I got out of bed at 6:30 a.m., freezing my balls off because I left the window open last night. I let out a shudder as I turned off my alarm. “God, it’s cold in here.”
A voice from my bed gets my attention. “Do you want me to warm those up for you?” I turned to see Pinkie patting my recently vacated spot. “I know a good trick that’ll work real fast,” she said as she licked her lips.
I smiled and shook my head, sorry to decline the offer – especially since Private was playing Revile already. “After missing the bus yesterday, I don’t think I can risk wasting any time. Besides,” I said, “we wouldn’t want to wake anyone else up.” She followed my gaze to the adorable gray filly whose head was poking from under her Steelers blanket. Her slow, steady breathing caused the blanket to rise and fall. I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, causing her to twitch slightly while remaining asleep. I stood back up and began gathering my clothes. I grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a red T-shirt, plus the *ahem* necessities.
Pinkie followed me downstairs and into the kitchen. As usual, it was already occupied when I passed through. Vinyl Scratch was eating a waffle, her shades on the table revealing her rubies. Octavia was writing on a blank music sheet, apparently composing her next imaginary symphony. Rainbow was flying lazily around the pan rack hanging from the ceiling. Big Macintosh was sitting in a chair à la Lyra, with Fluttershy sitting on his equivalent of a lap. I smiled at them; of all the couples my mind generated, Fluttershy and Macintosh definitely earned the award for cutest. “Morning everypony,” I greeted the false crowd. Octavia returned the salute with a wave of her hoof while Vinyl just nodded her head. ‘Shy and Mac stopped their cuddling to say, “Good morning” and “Mornin’,” respectively. Rainbow Dash just kept flying around – she still hadn’t fully recovered from the forceful and repeated rape my alternate personality had given her last week, and thus she remained relatively silent. I knew she’d feel better later in the day, though, so I didn’t let her lack of responsiveness faze me.
Continuing from my kitchen, I maneuvered my way through the dining room, foyer, and the hallway leading to my ultimate destination: the bathroom. I did, however, catch a glimpse of Rarity doing… dressy stuff, I assumed, in my mother’s sun room. Pinkie headed off to see the fancy unicorn as I locked the bathroom door behind me. I proceeded with my morning ritual of shower, clothe, and deodorize. Replacing my glasses and drying off my brown hair, I exited the bathroom and returned to the kitchen. Rarity and Pinkie Pie had rejoined the rest of my imagination and were talking to one another next to the island. The stovetop clock read 7:02, but I knew it was ahead by about eight minutes. Either way, I realized I would be late if I didn’t haul ass.
I rushed up the steps two at a time and headed to my room. While incredibly messy, I – like any good teenager – knew just what was where. I grabbed my 3DS and cell phone and tossed them into my nearby bookbag. I glanced at the duplicate Octavia sleeping on the floor – the fillified one. After reading “My Little Dashie,” my mind was bound to recreate the scenario. The twist came in the form of Octavia rather than Dash, but I began to raise her all the same. She was beginning to wake up, but I didn’t have time for parenting – one of the others would fill in for me. I took my belt and jacket off my random IV pole and put them in their usual positions around my waist and shoulders. Picking up my bag, I ran down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the door. Pinkie ran after me at the last second, shouting, “See ya later!” to her friends.
After successfully missing my bus and hitchhiking on another one, I made it to school where I saw my friend, Jaden Britecrest, sitting in the cafeteria. I sat down next to him and we began to BS about our Dungeons and Dragons campaign, which Pinkie Pie showed her support for in the form of a sign reading “Geeks” and a pair of arrows indicating Jaden and myself. Oh, Pinkie, I thought, smiling inwardly.
The bell for first period rang, and Jaden and I parted ways. Pinkie and I headed up to my least favorite class – Spanish – and managed to start a conversation, for which I received many odd looks from students who did not recognize me.
“I just said ‘Butterflies should be able to fly!’”
“Pinks, Mrs. Green is a fifty-something year old woman who was wearing a butterfly costume when she fell down the stairs. While your statement is true, it’s irrelevant. She’s just old and stupid.” I took my seat in said flightless teacher’s class. Surprisingly, Mrs. Green put on a video – an action that is reasonable for end-of-the-year time killing, but not for Green herself. When I pointed this out to Pinkie, she said, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” She always found joy in such humorously ironic sayings. I took a quick look around me to ensure no one was looking, then I stole a kiss from the sweet mare’s lips. “Mmm… Tastes like cotton candy.”
Pinkie Pie blushed and smiled, then she closed her eyes and nestled her head into the crook of my neck. I gently laid my head on her springy pink mane, giving zero fucks whether or not people saw. We held the embrace for a moment, enjoying the sound of each other’s heartbeats.
“Will everyone please stand for the pledge to the flag?” Mr. Pergola’s semi-nasally voice interrupted over the PA system. Pinkie pulled away from me so that I could comply with the God-voice. She waited while I expressed my patriotism, then sat on my lap as I retook my seat. I paid next to no attention to the announcements as I stroked Pinkie’s mane. Upon the bell ringing, we headed out to Mrs. Mills’ anatomy class as she made several comments linking anatomy and sex.
When I walked in the room, I was greeted with a flying hug by Little Tavi. “Daddy! Happy! Happy?” Her infantile grammar was utterly adorable. I interpreted her words to mean, “Daddy, I’m happy to see you! Are you happy to see me, too?” to which I snuggled her and laughed.
“Mo, what are you doing?” the teacher called to me. I looked over at him and shifted Tavi to my hip so as to make my unusual arm position more discrete. Most of my friends know about my condition, but my teachers are in constant denial or ignorance of it.
“Er, nothing. Going to my desk,” I covered. I walked past Mills as he gave me and ‘I’m watching you’ sign. That made me chuckle; Mr. Mills was a very funny teacher. I took my seat and placed my invisible adopted daughter in the seat next to me. The seats in front of and diagonally right of mine were occupied by the musical lesbians from my kitchen, Vinyl and Octavia. “Thanks for getting her ready this morning, guys.”
“No probs, man!” was the DJ’s predictable response. “Octavia did most of it anyway.”
The completely canon Octavia blushed as her miniature clone climbed onto her ‘lap,’ saying. “It’s quite easy to get myself ready, Roman.” Despite the recurring joke, I recognized Octavia and Tavi as separate. Tavi even considered Octavia her ‘Mommy.’ Actually, she called everyone in my head Mommy except for Big Macintosh and I. On a somewhat unrelated note, I’ve observed high intelligence in the young filly. She learned several words quite fast and was very observant of her surroundings. She already knew that Vinyl and Octavia, Pinkie and I, and Fluttershy and Big Mac were couples; at least, she knew that we always paired up as such.
Since there were only two other students in the room, I took some time to record the day’s events, which you are reading here. Pinks and the other two sat and chatted about random gibberish, Tavi being passed among them and looking adorable.
Apart from the occasional ‘D’aww’ moment with my filly, nothing eventful happened in Biology, Phys Ed, and English. Several debates came up between the ponies and I, my personal favorite concerning the melodramatic nature of the 1960s Batman, starred by Adam West. Pinkie had fun harassing me about being attracted to my English teacher Ms. Penn. “Hey, what’s weirder – being married to a talking pink horse from a cartoon show or finding my twenty-five year old teacher hot?”
“Dude, quite talking to your ponies. It’s not healthy!” To my right was my trusted friend Christian Jobes. He was leading the crusade against my hallucinations as he had been doing for years. The fact that it was ponies this time just made it easier for him. I suppose I couldn’t really blame him – ponies wouldn’t have been my first choice before I saw MLP.
“Fuck you, Jobes. They makes me happies,” I said jokingly. As per the Bro Code, we were required to slander one another whenever possible. For some strange reason, this results in longer and stronger friendships than women usually have. “You’re just upset ‘cause I’m getting some, even if it’s not real.”
“But it’s PONIES, Roman!”
I smiled. “Doesn’t matter – had sex.” Pinkie, who was following the social banter, began laughing behind me. I paid her no mind. When it didn’t directly involve me showing minor bits of affection, I pretended I couldn’t see things others couldn’t either. It made the days easier.
Christian simply shook his head as we entered the cafeteria. He went off to my old table, but I went to my newer, ‘emptier’ table. There was already a living organism there: Cody Eppers, another good friend. He was one of my Dungeons and Dragons pals, and he completely supported my ‘problem’ with ponies. “Hey Shaggy.” I named him Shaggy upon a prior but sudden realization that he bore a striking resemblance to the hippie-dippie character from the Scooby-Doo cartoon series.
“Hey. Who are we eating with today?” I knew he meant my ponies. I pointed at each chair as they took seats. “Pinks, Scratchie, Octavia, and Lil’ Tavi is sitting in front of you.” Indeed, she was on the table attempting to catch a lock of Cody’s lengthy hair. “She’s fishing again.”
Cody chuckled and obliged, taking a strand and dangling it separate from the rest of his mane. Tavi excitedly grabbed at it, saying, “Uncoow Cody, happy!” indicating her appreciation of his gesture. “She’s happy,” I relayed, chuckling as I did so. I then bought and ate lunch, conversing with Cody throughout the period. We parted ways, and from that point onward the day was dull. Vinyl and Octavia had a minor dispute during Social Studies, though, about whether dubstep or classical was better. They ended up leaving the room to make out.
When I got home, I discarded my school paraphernalia in my room and said goodbye to my mother as she ran out the door. “’Bye! I’m running late! Switch the laundry before you go to bed!” With that, the door shut behind her and she drove off. This left me as alone as I can be.
Fluttershy and Big Mac left the living room as I entered, heading up to my room. I thought I heard Fluttershy say something about knocking before going in. I smiled shamefully, but Pinkie had other plans. “You feel like having fun, too?” she asked me with a devilish grin. I held up my wrist as if to check a watch. “Sure. I’ve got time.”
I lied on the couch, half asleep from the strenuous exercise. A few minutes passed and I heard my sweetheart saw logs. Chuckling, I got up, put away my ‘valuables,’ then got a rag. Sure, Pinkie was the receiver of my load, but she doesn’t really exist, so… I soaked the rag in soapy water and scrubbed the couch between a pair of pink hind legs. A ringing doorbell caught my attention as I tossed the rag in the laundry.
On the other side of the door stood Cody, so I let him in for a while. During his stay, he mentioned his D&D campaign, instigating Pinkie to bring out the sign again after she regained consciousness. Vinyl and Octavia showed up at nearly 4:30 p.m., and they brought Tavi in just as Cody had to leave.
The rest of my evening was relatively boring. I checked a few e-mails, beat the Elite Four on Pokémon White for the sixth time, and ate a few slices of leftover pizza. Fluttershy and Big Mac claimed the sofa as their bed after they finished their romp in my room. Vinyl and Octavia – well, I’m not sure where they sleep, but my brothers sleep in my mom’s room with her. I suspect the two ponies sleep in the older one’s bed; my dad sleeps in my youngest brother’s bed. Alone. He doesn’t have enough room with three others in my mom’s bed.
To cap my night off, I pulled out my 3DS and set it down on its charging dock in my room. I tucked Tavi into her makeshift bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead as she closed her pretty purple eyes. Pinkie snuggled under my comforter and, after surrendering my pants to the laundry, I curled up beside her. “I love you, Pinks,” I whispered.
Her blue eyes locked with mine as she countered me. “I know.” After sharing a few laughs, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against hers. The laughter was instantly cut off, and Pinkie let out a soft moan as our tongues danced passionately. Moments later, I broke for air. Pinkie looked up at me with her adorably innocent eyes. “Goodnight Roman.”
“Goodnight, Pinkie Pie.” I closed my eyes, allowing the world to fade away.
Author's Note
Like I said, I'm an Aspie, not a schizo. This first chapter is just a precursor to my actual journal. The REAL one will be nowhere near this detailed. This one day took me four days to write. It would be far too impractical to write this much for every couple of days.
If you want to talk to the ponies in my head, feel free to PM me. If you need to ask me any questions, feel free to PM me. If you have a personal problem with me and need my address so you know where to send the mob, feel free to restrain yourself.
Depending on the reception of this one chapter, I might not continue. If I DO write more, it will be very different due to changes over time. Thank you everypony! *listening to something behind me* Pinkie thanks you, too.
April 5, 2013
My day started out just like any other. I got out of bed, beat the shit out of my alarm clock in exchange for fifteen minutes of sleep, showered off the funk from the day before – nothing unusual. After the little morning ritual, I returned to my bedroom, my eyes locking on the beautiful form laying in my bed. While many men happily watched their sleeping wives or girlfriends, I had a different gal. Where a spouse would normally be was… well, a spouse. Not a human one, though. Instead of a person, a small, pink pony lay in the bed, the sheets rising and falling as she breathed. So beautiful, my Pinkie Pie.
Next to my bed, there was a small, scrunched up blanket. Beneath it lay a gray filly, her front hooves wrapped around an even smaller brown unicorn colt. Oh Octavia. Fudgeball. If only you two could see how adorable you look. Dismissing the adorable scene, I left my room and shut the door.
I headed downstairs to my kitchen to meet the rest of my dysfunctional little ‘family.’ A blue Pegasus pony trotted through the kitchen. “Morning, Roman,” she said.
“Morning Rainbow Dash. Sleep well?” I asked. She gave me a wave of her hoof – good enough answer for me. I continued through to the dining room, where Rarity was eating what looked like the Rolls-Royce of scrambled eggs. She noticed me and waved a greeting.
“Good morning, Roman!” she chirped. I just grunted. “…Perhaps not. Somepony’s been waiting at the door for you, by the way.”
This caught me off guard. “Huh? It’s seven o’clock in the morning on a weekday!”
“How should I know? Do I look like a secretary?” I opened my mouth to speak before being cut off. “Don’t answer that.”
“Why didn’t they ring the doorbell, then?” I was legitimately curious by now.
Rarity pointed a hoof towards my door. “Why don’t you go see? Prepare yourself, though. We have a new ‘guest.’”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. Thanks Rarity,” I said, rolling my eyes and heading through the foyer to the front door. Flipping the lock, I breathed in slowly to prepare myself for my morning intruder. Then I opened the door. On the other side, standing at a massive three feet tall, was Vinyl Scratch. Something was wrong with the DJ pony, though. The last time she had been in my head, she was taller. And she had goggles on. And her proportions were more balanced. Then it hit me.
“Roman!” she shouted, jumping up and tackling me to the floor. After several moments of struggling, I managed to push the filly off of me. Filly…? Why was Vinyl Scratch a filly? I knew my own Octavia was a filly, but what could that possibly… mean…
“Vinyl, why are you here?” I asked, fearing the worst.
“I’m here to talk to Jared, duh!” she explained as though it were obvious. I realized she was talking to my close friend Jared, a fanfiction author I’d met a considerable time ago. He was a clopper as well, and he frequently chatted with my hallucinations. His favorite had been Vinyl Scratch, but I imagine that he would react differently to her being a filly now. It would mess with his ability to roleplay sex with her.
“Wha-? O-okay, just – keep it together, okay?” I had to lay down the ground rules now. Obedient as Octavia was, I still knew that I had to express my position of power in the house. “I don’t want any funny business, ya got that? I know how you and Jared always acted.”
The white filly stood up and closed her ruby red eyes. “I Pinkie promise!” She crossed her hooves over her heart, made a flapping motion, then poked one of her closed eyes.
I stared at her for a few more moments before relaxing. “…Fine. You can stay with us.” She jumped at the news, but I held my hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, easy now.”
“Thanks Roman! Where’s Octy? I wanna see her!”
This made me suspicious. “She’s sleeping. Why?”
Vinyl’s face became somewhat crestfallen at this. “Oh… Okay…”
“I tell you what: Pinkie Pie brings her to school in the afternoon. You wanna come with me until then?”
“Sure, dude!”
“Don’t call me ‘dude.’” I gave her a stern look before lightening my expression. “Let’s go.”
At the institution of learning known throughout the minds of teenagers everywhere as ‘Hell,’ I was met with a rough surprise. First thing in the morning was a mandatory assembly featuring three stoned rappers. I couldn’t stand the music; it physically hurt my ears. But Vinyl seemed to enjoy it a bit, bobbing her head with the low frequency pulses of ‘music’ blaring through the speakers.
The remainder of the day I spent reigning in the little filly. Pinkie Pie and Octavia showed up in period three, much to Vinyl’s delight. “Octy!” she had said.
“Hi, Vinyl…” Tavi didn’t sound very pleased to see the mini white DJ. She scooted down from her perch atop Lily. Lily was an interesting hallucination. She was pony-based, as all the others were. However, she was half-plant – a maredragora. There was an enormous flower blossoming from her skull, and her tail was a long, slender leaf. Unable to speak, but completely sentient, I decided to keep her as something between a roommate and a pet. Octavia loved her dearly, a feeling that was returned affectionately.
“Come on, that’s no way to treat an old friend!” Vinyl stood on her hind legs, forelegs open wide for a hug.
Seeing Octavia’s disapproving look, I got in the middle. “Yeah, Tavi, give her a hug.”
The cellist rolled her eyes at us, discarding her snobbish attitude and dignity to return the gesture. The two embraced for about five seconds before Tavi dropped her arms. “Pleasure to see you again, Vinyl.”
“You don’t sound it, dude.”
“Don’t call me ‘dude,’ Vinyl.” I chuckled at my daughter’s resemblance to her old man.
At home, nothing happened of consequence. Vinyl Scratch kept trying to interact with Octavia, who kept turning down the offer. As a father of a little filly nearing puberty, I was glad they weren’t too happy with each other. I couldn’t ignore the precedence set forth by the fanbase. Octavia and Vinyl were such a famous couple among the fans, it became part of the personalities created by my subconscious. I feared that it would leak through into their younger selves. It was the only logical reason why my brain had designed her as a filly this time around.
Author's Note
I know I reintroduce things in this chapter; I hadn't planned on keeping the first one. A little bit of reintroduction is required, though, because there have been significant changes since last June. Many of the ponies have vanished, leaving behind only the ones you've read here, plus Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Braeburn.
The maredragora is a creature I read about in a fanfiction called 'Monster Mares.' It can be found on this site. For an image, head over to sirachanotsauce.tumblr.com. It is Not Safe For Woona - consider yourself warned.
Also, I'm shortening the chapters marginally enough that I will be able to write each chapter as a week. Expect nothing from me - journals are not easy to keep.
