• Published 2nd Oct 2014
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Clever Scraps - cleverpun



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I Hate Hearth's Warming Music

Author's Note:

This was originally going to be a holiday story about...well, the working title should be pretty self-explanatory.

An old Creative Writing teacher of mine once said that if you're writing a story about something, like golf, it shouldn't actually be about that. Set the story in a golf course, have golf affect the characters, but don't make it about that. (I hate golf, that's just the example he used.)

So to act on this advice, I wrapped the rant about christmas music in a romance story. Ironically, this is why I ended up cutting the idea; the show already covered this exact same thing in "Secrets and Pies", and competing with the show rarely ends well.

Rarity’s heartbeat sounded so smooth. Pinkie Pie nestled her face deeper into Rarity’s coat. Rarity also smelled nice: a subtle waft of vanilla and some undertones of grass and flower petals. Even with her face pressed into Rarity’s body, it smelled so gentle.

Pinkie’s hoof flopped around, bonked into the end table.

“Pinkie, it’s okay to get up and reach over.”

Pinkie shifted her face, only the bare minimum to free her mouth. “But you’re so warm and fragrant. I don’t wanna un-cuddle.”

Rarity set her magazine down. “Pinkie Pie, choosing cuddling me over hot chocolate?” Rarity chuckled. “At least, halfway. I suppose that’s high praise.” Rarity ignited her horn grabbed the mug. “You’ll have to unattach your face to drink it, however. I don’t want any stains on me or my cushions.”

“Okay.” Pinkie rotated, grabbed the mug Rarity floated over.

The hot chocolate tasted better, too, this close to her. The scent of Rarity mingled with the chocolate, and it fluffed and smooshed together on Pinkie’s taste buds.

“I love your taste-smell,” Pinkie whispered.

Rarity chuckled. “And I love your word-voice.”

Pinkie sat up. “Ooh, you know what would make this even better?”

“Marshmallows?”

“No, I already put those in there.” Pinkie set her mug on the table, then paused, then put it back down on a coaster. “Music!”

Maybe Rarity’s noise will make the music better, just like her smell and the hot chocolate?!

Rarity sighed. “I was sort of enjoying the quiet.”

Pinkie hopped over to Rarity’s record player. “What’s your favorite Hearth’s Warming Eve song?”

Rarity coughed into a hoof. “Well, it’s so hard to choose…”

“I know right? But how about [some ponified xmas song titles]? Or maybe []?” Pinkie scanned through the shelf. Rarity’s records looked immaculate, perfectly organized, and daintily dusted as always. No Hearth’s Warming music though…

Pinkie’s property had started to mingle with Rarity’s. She knelt down to the lower, less immaculate, less organized, less dusted shelf with her records on it.

“Ooh, how about ‘The Hearth’s Warming Eve Song’? Classic, smooth, chocolate-y, it’s perfect!”

Rarity muttered something to herself.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Pinkie grabbed the record sleeve with her teeth, slipped it off, balanced the record on her nose, spun it around, then settled it onto the record player. She checked and double-checked the needle, turned the right switches, and then hopped back onto the couch just as the first few piano chords and string notes wafted out.

“Ahh… much better.” Pinkie Pie re-nestled into her spot. “Windigoes nipping at your nose…”

Pinkie groped for her mug, and then settled back into Rarity’s body.

Pinkie’s ear flicked. That’s weird. She pressed her head even more on Rarity, if that was even possible.

“Pinkie, dear, I love you and all, but I need those ribs to breath with.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your breathing sounds different.”

“Well, yes, I suppose it’s hard to breath when I’m being cuddled-crushed.”

“No, not that.” Pinkie lifted her head up. “Your breathing isn’t happy breathing anymore. Now it’s more like annoyed breathing.”

Rarity took a deep breath. Then another. Then a third, each slower than the last. “There, better?” She smiled. “Just don’t try and smush me this time, okay?”

They settled back into position, Rarity with her foreleg draped over Pinkie’s shoulder, Pinkie’s ear resting on Rarity’s chest, with two clear trenches for hot chocolate and magazine line-of-sight.

“It’s still different,” Pinkie whispered.

“What?”

“Your breathing. It’s not annoyed breathing anymore, but now it’s more like, uncomfortable breathing. Secretly-bothered-but-holding-it-in kind of breathing.”

“That is rather awfully specific.”

Pinkie Pie sat up. “Is it something I did? I’m sorry I crushled you by accident. And I remembered the coaster, just like you said last time.”

“It’s not that,” Rarity smiled. “Although I did notice and appreciate the coaster.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Rainbow Dash told me that every time somepony says that, it means there’s something I need to worry about.”

Rarity pursed her lips. “I am skeptical that Rainbow Dash is a good source of relationship advice.”

Pinkie Pie rested a hoof on Rarity’s chest. “So nothing is wrong? Really positively nothing is wrong?”

“Really.”

Pinkie’s ears drooped. “Now it’s I’m-lying-to-protect-you breathing.”

Rarity inhaled sharply. “Fine then.” She stood up, walked over to the record player. “You’re absolutely sure you want to know what is bothering me?”

Pinkie nodded. “Of course!”

To foals from one to ninety-t

Rarity held the record up, then slowly put it back into its sleeve. “I don’t like this song.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay! There’s lots of other good Hearth’s Warming music we could listen to.”

Rarity sighed. “And, well, there’s some other Hearth’s Warming songs I don’t like.”

“Like what?”

“All of them.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“What about—”

“I don’t like it.”

“And even—”

“Yes.”

“And you’re sure you don’t like—”

“That’s even worse.”

Pinkie scrunched her lips. She furrowed her brow. She squinted her eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Extremely.”

“Like, this isn’t just a right-now dislike, it’s an all the time dislike?”

“Very much so.”

Pinkie sat down, massaged her cheeks with her hooves. “When did this happen?”

“As long as I can remember, I suppose.”

Pinkie’s back straightened. “But we were cuddling last week, and I was playing Hearth’s Warming music then, too! Like, five-and-a-half days in a row!”

“Yes, and I hated the music,” Rarity swirled her hoof in a little circle. “But your mane was draped across your face in the most adorable way. I suppose your immaculate cuteness helped drown out the awful soundtrack.”

“So when I asked if that moment could be any more perfect, and you said yes, you were lying?”

Rarity bit her lip. “It was perfect because you were there.”

“But it wasn’t perfectly perfect?”

“Well…not strictly and completely, no.”

Pinkie’s ears drooped. “Oh…”







Rarity has a conversation with Rainbow Dash.

Dash chuckled, and her laughter sprayed a subtle mist of apple chunk onto the ground. “See, that’s where ya went wrong. Pinkie can’t tell the difference.”

“Between what?”

“Between lying to protect her and lying to hurt her.”



Just the other day you were going on and on about her cotton candy mane and her statuesque flanks and her blah blah blah romance” Rainbow pointed her hoof at her mouth “Gag”







My point is, whenever you do anything, its because you planned it. Even all your drama queening is on purpose. You turn it off and turn it on when you need it.

“I beg your pardon? Drama queening?”

“Yeah, like that”



Pinkie isn’t like that. She never turns it off. She’s, what’s the word… Rainbow Dash waved her hoof.

Fragile?

No… It’s like. Whatever emotions shows up, that’s what’s there. She doesn’t plan any of her emotions like you do.

She wears her heart on her sleeve?

Well, yeah, but not quite. I mean, what’s the word for someone who—

Effervescent

I thought that was for drinks?

Comments ( 1 )

A shame the show tread this ground; I liked where this was going.

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