Pinkie: "Come on Fluttershy! Let's watch some Naruto!"

Fluttershy: "We could watch, um, my compost heap. It's the same thing."

Pinkie Pie: "Did you just call my anime tastes garbage?"

Fluttershy: "Oh no, garbage can be recycled. Compost just needs to be repurposed altogether."

Twilight: "Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy are doing something I've never seen either of them do, and it scares me."

Dash: "What?"

Twilight: "They seem to be... angry with each other."

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Selene The Crimson RED Changeling Empress Chapter eleven. Vote looks so far pretty one sided.
I wonder if that because of common sence or some actually read the storys i get my voting idea from...

Anyway i have a bit of a absolutly mad idea...
Please tell me what you think about it. Here is the very rough and unfinished version of Chapter 11:
》》》

Selene The Crimson RED Changeling Empress
By: " Black--Soul "

Chapter Eleven: xxx

Write the vote result here
Xxxx

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I had withdrawn in forest, and my song 
Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; 
And to the forest edge you came one day 
(This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, 
But did not enter, though the wish was strong: 
You shook your pensive head as who should say, 
‘I dare not—too far in his footsteps stray— 
He must seek me would he undo the wrong. 

Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all 
Behind low boughs the trees let down outside; 

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I've thrown away my toys, even my drum and train.
I wanna make some noise with real live aeroplanes.
Some day I'm going to fly, I'll be a pilot too.
And when I do, how would you like to be my crew?

On The Good Ship Lollipop.
It's a sweet trip to a candy shop
Where bon-bons play
On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay.

Lemonade stands everywhere
Crackerjack bands fill the air
And there you are
Happy landing on a chocolate bar.

See the sugar bowl do the tootsie roll

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http://www.fimfiction.net/chapter/1027599
password = Horseshoe

Rough draft, not even a single 1k yet. Quick question to you, the readers.

Does what I have so far embody the ramblings from a little girl? It's not too far disconnected that it only feels like someone intentionally writing the part and trying to make you clumsily believe it, I guess is what I'm trying to avoid.

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On the planet of Mars
They have clothes just like ours,
And they have the same shoes and same laces,
And they have the same charms and same graces,
And they have the same heads and same faces…
But not in the
Very same
Places.

By Shel Silverstein

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Hey y’all, just checking back in so you know I’m alive.

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Certain things... loss of control type things. They are VERY BAD. They should never happen to anybody. But. Some of us might be deeply conflicted about our sometimes same sex feelings. Even if 90% of these feelings are for ponies and their beautiful, beautiful cocks.

Though seriously who could say 'no'?

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Fever Dreams of a Trampoline:

My name is Princess, and I like short skirts and explosions. Today's story includes a little of the first, and a lot of the second. Bad ponies are doing bad things bad things with poison joke, and as long as Cadance's checks aren't bouncing, it's my job to stop them.

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Zoey groaned. How many more times was she going to wake up like this? Even with her eyes closed, she could sense the bright light around them.

…Wait. Light.

“Lisa?” she turned her head, opening an eye. Her voice was still hoarse from the screaming.

No Lisa.

Zoey shot up with a heave, propping herself up with an arm against the grass beneath her.

Grass?

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got another one-shot in the making! also got 2 papers to write this weekend so not now, but soon it'll be finished.

basically it's about Spike coming back to Canterlot for whatever reason and visiting his old piano teacher, and the bond they share. it's still in the very rough stages and i'm not sure exactly what i want to say with this story, but i still want to write it.

and i got the perfect, jokey title for it already

Scales

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“Alright, everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine. We totally didn’t get swallowed up by some all-consuming bubble just now! Nothing terrible or crazy has happened, and everything is just. Fine. Just…”

Lisa’s quiet muttering jolted Zoey from her daze. She blinked, looking down at her hands.

No blood.

That was the weirdest daydream ever. Like, ever ever.

“Lisa?” Zoey hopped off her stool, kneeling down beside her babysitter. “Is something wrong?”

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Thunk.

The floor creaked beneath her feet. Distant, metallic screeches echoed through her skull, almost drowning out her muted humming. Her small fingers tightened around the fragile glass of the cup she held, unwilling to let it come shattering to the floor. A dim corridor terminated her path ahead—three doors. Faint voices echoed from behind the one to her left.

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I don’t know what I’m smelling anymore.
I smell wood. There is no wood. Just air. It makes me sick.
I wish there was wood. Then I wouldn’t feel so lonely.

I smell leaves.
They’re new. Except they’re not. They’re dead. They’ve been dead. They crunch under my feet as I walk.
Crunch crunch. Like chips.
I wish i had chips.

Walking is dumb. Flying is better.
I try and fly. I scrape my knee. It hurts. I watch the blood run down my leg.
I don’t feel it. It’s just there.

I hear voices.

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They were in an accident and could really use some help. Details here

So, I'm thinking of rewriting The Wayfarers summery for the coming year. I've been tinkering with it for a while, but I'm thinking of trying something else completely. Maybe something a little more in the vague side? I want the reader to have an idea of what they're getting into, but I also don't want to be so wordy. I don't know. I'm open to suggestions.

For now, though, bed. Swamped from work.