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> The Portal’s a crucible for hearts too fierce to fade. Griffons, yaks, buffalo, merponies, kirin—they’ve all drifted through, chasing love or a corner to dodge prying eyes. The Portal, on Ponyville’s edge, was one of the first to fling its doors wide for humans when others sneered. Now it’s a legend, where a mare might carry a human’s foal—always a filly, pure pony. Human colts are plenty; pony colts, rarer than a phoenix’s song. These rumors pack my place to the brim every night.
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> I’m Crimson Brew, earth pony, dark coat, gold mane, mixing drinks with a barbed quip and keener gaze. I’m blending a cider now, bottles dancing thanks to this human-made collar’s telekinesis. Tonight, the bar’s alive, but Pinkie Pie’s a shadow—her mane flat, her hooves wrapped around a Hard Cider, words spilling like she’s chasing something she can’t catch. Pinkie, lost in her heart? Let’s hear it.
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> I’m Pinkie Pie, and… *hic*… wow, this cider’s hitting hard, but not as hard as my heart’s aching. That kiss last night, the one that started it all with Anon? It wasn’t enough. I wanted—no, *needed*—him to kiss me back, to claim me as his pony, to let me play his game and spark his smile. It felt so right, like my heart was galloping free, but it wasn’t complete. There’s this emptiness, and I’m drowning in it. Lemme tell you what happened next, ‘cause, jee, it’s a doozy.
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> Morning after that wild night, I baked a basket of muffins—fluffy, sweet, not a drop of honey this time, promise! I trotted to Anon’s place, tail bouncing, ready to say sorry for the bar chaos. But no way was I backing down. I wanted to be his pony, to chase his grumpiness ‘til he laughed. Knocked on his door, and… oof, that breakfast was tense, like chewing through a stormcloud. Anon barely looked at me, his eyes dodging mine, stirring his coffee like it held all the answers. I tried cracking jokes, tossing giggles, but his silences were brutal. That’s when I got it—why human stallions are so exotic, strong like the fiercest mares in our great herd, carrying hearts heavy with secrets.
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> He finally spoke, voice low. “Pinkie, I don’t have time for… this. No relationships. I work ‘til my mom’s health is safe.” I blinked, hooves fidgeting. “That’s it? Just work, no breaks, no smiles?” He sighed, like I’d never get it. Said he didn’t come to Equestria for fame. His friends told him families healed in weeks from Earth’s worst diseases, eating our crops, our honey. That’s why he risked it all, one of the first humans to cross the portal. Back then, it was no easy hop—those guys walked a desert path, eerie and endless, no hunger, no fatigue, but months of wandering ‘til they reached Equestria. Celestia’s old students, unicorn brainiacs, fixed it later with two-way teleport filters, setting up embassies for humans and ponies. But some humans, thousands of stallions, still take that desert road, chasing a new life here.
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> I got all sidetracked—sorry! Hearing him talk, his voice all heavy, I had to know. “Anon, you really felt nothing? That kiss… nothing?” He froze, and I didn’t wait. I leapt, my heart pressing close, feeling his warmth through his goofy pajamas. I kissed him again, wild, passionate, like I could pour all my spark into him. I felt his fear, his worry for his mom, that loneliness he carries like a storm. I want to melt it away, to be his pony, trotting happy at his call, making him smile like only I can. I need to be the reason he laughs, the filly who plays his game and wins his heart.
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> But then… *hic*… it all fell apart. That ambassador, that rotten human stirring trouble from the start, pushed a new law. Humans from 19 to 31—poof, forced back to Earth. They tricked Celestia, slipped it into an agreement she thought protected our mixed families. Everypony saw it was planned. Anon, my grump, got swept up with the others, gone before I could chase him. And it gets worse—a unicorn noble, some high-horned creep, tried to pass a law making human stallions nothing but breeding stock, stripping their rights. Celestia was horrified, made an example of those noble houses, but it was too late for Anon. My heart’s empty ‘cause he’s gone, and I don’t know if my game will ever bring him back.
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> *hic* Crimson, another Hard Cider, pretty please! I… I need a sec. Later, I’ll tell you how I’m gonna fix this, ‘cause no way’s Pinkie Pie giving up on her grump.
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> Crimson Brew here. Pinkie’s heart’s a wildfire, burning through cider and tears. That ambassador’s law’s got everypony’s mane in a twist, and Pinkie’s game’s on the line. You, my fine customers, are itching to know if she’ll chase her grump across worlds. Come back tomorrow—we’ll see if Pinkie’s bounce can beat the portal’s pull. For now, drink up and feel the ache!
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> To be continued.
by AT_123
by AT_123
by AT_123
by AT_123
by AT_123