The Palace of Not-Anywhere
Pinkie decided she’d better pack a picnic. Cheesie wasn’t so good about food. He was great at parties, and his fondue was totally yummy, but she wasn’t sure if this counted as a party or not. If it wasn’t a party, she’d rather bring something they could eat than wind up in the hospital, because while Cheesie could definitely make anyplace funner, there was no way anypony could actually make the hospital fun. She was very careful about what she packed, making sure it was a sensibly balanced meal. Honestly, she thought, snorting with irritation, everypony thought she was some kind of foal who didn’t even know the difference between mares and stallions, and she knew perfectly well, thank you very much. Mares liked chocolate and ice cream, and stallions liked chips and pretzels and things with a lot of cheese on it. Oh, and one could have cute little baby ponies and the other couldn’t, but that wasn’t so important for a picnic. She thought briefly about putting in some more of what Twilight or Applejack would probably call “real food,” shrugged, and threw a checked cloth over the top of the picnic basket.
By the time Pinkie left Sugarcube Corner with her basket, the late afternoon sunshine was already casting long shadows, and at first, she couldn’t see Cheese at all. Then she realized that he was lounging in one of the shadows, hat pulled down, one leg crossed over the other, a noisemaker in his mouth. He almost looked unfriendly. Before she could ask why he was hiding over there, he glanced up, saw she was there, and sprang into the air with a happy cry and a burst of confetti. “Pinkie! It’s you!”
Pinkie looked around behind her. “Yepsidoodle, it’s me. Who else did you think it would be? You looked kinda spooky, hiding back there.”
Cheese trotted forward. “I wasn’t trying to be spooky. I just didn’t want everypony to see me waiting for you.”
“You could have come inside, silly!”
“I didn’t think of that. I just stood there, feeling dumb, and some of the fillies and colts from this morning wanted to know when the party was, and I said, ‘tomorrow,’ and they seemed to think that if they kept staring at me, the party would happen a little faster. Then they asked me to juggle, which was fine, and then some of the fillies started asking was I waiting for anypony, and was it a special somepony, and did I liiiiiike her, and I panicked and hid. Are they gone?”
“I don’t see anypony,” said Pinkie. Cheese just stood there, looking uncomfortable. “Did you still want to go for a walk? ‘Cause you could try kissing me right here, if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Walk,” said Cheese. “Definitely walk.” They turned and headed in the opposite direction from the one they’d taken this morning.
Pinkie talked for a few minutes about packing, candy, rocks, why melons get mushy, the Equestria Games, the Wonderbolts, and more rocks, and then she noticed that Cheesie was exceptionally quiet. Do I talk too much? she thought. Everypony thinks I do. I guess I could talk about that. “Do I talk too much, Cheesie?” she asked. “ ‘Cause you’re super quiet over there and I don’t like thinking you’re grumpy, but you don’t feel grumpy and I don’t get what’s going on, and I’m not used to that, so I think you’ll have to tell me this time.”
He stopped for a moment and swung his head around. “Is there anypony following us?” he said, his voice dropping low.
She looked around. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?” he insisted. “Because they do that—follow us, I mean.”
He really did look worried, and she put her hoof on his shoulder. “It’s ok, Cheesie. The fillies and colts think ‘party today,’ and you know they’re right, because it’s always today.”
She could feel that he did understand that. To a party pony, tomorrow was just a today that hadn’t happened yet. “But the grown ponies understand ‘tomorrow,’ and we told them ‘party tomorrow,’ so they’ll just go home and dream about the party, and we’ll make sure that it’s the best castle-warming party ever. So really, the party is happening now. Just not right-this-minute now.”
He nodded, but he smiled this time. “You,” he said, “are good. I wouldn’t have thought of that. I was just worried, because they always follow us when we’re happy.” His smile became a really super duper smile that went all the way to the corners of his mouth. “And I am really so happy, Pinkie. You have no idea. I’m so happy that I thought they’d be following us for miles. And . . . and . . . I’m happy I can go ahead and be really happy, and I am so glad that—” he grabbed her in a hug and whirled her around until she giggled. “That happy. Plus, I just like listening to your voice. Tell me more about the rocks.” His amble forward had a little extra bounce in it, and soon she was bouncing beside him, and everything was Easy-Cheesie again.
“Nope! I want to hear about what happened in Manehattan. That must have been a doozy!”
“It was a doozy,” he said, lifting his eyebrows with a smug little smile. “You felt that one, did you?”
“Are you kidding me? It was awesome! I had to go and lie down afterwards! What did you do?”
And soon they were swapping stories comfortably again, mixing shoptalk with adventures, jokes, and just plain silliness as they took one of the streets that became a road out of town, and then they left the road. While it wasn’t a real road, it did look familiar. Cheese stopped. “You remember this place?”
She looked around at the clearing, the red rocks, and the overlook with the scrub desert stretching before them. “I think so,” she said slowly.
“This is as far as I got outside Ponyville, that first time I tried to leave,” he said, and pulled out a large roll of fabric. “I got this far, and no further, until you joined me. I thought it was a coincidence, but now I think it’s some kind of a line. What do you think?”
She tried bouncing around a bit—a circle forward, a circle backward, a figure eight, and then skipping back and forth as though she were playing hopscotch. “Yep,” she said. “You’re right. The line’s here. Over there is where Ponyville really ends. This is not-Ponyville.” She looked over at Cheese, who was unrolling a blanket by pushing it with his nose, and then placing a lantern filled with fireflies at the edge.
He lifted his head. “And that’s why I brought you here. You made me think of it, when you were talking about Twilight’s home, and your home on the rock farm and Sugarcube Corner, and I thought you’d like to see mine.” He took the picnic basket from her and placed it down on the blanket.
“Not-Ponyville?” said Pinkie, looking out at the scrub desert.
Cheese spun in a circle, his forelegs flung out. “This,” he said. “Not-Ponyville, not-Appleloosa, not-Canterlot; all of this. It’s practically a palace, don’t you think?” he said, laughing. “It’s certainly beautiful enough.” He gestured towards the blanket as gracefully as though he were pulling out a chair. Pinkie settled herself down, her legs tucked under her, as Cheese whirled around to face her. “I guess some would say I’m the Prince of Nowhere.” He dropped down so that he was next to her. “But I wouldn’t. I think I’m something better.”
“What’s that?” said Pinkie, who had never heard him talking like this.
“I’m a party pony,” he said, his body utterly relaxed. “I don’t have to own things. Although I do,” he said thoughtfully. “I guess the hats and the party bomb and all of that stuff does count. Anyway, this is it. It’s my home. All of this is mine.”
Pinkie looked at everything Cheese had gestured at. Not-Everywhere sounded too big for her, but not-Somewhere . . . She noticed a little hill some distance away. It had a soft meadow to roll on, and the sunlight was just beginning to tint it gold. “Could I have that bit?” she said, pointing at it.
“Of course you can!” he said, laughing. “I’d give you all of it, if I could.” He cleared his throat. “But, um, really, it’s everypony’s.” He dove into the picnic basket and pulled the checked cloth over his head. “Oh, hey, you brought sandwiches. Grass sandwiches, too. Boneless 2’s favorite.”
He started pulling food out of the basket, and Pinkie noticed that he didn’t say, “oh, you didn’t have to do this” or anything like it. She did have to do this, and he knew it, so there wasn’t any point in saying so. She didn’t have to explain things. That was such a comfortable thought that she rolled on her back from side to side, legs in the air.
Cheese looked over at her from where he was piling up stuff for a fire—old boxes, broken instruments, crushed party horns, and all the junk party ponies tended to collect, especially after a really epic party—and smiled at her until his eyes crinkled. “Maybe I can’t read you as well as you read me,” he said, “but I know exactly what you mean.” He exploded a cigar to light the fire, dropped back on the blanket next to her, and pushed her the plate of sandwiches. They really were very good sandwiches, she thought, and this was a very good sunset.
“Isn’t Not-Anywhere a lonely place to be?” she wondered aloud. “All by yourself?”
He looked up in surprise. “I’m not alone. I have Boneless 2. And there’s all the ponies all over Equestria when I give parties and play for them. Making them happy is the best thing in the world, isn’t it? I just like coming back here when I’m done.”
She shook her head as she shoved over a basket of chips. She didn’t have to ask if she was right about stallions and salty food. “That sounds too much like the rock farm for me. I guess it’s different when you’re from Manehattan.”
“I’m not from Manehattan,” Cheese said, with his mouth full. “Did I ever say I was? I’m from Bayroan, Neigh Jersey.”
“But I thought you said—”
Cheese swallowed. “When other ponies ask where you’re from, you usually say ‘a rock farm,’ don’t you? You don’t say where. You don’t say, ‘oh, it’s near Nickerlite,’ because they’ll just say “where?”
Pinkie’s eyes bulged. “You knew our rock farm is near Nickerlite?” She stuffed an entire Rainbow Funfetti Chocolate Cotton Candy cupcake in her mouth at once, and then said “mm,” and ate another.
He shrugged. “I said I liked listening to you. Just because your voice is perfect doesn’t mean I tune out the content. So somepony says, ‘oh, Noo Yoke—you mean Manehattan,’ and I got tired of saying “no, Neigh Jersey’ because they just say ‘where?’ or they start making a lot of really annoying jokes, so now I just say, ‘yuh-huh,’ and let it go.”
Pinkie hadn’t heard Cheesie talk so much about himself at one time, or even at all, and she didn’t know why he was doing it now. He was upset and not-upset and relieved, and this time she thought she’d just listen, because she wanted to hear what he was going to say next. He was also thirsty, though, so she pushed over some water first.
“Oh,” he said. “Thanks. We talk a lot where I’m from. Anyhow, there are lots of ponies in Bayroan. The houses are so close together that I could stand on two porches at once back when I was still a colt. But they’re mostly not happy ponies, and I want to make everypony happy as much as you do, so—”
“So you get tired out,” she said. “I see.”
And there was the difference between them, she thought, as the sun slipped below the horizon and the sky grew dark. Cheesie was always going to want to be alone when he wasn’t making other ponies happy, and she was always going to want to be with as many ponies as possible. She was always going to want to live somewhere, and he was always going to want to be not-Somewhere. Thinking about this was beginning to make her sad.
“We don’t all have to be the same, you know,” he said softly. “If all of us were the same, we couldn’t make other ponies happy. We couldn’t spread Joy. Funny’s what we do. And besides, you’re going everywhere anyway, Pinkie Pie.”
“How?” she asked, eating another cupcake, because cupcakes were the best thing when you felt sad.
“Because I’m carrying your magic now,” he said. “I thought that was over when Boneless was –lost—gone—whatever; but now I don’t think so. I have mine, and I have some of yours, too. Every time I see you, even when I think of you, it touches off your magic. There are fillies and colts singing the Smile Song wherever I go. Sometimes they know it before I even get there. There are ponies laughing because of you that you haven’t even met. You matter.”
She looked at him, and deep in his eyes, she saw something or somepony, a blaze of pink; what pure happiness would look like if happiness were a pony. If Cheese had ever met a pony like that, no wonder he was so happy. She thought that maybe if she knew a pony like that, she’d always be happy, too. But something deep inside told her not to ask questions about this. She just wondered at the blaze of pink, and the happiness Cheese was radiating.
She felt him wrapping his tail around her. It wasn’t the involuntary tangling she’d felt before. This was slow and deliberate, and felt very good; like a hug, only better. Maybe cupcakes weren’t the best thing when you were sad.
The darkness was beginning to look beautiful now. It wasn’t sad at all. Out here, in Cheese’s not-Anywhere, the sky was carpeted with stars. “When we were waking up this afternoon,” she said, “and you kissed my nose, you said ‘good morning, Beautiful.’”
Cheese covered his face with his hooves. “I knew you were going to ask about that.”
She didn’t ask anything more. She knew he was going to tell her. She knew with a certainty that he wanted to tell her.
“Pinkie,” said Cheese, “when you wake up first thing in the morning, what color is the sky?”
“Pink. Oh!” Suddenly she realized what he was saying, and felt herself turning an even deeper pink than usual. “The morning sky is pink.”
“Then there’s your answer,” he said, looking at something on the ground—anything that wasn’t her.
“You think of me every morning?”
“Yep. Hard not to, when the sky is that pink!” he said, laughing again, and squeezing her tail with his own. “Every morning, it’s as though I see you running just before the sunrise, and the sky lights up in brilliant pink. I can practically hear your laugh, and sometimes I’d swear that I do.”
Cheese wasn’t looking at her now, but towards what must be the east, almost as though he were expecting something or somepony. “I feel your magic lighting me up, and you fill me with Joy, and I want to run and share it with other ponies and give away as much of it as I can. But before I do, I always say hello and tell you how beautiful you are. ‘Good morning, Beautiful.’”
“Although sometimes,” he added, facing her again and turning as crimson as the fiery sunset they’d just seen, “I say it as though you were here with me. So now you know my stupid little secret.”
He said good morning to her, every morning. She didn’t know that, but she’d somehow known that he must, so why did it feel different when he told her so?
“Did you still want me to kiss you, Pinkie?”
She nodded. Now that it had actually come to this, she found she really was a little nervous.
Did you keep your eyes open or shut or what? First she thought she should keep her eyes open, but Cheesie’s eyes got kinda stare-y like that, and she guessed hers did as well, because he pulled back and rubbed his eyes with his hooves for a while. His muzzle got in the way, and then her muzzle got in the way, until they both began to wonder how other ponies did this at all. Cheese burst out laughing until he rolled onto his back, and Pinkie did, too, because it was so silly. Then he stopped laughing, sat up, and said, “hey,” and wrapped his front leg around her neck and kissed her, just as simple as that. And that wasn’t quite so silly, but it was warm and very, very sweet, sweeter than Rainbow Funfetti Chocolate Cotton Candy cupcakes, and something in her chest hammered, and she wanted to rocket straight up into the sky and explode from all the happy, but she’d have to stop being kissed first and she was enjoying herself right where she was.
Pinkie thought she’d like to see what happened next, but Cheesie said he was really tired and he was going to get some sleep now and she should, too, although Pinkie knew this was a big, fat fib, and that he couldn’t possibly be tired after that long nap this afternoon, and she certainly wasn’t a bit tired herself. She decided she would just pretend to sleep, but really she’d be awake, because she didn’t want to fall asleep in case something exciting happened after all and she would have missed the whole thing. She curled herself up into a rebellious, determined, and very happy little ball, but not before noticing that Cheesie slept on his back. He looked very silly. She giggled.
Yes, Pinkie thought, she definitely had liked being kissed.
~~
Cheese opened one eye and sneaked a glimpse at Pinkie Pie. She was absolutely adorable curled up like that. When she was asleep, it was easier to forget that she was Joy Herself, the Laughter-Bearer, the source of his magic, and his muse. Instead of the bright, almost blinding radiance he’d seen sometimes and which evidently only he saw, she was surrounded by a warm, rosy glow. He might be the only pony who saw that, either, but for an entirely different reason. She looked like what she was: a small, perfectly rounded pink mare, a grown-up version of the cute filly with messy pink curls he’d seen on the day his life changed forever.
She kept doing that, changing his life forever.
He reached out and allowed one curly lock to fall over his hoof. She really was as soft and squeezable as he’d thought, and her coat plusher than he’d imagined, and the overwhelmingly sweet smell of her had made him dizzy, but a good kind of dizzy; the kind of dizzy that made him cling to her tighter and pull her closer. He was always going to admire her, and she’d always be his inspiration, but right now he didn’t want to admire or be inspired. He merely wanted to snuggle. And maybe they would, later, when she was awake.
He kept screwing things up, like agreeing to a Goof-Off or accidentally trying to kiss her, and yet somehow it had all turned out ok. He’d always been surprised when other ponies didn’t take Pinkie seriously, or when they assumed she was too foalish or silly to know what was good for her, but maybe he’d been doing the same thing. Maybe Pinkie was the sort of mare who could make almost anything turn out ok. He could easily believe that.
He could see just a little bit of pre-dawn light now. Soon Celestia would raise the sun and Dawn would tint the world pink: brilliant and radiant as Pinkie Pie, bringing so much Joy with her that every morning he found himself welcoming her with a smile and murmuring, “good morning, Beautiful.” There was a long day of party planning and making other ponies happy ahead of them, and after that, who knew what would happen. They still had all the same problems, but he’d kissed her once, and that was everything.
He smiled. In a few minutes, Pinkie Pie would wake up.
And he knew exactly what he’d say.
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Bravo! A very nice CheesePie fic.
You... can you just... never stop writing cuteness for these two, but dammit at least give us a break because my heart.
You make these two work so well, I don't even understand it. The way you characterize them, write them, play them out, it's astonishing and I love it i love it i love it this is why you're one of my fave authors GAH. Your work is so sugary sweet and adorable, I seriously wanna hug you. Your work makes my heart explode with cuteness and tears of happiness dare to form in my eyes.
You're awesome, scoots. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Wait? It's over? ...Darn.
It was nice to see Cheese finally making a move though. Seeing him duck away at the beginning was a bit irking. Then the (maybe?) cop-out with why he says what he says, though in reality, he really does have a point about the morning pinkness. But the tails. It's nice to see he's doing something forward.
Not that he wasn't earlier of course. Because really, I had a constant "NOW KISS" vibe going on after that second chapter, my inner ships sailing. Still though, a very nice way to conclude this, and I'm not really spoiling anything in saying I'll be looking forward to more. You've got quite a long series going here.
Hooray for shout-outs! Already people are adopting my little town for their headcanons. I'm so happy.
Also, their attempts at that kiss were so adorably awkward, and I loved how they just laughed about it before we got the real deal. Ah, the moment we CheesePie fans have been waiting for.
So, sequel? This is much to good to simply end here.
OMG OMG you!!! Are so awesome I swear your gonna make me explode of cuteness I love your writing just LOVE you writing!!!! :D
I... I... I love this story so much. It is beautiful and heart-warming, and everything that Cheese and Pinkie said makes sense to me. I understand the concept of Joy. And then the end. I... there are no words to describe the cuteness of that kiss!! GAH! And now if you excuse me I have to cry in a corner because that was the end...
No but honestly, this was beautiful and I admire your work. Never stop writing. Ever. Because this story alone made at least my world a better place.
Thank you!!!
This is perhaps the most beautiful thing he could have said to her. Perhaps more beautiful even than "I love you" ... but then it also mplies "I love you," doesn't it? And much more.
South-Dunnich, actually. The implied geography is that Nickerlite is about 50 miles from Ponyville along the western rail line (not the one that goes south toward Appleloosa) and that South-Dunnich is around 6 miles south of Nickerlite, with the Pie Rock Farm another 4 or so miles southwest of Dunnich. The main town used to be South-Dunnich, with Nickerlite a satellite farming community, but then around 20-25 years ago the railroad ran through Nickerlite, bypassing Dunnich because the terrain was unfavorable for the earlier-tech steam locomotives, and since then South-Dunnich has been dying, its younger population moving to Nickerlite where the new businesses are opening to serve the rail traffic.
Wow. That's Zen, that is.
I do like that the telepathic connection is at least partially two-way.
Ugh. Jersey jokes. I feel Cheese's pain there. (Headcanon: Neigh Jersey's founders were a pony and a cow. Hence the name.)
Nickerlite, West Dunnich, Dredgemane... it all depends on the worldline, really. The surroundings may vary, but the rock farm is. I call it Roanstone.
Your version of Cheese Sandwich fascinates me. An introverted party pony, that pony is he. A fascinating contradiction, forced outside his comfort zone so often that he doesn't really remember where it is anymore. So he sallies onward, driven by his duty and his devotion. And it is devotion, as much in a religious sense as a romantic one. Heck, Cheese can't even see Pinkie's physical aspect most of the time, which is a fascinating spin on their relationship. To perceive this incarnate, luminous nimbus of elemental Joy... no wonder he thinks he's unworthy of her.
In any case, thank you for another magnificent slice of CheesePie, and the strange reality of party ponies.
*tried to find perfect image to go with fanfic comment* ... *failed spectacularly and is not at all concerned by it*
There is no image to properly convey the amount of sweetness, joy, and warmth that Good Morning, Beautiful contains. Forever. Actually, there aren't any words either. You took all of them and turned it into a story.
I'll just have to make due with this tribute.
This was just SO adorable!
I honestly can't even describe how much I love this story! 
This really made my day.
Great job!
loved this chapter
You most definitely deserve the spotlight. I started following following you not only because of your plethora of Cheese Pie stories, bit also because of how well they're written.
4583283 Absolutely! I don't know if they were paid by the letter, but there was a lot of fooling around and filling up awkward spots with typeface.
4583537 You know, I don't think I could have done this if I'd set out to do it intentionally. I know we were talking at one point about ways that we can all write these two party ponies without constantly writing about nothing but parties, and I worried that I couldn't do that, but yes, I guess I've shown Cheese doing all sorts of things. Without intending it, I've probably been filling in Cheese's side of the story as the show went on its way. And that is good to know, as I was worried about writing POV Pinkie and keeping her in character. Now I'm much less spooked to try it when necessary.
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4585151 Thanks!
4585757 Aw!
My Muse lives on cotton candy and bubble gum, evidently. I wish I could tell you where it comes from. I do think there's a voracious desire for "sweet" romance that goes mostly unsatisfied anymore. Yeah, these guys are cute. I love writing them, and it probably shows.
4585811 Of course, Cheese is a weeny bit handicapped by the courtly love thing he has going on, which is one of the next obstacles these guys are going to have to work on. She kind of is the Beatrice to his Dante, but she's also a thoroughly silly mare who tries to teach the history of the Wonderbolts through interpretive rap. He'll figure it out. And while I don't have any real plans to keep going, or rather, I don't know what's next, something always does keep popping up, so at this point I am pretty sure there will be more.
4585875 Yes, indeedy doodle! It's your reward for creating such a compelling version of Pie Rock Farm and environs.
These guys were never going to have a Cinemascope smootcherino with Rachmaninoff playing in the background, but then it's their first kiss and nopony else's right?--so it has to fit them.
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4585971 Thanks! And while I don't have anything actually planned, that's what I said after Swear on Camembert and then It Bombed in Seaddle. I would have sworn I was done then. I'd say it's pretty likely that there will be more CheesePie in regular FiM-verse, and of course the EG CheesePie I write, too.
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4586023 Aw, thanks! I like brightening people's days almost as much as Pinkie, I think, and I like having some other good stuff mixed in with my romance.
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4586532 I'm always curious to know what you'll think!
Yep. Obviously, I think they really are. Even if circumstances prevented them from a romantic connection, I think they've got a pretty unbreakable bond going on there. It's rare enough for even more ordinary people to feel understood in this world, and even more so for characters like Pinkie and Cheese, which is possibly why I find writing about them both fun and uplifting.
Yeah, I had to think about how spooky Cheese would find it if he knew. I don't know if he'd like it if he thought she could hear every single thing he thought, but I don't think she can, and what he's taking away from it is that someone truly gets him and cares enough to listen.
Rainbow Dash's remarks fall squarely into the category of "you're not helping." This was another decision, but I really did enjoy giving Spike some dignity and importance here. He may enjoy being Important just a little too much, but he's a DRAGON, for heaven's sake. If you're going to imagine a fully grown up dragon who isn't just a super speeded up greed monster, you still have the potential for a creature of terrific dignity who enjoys titles, riches, and flattery--and that's a great choice for someone to keep things running in court. Twilight will never want to waste time on smiling and waving (and even Spike thinks that's a bit on the low level), but I think he understands the importance of ceremony far better than she does. He spends most of his life being helpful and working with Twilight and her books. Dang skippy he knows how important they are to her. He's been The Dragon With The Checklist since forever--it would be insulting to say, "oh, yeah, Spike, you don't get to do that anymore, now that it's important."
It's fun to imagine Spike as a sort of cross between Smaug and the Reluctant Dragon. And while I still have some issues with thinking about Sparity, dang--would that ever be a match for Rarity, or what? I never see him drawn this way. Most Sparity pictures I've seen make him look kind like the adolescent dragon in Secret of My Excess. But perhaps I am not looking in the right places.
Well--Cheese is nervous. And you gotta give him props for not wanting to kiss a mare who hasn't expressly indicated she wants to be kissed. Later, you're just getting the kind of cold feet you might expect from an adolescent guy and/or a courtly lover who's been informed that his terrestrial Venus wants him to take her to the movies.
I saw that particular line as indicative of the other relationship they have--the mystical one that comes out of a devotion to Joy. Spreading the Joy he's received from Pinkie is the happiest thing Cheese ever gets to do. It sets him on fire. It's not a job--it's a vocation (which actually, ponies get to do more than people, come to think of it. No wonder they're comparatively happier than people.) Losing that connection would be much tougher for him than losing a romantic love relationship, even though he knows that sustaining the one without the other would be hard (once other partners stepped into the picture.)
Although it's funny--I assumed you'd zero in on the line where Pinkie thinks that other ponies assume she doesn't even know the difference between mares and stallions, and she does, too--in terms of snack preference. [Pause for assumption that she has no clue.] Oh, yes, and babies. That, too. She may be an innocent, but she's not a fool, and she grew up on a farm, for heaven's sake. Even a rock farmer's got to come into contact with nature sometime! I did, however, enjoy suggesting that she is looking forward to whatever comes next, whatever that would be and whenever that would be, the way a kid looks forward to Christmas morning. Because I think she would.
4586596 It is VERY Zen. Yeah, I grew up in New Jersey, can you tell? There's a horse head and a plough on the seal, so maybe you're right.
By the way, I REALLY appreciate how well you're picking up where I'm going with this. It is, in fact, a heavily spiritualized relationship. Just because it involves stuff like joy buzzers doesn't mean it can't be, right? And Cheese may think he's unworthy, but honestly, the only pony who would be worthy would be one who didn't think he was worthy, in a way. Pinkie at rock bottom would need someone who appreciated her uniqueness, and that he certainly does.
Or as I've said before, Dante and Beatrice, but with party ponies.
4586860 That means you liked it, right?
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4590404 Thank you! I try to give my best to this. It's silly and funny and a hobby, but it wouldn't be fun if it wasn't good, or at least the best I can do.
4592904 Reading the previous story, Goodbye Boneless, might help.
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I also think that emotionally-intense romance works a lot better than flat reference to sex ("We banged") or Ikea-erotica (you probably don't want me to give you an example here), especially from the point if view of still respecting one's characters in the morning.
I'm half-joking in that paragraph, of course, but only half.
The way a character views events in her world implies things about her attitudes and personality. If sexual consummation is described as being emotionally-meaningless, then the impression given is of a cold and ruthless personality. For that matter, if a first kiss is described as being emotionally-meaningless, I have to wonder if the character is even alive in her own head. I had absolutely no problem writing more passion into Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash cuddling in front of a campfire (a totally G-rated scene) than I've seen in much fiction in which characters are actually having sex. And if a scene is described primarily in terms of physical positioning, with no emotions (Ikea-erotica) then the impression is given of some sort of odd athletic performance, and one wonders, where are the judges holding up the scorecards?
I, personally, have trouble sympathizing with characters who are cold and ruthless, or obsessed with their own athleticism, during which what should be one of the most emotionally-meangful things they can do with other characters. In fact, a love scene written like that, if done badly enough, can call into question the sincerity of the characters' emotions for one another -- and what is the point of a love scene if not to show how the characters feel toward each other?
A long, emotionally-flat love scene is also boring. Unless one is a teenager reading a book looking for the "dirty bits," there's not much point to it. It is the romantic equivalent of badly-written military fiction in which one can tell that the writer just played it out as a wargame and described the turn-by-turn events, often without even being careful about point-of-views or having the characters have any feelings about, oh, having their best friend's tank blown up right in front of them and said best friend roasted alive.
(Which raises another issue with Ikea-erotica -- just who exactly is seeing everything that happens, from the outside? Are the characters filming themselves and then relaxing afterward with popcorn and sodas, writing a commentary?)
The way, incidentally, to make a sparse "We had sex" or "We kissed" love scene past tense reference work is to first have the sparse description, then have the POV character discusss his or her emotional reaction to the reality of what has happened. One can then demonstrate character in the details of the emotional reaction: "My heart soared as I realized that at last I had found true love" shows very different affect from "I was pleased by her skill at kissing, and deemed her moderately acceptable though in need of some coaching regarding her nose-positioning." The latter phrase might actually work if thought by a very cold and calculating character, or one who was being deliberately sarcastic.
As for "respecting one's characters in the morning," this applies to both the other characters and the readers. If a character describes sex as "we banged," and that's it, one seriously doubts that it meant much to him, or that he respects her. If the characters are okay with this sort of relationship, I as the reader can't really take their stated emotional relationships very seriously: they're just a bunch of drunk college kids on Spring Break, only without the emotional vulnerability.
Sorry for the digression -- reading your love scenes, which are really written well, made me think about just why I hate love scenes that are written poorly. In passing, I'll note that I've read love scenes by 19th-century writers who were constrained by absurdly tight social conventions in terms of what they were allowed to describe in a respectable novel which pack more emotional affect into hand-holding and soulful gazing than many 20th-21st century authors manage to do in chapter-long explicit sex. Both in terms of the effect on the characters, and the effect on the reader.
Of course, Cheese is Dante as he would have been if The Divine Comedy had been a protracted poetic essay on the subject of how to have happy and morally-uplifting parties and a theological examination of the snack bars in various afterlives ....
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I was thinking about the fact that the Mane Six are essentially rather awesome characters -- each of them emodies (however imperfectly) a cardinal Virtue of their civilization's moral philosophy, they have super-powers, and they fight against foes of (literally) titanic proportions in defense of their world. And that this is also true of Pinkie Pie -- she's silly, but she's awesomely silly.
I see her as a true Heroine -- did you notice that one of the things I added to my version of "Dragonshy" (Dragonshyness), even though it was mainly from Fluttershy's viewpoint, was an examination of Pinkie Pie's character? First there's the scene where she pushes her power to the limits saving everypony from the avalanche, then the one in which she defies her divine sire to stick by her friends, then her brave entry into the Dragon's lair despite the fact that she knows she has almost no power left; finally her stoicism when she walks down the mountain after having been significantly battered about by said Dragon.
Pinkie is actively silly, but she's not at all weak: like all the Pie Sisters (yes, even the fully-mortal Limestone and Marble), she has a core as tough as the rocky hills her family farms. She's strong, honorable and courageous, and she accomplishes great things by the exercise of her heroic determination.
I really hate it when writers depict her as a stupid airhead. They're missing the whole point of her character: that the ability to enjoy life is not stupid or weak, that instead it is a victory of Life and Love over the harshness of the Universe (which is, ultimately, the meaning of the Smile Song).
You really get Pinkie's character. In fact, your portrayal of her has greatly informed mine. When I write Pinkie Pie now, I tend to think of your version as one of my reference points.
And that wraps up a sweet little story full of cute little moments.
You sir, just made a CheesePie shipper out of me.
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I think avoiding the parties isn't hard. It's a case of having something for him to do and making it something brief enough that it might not conflict with his destiny. Pinkie does it all the time, but then I'm pretty sure she does a lot of planning and throwing of parties off-screen as well. I've also recently realized that the party isn't even an issue. It depends on the how, the why, the when, the where, and the with who for any given party. The devil is in the details, as always.
As far as Pinkie's POV goes... You're right that she is a hard one to write for, but I think having a strong grasp on her character helps. People won't mind as long as she's taken seriously, without being turned into a drama bomb, I think. It's all about treating Pinkie with respect. The same holds true for every other character, honestly. Piss poor characterization stems from a lack of understanding and a lack of concern for understanding the character in question.
Besides, I think you've proven you're one with the party pony by this point. There's always going to be some difference in how any one portrays Pinkie and Cheese, but some people are more attuned than others.
And yes, I loved it. The third chapter was so many warm fuzzies... Seriously, I can't find a more coherent response and others have already pointed out most of the best tidbits anyway. They just felt so real, up-beat, and tender, while being distinctly them. I wish I could say more, but right now I can't. This is the sort of story I want to bask in, though. You even did a good job with the mind reading, which is a trope that I normally despise, especially in romance. Better yet, I can believe they might be able to do that.
This is why I love CheesePie. Everything is possible, and anything that isn't possible isn't necessary.
I don't think you should feel bad about enjoying the likes and favs. That kind of stuff can be fuel for a writer - since writing is such a lonely task. A little encouragement, even after the writing's done, goes a long way.
And, just to say it myself, I really liked this story. It felt like it was from Pinkie Pie's perspective, to the point where it's almost like she wrote it. And I really liked that feeling.
You deserve the feature and you deserve the cupcake. You are my favorite CheesiePie writer.
I would be now shouting "WRITE A SEQUEL!", if I wouldn't know that you will write it anyways. You have a really nice multi-story arc and I don't think you would want to stop now, when "he knew exactly what he’d say.".
Well, that was well beyond excellent. You have an exceptional gift for writing Pinkie Pie, as in your prose truly manages to live up to the sheer joy she is.
I applaud you, friend.
I call it New Derby. Located between Fillydelphia and Manehattan
Awwwwwwwwww
Another beautiful piece, thank you.
Awww! this was too cute! it gave me so many feels, and all the right kinds, too. i audibly "D'aww"-ed near the end. this and Goodbye Boneless were amazing
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVED IT YOU MADE ME FEEL LIKE I WAS GOING TO BURST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
4594077 The words every author of a shipfic longs to hear.
4595320 Maybe it's that Pinkie likes to throw all KINDS of parties--cutecenearas, birthday parties, hang around in the old dark castle and scare the crap out of your friends parties, National Random Holiday parties. . . and she has this particularly charming way of deciding that TODAY is Officially Everypony Picnic Yay Day and then Making It So.
I never get tired of hearing this.
To the extent that it works, it probably does because they're both so unusual, and Pinkie frequently does have flashes of deep down intuition anyhow--and that's with ponies she didn't necessarily have a connection with as she does with Cheese (and here, I'm just talking about her having changed his life and brought on his cutie mark and his vocation, not her necessarily remembering or having any particular feelings about him.) Plus, I've been careful to suggest that she can't always get words. Sometimes, but mostly she gets feelings and thoughts, and those aren't always that concrete. It's a lot more like hearing a pitch than reading a letter. As for him, he couldn't read her thoughts, but a pony rolling on her back is showing how comfortable she is, and it's easy to fill in the dots if you're with someone who is very much like you and to whom you're really paying attention.
4601308 Thanks! I worked very hard to get that perspective across and changed narrative voice a few times before I was at all happy with it.
4601434 No, I think it's safe to say that I know exactly what's coming next for these guys.
4604601
What a nice thing to say!
4636856 Thank YOU, too!
4639319 Yup. She's like a pink bolt of lightning.
4642656 Thanks!
4655446
4655661 Aw, thanks! And I share Pinkie's fondness for cupcakes, I have to admit.
4593380
They kind of are. That's the way the romantic novel initially started. Early on, they were epistolatory novels--letters explaining what happened to a correspondent. And I wish I could remember which literary critic I read pointed this out, but third person intentionally creates distance from whatever the "I" person does. You can't write, "I had no idea how beautiful I looked as I stood at the top of the stairs in my [insert intense costume porn description]" and still have the character seem innocent and unself-conscious; and in the old world of the romance novel, that is the only kind of behavior which proves that the heroine "deserves" the hero. (Elinor Glyn hits the nail on the head with her description of "It." If you think you've got "It," you don't have "It." "It" is just something you have.) So basically the romance novel sex scene really is "emotion recollected in tranquility." It's not that unusual. Women mostly carry around a camera in their heads analyzing what they look like to an outside observer all the time anyhow.
In drama and in writing, restrictions can be your friend. My very favorite example is from Alfred Hitchcock's movie, Notorious. The Hayes Code only permitted a kiss that was _____ in duration. And Hitch gave the Breen Office what they wanted. Will you look at these guys NOT kiss? It's amazing.
Yep. Also,
Your rendition of CheesePie is just might be the best relationship portrayed on this site. Their connection is so sweet and deep that I think I must be reading into it. It's not even ruined by mush or sexual tension!
Simply ineffable, CheesePie forever.
4720560 Thank you so much. That's a great compliment, and I do think of it that way. I hope I can stay away from too much mush and sexual tension in the future! He's certainly strongly attracted to her, but I'd like to think there's a lot more to it than that.
4724540
I really liked The Wheel and the Butterfly for some of the same reasons as this story. Dan and Pinkie really understood each other in ways that seemed foreign to the rest of the world. Unfortunately, after Dan and Pinkie were 'officially together', it seemed to be sex, sex, and more sex (at least for a good number of chapters that made me give it up).
But I think you're on the right track. The way you've written these characters makes me feel that your writing couldn't take a turn for the worst. In these stories Pinkie and Cheese are just so comfortable around each other and have such a deep seated connection. That's the sort of romance I love. The tension in the story is so much more meaningful than the anxious, awkward, "Does she like me back?" or fanservicey shipteasing.
This story has been on my mind since I read it last night. It makes me so happy, and a little bit lonely. At least I have a Pinkie Pie plushie to squeeze the cuteness out of. Bravo.
Wow. You write an excellent Pinkie Pie. It takes a lot of skill to get down that perfect balance of silly being perfectly logical and serious business, and you hit the nail on the head here. Cheese was equally well done. Two party ponies, two entirely different worlds.
I also really enjoyed the worldbuilding aspect. Cheese and Pinkie Sense was interesting, but all those little details with the castle were really standout. They made a standard talky scene into a curiosity all its own. I can't wait for Twi to find out that Pinkie has subliminally altered the very essence of her house
In short, have a like, a fav, and a ribbon:
i.imgur.com/6MrWqNZ.png
4856912
<---- Pinkie's reaction to Cupcakes HD
<---- My reaction to regular cupcakes
¡This is so funny!
Seriously, given that ponies do not usually wear clothes, even small foals should know the difference between mares and stallions.
4801294 Yes,yes,yes!!
This was such a wonderful and beautiful read I really cant say as much as I'd like to!
Thanks so much for this!
BTW: This is the best paragraph in the story - and very inspirational!
Omnia mea mecum porto. A lifestyle I sometimes wish I had the temperament for. Maybe in a few decades when I can upload all my stuff and carry it around on a USB stick…
4801294 Thank you so much, again (and finally!) Twilight shouldn't have allowed Pinkie to do all that initial exploring. Now they've got a dungeon, which seems to have grown just for the lullz.
5003175 Aw, thanks.
5399650 Heaven knows I wish I had the temperament for that kind of lifestyle, too, but I've got too many books to do that.
5399984 Thank yourself!
5399984
Books are not my problem. Everything I actually read, I read electronically—almost all the physical books I’ve bought in over a decade have been autographed, and they could all fit in one box. It’s everything else I accumulate—toys, gadgets, posters, event t-shirts—the mementos of basically everything interesting I’ve ever done. While it’d all fit in a big storage unit, I’ve never learned to stop acquiring “stuff”, so it just keeps growing, at a rate of something like a couple office boxes a year.
Every time I move, I gain new appreciation for the Buddhist idea that our possessions own us, rather than vice versa.
5635720 Oh, thanks! I'm glad you like it.
You can has review!
6250350 Thank you!
Neigh Jersey... really? Lol
this is the cutest thing ever. i think i got diabetes just reading it
You could just, Y’know, kiss him.