Week of December 18
“Am I being completely ridiculous?”
Strawberry Sunrise smirked with a self-contained glee. “You mean always?” she asked. “Or just right now?”
“Straaaaawbs,” Redheart moaned. Her face glowed a bright pink, equal parts embarrassment and bitter cold. “I really like this mare!”
“Well, duh!” Strawberry gave Redheart a friendly punch in the shoulder. “I hope so! Otherwise you should just break up already!”
Redheart groaned. “It is so hard to shop for Blossomforth,” she complained. “She’s such a goody four-hooves. All she does is go for runs and eat salad. And read.”
“Get her a book, then,” Strawberry suggested.
“But what if she doesn’t like it?”
“So ask her what book she wants.”
“But what if she wants her Hearth’s Warming gift to be a surprise?”
“So get her a book you like.”
“But—”
“Red.” Strawberry grabbed her friend by the shoulders. “She’s not going to break up with you over a kinda-crappy Hearth’s Warming gift! She likes you for a reason, and it isn’t because you buy her stuff. Just get her your favorite book. She’ll love it because she loves you.”
Redheart rolled her eyes, but Strawberry couldn’t help but notice the tiny smile she buried in her scarf.
“Actually, scratch that: your favorite book is probably something weird,” Strawberry teased. “Like The Equestrian Guide to Medicine. Or Lamblet.”
“That’s a play, Strawb,” Redheart said, snickering.
“And it would be a really weird gift, right?” Strawberry giggled to herself. “Doesn’t the marefriend die in that one? That might be considered a threat, actually.”
Redheart snorted in laughter and gently hip-checked her friend. Strawberry stumbled a few steps, kicking up snow and giggling in foalish glee.
Snow had finally come to Ponyville after the longest summer of Strawberry’s life and an autumn that had sunk its claws in deep and held on with all it had. Most townsfolk chalked it up to waning participation in the annual running of the leaves, but Strawberry knew the truth: Dust Devil had misinterpreted a few key instructions from her supervisor and held off the first major winter storm of the season. As a result, she had been transferred to another department. This came with a small dock in pay—one approximately equivalent to the bonus she’d wished for back in May. She was, however, much safer there. Less head-first storm diving, and more paperwork. So it goes.
Most of the wishes had petered off with the end of the strawberry harvest. Redheart and Blossomforth, for example, hit a rocky patch towards the end of July, but Redheart had really put herself out there—more than she ever would have dared with ponies in the past—and they had reunited amicably. They had been happily inseparable ever since.
Strawberry wouldn’t admit it—at least not directly—but she actually found the whole thing sort of cute.
“Alright, I give in: what is your favorite book?” Strawberry asked.
Redheart chuckled. “You’ll laugh.”
Strawberry scoffed. “Well, sure I will. That shouldn’t stop you from telling me.”
Redheart made a small, choked sound as she tried to hold back a laugh. “Riverbank.”
“Ugh!” Strawberry stuck out her tongue. “That terrible Kelpie romance crap?! It doesn’t even make sense—Kelpies don’t live in rivers!”
“But it’s so much fun! And the Kelpie love interest? Freya?” She sighed wistfully, verging on the pornographic. “All those teenagers are right: the mysterious loner thing is to die for. She would drag me to the bottom of that river so fast.”
“That’s perfect, actually,” Strawberry said. “And it’ll make a great inscription for your marefriend. Do you think I’ll be able to accurately transcribe your weird moan?”
“Shut up!” Redheart said, though her obvious laughter.
“Never!” Strawberry retorted. “Now can we hurry up and buy something? We’re gonna be late if you spend any more time waffling.”
“Agh, you know I don’t do well under pressure!” Redheart said, skittering up to the next window display.
Strawberry shook her head. “How did they ever let you into nursing?”
“Other kinds of pressure.”
“Oh, sure. Just other kinds.” Strawberry sidled up to Redheart at the window and peered inside. She had to shield the window with one hoof and squint to make out anything at all. “I’m pretty sure this one’s closed, Red. Why don’t we just go back to the bookstore?”
“But I—”
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but it is actually the thought that counts,” Strawberry said. “Not every present can be the perfect present. Sometimes you just give someone something to show you care.”
Redheart hung her head. “I know…”
“She’s not going to judge you or your present,” Strawberry went on.
“I know…” Redheart repeated, dropping another tone and a half. “I just… I really want it to be the perfect present.”
Strawberry heaved a great sigh. “Alright. Fine,” she said. “How about I go out with you tomorrow and we try again?”
Redheart perked right up and flicked her tail. “You’d do that?”
Strawberry pretended to mull it over for a moment. “Eh, sure. But you’ll owe me a coffee.”
“Deal.”
“The fun kind. With marshmallows and peppermint sticks.”
Redheart giggled. “Whatever you want, Strawbs.”
“Great. Now can we please get to the theater?” Strawberry said, pointing down the street in its direction. “If we get stuck with crappy seats to this thing, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Oh, pfft.” Redheart scoffed and waved her hoof dismissively. “Fids won’t care.”
“Yeah, she won’t,” Strawberry agreed. “Lightning Dust, on the other hoof…”
“Are you kidding me?” Lightning Dust hissed. “Five minutes to spare? Are you trying to piss me off?”
“And a happy Hearth’s Warming to you, Dusty,” Redheart said with a mock winter cheer. She even reached out to give her begrudging friend a condescending pat on the head.
Lightning batted the hoof away with perhaps a tick too much ferocity. “Don’t call me Dusty, Red,” she corrected in a snarl. “And please, for the love of all that’s pony, tell me you have your tickets.”
Strawberry whipped the set of tickets out of her saddlebag and flashed them at Lightning. “Ta-da! That’s me, Red, and Blossom.” She demonstrated, pointing to each ticket. “Have a little faith.”
Lightning sneered. “I’ll try.”
Strawberry stuck her tongue out at her.
Lightning hesitated, weighing her options, then returned the stuck-out tongue—if a bit more pointed. And violent. Regardless, Strawberry counted this as a win.
Like the other wishes, Lightning’s attitude adjustment had slowly ebbed away until she was back to her old self—at least as far as Strawberry could tell. She was brash, rude, and a bit egotistic, despite her somewhat impossible charm and charisma. A lot of that came flying out of her mouth with little to no filter.
But the filter was growing in. Strawberry privately thought of it as teething; it was a painful thing to grow, and the effort of it could sometimes cause her to lash out in and of itself, but the effort was there. And, Celestia, was she a lot more fun now.
Most of the time, that is. At the moment, her concern with fighting the demonstrably non-overwhelming crowds to get the best seat for a decidedly non-visual performance was tamping down any fun she might be capable of having.
Redheart and Strawberry trailed right behind her as she parted the seas and led them into the theater.
It was a small-ish place. A Ponyville place. It had all the grandness and prestige of the restaurant your parents took you to for your cutecinera—fake nice, but real enough to feel like it when you had blinders on. And boy did Lightning have blinders on.
“The two of you should count your lucky stars there’s still seats up close,” Lightning scolded.
“Oh, sure,” Strawberry agreed. “Wouldn’t want to miss an important note sitting behind some pillar.”
Lightning’s head whipped around to shoot Strawberry a menacing glare, but she quickly went back to wing-punching concert-goers out of her way in a quest to get to the front rows.
“Actually, would you guys mind staking out my seat?” Redheart asked. “I think I was supposed to meet Blossom in the lobby.”
“Sure, fine, whatever,” Lightning agreed. “She better be here soon!”
Redheart flashed Lightning an easy-going smile and turned to fight her way back up the aisle.
Lightning Dust, unfazed, gave one last pony one last shove and finally arrived at what she seemed to believe were at best possible seats. After a quick check of their view, she plopped herself down into the red-velvet fold-out chair and gestured for Strawberry to sit beside her. Strawberry squeezed in as gracefully as she could manage and deflated into her own chair.
“How was Fiddle feeling when you dropped her off?” Strawberry asked.
“Nervous.”
“Any more nervous than you?” she said with a giggle.
Lightning glared at her. “Hilarious.”
Strawberry sighed softly, then reached over to give her friend a pat on the shoulder. At first, Lightning bristled at the touch, but she quickly relaxed into it. “You’re doing really good.”
“Ugh.” Lightning rolled her eyes. “It’s not about me.”
Strawberry shrugged. “It can be a little about you.”
Lightning grunted.
Strawberry said nothing. She gave her friend another gentle pat.
Lightning sighed. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome!” Strawberry beamed.
“Sorry about the, uh… drill sergeant-ness,” she muttered.
“Well, I forgive you.”
“I just want to make sure she sees us,” Lightning explained. “And—I mean, would it kill more ponies to show up to this thing? I wanted her to have a packed theater! Packed!”
Strawberry chuckled. “Maybe it’s better if she starts small?”
Lightning folded her forelegs over her chest and sank even lower in her seat. “Whatever. Stupid Ponyville theater and their stupid tiny shows.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Lightning sniffed. “Did I tell you Octavia bailed?”
“Ugh. No.”
“Some bullcrap excuse about weather and travel times,” Lightning grumbled. “She literally lives in town. Fiddle deserves—”
She just barely caught herself.
Lightning cleared her throat. “Fiddle’s been putting in a lot of effort to reconnect,” she said, her tone suddenly a lot more even. “I would have thought Octavia would… I dunno. Try.”
Strawberry sighed. “It’s hard.”
Lightning sighed, too. A forlorn echo of Strawberry’s. “Yeah.”
“We’re back!”
Strawberry looked up in time to see Redheart skittering back down the aisle, Blossomforth in tow.
“Hey, Blossom!” Strawberry waved.
Blossom smiled. “What’s up, guys?”
Strawberry shrugged. “Same old, same old,” she said.
Blossomforth was, in a word, flexible. She was, of course, physically flexible—this was why she was always in urgent care having some sort of sprain, strain, or dislocation taken care of—but this extended to her personality, as well. She was an easy-breezy, roll-with-the-punches sort of mare; exactly the type that Redheart, or really any nurse, needed to balance out her perpetual manic episode.
This is to say, of course, that Blossomforth (a) seemed not at all bothered by the whirlwind insanity of the evening’s plans, and (b) easily and gracefully stepped over both Strawberry and Lightning to reach an empty seat, without even spilling a single kernel of the popcorn she was holding.
Strawberry turned to Blossomforth. “Say, what’s your favorite book?” she asked. “Lightning and I were just chatting about our favorite books.”
Redheart’s face went stony as she tried to communicate, without words or facial expressions, that this was a bad idea.
“Um…” Blossom tapped her chin with one hoof. “Gee, that’s a tough one. Are you looking for a recommendation, or are we talking junk food reading?”
“Good question, good question,” Strawberry said. “Let’s hear the junk food option.”
“Oh, well that’s easy: I love the Riverbank series,” Blossom said, one hoof on her chest. “You can pry those from my cold, dead hooves.”
Redheart’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me.”
Blossomforth shook her head. “Nope! Tease me if you must, but I love a good monster romance.”
“You are literally my dream mare,” Redheart said as she grabbed Blossom’s face in both hooves and drew her in for a kiss.
Strawberry looked over at Lightning. “All in a day’s work.”
“What the hay’s Riverbank?” Lightning asked.
Strawberry blinked. “Can I just ask: how’s the rent under that rock? Is it cheap?”
Lightning opened her mouth to shoot back a retort, but was cut off by the a sudden outburst of crazy giggling from behind them.
“Good one, Strawbs!”
Strawberry turned to look over her shoulder in just enough time for Dust Devil to clap her aggressively on the shoulder.
“So crazy to see you guys here!” Dust said, beaming. “I usually go to these sorts of things myself.”
Strawberry scowled. “Um. What are you doing here?”
Dust Devil gestured to the stage. “Appreciating a little classical music,” she said nonchalantly. “Why—what are you doing here?”
Strawberry supposed all that time in tornadoes had more of an effect on Dust Devil’s brain than she had even thought. She very nearly replied, ready to really dig into this new Dust, but the gentle one-two strobe of the house lights cut her off.
Lightning Dust grabbed at her friends and shushed with as much gusto as she could manage.
Another one-two blink. The house lights switched off, and the stage lights kicked on, illuminating many, many rows of black folding chairs. After a moment, ponies began to file in from both sides, and the audience applauded their arrival.
It wasn’t hard to spot Fiddlesticks among the many members of the orchestra; she had insisted on wearing something on her head, and the conductor—clearly not willing to put up much of a fight—had approved a simple black bandana. Though it was hardly formal wear, Fiddlesticks marched out with her head held high and took her seat with the other string players.
Lightning just barely managed to hold back shouting her name, but did wave one foreleg rather aggressively in the hopes that Fiddle would see her.
She did.
Fiddle’s face split open into an excited grin as she surveyed the four ponies in the audience for her. She waved her bow in response, as gently as she could.
The conductor raised his baton in a flourish of blue magic, sent some unknown signal to the orchestra to raise their instruments, and cued the music with what could only be described as barely-contained panache.
The concert itself was simple, straightforward, and unsurprising. The orchestra played a medley of holiday music that the audience seemed to enjoy. All of it, of course, had been heard day and night without reprieve in Lightning and Fiddle’s shared apartment—meaning that even Strawberry, who had never so much as touched a violin, probably could have muddled her way through the show.
But the music was the least important part. Lightning stayed completely riveted on Fiddle’s face through the entire performance, a sort of wonder in her eyes that Strawberry couldn’t have possibly described. She was the first to applaud each piece at its conclusion, even if she was humming along to every note. She sat practically on the edge of her seat.
When the final chord rang out through the theater, and the conductor turned to bow to the audience, Lightning Dust wasted no time in shooting to her hooves and pounding them on the linoleum as hard as she could, whooping and hollering.
Others quickly followed suit.
The conductor seemed overwhelmed, but smiled and bowed again, then gestured for the orchestra to rise and bow along with him.
Fiddlesticks was up out of her chair so fast she nearly kicked it into the horn player behind her.
“There’s my filly!” Lightning shouted as she ran to embrace Fiddlesticks.
Fiddle, for her part, took a flying leap into Lightning’s waiting forelegs, and the two of them stumbled through the lobby squealing and laughing.
Strawberry sighed and shook her head. “Gross.”
“Tsk, don’t be like that,” Redhart said, giving her friend a strong nudge in the ribs.
“Um, I totally reserve the right to be like that,” Strawberry said. “I’m the one who matched them up! And you two!”
Blossomforth giggled. “Oh, here we go…”
“And yet I remain a sad, rejected maid,” Strawberry lamented. “All those wishes, and not one success for poor, old, miserable, old Strawberry Sunrise.”
“You’re twenty-seven, Strawberry,” Redheart pointed out, rolling her eyes.
Strawberry sighed wistfully. “Yes. Ancient,” she bemoaned. “I can only hope I’ll survive to next strawberry season, when I might finally make the perfect wish on the perfect pint of perfect strawberries and find true love…”
“So you finally admit it?” Redheart asked. “The strawberries did grant wishes?”
“Hmph. I admit no such thing,” Strawberry said, turning her snout in the air. “I’ve still yet to find any hard proof that they did anything whatsoever, honestly.”
“Ugh.” Redheart shook her head. “You have got to be the most stubborn, pig-headed pony I’ve ever known.”
Strawberry clicked her tongue. “You betcha!” She agreed, grinning devilishly. “Face it: you have just as much proof that that bag of popcorn grants wishes as the strawberries.”
She pointed to the nearly-empty paper bag in Blossomforth’s hoof.
Blossom looked down into the bag, sizing up the remaining serving. She traded a quick and inscrutable look with Redheart before shoving the bag into Starwberry’s hooves.
“Alright, then” she said. “Make a wish.”
Strawberry arched a brow. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” Blossom said. “Do it for real. And make it a good one.”
Strawberry rolled her eyes. “What constitutes a ‘good one’?”
Blossom shrugged. “I think only you know that.”
Strawberry held back the snark fighting to the surface and peered down into the paper bag.
Three lonely popcorn kernels remained at the bottom. They looked perfectly good, even if they were kettle corn, which Strawberry deeply despised. She briefly considered using this as an excuse to get out of the little game, but realized that such a cop-out would brand her the target of teasing by the group for some years to come.
She shook the bag gently. The kernels rattled about a bit, making soft impact sounds against the taut brown paper.
Strawberry bit her lip.
She did have a wish.
Better than a wish, she had words for it:
She wished to be Strawberry Sunrise.
She wished to be the pony everyone liked. The pony every loved. The home gardener with the incredible strawberries.
She wished to live up to her name. Now and forever.
And, in a way, it felt like too much to wish for.
At the same time, though…
Strawberry closed her eyes.
She didn’t wish in words. She wished on a feeling—both exceedingly simple and devastatingly complex.
She wished for the sweetness of strawberries and warmth of the sun. For bouts of laughter over inside jokes. For group hugs and reaching out to one another through crowds. For holiday cheer, all through the year.
With the feeling firmly in her mind and heart, she upended the paper bag over her mouth and let the popcorn tumble in. It hit her tongue, sweet and dry, and stuck there like little bits of styrofoam. She quickly chewed and swallowed both pieces, though she wasn’t fast enough to keep the taste from lingering.
“Ah,” she exclaimed, crumpling the bag up and tossing it into a nearby trash can. “There. Wishing complete.”
“What’d you wish for?” Redheart asked.
“Tsk. Can’t say,” Strawberry replied, shaking her head. “That’s against the rules.”
“It is not against the—”
“Hey!”
Strawberry bristled at the sudden touch and her shoulder and turned to see Lightning Dust standing behind her, Fiddlesticks on her arm.
“Uh, hey!” Strawberry shook off the strange feeling the popcorn had left her with and painted on a smile. “Congratulations, Fiddle! You were amazing!”
Fiddle smiled demurely. “Aw, shucks. That’s awful sweet of you to say,” she said.
“Well, keep in mind I know nothing about music,” Strawberry reminded her quickly. “Take all compliments with a grain of salt.”
Fiddlesticks giggled.
Lightning rolled her eyes, but smiled in appreciation. “We’re going out to eat,” she said. “You guys wanna come with?”
Strawberry opened her mouth to reply, but Redheart cut in before she had a chance.
“Ooh, ooh! I just heard about this new crepe place that opened up!” Redheart did a little hop in place. “We should go there!”
Lightning looked to Fiddlesticks, who only shrugged in a post-adrenaline bliss.
“Yeah, sounds good. What’s the place called?” Lightning asked.
Redheart opened her mouth to reply, then frowned. “I don’t remember.”
Lightning chuckled. “Okay, where is it?”
“Um…” Redheart pouted. “I… don’t remember.”
“Hon…” Blossomforth shook her head, smirked at her scatterbrained marefriend.
“Well, how are we supposed to get there if you don’t know what it is or what it’s called?” Lightning growled.
Fiddle gave Lightning a soothing pat on the shoulder. “Oh, it don’t matter, Light,” she said softly. Strawberry swore she could see the fire in Lightning’s eyes extinguish. “Why don’t we just walk around town and see what finds us?”
Blossom smiled. “I like your style, Fids,” she said. “Just see where the night takes us.”
The two pairs of ponies, locked tightly together, looked at Strawberry expectantly.
Strawberry smiled sheepishly. “It’s, um… is it okay if I fifth-wheel you guys?”
“Don’t be dumb, Dumbrise,” Lightning said, throwing a leg around Strawberry and guiding her towards the door. “You said it: you paired us up. You’re an automatic invite on all double dates.”
As the group of mares stepped out into the bitter cold, Strawberry found herself surprisingly warm. Lightning hugged her close to her left side, Redheart to her right, as they tromped through the snow and down the street.
None of them could be entirely sure where they were headed. In all honesty, Strawberry didn’t particularly care.
In fact, as Strawberry breathed in the warmth of the friendship that surrounded her, she realized that her kettle-corn wish could not have been granted—but only because she had already made it true.
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really cute story!! loved the character work here
11538141
Thank you! It's honestly really fun to write about ponies with mean and nasty streaks like Strawberry... I'll have to do it more often!
loved this
Aww, this was a fun little journey of self-discovery. Were the berries actually magic? The world may never know.
This was a wonderful read! Thank you so much for making this!
So, overall, a very good story - good character stuff for the most part and a nice bit of ambiguity with the whole wish thing - it could have been magic, unremarkable coincidence or some Dirk Gently-style cause-and-effect tangle.
My one criticism is that the condemnation for what Strawberry initially said to Lightning Dust felt... really off. Like she gets crucified for... what, exactly? Sassing her about things she definitely did that were terrible? That's... really not all that uncalled for. And it's not like Lightning Dust acted remotely contrite after it was brought up. She got her hackles raised and shot back - not an unreasonable reaction (except for the part where she actually defended nearly killing a child, which... really didn't help her case), but also a good reason to think she wasn't exactly aching for redemption.
And Fiddlesticks raked Strawberry over the coals for... as far as I can tell, not thinking Lightning was trying to be better when she was given no reason to think she was and plenty of reason to think she wasn't. "Did you ask?" Well, no, because not only is "Hey, are you not a bad guy anymore?" a question there's no real way to ask in normal conversation, but there was no reason to ask because Lightning had given no indication it might be the case. But, no, apparently, Strawberry should have just assumed she was probably repentant and trying to be better and make amends. But given how Lightning acted, plus what she'd done in the show and how little of a s**t she was shown to give at the time... yeah, I really can't blame Strawberry for playing the odds on that one.
Mind you, it doesn't help that, well, we're told Lightning Dust is making amends and trying to make up for her actions, but we're never shown it. Now, normally that wouldn't be a problem, since that's not what the story is about, but if a major part of the story is excoriating someone for not acknowledging her redemption, it rings a bit hollow if all we know about the major parts of said redemption is "Trust me, she's doing it." And trying to equate Strawberry's and Lightning's behaviour... equating being just generally obnoxious to actively and remorselessly endangering lives... really feels weird.
I really do apologize that this comment is coming across so negative - I really did enjoy the story for the most part. It's just that aspect... bugged me more than it probably should.
11538624
Fair criticism, to which I'd reply that this story is built on a singular theme: what do we deserve?
Many of the conversations that take place in the fic are meant to demonstrate how different characters might have different opinions on this question. For example, in the conversation Fids, Red, and Strawberry have about Lightning Dust, I was trying to show how each character has very different feelings on what Lightning deserves. Fiddle, who knows her more personally, is aware that Lightning is trying to do better, and so doesn't think she deserves the harsh treatment (the "did you ask" specifically is meant to be a ridiculous question - you wouldn't ask a known alcoholic if they ever went to rehab as an opener, but then you probably wouldn't make fun of them to their face about their alcoholism). Strawberry, who (as we know from the show) can be unnecessarily harsh and exacting, thinks that it's basically open season on everyone, and that she can be as nasty and dismissive to Lightning as she wants. Redheart, beginning to see her friend Strawberry in a new light, is uncertain what could be considered deserved and what is going too far. None of these are meant to be right, only what the characters believe to be right.
The overall idea for the fic is that each character has an axe to grind - both personally and for the others they know. We all, as people, think we know what other people deserve, but rarely turn that same lens on ourselves. I agree that I ask my readers to take some leaps, but I would argue that over-explaining these characters or pushing the conflict further would detract from the internal nature of Strawberry's conflict.
Great story, loved it.
11538699
Okay, that does make a lot of sense and I can definitely see what you mean. And I definitely agree that, even were my criticism somehow inarguable (which it most definitely isn't), it is worth it for the sake of the story.
And, to be honest, while it does still seem a little odd... well, thinking about it, I don't even think the reason for my reaction was largely the fault of you or the story.
Because that perspective of "any given character isn't necessarily supposed to be right or wrong in how they react to and see someone's redemption, just different views and ways of looking at it" is a really, really good one. And I like the idea that some people will be extremely willing to forgive and dismiss any hard feelings and some won't and that neither is necessarily the "correct" way of doing things.
But, well, in order to hopefully not start unpleasant arguments, let's just say that not everyone in this community seems to agree with that. And I've sadly gotten used enough to attacks on people, in stories and out, over such disagreements that it... kinda registered as a false positive. That's largely on me, I'm quite certain, and I apologize, but... yeah.
11539081
No need to apologize whatsoever! I really appreciate hearing about the way you engaged with the work, and I doubly appreciate the chance to revisit some of the choices I made - consciously or unconsciously - while working on this story.
Honestly, the whole concept of judgement and deservingness is just one of those things I've learned in adulthood. Interpersonal drama is hard - harder than "stay in your lane" or "don't judge". I like to think I'm not as loose-lipped as Strawberry, but unless you're really critical with yourself you might not see the effect you have on people. I think that's where this story came from: just dealing with my own interpersonal conflicts as an adult and figuring out where my weak spots are.
And, yes, the sort of fiction where characters behave badly or do wrong things is generally not well-received here :/ strange since the structure of every single episode of the show is "character does wrong thing in interpersonal conflict and learns how to handle it better". I do hope that sort of story becomes a little more common - they're really my favorite to read!!
Aaaaah this was so good! I was expecting zany Ponyville hijinks and instead I got whacked straight in the feels with a wonderful exploration of a one-off character whom I very much liked. Seeing this dysfunctional group of friends come together was such a pleasure.
11538624
I'm happy I'm not the only one who was thinking Dirk Gently ^^
So, went on a hunt for this after stumbling across your blogpost on writing characters who suck (was this the story that pic was referencing? If so, ya gotta include a link to it in your blogpost! For all us weirdos who idly browse peoples' blogs in their lunch break!), and I was amazed at how well you managed to hook me throughout the story. For how little seems to happen on the surface, every character is brimming with personality, quirks and flaws, and you balance the humour and drama incredibly well.
Regarding your blog post, you're spot on really: Strawberry sucks(-rise?) She's crass, she's got an ego to more than cover up her insecurities, and sometimes she's a straight-up bint.
I loved the way you didn't go for the typical, perhaps cliché 'everyone clamours over her fruit' plot progression, and kept things on a smaller scale. The stakes don't ramp up because of what happens, but almost because of how Strawberry perceives her interactions and the effect they have on her. The motif of the sign is a lovely touch since it keeps the viewer grounded in what's actually happening in the story. She's selling slightly-overpriced strawberries for goodness' sake, the world's not exactly ending, yet the more dramatic parts of the story makes it feel like maybe a tiny little corner of Strawbs' world is.
The conflict she goes through when Redheart leaves is a really well-done, introspective piece on someone crashing back down to earth at the revelation that they're a bit horrible, but not wanting to admit it quite yet. And damn, do you ever hammer it home in the penultimate chapter - a character has to be a special kind of suck if Lightning Dust of all ponies is the one who swallows her pride and acts the bigger person.
Seeing her finally realise, and more importantly admit her suck during the climax was a nice bit of catharsis. Similarly, topping it off by having none of the characters really change, at least on the surface, keeps the whole thing consistent and feeling pleasantly real. Everyone's still their typical, brash, sucky selves, just with a bit more nuance and a bit more perspective on each other's feelings. It almost feels like the only thing that's actually changed is Strawberry's perception of herself and her friends. And if that's all it takes for us to value a friendship enough to work on keeping it, isn't that a victory in and of itself?
ahaha love how Redheart actually being in a happy relationship just changed the subject of her conversations with Strawberry and nothing else, that is so true
aww, that is so neat! all the wishes reversing themselves in time but leaving the pony whole in a different way. just like how Strawberry and Redheart’s friendship seems to be back to its old dynamic despite the events of the story as well
Redheart is so real for this
gottem
ehehe love how Lightning Dust is being the supportive marefriend
aww love it
all the same, it is very difficult to imagine Fiddlesticks wearing anything other than her signature hat!
ah the classic fifth wheel! been there, Strawbs
and augh, what a change from the disdainful Strawberry of earlier in the story!
and augh, so true! it was great to see this little slice-of-life of this new group of friends, formed by the connections of strawberry wishes and personal growth. if only Dust Devil could also be here, though at least she is in a better place.
just a wonderful character study of not only Strawberry Sunrise, but her new friends as well, and how they grow as ponies while still being very much themselves. placing Lightning Dust here as a counterpart was such a great choice given just how much their dysfunctions and journeys of growth both mirror and oppose each other. this was such a delight to read, and the ambiguïty of if the strawberries actually grant wishes somehow in this magical world of Equestria, and how the story works perfectly in either interpretation, is just the strawberry on top. and dang the Strawberry sass here was so good! just love to watch her work (at destroying the ponies around her with impeccably crafted verbal cruelty)
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omg thank you so much for your comments!! I had so much fun writing this piece, and you picked up on so many of the little details I left in it - that's just the best feeling! I'm so happy to hear you liked it :)