I woke up to a sharp ray of sunlight slicing across my face. Groaning, I turned my head, burrowing deeper into the warmth beneath me. My ‘pillow’ was strangely soft, yet firm, radiating a comforting heat that made it all too easy to ignore the world outside.

Then, the pillow shifted.

“Mmmph,” it moaned.

My half-asleep brain barely registered it as odd. I sighed contentedly, nuzzling closer into its warmth, my body refusing to acknowledge anything that might pull me out of this cozy, warm, and comfortable cocoon. If only this other heavy weight cuddling my chest—that one cold and oddly solid—would move.

Just as I teetered on the edge of falling back into the dreamworld, something creaked open with an obnoxiously loud groan, and sunlight flooded the room in earnest.

“Rise and shine, younglings!” Cloudy Quartz’s voice rang out like a thunderclap.

“Gah!” I bolted upright, my body moving before my brain caught up.

“Wha—Mom?!” came a familiar voice beneath me, groggy but unmistakably mortified. I glanced down.

Oh, fuck.

The ‘pillow’ I had been so affectionately snuggling was Limestone. And judging by the sheer horror on her face and the… less-than-innocent state of the bed, it didn’t take a genius to piece together what had happened.

All that was missing was a neon sign flashing ‘We Had Sex Last Night’ in bold letters with an arrow pointing directly at us.

Limestone scrambled to grab the nearest sheet, yanking it up as her face turned a shade of red I hadn’t thought possible for her.

Meanwhile, I realized with growing panic that, while ‘mini-me’ had returned to its nest, the… evidence of his last conquest remained painfully obvious on my lower body. I clamped my hooves over the offending area, praying to every higher power I knew that Cloudy hadn’t noticed.

But she had.

Her nose wiggled slightly as if catching a whiff of something unmistakable. For a horrifying moment, I thought she might call us out on it, but instead, she smiled—a soft, knowing smile that somehow made everything worse.

“Breakfast be waitin’ for ye both inside,” she said, her voice unusually chipper. “But clean yerselves up beforehoof, hmm?”

She glanced at Limestone, then at me, her eyes twinkling with barely concealed amusement.

I stood frozen, my mind racing for any kind of response. Apology? Denial? Maybe throwing myself out the window? But nothing came out.

Then, her gaze shifted back to the mattress, and her eyes lit up.

“Oh! There be Boulder. Sneaky little thin’, ye.” She trotted toward the bed, completely ignoring our mortified faces. “Maud’s been lookin’ for ye all mornin’.”

My brain short-circuited. Boulder?

She reached down and plucked a familiar gray rock off the mattress.

The cold, heavy weight I’d felt earlier.

The cold, heavy rock I’d been cuddling.

I blanched at the realization. I had been spooning Maud’s pet rock. Somehow, the indignity of that was almost worse than the horrid situation we were already in.

Cloudy didn’t seem to notice—or care—about the growing horror on our faces as she simply placed Boulder onto her back, before turning to us with that same cheerful expression.

“Don’t take too long now,” she said lightly as if everything about this situation were perfectly normal. With that, she trotted out, the door squeaking shut behind her.

The silence that followed was… oh my god, who am I kidding? I want to fucking die.

I slumped back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. “T-This cannot be real life.”

Under the sheets, Limestone groaned, her voice muffled. “Kill me. Kill me right now.”

“Limestone. She knows,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

“Don’t,” she groaned, her face buried in the pillow as if trying to block out the conversation entirely. “Just… don’t.”

I turned toward the window, the cottage in the distance, its simple wooden frame now feeling like the gateway to my fucking doom.

“Your father’s gonna kill me.”

Limestone sighed, the sound heavy and resigned. “No, he won’t. And mom’s not the type to spill the beans. But, uh… prepare to be talked to. A lot.”

Right. Right. She wasn’t angry. In fact, she seemed… happy. But why?

I glanced back at Limestone, my mind spinning. Something about this whole situation had been gnawing at me ever since I’d…well pushed myself into their lives. From day one, Cloudy had treated me like I was part of the family. Welcoming, warm… almost too warm.

Sure, some folks were just friendly, but there was something else here—something I couldn’t just ignore any longer. I’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice.

And I knew I wasn’t the first two.

“Why is she so… happy about it? About us?” I asked, looking at Limestone, trying to make sense of it all.

Limestone shifted, her face still half-hidden in the pillow. “Mom is… concerned. About me. About all of us, really. She’s the type that wants grandfoals, and, well, we’re not exactly living in the kind of place where you meet a lot of stallions.”

“Right. Remote rock farm,” I said, nodding slowly.

She snorted, sitting up slightly. “Exactly. It doesn’t help that she… noticed I had, uh… interest.”

I blinked. “So… I’m basically the first guy to show up in years?”

Limestone’s eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing as she let out an irritated huff. “…Yes.”

Her expression was a mix of exasperation and annoyance, like I’d just stated the obvious in the most aggravating way possible.

“I’m not easy, though,” she added, glaring at me.

“Never said you were,” I replied, throwing her a cheesy grin that probably wasn’t helping my case. “Though last night definitely confirmed the interest part.”

Her glare intensified, and for a split second, I thought she might actually throw something at me. Instead, her face flushed a deep red, and she crossed her forelegs tightly over her chest, looking away with a frustrated groan.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, but the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.

I chuckled, my gaze flicking around the shed. Then, a thought struck me. My voice dropped as I pointed toward the flimsy wooden walls. “Do you think… they heard us?”

Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She followed my hoof with a horrified look.

“Buck,” she muttered.

They absolutely heard us.

We scrambled to clean up the shed as quickly as possible, focusing on the disaster zone that was the mattress. Thankfully, most of the mess was contained there and after a frantic, sneaky dash to the bathroom and an equally frantic cleaning session, we finally found ourselves at the dining table.

The entire family was there, but the usual calm, serene atmosphere was gone.

Igneous wasn’t even touching his rock pancakes. Instead, he gripped the table like it had personally offended him. His hooves pressed so tightly into the wood I half-expected it to crack. His eyes never left me, boring into my soul like he was weighing the pros and cons of murder. And given the circumstances, murder was probably winning.

Marble wasn’t much better. Her coat had taken on a faint pink hue, the tips of her ears and cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She kept darting glances around the room, never once letting her gaze linger on me or Limestone. Her head moved so much it was like she was watching a high-intensity tennis match.

Maud, in contrast, was as calm as ever. Her breakfast sat untouched, and she was meticulously scrubbing Boulder in his tiny bubble bath. Her sponge moved with almost robotic precision, and every so often, she’d glance up at me—just long enough to remind me I was being judged—before returning to her task. Somehow, it felt like Boulder was being cleaned extra thoroughly.

Pinkie Pie, of course, was completely unaffected. She chattered away at full speed, her pancakes towering precariously in front of her, slathered in syrup. Between bites, she grinned and laughed, seemingly oblivious to the thick tension choking the rest of the table.

Cloudy Quartz, however, was the wild card. She looked the same as usual, calm and composed, but her demeanor felt… lighter. She was actively engaging in Pinkie’s bubbly conversation, her tone almost too cheerful. Every so often, though, she’d glance at me and Limestone, her eyes sparkling with a satisfaction that screamed, I know, and I approve.

“…and then I was like, ‘Who did-done-dood it?!’” Pinkie’s voice cut through the awkwardness like such a thing didn’t even exist. “I might be a party pony, but dessert? That’s serious business! Oh, that reminds me! Obby!”

“Y-Yes?” I flinched, caught off guard by her sudden attention.

“I need your help with something super duper important! Think you can help me?”

“Yes!” I said, far too quickly. Anything to escape the table. Anything to escape Igneous’ murder eyes.

Pinkie beamed. “I knew I could count on you! Sooooo, here’s the deal! I never go anywhere without my party cannon, right? But, um, the last one sorta—kinda—hehe—got a little smashed in a scuffle with some changelings! BUT guess what?! Lucky me, I totally left my spare in the shed! Could you grab it for me? Pretty please…?”

She batted her eyelashes at me, giving me those big, doe-eyed puppy dog eyes…

Wait... That huge thing was hers?!

I tried to keep my composure, though my brain was doing acrobatics and the sheer overload of cuteness she was throwing my way certainly wasn’t helping. “Uh… sure. It might take a while, though. There’s… a lot of stuff in the shed.”

Pinkie waved her hoof dismissively. “No problemo! Dad can go with you! Right, Dad?”

My blood turned to ice.

Anything but that.

I tried to backpedal before my brain fully realized what was happening. “I don’t think—”

“Excellent idea, Pinkamena,” Igneous spoke, his voice calm but razor-sharp.

He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. His grin stretched unnervingly wide, his eyes gleaming with a look that could only be described as feral.

“Don’t worry, son,” he said, the word son dripping with venom. “I’ll help ye.”

Oh fuck.

My head snapped to the side, panic clear in my eyes as I silently called out for help to Limestone. HELP ME.

For a moment, I thought my prayers might be answered. She started to rise, but before she could utter a word, Cloudy’s voice rang out.

“Limestone, honey, I need to have a word with ye. Meet me in the kitchen?”

Limestone froze. Her face went pale as she processed her mother’s words. Slowly, stiffly, she nodded and stood to follow Cloudy into the kitchen.

Welp. There goes my only help.

I swallowed hard as Igneous motioned for me to follow. His steps were measured, his posture calm, but every fiber of my being screamed.

Please, God, if you’re out there—from any universe—don’t let me die in the same shed I just had sex in.

The awkwardness was unbearable. Each step I took felt heavier than the last as we made our way to the shed. My thoughts kept spinning like a broken record. Did Limestone and I clean up enough? Did we miss something? The mattress was gone, but what if…?

I snuck a glance at Igneous, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say a word, just trotted ahead, steady and calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that made your skin crawl because it was impossible to tell what was going on behind those eyes.

Where was that anger from a few minutes ago? Was he silently judging me? Plotting how to bury me under a pile of rocks? Or maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for the right moment to explode.

The shed loomed closer, its door a reminder of my questionable life choices. By the time we reached it, my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.

But Igneous didn’t stop. He pushed the door open with a slow deliberate creak and stepped inside.

The first thing I did was brace for the worst—a lingering scent, some horrible, incriminating detail we’d overlooked. But the air was fresh, cool even, thanks to the open window Limestone had left. A soft breeze rustled through the shed, carrying the smell of dirt.

Thank God for her quick thinking.

Still, my eyes darted to where the mattress had been, a phantom outline burned into my memory. It was gone, sure, but the mere thought of Igneous knowing what had happened there made my stomach twist.

“Let’s get to it,” Igneous said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, almost unnervingly so.

“…Right.” I nodded, trying to sound just as composed.

As we moved deeper into the shed, daylight streamed in, casting long beams across the chaos that had been shrouded in shadow the night before. The walls were lined with mining tools—pickaxes and helmets—jumbled together with holiday banners and sagging deflated balloons. Shelves groaned under the weight of mismatched items: chipped lanterns, coils of rope, and heaps of brightly colored party supplies. Let me tell you, mining equipment and party accessories don’t exactly go together, and Pinkie’s spare party cannon was the clear winner to this chaotic mess at the far end of it all.

The thing was massive, almost comical in its absurdity. I had no idea how we were supposed to get it out of here without rearranging half the shed.

Igneous didn’t waste any time; as soon as we stepped inside, he began clearing a path. I followed his lead, moving boxes and stray gear out of the way, careful not to knock anything over.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. My nerves were on edge, every glance at Igneous felt like the last before calm finally gave way to the storm.

He wasn’t angry anymore. Not outwardly, anyway. But the silence was loud enough to be deafening, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last. Would we really just… work in silence? No confrontation? No awkward conversation?

I’m not sure if the silence is worse than just getting it over with.

This couldn’t last. There was no way we’d get through this without him saying something. Right?

“Ye gonna leave her here with a broken heart, ain’t ye?” Igneous’ voice finally cut through the silence like a blade.

I froze mid-reach, my hoof hovering over a dusty box labeled ‘Party Accessories and Other Fun Stuff’. “What?”

“Ye heard me,” he said evenly, not even sparing me a glance as he moved a wooden cart out of the way.

“You mean Limestone? We’re… not together,” I stammered, my throat suddenly dry.

He snorted. “Sure as Tartarus didn’t sound like that last night.”

I cringed so hard I thought my spine might snap in two. My ears burned, and I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

You know what? Just let Igneous kill me now. It’d be easier than this conversation.

“Last night… was…” I fumbled, my words tripping over themselves and dying in my throat.

“Listen here, son,” he interrupted, finally turning to face me. His scary expression from this morning at the table was back. “We be not colts anymore. Ye bucked my daughter. That be done. Ain’t my place to interfere with her choices. My job be to guide her, not control her.”

I sputtered, completely taken aback by his bluntness. It wasn’t like I expected a comforting fatherly chat, but this was on a whole other level.

“Yer little love makin’ be not my problem with ye,” he continued. “As hard as it be fer me to say, ye’re… an alright stallion. And ye obviously like her more than just her flanks.”

Holy shit what’s happening right now.

He took a step toward me. Then another. And another, until he was standing right beside me. Before I could react, he raised a hoof, pointed it at me, and tapped sharply my shoulder.

“No.” He growled. “My problem be that yer leavin’.” His voice dropped lower. “Why are ye leadin’ her on?”

The last word landed with a thud in my chest. And somehow, it stopped me. For the first time since this morning, my fear shifted into something else—something more like defiance.

“I am not leading her on,” I growled back, the words coming out more forceful than I expected as I slapped his hoof away. “And how the hell do you even know I’m leaving?”

Igneous let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ye hit yer head on a rock or what? Ye told us yerself. Ye know, the day ye forced yer way into my home.”

I stared back at him unflinching. He was kinda right on that point. I did sorta force myself into his home. But where was he going with this? “What about it?”

He raised a skeptical brow, fixing me with a piercing stare that felt like it could peel back every excuse I had. “Some might call me grumpy and set in my ways, but I ain’t blind.” He tapped a hoof to his temple for emphasis. “I watched ye those first few days on the farm. Ye’re a hard worker, I’ll give ye that. But ye didn’t enjoy it. Not one bit.”

“Hard to enjoy it when you’re the one giving instructions,” I shot back before I could stop myself.

He huffed. “Don’t try to be clever with me, I see it clear as day—ye’ve got a goal, somethin’ ye’re chasin’. It ain’t here. And it ain’t her.”

I stayed silent, my gaze locked with his. A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and I finally broke eye contact, looking away.

“She knew.”

“She did?” Igneous repeated, his tone skeptical, almost disbelieving. “And ye both still…”

“Listen, we…” I hesitated, my mind flashing back to Limestone’s face—her mix of sadness and… something else. She tried to brush it off, but even I could see the hurt lingering beneath the surface. “We both know what we’re getting out of this.”

Igneous was quiet for a long moment, his gaze narrowing as he studied me like a rock waiting to be cracked open. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned back to work. “Well, fer yer sake, I hope that be true. ‘Cause if ye’re lyin’ to yerself—or worse, to her—ye’ll regret it more than ye know.”

His words hung in the air, and I found myself at a loss for how to respond.

“Now that I’ve done my job as her father and reigned in my darker thoughts about ye, we can keep goin’.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. “What?”

He frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. It be called a joke, son.”

“Well, it wasn’t funny,” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he barked, his voice rough but with a glimmer of amusement beneath it. “Didn’t know the colt here was such a connoisseur of humor.”

I couldn’t help the small snort that slipped out. Despite myself, I stepped forward to help him push a particularly heavy crate. “Here, let me help out, gramps.”

Igneous grunted in response—whether in acknowledgment of the joke or simply because I offered help, I couldn’t tell.

We fell back into our rhythm, the sound of our hooves scraping over the floor and crates shifting breaking the silence between us. But there was something he said earlier that stuck with me.

“Hey, uh… I never apologized,” I began, my voice tentative.

He stopped mid-push, glancing back at me with a raised brow. “For which one, exactly?”

I gave a half-hearted snort, my lips twitching in a weak attempt at a smile. “For forcing myself into your home that first day. I was out of line, and… I’m sorry.”

Igneous straightened up, brushing some dust off his foreleg as he looked at me squarely. “Took ye long enough. ‘Better late than never,’ some ponies say, but I ain’t some pony.” He turned back to our forming path with a grunt, shoving another box aside. “If ye think that little apology’s gonna win me over, ye can keep on pushin’.”

I glanced at the next obstacle: a stack of rolled-up banderols teetering on the edge of a crate. Gently, I eased them down, rolling them aside before I spoke. “Look, I’m not saying this to win you over, or to get on your good side. We don’t have to like each other, and, honestly? I’m okay with that.”

I hesitated, taking a breath to steady myself before continuing. “But I don’t want you to see me as the enemy here. Even if I’m leaving—” My throat tightened, and for a moment, I had to force the words out. “I care about your family. I care about her. That’s the truth.”

Igneous kept silent, his gaze fixed on the clutter in front of him. But I knew he was listening. He’d stopped pushing, his hooves still, and one ear flicked subtly in my direction.

I exhaled shakily, pressing on. “Watching you all... working together, sharing a meal—hell, just being with each other…” I paused, the next words stuck in my throat. “I’m not sure what kind of son I’d be if I just didn’t at least try to go back. My parents...” My chest tightened, and I swallowed, forcing my voice to steady. “I owe them more than just an empty coffin. I owe them... something. Something that says I’m still here. That I’m still alive. That I didn’t just… disappear.”

Igneous kept his gaze fixed ahead, though the slight droop of his ears betrayed that my words had struck a chord. Before I could say anything more, he stepped further into the shed, his attention drawn to a particular box. This one stood out from the rest, its surface adorned with colorful, childlike drawings. It didn’t take long to recognize the unmistakable style of its original owner.

“Every parent worth their name wants their foal to be happy,” Igneous said, his voice calm yet weighted. He paused in front of the box, his hoof reaching out to trace one of the crayon-scrawled pictures. “It be a parent’s job. It be as much their purpose as it be their joy... even when that happiness takes them far away.”

His hoof lingered for a moment before he slowly turned to face me. His eyes, typically so stoic and impenetrable, now carried a glimmer of something different—raw, almost vulnerable.

“It ain’t easy, though,” he continued, meeting my gaze. “Yer situation… it be a parent’s worst nightmare. Watchin’ a part of yer family vanished like that, wonderin’ if they’re safe, or if they’ll come back.” He trailed off, his jaw tightening briefly, as though holding back something deeper. “It gnaws at yer insides. But don’t go thinkin’ you owe ‘em some perfect closure, some neat little send-off. Yer own life—what be left of it—be yers to live.”

He paused, his gaze drifting back to the colorful box. “No. Ye got yer own journey to make, and that be the hardest thing a parent has to learn—that sometimes, ye gotta let ‘em go.”

After a short silence, he coughed awkwardly, shifting his stance as if shaking off the moment. His eyes flicked back to the clutter ahead.

“Let’s get that cannon.”

“Right.”

It took us longer than I’d care to admit, but by the time Cloudy came by at noon with a snack, we were making decent progress. All things considered, it turned into—dare I say it—a surprisingly enjoyable experience. We weren’t exactly pals, not by a long shot, but the tension that had hung over us since our very first meeting had finally evaporated.

In its place were bad jokes and some playful, barely veiled insults. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

We managed to finish just before the afternoon slipped away completely. Who would’ve thought I’d actually enjoy spending time with Igneous, of all ponies?

As we pushed the ridiculous contraption that was Pinkie’s cannon into place, I noticed her standing by the entrance of the cottage. The sight of her grinning, her whole face lit up with joy, was like an explosion of energy.

“Oh! Obby, Dad! You got it! Thank you so very much!” Pinkie practically shouted. Before I could react, she was already zipping past us, giving her father a hug first, then leaping toward me to wrap me in one too.

“You’re welcome, Pinkie,” I muttered, my expression a mix of surprise and awkwardness. Apart from Limestone, hugging other ponies was still a weird experience for me.

Before I could say anything more, Pinkie was already darting behind her cannon, rolling it toward the entrance with the same speed and enthusiasm that she did everything else.

“So, what are you gonna do with it?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. Would she really drag that massive thing all the way to Ponyville?

Pinkie just grinned at me, and I could see the mischievous spark in her eyes. Without warning, she spun the cannon to face me, and I barely had time to react before she hopped on top of it, giving it a little slap for good measure.

“I thought you’d never ask!” she beamed, as the cannon let out a roar that made me jump. Confetti and streamers exploded out of it, filling the air. Somehow, the door to the cottage swung open, releasing a flood of balloons and ribbons, while a huge banner unfurled above the house with bold letters reading: ‘WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA OBBY!!!’

My jaw dropped. “W-What?” I stammered, utterly dumbfounded by the spectacle unfolding before me.

Pinkie stood triumphantly on the cannon, grinning like a kid on her birthday. “Welcome to your first proper Equestria party, Obby!” She threw her hooves up like she’d just won a championship, and her smile practically lit up the entire field.

“That’s… When did you…?” I sputtered, my hoof waving in disbelief at the now-over-the-top decorations. My mind still wasn’t fully processing what had just happened.

“Oh, that was easy-peasy!” Pinkie replied with a casual wave like it was nothing. “We used the time while you and Dad were out looking for the cannon to get everything set up!”

Before I could even respond, she zipped past both Igneous and me, practically shoving us into the cottage like we weighted nothing. I stumbled slightly but regained my balance, finally noticing the party atmosphere inside.

Limestone was standing near a table piled with cupcakes and cider, giving me a half-smile—her usual tough exterior softened just a little. Marble was peeking out from behind her, shy but smiling, and Maud was off to the side, her usual neutral expression in place, though I noticed she was sporting a party hat—one on her head, and one on Boulder’s rock.

Igneous, as if completely unfazed by the chaos, had already joined Cloudy, taking his place at the table like this was all just a normal Tuesday.

“Are you happy?” Pinkie’s voice snapped me back to reality. Her eyes were sparkling, wide with excitement, and she was practically vibrating with joy as she awaited my response.

I blinked, still trying to take it all in. “Uh... Yeah. I think I’m in shock.”

Pinkie let out a delighted squeal, throwing her forelegs around me in a hug that nearly knocked me off my hooves. “I knew it! Nopony can resist a Pinkie Pie party!”

The genuine happiness in her voice washed over me like a wave. For a moment, I let all my problems and doubts vanish, replaced by the simple joy of being welcomed.

"Alright, alright," Limestone grumbled from across the room, though her smirk betrayed her. "Don’t suffocate the guy, Pinkie."

Pinkie gasped theatrically. “Me? Suffocate Obby? Never! I’m just giving him the best hug ever!” She gave me one final squeeze before releasing me with a giggle. “Oops. Hehe, maybe I did get a teeny-tiny bit too excited.”

I stepped back, catching my breath and giving her a small, appreciative smile. “It’s alright. Um… thanks, Pinkie.”

Her grin somehow grew even wider. “No problem at all! That’s what friends are for, right?”

Author's Note

Hi.

Sorry for the long delay. My motivation took a bit of a dive before the holidays and took its sweet time coming back. And 2025… well, it started off a little rough for me.

But I’m back now and the next chapter should be up much sooner.

Thanks for reading!