My Roommate, Pinkie Pie

by DatZigga

Rating: teen
Tags: Anon, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human, Comedy, Profanity, Pinkie Pie, Sex
Length: 6634

Anon gets a new roommate. God help him.

Avon “Anonymous” Smith gets a roommate. That roommate is Pinkie Pie. Shenanigans ensue.

Note: Expect nothing from this fic, it’s just more wish fulfillment with a pinker focus.

Published 2020-09-28 15:50:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-09-03 21:01:57 UTC

Hou(r)se Hunter

A heavy weight rested on Anon’s chest. Not in a metaphorical context, an actual considerable weight was currently resting on Anon’s chest. This comes as a mild surprise to him. After all, his cat, Sabrina, made an infrequent habit of sleeping on top of him. However, unless she had gained a considerable amount of weight, this was mildly surprising and/or concerning. Anon was hesitant to open his eyes, as it meant having to acknowledge that he is a human being with responsibilities. Nevertheless, he peeked.

Pinkie Pie, a dear friend and equally loathed nuisance, had made herself at home on his pectoral muscles and abdomen, curled into a pink catlike ball. Snoring away with a care, completely sound asleep. This wasn’t the first time Pinkie has, for the lack of a better term, slept with Anon. Pinkie wasn’t even the first pony, again, for a lack of a better term. However, this was the first time Pinkie slept with him in his bed in his world. Anon concluded that she portaled her way over for seemingly no reason but to make his morning just that more annoying.

Welp, this is my life. He sighed hopelessly, trapped under the pony. Even a heartless bastard like himself didn’t want to wake her just to get up himself. Chances are she’ll wake up soon. Her original plan was probably to wake me up at the crack of dawn. Luckily she… Anon looked over to his alarm clock to see that the time was 5:32 am.

...Failed. Sighing harder, Anon looked around his dorm room. Barely illuminated by the light of lamp posts outside his window, he found nothing particularly new or of interest. Except for a heap of luggage that stacked themselves to his ceiling. It took about 12 seconds for the sight to set in.

“Ponkers, wake up.” Anon commanded dryly, prodding a finger in the pony’s plush cheek.

“5 more minutes…” Pinkie sleepily muttered, not the least bit bothered by Anon’s persistent poking.

“Young lady, you will wake up when I tell you to wake up!” Anon went from poking to shaking the pony, although not as hard as he would’ve like due to fatigue. Still, it did enough to rouse Pinkie from her slumber. She looked toward her bedmate, slowly blinking each eye independently.

“You sound like my dad.” She addressed the miffed human, followed by a yawn. Pinkie brushed her mane from her face, drawing Anon’s attention for the first time that it was straighter than normal. At the least, he’s talking to a calmer, albeit moodier Pie.

Anon grabbed Pinkie’s cheeks and swiveled her head towards the mountain of luggage. “Then could you be a dear and tell me what that is?”

“A mountain of luggage.” Pinkie said with a small smile.

“Smartass.”

“Okay. My mountain of luggage.”

Anon pinched his nose. “And why is your mountain of luggage sitting in my room? If you hadn’t noticed, you’re in my world now. My domain. The one place I can be away from you ponies and your perfect-adjacent life.”

Pinkie sat herself up, letting out another yawn and rubbing her eyes. As she did so, her hair started curling ever so slightly, like it was a living thing retreating into itself. When she next spoke, it was with a little more energy.

“I moved out of Sugarcube Corner.” She answered bluntly, as if it was nothing but a Tuesday for her.

“Haven’t you lived there for like, I dunno, 10 or some odd years?” Anon sat up, pressing his back against the headboard. “That seems like a very sudden change.” This prompted a laugh from Pinkie.

“Tell me about it.” Pinkie rubbed the back of her head. “Mr. and Mrs. Cake only just told me about a week ago. Unprompted too!”

Anon raised an eyebrow. “Wait, were you moved out or kicked out?”

Pinkie pressed a hoof to her chin, her tongue sticking out as she considered the question more seriously than she should.

“Is there a difference?” Pinkie asked genuinely. “Mrs. Cake said that with Pound and Pumpkin getting bigger and older, it was starting to get cramped in that little bakery. Also, she mentioned that I should start to think about being “independent” or whatever that means. Either way, she helped me gather my stuff and sent me on my way!”

Okay, so kicked it is. Anon thought to himself. “Wait, why couldn’t you just live down in the Party Cave?”

“The Party Cave is still a cave, silly Nonny!” Pinkie teased, booping Anon on the nose. “It’s too cold, dark, and damp!”

“Then why keep your supplies in-“ Anon drew his breath and stopped himself. Wrong Question, Avon. “Fine. Then couldn’t you have roomed with your other friends? You know, the ones that live in the same dimension as you?”

“I tried!” Pinkie whined. “First, I went to live with Twilight and Starlight in the Friendship Castle but I, to quote, ‘could be heard from every room available in the castle’. I also might’ve made a habit of throwing parties during Twilight’s reading time.”

“Every room…?” Anon muttered in disbelief.

“Then I roomied with Rainbow Dash.” Pinkie continued. “After recovering from the concussion, I went to Sweet Apple Acres. Things were nice there, but it felt too much like my old home. That, and I had to do chores.”

“The curse of living with family.”

“So then I tried convincing Rarity but she said that having one hyperactive, messy, singing filly was enough. Which is weird because I’m not a filly, I’m a mare!”

“Did you try Fluttershy?” Anon asked, attempting to find an alternative. Pinkie responded with a raised eyebrow of her own and an unamused expression.

“I may be silly, but I’m not stupid. Even I know me and Fluttershy wouldn’t make great roommates.”

“Fair enough, shit.” Anon grumbled. “Still, I don’t see why you couldn’t just find a place to stay in Ponyville. Hell, I did it and I was an alien!”

“But I don’t wanna be a squatter like you, Nonny!” Pinkie gave an earnest smile as she said that, which couldn’t clash worse with the sinking feeling in Anon’s stomach.

“Harsh…”

“And I don’t have the bits to buy a home.” Pinkie continued once more. “All I could ever buy were sweets and party supplies.”

“Wait, so you spent the money you made at Sugarcube Corner at Sugarcube Corner?”

“Yes!”

“What about the money you made planning parties?”

“Nonny!” Pinkie gasped, as though Anon had slandered her family name. “I would never charge for a party! A party is a gift meant to be given to celebrate the ones we love, not extort them for the sake of making a profit! Shame on you!” Pinkie lightly booped Anon on the nose again. “But if I did, yeah, I’d spend it at Sugarcube Corner.”

“Mrs. Cake was right, you do need to learn independence. Specifically, financial.”

Pinkie’s hair deflates again, straightening out as she lays on top of Anon’s lap, in a dramatic pose that would make Rarity proud.

“I looked everywhere for a place to stay, Nonny!” Pinkie cried out in desperation. “Everywhere!”

“Wait, what about my place?” Anon questioned. “Despite me being a ‘squatter’, I only ever visit on the weekends. You could live there for the rest of the week.”

For a moment, Pinkie was silent. From the look in her eyes, wide and dilated, it appeared that she hadn’t thought of that particular idea. Anon looked down at the mare, shaking his head in disappointment. She sat up, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly.

“I guess not everywhere, everywhere.” Pinkie admitted, more to herself that Anon. “But I already brought all my stuff here!”

“So you’re just going to room with me because you’re too lazy to move all the luggage that you brought here in the first place unannounced?!” Anon crosses his arms, the universal signal for an oncoming rejection. “I’m sorry, Ponks. I have no desire for a roommate as I quite like living alone.”

“What? No!” Pinkie exclaimed, wrapping her hooves around Anon’s waist. She gazed up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I live here with you?”

“No.” Anon said resolutely.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”

“No!”

“Pretty please~?” Pinkie asked in a suddenly more sultry tone, her eyes lidded in a suggestive manner.

“What the-!?”

“Please please please please please please please please” Pinkie repeated ad nauseam. Anon covered his ears in a vain attempt to block her out. Finally, he snapped.

“FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK AND ALL THAT’S HOLEY, FINE!” Anon yelled at the top of his lungs. In the suite next door, he could hear one of the room’s doors swing open violently.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? We’re trying to sleep!” Called out one of the suitemates, luckily to no one in particular. Then, the door violently slammed again. Anon stared daggers at the mare, who looked genuinely remorseful and even a little afraid. She opened her mouth to apologize, only for Anon to forcibly grab her muzzle and squeeze it tight.

“Ground. Rules.” Anon spoke in a harsh whisper. “Rule #1: You do not leave this room. I don’t know how anyone is going to react to a small pink pony running around campus. Which brings us to Rule #2: Do not talk to anyone. If TV has taught me anything is that talking animals draw all the wrong kinds of attention. And Rule #3: Stay out of my stuff. In the human world, we like our boundaries. While you are a guest here, you will respect mine. Understood? Nod if you understand.”

Pinkie nods solemnly. Satisfied, Anon let go of Pinkie’s muzzle and turned over in bed. He tried his best to ignore her sad puppy eyes, her now completely straight mane, or the little bit of sniffling that he could hear as his back turned. Tried, being the operative word. Anon looked down at the foot of the bed to find Pinkie curled into a ball, this time as far as she could muster. She was even pressed against the wall, she tried to put so much distance.

Anon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Here was a mare, nay, a person, just trying to find a place to stay. Sure, she’s a little stubborn and excitable. She probably annoyed everyone of her friends in the same way, resulting in him being the only (or pseudo-only) choice. Maybe he had good reason to be upset, but he just couldn’t find it within himself to stay that way.

Anon reached down for Pinkie, grabbing her torso with his hands. She recoiled at his touch, fearful of what he was going to do. For a moment, she was like a wounded puppy, only bigger and pinker. But once she saw the remorseful look in Anon’s eyes, she relaxed and let herself be dragged back up to his side. He cradled her in his arms and calmly stroked her mane.

“Look,” Anon started, sighing in both exhaustion and frustration. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Old habits and all that. If you want to be my roommate, that’s fine.” He felt his words have an effect when the hair in his hand starts to curl around his fingers, like a child’s hand clinging to a parent’s finger. “I only wish you didn’t just drop in like the decision was already made. It felt like, well, it feels like I don’t have a choice.”

Pinkie looked away glumly, feeling shame and remorse of her own. Anon, knowing he would come to regret this someday, leaned down and kissed Pinkie Pie on the top of her mane. It was something he often did with his own cat and considering the ponies love of affection, it felt like the right move. He got his confirmation when Pinkie’s hair suddenly poofed in an explosion beneath him.

“Regardless, I’ll let you stay for as long as it takes for you to feel comfortable living on your own. If only because you’re cute and I have a weakness for cute girls. Even if they’re ponies.” Anon closed his eyes, silently patting himself on the back as Pinkie hummed happily in his arms. “Night, Ponkers.”

“Goodnight, Nonny.”

Anon could feel the wave of sleepiness as he heard those words. With the embrace a warm, snuggly horse, he could feel himself slowly fall into a blissful rest. The world faded away around him, leaving in total-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The alarm clock blared next to the two. Anon’s smile slowly contorted to that of a scornful gritting of teeth as the beeping continued incessantly.

“MOTHER-!”

Author's Note

This works well as a one shot but I’m leaving it incomplete just in case I actually write for this story.

Can’t A Guy Get Some Privacy?

Hot showers. If primates became men when they discovered how to create fire, the primate that had the idea to heat water and pour it on one’s body was surely God. A blessing it was, to feel streams of liquid life pour over a body so tired and sore and weak.

Anon stood for what must’ve been an hour, but only felt like seconds, under the shower head. His eyes were closed lightly, his breath came and went in controlled inhales and exhales. Then, came the hard part.

A mere twist of the knob. That’s all it took to return to the world of the dreary and dour. The warmth of the water clung frivolously to his skin, before dissipating into the air as steam. The cold of reality enveloped him in its uncaring despair.

Anon sighed. He stepped out of the shower stall, towel wrapped around his waist. He looked around the dorm bathroom, making sure the coast was clear. He then started the chilling, cruel walk to his dorm room, shivering all the while.

He inserted his key into the door handle. Then, he waited. He slowly turned the key, the lock sliding out of place. Then, he waited. He slowly removed the key and grabbed the handle. Then, he waited.

He pulled the door open and he peered into the darken room. He looked left. He looked right. The cold nipped his nips. With no sign of a pink shade in the dark, Anon slipped inside the door and closed it behind him. He approached the clothes laid out on his bed and, yes, he waited. When the coast was clear, he slowly unwrapped the towel around his waist...

The book flew open just behind him, a portal to Equestria providing an inconvenient window into his reality. Anon quickly tightened the towel around him.

“Sonuvabitch!” He muttered under his breath. No matter how hard he tried to be cautious, life had a funny way of catching him with his pants down. In this case, off completely.

Pinkie jumped out of the portal, licking frosting from her cheeks with an over extended tongue.

“Hiya, Nonny!” She greeted cheerfully, waving her hoof in tandem.

“Hello, Pinkie.” Anon greeted less enthusiastically, his arms crossed as he glared at the pony. Well, one arm crossed, the other was securely gripping the towel around his waist. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I live here now, silly!” Pinkie answered.

“Yeah, we established that. I mean, why are you here now? Don’t you have work or friendship school to teach?”

“Nonny, when you’re a party pony like me, you have a knack for finding leisure time.” Pinkie stated simply.

“Leisure time-“ Anon was about to ask what that entailed, before being subsequently gut checked by a patented Pinkie Tackle ™.

“Lazy party!” She screamed, pushing Anon onto the bed. Anon kept his hand around the towel as he sat on the edge. Pinkie scurried into his lap, Anon given face-fulls of mane and tail hair.

Finally, she settled on lying on her back, belly up as Anon spat out strands of her bubblegum hair. She rested a hoof on her hair, imitating a dramatic pose befitting of Rarity.

“You just don’t know how hard I have it, Nonny.” Pinkie sighed, sounding as though she’s tired. Although, given the full puff of her hair, Anon was thoroughly aware that this was a show. “Having to attend to Sugar Cube Corner, teaching the Equestrian youth the difference between muffins and cupcakes, and especially all the world ending catastrophes that I have to stop.”

“Is this suppose to lead to something?”

“I’ve just been in such desserts-“

“Distress?”

“Distress! If only I had a good friend and new, bestest roomie who had a gift for giving belly rubs?” She gave Anon the biggest puppy eyes she could muster. Anon merely sighed.

“I don’t know why you put in so much effort when you know I’m going to do it.” Anon grumbled as he shook his head. How easily he has been reduced to such a pitiful, if enviable, state.

“Cause it’s fun~” Pinkie sang, presenting her belly in full. Anon gave his knuckles a good crack and started with a complimentary ear scratch. Then, he worked his hand, still warm from the hot shower, and petted the pony down her neck, her chest, and finally her belly. Pinkie’s leg kicked excitedly, her tongue lolled out of the side of her face.

Meanwhile, Anon looked over at the book, currently closed. It is amazing how such a simple piece of text has significantly altered his life. Then again, it was an object of great magical power in a world it didn’t belong in. He wonders what could’ve been if he had never received it, thus never going to Equestria. Would he be the man he was today? Probably not. Also, the book was rather worn, with a slight tear in the-

“Nonny,” Pinkie asked, Anon’s attention pulled away from the book he was staring at. “Why do you never look at me during?”

Thank God-both pony, man, and eldritch-that he wasn’t drinking right now or that surely would’ve been a spit take.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Anon asked, immediately flushed. It was a good thing that he kept the manhood tucked between the legs like a scared lion with his tail or else Anon Jr. would be making a guest appearance at the mere insinuation of sex.

“My belly rubs.” Pinkie answered obliviously. “You always look somewhere else if I’m lying on my back.”

“That’s because I’m trying not to look at, uhm...them.” Anon nudged his head towards the lower part of Pinkie’s torso, which prompted her to sit up and take a look for herself.

“You mean my teats?” She asked incredulously, an eyebrow raised as if that was a weird thing to not want to see. As some would argue, perhaps it was.

“Yeah.” Anon’s answer was brief. He continued rubbing the belly as if that alone was going to drop the topic from further discussion.

“Is there something wrong with them? Are they too big?” Pinkie asked, genuinely worried about her figure.

“No, they’re not too-“ Invasive thought alert: are they big? Like, as big as she thinks they are? We should check. Anon nearly looked down to confirm whether Pinkie’s...teats could potentially be classified as “too big”. However, he quickly squandered the thought, having sensed the violation to his moral code. “No. Just no. It’s just that I’m not used to seeing ponies naked yet.”

“But we’re naked all the time.” Pinkie stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I’m still not used to it. That should tell you something.”

“Well,” Pinkie started, her hooves on her hips. “It tells me that you’re worried about your own teats.” To prove her point, she raised a hoof and pressed it against his pectoral muscle. “If it makes you feel any better, yours are nice too! Very squishy!”

Anon smacked her hoof away. “Hands-er, hooves off! Jesus, you ponies are so touchy-feely, I shutter at the thought of what a pony molester would look like.”

“Dark.” Pinkie responded, as she started to knead at the towel around his wait. “Is the towel also because your self-conscious?”

“No, that’s about modesty. I don’t just go about, waving my dick at people.”

“Well, I guess some stallions are like that, but that’s usually because they have smaller-“

“We are not about to imply that I have a small penis!” Anon shouted, perhaps a little too loud.

A unwanted silenced filled the room. Anon sat with one arm crossed, the other still stress-caressing Pinkie’s stomach. Pinkie herself looked away in contemplation. Despite the lack of a clock, Anon could swear that he could hear as the seconds ticked by. Then, Pinkie broke the silence with a simple question.

“Do you?”

Is this even real? Anon conjured the question in his mind, with the subject of this being purposefully ambiguous. Anon had completely disassociated. Good timing too, as there apparently was a clock in Pinkie’s mane, as she had removed it.

“Uh oh! Lazy party over!” Pinkie rolls off of Anon’s lap, landing on her hooves. She threw the book open, which opened the portal to Equestria. “I have a class in a couple of minutes. Ironically enough, it’s about teaching students the importance of respecting a friend’s personal space. Oh well, ‘Do as I say, not as I do!’ We’ll talk about your penis later! Toodles!” With that, Pinkie jumped through the portal, her vigor restored.

Anon lurched up from the bed, the towel nearly falling to the floor before Anon caught it. He held it against his crotch and shook his free fist as the portal closed on him.

“We are NOT talking about it later!” He yelled after her fruitlessly. His arms grew limp as he realized this fact. She’s fucking with me. She has to be fucking with me. There’s no way she’s not fucking with me.

Anon looked down at his hand, the one in which he supplied the pink devil with her coveted belly rubs. He watched with mild annoyance that his hand was covered in light pink hairs, having stuck to his skin. He followed the trail up his arm and down his torso as he slowly realized that he was absolutely covered in Pinkie’s hair. On his darker skin, it would be incredibly difficult to NOT notice it if he walked around the campus now.

So, with a frustrated sigh and more than a few grumblings, Anon wrapped himself in his hair covered towel. Then, he walked out of his room to go back to the showers to wash himself. Again.

Author's Note

All this for a “smol pp” joke. This is why I don’t write as much anymore .

Pony On The Loose

The first thing Anon noticed when he woke up was the lack of warmth in his bed. Normally, this wouldn’t be unusual for him. He had always slept alone after all. Well, until recently when Pinkie moved in about, what, a week now? Jeez, it felt like months. Anyways, Anon had gotten used to Pinkie’s body heat radiating under the blanket.

Anon asked, nay, begged for Pinkie to use the other bed in the room, but she wasn’t having any of it. She insisted that she slept better with Anon. When Anon brought up the fact that she has slept numerous times in Equestria, even after getting kicked out of Sugarcube Corner, she retorted that sleeping with a friend is objectively better.

He rose out of bed, his eyes barely opening. When they did, that’s when he noticed the second thing: Pinkie wasn’t in the room. This, too, wasn’t all that a surprise. After all, there were her day job-excuse me, day jobs. Being a clerk and an educator and on-standby hero were full-time occupations. This worked perfectly with his school schedule since that meant he didn’t have to babysit her.

With a slow blink, he started making out the dimly lit room, with only scatters of the sun’s rays bleeding through his blinds. After another blink, he squinted, as he noticed his dorm’s door ajar. The third and final thing to notice, and this one is irregular.

Anon is practically paranoid when it comes to privacy. He double and triples check over door he ever comes across to make sure it’s closed behind him. Thus, he couldn’t have left it open, let alone overnight. A cursory glance around the room also dissuade any thoughts that the room was broken into.

Slowly, Anon pieces together all the little nuggets of information together. He frowned.

“Pinkie?” Anon said in a hushed tone, scanning the room again. He checked the magic book with the emblazoned horse on the cover. Usually it’s opened pages served as a gateway between the two worlds. When he found it closed, Anon gulped.

He threw on some clothes and peeked out into the hall. He nearly recoiled from the sun blinding him through the windows. It had to be 12 by now. Anon collected himself and stumbled out of the room, still groggy.

“Pinkie? Pinkie!” He commanded in a hush whisper, as if it would be enough to gather that mare’s attention.

After searching the floor, Anon started to panic. Anon never truly considered what would happen if anyone else beside him saw these ponies. Was it a case of him being the only one that can see them? If not, what are people going to make of a pink pony trotting around the campus?

Anon rushed to the elevators, a little more awake than before. He paced over to the window, pondering every place the mare would likely go if she got the chance. He was so in his thoughts, he nearly didn’t recognized the fluffy horse pronking down the sidewalk below.

The sight of it nearly stunned him, swept him off his feet. No one else but her was out there at the moment, so her cover hadn’t been blown. At least, that was what Anon thought. With a ding, the elevator doors opened behind him. Anon rushed inside and mashed the ground floor button til the doors closed.

“What is this chick thinking?!” Anon fumed within his head. “If anyone finds her, there’s gonna be a national incident. I know how the story goes. Government agent gets a whiff and it’s phone home for Pinkie! Then, they’re gonna question me about her and the book because of course she’ll talk about the book and-“

The elevator doors open to the ground floor. Anon stormed out without another thought, through the front doors of the building. Outside, he scouted the parking lot for any signs of Pinkie, only to come up short. That’s when he heard giggling. It wasn’t Pinkie Pie’s giggle but chances are it was Pinkie trying to get someone to laugh.

Anon fast walked towards the laughter. He eventually found himself just around the corner of the girl’s dorm. Peeking, he found Pinkie sitting in front of a trio of girls on a bench. The girls seemed to be in utter disbelief at the pink mare before them. Their phones were out as they recorded her, the sight alone made Anon’s heart skip a beat.

Ignoring the fear of spilling spaghetti or showing his power level to his peers, he left from the corner and quickly went over to the group. Pinkie looked back to see a furious Anon approaching her, arms out to scoop her up. She obliviously waved back with a smile, earning herself a few d’aaws from the girls.

Anon immediately picked her up and almost managed to pull a full 180, before one of the girls spoke up.

“Excuse me,” the lady called, identifiable under her denim jacket. “Is that your...?” Denim lady blanked for a moment unsure what to call the mare. For a second, Anon assumed she was slow, until he considered that Pinkie didn’t exactly resemble a equine all that closely. Yeah sure, she had the snout and the gait, but just before she sat like a dog and she was so goddamned pink, she looked like her fur was dyed.

“Pony.” Anon blurted, the words tumbling out of his mouth like dominoes. “She’s a pony. My, uh, grandmother got her from a, uh, petting zoo?” He didn’t mean to add the upward inflection, but his head was not in the space to come up with lies on the fly.

“A petting zoo?” Another girl ask, her hair dyed red and tied into several braids. “Why is she all pink?”

“Uh,” The gears in Anon’s head stalled. He should’ve said she was from the circus. What petting zoo dyes their animals fur? Anon helplessly looked at Pinkie, as though she could give him answers. Instead, she just smiled her dopey smile.

“Well, the zoo originally bought her from the circus. When they dyed her fur, the solution never came out. She was a real hit with the kids!” Anon chuckled nervously, hoping that would suffice. He shifted his foot slightly ajar when denim girl spoke up again.

“Is she an ESA?” Denim questioned.

“Yes!” Anon nearly blurted out. “That’s why...my grandmother gifted her to me. I have anxiety problems and such, so I should really be heading back to my dorm now.” He turned on his heels, ready to bolt, when Denim Girl interjected yet again.

“Wait, but what’s the cutie’s name?”

“It’s, er, uh...” Anon looked at the pony, still smiling oblivious. “Pink...ie. Pie.”

“You know, credit where credit is due, her birth name is accurate.” Anon silently agreed with himself, as he took off down the pavement with Pinkie coddled in his arms.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Anon yelled, pacing the room as a glum Pinkie sat on the bed. She twiddled her hooves in fear and shame. “Actually, don’t answer that. I’m sure the answer was poorly.”

“I didn’t think you would worry if I explored your world a bit.” Pinkie mustered the courage to talk back. “You explored ours, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I was sucked in with no way out.” Anon retorted. “And I explicitly didn’t explore. I tried my damndest to remain hidden and did a good job of it.”

Pinkie turned and muttered. “And it made you miserable.”

Anon was taken aback by the aside. Pinkie wasn’t prone to throwing out verbal jabs like that, at least in his vicinity. It took away all of the fire in his voice, leaving him only tired and anxious.

“Fine. Whatever.” Anon distanced himself from the topic. “How many people saw you, besides the girls I caught you with?”

Pinkie put a hoof to her chin and pondered. And pondered. And pondered.

“Goddamnit...” Anon bemoaned into his palms.

“Well how could I not say “Hi” to everyone I met?” Pinkie asked matter-of-factly.

Anon’s eyes widened. “You spoke to them?!”

“What? Oooooh~” Pinkie realized what she had said and chuckled. “No, silly, I didn’t speak to them. I can’t, remember? We’re speaking Ponish right now.” Anon retracted his surprise and in its place took revelation. He hadn’t consciously recognized that he was, in fact, speaking a different language.

Anon also realized that means he was aggressively neighing loud enough for his suite mates to hear.

“Why do I even?” Anon asked himself as he rubbed his temples.

“Even what?”

“Stop.” Anon ceased rubbing and took a deep breath. “New ground rule: You are NOT allowed to leave the dorm unless I am accompanying you. Lord knows you need someone to chaperone you.”

“Wait!” Pinkie practically teetered off the edge of the bed. “You’re allowing me to go outside?!”

“Well, according to you, you’ve already made yourself publicly known.” Anon explained. “Hiding you now would increase suspicion. Besides, I already have an ESA.” Anon nods to his cat sleeping in the corner of the room. “People don’t have to know which is which.”

“In that case,” Pinkie jumped from the bed, running in place. “I overhead that there’s a bakery not too far from here. Let’s go!”

Before Pinkie could leave the room, Anon nonchalantly grabbed her tail, stopping her in her tracks.

“No, I’m going back to bed.” Anon demanded. “You’ve cost me enough sleep as it is.”

Pinkie checked the clock. “But it’s only 2:15?”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Anon crawled into bed, exhausted from the day’s shenanigans. He didn’t even bother to pull the covers over himself as he laid on the bed, eyes closed in a vain attempt to pass out.

“Um, Nonny?” Pinkie asked, her tone sheepish.

“What?”

“Are the mares in your world usually so...endowed?”

Anon slowly rose from the bed, enough to look down at a blushing red Pie.

“I beg your pardon?” Anon borrowed an Applejack fav of expressing confusion.

“What I mean is, those other mares had...you know...” Pinkie gestured to her chest, as if carrying two bags of sad. “I’ve never seen mares with such large, soft-“

“Goodnight, Pinkie.” Anon laid face first in his pillow, desperately attempting to ignore the mental image of Pinkie motor-boating Denim Girl.

“But it’s 2-“

“GOODNIGHT, PINKIE!”

Some sleeping dogs just can’t lie

Avon sat in Sugar Cube Corner’s main lobby. Celestia steadily dragged the sun beneath a he horizon. Like a mother smothering an unwanted child beneath the waves of a kiddie pool.

“Woah, that was kinda dark.” He remarked to himself in a low mumble. He couldn’t help the intrusive metaphors and similes. It was a cope, a means to letting some air out of the tires. Only, it also serves the dual purpose of reinforcing those same tires. Cest la vie.

“Uh oh.” If Avon had ears like the ponies, they’d have perked up and swiveled to the bubbly bartender of his milkshakes. “That’s your ‘I’m bein’ a real grumpy grump pants today’ face.”

Pinkie slid into the seat in front of. Despite this, Avon didn’t meet her gaze. We’re this a few years ago, Ponk would’ve bounced around the store, cracked a ton of jokes, perhaps even fired a round out of the party cannon. Anything to try and get a smile out of him.

However, they’ve since developed a system between the two of them.

Pinkie reached a good over the table, lightly pushing Avon’s head backwards so that she could look him in the eyes. She met his distant gaze with her baby blues, batting her eyelids a couple times.

“Come on~! You can tell your Auntie Pie what’s wrong.” She teased. Avon’s brow furrowed.

“You aren’t that’s much older than me, ya know.” He replied, only met with snickers and snorts.

Pinkie has learned, through trial and error, the quickest way to get Avon to open up. Paradoxically, by teasing him with little things like age difference or how he sits or what faces he makes. It disarms him, forces him out of his comfort zone of seriousness and malaise.

“I don’t know.” Avon said, letting the heat from his cheeks simmer down. “Have you…” The question sputtered dead, before suddenly coming to life again.

“Have you ever felt like it’s too late for you?”

Pinkie cocked her head to one side, like a puppy confused as to why his master thought it was a good idea to use a belt as a necktie and a ceiling fan for neck support. Sorry, unwarranted asides again.

“What are you too late for?” Pinkie asked thoughtfully.

“I don’t know. I guess, a lot of things really. Too late to be an artist. Or too late to make friends. Or too late to find a purpose in life, like a reason for existing.”

“Nonny, it’s not too late for any of that!” Pinkie waved the thought away. “You’ve already made friends with the girls and I-“

“Yeah, yeah.” Avon cut her off. “But no. I mean that I think I’ve given up already. I have arbitrarily decided that this is as far as I go. No new friends, no new dreams, no new nothing. This is where the road ends. With me sitting in silence, left to the sounds of the clock ticking away until my heart stops.”

“I don’t think any of that is true at all!” Pinkie objected, striking the table. “You haven’t given up! You’re still here doing…uh, things!”

“Yup. Things. Lots of things. Many, many things. Things done purely out of obligation. To you, I might add.”

“Well, I think doing things for thing’s sake is a good thing. A noble thing! Wow, that’s a lot of things.” She contemplated the air, as though she could read the very text of the conversation.

“Mhm.” Avon rubbed the table with a finger, tracing circles into the surface. Pinkie, meanwhile, tapped a hoof to her chin. Then, a lightbulb illuminated behind her wide eyes.

“I got it!” Pinkie exclaimed, slamming the table a second time with more force. “Maybe the things your doing now should be different things!”

“Are you still on the “thing” thing? That joke has been played out.”

Pinkie put a hoof to Avon’s lips. “Hush. What we need is to bring you back to your roots! To show you that these things have meaning and you’re not too late to find them!”

“And what exactly are my roots, Pinkie?” Avon questioned, his interest having been piqued by the curious mare.

Pinkie rhythmically tapped her hooves together, making an ominous “clop” each time. This was made the more unnerving by a Cheshire grin. “I’ve got a few ideas…”

Author's Note

Expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed.

Rain

2:18. Rain poured down onto the grass, asphalt, and gravel. Anon stared out the window. It was one of those sleepless nights, where the sandman didn’t care to visit Anon or answer his calls.

Anon watched the raindrops race down his window pane. He observed the raindrops split and merge and fall all the way to the bottom. Drop after drop made the plunge.

A sudden thunder roared in the distance. As it erupted, it interrupted Anon’s thoughts. Or, lack thereof. He stirred in bed. For a moment, he forgot which world he was in. At this point, Earth and Equestria had become intertwined. He would see Pegasi over the Chesapeake Bay and automobiles in Manehattan.

Blinking a few times, he discovered he was in fact he was in his dorm. It wasn’t like it was his sight that told him though. It was more so that he just grew aware. The only light in the room was the streetlights out the window.

Anon went to stretch his arms over his head. His right arm rubbed against the window, as he was pressed against the bedside window. His left arm, however, was weighed down. Perplexed, he casted a glance at his immobilized arm.

A pink, fluffy haired mare had a pretty tight grip around it. Like a teddy bear, she had her forelegs wrapped around Anon’s arm. She breathed slowly, clearly in the thralls of REM sleep. Anon could even see the twitching under her eyelids.

Anon reached his right hand to her stroke her mane. With his index and thumb, he lightly pinched and rubbed the bubblegum hairs. Anon could feel the prehensile hairs wrap along his fingers, like a boa constrictor wrapping prey. One of the mare’s many mysteries. He slowly pulled his finger away, the hair unwrapping in submission.

Another thunderous roar, another empty train of thought derailed. Anon rubbed his eyes of fatigue and laid back against the window. Passively, he used his left hand to rub the mare’s stomach. The fur, the warmth, the sense of being underneath gave him a tiny sliver of a smile.

He continued to trace the paths of the raindrops through the night.

Author's Note

A verbal doodle.