/mlp/ greentext » Home Alone
>You are Paradise Skies, anxiety pone extraordinaire, and you’re pretty nervous today. >Anon just got offered a new part-time job at some local pizza joint, and you’re a little worried as you’re going to be on your own tonight. >Well, at least until 8 o’clock anyways.. But still! It's a long time! >Alone? On a Friday night? Pathe- "Sh-shuddup brain.." >"Huh? What was that Para?" >Oh god, you said that out loud. "I - I.. Thinking a-aloud again.." >Thank Celestia that your fuzz provides such an excellent cover for your blush. >With a shrug and a hand around your shoulder to give your hair a little ruffle, Anon just gives you a shrug and a reassuring smile. >"Hey, I ain’t knockin’ ya’, I tend to get more sense out of myself than anyone else as well, heh. You got the time by the way, Para?" >Clambering around on the couch, you manage to stand on your hindlegs on the couch with your front legs on the back pillows as you arch over to get a look at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Mmhm.. Is uh- Ah! Whoops, nearly fell there.. 2:00ish." >With a sigh and a final swirl of his mug, Anon downs the last of his coffee and gives your hair another mess up before groaning and getting up off of the couch. >"Welp, I better start getting ready then, this wagey has a cagey to get into." >As Anon hops up, he heads on over to the kitchen and puts his mug down in the sink with a clunk before slipping into the other room to get changed while you get your butt up off the couch to start washing up. >Scooting your stool over to the sink, you climb up onto your back legs and start washing Anon’s mug out as you begin (over)thinking to yourself about just how much you've been dreading this all week. >It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve gone a few hours without Anon around the house, but this is different. It’s a big change to your routine, and to be blunt? Change makes you anxious and not having Anon around makes you even more anxious. >This whole thing is just shaping up to not be a very fun time as a whole. >Even though you have a fair few hours through the week where you're apart due to different classes and stuff, you kind of spend all of your spare time together wherever you can, and during those short periods where you are apart, you really miss him. >It’s odd. You can’t really put your hoof on *exactly* why you feel how you feel about this. Weird. >Maybe you should talk to him about this sometime.. >Interrupting your thoughts, Anon steps into the kitchen and strikes a pose with a “Waddya think? Reckon I’m dressed to get screamed at by soccermoms because I forgot their kids extra pepperoni?” >With a little giggle, you roll your eyes a bit “You look fine Anon.” >“If you say so friendo. I better get my ass on the move though, you wanna have a little walk down there with me to blow the cobwebs off? Can be my escort to make sure I make it there in one piece.” “O-oh! Sure! I’ll just grab my saddlebags.” >… >Heading out of the door, you shrink into yourself a little as you go out into the cold air to face the big world around you. >Brrr.. It's chilly today! >You’re still pretty worried about how Anon’s first day is going to go. Even though you’re going to miss him and wish he could stay home with you, you do hope he enjoys his new job. >The only reason he felt the need to take it on is because he wants to be able to have some spare cash for the pair of you and your living expenses while you’re studying. >When you suggested doing freelance web-dev stuff, he didn’t seem to think it’d be a good idea for you to do so while studying, considering he knows how easily you can get overwhelmed with stuff as it is, especially when exams are on. >Even though you know he’s right, you still wish you could do something to help somehow around the house, or just in *any* way to contribute to the house as well. You don’t wanna be a bum. Anon is going to be working hard to provide for you both, and you want to be able to do the same in your own way. >As the pair of you approach the pizza joint, you look up at Anon from within the confines of your hoodie. It’s now or never Paradise, you better mention your concerns, or you’ll feel like dookie all day. “H-hey Anon?” >“What’s up, champ?” “With you being at work now, is there anything I can.. Y-y’know.. Do? To help with things?” >Stopping just outside the place, Anon just kinda shrugs and shakes his head. >“Awe-man, you don’t need t-“ “N-no, I-I know! I just.. I want to do something. I want to help. Y-you’re gonna’ be at work all day, and I’ll be in the house doing nothing after I finish my thesis. I don’t want you do have to do everything, I don’t wanna be useless..” >Feeling a bit glum, you kinda feel yourself shrink a little as you slouch into yourself. >Kneeling down, Anon puts his hand on your shoulder and
boops you on the snoot.>“Para, you ain't useless, you do all sorts around the house. That sorta thing is just as important as working in this *cough*shithole*cough*.. Fine establishment you see here before us.” “Y-you sure?” >“Definitely, without a doubt. You know how bad I am for leaving a trillion coffee mugs everywhere around the house. If it wasn’t for you keeping on top of that sorta’ thing I’d have probably died by now after a mountain of the bloody things falling on me or something. Don't you remember my pyramid of McDonalds coffee cups? Literal life saver, that’s what you are.” >Feeling yourself smile a little, he just pulls you in for a hug and you embrace him in one too while burying your head into his shoulder. >“I know this is all very different and all, but trust me, you’ll be alright. If you want to help out somehow, housework would really more than cut it. Coming home and being able to just crash out on the couch without having to do anything would be a God-send.” "I-I can do that!" >Getting back to his feet, he gives your hair a little tussle and starts to head into the shop with a wave. >“I’ll be home before you know it. Promise.” “O-okay Anon.. I- I.. I’ll see you when you come home..” >…
>You're on your own now. >Making your way home, you wander along keeping your head down, giving the occasional glances to the shops as you walk along the highstreet. >You feel like you should be doing more while Anon is out, but you're not really sure what you *can* do to help other than what he's mentioned. >He says that the housework would be a big help, but you can get that done relatively quickly anyway and obsessing over vacuuming or wiping the counters all day doesn't really seem like a good idea. You tend to get a bit *too* into that sort of thing sometimes. >Having a slight giggle to yourself, you remember that one time when you almost gassed the pair of you mixing bleach and dish washing liquid together while cleaning the U-Bend in the kitchen sink. >"Paradise, my eyes! I can't breathe!" >Heh, good times. >Kitchen shenanigans.. Now that gives you an idea. Maybe you could cook some (late) dinner for him coming in from work? That could be nice. Make him his favourite meal of
spaghetti and meatballs.>You'll need to nip into Tesco on the way home though, you're well and truly out of food. You're kinda lucky that you got this idea while being a kick up the flank away from the place. Just across the street, in fact. >Crossing the street in a hurried little gallop, you make it to the other side in one piece and head towards the store. >Stopping briefly at the entrance, you feel your heartrate quicken slightly at the thought of going shopping without Anon for once. You're not exactly a fan of this sort of thing. >The experience of wandering around is okay when nobody is around is kind of nice, but the check-outs freak you out a little bit. You're never really sure what to say or do when you get there. You kinda just stand while they scan your stuff through and awkwardly look at the floor. >You can do this though, you've come this far. You can worry about the checkouts later. >With your heart in your throat, and a tummy full of butterflies, you take the plunge and venture into the supermarket. >As the doors close behind you, you jump a little and grab a basket as you begin your quest for the mighty spagoot and sauce ingredients. >It's surprisingly quiet in here today, but there *are* a few people and ponies around going about their day. Hopefully you can get this over and done with quick enough and get back to the safety of the house. >First on the list is the spaghetti, which is luckily down the first isle of the store so you won't have to look too far for that one. >Clippity clopping your way down the colourful product lined isle, stumbling upon the spaghetti comes far sooner than you anticipated. >Not even a minute in and we're already one item down. Hell yeah, mission complete. >Picking the spaghetti up off the bottom shelf, you pause to check your phone to find a recipe and see what else you're going to need.. >Aha, 5-star rated food blog, this'll be a good one! Skipping to the ingredients list, you check over what you're gonna need. >Got breadcrumbs, cheese and egg at home.. Got some parsley and stuff growing in your window-box.. So you need mince, some garlic, onions and tomatoes.. The pepper and stuff you already have too. >Looks easy enough. Shouldn't be *that* hard, right? >Mooching around the shop, you manage to grab all of your ingredients without much issue, and even decide to grab some cider too while you're at it (because it'd be criminal not to, of course.) >You had a slight anxious moment in the veg section while trying to reach the tomatoes until a nice old human lady grabbed some for you and reminded you that you have wings, but it all panned out ok in the end. >You can be such a derp with stuff like that sometimes. >While making your trip to the checkouts, you breathe a massive sigh of relief as you notice the God-send that is self service. You remember when these first came to Equestria when you were a little filly, and even then you found them comforting. >You were quite a strange child now you think about it. Most kids liked talking, but you were always pretty quiet. >Setting your saddlebags in place in the bagging area, you begin scanning your stuff. >Boop >Boop >Boop >BEEP >Oh Celestia, what? >Staring at the screen, you see those dreaded words pop up. >"Age verification required to approve this purchase." >Oh crap! The cider! >The little red light above your check-out blinks, signalling a store employee to come over and scan their little neck tag to free you from the age-restricted purchase screen. >Freaking out slightly, you feel yourself getting a little shaky as a store assistant makes their way over to you. >"Hi there, do you mind showing me some ID?" "A..-I-I.. I uh.. Y-ye-yes.." >You feel like you're sweating bullets as you reach your hoof into your hoodie pocket, the employee staring at you as if they've caught a 15 year old trying to buy booze while wearing a fake moustache and an oversized suit. >Fumbling with your wallet, it slips out of your hooves causing your change to fall out onto the floor bouncing and rolling around everywhere. >"Oh no! I'm sorry!" says the store employee as they immediately start scrambling to pick up your coins. >AHH! >Cue the internal screaming. >As your breathing quickens, and your vision starts to get wonky, you stop and take a few deep breaths as you start to hurridly pick up the last of your run away pennies and grab your bioresidency permit from your wallet and hand it to the employee while stuttering out apologies under your breath. >"Paradise Skies.. Ahh, there we go - 21. Just gotta be sure.. So sorry again about that!" >Handing your ID back to you with a flip of a hand, you trembly reach your hoof out and take it back from the store employee, once again fumbling with your wallet as you slide it back into its little sleeve. "I- It's okay.. T-thank you.." >Taking a massive sigh of relief, you go back to scanning your groceries, the little "BOOP" sounds slowly calming your nerves as you shakily run your products over the scanner and plonk them down into the bagging area. >At least the little weight sensor on the bags hasn't set itself off as well, that's usually these things favourite move to get you poopin' enough bricks to build an entire house with a detached garage. >Tapping your bank card on the little scanner, you throw your bags across your back, and pick an extra one up in your mouth as you begin your trip back to your house. >Well, that was an ordeal. It was all going so uneventfully too. >You feel a slight wave of sadness wash over you as you get outside and the cool air hits your face. >Walking along the street heading back home, you can't help but feel like you could have handled things a little better in there. >Having an internal freak out over dropping some coins definitely isn't normal, but you just feel completely helpless when stuff like that overwhelms you. >It really sucks when you get your attacks, you know you can't help it, but it doesn't make it any less crappy. Those breathing techniques and the "take 5" thingy Anon taught you help up to a point, but it's ultimately just a part of who you are at this point, you think. *sigh* >At least you'll be back home soon. >...
>Shaking yourself off as you walk in the door with a "brrr", you floof yourself up like a cat and hang your ushanka hat on the coat hanger that you have in the hallway. >Floofus maximus. "Hey Anon! I'm ho-" >Oh, that's right.
Mmph ;-;>In your fuzzed up state, you head on into the kitchen to pack your ingredients away for later and begin the task of cleaning the entire house from top to bottom. >Dragging your stool across the floor, you reach up onto the counter-tops and start the task of packing your things away while you idly think to yourself. >"Hey.. Paradise..?" "Wassup brain?" >"Y'know this whole stool thing?" "Mhm?" >"Well.. Don't you have.. Y'know.. Wings?" "I-I.. I mean.. I do but.. I'm just tired. Flying is tiring!" >"Suuuure.." "... I'm scared of bumping into things, okay!" >"That's more like it. Honesty is the best policy. Now, how are we gonna get the house and food ready for Anon? What's the first port of call?" >Yeah.. What is the first port of call.. Kitchen. Start at the start, and all that jazz. >Quick glance at the clock.. 5:00, that gives you a couple of hours to get the cleaning done before you get cooking. Should be good. >Packing the last of your stuff away, you start whizzing around the house at a pace that would give a Wonderbolt a run for her money, cleaning everything in your path. >Kitchen, check. >Livingroom, check. >Bathroom, check. >Bedroom, check. >Office.. Eeugh.. >.. Uhh.. That's what we in the trade call "organised" chaos.. >Yeeeeah..Totally.. Just gonna close the door on that one.. *creek* >.. Perfect! >Whew, okay, we should be done, and in record time too! You still have a good hour to go before Anon gets back from work, that should be more than enough time to get dinner ready if you get your skates on. >... >Walking into the kitchen, you gather yourself and get ready to cook your delicious spaghetti dinner. >Before you do anything though, you're gonna wash your hooves and Google that recipe again.. Your memory isn't the best with things like this, and you're not quite brave enough to just wing it. >Last time you did that, you tried frying eggs without any oil and you had a minor freakout when you suddenly realised that they had glued themselves to the pan and began frantically trying to scrape them off in a panic as yolk flew all over the cooktop. >Definitely not a fun time. Even Anon gave you a knowing look before telling you how you'd made a "rookie mistake" with that one. >Nudging your wee stool across to the sink, you hop on up and begin to scrubba-dub-dub your hooves in preparation for well.. The preperation! >Hooves clean? Check. Ok. We're good to begin. >Rummaging through the cupboard to grab the breadcrumbs and wandering over to the fridge for the rest of the stuff you need, you begin with getting the meatball ingredients out. >One thing at a time, Paradise. That's how you're gonna get it done. Slow and steady wins the race. >Climbing back up onto your stool to put your hoof-fulls of cheese, onions, herbs and eggs on the counter, you set to work with your knife and grater, dicing up everything that needs to be diced, and grating everything that needs to be grated. >Parmesan cheese smells like vomit but when you mix that bad boy with pasta, oomf. It's "absolute nutting material" as Anon would put it.. Whatever that means exactly. >Onions and herbs all diced up now, cheese is grated.. Eggs beaten.. Check.. What was the next step again..? >Doing a big reach while on your stool, you balance on one hoof precariously and use your hoof to drag your mobile phone over to you so you may consult the mighty recipe website. >Despite thinking you know roughly what comes next, you like to play on the side of caution with things like this. >"You do with most thi-" "Shush brain." >Okay.. Let's see.. "Good Food Blog - Meatballs and Pasta" - That's the one. >"It was a hot summers day last Tuesday. The hubby and I have just gotten back from our amazing vacation to Italy without the little ones, and we discovered this di-" "Celestia, give me strength." >Scrolling down rapidly like a mad-woman, you go through about 5 adverts and know just about everything about Karen and her husband Dave barring their blood type at this point, but you're no closer to getting to the next step in your cooking efforts. >Why do recipe sites always do this absolute.. Gah..! Bullshit! >I don't care about what your "little angels" Zachary and Kaitlin are doing at their grandparents house while you and your husband are up to no good in Italy, just get to the point and give me the gosh darn recipe. >Maybe that'd be a neat website idea. Could be a fun one to work on sometime when you have less coursework to do. >Paradise's Cookbook: Just The Bucking Recipes > Trademarked.>Ah, the elusive "Method" section. I have travelled long and far and faced horrors that you cannot even begin to comprehend to find you. We meet again, old friend. >Righty.. Step one.. Yep.. Done that, all the prep is good. Eggs have been beaten up.. Yadayada.. Here we go! >Mash it all together with your han- Well, hooves in your case. All good. You can handle that. >Chucking everything into a bowl together, you crack open the pack of mince meat and work it all through together with little squashing motions. >Frickin' hooves man, how do they work? Magic, that's how. >Step threee.. Advertisement for hornenlargement pills. >Very nice. >Okay, fan oven, so that'll be 220C, easy enough.. *click* >Step four, roll the mince mixture into golf-ball sized meatballs, easy peasy. >This is super easy, you're on a roll! >Get it? Roll.. Because you're rolling them into meatballs? >Having a giggle and a cringe to yourself, you can't help but find yourself both hilarious and a complete spaz sometimes. >Anyways! Back on track! Into the roasting tin with a drizzle of oil and a shake-shake-shake they go. >Okay, 20 - 30 minutes in the oven for those guys, should be able to work on the sauce and pasta while you wait on them to cook through and brown up. Just gotta wash your hooves again first because you've got them clarted in meatball mix. >Hopping off your stool, you grab everything you're going to need for your sauce from the cupboard and fridge and grab ahold of your big cast iron pan, barely managing to lift and nudge it up onto the cooktop before shoving your ingredients onto the counters and turning on the heat. >Nice, okay.. Crush 4 garlic cloves, and sizzle them for a minute in 3 table spoons of oil. Seems easy enough.. >Back onto your stool you go. >Stepping back up onto your stool, you feel it slip away under your hooves on the tiled floor and bang against the cupboard, stopping it in its path. "AHH! [THWACK] Wohoaah.. A-almost.." >There, there. You're alright. Just relax. >Take a deep breath. It'll be fine. >Just remember, you can do this. Don't panic. There's nothing you can do about a stool sliding across a shiny floor. Stuff like that just happens sometimes. >No harm done, get back at it, kick it's ass and show it who's boss. >Okay! Back to it! >Crushing the already peeled garlic up with the side of your big knife, you toss them into the pan with some oil and get them cooking away while you start on the other stuff. >Chopped tomatoes, wee bit of caster sugar, parsley, seasoning.. Check. >Step five then.. Chuck them all into a big pot and simmer for 15 - 25 minutes. Great. Easy. >Okay, what's the time.. 7:30!? Already?! Shoot, okay, better get your skates on. >Quickly getting everything prepared, you throw it all in the pot and get your simmer on. You wanna get this ready for him coming in the door. Like, in the bowl and waiting on the counter for him ready. >It's gotta be perfect, he's probably been working really hard today..
>You are Anon, and holy mother of Christ, you'll be glad to get home. >You wish that your joke this morning about getting yelled at by soccermoms was a joke, but oh man, were you wrong. >Your shift has been absolute Hell for a first day, absolutely brutal non-stop dough-kneeding action, being screamed at by more Karens than you can count, and you got chilli sauce in your eyes earlier too. >So this is where 3 years of studying and a mountain of student debt gets you. >God save the Queen. >It's not all bad though, your new boss Georgios is pretty based, and his "Customer can go fuck himself. If it is not picked up after 30 minutes, it is yours to take home with you" policy is pretty great as well. Free pizza is best pizza. >On your first day, you managed to score a plain ol' Margherita, and a small garlic bread. Both of which are Paradise's favourites for dunking in whatever's in the fridge. Hopefully she hasn't ate yet. >You'd think coming from a land of sugar and rainbows that she'd have a pretty colourful pallette, but nope. Can't stand anything sugary. Cheese and bread is her weakness. >She's a strange one, alright. >"Anon! Wrap up, your shift ends in 10. You did well today." "Aye, no worries George, cheers. Oh, and when's my next shift?" >The old man rubs the back of his neck and gives you a sort of exhale through his teeth. >"Not got much going on for the rest of the week, but the weekend will be chaos all over again if you feel up to it my friend. If you want the work, come in Friday morning to help me get dough and other stuff ready for the night. It will give you some time to practice before the rush." "Spot on, works for me. See you then." >Grabbing your backpack and two boxes of food from the top of the warmer, you give a wave and head out into the cold night air. >Christ, it's nippy tonight. >You can already hear your internal Paradise reminding you “You’ll catch your death in this wind, Anon! P-please put a coat on..” >She means well, and as much as you hate to admit it
she’s right in this case, you’re fucking freezing.>Speaking of, you wonder to yourself how she’s coped without you today. She’s been pretty wobbly legged about you starting your new job all week. >She doesn’t say much when she’s worried a lot of the time, but she doesn’t really have to at this point, you can tell when something is eating at her. >Truth be told, you actually worry about her quite a bit. She gets herself pretty badly rattled sometimes. >Yeah, worrying about her worrying. That’s totally not going to start a vicious cycle or anything. Nah. Not a chance. >.. But what if..? >Yup, nope, scratch that thing above, you better get your ass home and make sure she hasn’t accidentally created chlorine gas with cleaning supplies again. >You still haven’t recovered from the last time she cleaned the bathroom. >Hurriedly making your way along the street, you use the warmth of your pizza boxes to keep you from meeting a frosty end on the highstreet. >Thank God you only live a couple of streets away from work. You’re not built for this weather. >You should have moved to Australia with your Aunt when you had the chance. You could be eating kangaroos and fighting emus in the great war right now while shirtless in the heat, but no, you're stuck here in good ol' Yorkshire freezing your nipples off. >Turning the corner onto your street, you quicken your pace and begin to head down the path to yours and Paradise’s house. >Opening the front door, you close your eyes, sigh in relief as the warm air washes over you, and an amazing smell fills your nostr- [CLUNK CLINK CLANK] “What in the..?” >”Woahhh.. Wooa-AHH, SHI- [CRASH] AHH!” >[GONK – CRASH – BANG] >Holy mother of Christ, what the Hell was that? >…
[5 minutes earlier...] >Okokokok.. Stir the sauce. >Looking good Paradise. Almost there. >Anon should be heading home about now, so that gives you just enough time to bowl up the spagoot and sauce before he gets back. Might even have time to spare if you get it done quickly. >Clicking off the knobs on the cooker, you grab your pasta pan and shimmy on over to the sink with it before draining your spaghetti through a siv into the sink. >Putting the spaghetti back into the now empty pan you cooked it in, you put it on the side by the cooker and begin the tricky bit. >Adding the sauce. >Fishing your ladle down into the big ol’ pot of sauce, you grab a scoop full and dump it into the pan with the pasta and use a set of chopsticks out of the drawer to mix the two together into a tomato-y pasta-y cheesy-y goodness. >Using booth hooves, you turn the pasta together with the sauce with an unreasonable amount of concentration before giving yourself a nod of approval. >Man, you’ve actually done a pretty good job, this smells awesome. >… You’re missing something though.. What is it? >Oh, right, the parmesan to top it off, that must be it.. >Using your ladle and chopsticks, you try your best to attempt a serving trick you saw some guy do on YouTube a while ago when he made some squid ink spaghetti (see 4:33: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPdln-PUZuE) >You don’t have the BBQ tongs, but your weeb noodle twigs seem to do a pretty fine job aside from being a little bit tricky to hold while you’ve got a ladle in the other hoof. >Moving your newly made dish over to the spot where you eat breakfast at the kitchen counter, you manage to pull of a wee bit of a balancing act with both bowls in your hooves at once and place them down carefully with a little *dink* on the countertop. >Hurridly making your way to the fridge to grab your parmesan, you quickly grab your grater from the counter and top both of them with the cheese as your wings flutter frantically to maintain height at the counter as you hear a click at the door and the sounds of Anon making his way into the house. >Oh thank Celestia you actually did i-.. Waiddaminnit.. Crap! The meatballs! >Dropping down from the air in a panic, your hooves thud down on the floor, knocking over a stool as you run to the oven in a panic. >Opening it up, you get a big waft of heat in the face that blinds you briefly as you flutter back blindly and bump into some things before grabbing your teatowel and hastily grabbing the hot tray of meatballs from the oven while still partially blinded. “Ow, ow, ow!” >With a slight slip of the teatowel, the tray brushes your foreleg, heat instantly burning you slightly, and in a panic – It happens. “AH SHI-.. AHH, NO!“ >All at once, before you can even stop it, the tray flies from your hooves and crashes across the counter before wiping out both bowls of pasta you just prepared. >*CRASH* >*CRTSHHH!* >Throwing yourself forward in a desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable, you hit the deck, and your bowls of spaghetti come down on you, giving you a set of spaghetti dreadlocks, a shiny blue bowl for a hat, and another upside down bowl splattered across your hoof and sweater. >What. >Just. >Happened. >You can do nothing but sit in shock as you feel your eyes welling up in tears. >Before you can even begin to process any of this, you just flop down onto the floor into your spaghetti and sauce and let out a faint whimper. >All of your hard work, ruined. >Hearing hurried footsteps making their way towards your general direction followed by an all familiar voice, you just bury your head in your hooves and try not to cry. >”Paradise? What in the name of God was tha..- Waiddaminnit, when did you become a Pastafarian? Ra-men, sister.” >You just scrunch up further under your bowl of shame. You have become the big sad. >You can’t even cook dinner on your own, you absolute failure. >As you sit, wallowing in your own spaghetti, you feel a familiar hand on your back. >"It'll be right mate, no harm done. I brought us some pizza home anyways, so we can still have dinner together, right?" "B-but I messed it all up, I- *sniff* I just wanted to do something nice for you.." >You feel positively awful. >This definitely is not what you were going for. A mess and a cry. >Pausing for a moment, Anon snaps his fingers. >"Idea! Gimme a sec.." ".. Y-yeah..?" >With a groan, Anon gets up and grabs the pizza boxes from the counter, he sits back on the floor next to you. >Hearing that distinct *sphh* noise of a pizza box opening, Anon pulls out a slice, dips it in your spaghetti dreads, and takes a bite. >"See, good shit. You should try some. You're delicious!" >With a giggle mixed among your tears and sniffles, you playfully give Anon a little punch in the arm. "h-heh.. A-anon! That's gross." >"If I have to be gross to cheer you up, then so be it. Your sauce is cash money though." "I-it is..?" >"Mhm. Hey, why don't we put some of it in a bowl and have it as dunking sauce with the pizza after we get you cleaned up? Can stick on Super Troopers and have a cosy night on the couch? Pizza and a shitpost of a movie is always a good time." >Despite everything that has just unfolded, a night on the couch with Anon would really add a silverlining to this otherwise quite sucky evening. "T-that would be nice.. n.. A-anon..? >"Yeah?" "C-could you carry me upstairs so I don't get sauce everywhere on my way to the bathroom?" >With a smile and a nod, Anon picks himself up and stretches a little. >"Of course. Just so you don't sauce-up the house." >Reaching your arms up, you put your sauce-covered hooves around his neck as he leans down to pick you up in an effort to support yourself
and also give Anon a slight sly-cuddle. >With an eyebrow wiggle followed by a slight eye roll and smile, Anon scoops his arms under your flank and lifts you up to begin the journey upstairs. >You feel your anxiety slowly melt away as you hold yourself closer to Anon and listen to his heartbeat as the pair of you make your way to the bathroom. >"Y'know, I'm starting to think you've done this on purpose. I know how you have a thing for being carried around. We'll have to get one of those baby-carrier things to strap to my chest one of these days." >You feel yourself starting to blush again as you bury your head even deeper into Anons chest. "I-is it bad that I actually half like that idea?" >"Yes. Very, very, very bad. One of the worst. Not happening compadre." "Awwwwe.." >Fumbling with his foot while trying to nudge the bathroom door open while leaning on the handle with his other hand, you can't help but have a little giggle to yourself as you reach out and just open the door for him and tip your invisible fedora. "M'gentleman" >"Christ, give me strength, you need to stop going on 4chan so much. You going to have a bath or a shower?" "Umm.. Shower I think. Will be easier to get this to all just wash away.. Bath would be like sitting in a big watery sauce pot methinks." >"Alrighty then, tell you what, while you wash up, I'll go and sort the kitchen situation out and sort the couch out. Sound like a plan?" "S-sure thing! nwn" >"Cool beans, I'll grab you a towel before I head back down so you don't go ass over elbow again. I'll be a minute." >As Anon heads out to grab the towels you mutter something out under your breath. " Y-you could a-always just stay a-and keep an eye on me.." >Poking his head back into the bathroom he gives you a puzzled look. >"Huh, sorry.. What was that?" >Oh God, you thought he was already in the bedroom. "N-NOTHING! J-just talking to myself!" >Heading back out, his voice trails as he makes his way into the other room. >"Ahh, suuuuuure.." >W-whew.. That was a close one.. If ponies could shit bricks.. Why did you even say that..? >.. Nevermind. >Taking off your headband and sweatshirt, you chuck them both into the bathroom sink and turn the shower on. >Turning the shower on, you feel the cold water run over you and progressively warm up as your fur runs red with the sauce of your enemies. >Feelsgoodman. >Hearing the door creak open, you squat down in the tub and hide yourself behind the shower screen as Anons hand reaches into the bathroom and starts feeling around for the shower rail before hearing an "Ow, y'shit!" as he seemingly finds it and remembers that it's heated. >With a little giggle you shout out to him "Y-you okay Anon?" >"Yup. Who'dda thought that heated towel rails get hot?" >Seeing his hand reaching back in, this time with the towels, he shimmies them over the rail and goes to head downstairs before you remember your clothes in the sink. "Anon! Mind grabbing my clothes out of the sink and throwing them in the wash for me so it doesn't stain?" >"Gotcha." >Return of the reachy hand part 2 electric bugaloo. "A-anon.. Just come in the bathroom." >"You sure? You decent in there?" "Anon, I'm covered in fur and I don't wear pants half of the time." >"Alright, good point. Just like to make sure. Coming in, hide yo business." >With one hand over his eyes, Anon makes his way into the bathroom and exaggeratedly waves his arm around while feeling for the sink before turning his back to you and grabbing your stuff with both arms out of the sink. >And you think you're a derp sometimes, kek. "You're silly sometimes Anon." >"Wouldn't like me if I wasn't. See you when you're cleaned up and dressed." >As Anon heads out of the bathroom, you stand back up and begin the process of cleaning yourself off and letting the stress of your cooking-exploits wash away in the process, leaving nothing but a slightly hollow and weird chest feeling behind. >While cleaning off, your mind starts to wander a little, and you can't help but realise that Anon kinda does have a point with that whole clothing/being "decent" thing. >You tend to find yourself feeling.. Well.. Naked without at least a sweater on, and you have taken a liking to shorts and skirts lately.. You did dip down behind the shower screen afterall. >Suppose wearing clothing so often for most of your life has kinda had that effect. >Humans definitely have the right idea with clothes. Whenever you've been home to visit you always feel super awkward seeing ponies without despite growing up there. Kinda funny now you think about it. >And other ponies say *you're* the weird one. >[...]
>Christ, she's really done a number in here. One bowl smashed, sauce and spaghetti everywhere. Good thing you put on your lazy-clothes before coming back downstairs to deal with this. >Real shame, looks like she was really excited about this. She's really tried her best on this. That sauce is damn good, and Paradise always cooks spaghetti dead-right. Not too soft, not raw, always just spot on. >[Weeping Internally] >If you were still in your teens you would have considered trying to salvage this from the floor by picking the chunks of porcelain out of it. It's not like your kitchen floor is carpeted or something. You guys have tiles and tiles tend to be pretty clean as a general rule of thumb. >Good ol'
45 minuterule. >Grabbing the bin, you start scooping chunks of bowl and sketti up and dropping them into the trash, unable to prevent yourself from sighing in shame at the loss of the spagoot. >Oh well, there’s always the pizza, some smashed meatballs and what's left of the sauce in the pot on the stove will make a bomb-ass dip. >After you straighten the kitchen tops up, the rest the clean up actually goes pretty quickly. >There's nowhere near as much mess as it looks like as soon as you get the majority of the stuff up. >With a quick wash of the floor, a wipe down of the cupboards and counter, and five minutes of your life later you're all done. >Just like it never happened. >Grabbing your two pizza boxes on the way out of the kitchen, you put them down on your livingroom table and stick your USB stick of totally legally acquired movies that you absolutely did not download from a torrent site into your TV. > TV loicenses are for the weak, get cucked government.>Scrolling through the list, you flop down on the couch and find it: Super Troopers. >Ever since showing her this movie, she's been in love with how stupid it is, and admittedly, it's grown on you a hell of a lot too. >She even liked that shitty sequel they did a few years ago, but you don't have the heart to tell her how bad of a movie it is. She was just happy to see her favourite characters all come back to do another movie. >As long as it makes her happy, it makes you happy though. "Paradise! Movie's set up!" >"Coming!" >Hearing the tippatappa of hooves above your head, you assume your usual position on the couch in preperation for the incoming tiny pony who will no doubt be assuming *her* usual position where she likes to sort of shuffle between you and the couch to cuddle up to you. >It's pretty comfy. >Here she comes. >Oh god, shes got her koala onesie on. You're going to die of heatstroke tonight it seems. >"I'm ready! Watch out Anon, I'm coming in for a landing." >With a little wing flutter she hops up onto the couch over the arm of the chair and gently lands with a soft pomf in a makeshift nest between you and the couch. >She really reminds you of a bird sometimes when you see how she likes to relax on the couch with a mound of pillows or something else soft to lay on. Funny that. Maybe it's a wing-thing. "We gud?" >"We guuuud." *click* >As the opening scene starts the pair of you start tucking into dinner, you haven't eaten anything since breakfast. You could practically eat a horse!>"How's your day been anyways Anon?" "It was pretty alright, had a couple of slightly chewy customers but all-in-all it was pretty great. Got paid, and got a free dinner out of it, so what's not to like? New boss seems like an alright bloke too. Doesn't take shit from anybody, though. How'd yours go?" >"It was going pretty alright until.. Y-y'know.. Got a little bit overwhelmed with things. I wanted to get it all ready for you coming home and just f-frazzled myself I think.." "Hey, it's all good. Don't worry about it." >Seeing her facial expression change to one of sort-of.. Confusion..? She continues. >"I-I'm not worried about it.. I.. I dunno how to explain. I guess I just wanted to do something nice **for you**, a-and messing it up really.. Well.. Sucked. You do so much for me, and I just wanted to repay you for that somehow.. I feel really useless sometimes when I can't always do as much as you as quickly as you can.. I'unno. It's weird." "What do you mean? You do plenty. Besides, we don't do stuff for each other like it's a contest. We're a team. You're definitely not useless, Para." >Shifting a little in her spot, she wiggles into a more comfortable position, causing you to end up in that sorta not-quite-laying-down but not-quite-sitting position and rests her head on your chest while she twiddles her front hooves together. >She looks almost.. Nervous..? >"N-no! I mean.. Yes, but no, I know.. I-uh.. Gaah.. I just wanted to do something special, I guess. I know we do everything as a unit and stuff, but like.. I mean more in a mental sorta way, I guess?" "Mental sorta way? Is that why you had a spaghetti bowl on your head? Telapathic dinner? I gotta admit, a little unconventional, but I could definitely get behind that kind of creativity." >"N.. No.. really, I'm serious.. I-I know my anxiety problems and shakiness can be a lot to deal with sometimes, and y-you give me a lot of support and you're super patient with me.. You've given me more support and patience than anyone has ever given me with this stuff.. I k-know I don't say it much, but I really appreciate just having you in my life, Anon.. I uh.. I lo.. I dunno. I'm not good with words.. I dunno how to say what I mean. I just figured dinner together would be nice after a hard day at work, and I.. I dunno.. I wanted me to be able to something that makes your life that bit better like you make mine or something.." "Like I said before though, you already *do* make my life better. We're best friends, homie. That's what I'm here for. I've always got your back, and I know you've got mine too. We're practically a kick up the flank away from drunkenly getting matching "we ride 2gether, we die 2gether" tattoos or something. I get it man, really. I do." >"Y-y'do?" "I think so, yeah. But really, don't sweat it. You don't have to do anything to prove you care, I already know you do." >"I.. I know I don't have to do anything, it's actually kinda sorta why I *want* to.. I want to because well.. y'know.. I.. I.. I feel different around you I guess. In a good way. I don't know what it is, and I don't really know how to word it.. Saying "I care about you" doesn't seem like enough. It's strange. I haven't felt it before meeting you so I can't.. I cannot into words.." >Huh..?
>Welp, you dun did it now Paradise, you're gonna have to tell him. >B-brain please.. Not now. >Sitting up slightly while you look at a slightly puzzled looking, and for once quite sheepish Anon, you break your eye contact to stop and think to yourself. "I.. Uh.." >"I care about you a lot too Para, I mean, this is super heartwarming and all, but it's hardly news. It's what friends do, yeah?" >Kneeding at the couch with your hooves, you kinda struggle to really respond.. How are you going to explain this? >You're gonna have to say something, you can't just sit here. >Or y'know.. Drastic measures.. DO something. "A-anon.. It's different.." >"How, though?" >Gaah, why can't you say it?! >In a moment of nervous, anxiety-filled desperation to get your point across, you clench your eyes closed for a brief moment to build up the courage, and you find yourself just.. Going for it. >You reach your hoof to Anons cheek and lean in to very awkwardly give him a small, but soft caring kiss. >Taking a few moments to take it in, and feel Anons lips against your own, you feel your heart in your chest as your stomach fills with butterflies, you break away slowly and kinda just melt as you look into his eyes as you do so. >God, you've wanted to do that for so long. >You think you know what that feeling is now.. You think you might love Anon.. Like in a more than just friends kinda way. >He makes you feel like nobody else ever has, and you can't help but feel like this is well.. Right. You've not been sure about anything quite as much as you're sure about this. >Wait a second.. Did you just really do that? >More to the point, HOW did you just do that?! >... More-more to the point.. >You love Anon.. >Uhhh.. >You.. Love.. Anon.. >.. Ohhhh, SHIT.. >Nonono..! What did you do! >Going into complete shock, you just blankly stare. "Uhhh.." >"Paradise" >Why did you do that?! >You kissed Anon, gaaaaaaaah shitshitshit! >"Hello.. Anybody home?" >Might wanna snap out of it for a second Paradise, there's a hand being waved in front of your eyes. >Giving your head a little shake, you jump back a little, startled as you come back to reality. "H-huh.. Ahh! Aaah.. I-I'm sorry Anon! I-I.. I couldn't.. I - I didn't know wha.. Gaah, I'm an idiot." >You've really done it this time. >Burying your face in the couch pillows, you prepare for the worst. >"I.. I can't say I saw my night heading in this direction, but hey-ho. We're good, don't trip. You're not an idiot." >[Press X to Doubt] >Peaking sheepishly up to look at Anon through the safety of your pillow pile of shame, you can't help but be just a liiiiiiittle surprised by his response. "W-waddya mean? I - I.. I kissed you..!" >Awkwardly shifting in his seat, obviously trying not to startle you with his movement, he rubs the back of his neck with his hand and exhales deeply. >"I.. I uh.. Christ, now I'm the one dropping spaghetti! I'm kinda.. Well, uh.. Happy you did, I guess? Yeah, that's what I'm trying to say." >Okay, now your ears are perking up. Now you're A LOT surprised by his response. "Y-y'mean.. You're not mad? W-what do you mean by you're happy?" >"Mad? God no, why would I be? Something like this isn't something I can really well.. Be mad about. You're my best friend. If you have feelings about something like this I'd rather you tell me than not.. As for being happy about it.. Uhh.. I dunno how to explain. It's complicated." >Tilting your head in confusion, you just look at Anon with eyes full of worry and a desire to know more. "C-complicated, how?" >"In short? Because I well.. Y'know, have some-sort-of feelings towards you too.. I care about you a lot Para. It's hard to explain, because I don't want things to go weird or change between us if you know what I mean?" "T-that's why I didn't say anything.. W-what do we do next? I'm a little scared Anon.." >Now it's Anons turn to give you an unsure and worried look, it seems. >"I mean, it's up to you, or us, I guess.. What do you want Para? No matter what you wanna do, I've got your back homie." >You think you know exactly what you want, but the downside is the thought of how scary it'll be making the actual leap to being more than just friends with Anon.. You're 100% sure that things will work out well given how well you two work together, but there's always that little voice in your head giving you the "what if's" that prevent you from ever taking a risk on things. >You don't want to ruin everything the pair of you have built up together and you don't want to hurt anyone or *get* hurt either.. Gaah.. What to dooo..! "I - I.. I want to be with you.. L-like.. I want to be your special somepo.. Wait.. Girlfri.. Special someone(!?) B-but I really like how things are with us a-and I don't want everything to change and go strange or something.." >"I get that. If it helps you decide at all, I don't want stuff to change either, I mean, we are practically already like a couple in a lot of ways. We live together, we share a bedroom, we often sleep together on the couch - Hell, we're eating pizza and cuddling up tonight for one. Friends typically don't do that, y'know Para?" "F-friends don't eat pizza on the couch?" >What miserable friendships those must be. >"The other bit. The cuddling." "O-oh! Y-yeah.. I guess that is a little bit strange for friends to do.. I never noticed though, I - I really like our couch time.." >"Kinda one of those things I've not thought about either. Just always felt right I guess." "S-so.. Does this mean we're together a-already? I'm confused again.." >"Errr, not quite.. But hear me out and let me know what you think. What if we just continue as we have been these last few years but with new added labels to it. Y'know. To make it official. We don't have to change anything. No pressure to rush into things, nada. Cross each bridge as we come to it." "Y-you sure? I - I mean.. I dunno really what couples well.. do. This is all a bit new to me.." >"Of course I'm sure, I don't wanna rush things either. Means we can both take it at a pace that just werks for both of us. Like I said before, we're pretty much already doing everything couples do. We're not really well, lacking anything. Nothing important anyways." >Thank Celestia that Anon is more level headed and less of a spaz than you are, you'd be completely lost on this stuff without him. >There is one more very important question you have to ask, though.. "C-can we do more kisses in future?" >With a bit of a giggle, Anon just nods. >"Yes Para, we can do more kisses in future." "W-what about other stuff.. L-like more than kisses?" >With a bit of a blush, Anon suddenly looks incredibly nervous by your question for some reason and grabs the folding fan out of the side-table drawer next to the couch to hide his face behind as he wafts it like a damsel in distress. >"P-paradise..! W-what do you mean other stuff..?!" "W-well.. Humans hold hands and stuff.. I don't have those, but can we hold hand and hoof while sitting? Or if I ever fly alongside you?" >Instantly dropping his fan and easing up into his spot, he ruffles your hair and exaggeratedly wipes non-existent sweat from his forehead. >"Oh, thank God. That's what you mean. W-wew Paradise, thought I was gonna have to dust off the ol'"you'll have to buy me dinner first" line. That one's an antique! Next you'll be getting us to push the beds together!" >Oh GOD, he thought you meant.. "A-anon you're awful.." >Playfully swatting him with your hoof you both share a laugh together and kinda just feel the anxiety melt away. >This is why you like him so much, he always just finds a way to make light of even the most poopy situations. >"Ayy, nothing like some bants to take the edge off, want me to grab the cider out of the fridge and we can stick another movie on when this one's done? Can make a long night out of this if you want?" >Giving you a pat on the back to urge you to stand so he can get up, you flutter up off of him and he heads over to the fridge to grab the delicious apple nectar that you could really do with right about now to wash down the days events. >"Hey Para, want a pint glass?" "Mhm, please..! Hey Anon?" >"Yeah?" ".. Does this mean we're in a.. Y-Y'know.." >".. In a relationship now? I mean, as long as you're still sold on the idea..?" >Oh thank goodness for that. >Letting out a big sigh of relief as you melt into the couch with a big smile on your face, you finally feel truly relaxed for the first time all night. "Definitely!" >Taking his spot back on the couch as he hands you your drink, he pops open a bottle and kicks his feet up on the table before you shimmy back over and nestle yourself under his arm and lean against him while the movie plays in the background and you enjoy your drinks together. >This is the life. "A-anon?" >"Mm?" "I-I love you Anon.." >