>Be Anonymous
>Strolling through the park, getting ready to enjoy a cornbread muffin from Sugar Cube Corner.
>As you lift the delectable overbuttered goodness to your mouth, you hear a whistling through the air that gives you pause.
>It's getting louder.
>And closer.
>You turn just in time to see a pink blur rocket by and smack your hand.
>The world slows to a crawl as you watch your muffin arc through the air, spinning end over end.
>You scream in over dramatic horror as you scramble after it, hands extended.
>It wobbles as it begins its descent, your frantic grasp searching for its flaky crust.
>Miracle of miracles, it lands square in the middle of your palm.
>You rejoice.
>Right up until it bounces back out and smashes to pieces.
>Dropping to your knees, you sob.
>Pinkie walks over and places a hoof on your shoulder.
>Tears in your eyes, you whimper.
"Ponka... why?"
>With a grave scowl, Pinkie sighs.
>"Because someone has to keep an eye on your cholesterol."
>Today was a switch to margarine kind of day.
 
 
 
 
Pinkie Pie: Mistress of Her Domain, Shorts
 
 
>Day 212 in Equestria
>You have just bought yourself breakfast, a banana nut muffin.
>Ever since you got a job, you've been subsisting off these things, putting them away like no one's business.
>But today's different.
>You can't bring yourself to eat it.
>And so you sit in a booth at Sugar Cube Corner, staring at one another.
>Suddenly, the top of the muffin flips back, revealing the air pocketed bread underneath
>"E-e-e-eat meeee-e-e-e."
>A low, gravely voice erupts from the pastry, sending you diving for cover.
>But the muffin won't take no for an answer as it hops off the table and begins pursuit.
>"Eeeeeaaat! Meeeeeeeee!"
>The two of you are attracting a good deal of attention now, as you scream and begin to try and fight the muffin off with a chair.
>With a grace usually reserved for Olympic gymnasts, the muffin leaps through the center of the chair legs, twisting and turning the whole while.
>Sticking the landing, it takes a few quick bounces and stops at your feet.
>For a long moment, it seems to stare at you.
>Caught in it's gaze, you can only stare back.
>"Eat me!"
>The muffin roars, bringing you back to reality.
>With a roar, you lift the chair over your head.
"NEVER!"
>With hardly a sound, the muffin is airborne, on a collision course with your mouth.
>You try to bat it out of the sky, but the baked good seems to wiggle out of your reach.
>And into your gaping maw.
>You gag
>You choke
>You stagger around, clutching your hands to your throat and begging whatever kind deity will take you in to make it stop.
>It claws and wriggles its way down your throat until finally, nothing.
>Your stomach feels bloated, and your face violated, but it's over at least.
>Stumbling to your feet, you lean heavily on the counter and struggle to find your breath.
>A small sign catches your eye.
>'Pinkie Pie's clean plate guarantee'
>'One way or another, it's getting eaten'
>Pinkie saddles up next to you, wiggling her eyebrows.
>"Want another?"
 
 
 
 
 
>It's been three days since the incident at Sugar Cube Corner.
>Some how, some way, Pinkie Pie created a banana nut muffin that forced its way down your throat.
>You haven't eaten since.
>Though it's not for a lack of trying on Pinkie's part.
>The cotton-candy pony bounces along beside you, big blue eyes wide and glimmering with expectation.
>"Y'know Anon, you need to eat. And what better to have in the morning than..."
>She rummages with her hooves behind her back.
>A wide grin spreads across her face as she cuts you off and holds out
>"A breakfast muffin!"
>You stare at the pastry for a moment.
>You can feel your eyes begin to glaze over.
>With an unceremonious shove, you make your way by Pinkie Pie.
"...No."
>No, you've been violated by grains long enough.
>Atkins was right, carbohydrates are bad for you.
>The rapid fire shuffling of hooves rumbles up from behind you.
>Sparing a glance to the side, you see Pinkie, three hooves scuffling against the ground as she holds the muffin out to you again.
>"But"
"No."
>"But!"
"No."
>Gritting her teeth, Pinkie puts on her best smile and gets right up in your face.
>"But I made it for you!"
>You stiff arm the mare, knocking her aside.
"I've had enough muffins for a lifetime, thank you."
>Leaving the pink mare stunned, you make your way to the park and collapse on one of the benches.
>You need to be at work soon, but you're just so drained.
>Maybe you should eat something.
>Staring up at the sky, you don't notice that you're asleep until it's already happened.
>Crap.
>Cracking open your eyes, you notice a slight weight on your leg.
>A quick glance down and
>There is a muffin, staring back at you.
>Devious nuts sprinkled on top.
>Glistening in the morning light.
"No."
>The top pops back, a deep voice grumbling out.
>"Yes."
"No!"
>"Yes!"
"NO!"
>"YESSSSSS!"
>With a wail you try to use your hands to shield your mouth
>The muffin is too fast for your pitiful reflexes.
>Off in the distance, Pinkie laughs.
>Fucking Pinkie Pie.
 
 
 
Filly Pinkie Being Cute - Anonymous Request
 
>You are Anonymous.
>It’s been a long day of rolling boulders and you really just want to sleep.
>After washing off the stink of the day and sharing a meal with the Pies, you get yourself comfortable in bed and sleep like, well, a rock.
>You dream of home, the smell of bacon frying in a pan, of people who you never thought you’d see again.
>Nothing unusual, but you know it’s a dream.
>There’s a faint tickle at the edge of your consciousness, brushing against the soles of your feet but you ignore it, preferring the dreamscape.
>It doesn’t stop at your feet though.
>It wriggles and squirms, making shallow depressions in the bed next to yours as it moves, occasional brushing against you as it climbs ever higher.
>At last, you can’t ignore it any more and, with a sigh, open your eyes.
>Frizzy waves of pink grass whisper together because of your breathing.
>The invader giggles, a telltale sign of who it is, though you look down anyway.
>Pinkie Pie, eyes blue as the sky, wide as the ocean and innocence in motion, stares back at you, smiling.
>Neither of you speak for a long moment, though you note that the frizzy filly has situated her head about level with your chest, separated by only a few inches.
>You can feel her warm, sleepy sighs against your skin.
>“Hi.”
>Pinkie’s voice has taken on a breathy happy tone which, if she wasn’t so physically exhausted, might be seductive but instead comes across as pleased.
“Pinkie, what are you doing?”
>She giggles and scoots closer.
>“Comin to see you.”
>You take the opportunity to put a little distance between you.
>The pink wonder doesn’t like that one bit, and makes it known by chewing on her lower lip.
“But why?”
>“Cause.”
>The two of you engage in another shimmying war, she closing the gap, and you not having any of it.
>At least until you reach the edge of the bed.
>A wide smile overtakes Pinkie as she wriggles forward and buries her face in your chest.
>After a moment of violating your breastbone with her muzzle, she looks up at you and smile.
>“Cause you’re sad, you silly.”
>Sighing into your chest again, she nuzzles your skin and manages to give you a snout full of her frizzy mane in the process.
>It tickles at the inside of your nose, flooding you with scents of bubblegum and sugar.
>Sharing another yawn, Pinkie makes eye contact again.
>“I got this twitch and I knew you were sad.”
>Smacking her lips, she continues.
>“So what makes people happy?”
>Sighing, Pinkie nestles her head back into your chest, practically whispering straight into your heart as she wraps her hooves around your body.
>“Hugs.”
>Speaking of, your love muscle takes that moment to start pounding like a kettle drum.
>That earns another giggle from the frizzy pony.
>“I like the sound you make.  Burmpabrumbrum.”
>The sound of your own heart blasting away in your ears eventually fades into the background, leaving only two sets of breath, nearly synchronized by this point.
>“I know it’s strange to be here all alone, so I’m going to stay with you until you feel better, kay?”
>Her eyes flutter closed as she begins to drift off to sleep.
>The question catches in your throat, but eventually it spills over.
“Why?”
>“Cause you’re my friend.”
>No hesitation, not even for a moment.
>Your fingers twitch as you encircle the much smaller pony in your arms, pressing her body to yours.
>Pinkie gives a grunt of protest, squirms for a few seconds, and then settles down into her new comfort zone.
>You stay up for a few minutes more, listening to the sounds of her breathing matching yours before sleep overtakes you.
>The dreams of home come back again, and the loneliness rears its head.
>But there’s a slight tint of pink now, which makes it seem not so bad.