Be sympathetic, but proud Anon. It didn't take long to notice how nerve-racking the daytime outing was for your roommate, but she was sticking with it anyway. It's only her first day of being out of the hospital after a traumatizing event, and she's already out here facing a fear head-on. Well, more like head titled down and covered by a sweater hood, but it's still inspiring.

You didn't leave the room the princesses provided you with for five days after you were first sucked into Equestria. You aren't a wimp or anything, it was all just very jarring, landing in a strange land and being surrounded by strange creatures. Seriously, you think they're cute now, but those giant pony eyes were just plain eerie the first time you saw them.

Like shiny white baseballs. Ew, now you're imagining what it would be like to palm one of those. What do they use during Halloween for the blindfold feeling game? Meatloaves in spaghetti?

"Um, Anon, w-we're at the store."

"Huh? Oh! We are. Sorry, just zoned out for a bit." Giving your companion an apologetic smile, you look up to see the generic, 7-Eleven like building in front of you. Even the inside reminded you of Earth. A bored, acne-faced teen behind the register. Buzzing, occasionally flickering lights over head. The humming of the slushy machines and squeaking of rollers keeping overpriced corn dogs and taquitos from burning under heating lamps. Ah, the memories.

Floor takes it upon herself to give you the guided tour, showing you all the racks where her favorite snacks reside. She has decidedly economic tastes for a NEET, preferring the off-brand products in lieu of things like Hill Mist soda and HorseRitos. Unfortunately, she still liked energy drinks, a fact made clear when she pulls seven from the refrigerator in the back.

"Uh, I don't think so," you say, intercepting her hoof as she reached for another.

"W-what? Do you not like Smooze? We can get a different kind."

"No, I don't like energy drinks, period. Stuff's just overpriced poison, and there's no way I'm letting you drink eight cans of it on my watch. You'd be back in the hospital by morning from a heart attack." She shrinks into herself and mumbles meekly about how you were going to split them, getting you to heave a sigh and go down on one knee.

"Hey, I'm not mad, I'm just trying to look out for you, is all," you say gently, placing a hand under her chin to guide her eyes to yours, letting her see for herself you weren't angry. "And besides, they really are expensive. I mean, look, nearly three bits for one. We could get two large cappuccinos for that. And for the price of all eight, we can come back everyday of the week and get coffee together. Wouldn't that be nice?"

She begin to nod, picking up speed until she's practically headbanging, smiling wide. Shit, It's good thing she didn't use that cuteness to get the energy drinks from you. You doubt you could resist.

"Okay, okay, Let's get some coffee then." you say, moving to the machine in the back and pulling loose two of the largest-sized styrofoam cups from the dispenser and handed one down to Floor. Damn horsie land. Everything was lower to account for short, little equines, so you have to bend your knees some to fill your cup. A couple years living here and you're either going to have buns of steel or blown out kneecaps.

Cups filled, you go to the register and wait uninterested for the cashier to finish scanning everything in until he tells you the total.

"That'll be 36.50, sir," the teen droned.

"Seriously?" Looking at the counter, you soon realize that, yes, there was quite a lot there. Did you really need five family-size bags of potato chip? "You have any bits on you, Floor?"

The little mare taps the front pocket of her hoodie, the empty fabric falling around her hoof while she gives you an apologetic look. "S-sorry, I forgot to grab my bit bag."

No splitting the bill, then. With a sigh, you turn back to the counter. "I'm sorry, but I'm going have to remove a few items."

With an apathetic "Whatever," the colt begins voiding items, waiting impatiently while you try to get Floor to choose what to keep. Ten minutes later, you're walking our the front door, the handles of a plastic bag wrapped around the fingers of one hand, a coffee cup grasped in the other, and a moping pony a step behind you.

"Sorry we couldn't get all your snacks, Floor, but I still want to get some other stuff for the fridge."

"It's okay, I'm sorry you had to pay for it all by yourself." she responds, regret clear in her voice.

You smile a little and slow down, letting the mare reach your side so you could reach down and pet her between the ears. "Hey, it's not a big deal, and you know, it's probably a good thing, anyway so much junk food isn't good for you, and I plan on getting us something healthy. You'll see, I'm not a chef or anything, but I bet I can make something way tastier then prepackaged junk."

Floor Bored is now looking up at you with sparkles in her eyes, like she's seeing snow for the first time or something. It's... kinda weird.

You are Floor Bored, a completely undeserving pony. How did a NEET like you end up with a colt- a nice colt- living with you? Especially one who just offered to cook for you. A pony hasn't done that since you still lived with GramGram. That was something s-special someponies did.

As you scream internally, you do your best to keep your expression neutral... and fail miserably as the dopey grin refuses to leave your face. Luckily with your hood up and head down, nopony can see it. Deep down, you know he's only with you because it's his job. That he's just making sure you don't try to end it again. But it's nice to pretend otherwise and that he truly cares.

The fact that he was trying at all must mean he at least cares a little, right? And maybe if you don't be the massive loser you are, he'll begin to care for real. And so, you're on your best behavior while Anon does his shopping, having taken the two of you to a proper grocery store.

The novelty of it almost helps you ignore all the ponies milling about. You haven't seen many of these fruits and vegetables out of crisp, fried form in forever. Are those shiny red things really what your favorite apple chips are made of? Wild.

Oh shoot, Anon's talking. Listen, mare! "-You can get fresh produce way cheaper then the prepackaged stuff, too. I mean, seriously, look at this, a pound of potatoes for two bits. How much did that bag we got cost? 3.50? And there's probably only two spuds tops in it. Maybe we can buy some oil while we're here and fry up our own. Fresh chips hot out of the kettle will blow your mind. How's that sound? Good?"

"Uh-huh." No, not this again! Speak like an adult! "I-I mean, yeah, sounds good."

"You have any requests? I'm sure I can figure out how to make it if you have anything specific you want to eat."

Your mind races at the offer, trying to think of something that you'd like and that wouldn't seem like asking too much. "Maybe... mac'n'cheese? My GramGram used to make it for me whenever I had a bad day at school..." So most days until you graduated after a repeat of your senior year. GramGram always said it was your mom's favorite growing up, so it was kind of like a special connection between you and the mare you could hardly remember.

"Mac'n'cheese...? Yeah, I can do that. Just cheese, milk, butter, salt, pepper, and macaroni. Let's pick the stuff up and make some tonight. Thinking about it is actually making me hungry."

Satisfied you made the right choice, you nod and trot happily behind him. you can't wait to have mac'n'cheese again, and you especially can't wait to try Anon's. It was hard to believe after how the day began, that you could feel this happy. That Anon could make you feel this happy.

Maybe you can help him make dinner tonight so he doesn't think you're useless. The two of you side by side in the kitchen, working so closely that you rub against each other. You giggle like a filly just thinking about, and practically skip all the way back home when you're finally done shopping.

You are Anonymous, currently filled with the warm fuzzies. You watch Floor Bored happily chew a mouthful of tonight's dinner as you take your own bite of cheesy goodness. Admittedly, it isn't great, the ratios of cheese and milk being a bit off for your liking, but seeing the little mare before you so full of life after the dark days prior, you can't help but smile.

The two of you sit on a couple of cleared patches of kitchen linoleum since Floor lacked much furniture. Your back against the now partially stocked refrigerator and her sitting across from you. With her forehooves holding her food and back legs spread apart, you get a glance of her underwear, and a question lingers on your tongue. "Say, Floor, I've been wondering, what's with the clothes?"

they really are strange, especially the lower garment. You weren't an expert on Equestrian society, but you were pretty sure panties were erotic somehow. At least, that's what you've gathered from the covermares on the adult magazine racks at the convenience store earlier.

Floor must have missed them though, since she tilts her head, spoon hanging from her mouth. "You know, the sweater, and, uh, underwear." At the clarification, she blushes and breaks eye contact.
"It's... I just... I like them... because I feel cold."

The answer was lacking certainty, but you could tell she was uncomfortable, so you accept it for now. "Huh, well if it makes you happy, wear whatever you want. It's just that, you know, I don't exactly see a lot of ponies with clothes on, mostly they're naked or just have some little accessories like ties or hats. You look good, though."

Floor jolts at this, staring wide-eyed. "Yeah, it's... unique," you continue, giving a chuckle. "The two of us together, we're like the clothed duo. Maybe we should become models, yeah It'd probably bring in more bits, at least."

You're joke isn't a hit, it seems, seeing as Floor's expression falls slightly while she stares into her empty bowl. "Th-thanks for the food, Anon, it was really good," she says, standing up.

"Thanks, you want more? I made enough for each of us to have two bowls."

She opens her mouth, but doesn't speak right away. "... No, I'm... I'm full."

You watch, puzzled, as the little mare drops her bowl into the sink before ambling towards her bedroom. Stopping, she peeks over her shoulder. "I'm... just gonna sleep a little."

With that, she steps inside and gently closes the door, leaving you confused on what you said. It wasn't comedy gold, but you thought it would at least get a giggle from her. With a sigh, you move to the sink and place your own bowl in besides Floor's, turning the water on.

Be Floor Bored, staring at a blanket on the wall. You aren't afraid of the red fabric, no. You're afraid of what's behind it.

With a long sigh, you begin to strip down, dropping the hoodie before hesitantly reaching for your panties. Sliding them off after a moment, you look at the blanket once again and reach a hoof forward. With a gulp, you whip it down, eyes slammed shut at the first reflective glint revealed, until you force yourself to look.

Your reflection looks back. Dull eyes, so dark that the color is indistinguishable in the low light of your room, both carrying heavy bags even after the extra sleep you got at the hospital. Your plain cream coat is cleaner than you remember. Again thanks to the hospital. Unblemished by the sweat stains and grime usually there. Unblemished even by a cutie mark.

The panties didn't cover your flanks entirely, but with them on, you could at least pretend you perhaps had cutie marks riding high on the unappealing bottom, just beneath the fabric. Hip bones just starting to show, same as your ribs. Maybe that's what he was talking about? Models are supposed to be thin, after all. You'd rather believe that than him making fun of you.

You're sure he wasn't, he's been so nice after all, but you couldn't fathom any other reason for him to compliment your looks. Head falling forward, you are reminded of yet another of your many flaws. Your greasy mane blocking your sight. At least you aren't looking at your reflection.

Without a sound, you go about slipping your clothes back on, ears perking backwards. A few clinks and running water can be heard. Anon must be doing the dishes, something you should've done. It's the least you could do after he made you such good mac'n'cheese.

And it was good. Really good, in fact. You hadn't eaten so much in one sitting in... forever. Usually, you just had a few hooffuls of chips and a couple cans of Smooze a day since sitting in front of a computer didn't burn a lot of energy.

Feeling exhausted, you climb into bed and stare at the wall. Normally, this would be where you'd laid awake for an hour while waiting for sleep to come, but you instead take the time to reminisce on the strange day. Even the most embarrassing part of it brought a small smile to your lips. You thought Anon was going to comment on how stupid and clumsy you were right there.

But he didn't. He helped you instead. Not even later, when a small voice whispered that he simply didn't want to make a scene and was waiting for you two to be alone together, did he show anger. Then you cleaned together, drank coffee together, and ate together. And he never got mad at you.

It's on these thoughts that you quickly drift asleep on, the sound of Anon's presence in the other room providing a rare comfort for your tired mind.
...
...
... *Rrrrip!*

"Whos'a'whats'it!" Frantically flinging your gaze around the room in search of danger, another tearing sound saws through the door. Rolling out of bed slowly, you belly crawl across the floor to spy through the crack along the bottom. A shadow passes by and your heart begins to thunder in your chest... Until you hear Anon grumbling.

Oh, yeah, he's living here now. How long were you asleep? Time was never of much concern to you, so the clock display at the bottom of your computer monitor was usually enough, but that wasn't much of an option right now. Well, you've slept enough for the coffee to finally reach your bladder. Are there any bottles around?

Wait! No! You're using the potty from now on, remember?

Standing, you take a deep breath and open the door. Quickly noticing a difference. For one, there is no more trash anywhere in the room save for the pile of garbage bags in the corner. Also, half of your carpet is torn up.

"Sorry if I woke you, Floor, but I don't usually hit the sack until after ten, so I figured I'd get some housework done tonight." Anon is is kneeling, box cutter in hand, and sans a shirt. "Uh... you okay?"

You realize you stopped blinking when your eyes begin to water, and snap your jaw shut, pointing to the right. "B-bathroom..."

"Yes... it is over." He raises a brow. "Do you... need to use it?"

"Y-yes! Yes I do!" Trying to get out of sight as fast as possible, you dash to the bathroom and slam the door, falling against it and breathing heavily.

What. Was that.

You see naked ponies all the time. It hasn't been a big deal since you found your GramGram's old PlayMare collection in the back of her closet. That was when you were thirteen! And you've seen way more since then. You do have the internet, after all. So why was Anon's bare chest so... tantalizing?

And were those nipples? Why does the colt have nipples? Why did you like that the colt had nipples? Your search history is proof of how straight you are. Feeling moisture beneath your bottom, you're afraid you just peed yourself until you wink against the tiles.

"Ah! Cold!" You jump and turn around, blushing at the sight of your arousal. Wow, you haven't managed to get yourself in this kind of state with imagination alone since you were a filly at the peak of puberty. What was Anon doing to you?

With a shaky breath, you grab some tissue paper and clean up the mess, which was luckily small. Tossing the wad in the toilet, you set about doing what you came here for. Standing so that the trough-like toilet was directly beneath you, you close your eyes and relax, the sound of trickling water soon filling the room

Huh, you don't know why didn't do this more often, It's a lot easier than trying to aim into a bottle, and the walk from your bedroom to the bathroom was far from a long one. Guess you've always been an idiot, but at least Anon was here now. He gave you a reason to better yourself. You wanted to be better for him...

Another splash of liquid into the toilet, this time not urine, has you blushing furiously. Batteries or not, Mister Quiver was earning his keep tonight.

Taking a few minutes to calm yourself and let your nethers cool, you step out of the bathroom. Remember the plan, Floor, just maintain eye contact. Say a quick hello, then calmly return to your bedroom until Anon dresses himself. Easy.

Turning, you meet Anon's gaze when he looks up from his work. That's it, just keep looking into his eyes. His, tiny, strangely cute eyes... You never noticed what a striking shade of green they were.

"Do I have something on my face? Oh crap, it's not carpet slime, is it?" You blink rapidly, Anon unintentionally breaking the spell when he brakes eye contact to wipe at his face.

"Ah-Ah, Bye!" Playing it cool, and with only a minor adjustment to the plan, you dash along the wall and skid into your room, door slamming behind you. Smooth as silk.

"Oh, who am I fooling? I'm such an idiot." Burying your face into your hooves, you remain propped against the door for awhile before slowing slinking over to your bed and reaching under it. Pulling Mister Quiver out, you flip his switch a few times even knowing he won't turn on, before crawling beneath your bed and getting to work.

This is who you are. A gross mare masturbating with an uncharged vibrator amongst the rest of the garbage in the dark. It's who you'll always be.

You're Anon, sweaty and rolling the last column of moldering carpet up to place it against the wall with the rest. You move to rub the sweat from your brow when you remember your hands and forearms are covered in slime. You wish you could have picked up rubber gloves for the job, but alas, you are a sole handy man in a country of hooves.

Minotaurs are a thing in this world, right? Maybe you can import some hand-compatible stuff from wherever they are. A thought for another time. For right now, Anon wants to get clean.

Getting to your feet, your knees crack from their stiffness and you hiss slightly, before moving towards the bathroom. You hesitate by Floor's door, tempted to knock. She's had a stressful day, but you think she enjoyed it overall, so you doubt she'd have done anything bad to herself.

Putting an ear up to the door, you listen for a few seconds, breath held until you hear some sound. You can't tell what she's up to, but if she's moving, she's alive.

Satisfied for now, you go to the bathroom, and use an elbow to jostle the faucet on before, kneeling down to run your forearms under the stream. While you do this, you look over to notice tissue in the thing that passes as toilet in ponyland and the yellow tinge to the water.

At least she used the toilet unlike half the NEETs you've met. Stepping down on the button to flush for the forgetful pony, you step around it to stand next to the bathtub. It's at least long enough for you to maybe lay in with your legs pulled up, and about up to your knees deep.

It's also coated in scum and bits of mold. Can't say you're surprised, though you luckily found a half-empty bottle of cleaner and some old, mildewy rags under the sink earlier.

Anon's had a long day and wants a shower, but he ain't letting his bare feet touch that gunk, so more work it is.

Sigh.

Author's Notes:

This one is one is by sraggleman