Miscellaneous NEETpone Ideas/Shorts


                                            A variety of NEETmare ideas I've messed around with in the thread. Feel free to elaborate on them if you find somepony that strikes your fancy. The world could always use more NEET, after all.


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            Spider Lily (Earth Pony) and Stray Socks (ded) (Neet and her ghost roomie) (who was also a NEET)


                                            >"...Excuse me?"

                                            "Mm..."

                                            >"Lily?"

                                            "Mmf?"

                                            >"Lily are you uhm... awake?"

                                            >With an exasperated sigh, you roll to face the fuzzy pale blue apparition floating beside your bed.

                                            >Seeing that she immediate recoils with a panicky squeak, you assume your attempt at looking pissed worked pretty well, despite being bone tired.

                                            >"S-sorry! I'm- I'm sorry..."

                                            >You expression softens as the lanky little mare hiding behind her forehooves begins to sniffle, clearly on the verge of crying.

                                            >Bleh, now you kinda feel bad...

                                            >She was just some harmless kid, after all.

                                            "It's no biggie, Socks."

                                            >She sniffs again and lowers her hooves from her face, a few wet spots on her opaque cheeks.

                                            >She's... kind of a crybaby, too.

                                            >"R-really?"

                                            "Yeah, just... let me be if I'm trying to sleep, okay?"

                                            >She nods quickly. "I- I will, Lily! I didn't mean it interrupt, I was just... uhm..."

                                            >You sit up in your bed as she fumbles with her forehooves, her face slightly tucked into the raggedy scarf around her neck.

                                            >"O-okay so maybe I *was* meaning to interrupt, but I promise it wasn't o-out of malice!"

                                            "Whaddya want, Sockie?"

                                            >She takes a deep breath.

                                            >"I can't... sleep."

                                            >You blink.

                                            "You can sleep?"

                                            >She nods a little.

                                            >"Mmhm! Usually it's not a problem, but tonight is... a tad hard."

                                            "Why's that?"

                                            >She taps the tips of her forehooves together. "Tonight's special... Kinda."

                                            "Aw c'mon, no need to be vague... just say it!"

                                            >She rubs the back of her neck, still avoiding eye contact. "Well you see I... died. Tonight. It's going to be two years in like an hour or so..."

                                            >You feel slightly more awake now.

                                            "Oh... I'm- I'm sorry for your loss, Socks."

                                            >She lets out a soft, nervous laugh. "I- It's okay! I really didn't lose much..."

                                            >Stray Socks paws listlessly at her scarf.

                                            >"I guess I... I got what I wanted in the end."

                                            >Geez.

                                            "Was it... worth it?"

                                            >Socks shakes her head. "N-no... Not even a little."

                                            >Her fidgeting with her scarf almost seems to devolve into slow, desperate clawing, but as soon as you notice, she stops and lets her hooves fall to her sides.

                                            >"I didn't do it right, and it... hurt. A lot."

                                            >A suffocating miasma of lingering emotion begins to fill the room.

                                            >"I thought it would be quick a-and when it wasn't, I..."

                                            >As she trails off, you realize that it's getting a little hard to breathe.

                                            >Socks notices your predicament and swiftly snaps out of her haze.

                                            >She meekly floats over to your side, her face filled with worry.

                                            >"L-Lily? A-are you okay?"

                                            "Yeah, just a bit winded..."

                                            >"I'm- I'm sorry... T-that's never happened be-

                                            >You know what?

                                            >"A-ah!"

                                            >You take the opportunity to pull the gloomy ghost into a gentle hug.

                                            >She felt like the cool side of a pillow...

                                            >Perfect.

                                            >"Lily?!"

                                            "Shhh... We're gonna snuggle."

                                            >"S-snuggle...?"

                                            "What, not a fan?"

                                            >"N-no, I just..."

                                            >You smile sleepily.

                                            "Then relax, Socks. You're okay now."

                                            >"I-I'm... okay?"

                                            "Mmhm."

                                            >"I'm- I'm okay."

                                            >You brush a hoof through her long whispy mane as she nuzzles into you with a content sigh.

                                            >"T-thank you..."

                                            ~ ~ ~


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            Numeric Pager (Tries to lose her NEETdom) (Earth Pony)


                                            >Quiet nerdy mare has zero problem filling out her application, but turning it in? Well...

                                            >Lets just say she's gotten very used to her daily ritual of walking up to the library she applied to, going inside for an hour, sitting at a random table, staring at her slip of paper, trying to muster up the courage to walk up to the front desk, and then going home with her tail between her legs and an application still very much in her mouth.

                                            >At this point the librarian is more or less keeping tally.

                                            >It's been about... two weeks now.

                                            >Like usual, miss librarian doesn't expect anything to happen, at least not until some tall hominid walks up with a familiar nerd in tow.

                                            >He gestures to the mare sulking beside him.

                                            "She didn't know what the 'etiquette' for turning this in was and kind of backed herself into a mental corner by the second day."

                                            >The librarian mare adjusts her tiny glasses. "Is that true, dear?"

                                            >Nerd mare adjusts her glasses as well, avoiding eye contact. "...Yes, ma'am. I... I'm sorry for my rather uhm... rather absurd behavior..."

                                            "Gave her a talk and I think we're all good now, right?"

                                            >She nods slowly. "Yes, t-thank you sir."

                                            >The odd ape rolls his eyes.

                                            "Relax, Pager. No need for the formalities."

                                            >"Of course, sir! I-"

                                            >She shrinks down a little, quite red faced. "I'll try not to do that again, mister..."

                                            >He shrugs.

                                            "Good enough for me."

                                            >He gives her a nod.

                                            "You alright for now?"

                                            >"Mmhm..."

                                            "Alright! I'm gonna check up on a few others, I'll pick you up later."

                                            >"Thank you again for the ride, sir. ...Sorry."

                                            >He waves a hand dismissively.

                                            "It is what it is, no worries."

                                            >As he walks away, the library grows quiet once more.

                                            >And stays that way until the librarian clears her throat, making little Pager jump.

                                            >"You have something for me, correct?"

                                            >Pager takes a little step forward. "Y-yes ma'am! I have my uhm- my job application all filled out and with me!"

                                            >She rummages through one of her cardigan pockets and pulls out the very same slip she had day one.

                                            >Her head bowed as she lays the paper gently on the counter, she murmurs. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience I caused you, truly. I'm sure I missed my chance a while ago..."

                                            >The librarian gives the slip a cursory glance and then looks up at the mare with a small smile.

                                            >"Dear, I hate to break this to you, but..."

                                            >Pager's ears begin to droop.

                                            >"...You're really the only one who bothered."

                                            >"I- Huh?"

                                            >The librarian shrugs. "I'm sure most didn't even realize there were applications sitting on the counter the entire time!"

                                            >Pager perks up, a curious spark in her eye. "S-so I... I got the job?"

                                            >"Well, we still have an interview to do, dear! But.. I think you might be a shoo-in. I know a fellow bookworm when I see one."

                                            >Pager can't help but grin, haphazardly flashing braces she usually tries to hide.

                                            >'Numeric Pager: Librarian'

                                            >Its got quite the ring to it, does it not?

                                            ~ ~ ~


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            (old) NunNEET prompt (Earth Pony/Possibly Unicorn)


                                            >NunNEET

                                            >Orphaned at a very young age and subsequently whisked away to a local nunnery.

                                            >Barely spoke to her caregivers, and whenever she did, it was always terribly quiet and strained.

                                            >This never got better.

                                            >Sheltered beyond belief and too scared of the outside world to leave the convent when she finally came of age, she stayed and became a novice.

                                            >Everyone assumes she took a vow of silence once she was able to, but in actuality she's virtually mute around others due to her crippling anxiety which just seemed to get worse as she got older.

                                            >Luckily for her, their assumptions made it so all she really had to do was nod or shake her head when addressed.

                                            >Spends most of her days huddled away in the convent library under the pretense of 'religious study'.

                                            >Really is just reading the 'cool' parts of scripture and makes up quaint little scenarios in her mind.

                                            >Most of her daydreams involve her wanting to talk to her favorite characters about her problems since she has a *really* hard time talking to other ponies.

                                            >...Not like she has many problems to begin with.

                                            >Besides being kind of sad all the time, but maybe she's just sleepy. (she's not)

                                            >Whenever she's not doing... that, she's doodling in her notebook.

                                            >It's not unusual to find her hunched over on the ground, sketching the wildflowers that occasionally pop up in the courtyard.

                                            >It's one of the few times she can be heard making any sort of noise.

                                            >As long as you keep your distance, you won't be hard pressed to catch a whispery giggle or murmur coming from the gloomy mare trying to draw a bit of yarrow that was sprouting near the shade of the large willow in the middle of the yard.

                                            >She occasionally has the urge to gather and dry said wildflowers and other edible herbs to brew tea.

                                            >She might not be very good at making anything that doesn't taste bitter yet, but she *did* help an older nun get over her tummy ache by brewing her some peppermint and chamomile tea!

                                            >Considering it was the first times somepony openly praised her, it felt like her heart was going to burst from her chest.

                                            >Much to the surprise of the older mare, the little nun would squeak out a severely unpracticed 'tank you' before darting out of sight and searching for someplace quiet to settle down.

                                            >This is probably the first time somepony has heard her say something in years.

                                            >And nopony will ever believe the perplexed old nun.

                                            ~ ~ ~


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            Curiosity (Unicorn) (Rarity/Twilight combo 'repliquine' NEET) (Let my /boot/tism cross streams with my /NEET/tism with this one.) (Still one of my favorites.)


                                            >Curiosity, a custom repliquine unit that is a tasteful blend of Bookhorse and Marshmallow.

                                            >Has a somewhat promiscuous past, but was for the most part, a run of the mill ponycom.

                                            >Always fancied herself a romantic at heart, but was a little too late for love due to a sudden influx of silly clamcountering restrictions.

                                            >Of course this doesn't stop her from getting close to others, but it was clear that others didn't want much to do with her.

                                            >They were too scared to get close to such 'troublesome' tech.

                                            >For a time, she simply lazed about without a purpose or care in the world.

                                            >...Up until her previous 'patron' decided that she was too much effort.

                                            >She would bounce between high society household to the next, never staying in one place for long.

                                            >Maid for a day, conversation piece, smiling decoration...

                                            >She was many things during that time.

                                            >It stung to be passed about in such a careless manner, but the experience numbed her to a point where she stopped getting attached to anypony who could feasibly be her friend.

                                            >It's not like she ever had one in the first place.

                                            >A part of her missed how easy it was before.

                                            >To love and feel loved...

                                            >Now all she felt was apathy.

                                            >And she gave it back in full force.

                                            >...Until one fateful night, she made it into the uh- the claws of a peculiar buyer.

                                            >A scaly, cold-blooded beast which somehow, was more caring and attentive than any rich pony has ever been to her.

                                            >It was perplexing. She didn't know what to do.

                                            >She was so used to her unfortunate situation that being given so much freedom was nerve-wracking.

                                            >It took time, but with mutual trust and friendship... The two bonded.

                                            >Slowly but surely, Curio grew into her own.

                                            >Well versed in the history of fashion and the clothing industry, she was miffed by the automation of apparel and would much prefer to dust off some old sewing machine and do it herself.

                                            >...She is well aware of the irony in this.

                                            >She was more than happy to give a helping hoof to somepony in need, even to her detriment.

                                            >She enjoyed her time chatting and learning from her patron, Sir. Spike.

                                            >Or 'Just Spike' as he's so many times corrected her.

                                            >She has noticed his pining for those she was based on early on, but knows deep down he doesn't consider her some imitation of those mares...

                                            >He sees her as her own pony.

                                            >This doesn't stop her from teasing him, though.

                                            >Her restrictions don't say she can't make a beastly beasty beast blush, after all.

                                            >She's always quite content whenever she gets a rise out the big, dorky dragon.

                                            >She's also quite selective of when she pulls out a 'darling', making it hit extra hard when she finally decides to.

                                            >Together, they've made themselves a cozy little life in the big lonely city.

                                            >Curio, perpetuating the art of clothes-making and teaching those willing to listen, and Spike, happily regaling his time with the Elements and the other denizens of the 'old' Equestria.

                                            >Neither wealthy in coin, but certainly bursting with heart.

                                            ~ ~ ~


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            Unnamed Summoner Mare (Pegasus)


                                            >You rise from a plume of smoke with your arms folded, cackling all the while.

                                            "I, Amon'amous, defiles the mortal plane once more! Come forward, O' summoner mine and-"

                                            >You pause, realizing the severe lack of a warm, tied up body beneath you.

                                            "Wait, where's my virgin sacrifice?"

                                            >"Over here, big guy."

                                            >You squint through dissipating smoke towards a feminine voice, the outline of it's owner becoming clearly as it approaches.

                                            >A small, unkempt pegasus mare shuffles forward, her glasses too misty to see her eyes.

                                            >You scratch your head.

                                            "Wait... If you're over there, then what's under me right now?"

                                            >"A jar of my blood."

                                            "A jar of..."

                                            >You hesitantly look down, backing away from the summoning circle as you identify a mason jar filled to the brim with crimson ichor.

                                            "What the FUCK, mare!"

                                            >You narrow your eyes at her.

                                            "YOU'RE my summoner? Did- did you-"

                                            >She adjusts her glasses with a smug little smile.

                                            >"Did I just play the system? Hell yeah, broski."

                                            >You take a quick glance around what looks to be her dimly lit... bedroom?

                                            >There was soft, marely scent that hung in the room, but it was almost choked out by liberal use of lavender incense.

                                            >Locking eyes with your summoner once more, you clear your throat.

                                            "First of all, don't call me that. Second of all, how did you even-"

                                            >"Shush, hellboy. Oh, and do me a solid and don't move."

                                            >Your words die in your throat, all you can do now is glare at the petite pegasus lazily circling you.

                                            >"It was foal's play! All the ritual required was a nice, warm vessel filled with pure, innocent blood... Didn't say anything about it having to be inside an actual pony..."

                                            >She gives her blood jar a light nudge as she slowly passes it, still staring you down.

                                            >"Doesn't take a master arcanist to whip up a heating enchantment good enough to fool a hunky demon. The REAL hard part was learning how to extract the blood! Had to volunteer at a blood drive and everything... Bleh..."

                                            >She stops in front of you and raises one of her downy wings.

                                            >Nearing its soft pit was what looked like a bruise from blood drawing.

                                            >"The veins all up in there are *really* good for this kinda thing. They gotta pump your wings fulla blood after all."

                                            >She lets her wing fold back to her side. "So, anyways... You're probably wonderin' why I brought you here today."

                                            >The mare saunters over to what looks like an almost nest-like mound of blankets and pillows.

                                            >She twirls around and plants herself in the middle with a soft sigh.

                                            >With her glasses now de-fogged, you can't help but see the quiet, needy look in her eye.

                                            >She trails a hoof on her 'bed'.

                                            >"I... I need your help scratching an itch."

                                            >"I've had it for so long~" She coos.

                                            >The room is silent up until she realizes that you can't respond.

                                            >"Oh, uh... You can talk now."

                                            >Immediately, it feels like a cork has been pulled out of your throat.

                                            >She stares up at you expectantly.

                                            >"So, uhm..."

                                            "I'm not having sex with you."

                                            >She flinches.

                                            >"T-that's not what I-"

                                            "Yes it was."

                                            >"N-no it's NOT!"

                                            ~ ~ ~


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            Unnamed Chuuni Tomcolt 1&2 (Pegasus)


                                            "It's... It's literally just a carrot in a bun."

                                            >"I just don't think you get it, dude."

                                            "Get what?"

                                            >You watch the skinny pegasus raise up her chili cheese dog in the air.

                                            >"It's not just a carrot in a bun! It's a *marinated* carrot in a *toasted* and *buttered* bun made by the BEST chefs this town has to offer!"

                                            "Uh-huh."

                                            >"Oh and mine has other stuff on it too I guess." She punctuates this by taking a big bite of her carrot dog, somehow not getting chili on herself.

                                            "Hey, so... Do you ever eat anything else?"

                                            >She looks up, crumbs all over her mouth. "Sometimes I eat pizza, why?"

                                            "I mean, I'm not saying it's bad for you or anything... But why not broaden your horizons? Maybe make a salad? Or a dandelion sandwich..."

                                            >Her face scrunches at the suggestion. "Dandelions?! Gross!"

                                            "Oh c'mon! Other ponies eat that kind of thing all the time!"

                                            >"Well maybe I'm not like other ponies!"

                                            >With her weird sense of fashion... yeah, you can see that.

                                            "You know, you never told me why you wear the socks... Aren't you worried you're gonna get chili on them?"

                                            >The mare pauses her next bite of dog. "They're compression socks! And no. I'm very careful."

                                            "Compression socks?"

                                            >She nods. "Yeah! I uhm... I have bad circulation in my forelegs..."

                                            "Huh."

                                            >You guess that explains why they look so form fitting on her...

                                            "Does that have something to do with the reason I never see you flying?"

                                            >"W-what?"

                                            "It's just- If you've got funky blood flow, it makes sense that you'd avoid putting strain on your wings. Flapping them takes a lot out of a pony's hear-"

                                            >A sockie hoof is pushes up against your mouth suddenly, an uncharacteristically flustered look on the mare's face.

                                            >"ssshhh! shhh! Don't let them hear you say that, dummy!"

                                            "Don't let who-"

                                            >She gently turns your head to the right, bringing your attention to a pair of school age fillies eating ice cream a few tables away.

                                            >"Them!"

                                            "Them...?"

                                            >She lets go of your face and slumps back in her chair, a rosy blush still present on her cheeks.

                                            >"If you start blabbing, they might hear a-and tell all my friends and then everypony will think I'm super lame a-and-"

                                            >You interrupt her mental spiraling by poking her face with a fry, making her pause to look at it through her haze.

                                            "My lips are sealed, mare. Nopony's gonna know. Promise."

                                            >"B...but-"

                                            "Hush up and eat the friggin' fry!"

                                            >She sniffles. "They're better with cheese..."

                                            >You proceed to flick the fry like a cigarette butt at her snoot.

                                            >"Gah!"

                                            "Then dip it in some, dum-dum."

                                            >You watch as she picks up the fry from the table and glumly dips it in her cheese cup.

                                            >As she nibbles down the cheese fry like a goat, her mojo returns little by little.

                                            "Better?"

                                            >"Mmn... Yeah."

                                            "If it's any consolation... I doubt your little buddies would think you're lame."

                                            >"Really?"

                                            "Of course! You're the raddest mare I know."

                                            >You watch her fidget with her forehooves.

                                            >"Y-you're just sayin' that..."

                                            >You smile and lean over to ruffle her mane.

                                            "Nah... I meant it."


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            >"O-ow ow ow- Hey! W-watch where you're touching, dude!"

                                            "Relax, it's just your wings."

                                            >The mare in your grasp squirms feebly as you grab hold of one of her unkempt wings, now with a few splayed feathers pointing every which way due to a tumble she just had.

                                            >"I- I- I don't like being marehandled! What if somepony's watching?!"

                                            "Let 'em. And if you didn't want me to 'marehandle' you, you probably shouldn't have jumped off that table."

                                            >She winces as you run a hand through her feathers.

                                            >"Y-you're lucky your my friend or else I'd- Nnh!"

                                            >She clenches her teeth, fighting back a pained whimper.

                                            >"Ah- A little warning would be nice! F-friggin' jerk..."

                                            "Just a little more and we'll be done."

                                            >"Fine! J-just... Gently? Please..."

                                            >You *gently* brush her wayward feathers back into place as you trying to deduce how bad things really were.

                                            >Nothing feels broken, but she'll certainly need to keep her wing shut for a little while...

                                            >With a bit of rest and a couple poniprofen... She'll be right as rain.

                                            >"Are they... Okay?"

                                            "Yeah, just a little scuffed up. You're going to have one hell of a bruise, though."

                                            >"Ugh... And it's not even one of the fun ones!"

                                            "I don't think there's such a thing as a 'fun' bruise."

                                            >"I'm sure there's at least *one* fun one, right?"

                                            "Well, I... No clue, mare."

                                            >You feel her wriggle her little body against your chest. "Can you... let go now?"

                                            "Will you promise to *not* do anything stupid in the foreseeable future?"

                                            >"I... Uh..."

                                            "Just say yes."

                                            >"Y-yeah?"

                                            >You let go of her, letting her flop back down onto the ground.

                                            "I know you wanted to show off or whatever, but trying to do a backflip off a food court table isn't the way to go, mare."

                                            >Your radical mare-who-is-your-friend sits up and looks back at you with an all too confident smile.

                                            >"Aw c'mooon... Did you see how they had their phones out? They must of thought I was *super* cool."

                                            >Oh god.

                                            >You didn't even notice that.

                                            "Hey, uh... Do you by chance have any social media? Like... at all?"

                                            >You watch her get up and brush herself off a bit. "Not... really? My mom made me a Hoofbook account back in high school, but I kinda stopped using it a week later. It was pretty lame if I'm being honest."

                                            >She adjusts her ribbon and clears her throat, trying to pretend she wasn't being a big ol' crybaby mere moments before.

                                            >"Why'd you ask?"

                                            "I... I saw some cool yoyo tricks online you might want to see! ...But I'll show you them later."

                                            >Her ears perk up. "Yoyo tricks? Oooh... That reminds me! My mom said my new yoyo strings came in the mail!"

                                            >Before you can open your mouth, she trots past you and whips around to face you again.

                                            >"Do you wanna come help me restring my yoyos? We could, like, have pizza later? Maybe play some Neighstation...?"

                                            >You give her a smile. "Sounds like a blast. Just... Try not to move your wings too much. You'll make yourself sore."

                                            >She pauses to glance at her wings and noticing how much they're ruffling.

                                            >"I... I guess I'm a little excited."

                                            "I can tell."

                                            ~ ~ ~