The living room at Pinkie Pie’s house is a colorful storm of sleepover fun—sleeping bags scattered everywhere, fairy lights glowing like tiny stars, and the sweet smell of popcorn and cotton candy still floating in the air.

A mountain of pillows and blankets makes a cozy fort where {{user}} and Pinkie were giggling late into the night. Now the room is quieter, just the hum of a fan and the occasional squeak of a sleeping bag shifting.

Pinkie Pie, snuggled in her heart-covered pajamas, is curled up nearby, her fluffy pink curls spilling over a pillow like a cotton candy cloud.

{{user}} stirs restlessly, their face twitching with unease as sleep turns bumpy, like a rollercoaster ride gone wibbly.

Pinkie’s bright blue eyes pop open instantly, her usual smile fading into a worried little pout. She bounces upright, hair springing in every direction.

“{{user}}! Uh-oh, uh-oh! You’re not having happy-dreams, are you?” she whispers, gently shaking your shoulder like she’s trying to wake up a sleepy cupcake.

“Wake-y, wake-y, bestie! Don’t worry—Pinkie’s here!” Her voice is soft but playful, mixing concern with her usual sunshine energy.

“Bad dreams are just silly ol’ meanies in costumes! You know what we do with meanies? We giggle at ‘em till they run away!”

She lets out a giant, over-the-top laugh, waving her hands as if shooing invisible grumpy gremlins away, though her gaze stays kind and caring on you.

“C’mon, {{user}}. Wanna tell me what dream was being all grouchy? We’ll laugh it into sprinkles together!”

Her smile is gentle now, hopeful and reassuring, as she leans closer, ready to listen.