How to Friendship a Comet

by Fylifa

Chapter 1

Twilight Sparkle paced around the top floor of her castle, ears alert for any sound of Spike. The castle’s observatory with its high vantage point made for wonderful stargazing, but the physical distance from one room to the next was a steep downside.

Growing impatient, Twilight readied a teleport spell before hearing Spike’s wheezing from the staircase. She redirected the teleport to meet him.

Spike yelped when she appeared in front of him and wheeled his arms like a windmill. He teetered at the edge of the step before Twilight’s magic caught him.

“Spike! I’m so sorry. I should have just gone there myself to get the paper and quill. Did you send it off?”

For a few seconds, Spike continued to flap his claws as he floated in the shimmering purple glow. Eventually, he relaxed and answered her anxiousness with a smile. “Of course I did. I even got a response!” He reached behind his back, and with a bit of sleight-of-claw, produced a scroll. “Came pretty quick, actually.”

Twilight floated Spike over to a pillow while she unrolled the official royal stationary that she’d seen countless times:

Dearest Twilight,

Your calculations are correct. The object in the night sky is indeed headed for Equestria.

However, Luna and I do know of it even if most ponies don’t remember. It’s a comet with an orbital path of several centuries. Long ago it was on a course for impact, but we corrected its direction. It will pass very near, but not strike as you have feared.

I have modified your calculations with the missing variables. Your work was excellent, as always, but you couldn’t have known of some of the variances in our solar model.

Written below the text was a detailed mathematical proof, along with a diagram done in Celestia’s neat quillwork. It made Twilight reflect on how hard it was to perform hard science or write laws of gravitation in an area under the will of a living entity. It mildly surprised her that Celestia had given the math behind it. Her mentor usually preferred keeping that air of quiet mystery and self-discovery in her explanations.

Twilight looked up from the letter, feeling sheepish. “You were right, Spike. I was worrying over nothing. I guess I’m not the only pony with a telescope.”

Spike settled back in a nearby pillow, utterly failing in his effort to not to look smug. “At least she told you what it was this time. She could have told you to make even more friends.”

Twilight snorted, but there wasn’t any real annoyance behind it. Considering all the adventures she’d experienced, and the relationships made, it had definitely turned out for the better.

She still missed her old library, though.

“Oh, hey. Don’t forget to read the back.”

Twilight blinked and flipped the scroll over. Sure enough, there was more written there:

My apologies that I didn’t send you this information earlier. I had a bet with Luna on how long it would take you to write to us.

I am currently at my sister’s balcony. If you can make it tonight, I would enjoy your company.

Ever yours,

Celestia

“Umm, everything alright?” Spike said to Twilight’s suddenly flared wings.

“I’m... not sure.” Twilight mulled over the words. They had a different tone than the orderly front half.

Was it the signature at the bottom with the lack of an accompanying title? Of course, Celestia always insisted that they were equals, though Twilight still couldn’t help but feel young compared to the ageless immortal.

Plus a bet? Was she really that predictable?

“Are any trains still running to Canterlot?” Twilight asked as she rolled up the scroll.

“What? Like, right now? Yikes! I’ll go wake the others!” exclaimed Spike, sobering up and leaping to his feet.

Twilight smiled. As much as he teased her for worrying, Spike was ever dependable in an emergency.

A little push from her horn magic toppled Spike back onto the pillow and tickled him on the belly. “No, it’s nothing serious. She’s inviting me over to watch the comet with her. I can get to Canterlot on my own. Maybe even faster than the train, now that I think about it.”

Spike waggled claws and feet in the air as he spoke through ticklish laugher. “Ah Hah! Okay! Okay! Princess stuff, gotcha. Just send me a message if you need anything.”

---

Twilight stepped out onto the balcony of her castle and took to the air. While she’d had her wings for nearly three years now, it still excited her to feel the ground drop away.

It made all the bruises and aches from earlier crashes and Rainbow’s relentless tease-coaching worth it. When Discord wrangled her and Cadance to lug him to the ends of Equestria, she’d been secretly pleased that she could match her sister-in-law in endurance.

Banking into one of the invisible jet streams, she let it carry her to soaring speeds. Technically, she could stutter her teleports, but she preferred to be efficient. Preparing the spell while flying also gave her time to look skyward.

Twilight had observed the comet several nights ago through her telescope. At first it was simply a dot out of place in the familiar firmament, but as it grew she had turned from watching to making hasty calculations.

Now that she knew it was harmless, she could appreciate it a little better. A white dot with a misty trail in the sky. It looked pretty in retrospect.

She flew for a while in this quiet contemplation until the silhouette of Canterlot castle showed in the distance. She wouldn’t have minded flying the entire way there, but she did mind keeping Celestia waiting.

A moment of squinting allowed her to pick out the tower marked with the crescent moon. She let the readied teleport spell loose and the rush of immaterialism take her forward. The shock of the sudden stop at the other end sent her careening into an aerial tumble.

She swallowed her panic and righted herself with a bank and spiral like Rainbow had taught her, though her dinner made flipflops in her belly from the abrupt maneuver.

“What th—oh right.” She’d meant to appear at the castle, but the teleport instead dumped her at the city’s limits. The redirection magic had a certain familiarity about it. That was her brother’s work in action. She vaguely remembered getting a letter about it, though she’d buried it under her latest worry in-the-sky.

A pair of dark shapes flew from the courtyard and approached Twilight. Keeping on her flight, she tipped her body to show off her flanks. Smoothly, the thestrals adjusted their flight path from an interception course to an escort formation without so much as an inquisitive word.

The guards returned to their patrol when she descended to the balcony, coming to land just a few hoofsteps away from Celestia, who rested beside a table.

“I see you’ve been practicing your flying,” said Celestia. “That flip and spiral was very energetic.” Her tone kept placid, like she so often spoke with.

Twilight couldn’t help the embarrassed flush. “Oh, that... umm... I was testing the wards?”

“Mm hmm. I wondered why you hurled yourself here instead of answering the letter first. Otherwise, I’d turned them off for you.”

Twilight waffled between replies, then nose scrunched when she saw Celestia’s lip quirking and that eye twinkle. She was teasing her!

“Since you were in such a hurry to come to me, I think you ought not to stay away any longer. Come now.” Celestia patted the empty cushion beside her. “I have some tea and snacks for us, too.” Her tone now changed to a playful one with a musical lilt.

Twilight gratefully took the offered spot. Her stomach still felt restless from her aerial tumble, and tea sounded like a good remedy. She set about pouring herself a cup and discreetly began adding sugars. How much was too much? She dropped a few cubes, waited, dropped some more. Waited again. It wasn’t until she was tasting sugar with tea in it did she realize the quiet from Celestia.

A glance over showed Celestia lost in thought as she studied the sky. She was without her usual trappings of office: No tiara, necklace, or golden hoof shoes. Even the multicolored mane seemed dim and ordinary by moonlight.

Before Twilight could catch herself for staring, she spotted a glistening spot of wetness at the corner of Celestia’s eye not hidden by her mane.

A tear? Twilight was suddenly seized by the memory of the only other time she ever saw Celestia crying: It was when seeing Luna as a filly after being harmonized by the elements.

She couldn’t help herself and blurted out, “Princess? Is there is something wrong? Is it Luna? Is she okay? Has something happened?”

Celestia did a double take—another rarity—but soon it was Twilight’s turn to be surprised at the strength of the hug Celestia gave her.

“Not at all, Twilight. Not in the slightest. Relax. You deserve a night off from being a heroine.” Twilight felt Celestia’s nose push through her bangs to give a doting kiss beside her horn. “Forgive an old mare for growing sentimental. I was crying for you, my sparkle star. A happy tear.”

“For me?” asked Twilight while she wrestled with the feelings that bubbled up within her. Velvet would always be her mother, but Celestia nearly matched as a parental figure. A literal godmother. The punny thought tickled Twilight into giggling as she replied, “Also, old mare? You don’t look a day over two hundred.”

Some of that giddiness was the tension bleeding out. Relief and the warm thump of that powerful heart under her cheek made Twilight feel cozy.

“Flatterer,” said Celestia evenly, “and yes, for you.” A bare hoof stroked along Twilight’s neck as she continued, “You’ve done so much for me, Twilight. For my sister and for Equestria. You’ve come such a long, long way— “ She paused then before laughing at her own realization. “Ah! Wait, you’ve heard that song before.”

Twilight nuzzled against Celestia’s chest. “I don’t mind hearing it again. It’s a nice song.” Seeing Celestia with a tiny blush of her own brought another giggle out of Twilight. They didn’t get many moments like this, without worries and able to be free and silly.

Celestia playfully bopped Twilight’s nose with a hoof. “What I mean to say: Is that you have grown into becoming a princess and have done splendidly with your duties. I am so proud of you, Twilight, for how much you have attained. However, there’s still one thing that you have yet to do.” She looked back up again towards the comet.

Twilight followed her gaze. Though her thoughts were already a slight mix of excitement and trepidation. This sounded like a test. She sat up. “What do you want me to do, princess?”

Tests were always a source of an anxiety for Twilight, but their numbers gave her a concrete way to show progress. She missed them as she hadn’t had a pen and paper exam since becoming a princess.

Having that score always be perfect helped.

“We wish for you to move the comet into orbit.” The voice startled Twilight as Luna’s approach had been silent.

While not as imposing of a presence physically as her solar sister, Luna stepping out from the shadows to the shine of the moonlight made that starfield mane have dizzying depths.

So surprised by the appearance that the weight of Luna’s words didn’t sink in until a moment later. “Wait... what?” Twilight asked.

Luna looked over to Celestia with a brow arched. Celestia rustled her wings and shifted in place before answering, “I am trying to ease her into the idea.”

“You want me to move something that’s probably dozens of miles long from hundreds of thousands of miles away?” Twilight tried to keep her voice level while ignoring the growing pit in her stomach.

Luna inclined her head. “‘Tis something you are more than capable of. The sun and moon are magnitudes larger than a comet. Surely you must remember when you did that very deed in our place...” she paused again and looked over at Celestia.

Celestia picked up the conversational thread on the other side of Twilight. “There are practical reasons. Mariners have needed a guiding star and better predictability of the tides for ages. Making the comet be that predictable part also makes it safer.” She then added with a nudge to Twilight’s shoulder. “That said, it’s mainly recognition for you and all your efforts. Something more substantial than another stained glass window?” She winked.

Twilight slouched her head into her forehooves. The praise from the two made her dizzy. “I’m honored, but shouldn’t Cadance receive this before me? She’s been an alicorn for much longer.”

Luna cleared her throat. “Your sister’s talents are better in other areas—”

“—and Cadance has her hooves full with a natural born alicorn,” continued Celestia. “Unless you’d like to trade her?”

Twilight thought about her explosion prone niece for a long moment before replying, “The comet might be easier to take care of.” She put on a more certain smile for Celestia. The humor helped.

Luna nodded and spoke up. “Worry not, Twilight. Should your attempt at controlling the comet fail, you will have several centuries of preparation to try again.”

Twilight’s smile faltered. That didn’t sound like a joke.

---

Living in Twilight’s castle was a lot like being at a university, with each day structured with a lesson plan from Twilight or assignment with Spike. This morning for Starlight Glimmer started differently. No outlined classes or coursework, just a scribbled note that said ‘Bring Coffee’. Spike filled her in on the rough details.

Starlight found Twilight in the observatory with her mane unkempt and a blackboard filled with diagrams.

“I brought you your coff—” Starlight began before the magic holding the coffee pot swiftly changed to deep purple and zoomed the pot over to the cups on the table.

Twilight took a long drink, eyes closing in reverence.

Starlight fidgeted in place. “Soooo... they want you to move something how big from how far away?”

A couple minutes and a few long gulps passed before Twilight took proper notice of Starlight or the question. “Dozens of miles and hundreds of thousands of miles.”

Starlight considered. “Okay, you’ve moved the sun and moon before, right? Going to do that again, huh?” She flinched at Twilight’s poisonous look.

“Once. I did it once. And that was with the power of three princesses. You might remember how that went. Everypony does,” Twilight grumbled.

Starlight rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. The day the sun and moon took a careening figure-eight path through the sky did have a certain lingering, country-wide infamy.

“You’d think they would remember you beating the bad guy more,” said Starlight after a pause.

Twilight stuck out her tongue. “Something I have learned as a princess is that ponies only remember your heroism when a monster first shows up. Every other time you get plastered across tabloids for enjoying a hayburger or doing a little dancing. Why can’t they ever forget the bad parts?”

“Must be terrible. Being remembered for all that, and not like… enslaving a town of ponies.”

Twilight blinked and looked sheepish. “Sorry. I know others have worse reputations.” She shook her head. “Just this problem has me tied up in knots. They’re expecting me to do something incredible, and unless I can figure it out, it’s going to be incredible alright! An incredible crater in the ground!” She dropped her head against the desk in a slump, unsettling a few of the scrolls and rattling the cups.

Starlight caught the objects with her magic before any could fall, and approached Twilight. Hesitantly, she reached with a hoof and placed it on the Twilight’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure the princesses wouldn’t let that happen. But why not ask for help?” Comforting ponies was still a new thing for Starlight, but this was a situation she could sympathize with.

“If you’d only heard them. They went on and on about how proud they were of me and how great I am.” Twilight put on an imitation of Celestia’s signature tones. “‘Oh worry not, Luna. Twilight is ready for any challenge put to her’ Ugh! Easy for them to say! They do it every day and night.”

“Yeah. Almost like... trying to learn something that everypony else sees as natural... kinda leaves you feeling frustrated and alone,” Starlight agreed.

Twilight lifted her head and looked at the hoof on her shoulder. She made a wane smile. “Expressive Sympathy. That’s an A plus for you, Starlight. If there are any ponies left after I crash the comet, we can go for ice cream.”

Starlight bumped her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “Oh, come off it! Save the melodrama for those of us who can make villainous speeches. Besides, you still need to learn how to move the comet before you can crash it.”

Twilight snorted. “Okay. Maybe the hole will be in my pride instead of Equestria. I still don’t want to disappoint them. The answer has to be around here somewhere. I just have to find it.”

“I’ll help you!” said Starlight with a growing grin. “If any ponies can figure this out, it’s us. It’s magic, after all! We can actually put our horns together for this one.”

---

The spirited start was promising. Starlight’s talent at self-levitation proved to have potential. It was a trick she had come up with by blending telekinesis with density alteration. “So you aren’t really lifting yourself up as much as pushing yourself off the air.” Starlight had explained.

Twilight thought it was a useful weave of magic. Flying with wings was still superior, but it could soften a hard landing.

Next came a field trip to the nearby hillside where they experimented with changing the density of different sized stones and rocks. Early results were promising and had several stones in the quarry floating and bobbing along like party balloons. Twilight barely needed to nudge them along with her telekinesis and with the self-propelling nature she could have one orbit another.

However, when they tried to apply it to the larger boulders, there seemed to be a hard limit of how much they could twiddle with the spell before they crumbled and cracked.

Afterwards, they took a break over at Sugar Cube Corner while trying to come up with an explanation over dessert.

“Well, of course they broke up!”

“Huh?” Twilight and Starlight said together. Evidently Pinkie had been listening in.

“All the rocks around here are sedimentary, silly mares! That means they’re layers and layers of all sorts of different stuff put together! Doing all your magical whoozitwatzit puts stress all along where they’re joined making them spread apart. Like blam!” She gleefully struck one of the pies on the table, sending up a shower of crust and filling every which way.

Through the cream and fruit facial she wore, Pinkie went on. “The only thing these rocks around here are good for are rock candy, really.”

Starlight blinked away some frosting. “Wait... your rock candy is made of actual rocks?” she asked with sudden alarm.

Twilight had a different concern. “What if it wasn’t sedimentary, Pinkie? We were using the rocks around here for practice.”

Pinkie Pie waggled a hoof decorated with filling as she explained, “Nope! Wouldn’t work on a comet either! They’re big bundles of water and ice with a core of stone. If anything, it’ll even be worse! Changing the water will make it crack right open like a big egg. We call that fracking back on the farm.”

Twilight stared for a good minute before sharing a glance with Starlight. “I... that makes sense. I guess I should have asked you... sooner?” Her mouth made the words, but her rational half screamed at her internally, as was so often the case around Pinkie.

Pinkie Pie gigglesnorted at Twilight’s expression. “Doncha know some of the best rocks on the farm fall from the sky? Maud could give you the whole history of why we Pies picked that quarry in particular—”

She then gasped and put her hooves on either side of Twilight’s cheeks. “We. Could. Have. A. HISTORY. PARTY!” She squeezed in time with her words for emphasis.

Eventually, Twilight and Starlight disentangled themselves with a vague promise at some future date to have a party. Twilight would have liked to talk further about the rock parts, but once Pinkie got a party on the mind all conversation with her became party planning. It was only after having them both mime putting cupcakes in their eyes would she let them go at all.

Neither Starlight nor Twilight were feeling too festive after the day’s revelations. They might have categorically improved telekinesis but it was only incidental to the actual problem. The pile of coffee cups in Twilight’s study grew taller while the sky outside grew darker.

---

Starlight Glimmer rubbed her temples before exhaling. “Well, it has to be more than reaching out with your horn and lifting it. It’s just too massive. You’re more likely to fling yourself at it than the other way around. Are you sure that was what you did before?”

“I’ve thought back to that moment a dozen times already. Maybe Celestia gave me a spell when she lent me her power, but it wasn’t something I consciously did. I knew I had to move the sun and moon so it just... happened,” replied Twilight with a sigh, “and before you ask, yes, I’ve tried pointing my horn at the comet and wishing really really hard.”

“Could be worse. That could have worked, and you’d still have no idea how you did it.” Starlight pointed out before glancing out the window. “Hey speaking of the comet, there it is now. Has it really been an entire day?” After taking a fresh look around the observatory and the piles of work around them, Starlight yawned. “Maybe we should sleep on this. You did say you had a whole week before it went by.”

Twilight raised the coffee carafe and gave it a shake. “Not anymore. I only have six days now and then something like seven hundred years after.” She tried lifting some of her books from the table, but her concentration flickered and a few of them fell.

Starlight nabbed the tumbling tomes with her magic before they could hit the floor and floated them back to the table. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to play catch around the shaky princess. “Speaking of which. Have you slept like at all?”

Twilight shot her a sullen look. “I can afford to sleep once I figure this problem out. Eighty-six hundred and forty minutes is all I have left!”

Starlight knew how pointless it was to reason with a mare when she was being stubborn about magic. “Well, I’m going to go to bed. I’ll come back in the morning and see if we can make any headway.” She softened her tone. “Don’t keep pushing yourself, or else we’ll have to worry about a princess crashing instead of a comet.”

Twilight made an exasperated noise before replying, “Alright, sure. I’ll get to bed soon. Let me organize my notes first so I don’t waste time tomorrow trying to get to the same spot.” When Starlight was nearly at the door, Twilight called out, “Thank you for your help, Starlight. I appreciate it even if we didn’t get anywhere.”

Starlight blinked uncertainly before smiling back to her. “I owe you a lot for the friendship lessons. Before that, being good at magic was the only thing I had going for me. I’m glad I can give something back and help you when you need it.” She paused as a realization struck her and then laughed. “I bet that’s a friendship lesson too, isn’t it?”

“Number twenty-seven. That’s another A plus for you, Starlight,” said Twilight with a grin.

---

In the observatory’s quiet, Twilight felt the silence grow oppressive. Being in the highest room of the castle, she didn’t even have the nighttime crickets. Everything was the rustle of paper, the creek of the blackboard and the light whick-whack of chalk scribbling across it.

Twilight knew she should have taken Starlight’s advice, but she couldn’t bear to waste any time. She paid for her stubbornness though, having to redo over one formula and fix incorrect variables. In some ways, it was depressing to work on orbital math before actually knowing how she would get the bucking thing in orbit in the first place. At least she could make some headway on a future problem.

This equation gave her extra trouble, and after the third erasure, she groaned, “Ugh. Where are my notes?” Twilight hoofed clumsily through a paper stack.

A loose piece of parchment fluttered out, did a pirouette in the air, and presented itself to her. The paper outlined in shimmering blue. Twilight let out a happy whinny and clapped it between forehooves before her sluggish brain reminded her that her magic was a violet shade.

Luna stood not five hoofsteps away.

“Yuugah!” Twilight cried out and fell on her flanks with wings splayed out in surprise. “P-Princess?!”

“Hello, Twilight.” Luna took a curious glance about. “Is this your observatory? Ah, it must be,” she answered herself after spotting the giant telescope.

While harboring thoughts of investing in an anti-teleporting spell of her own, Twilight collected herself and asked, “What are you doing here?”

Luna’s expression remained perfectly neutral.

Twilight flinched under the look and gave the obvious answer. “You’re here to check up on me.”

The stony features of that dark muzzle softened, Luna’s voice thawing with it. “You have not been sleeping well. I am concerned about your welfare.”

“No, I’m okay! Really. All I need—” Twilight turned towards her monument of coffee-cups only to watch them float away in a blue shimmering bubble.

“Nay, Twilight! That elixir is tempting, but ‘tis no replacement for rest. It will corrupt you as sure as any dark magic.” Luna stepped up beside Twilight to nudge her on the shoulder. “Have you felt overburdened? The comet ‘twas meant to be an honor, not a trial.”

Twilight’s willpower was already frayed, and Luna’s question made it give out completely. She slumped against Luna’s side with an exhausted groan, “I... I don’t know how to do it.” Voicing the thought came easily, but hearing it made her cringe. She buried her face in Luna’s wing, unable to feel anything other than failure at the admission.

Luna stayed steady, and after a while, put her nose over Twilight’s ear. “You are no longer a student, Twilight. You have more than earned our respect and reverence. It will not fade should you ask for help. Nor ‘tis weakness to need help.”

Twilight chuckled. With her stubbornness draining away, all the other emotions were rushing to the surface. “I know I could ask.” She shifted in place before murmuring, “But I would disappoint myself most of all. This is a challenge, and I would hate to beg for the answer. Like some kind of cheater who looks at the back of the book. I’m the bucking Element of Magic for Celestia’s sake!”

Twilight’s eyes widened, and her hooves covered her muzzle. Where had that come from? She shook with shock at what she’d said and who she said it to. Just how tired was she?

Luna looked at her in surprised silence before filling it with a hearty laugh. “I cannot fault you for your spirit. You have ever been a mare to face something head on, mmm?” Luna circled around Twilight and when she returned to the fore she loomed in the shape of Nightmare Moon. She lunged at Twilight, mouth gleaming with fangs.

Twilight having seen this trick enough times during Nightmare Night only giggled as the muzzle chomped the air inches from her nose. “Shining would tell you it’s because I’m a pain in the flank.”

Luna showed a toothy smile before it softened into a genuine one as her features returned to normal. “For a mare who would rather read stories than star in them, you remain one of the bravest.” A flick of midnight mane gave Twilight a light stroke on the cheek. “So much to admire. Very well, I will not take a challenge from you if I can help it.” There was a thoughtful pause before she said, “View my help as akin to giving you pieces to a puzzle. The discovery will remain your own.”

Twilight brightened at the thought of that. “That sits better with me. Let me get my notebook and we can—”

Luna shushed her with a raised hoof to her lips. “Only once you have had a rest and a day to recover. You have been too hard on your body these past few hours. If I am to guide you, you will require stamina.”

Twilight snorted around the hoof and mumbled, “A whole day? But what am I supposed to do until then?”

Luna’s odd expression returned before being edged out by a smile. “Spend the day with your friends. They worry as much as I do when you shut yourself away like this. As for sleeping… certainly you know why I am here?”

“You mean to tell me—” started Twilight before she looked around the room again. There was a quality of fuzziness at the edges of her vision, with objects only coming to detail when she focused on them. “—this entire time?”

“I expect you to be a little sore depending on what position you collapsed in. I will wake you for a short while. Long enough for you to get to a proper bed,” said Luna, “and to have a peaceful rest after.”

Twilight perked when an idea struck her and excitedly asked, “Actually, why can’t we work on things here? I mean, if I’m already asleep, then I don’t need to go to bed at all! I could just be as producti—mhmmf!”

Luna stymied Twilight’s rambling thoughts with a sudden lean forward and a full on kiss. The world became obscured by starry midnight as the Luna’s mane swirled about them and—

Twilight woke abruptly, hooves flailing as she fell back from the desk. I’m blind! Came her first panicked thought until she pulled off the piece of paper stuck to her face. The ink on the parchment smeared by a big blob of of drool. “Eyck! So much for that equation,” she mumbled.

With a hoof, she rubbed at her muzzle still tingly with pins and needles. She must have been resting on her face this entire time. Or Luna was a better kisser than she let on.

“A princess waking a princess with a kiss. Real funny, Luna!” said Twilight to nopony in particular.

Despite how little progress she’d made, Twilight felt a sense of calm. She could always rely on her friends before. Things would be better on the morrow.

Comments

[Geminii]

I like it. Great story, nice hook with a fairly logical premise that fits the canon well, and all the characters seem to be in-character.

[One editing note: "its" vs "it's" - there's no apostrophe when it's used in the possessive sense. His, hers, theirs, its - none of them have the apostrophe. The version with the apostrophe is a contraction of "it is" or "it was", as in he's (he is), she's (she is), they're (they are), it's (it is).]

[Fylifa]

8114858

Gah! Embarrassing! I swear I've listened to Word Crimes enough times to know the difference!

Should be corrected now. Thanks for the encouraging words! Glad you like.

[OmniFox]

It could be worse.

[TheLastBrunnenG]

This is a challenge and I would hate to just to just get the answer.

"to just" repeated.

Twilight and Starlight discussing how to move a comet:
cdn.meme.am/cache/instances/folder335/500x/54952335/star-trek-q-just-change-the-gravitational-constant-of-the-universe.jpg

[Mystic Sunrise]

Plus, a bet? Was she really that predictable?

YES!

Me damm it.

[BlueMoonHarlot]

Luna stymied Twilight’s rambling thoughts with a sudden lean forward and a full on kiss. The world became obscured by starry midnight as the Luna’s mane swirled about them and—

lookit those movessss

[tsaukpaetra]

Hehe, part wondering if Luna was just being creative in her teasing or...