What do I think about my friends? Truly? Are you sure you wish to know?
That is why you came to see me, Miss Rarity, so you could talk about—
Yes, yes, of course. Just… just give me a moment.
Whenever you’re ready.
All right… all right. What do I think about my friends? Hmm…
Fluttershy is the most darling mare I’ve ever known. She is absolutely gorgeous, with the softest hair and primary feathers you’ll ever see on a pegasus! She’s always there for me, whenever I need a shoulder to cry on or a partner to visit the spa with. She and I go weekly, you see, every Thursday. It’s very… intimate. Every time I’m there with her, my heart won’t stop racing. If it weren’t for the spa treatments, why, I think my lips might dry out! She also… oh my heavens I can barely speak the words…
She… makes the most delightful little noises whenever she’s being massaged! Sometimes I want to be the cause of those noises, to feel her under my hooves, to take away her aches and pains and give back to her at least a tenth of what she gives me each and every day!
So I wrote this earlier today after a super rough day at work, and I think it really showed in the quality of the writing here. This was not at all what I was kinda picturing it would be this morning when I was considering the idea. Pale shadow, etc. But it’s still okay, I guess? I dunno. Enjoy, or don’t, as you will.
Specifically DB is exactly right about the telling. Far too heavy on it. I pictured a lot more showing than what we actually see.
Rainbow Dash whisked through the air on a mission of the utmost importance: her girlfriend wanted to meet up with her. Powerful swift strokes of her wings carried her faster and faster as she flew with purpose. Pinkie had slipped her a notice with her morning breakfast to meet up at their secret little hiding spot in the woods just outside Ponyville. Rainbow grinned as her imagination burst with images; there was only one reason Pinkie’d meet up with her in private rather than public.
“I’m about to get laaaaid,” Dash sang. Her mind poured over the possibilities; Pinkie was always kinky. There was this thing she could do with her tongue that… Dash shivered and flew even faster.
So fast that she almost blew by the hiding spot. She flared out her wings and almost burst out a sonic boom as she halted, easing down into the meadow. There was Pinkie, sitting on a blanket, a picnic basket filled to the brim with pastries and other food. Dash smirked and sauntered up, strutting with spread wings. “Hey, Pinkie,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.
Then she froze. Pinkie wasn’t laughing.
She was crying.
So, this story was originally an SMP idea meant for the SMP prompt a few prompts back where Pinkie needed someone to make her smile, but I was never able to write it for that. I took the idea, condensed it, and made it safe for work… barely. In truth this one really suffered from the compression; I could’ve probably done better with it if it hadn’t originally been planned to have more time to really flesh it out. Ah well. Like my friend Rawtooth says, a story complete is a story complete, even if it’s not so good.