Thirty Minute Pony Stories

       Two mares sat across from each other at a candlelit table. Conversation stalled, and they looked away, thoughts churning in their heads.

       There’s no way, Twilight thought. She’s amazing, and funny, and kind, and everything that I’m not. It’s just not possible that she could love me too. I’m nobody special, not like her.

       She can’t possibly love me, thought Pinkie. She’s smart, and generous, and kind, and everything that I’ll never be. No matter how much I love her, it doesn’t matter. I’m nobody special, not like her.

       Twilight levitated her water glass and took a sip. The motion drew Pinkie’s attention, and before they knew it, they were staring into each other’s eyes.

       “Twilight, I lo—”

       “Pinkie, I lo—”

       They stopped, startled by the other’s voice. They shuffled nervously on their seats.

       Finally, Pinkie’s hoof tentatively crept across the table. She took a breath. She spoke, her gaze locked on Twilight’s.

       Twilight’s eyes widened, and her hoof reached unbidden to clasp Pinkie’s.

* * *

       Twilight paced in the street in front of Sugarcube Corner, biting her lip and shaking her head, muttering to herself, a quiet argument against her own better judgement. She ignored, and was ignored by, the passers-by.

       Finally she raised her head resolutely, the fear in her eyes mostly hidden behind a determined frown. She pushed the door open, wincing at the cheerful ringing of the bell.

       Behind the counter, Pinkie gasped, a broad grin bursting onto her face, as though Twilight didn’t come by the bakery nearly every day. “Eggplant! Hi!” She hopped over the counter and bounced her way to Twilight, grabbing her in a big hug.

       Twilight forced a smile onto her face, her gut churning. “Hi Bubblegum. I’m here to . . .” A deep breath. “To place an order.”

       Pinkie pulled back, her grin undiminished. “Sure thing! Whatcha need?”

       “A decorated cake.”

       “OK, what should it be decorated with?”

       “Well, it needs to be fancy. It’s for a special occasion.”

       “Ooh, that sounds fun! Who’s it for? Is it somepony I know?”

       “. . . Yeah, you know her. The cake should be decorated with a ring.”

       “A ring? What kind of ring?”

       “I have a model here to use as a reference.” Twilight swallowed hard, the twisting in her gut rising close to real pain, and produced a ring box from her saddlebag. The box levitated over to Pinkie, and Twilight dropped to her knees. Pinkie tensed up, standing ramrod-straight on her hooves, eyes shooting between Twilight and the floating box. Twilight opened it to reveal a slim gold band inset with a purple amethyst and a pink sapphire. “Pinkie Pie, will you marry me?”

* * *

       “Pinkie, are you sure you’re OK?”

       “Don’t be silly, Sparklebutt, I’m fine. Whoop!”

       Twilight’s magic grabbed Pinkie as she tripped, and gently held her upright. Twilight let out a tense gust. “I’m not being silly, I’m being worried. I’ve done the research! The extra weight typically causes problems, including loss of balance, fatigue, insomnia—” She halted herself, noticing Pinkie’s affectionate look. “What is it?”

       “Sparklebutt, I’m pregnant, not sick.” She stepped closer and kissed Twilight on the tip of her nose. “Besides, you’re right here to take care of me. Whenever I’ve been nervous about stuff, with the baby or anything, you’ve always reassured me.” She shook a hoof at Twilight, pretending at sternness. “Now you listen to me, Miss Eggplant: be reassured!”

       Twilight giggled. “Fine, I take your point. Do you mind if I stay with you, though? It’d help ease my nerves.”

       Pinkie leaned against her, swollen belly pressing into Twilight’s side. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

* * *

       “Happy birthday, Sprinkles!”

       “Happy birthday, Sprinkles!”

       Their daughter grinned up at them, big eyes scrunching shut with the size of it. “I’m two!” she exclaimed.

       “You sure are, Honeycake!” Pinkie beamed, then snapped a photograph of the little foal.

       Twilight Sparkle’s horn lit and a small, suspiciously book-shaped package floated toward Twilight Sprinkles, wrapped in bright paper with a candy pattern. She gasped in delight and began rending the paper to shreds.

       Pinkie raised the camera and took another picture, then sniffled quietly. Twilight leaned against her and rested her head on her wife’s soft pink shoulder. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” she murmured.

       Pinkie shook her head, twisting around for a kiss, a tender brush of the lips. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong at all.”

       Sprinkles opened her new book, riffling through a few pages before throwing it down and reaching for the next brightly-wrapped gift with a squeal of anticipation. Twilight smiled, nodding against Pinkie’s shoulder. “Years well-spent.”

       Pinkie snapped a picture, then laid her head on top of Twilight’s. “Let’s keep spending them well.”

       “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

—-

BSB Comments:

Yes. This is a great way to take the prompt. I really liked the progression through the getting together all the way to the second birthday of their child; it was very sweet and touching and lovely. I thought you did the interaction between Pinkie and Twilight very well. And I loved Twilight worrying about Pinkie when she was pregnant and Pinkie’s insistence that she was fine as long as Twilight was there. I liked this a lot. Well done!