Making friends isn't easy. Twilight Sparkle thought friendship was supposed to be about picnics and songs, not fights and hurt feelings. Princess Celestia never warned her about those. But maybe what feel like detours are just another part of the path, and the 'friendship reports' written and abandoned in fits of rage and sorrow will lead to a genuine one...

Written for the Dialogue Only Contest.

Celestia watched the sunset.

Despite losing her voice due to a sore throat, Trixie has to go to school today. It shouldn’t affect her daily life much.

Huge thanks to PseudoBob Delightus for proofreading this fic!

As Rarity stepped into her workroom, her sewing machine stashed in the corner and half-finished designs chucked into an overflowing trashcan, she felt her already hollow heart somehow crumble further, still in denial over one simple fact: 

Rarity used to be a designer. A good one and a bad one all at once.

But... she wasn’t a designer anymore. 

And if she wasn’t a designer, then she had no use to anypony. 

And if she had no use to anypony, she was worthless.

And if she was worthless, she was better off dead.

Thank you to Maxima for the cover art, and to Jykinturah and RBDash for seeing the absolute worst parts of me as I went through hell last year yet staying with me as if it was the most natural choice in the world. Thank you as well to my supporters on KoFi and Patreon for having faith in me even when I didn't.

As is tradition post-Twilight-Really-Messed-Up-The-Multiverse, the Prime Rarityship Council has its latest meeting. What bonds these Raritys together? The simple fact that they’re all dating a different member of their close friend group.

Commission for Dimbulb.

If Rarity saved half her meals to feed to the fairies so she could stay pretty, Sweetie Belle wasn't going to argue. Rarity was always right, after all.

CW: Eating disorders, anorexia specifically. Hopeful/happy ending, I promise.

Thank you to Snow Quill for prereading!

Princess Flurry's dates are not up to Imperial standards.

With thanks to various Discords for brainstorming and Samey90 and RDT for pre-reading.

A story about the death of decadence.

Set prior to the CMC getting their marks.

Featured as of 8/4/23????? Somehow??????

This story is a sequel to Pray Tell: Who Inscribed All These Bollocks Upon The Walls?

Poor little Cadance.

What little filly wouldn't be miserable under all the pressure of being the world's only other alicorn princess? Say goodbye to a normal life, normal school, normal friends, and, maybe worst of all, your only role model is the literal perfect pony. Rough life, huh? To get back at auntie, she's going to, armed with a screwdriver and a knowledge of school desk graffiti, make her quite literal mark on the palace.

Celestia is a princess out of her element: running a country is easy. Raising a filly is hard. She is also, incidentally, something of an expert at vandalism.

Maybe there's a lesson here after all.

Unapologetically saccharine sweet. Chronological prequel to the fic listed. You probably don't need to read it to understand what's going on, but you should.

T rated for general content. Very tame, really.

Oh noes!!!1!!11!!1!!11! Equestria has, through horrifying circumstances, ended up at war with a particularly pesky principality of perpetually pissed-off griffons! Ponies of all kinds have been called up to serve their remaining princesses and fight off the beaked menaces, in locales as varied as tropical beaches to, at the extreme end, parched desert. Luckily, the love of country has rendered even the softest, most insipid, most utterly ordinary ponies into a well-oiled fighting machine.

Unfortunately, it turns out that the love of country has rendered the most utterly extraordinary ponies into a complete and total liability. Oops.

Lowbrow comedy. Something of a spiritual successor to my first (bafflingly successful) story, A Cursory Background Check. Contains acts of violence, paragraphs of sex jokes, and a general level of intelligence about five standard deviations below the mean.