Pink In The Club - TFTG

 

Maybe you weren’t watching your drink as closely as you should have been, but you don’t think you’ve even heard of a drug that could give a sensory experience quite like this. Thankfully you’d slipped away after beginning to feel something was wrong, into this dim secluded space of muffled bass and anti-needle light. Hoping the friends that invited you wouldn't be too worried.

 

For a second you considered that maybe you were having a particular seizure or something, until a few seconds of fumbling with the buttons of your camera brought forth a beam of pure light that cut through the tint of the room. The phone clattered to the sink and you held your affected appendage above it, creating a surreal reverse-shadow of truth, revealing the wave bubblegum pink that had consumed everything above your wrist.

 

With just a few moments of starting you realized the pink was still moving, causing you to instinctually pull your arm away from the light. Letting the pink fade away under the cover of the blacklight, with only the prickling of hairs on your arm marking the change marching along your skin. Realizing that you’d been touching yourself quite a bit with the bubblegum appendage you reached for your phone with your other hand, wincing at the new flashes of pink caught in the light and despairing as your fingers struggled to close around your phone, your heartbeat thumping in your ears competing with the distant sound of the bass. A careful attempt at picking up the phone would be fruitless, the glass brick slipping out of your grasp once more. It landed against the checkered tiles of the floor with a crack, only briefly highlighting a flash of pink across your face as it fell. Before the light flickered out entirely and returned the room entirely to its twisted hue.

 

After stumbling back you’d look down at what remained of your hands and realize that you needed to get help of some kind. Normally you'd be careful about not touching the handle for the bathroom door, but you would basically barrel through, not caring how much contact your body made with the surface as you forced your way back into the lights and noise of the club. The rhythmic thumping of the music once more overtaking the noise in your ears, the smell of people and party once more filling your lungs, bright spotlights tickling the edges of your vision. The sensation was enough to send a shiver down your spine, all the skin on your body prickling as you felt your ears physically perk up to an alien degree. Your teeth grit as the feeling of your fingers twitching returned you to reality.

___

You stumbled across the edge of the club, lamenting how much busier it suddenly felt, colors blurring and brightening as you went. Thankfully the building wasn't too large and the journey to the bar was relatively swift.

 

“Pink, huh?” Ryan, your friend since grade school, chuckled as you approached your seat. His jacket was unzipped, casually exposing the black wife-beater beneath.

 

The exclamation squeaked its way out of your mouth, almost painfully high pitch.

 

“He's asking what kind of fun you must have gotten up to in the bathroom.”

Andrew would pipe up from your other side, tapping a finished mug against the table with a harsh thud. He’d been hitting the hard cider bar since you had gotten there, the bar miraculously having his favorite brand. He was a bit more straightlaced, his nicely buttoned shirt matching nicely with the quality boots he always wore. Man was just a little bit of a Texasaboo, which is understandable considering he was born in Texas.

 

 

“Bro gets laid in the club bathroom and suddenly wants to go ditch us.” Ryan would tease, bumping against your shoulder.

 

 

“Course it's not, Pink, we're just teasing you. First time takes alot out of anyone.” Andy would bounce off of Ryan, chuckling.

 

 

“You should really wash that off your face though, it makes you look ridiculous.”

Andrew’s voice would soften as his eyes crossed to really start examining you through the cider goggles.

 

Realizing you probably shouldn’t let him get too close a look, you'd snatch your hoodie from your chair with a violent jerk, sliding it over your head clumsily as you stumbled away from the bar. A few disgruntled exclamations were muffled as they made their way to you through the pulsing, semi-transparent fabric of the hoodie, as you stumbled around in the rapidly growing warmth and claustrophobia of the cotton prison.

 

Eventually, even without the proper use of your hands your head would pop out of the hoodie. Poofy pink hair exploded out around you and drooped into your vision as you emerged. You shook your head, the long pink locks of hair bouncing around your head, joined by the flop of your larger ears.

 

“Pinkie Pie?”

_____

“Pinkie Pie?” A pretty casually dressed guy, about your height with well taken-care of jet-black hair flashed you a smile as he asked again. You were uncomfortably close, it was a miracle you hadn’t bumped into him, really.

 

 

“Yeah, that's the Pink one with the Pink Mane and blue eyes, right?”

 

 

“Didn't realize there was another pony convention passing by.”

 

 

“Well, your cosplay is very nice, miss.”

 

The words would melt in your mouth as his fingers made contact with the large ears protruding from your puffy mess of hair, pinching the soft, velvety material between his fingers.

 

“Damn, that's high quality. Although with eyes like yours it's no wonder you went with the pink one.”

 

 

“Yeah, also pretty dedicated to dye and curl your hair like that.” He'd move to pet against the top of your head, making you suddenly realize just how close he was to you… of course you had inadvertently closed the distance first. A second glance would reveal the man himself had curled his hair just a bit to give it a wavy look.

 

 

“What, Pinkie Pie can’t stop for a quick dance? I'm heartbroken.” The man would laugh even as he frowned just a bit,

 

“W-Well, Maybe I can stay for a bit.” You relented after feeling a pang of distant guilt, looking around at the vibrant and happy dance floor.

 

The man reached out a hand, you matched it with a hoof concealed in the sleeve, which the man laughed off with a squeeze and a laugh, “Cosplayers are always about as quirky as they are cute, huh?

___

The man took the lead and you followed clumsily along. As you danced together you began to realize that you had to crane up your head to look at him, almost like you lost a few inches while you weren’t paying attention.

 

After a few minutes of awkward dancing, your slowly-more-coordinated movements became suddenly erratic as your feet cramped up, forcing you up onto your toes as the bones in your leg felt like lava, a hot, viscous liquid shifting beneath your skin. Your leg thickened and shortened as your ankle stretched back and up to keep your height relatively static.

 

The toes had stitched themselves together in your shoe, nails swelling Into a single mass as your middle toe grew to take the burden. With a few more shaky steps you'd lose your shoes. And a few more shakes of the leg would free you of the ill fitting socks, letting your freshly formed hooves make floor contact with a satisfying clack.

 

Having your hooves in direct contact with the floor left you feeling more stable, but more than that you felt a weird connection to the ground. It gave you a burst of confidence to take control of the dance.

 

You began to move more erratically, dragging the man along with you. The music began to truly move through you, causing a smile to break out across your face. It was like a burning was building deep inside of you, and outside of you, almost everywhere actually! It was kind of itchy, but in a really good way that drove you to keep moving and push it out. You moved, spun around and danced, before finally pulling the man close. You gave him a smile as you looked at the panic in his eyes, leaning into an impressively deep dip.

 

 

At the crescendo of the dip, a loud ripping noise came from your pants. In the frenzy of the dancing you hadn't noticed the widening of your hips, or the growth of a twitch of a tail that had been the final straw that shorn your pants

 

With a thud the man made contact with the floor, your hooves clopping loudly as you made a break once more for the bathroom. You rudely fumbled past a few women in the familiar-sickeningly blue light of the bathroom, dark gray and black tiles the only difference from the one you started in. Without much care for the surrounding bathroom you barreled into a stall.

 

Fumbling with your front-hooves against the buttons of your pants, you eventually realized that unbuttoning them wasn't going to happen. Luckily for you the redistribution of your body left you quite a bit more bottom heavy, so you simply plopped your butt on the floor and stretched your front hooves forward, causing the stretched pants to let out a satisfying pop, allowing them to fall to the floor with relief, giving you the opportunity to inspect the damage.

____

The hoodie hung limply on your chest, the feeling of your shirt rubbing against the fur of your thick pony barrel uncomfortable. To resolve this you simply slipped your arms- forelegs- out of the sleeves and pushed the simple shirt down, letting it slide out and fall to the floor. You didn’t even question it, instead returning your forelegs to the sleeves and gently sitting your front hooves on the tile, before pushing yourself up onto four unsteady legs. You looked up past your hoodie, feeling your neck stretch as you pushed your head back further than you used to be able too. A flash of color was visible on your side, in the space made by how your underwear was pushed down slightly by the dock of your poofy tail. Your hooves pulled it down the rest of the way, clearly exposing the bright trio of balloons that adorned your… well… flanks. Your thighs had thickened and your hips bent in such a way that made it obvious that you were made for quadrupedal motion. Genuinely, from the neck down you felt almost entirely pony.

 

You pushed open the stall door, illuminating you in the bright white light of the empty bathroom, glimmering off the pink and white floor tiles. You trotted up to the mirror on all four hooves(finding the way of walking weirdly easy despite never having done it before), examining yourself truly for what felt like the first time.

 

Your entire body was covered with a layer of pink, rubbing a hoof against the side of your cheek let you feel the movement of the fine coat of hairs that covered your body. You shifted your face, watching the half pony-half human head in the mirror, ears twitching at the edges of your poofy pink mane. As you watched your motions in the mirror you felt your nose ache, your head suddenly feeling claustrophobic as your teeth began to grow, pushing out against each other, you put both of your muzzles against your nose as you felt your head shift. The teeth pushed your face outwards, your jaw stretching out and pushing out your hooves as your head felt like it swelled in every direction. Air was sucked in through your broadening muzzle, flooding your lungs as you closed your eyes.

 

With a sneeze suddenly all the pressure in your head was gone. Slowly opening your eyes you'd blink for a few moments to adjust. Everything felt bigger, brighter, a little… further apart.

 

You blinked again, looking at yourself in the mirror once more.

 

“Huh…” You raised a hoof to touch the wide nose on the end of your snoot, ”Miss Pinkie Pie, I presume?”

___

The doors of the bathroom swung open with the typical dull scraping noise, followed by a sharp metal-on-tile clacking, with an accompanying dull thudding clack of something hard but organic on tile.

 

“Gosh Darned, where did that pony get off too.” A distantly familiar drawl would enter the room along with the sound.

 

“Knowing Pinkie probably not far… or maybe very far, she's… Pinkie like that.” The drawl was accompanied by a scratchy voice in reply, coming from a light blue, rainbow-maned horse that rounded the bend. An orange horse with a hat covering her blonde hair would follow.

 

“Oh- there you are, we were just done getting worried.”

 

“I wasn't worried, except for your pants. Those things were screaming for mercy all night.” The rainbow pony would giggle as she remembered how tightly the pants were hugging her friend’s flanks.

 

“Dash, be nice. Pinkie had a bit of a- clothing… uh… destruction… as Rarity probably wouldn't put it.” Applejack would chide her friend for laughing at what she thought was Pinkie

 

“We don't normally wear clothes.” Dash would reply bluntly.

 

“That doesn't change a thing.” The orange horse would shake her head.

 

Dash would trot over to you, placing a hoof over your shoulder, “At least the Hoodie looks nice, right Applejack?”

 

“Hah, of course. Pinkie can pull off just about anything though, I reckon.”

 

“Awwww, thanks gals.” The words flowed naturally out of your mouth as you pulled the two ponies into a hug, not caring that they were just far enough away that it was physically impossible. The proceeding conversation was probably the longest the two had gone without hearing Pinkie talk, so they both looked relieved when you spoke.

 

“It is as it is as it is.” Dash… Rainbow Dash as she returned the hug with a wide smile.

 

“You just had us a bit worried up and disappearing.” AJ would return the hug of both you and Dash, neither of you particularly minding the cold of her horseshoes due to the protective layers of fuzz.

 

The door would open again, a pony huffing audibly huffing as they clopped in to join you in the bathroom, a white and purple unicorn would stroll into the bathroom with her nose in the air before looking down at pinkie. “Pinkamina Pie, it was very impolite to drop me! I could have ruined my coiffure! Although... I guess I can’t help but respect a pony so upset at such a fashion faux pa.”

 

Rarity’s face would soften from a frown into a soft smile before she squealed, being pulled into the hug by an off-screen pink appendage, you somehow gaining another arm for a moment to quickly pull her in.

 

“Glad you ponies are all here!” You’d giggle, pulling them all close.

 

“Where else would we be darling?” Rarity would ask, weirdly casual about what is an objectively pretty weird situation.

 

“It’s a long story.” You'd reply.

 

"How long?" AJ would ask, confused by what that could possibly mean.

 

“Six posts.” Pinkie Pie, you, would giggle-snort, winking at the readers as the story came to a close.

 

 

//Pone Paste Archive Link: https://ponepaste.org/9720

//Google Drive Backup Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1H2f5IC6JN3L3oIK7Y9cZa2Oz6PBU4q7JcjpLviIQjWQ

//Post Archive: https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/40756169/#40790590

//Random Ponk Request