Many years later, Twilight Sparkle would look back and find it odd how being abruptly awakened at three in the morning would be the least objectionable part of that day.

Groaning and turning around, as if trying to get ahold of the hems of a dress worn by her fleeting sleep, Twilight ignored the hammering noise on her window until she remembered her room was on the second floor.

With a huff, she kicked away the covers and jumped off the bed, and all traces of sleep were chased away by the face pressed against the window glass.

“Pinkie?” Twilight muttered as her friend gave her an apologetic smile. She didn’t know what expression she should use, and the rushing memories of the previous day were of little help, so she settled with shock. Still, she walked towards the window and threw it open with her magic. “What are you doing here? I told you we’d talk in the morning.”

Unlike herself, Pinkie went through a few distinct expressions as she registered the meaning of her words. Once she apparently did, though, she laughed.

“Oh, no no no. That’s not why I’m here. Well, I mean. No, no. That’s not why I’m here Twi,” Pinkie said, seemingly doing her best to sound reassuring, but Twilight could feel the underlying awkwardness in her voice. “But I do need your help.”

Despite of Twilight’s recent reservations, she had to admit Pinkie would never knock on her window in the middle of the night if she didn’t really need help. And Celestia knew she wasn’t one to turn her back on a friend in need, but this was probably not the best course of action to take considering yesterday’s… events.

Then again, Twilight was already walking out of Golden Oaks before she could finish that train of thought, so perhaps it was a moot point to keep thinking about it.

Be that as it may, she couldn’t quite shake the discomfort she felt as she walked with Pinkie down the empty streets of Ponyville. Therefore, she’d focus in whatever it was that bothered her friend.

“So… tell me, Pinkie. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

Pinkie immediately perked up, and smiling her usual smile, she said, “I wanted to bake something for you!”

Twilight slowed down, unsure of how to respond to that. “I thought you said that’s not why you came to see me.”

“I know, and it’s not about that. It’s just that, well…” Pinkie hurried up until she reached an intersection. “I think I messed up the recipe somehow.”

The baker turned around and looked at some point down the street with a scrunched up muzzle. Eyeing her warily, Twilight walked up to her and followed her friend’s gaze.

Sugarcube Corner was surrounded by red clouds with silent lightning arcing around them. The roof was bending slightly upon itself, creaking as it was slowly sucked into the vortex hovering above the building, warping the air around it.

Now Twilight was sure there were no remnants of sleep clouding her mind.

---

Not a second had passed since the aura of the last warding spell had dissipated when Twilight casted another one.

“I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Pinkie said as she scrapped the wooden floor of the living room.

She didn’t reply, she was too busy mumbling the incantation of the next spell.

“The recipe book didn’t say any of this would happen,” Pinkie said, pausing for just a second before her expression turned pensive and she tapped her chin in thought. “Well, there was one that did, but that one required two challices of blood, and I was not going to do that one. I mean, I may be a bit crazy from time to time, but that’s just unsanitary.”

That made Twilight stop for a second. She was about to voice any of the myriad of questions coursing through her mind, but then a guttural groan coursed through the air, so she once again focused on the task at hoof.

“Pinkie, I have to finish these spells, but as soon as I do, I’m going to need you to tell me how this all went down.”

Pinkie only nodded furiously.

After sealing the entire lower level with warding spells, protective runes, and hanging a portrait of Celestia on the door for good measure, Twilight finally allowed herself a moment of rest. She slumped down on the floor as a tired groan escaped her lips. Closing her eyes, she almost wanted to forget about the unspeakable horrors waiting within the edges of reality and go back to sleep. Before she could further entertain that thought, however, she heard the soft clopping of hooves against the floor until Pinkie was standing next to her.

“I already said I was sorry, but I just wanted to say it again so you know I mean it,” she said.

“You know, the weird stuff usually doesn’t happen until Saturday,” Twilight deadpanned. While it hadn’t been her intention, that made Pinkie laugh, and she couldn’t help but feel a little better at that. As better as one could feel while the building you were in was slowly being sucked into a dark dimension, anyway.

“I know… And I’m sorry, Twi,” Pinkie said once her giggles had died down, and to her credit, she genuinely sounded apologetic.

Twilight stood up, and gave her friend a reassuring smile. “Start at the beginning and tell me what happened, Pinkie.”

“Okay!” Pinkie said, sitting down next to Twilight. “After… Well, after yesterday, I wanted to bake you a cake, but I knew it couldn’t be any ordinary cake, it couldn’t be a super special cake either, it had to be a super-duper, mega, extra special, one of a kind cake, but my recipe books only go up to super extra special, so I knew I had to find a different recipe. I thought about checking a book at the Library, but that would have ruined the surprise and, uh, you said you needed some time alone.”

Though memories of their shared evening last night rushed to the forefront of Twilight’s mind, she pushed them aside for the moment as she urged Pinkie to keep going.

“Anyway… I wondered where else I could get some great baking books, so I remembered how much you like to talk about the library back in Canterlot, and how your eyes get all sparkly when you think about all the things you’ve read there, and you get this goofy smile when you do—”unbeknownst to Pinkie, Twilight had started blushing“—and I also think I saw a cooking section in one of the shelves back when we snuck into the castle while wearing those nice latex suits.”

“Wait, you snuck into Canterlot Castle to get a recipe book!?” Twilight exclaimed, her momentary embarrassment already forgotten.

“What? No, of course not, Twilight.”

“Oh, thank Celestia. Then what—”

“I snuck into the old Castle in the Everfree, they had a lot of books as well, let me tell you,” Pinkie said, gently bumping the shell-shocked Twilight. When she didn’t react, Pinkie kept poking her.

“Anyway,” Pinkie continued, oblivious to the many micro contractions Twilight’s facial muscles were undergoing. “There were a lot of fun recipes there, so I made a few of them to see if I could get them right, and before I knew it, the batter was folding itself in ways I’ve never seen before. Oh, and I could hear some singing coming from the oven, but it was a bit hard to keep the melody when it’s all just throaty sounds.”

Twilight’s facial spasms had reached her lips, and now her mouth was contorting into a series of odd shapes before settling on a wide grin which lasted for all of two seconds before she started laughing.

Pinkie joined her soon enough, and both of them rolled on the floor, laughing at the the ridiculousness of it all.

A minute later, the laughter had died down, and Twilight knew they had to get to work if they wanted to fix everything.

“Get me the book, Pinkie. I’ll try to come up with a counterspell,” she said as she stood up.

“Roger!” Pinkie replied and bolted for the kitchen.

Twilight felt the room get a little colder after she left. While it would’ve been easy to blame the malevolent energies confined in spaces her eyes could not see for the drop in temperature, she knew who was the real reason.

With a weary sigh, Twilight scanned the warding spells to make sure they were working while memories of the previous day wafted through her mind like the aroma of a bake just out of the oven, and just like a cake, it was too much to go through at once.

The picnic, the furtive glances Pinkie shared with the rest of the girls, how they left them alone all of a sudden, how Pinkie became so serious… Twilight felt her cheeks burning as she thought back to Pinkie’s words, at how the orange light of the sunset made her blue eyes shine, how her usual exuberance was toned down when she said—

“Here it is!” Pinkie exclaimed as she walked into the room, holding a thick tome on top of her head.

“Gah!”

“Oh, are the snake~y thingies coming through the windows again? Because I got them out by sprinkling them with salt water.”

“No, you just surprised me, is all… Is that the book?” Twilight asked as she hurriedly brushed those thoughts away once more.

“Yuppers! Here you go, Twi.” Pinkie held the book out with her hooves, and just before Twilight could whisk it away in her magic, she realised she had extended her own hooves towards it.

The gentle brush of her hoof against Pinkie’s sent conflicting emotions running through her mind, which were becoming much harder to ignore the longer he spent near the pink, pony-shaped mass of energy. For her part, Pinkie just smiled, but Twilight could see her look away as soon as she let go of the book.

“Thanks, Pinkie. Tell me which is the recipe you used and I’ll… Wait, hold on. Is this leather!?”

Pinkie scooted over to Twilight’s side and leaned forward until her nose was almost touching the book.

“Huh, I guess that explains why it was so resistant to water.”

“I can’t… No, you know what? Doesn’t matter, let’s just get to work, which is the recipe you used?”

Just as Pïnkie was about to speak, the windows themselves starting twisting counter-clockwise upon themselves.

“Shoot, I gotta get more salt,” Pinkie said with traces of annoyance in her voice. She spared Twilight a brief glance before running out of the room again and yelled, “Check on page a hundred eighty!”

Twilight stood indecisive for a second before opening the book. It’d be for the best to let Pinkie deal with the small stuff while she looked for a way to counter the effects of the recipe.

Using her magic, Twilight opened the book and rushed to the page Pinkie mentioned. Part of her wanted to ask Pinkie when she learned ancient Suneighrian Language, but there’d be time for that later. Right now she focused on translating the recipe.

“Kanu… Arammu… Sibutum? That means… Ah!”

Though her knowledge of ancient languages was a bit rusty, these words were common enough for her to recognise, and as their meaning came back to her, Twilight couldn’t help but throw a furtive glance at Pinkie Pie, throwing hooffuls of salt at the windows.

“Testimony of true love,” Twilight whispered.

“You said something, Twi?” Pinkie said as she swept away the salt.

“N-no, don’t mind me. I’m just, uh, I’m just going to keep reading.” After that, Twilight buried herself in the mechanical task of translating the recipe into a modern language while also trying not to dwell on the odd feelings stirring in her chest.

One of this tasks was considerably easier than the other one.

Twilight wondered if Pinkie was going through the same as her and was simply better at hiding her feelings. An odd thought to entertain when talking about somepony as exuberant as Pinkie Pie, for sure; however, she had surprised her before.

She never would’ve expected her to become one of the Elements of Harmony and save Equestria from Nightmare Moon. She wouldn’t have imagined somepony so seemingly silly should succeed at sensing shifts in her surroundings. She wouldn’t have imagined such a party lover to be responsible when she needed to be. But Pinkie was all these things and more, she was such a kind, selfless mare, willing to give up just about anything to make a friend happy. Pinkie Pie was always full of pleasant surprises, and discovering something new about her friend was always a joy.

Yes. Perhaps she should crack her skull open and see how that brain of hers worked. Yes. Machines couldn’t give her accurate readings, but nothing beat actual observation. Yes. Yes.

Twilight balked at that thought. Where did such a horrible thought had come from? It was then that she remembered Sugarcube Corner was under siege by abhorrent forces from beyond reality. That was odd, her warding spells should have protected their minds from their influence.

“Pinkie, could you check the basement and see if there’s anything odd in there?” Twilight asked as she started casting additional protective spells.

Giving a mock salute, Pinkie pronked across the room until she reached the door leading to the basement, opening it wide only to be greeted by a wall of writhing flesh with a dozen eye-like orbs swimming through its folds. It’s groans of agony were cut short by Pinkie slamming the door on it and pronking back to where Twilight was standing.

“Yup,” she said.

“I was afraid that’d be the case.” Twilight bit her lip in thought. “For the time being, try to barricade the door, I’ll try to see what’s caused all of this.”

“Alright, Twilight,” Pinkie said. “By the way, don’t bother with the ingredients, there was nothing out of the ordinary with that, but the preparation was the real doozy!”

Once more, Twilight poured herself over the book, checking over its contents. Pinkie was right, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the ingredients used—save for an alarming amount of butter—which meant the key had to lay in the preparation, and as Twilight turned the page and saw the pentagonal diagram one had to follow while stirring the batter, she suspected she was on the right track.

The translation here was tricky. Ancient Languages with no practical application in real life were a subject as fascinating as any other, but the Suneighrian texts which survived to this day were very few, which in turn limited Twilight’s ability to get a proper sense of the specifics of the recipe. Nevertheless, she pushed forward, hoping her two semesters of dead languages and literary analysis would aid her.

Lulled by the hammering of Pinkie nailing the basement door shut, Twilight read through the instructions detailed on the page. She was surprised that this wasn’t a simple recipe—demon summoning aside—due to the way it was written. A normal recipe states in simple terms the process of making a dish, but here, every step was written in an almost poetic way and with extreme precision.

*And thus, the left [heart] must keep the cooking [epru], the flour, and the salt. [Stirring] with the power your love [stirs] in your heart.
*Meanwhile, the right [heart] must ready the cream, the butter, and the vanilla. Mixing them with the left’s [brew], much like you wish Inanna would bring you together as one.

A bit dramatic, but it made its point.So far, the recipe lived up to its name. Each step could not be done mechanically, you had to think about the pony for whom you were making the cake. Twilight was well acquainted with the intricacies of potion making. That the intentions of the one making the potion influenced the outcome of the potion itself was not uncommon, and this seemed to be the case.

And to think Pinkie saw this and thought she could do it, that spoke volumes of how she truly felt…

Twilight looked up at Pinkie, who was currently nailing the kitchen’s revolving doors to the basement door—which had started thumping—and the memories from the previous day rushed unabashedly.


Twilight sat on the checkered pattern blanket, waving their friends goodbye. Though the sun was yet to set, they had all bid Pinkie and her farewell. All at the same time. All citing increasingly odd reasons. She could buy AJ having stuff to do at the farm, and Rarity having to deal with a sudden order for dresses, but she knew most of Fluttershy’s animals were hibernating, and Rainbow Dash hadn’t even tried to come up with an excuse, she just wished them good luck and flew off.

“So,” Twilight said. “What’s going on, Pinkie?”

Pinkie was sipping a glass of punch through a comically large straw, probably in an effort to buy herself more time before having to reply.

“Oh, nothing really, I just, hehe…” Pinkie smiled a nervous smile as she looked everywhere around the park except straight at her, though once their eyes met, the smile became more subdued, and the happiness reflected in her eyes. “We haven’t had the chance to talk, just the two of us.”

“Well, I’m all ears, Pinkie.” Twilight smiled back at her, and in doing so, Pinkie’s smile shone brighter than it had all evening.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Pinkie said, her eyes dancing back and forth, as though she wanted to look elsewhere, but she was making the effort to keep eye contact. After a second of silence, she cleared her throat and looked straight into Twilight’s eyes. “I wanted to talk with you about something.”

Her sudden seriousness intrigued Twilight, whatever Pinkie wanted to talk about had to be important, so she gave her friend an encouraging nod, “Go on, Pinkie.”

However, Pinkie didn’t speak. She stayed silent for a moment, staring at Twilight with that little smile still on her face. “You’re always so encouraging, Twi. That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s nothing, Pinkie. Really. I just try to be a good friend.”

“No, it is something. Trying to be a good friend is something huge, and really, Twi, you’re a great friend.” The words seem to die in Pinkie’s throat after she said this. Her lips were still parted, and stayed that way for a few seconds before she bit her lip and looked away.

Seeing the usual spry and hyperactive pony act so shyly was disconcerting. Twilight reached for her friend’s hoof, giving a light squeeze in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

“It’s not been that long since you came to Ponyville, but you’re already one of my best friends. We’ve been through so much together, and well, maybe it’s silly of me to assume, but I am very silly sometimes, so I guess it’s okay. I don’t know. I mean, I do know, it’s just that it’s kinda frightening, but not in the scream and cry kinda frightening, though it does feel like that sometimes, but it’s more of the very very nervous kinda frightening because I feel like I’m about to go bungee jumping but I don’t know if I have the stretchy rope attached, and I can’t know if I do until I check, but—” Pinkie bit her own lips to stop the barrage of words from pouring out. Twilight was about to say something, but before she could even open her lips, Pinkie started talking once more. “Sorry, what I meant to say was… Twilight…”


“Do you need me to do something else?” Pinkie asked, once again bringing Twilight’s mind into the present.

“I… Ah, sorry Pinkie, I was, uh… I was lost in thought for a second,” she replied.

“It’s okay, you’re good at thinking, and right now, thinking is what we need!” Pinkie exclaimed as she gave a little hop.

Twilight looked down so Pinkie wouldn’t see the smile her little compliment elicited. Although the meaning behind the recipe was enough to reignite the maelstrom of conflicting emotions which had taken residence deep in her chest since the previous evening. She once again had to marvel at Pinkie’s self-control; after… After the way their meeting had ended yesterday, Twilight had been worried about how the baker would handle herself, but to know that not only did she not feel down, but had enough resolve in her to try to do something like this for her… It was genuinely heartwarming.

Still, there was that reticence in the back of her mind, the same which had not let her give a proper answer. The same doubts which had been consuming her until she fell asleep.

Wait… Consume.

“Pinkie, did you finish baking the cake?” Twilight asked with rising hopes.

“Oh, yeah. I did. I was about to take it out of the oven, but that’s when the air started to vibrate.” Before Twilight could say anything, she added, “Don’t worry, it stopped once the insect-like legs started coming from the ceiling.”

“Was that supposed to be an improvement? Ugh… Nevermind. If you finished the cake, maybe we can bring this all to an end if I eat it. That should end the ritual.”

She was about to nod, but stopped mid-action. Though it had been subtle, Twilight noticed the way Pinkie’s breath hitched and her lips trembled.

“Are… Are you sure? I mean, you read the book, you know what—” She was interrupted by a purple hoof pressing her lips.

“Yes, Pinkie. I know what the cake means, and I know what you meant when you baked it,” Twilight said, giving a tentative smile.The light blush spreading over Pinkie’s cheeks turned her coat a bright red, and Twilight was sure she looked much the same. “There’s a lot we have to talk about, but right now we have to make sure Ponyville doesn’t get sucked into the void.”

Pinkie giggled and nodded again while the blush spread even further across her face.

“Let’s go eat that cake,” Twilight said, and they turned around towards the kitchen.

The truth was, she had spoken with far more confidence than she actually had. Realising the extent of Pinkie’s feelings for her had been extremely flattering, to say the least… but it ha also brought forth a heap of insecurities from deep within herself. Even if the results had not quite been what she had expected, Pinkie chose that recipe because she felt it conveyed her emotions, and the recipe went in great detail to examine the feelings of the pony making it.

Twilight wondered if, had the roles been reversed, would she have been able to do the same for Pinkie?

Twilight knew she had her shortcomings, just like any other pony, she was inattentive to most things, had a one-track mind, was always one crisis away from having a nervous breakdown… honestly, she didn’t think herself a good partner, but… Pinkie had seen all of this, and even experienced some of her worst moments right alongside her, and still chose to focus on her good side, on her qualities as a friend.

She still fell in love with her.

What kind of friend she’d be if she didn’t at least give her a chance?

“Huh, that’s new,” Pinkie said, and if her stopping abruptly just a few steps into the kitchen wasn’t enough to bring Twilight out of her not-quite-day-dreaming, the unnatural green glow coming from the oven sure did.

The small portion of Twilight’s mind which wasn’t frozen in shock, wondered how could a glow be unnatural. Light worked the same way all across the observable universe. Then again, photons weren’t supposed to have mass, and the way the light creeped around the kitchen sure seemed to indicate mass. It was around that time that thinking started to hurt, so she decided to file those questions for analysis at a later date and focus on eating.

“Do you think you can take out the cake, Pinkie?”

The baker already had an oven muzzle on and was waiting for further instructions.

“Good!” Twilight said. “I’ll keep you safe from anything that tries to get near you, so go ahead.”

They both nodded and Pinkie started slithering her way to the oven while Twilight casted one protective spell after another, occasionally scanning their surroundings for any errant malevolent force trying to get in. So far they’d had no trouble, but neither was willing to let their guard down.

Once Pinkie had made it to the oven, she looked back to Twilight and they shared a glance of reassurance. Pausing for a second, she turned around once more and opened the oven door, when all Tartarus broke loose.

Twilight would later kick herself for using that phrase.

As soon as the oven door opened, a vortex pushed them back. Gales came from deep within the appliance, sending the various utensils strewn about the kitchen come flying towards Twilight. She barely had time to put on a shield before they all crashed upon her.

Several alarms were ringing in Twilight’s mind, mostly crying about Pinkie’s safety. Though it hurt her eyes to look straight into the source of light, she did so out of fear for her possibly-more-than-just-a-friend, though it was here ears which first informed her of the baker’s state.

“Wheeeeeeeeee!”

“Pinkie!”

Pinkie Pie was holding on the door’s handle, swaying up and down as the wind coming from the oven whipped her around like a flag on a cart.

“Hold on, Pinkie! I’m going to bring you here!”

Pinkie looked back with fear in her eyes. “Wait, I still have to get the cake back!”

Twilight’s eyes darted back and forth, every second which passed was another chance for Pinkie to get hurt, or worse. She had to think of something, and quick.

“Hold on! I’m going to try pushing you with my magic!”

Pinkie’s eyes softened for a second, but she gave her a firm nod and gripped the handle even tighter.

Wasting no more time, Twilight enveloped Pinkie with a telekinetic field and slowly pushed forward while Pinkie pulled herself with all the might of her earth pony magic. The maelstrom of dark energies proved to be a worthy adversary, but they were a pair of stubborn ponies when they needed to be, and soon Pinkie managed to stretch her hoof into the oven.

For quite some time, Twilight would rack her brain for a way to describe what happened at that moment, but since replicating that scenario is off the table, she may never know for sure.

During a fraction of a second which stretched for far longer than it should, the dark magic in their immediate vicinity stood still, even the winds stopped. Then, a pulse of energy came from the source of green light, and two things paradoxically happened at the same time. The dark energies imploded and rushed towards the oven while Pinkie and Twilight were pushed away.

The shock was enough for Twilight to lose her concentration for a second, releasing the shield spell and her telekinetic grip on Pinkie, who came barrelling towards her and towards the opposite wall of the kitchen.

For a second, neither moved, focused solely on making sure every part of their body and mind was in the place they were supposed to be. Once they were sure there was nothing wrong with them, they exchanged one look and promptly burst out laughing.

They laughed and kept laughing until they ran out of breath. Once they calmed down, PInkie Pie uncrossed her forelegs and showed Twilight the little cake she was holding.

“Is that…?”

“Yuppers.”

The cake was only slightly larger than a cupcake, but it was probably one of the most beautiful cakes Twilight had ever seen.

“When did you have time to decorate it?”

“The book said it would take care of the details as long as I had a clear picture in my mind.”

Deciding not to entertain the thought of a sapient book which was also possibly evil, Twilight focused on the cake itself. Though a bit squashed in spite of Pinkie’s protection, the cake was covered in a beautiful violet gradient which reminded her of a starry sky. The errant hints of pink and purple shades only served to make it all the more captivating.

“Well… This is no quite how I imagined I’d be giving you this,” Pinkie started, and Twilight let out a few giggles at that.

“I imagine none of us expected this.”

“To be fair, I was going to put on a light show,” Pinkie added with a smirk.

She felt the laughter coming back, but she also wanted nothing more than to call it a night. She had been awakened at three in the morning, after all.

“I accept your cake, Pinkie,” Twilight said, smiling at the sheer joy spreading through Pinkie’s face.

As she took the first bite, Twilight wondered if some of the dark magic hadn’t made it into the cake itself, because it seemed impossible for a cake to taste as good as this one did. Then, she realised that was not only a reasonable question, but an alarming one. However, the cake tasted really good.

“This is,” Twilight mumbled in between bites of the cake, “wow.”

Pinkie bit her lip as her cheeks puffed. The sight was adorable, and it brought warmth to Twilight’s heart. Without even thinking, she broke off a sizeable piece of her cake and floated it towards Pinkie.

“Wha… But, Twilight. I made this for—”

“I know… And I want to share it with you.”

Pinkie Pie blinked and smiled faintly at herwords. She was the happiest pony Twilight had ever known, few were the times she didn’t have a smile on her face. That smile, though, that one blew them all away.

“Thank you, Twilight,” she said, her voice barely a whisper as she accepted her piece of cake. Such a little gesture, but one which held so much meaning for the two. So much that, even once they finished the concerningly delicious cake, neither wished to move.

“What now?” Pinkie said, breaking their silence.

“Now… Well, now we should make sure everything is back in order, I wouldn’t want to explain to the Cakes why there’s a three faced squid hidden somewhere in the pantry.”

They both giggled as they stood up and started putting the kitchen back in order. Twilight started picking up the several utensils and putting them over the counter, they’d have to make sure they were clean come the morning. Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie checked the oven just to make sure it was indeed eldritch-being-free, and then moved on to the food elevator which connected to the basement, only to be pulled in by a fleshy tentacle.

“No!” Twilight screamed, and was already jumping down the elevator shaft before she even realised it.

She could still see her fluffy pink tailed, though it was getting further and further away. In an act of desperation, she teleported herself forward and managed to hold Pinkie by her waist.

“Pinkie, get ready! I’m going to teleport us back!”

Twilight thought she heard Pinkie reply, but by now she knew better than to trust her senses. She started gathering magic for the spell when she noticed they were no longer being pulled. Her curiosity got the better of her for a second and opened her eyes. That briefest of instants was enough to send waves of unrelenting horror coursing through her mind.

“Aaaaaaie! Pinkie! Don’t look!” She yelled.

“Wow, it’s like a kaleidoscope but with less straight lines, and three dimensional!”

“Pinkie, I told you not to look!”

“Hey, I think I see ourselves up ahead, but we’re longer and don’t have tails.”

“What part of don’t look you don’t understand?”

“Oh, there’s more of us further beyond, but they—Huh, why are they folding upon each other?”

“That’s it, we’re out of here!”

A flash which could not quite be described as a flash later, Pinkie and Twilight landed back on the kitchen’s floor, and Twilight promptly casted a dozen different cleansing spells upon them.

“No! No no nono no! No! No!” she yelled as she held to her rationality for dear life.

“That’s odd, everything didn’t disappear once you ate the cake…” Pinkie wondered out loud as she sat on her haunches and rubbed her chin. “But the recipe said both hearts would be fulfilled if everything went right. Was it because I’m not ambidextrous?”

“Nononono—Wait, hold on. Both hearts?” Twilight asked, pulled out of her existential crisis.

“Yeah, at the very end of the recipe, it said if both halves of a heart did the recipe correctly, then Inanna would bless them with happiness and—”

Pinkie didn’t get to finish that sentence. Twilight ran out of the kitchen and called forth the blasted book of bad bakes and flipped it open to the page of the Testimony of True Love. She cursed herself for not double-checking her translation. She had assumed left and right hearts meant left and right hooves as they often did in some potion making rituals, just as Pinkie had, but Twilight had overlooked something obvious.

True love isn’t one-sided, true love is the connection between two ponies, which means it can’t be done by just one person. Left and right heart weren’t a poetic way of referring to left and right hooves, they meant—

“Pinkie, get your ingredients out!” Twilight yelled as she teleported back to the kitchen. “We’re doing some baking!”

Many years later, Pinkie Pie would confide in Twilight that she had dreamed of hearing those exact words from her mouth many, many times.

In a frenzy, Twilight recalled the pots, bowls, and utensils from where she had left them while Pinkie took out the ingredients they would need. They threw it together on a table and opened the book.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Just as she said this, the floor started to shake. They exchanged one nervous look before they started falling in opposite directions.

After regaining her bearings, Twilight groggily got up, only to realise she was standing on the wall. One quick look around and she found Pinkie had her head stuck in the paper lamp on the ceiling.

“Pinkie, are you alright?”

“No, this is electrical light, not an oil lamp. I won’t catch fire.”

Either that had been a joke, or Pinkie was still a bit stunned. Nevertheless, she was glad she was conscious.

“Pinkie we have to bake a new cake if we are to stop this. I’m going to pass you the ingredients and you get to work.”

“Wait, how will we know who’s left and who’s right?”

“Let’s just pick one and hope Inanna gives out points for good intentions,” Twilight yelled as she threw Pinkie a bag of flour, baking powder, and salt while she took a bowl and started magically heating the cream with the butter.

They worked in a hurry, Pinkie focused on her bowl while Twilight kept an eye out for any danger. Suddenly, Pinkie stopped stirring and looked into the distance, though before Twilight could ask what was wrong, the baker’s tail started twitching.

“Twilight, look out!”

Twilight immediately looked up, afraid of any errant object which may come her way.

“No! To your right!”

She looked to her side just in time to feel a rolling pin miss her head for a hair’s breadth.

“Wait, that’s your other right…”

“No time, gimme your mix, my batter is ready, and if you even attempt to make a joke I swear our first date will be in a dusty old library with no colouring books!”

Pinkie’s face went from worried, to mischievous, to shocked, to happy, and then back to worried in the span of a second. Rather than saying anything else, she threw her bowl to Twilight, who quickly mixed the two together wishing with all of her heart for her and Pinkie to be together and alive once the morning came.

Before she had to say anything, Pinkie Pie was already separating the whites and yolks of the eggs. As soon as she did, Twilight teleported the whites into the mix and replaced it with sugar.

They diligently kept their work while thinking about each other in whichever lovingly odd way the recipe asked, and a small voice inside Twilight’s mind noted that if it weren’t for the impending doom due to dimensional apocalypse, this would be a bit romantic.

Shaking her head, Twilight threw her bowl at Pinkie, who caught it with a weird brown glove thing before hitting her own bowl back with a bat, and she couldn’t help but think if that was a product of the dark magic or just Pinkie being Pinkie.

Nevertheless, she sprinkled the flour over the beaten whites while thinking about how the peaks of the meringue represented the highs and lows their relationships would go through, which is why she could’ve been excused for not seeing the return of the insect-like legs coming from the ceiling.

“Waaaaah!” Pinkie cried as the legs started creeping towards her bowl.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Twilight yelled as she shot a few gusts of air at the spindly limbs, making them bend in ways her mind decided not to process. “Pinkie, we have to do the next step together, jump and I’ll catch you!”

Pinkie tore her eyes from the insec-like legs coming from the ceiling and looked at Twilight. Her eyes showed nothing but the utmost resolution. Holding the bowl with both forelegs, she jumped downwards just as Twilight did the same.

They hit one another near the middle of the room, and their different axis of gravity caused them to start spinning, neither falling to the floor nor the walls.

“Woah!”

“Don’t let go, Pinkie. There’s just another step before we bake this!”

Nodding, Pinkie poured her bowl into Twilight’s, and threw it out once she was done, inadvertently hitting the one of the eye-like orbs of the creature of writhing flesh from the basement which was leaking into the kitchen through the pipes. Undeterred, Twilight started folding the batter gently into itself until it was completely even.

“Great!” Twilight said, with more joy than she had felt since they started baking. “Now we just have to—”

Her words were cut short by the fleshy tentacle from the elevator, which shor out of the shaft and crashed into the bowl, breaking it and sending most of the batter flying away.

“No!” they both screamed in unison.

Before despair could take over, Twilight pulled forth all the pieces of batter she could see and held it with her magic. It was barely enough for an ecláir, but they had no chocolate icing, but she was sure they could improvise.

“This will have to do,” Pinkie said, sounding both worried and hopeful. “I’ll get to work on something to use as a filling, you put it in a mold and bake it.”

Twilight nodded and turned around to see the oven broken in two.

“It’s okay, I have magic,” Twilight said, eyes twitching, and ignited her horn. She focused a heat spell on the glob of batter and hoped to Celestia it would bake evenly.

As the spongy cake started to become spongy, Twilight noticed the windows were once again twisting upon themselves. Clockwise, this time.

“Pinkie!”

“Filling’s done. Is the baked good baked and good?” Pinkie asked.
A quick scanning spell told Twilight the batter had reached the perfect state, so she cancelled her spell. “Done, now we—”

As if choosing the most dramatic moment possible, Sugarcube Corner itself started shaking, and the twisting windows gave room for small vortices, from where a claw with too many talons emerged and grabbed Pinkie by her neck.

“Oh,” was all she could say before she was pulled in.

Twilight froze as her body stopped working. The world itself, as lively as it was, stood still as she saw the claw pull Pinkie in stop motion.

“No...” she whispered, the words hanging lifeless in the kitchen’s silent air.

No.

“No.”

No.

"No!"


Pinkie Pie blinked a couple of times, her face completely expressionless as she registered what Twilight had just said, and just a second later, Twilight herself did.

“Wait! No, I mean. No no, that’s not what I, wait,” the unicorn blubbered, words flowing without reason as her brain tried to catch up with what she just heard.

She saw the light go out of Pinkie’s eyes and be replaced with cold, hard sadness.

“I don’t mean no!” Twilight yelled finally, not able to take the sight of a sad Pinkie.

Sadness gave room to doubt. Optimistic doubt, but one that seemed it didn’t want to get to hopeful.

“It’s just… This is so sudden, I don’t… I mean, I’ve never been with anyone, I mean, I don’t think anyone has ever, you know, for me,” Twilight said, aware of how close she was to descending into pure word salad, but having to force herself to speak anyway lest Pinkie interpreted her silence as a rejection.

She did notice that, as eager as she was to assure Pinkie she didn’t mean to say ‘no’, she wasn’t rushing to say ‘yes’, either.

“I… I know it must be a lot to take in, Twilight,” Pinkie said, rubbing her foreleg with her free hoof. It was then that Twilight noticed she was still holding her hoof. She almost withdrew it, but thought otherwise. “But I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know, but I don’t want you to feel any pressure either.”

Pinkie Pie was nervous now. Nervous was better than sad, in Twilight’s scale.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let Rarity convince me to tell you…”

“Tomorrow!” Twilight yelled, catching Pinkie’s attention.

“Wha—?”

“You deserve an answer,” Twilight said in a slightly higher-pitched voice. “And you deserve one now, but right now I just, I just can’t, I need some time alone. Time to think… But tomorrow… Tomorrow I’ll give you an answer.” She looked straight into Pinkie’s eyes. “I promise.”

Pinkie’s face remained expressionless for a second before a smile tugged at her lips.

“Pinkie Promise?” she ventured.

“Pinkie Promise,” Twilight replied, doing the motions as she smiled as well.

She’d have a lot to think about tonight, but deep down she knew she could sort this out. Whatever she decided, the last thing she wanted was to—


“—hurt her, you hear me!? Don’t you dare hurt her!” Twilight yelled as she pulled back the eldritch claw with her magic. The thing may be able to bend in ways which defied reasons, but Twilight was going to find a way to bend it so it hurt if it was the last thing she did.

Once its grip on Pinkie lessened, the baker paddled through the air, floating towards Twilight.

“Pinkie, I don’t know how long I can hold it, you have to finish the cake!” she yelled, looking at the simultaneously terrified and relieved pink pony. She didn’t give her time to reply, instead throwing the cooked pastry at her and trusting she’d get the work done.

She looked back at the twitching claw as it came undone and dozens of fleshy tendrils swayed as though each had a mind of its own. So focused she was on keeping it contained that she didn’t notice similar tendrils coming from the vortices left by the other windows.

“Pinkie—!”


“—Promised,” Twilight said once more.

Pinkie Pie was once again smiling, there was a hint of apprehension in her eyes, but the happiness in them overshadowed it anyway.

“Alright, Twilight,” she said. “I’ll wait for you.”


The kitchen exploded. There were not two ways about it, and Twilight was glad, because she was running out of ways of rationalising the paradoxes. However, that still left the problem of the kitchen exploding.

A golden orb of light was at the centre of the room, and shockwaves rippled through the air, splintering the wood, shattering the glass and melting the metal. The horrid creatures of nightmare squirmed in agony as the golden light disintegrated them. Pinkie and Twilight fell to the floor with the aid of normal, euclidean gravity, and were also pushed by the energy of the new cake.

Just when the walls started to give in, time stood still and reality was sucked into the gold light. Suddenly, the light went away, as did the forces pushing and pulling existence—alongside most of the damage dealt to the structural integrity of Sugarcube Corner—and both mares found themselves lying on the kitchen floor once more.

After a few seconds where neither moved expecting the skies to split apart or for Discord to pop in a claim it was all an elaborate joke, both Twilight and Pinkie stood up and threw themselves at each other in the strongest hug either of them had ever given in their lives.

They laughed, and cried, and sobbed, and wailed and then went back to laughing as they realised their ordeal was finally over. Neither was able to form a coherent string of words, but it didn’t matter, they were alive, they were safe, the Cake’s dark magic insurance would cover most of the damages left, and most importantly, they were together.

Twilight buried her face in Pinkie’s neck, drying her tears in her coat, much like Pinkie was probably doing. After a few seconds of nuzzling each other, Twilight raised her eyes and didi a double take.

“What is it, Twi? More monsters?”

“No, no. It’s just… Well, look,” Twilight said as she pointed at the little, somewhat rectangular cake they’d made.

“Oh, right. The cake,” Pinkie said in the least enthusiastic way Twilight had ever heard her talk about pastries.

Twilight floated the little thing towards them and held it between the two. “It doesn’t look as pretty as the one you made… Though I guess we did get rid of the evil creatures.”

“I think it’s a fair trade,” Pinkie said. “Wanna share?”

Twilight giggled. “I suppose it’ll be time for breakfast soon,” she said, and broke the cake in two. Pinkie ate her half in a single bite, while Twilight took a few small bites.

“You know, the the snake~y thingies ate the banana filling I was making, so I had to improvise and used the leftover cream to make whipped cream,” Pinkie said after swallowing.

“Huh… Interesting.”

“Hey, I guess this counts as a new type of cake, what should we call it?”

Twilight smiled. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to think of a name,” she said before giving Pinkie a quick peck. The baker was frozen for a second before opening her mouth wide as she inhaled deeply and jumped on Twilight, peppering her with many, many kisses.

Many years later, Twilight Sparkle would look back and find it odd how even though this cake objectively did not taste as good as the one Pinkie had made, it was somehow much more satisfying.