Midnight is just another normal unicorn and also perfectly sane. The second voice in her head agrees to that. What the voice, but not Midnight, agrees to is her crush on a cute filly named Sparkle. Follow the misadventures of Midnight as she deals with a past dragging her into insanity, the stress of final exams and later her occupation and a love story she never wants to happen.

Read this should you not have read previous stories by me using the same universe.

Cover image provided by the awesome TheXIIILightning. Go look him up and give him all your love and moneys. Right now!

Note please: The following stories are in the same universe; An unknown sensation, Splitting aMid the Night, To Jack a Rainbow, Two of a kind.

In addition, Strength and Perception take place in a parallel universe to that one, where things are almost the same, but not quite.

Warning: While this is basically just retelling a story playing in a candy colored universe, Midnight has the gift of seeing the world as it actually is. There are no descriptions of rape or such stuff, but Midnight is aware of their existence. Read only if you can handle a realistic view of the world.

Lotus and Aloe are an amazing team, always there for each other. There is nothing that could ever come between them, no secret that they couldn't share. Right?

Sometimes, a kiss will make or break a world, say more than a thousand words could. Sometimes, a letter will do the same job, if only honest.

What is there even to say about this...

This is a collection of unrelated and probably incredibly soggy letters of emotion. If you want to see your favorite pairing, go ahead and let me know what it is. I will add to this whenever I feel like it.

There are infinite universes, and with them come infinite possibilites. Or do they?

Loosely based off of MMC, retold in a way that attempts to make it not shitty, with mixed in elements from Infinite.

I thought I had more stuff for the description this time, but noooo. Sigh.

My name is Twilight Sparkle and I am a coward. Why do the words which matter the most have to be the hardest to speak?

Twipov, first person.

Why do I always run out of things to put into the description?