Big Mac Likes the shy onesEdited by~NavitasErusSirus"Aaannngeelll!" Fluttershy called out.Fluttershy was searching around Sugarcube Cornerfor her rabbit Angel.The shy yellow mare had been looking for her best friend all day and now she was really starting to get worried. She had looked all around the woods, asked several ponies if they'd seen him and had even flown up to Cloudsdale to talk to Dash."Rainbow Dash," she said, "If um. . .if it's not a problem, could you maybe scan the town for Angel? H-he's been missing all day and
"Rainbow Dash looked at her like she had just said the most absurd thing she had ever heard."Uh, Fluttershy?" said Dash."I don't think that would help much; I can't see things that well from way up here."Rainbow Dash paused for a moment. It was a ridiculous idea, but she did love Angel."Unless
I mean, of course, unless you want me to go get Gilda? She has really good eyes"Fluttershy quickly cut her off"Oh! No, that's okay. Thanks anyway...bye"Rainbow Dash just shru
What Hurts the Most CombinedIt was raining again, April showers as it were. Seemed to rain a lot these days not that Big Macintosh minded at all. The rain better suited his mood. There was a calming effect to the steady cadence of it on the roof, the way it fell on the already sodden grounds. He was cold sitting on the front porch while the storm circulated around the farm. The cold felt good, too. It reminded him that he could feel something other than pain. It had been a year already and still there was a dull ache in his heart, a wound to his spirit that would never heal. It hurt every day like it had in the beginning.The door of the house opened and Applejack came out. She had a blanket between her teeth that she draped around Big Macintosh's withers. Then she took up a seat beside him and they sat together in silence. She sat with him like this a lot in the past year. They spoke less to each other than they had their entire lives, yet somehow they'd grown closer. He knew that without the support of his sist
Social AnxietyShe thought he was beautiful.He thought she was perfect.She scrutinised herself when he was with other girls;She was the only one he saw.He was the last thing on her mind at night.He woke with an image of her smile.He would listen out for her in crowds.She would strain to hear his name.He could never draw his eyes away;She could never look.He would share his umbrella to keep her from getting wet-She always hoped for rain.He once wrote her a letter to express his admiration.She couldn't read his writing.She promised herself that she would tell him.He decided it was time to come clean.She would hide her face when he came near,And he would brush her hair back for her.He would study the soft oval of her countenanceAnd she would lift her chin and look into his eyes.And he would smileAnd all barriers would fall between themAnd all doubt would evaporate for one single, perfect moment.And he would know she loved him.And she would know he was hers. He clears his
Band Is...(Marching) Band is...Marching out on the track, rain or shineKeeping your chin up and staying in lineHolding your flute parallel to the groundHitting the drums, listening to the soundYelling your face off at each football gameDefending the band when your friends call it lameDrawing the drum majors up on the boardSpinning down hallways when everyone's boredWearing the hats and the shiny black shoesBeing hit by a trombone and getting a bruiseShoving the fluffy feathers into your hatBeing able to tell if your instrument's flatLeaving lunch early to go off to BandFighting over who puts away the music standMemorizing songs and marching aroundWondering if you will ever sit downPlaying songs, trying to find the right beatWondering why you have sores on your feetGaming with band friends (especially Brawl)Remembering the whistles and all the band callsKnowing that your band is number one...But most of all, Band is just having fun.