone. Not up here, away from everyone, doing”—she shook her head—“I don’t even want to know. We talked about this!”
Twilight wrung her hands. “I know.”
“You’re not going to spend the entire night up here,” said Velvet. “Come downstairs. Now.”
“Okay,” Twilight said. “We’ll be right—”
“We were about to come downstairs,” Sunset spat, glowering. “You don’t have to scream.”
Both Sparkles turned to stare at Sunset.
“I’m not screaming,” Velvet said. She shot a sharp glance at Sunset. “And I’d ask you not to interrupt when my daughter is speaking to me.”
Curses rising in her throat, Sunset opened her mouth—only to bite her tongue when she noticed Twilight’s pale face. Her gaze fell. “Sorry.”
Velvet nodded. “Apology accepted.”
Sunset just boiled.
“Don’t worry, Mom!” Twilight said, waving Velvet off. “We’ll be down in just a minute.” She kept up her smile as Velvet left, but then grimaced at Sunset.
“I swear,” Sunset said, clenching her fists, “I’m gonna—”
Twilight took one of Sunset’s hands and held it to her chest. “Take a deep breath.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Twi, I don’t need this.”
“Deep breath. It always makes you feel better.”
A dozen protests bubbled behind Sunset’s lips, but the tingle of Twilight’s thin fingers against her own was enough to keep her mouth closed. She’s right, said the tiny, tiny part of Sunset’s mind that still held any rationality.
Loosening her hands, Sunset drew in a deep breath and held it. She dragged her thoughts away from the anger and focused on the tightness in her lungs, the rapid thump of her heart. One breath, two, three—sure enough, it didn’t take long for Sunset’s brain to clear up. Twilight rubbing her hand the entire time didn’t hurt either.
“Let’s enjoy dinner,” Twilight said. “Alright?”
A twinge of agitation still lingered inside Sunset, but she held it down. “Food does sound good right now.”
Twilight led Sunset to the door. “Just remember to use your napkin, alright?”
“Are you saying I’m a sloppy eater?”
“No, no. You’re just, uh...”—Twilight looked around—“...enthusiastic about food. And eating. And smearing stuff all over your face.”
Sunset pouted. “Your face is enthusiastic.”
“Nice comeback.”
A few minutes later, Sunset and Twilight sat together at the dinner table—”The Grown Ups’ table!” Twilight noted every ten seconds—surrounded by relatives and waiting with empty plates for the food to come around. Every few moments, Sunset would take another deep breath. She had to keep herself calm, now more than ever—even if she found it totally unfair that she had to sit on the metal folding chair, while everyone else got normal seats. Shifting uncomfortably around, she tried to focus on anything but the ache in her butt.
Even Aster and Marigold, sitting at a tiny foldout table in the living room, had better seats than her. What she wouldn’t give to sit with them, rather than next to still-snoring Grandma Sparkle.
C’mon, I crashed their party, Sunset told herself as she doled mashed potatoes into her plate. Am I expecting them to just magic up another chair for me? This isn’t Equestria.
Twilight passed her a dish of chopped up turkey flesh.
“Yeah, definitely not Equestria,” Sunset whispered, passing it along.
“You’re not going to have any turkey?” Twilight asked, shooting Sunset a sideways glance.
“I don’t think so.” Sunset watched Cousin Primrose stab a serving fork into the meat and winced. “I respect their culture too much for that.”
Twilight stared, face blank—then frowned. “Oh, right. Equestria.”
“Oh, right,” Sunset said, leering at the murder victim on Twilight’s plate. “Earth.”
Across the table, Velvet clasped her hands and looked around the table. “This is just lovely. The holidays are always better with family, don’t you think?” She avoided Sunset’s passive glare.
“And the turkey looks absolutely delicious,” said Night Light.
Twilight smiled. “You’re only saying that because you cooked it.”
A tiny titter went around the table. Night Light chuckled and said, “Hey, that was supposed to be our secret!”
Sunset watched the exchange and listened to Twilight’s laugh with bewilderment. She still didn't get it; this had to be Stockholm Syndrome, right? What else could explain Twilight ever being happy when talking to her parents? What else could explain Twilight laughing at their fake jokes?
I’m making them sound like demons. Maybe they’re not as bad as I think. Sunset looked down at her lap. But if they’re not awful, does that... does that mean I am?
What if Twilight’s parents were right about Sunset the whole time? What if she really was a bad influence on Twilight and just didn’t want to believe it?
No, no, that couldn’t be true. She and Twilight were fine together. Just fine.
“Sunset?”
Sunset looked up. The first thing she noticed was Twilight’s pallid face—followed soon after by the realization that everyone was staring at her.
She gulped. Please don’t tell me I said all that out loud. “Yeah?”
Night Light leaned over to look at her. “I asked, would you like to lead Grace?”
“Who?” Sunset asked, earning a laugh from the table. She glanced around a few times before it hit her as to what was being requested. “Oh! Uh, well...”
Falling over her words, Sunset looked to Twilight for help, but her girlfriend just stared like a little girl watching her puppy being run over.
She wanted to refuse—she had to refuse. She’d never done something like this before. She didn't even know any of the words! She prepared to decline... but then saw Velvet’s knowing—and mocking—smirk.
The whole reason Sunset had agreed to come over was to try to impress Velvet and Night Light. She’d failed horribly so far, but this was her chance! She’d seen people saying Grace in movies. Surely she could replicate it if she tried hard enough. And once she nailed the prayer, Velvet would never give her that pretentious smirk ever again.
“Alright,” she said, lifting her head high.
Everyone followed suit as Sunset clasped her hands and bowed her head. She put on a steady face and opened her mouth, recalling everything she had learned from years of watching TV.
Nothing came out.
With the entirety of the Sparkle family waiting on her, Sunset’s mind had become a void. Not a single word came to mind. She couldn’t even remember the name of Twilight’s religion, let alone who she prayed to—and as the silence grew longer, Sunset’s mind only grew hazier. Even with her vision focused on the tablecloth, Sunset knew everyone was staring at her, judging her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Twilight mouthing something, but Sunset had never been good at reading lips, even when her heart wasn’t racing...
“Sunset,” said Velvet, raising a brow, “are you alright?”
Screw you screw you screw you, Sunset thought, her stoic expression melting back into a glower. She wanted to pick up her plate and throw it in Velvet’s face. You set me up!
“I’m okay, it’s just...” Sunset spent a moment searching for an excuse, before letting her clasped hands drop to the table with a thud. Scowling, she said, “Fine, I don’t know how to say Grace. We don’t do it at my house. Sorry.”
A thick silence settled over the dinner table as everyone looked up from their mid-prayer poses. Sunset looked away, face feeling tight.
Velvet nodded. “Alright, that’s fine. I can do it.”
Sunset didn’t acknowledge the response. She ducked her head as if to join in saying Grace, but in reality she was hiding her red cheeks, her gritted teeth. She couldn’t hear the prayer past the thoughts rushing around in her head; anger, confusion, and humiliation had all gazed together like a great cloud of poisonous smoke, choking her. Taking a deep breath just stoked the nausea in her stomach.
While everyone ate around her, Sunset stared at her plate. She could hear Velvet’s and Night Light’s voices—their awful, self-satisfied croons, spat out in stupid fake accents—
Under the tablecloth, Twilight wrapped her hand around Sunset’s and squeezed. Without even a look, she knew what Twilight wanted. She focused her thoughts for long enough to activate her pendant.
Worry and distress flooded Sunset’s senses. Are you alright? Twilight asked.
Sunset snorted. What do you think?
I’m sorry. Twilight tightened her grip. I should have taught you how to say Grace last night. I swear, I didn’t know my dad would ask you to lead it.
I should have guessed, thought Sunset. After all, why wouldn’t your parents take an opportunity to humiliate me in front of everyone?
What do you mean?
Sunset shook her head. What do you think I mean? They set me up. They knew I didn’t know the words. Why else would they ask me to do it?
Out of kindness? Twilight replied, shrugging. There are a few things my parents are super serious about. Their prayers are one of them. They wouldn't use one of them against you.
So I’m being paranoid? Sunset asked.
I didn’t say that.
Sunset wriggled out of Twilight’s grasp and grabbed her fork. Shoveling potatoes into her mouth, she stewed in her frustration—and tried to ignore the sudden deluge of doubt filling her head. They’re not out to get me—they’re just protecting their daughter. As Twilight’s thoughts faded out, new ones replaced them: constant, hidden fears, now supercharged. I’m acting this way because I know they’re right. I’m just as awful as they say I am.
Fists clenched, Sunset moved to stand up.
Twilight pressed down hard on Sunset’s knee, keeping her grounded. But the sudden action caught Sunset off guard—she couldn’t do anything to stop her powers from activating. She felt her emotions spilling out into Twilight, her every thought laid bare. Twilight knew the contours of Sunset’s mind better than anyone, and now with each passing moment her grip on Sunset’s leg tightened.
“Oh, gosh,” Twilight murmured, her face twisting into a grimace. I didn’t mean to call you paranoid.
No, you were right. I’m just bringing down the mood. Sunset kept her head down. I should go. No one wants me here.
I do.
Why? Sunset asked. All I’ve done is embarrass you.
Twilight put on a smile. C’mon, Sunset. You know I don’t care about whether you can say Grace or not. It doesn’t matter.
But it does! Sunset said. It just shows how different I am from everyone here. I don’t fit. And besides, that’s not the only thing. Head hanging, she looked to Twilight. You said it yourself: what about all the times I’ve kept you out past your curfew? And you know that if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had to deal with Midnight, or Gloriosa, or any of that.
And?
Sunset’s gaze dropped to the floor again. What if your parents are right? What if I really am bad for you? I mean, I thought I’d changed—but what if I haven’t?
Twilight kept silent for a moment, then said, Sunset, hold my hand.
I know, Sunset said, growling. ‘Take a deep breath.’
That’s not what I want, Twilight said. Without waiting, she grabbed Sunset’s hand. Just trust me.
Anger and frustration bubbling up, Sunset felt more than ready to argue—but stopped when she saw Twilight’s stern look. Those eyes told Sunset everything she needed to know. She closed her eyes, focused her magic, and projected herself into Twilight’s thoughts.
A moment later, Sunset found herself staring up at the Earth, hard gray rock beneath her feet. The buzz of Thanksgiving dinner conversation had been replaced by the static buzz of magic and the the soft breathing of Twilight at her side. Sunset clicked her tongue. “I’m not sure I’m up for a romantic getaway right now, Twi.”
“We’re here so we can have a real talk. Look at me,” Twilight said in a voice more stern than Sunset had ever heard her use before. She had Sunset turn, then stared deep into her eyes. “You are not a bad person.”
“But—”
“No. You are kind, and caring, and wonderful. You’re my girlfriend, and that’s not changing anytime soon.” Twilight held her glower for a moment more before shrinking away, her entire body seeming to deflate from the effort of staying so stoic. She sat down on the ground and waited for Sunset to join her before muttering, “You’ve never listened to my parents before. Why are you starting now?”
Sunset shrugged. “I dunno, it’s just—when someone tells you you’re awful for long enough, I guess you start to believe it.” She sighed. “Maybe I’m not dangerous or whatever. But your parents aren’t ever gonna be happy as long as I’m around. I don’t wanna make you choose between them and me.”
“I don’t have to,” Twilight said. “I love my parents, and I always will. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t be awful jerks sometimes, especially when they think they’re ‘protecting’ me. I don’t care what they think or say about you. And being with you is worth putting up with their crap.”
Sunset recoiled; she didn’t think that she’d ever heard Twilight curse before.
“I love you because you’re different from them,” said Twilight, resting her head against Sunset’s shoulder. “I love you for the leather jackets, the motorcycles, the staying up late. That’s what makes you you.”
Her words sank into Sunset. For the first time that night, Sunset felt the creeping nausea in her gut start to subside, replaced by the tickle of breath against her neck, the familiar scent of lavender that lingered on her sheets—and the sudden, soft press of Twilight’s lips against her cheek.
“Does that help?” Twilight asked in a soft voice.
“Goddess,” Sunset blurted out, turning her head down. With a shaking grin, she said, “Yeah. Yeah, that helps.” She chuckled. “This is so cheesy.”
“Mhm,” Twilight said, staring up into the stars. “But sometimes cheesy is nice, right?”
Sunset let out a murmur of agreement and rubbed at her eyes. When she opened them up again, the imaginary landscape had disappeared, and she found herself back in reality: sitting at the dinner table, a stranger in a gravy-scented land, her fingers wrapped up with Twilight’s.
That little trip into Twilight’s mind had done wonders for Sunset’s mood—and her appetite—but still, she couldn’t help but be tense around the rest of the Sparkle family. Sure, what they thought of her didn’t matter. But that didn’t mean that she enjoyed feeling like every bite she took was under surveillance. She tried to ignore everyone else and focus back on her food.
It took Sunset a moment to realize that Twilight was giving her a concerned look, and another to realize that their hands were still intertwined. Sunset had just broadcasted all her thoughts.
Twilight’s Thinking Stare made a reappearance—this time, however, Sunset knew exactly what she had planned.
“No,” Sunset whispered. “Really, you don’t have to do this. I’m fine.”
“Too late,” Twilight said, smiling and letting go of Sunset’s hand. Twilight rose from her chair and picked up her plate, attracting stares from both her parents.
“Honey?” said Velvet, raising a brow. “Where are you going?”
Twilight took a steeling breath, then said, “Sunset and I are going to eat at the Kids’ table.” She walked away before they could respond.
With their daughter gone, both parents’ gazes landed on Sunset.
Sunset froze like a deer in the headlights—then snatched up her plate and hurried out of the dining room.
She caught up with Twilight halfway down the hall and grabbed her shoulder. “Twi, you can’t be serious. You’ve been hyped about sitting with the adults all night. You don’t have to give that up for me.”
“I can eat dinner with my parents any night of the week. This is your first Thanksgiving; I’m sure it hasn’t been the most relaxing night you’ve ever had, but you at least deserve to eat in peace. And besides”—Twilight cast her a smile as they rounded a corner into the living room, where her two little cousins sat—“these brats are cooler than anyone back in the dining room.”
Aster and Marigold gazed upon the teenagers like they were angels sent down from the heavens. “Hey,” said Aster, frowning as they sat down at the tiny folding table. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Grown Ups’ table?”
Twilight nodded and opened her mouth to explain, but Sunset, a massive grin on her face, interrupted with, “Yeah, but your big cousin Twilight told me that she thinks you’re so cool and loves you so much that she wants to spend the rest of the night hanging out and playing with you.” She cast her girlfriend a saccharine glance. “Isn’t that right?”
The wonder-filled eyes of her cousins boring into her, Twilight squirmed silently—then rolled her eyes and muttered, “Yeah.”
“Does this mean we get to play with your telescope?” Aster asked.
“No,” Twilight said.
“Please?”
Twilight sighed. “Maybe.”
While Aster and Twilight bartered, Marigold pulled on Sunset’s sleeve and asked, “Hey, my mom told me that you’re a wizard. Is that true?”
Sunset sipped at her drink and shook her head. “Nah, I’m a pony.”
Marigold gaped. “Can I have you for Christmas?”
Giggling, Sunset said, “No, sorry. But I do have something you can have...” She reached into her pocket, dug around a bit, then pulled out a shiny nickel. She pressed it into Marigold’s palm. “Here. For earlier.”
Marigold cradled the coin like an ancient artifact, like it would crumble to dust if she moved too quick. “Twilight,” said Marigold, voice full of awe. “You have the best girlfriend ever.”
Twilight and Sunset exchanged a glance. “I know,” Twilight said, smiling.
“You should have babies,” Aster said.
Sunset choked on her food.
An hour later, Sunset and Twilight walked out of the house, headed for Sunset’s motorcycle. Twilight shivered at the brisk November air, rubbing her exposed arms; Sunset had assured her that she didn’t need to come outside, but Twilight had insisted, if only to get a break from giving her cousins piggyback rides.
Sunset hopped onto her bike. “Well, that was an eventful night.”
“I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you expected,” Twilight said, handing Sunset her helmet. “I’m still glad you came, though.”
“So am I.” Sunset winked. “Tell your parents that the food was lovely.”
Twilight laughed. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your opinion. Maybe we can have you back for Hearth’s Warming dinner?”
“We’ll see,” Sunset said slowly.
“Twilight, honey!” Velvet called from the house. “Come back inside! You’ll catch a cold out there!”
“Coming!” Twilight yelled back. She sighed and turned back to Sunset. “I guess I’ll—”
Sunset kissed Twilight. Twilight flinched in surprise, but soon closed her eyes and leaned into Sunset’s touch. Sunset breathed in her lavender scent and smiled; she couldn’t see if Velvet was still watching, but hoped she was. She hoped that Velvet was fuming.
