Chapter 3: Rarity
Scootaloo’s New Family
By Alaborn
Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.
Chapter 3: Rarity
A dejected Scootaloo trudged into Twilight Sparkle’s castle, her head down, each hooffall heavy against the crystal floor. The noise was enough to attract the princess’s attention, and she walked to meet her. “Did things go wrong with the Apples?” she asked.
“I’ve proved I’m not an Apple, and I never want to eat an apple again,” Scootaloo replied.
“Perhaps you’d like to talk about your experience?” Twilight Sparkle said.
“No, I want to go to my next family. A mare who is sure to be generous with her time and care.”
“I thought you might choose Rarity next. Let me talk to her about this, and then we’ll go over there together.”
“There’s no need for that. I’m sure she’s expecting me. This is Rarity we’re talking about,” Scootaloo said.
“You do have a point there,” Twilight Sparkle said.
Scootaloo loaded a few of her favorite possessions into her wagon and zipped over to Carousel Boutique. Twilight Sparkle settled onto the ground next to her and pushed open the door.
Rarity was setting out some outfits on her ponyquins, hats and scarves floating in her magical aura. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique,” she started, before recognizing her guests. “Ah, Twilight and Scootaloo. I thought you might be coming by,” she said with a smile.
“Scootaloo has a very special request to make of you, Rarity,” Twilight Sparkle said.
“Interested in finding a new mother within these fabulous walls?” Rarity said.
“So you’ve heard?” Scootaloo said.
“Well, it is the talk of town. Your proclamation has created quite the buzz, Twilight. I dare say all of Equestria will soon hear of it!”
Scootaloo shuffled her hooves and frowned slightly.
Twilight Sparkle wrapped a wing around Scootaloo and gently nudged her. “Go on,” she said.
Scootaloo cleared her throat. “Rarity, I would like to try living with you. Would you be my new mother?”
Rarity lowered herself, looking Scootaloo in the eye. “And why did you choose me? We are as different as two ponies can be.”
“Well, you and Sweetie Belle are pretty different, too. But you do so much for her, watching her all the time. You’re always there for her, and that’s what I need.”
“And you’re not afraid I’m going to make you model my fall line?” Rarity asked.
“Well, I did think about it, but then I remembered that you’ve never forced Sweetie Belle to do anything like that,” Scootaloo said.
“Indeed. Of course, she’s volunteered to help me, and I’m grateful for her... enthusiasm,” Rarity said. “Rest assured, Scootaloo, that while I’d be happy to teach you about fashion, modeling, or gems, if that is your desire, I do not expect you to share these interests.”
“So is that a yes?” Scootaloo asked.
“Of course, dear.”
“Okay, Scootaloo, you’re to treat Rarity as your mother from now on,” Twilight Sparkle said. “Do you need any help, Rarity?”
“Not at all, Twilight. I’ve already set up Scootaloo’s room in anticipation of this day.”
“Well then, good luck, Scootaloo,” Twilight Sparkle said.
Rarity carried Scootaloo’s box in her magic as they headed upstairs. She opened the door to a room that was very familiar to Scootaloo. A large bed, easily able to sleep three fillies, dominated the room. She knew that, since the Crusaders had shared the bed during many sleepovers.
“Isn’t this Sweetie Belle’s room?” she asked.
“Technically, this is my guest bedroom. Due to my parent’s... travels, it is frequently used by Sweetie Belle. If I need to care for her overnight, would you be willing to share? If you prefer privacy, we can work out a solution.”
“No, a sleepover’s great!” Scootaloo said.
“Still, this will be your room, and the first thing to do is make it your own. Some fresh paint, some new curtains, and we’ll be ready,” Rarity said. “Perhaps one of your items could serve as the inspiration for the room?”
“Well, I do like my Wonderbolts poster,” Scootaloo said.
“Excellent. We shall look at blue and gold. Or perhaps a lighter blue, reminiscent of a certain pegasus?”
“Cool!”
“Now, you’ve been here enough to know where everything is. I will reiterate that you are not to touch things like my good tea service or anything in my workshop without my express permission, no matter how much you think it might help you earn your cutie mark,” Rarity said seriously. “Now, that said, how about a light breakfast?”
Memories of this morning’s aborted breakfast filled Scootaloo’s mind. “Yeah! Just, nothing with apples, please?”
“I know just the thing,” Rarity replied. “While I’m preparing breakfast, would you please set the table and pour the drinks? I would like a glass of orange juice.”
Scootaloo nodded. “Sure thing.”
Rarity’s kitchen was at least somewhat familiar, but being that it was now hers as well, she looked at it with an appraising eye. The floor and counters were sparkling clean. The stove and icebox were the new kind, powered by magic, and if not brand new they at least didn’t strike her as old, like the ones in her old home. The room probably wasn’t much bigger, but it certainly felt less crowded.
Scootaloo got to work. She knew where things were, so it didn’t take long. First, she went for the plates. She reared to reach the cupboard, grabbed two sets of plates, and spun on her hind hooves, the plates balanced on her back. The juice glasses were in another cupboard, one with a framed glass door. Finally, she opened the drawer with the silverware. Rarity had multiple styles of silverware; Scootaloo stuck with the broad-handled implements suitable for all ponies.
The icebox held a variety of fresh foods. She found the orange juice sitting on the top shelf. Deciding it was a good idea, Scootaloo poured two glasses.
By this time, Rarity was finishing making breakfast. She levitated soft-boiled eggs and toast onto the kitchen table.
After living with the Apples, the table looked rather sparse. “That’s it?” Scootaloo said.
“A lady must watch her figure,” Rarity replied.
Scootaloo continued to stare at the meager spread.
“However, you are an active filly, and I admit I should have thought of that. Let us remedy the situation.” Rarity opened the oven door, and added two more slices of bread to toast.
Scootaloo took added butter and a thick layer of orange marmalade to her toast, grateful that it wasn’t apple jam. It was a simple breakfast, but a welcome change from staying with the Apples.
“Thank you for breakfast, Rarity,” Scootaloo said after they finished eating.
“You’re welcome, dear. Now, let’s clean up, and then we can get ready to face the new day.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“There’s no reason to put off what amounts to a simple chore,” Rarity said. “I find it helps me to be inspired when I have a clean home and a well-organized workspace.”
Scootaloo grumbled, but joined in washing the dishes. Truth be told, it didn’t take long, not at all like cleaning up after a meal in her larger family. She still would have preferred to be doing something else.
“Now, Scootaloo, I have a lot of work to do today. And don’t worry, I’m not asking for your help. That is, unless you’re interested,” Rarity said.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not where my special talent lies,” Scootaloo deadpanned.
“Understood. But don’t be so quick to dismiss anything, well, girlish,” Rarity said. “Have you considered dance? I saw that you have an incredible sense of balance, and I think learning an art like ballet would come easy to you.”
“Well, we did try interpretive dance,” Scootaloo said.
“Interpretive dance is for ponies who are unwilling to learn proper dance,” Rarity huffed. “In any case, give it some thought. I understand if you don’t want to try it with your friends, but it is always good to expand your horizons.”
“Okay, Rarity.”
“Now go out and play. I will expect you home at 5:30 for dinner.”
Scootaloo donned her helmet and stepped onto her scooter. She noted the way she stood, balanced on her hind legs, with only the handle of her scooter for support. Of course, every foal plays around, trying to walk on two hooves, only to stumble a few steps later. But years of practice on her scooter, not to mention walking with a little brother under each foreleg, had made her adept at standing on two hooves.
She let go of the handle, and found little challenge in maintaining her balance. She spun around, first on her right hind hoof, then her left. “Could I really be a dancer?” she asked herself.
She looked, seeing the ponies walking around town, and decided not to test it.
A morning of scooter practice ensued, ending early when the aching of an empty stomach drove her to the market. Scootaloo would normally head over to see Applejack or Big McIntosh for a tasty apple, but she steered clear today, instead picking up some fresh carrots from Golden Harvest.
That afternoon, she met up with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. They contemplated that most important of questions. “What are we going to do today to find our cutie marks?”
“Bird watching?” Sweetie Belle suggested.
“Let’s hunt for mushrooms!” Apple Bloom said.
“I was thinking tree climbing,” Scootaloo said. “But whatever we do, we’re going into the forest today!”
An afternoon of crusading didn’t earn Scootaloo or her friends their cutie marks, but they did come out of the day with something. Tree sap, burrs, scrapes and cuts, and last but not least mud, acquired while returning to her pen the pig that Apple Bloom recruited so they could find those “fancy-shmancy mushrooms” the ponies in Manehattan liked. And this mess couldn’t be dealt with using the cold shower outside the Apples’ barn.
It was nothing new for Scootaloo. Nor was she unfamiliar with how Rarity would act when she saw the condition Scootaloo was in.
But it was the first time she would experience it as Rarity’s daughter.
It was almost 5:30 when they made it back to Ponyville. Scootaloo waved goodbye to Sweetie Belle, who headed to her parents’ home. And then she opened the front door of Carousel Boutique, idly noting the Closed sign.
“Welcome home, Scootaloo,” Rarity said. “Wipe your hooves and... GAH!”
“Sorry, Rarity. Crusading was a bit dirtier than usual,” Scootaloo said.
“You need a bath, right now. I will keep our dinner warm.”
“Okay, Rarity,” Scootaloo replied.
A feeling of dread crept into Scootaloo’s mind as she approached the one room she hated visiting while at Carousel Boutique. The bathroom was so... ugh! It was spotless, of course, but it was all whites and pinks and lilacs, with the overpowering aroma of potpourri. And that was before seeing what’s behind the shower curtain.
She held her breath and pulled back the shower curtain. There, in neatly organized racks, she saw it. Beauty products. Tons of beauty products. All in expensive-looking glass bottles with words in flowing cursive script. The only normal-looking item was a brand new bar of soap, of the kind pegasi used to wash their wings.
“That was thoughtful,” Scootaloo said to herself.
She started a shower and stepped inside once the water was warm. Lingering floral scents tickled at her nostrils as she searched for the shampoo that would be best at cleaning mud and tree sap. Each bottle was tested and rejected for smelling overpoweringly feminine.
Knowing the bar soap wouldn’t do much for her coat or mane, Scootaloo’s only recourse was to use one of Rarity’s shampoos. She held her breath as she washed herself. It was not a very effective strategy, as she got a heady dose of scent each time her lungs demanded air.
Scootaloo stumbled out of the tub once finished, breathing heavily. “It’s okay, I’m sure she’ll be okay if I get my own shampoo,” she said as she toweled off.
She frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her mane possessed shine, bounce, and even a bit of curl that it never had before. “Some time on my scooter will fix that,” she said.
Scootaloo headed to the kitchen, where Rarity was spooning a white sauce over two plates of baked hay. The sauce wasn’t familiar to her, but the vegetables were.
“Brussels sprouts?” Scootaloo said.
“Yes, and I agree, they can be quite revolting, when prepared poorly. But I have put the time and effort into learning good Prench recipes, so I do encourage you to approach dinner with an open mind.
Scootaloo was unconvinced. She poked the horrible vegetable, looking all too much like a tiny cabbage cut in half, with her fork. She brought it to her mouth. She slowly bit down.
“This is delicious!” she exclaimed.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Scootaloo,” Rarity said. “And thank you. I’m glad you like it.”
The main dish was delicious, too. The cream sauce made even a basic dish like baked hay sing in her mouth.
“Cooking is another area where I dabble, Scootaloo,” Rarity said as she finished her meal. “Should you wish to explore a taste of the good life, I would be happy to teach you.”
“Okay.”
“I also took the liberty of borrowing a book on ballet from Twilight. Perhaps you’d like to learn a few steps? The boutique is closed, and it’s just the two of us and Opalescence, so you needn’t fear anypony seeing.”
“I’ll give it a try,” Scootaloo said.
“Excellent. I’ll see you in the showroom after you wash the dishes.”
Scootaloo learned that an excellent meal came with more dirty pots and pans than anypony could fathom. It took quite a bit of scrubbing to clean them. Maybe a simple meal wasn’t such a bad thing.
Once she finished, she went to the showroom. Rarity had moved a few of the displays to the side. Scootaloo looked around the room.
“Don’t worry, you won’t find a tutu here,” Rarity said. “The costumes are part of the beauty that is ballet. The amount that can be communicated with one dancer’s steps, and the position of her forelegs and wings, is truly a sight to behold. For now, though, let us focus on the mechanics.”
With Rarity’s assistance and the illustrations in the book, Scootaloo practiced several ballet steps. She stumbled a bit, especially when she needed to balance on the tips of her hooves, but one thing was clear. Rarity, despite all her cultural affectations, was terrible at dance. Yet despite her limitations, she patiently helped Scootaloo in any way she could.
Scootaloo was sore but happy when she returned to her room. Her happiness faded when she noticed her Wonderbolts poster hanging on the wall... in a frame and under glass. “Rarity!” she yelled.
Rarity poked her head into the room. “Yes, sweetie?”
“What did you do?” she said, pointing.
“Oh. To properly serve as a focus for your room, a poster like that should be matted and framed. Do you not like the frame? I chose a classic presentation.”
“No! I just, you know, want a poster.”
“I’m sorry, Scootaloo. I remembered that Sweetie Belle appreciated her framed poster of Sapphire Shores. I should have thought that you are not the same pony as she is. I promise to make it up to you,” Rarity said.
“That’s okay, Rarity. At least let me think about it.”
Now alone, Scootaloo looked at her poster. It looked nice, perhaps too nice for a poster that every pegasus foal had in her room. In any case, it was a generous gesture from Rarity.
When Scootaloo finally turned in for the night, she weighed her experiences that day. She had thought there was a not insignificant chance Rarity would prove incompatible, and that she’d be gone before the day was over. But the mare had proved nice, if a bit difficult. Scootaloo was looking forward to what the next morning would bring.
With the curtains shut tight against the morning sun, Scootaloo rose at a much more natural time, feeling fully rested. She stretched and yawned. Scootaloo got up and opened the curtains, revealing another fine summer morning.
Scootaloo made her bed, washed up, and headed to the kitchen. Rarity had breakfast ready. It was just oatmeal, but her presentation elevated the simple dish. A small pitcher of cream and a row of small ceramic dishes were set at the center of the table. Scootaloo opened them, finding honey, brown sugar, raisins, and something that looked like raisins.
“What are these?” Scootaloo asked.
“Golden raisins. I find I rather prefer their delicate taste. Have whatever you like with your oatmeal, dear.”
Scootaloo loaded her bowl with brown sugar, both kinds of raisins, and a little cream. Rarity only added a few golden raisins to her bowl. The room fell silent as they started to eat.
“Are you done with the cream?” Rarity asked after a few minutes.”
“Oh, sure.”
Rarity took a saucer out of the cupboard and poured the remaining cream into it. “Opal!” she called. “Mommy has a treat for you!”
Opalescence walked into the room and sniffed haughtily. Finally, she deigned to approach. The cat circled the saucer, and finally started lapping the cream.
“Now, Scootaloo, this morning is my weekly spa visit with Fluttershy, so the boutique won’t be open until later. You’re free to do what you want; the same rules will apply. Feel free to make lunch for you, and for your friends, should you choose to meet here. But do not let Sweetie Belle near the stove. Okay?”
“Okay, Rarity,” Scootaloo said.
“Please clean the kitchen while I freshen up.”
Rarity spent a long time in the bathroom, for a mare about to visit the spa. She returned looking as beautiful as ever.
“I’m off, Scootaloo,” she said. “Be sure to make your bed.”
“I did make my bed,” Scootaloo said.
“You didn’t make your bed well.”
“That’s how it looks when Sweetie Belle’s over!” Scootaloo countered.
“Well, yes. Sweetie Belle is my sister, and that means it is the responsibility of our parents to determine how she will be raised. A sloppily made bed is okay in the eyes of our parents. But in my eyes, it is not. And as my daughter, I am asking you to put more care into making your bed. Replace the sheets, blankets, and bedspread separately, making sure each is neat and smooth before proceeding. And be sure to tuck in the bedspread around the pillows.”
“Okay, Rarity,” Scootaloo grumbled.
“I’m sure you’ll do a fine job. Goodbye, Scootaloo.” Rarity said.
Scootaloo returned to her room, where she stripped her bed and carefully made it exactly as Rarity specified. It took five times as long, time she thought to be utterly wasted, as the bed would just get used again that night.
At least for the next twelve hours, it would look nice.
Scootaloo wondered how she would pass the time until she met with the Crusaders. Her eyes fell on the book about ballet. She could practice on her own.
She looked out the window. Too many ponies were passing by for her to practice outside. Her bedroom was too small, the kitchen too crowded. The best place for her to practice was the same place she had practiced the previous night, in the boutique itself.
The boutique she wasn’t supposed to be in unsupervised.
“I’ll just be careful,” Scootaloo told herself.
Scootaloo carefully stood in the center of the boutique’s showroom. She started with the stretches and balance exercises, and then moved on to practicing steps. Just like last night, she found herself stumbling with the pirouette. She could handle one turn, but making the second proved to be a challenge.
“I can do this,” she said. She rose, bent one leg while rising to tiphoof, and spun with great force, picturing how she spun on her scooter. But her momentum failed, and she fell onto four hooves, one of them landing on something thin and bony.
“MRRROWWW!!!!”
Opalescence screamed as Scootaloo landed on her tail. Scootaloo jumped back and stumbled into something. She looked, seeing one of Rarity’s ponyquins teetering.
“Oh no!”
The ponyquin fell, knocking into its neighbor. The carefully arranged forms fell like dominoes, spilling dresses, hats, and scarves to the floor with a tremendous crash.
“I can fix this,” Scootaloo said. She picked up the first ponyquin and straightened the dress on it. She replaced the second, jumping to place a hat back on it. When she got to the last ponyquin, she stared in horror at the wooden case that fell on top of it. Its contents, a variety of ribbons, sequins, and gems, were spilled everywhere.
“What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” Scootaloo wondered. Then inspiration struck. “Sweetie Belle! She’ll know how to fix it.”
Scootaloo zoomed down the streets of Ponyville, propelling her scooter as fast as her wings allowed. Time was of the essence. She traced the fastest path to the home where her best unicorn friend lived.
She arrived at her destination, nearly wiping out as she skidded to a stop. Sweetie Belle’s mother was outside, fussing with a planter box of flowers. Even though it was summer, she was wearing a shirt and pants. “Oh, hey there, Scootaloo!” she said.
“Is Sweetie Belle here?” Scootaloo asked.
“Oh, no, dearie. She went to the park this morning. Said she’d be back for lunch.”
“No time!” Scootaloo shouted. She hopped on her scooter and took off.
“Why did she have to go all the way to the park?” Scootaloo moaned as she scooted. Once she got there, she had to stop. So many ponies were in the park this morning. Where was Sweetie Belle?
It took Scootaloo ten minutes to find Sweetie Belle, practicing her singing in the gazebo. “I need your help!” Scootaloo shouted.
“What is it?”
“I totally screwed up and knocked something over in the boutique and now I need your help to fix it!”
“Okay, I’ll try, but it’s not going to work,” Sweetie Belle said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve messed up Rarity’s boutique tons of times. Even when I put everything back perfectly, she still knows.”
“Well, we’ve got to do something!” Scootaloo said.
“Okay, we’ll try.”
Scootaloo made it back to Carousel Boutique in record time. She was probably going to have bruises where Sweetie Belle’s forelegs had clutched tightly around her barrel. Meanwhile, the unicorn was kissing the ground.
“Overdramatic much?” Scootaloo said.
“You were going too fast!” Sweetie Belle said.
“We had to get here before... oh.” The sign on the door of Carousel Boutique was turned to Open. It had been on Closed when she left.
Scootaloo opened the door. The showroom of the boutique was just as she left it. She didn’t see Rarity, but she heard sobbing coming from a back room.
Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle crept into the boutique. They opened the door to the back room. There they found Rarity, sprawled on her fainting couch. A half dozen cartons of ice cream sat in a pile next to it, and she had another, plus a spoon, in her magical aura. Chocolate ice cream stained her coat around her mouth.
“I’m ruined. Ruined!” Rarity moaned.
“Rarity, I’m really really sorry,” Scootaloo said. “I didn’t listen to you, and I screwed up, and I’m ready for my punishment.”
Rarity responded by shoveling another large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth before waving her off. “Just let me mourn in peace,” she said.
Sweetie Belle tapped Scootaloo on the withers and motioned for her to follow. They headed outside, Sweetie Belle changing the sign on the door back to Closed. “What did you do?” she asked.
“Um, I’d rather not say. I feel really bad. Is there anything I can do?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve ruined Rarity a dozen times,” Sweetie Belle said.
“Huh?”
“I’ve done things that are nowhere near that bad, and Rarity responds in the same way. It’s like she builds up this vision of perfection in her mind, but eventually something causes the illusion to shatter. That’s just the way she is. But some time later, she’ll take a look at whatever it was that ‘ruined’ her, and she’ll find inspiration, and then she’ll be back to normal.”
“So you’re saying she’s a drama queen?” Scootaloo said.
“You know it. That’s why even though my dad talks about nothing but sports, and my mom is always wearing those stupid pants, and they’ve both got that whole Whinnyapolis nice thing going, I still prefer to stay with them,” Sweetie Belle said.
“Oh.”
“You were going to see this side of Rarity eventually. I think she does this just to have an excuse to eat ice cream.” Sweetie Belle looked back. “Does this mean you’re going to....”
“Yeah. I’ll tell her.”
“You might want to wait until she’s done crying. She never remembers anything from one of her fits. And then she accuses me of eating her ice cream.”
“Sounds rough,” Scootaloo said. “Well, I’d better go see Twilight.”
Scootaloo found Twilight Sparkle in the alicorn’s favorite place, the room in her castle she was converting into a library. “I’m back,” she announced.
“You look down, Scootaloo. Did something happen between you and Rarity?” Twilight Sparkle asked.
“Yeah, and it’s all my fault.”
“Does this mean you’re giving up?”
“Rarity is very nice, and generous with her time, and even though we had some disagreements, I could live with that,” Scootaloo said. “But I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
“Yes, Rarity is... quite the unique pony in that respect,” Twilight Sparkle said diplomatically. “Are you going somewhere else now?”
“Not right now. I still need to go back and apologize to Rarity and let her know, once she’s calmed down,” Scootaloo said. “But after that, I’m going to a quiet place where there will be no drama whatsoever.”
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Idea: Scootaloo chooses herself. The rules don't say she is choosing her new parents, they say she is choosing her new family.
The scenario I picture is that after all her other options are exhausted, other than the obvious finale of returning to her original family, that she will decide she knows what is best for herself.
Why it fails: In her desperation for anything other than her original family, she forgets the most important parts of any stable family (heh, stable): A good roof over her head and food in the cupboard. Alternatively, she does remember these things but fails to appreciate that providing these things for herself will take all of her free time away.
Oh, and I would pun up Brussels as "Brushies".
derpicdn.net/img/view/2013/3/19/273965__safe_rainbow+dash_smiling_cute_hand_brushie_toothbrush_dashface_so+awesome.png
Well, from what I can see, Scootaloo's going to discover why she can bond with everypony, and why none really work for her as parents.
Next is Fluttershy...
But now I'm really looking forward to Pinkie Pie. ...unless Scootaloo handles that by asking Mr. and Mrs. Cake.
"I can have one sewn up for you in an hour."
"... What?"
"I mean, er, welcome home!"
In any case, between Dash and Rarity, Scootaloo's hit both ends of the supervision spectrum. Now if she could just find a happy medium, preferably one with fewer dairy binges. So, you know, that's Pinkie Pie out, assuming she was ever up for consideration to begin with.
6821674 Don't go in Rarity's basement, Scootaloo.
Oh please oh please don't be one of those fic writers who get an idea, write a few chapters one month, write one more the next month then quit. I like this fic and want it to continue.
Fluttershy!!!
then can you do a Octavia as Skootaloo's mother???
It's getting interesting...
6821724 Don't worry, this will be finished before I move on to another multichapter story.
Problably not gonna happen, but what if she ends up with Twilight? As a princess, she would be less likely to freak out about Scootalo being messy. And she did handle the CMC in Twilight Time, so she could tutor Scoots to possibly fly.
So Fluttershy is next.
I sense Angel Bunny dickery incoming.
“Should you wish to explore a taste of the good life, I would be happy to teach you.”
I see what you did there.
My mom actually cooks brussels sprouts really well. And she's not a high-end restaurant chef either....well....she used to own a restaurant.....wait, does that mean I've been getting restaurant-quality meals my entire life?
Anyways, heh, I'd actually would likely like to live with Rarity. Drama aside....bed making aside....a good cook and seemingly pointing Scootaloo in the right direction of a cutie mark? Nice.
6821857 I just reread that story recently.
6821864 My preferred cutie mark for Scootaloo is one related to her talents on the scooter, but I also like the idea of her being a dancer. She seems to have the right build and athleticism for it.
Curse you, Season Five, for giving the CMC that shared cutie mark!
6821857 Aw, you beat me to it.
This is a fun read. I'm wondering if Fluttershy will be over-protective of her.