Rarity was a mare who needed her beauty sleep. A multitude of things helped keep her looking as fresh, stylish, and well-groomed as she did. An excessive amount of grooming, eye for detail, admittedly false lashes, and a bit of product here and there where au naturel simply did not cut it helped make the image Rarity loved to present: a mare as beautiful as she was on the inside, her sapphire eyes sparkling generously.

Beauty sleep was one of those things, too. Perhaps the only must-have that she required in excess. This did not please her wife. Twilight Sparkle stood beside the gold framed bed that they shared, her hoof tapping out a too-orderly meter on the crystalline floor as she ignored her discarded regalia - it consisted of a rather modest crown and set of shoes set aside for all but the most formal of events - so that her focus was devoted solely on her sleepy spouse.

"Rarity," she said. "It's almost seven."

When that brief reminder failed to rouse the slumbering unicorn, Twilight Sparkle frowned a little and watched her lovely wife snuggle deeper into the luxurious sheets, smiling at something in a dream and nuzzling deeper into the pillows as she curled an elegant white foreleg around her closed eyes, hiding where her curly royal purple mane failed to protect those eyes from the sunlight dappling across her, illuminating a form that was more divine than that of her demigoddess wife's.

The morning sunlight failed too, and Twilight muttered a quick, brief complaint to whichever divine might listen. "Rarity, Stellar Streak and Gallant were promised that their mommies would be helping them make pancakes today."

Both of them had promised their two foals - precocious and serious Gallant, their son, and playful Stella, aged eight and four respectively - that they would be have a pancake-filled Saturday breakfast bash to make up for their Uncle Spike being away on business in Canterlot and Stella not being allowed at Carousel Boutique anymore - one too many 'accidents' flying into her mother's dress-forms had left her a walking band-aid collection.

Even if her mommy Twilight had been there to lecture her while mother Rarity fussed, clucked, and kissed every boo-boo until their little pastel orange ball of energy had blinked back every tear like a big girl and Pinkie promised that no, she would not be messing around in there until she was much, much older was everything declared settled.

And then Gallant had gotten a B on a spelling test the same day. Twilight for one had been unable to believe such rotten luck. Her own son, with a B on a spelling test? It was simply unheard of. She'd made sure that such a rotten, rotten Friday was made up for. By Monday, she insisted that Gallant would never get anything lower than an A. Disappointment would almost be gone from his vocabulary - almost because Twilight had insisted that he still be able to spell it, of course.

That is why Twilight Sparkle thought it a perfectly sensible thing to suggest that Rarity help explain all the laws of motion to Stella so she knew why she would keep crashing for years to come until proper flight lessons were brought into the picture and for Gallant to have at least a quarter of the dictionary memorized by Monday. She said this to Rarity while beaming.

Poor Rarity, without a bit of coffee in her system had stared sleepily at her dinner of oatburgers and fries, wishing that Twilight had considered something other than takeout as a proper meal for their children - their children, who may not have had a drop of either Rarity or Twilight's blood in their veins but certainly deserved better than greasy, unwholesome oat burgers as a make up meal for their foalhood woes. Her thoughts had strayed to all foods that were wholesome, and in the moment she sighed loudly while holding a cold hayfry in her magic, she had an epiphany.

Her darling little babies would be having a grand breakfast tomorrow - a breakfast so messy and potentially explosive that they would remember it for at least a month. She was going to get Twilight to help plan a pancake party for the four of them.

Or maybe she had just muttered something about pancakes because she was tired and hungry and her stomach disapproved of her wife's food choices. The rest of the night had been a blur.

And now Twilight was shaking Rarity lightly with her magenta magic and saying her name over and over in a whiny tone that Rarity's sleeping brain dismissed as one of their children who could simply go wake their mommy instead.

"Rarity please! It's almost seven thirty! I have no idea how to make pancakes! For the love of Celestia, pretty please with whipped cream and blueberries on top of your pancakes, please, please, please wake up? I know that you're just pretending again-"

Twilight stopped her frantic plea abruptly and pricked her ears in any direction she thought an echo might be lurking in. She knew that she had heard some kind of sound...

There it was again. She turned her attention down to the bed, where a dainty white forehoof moved, fumbling for a sleeping mask on her nightstand.

"Rarity," Twilight said simply, having caught her wife red-hoofed.

Rarity squeezed her eyes shut as a particularly bright ray of sunshine danced across her eyelids. "Yes, Twilight, darling?"

"You just wanted me to call you 'Princess Rarity' again, didn't you?" Twilight's tone was not accusing. She was too tired to accuse anypony of anything. She had no coffee in her system and had to put up with a drama consort, prince, and princess on a daily basis.

Rarity let out a brief melodic whistle as a plea of innocence before finally opening her dazzling blue eyes, flipping her unbrushed, but ever-luxurious mane across her wither, and leaning forward across the sea of sheets done in varying shades of purple before placing a kiss on Twilight's muzzle. "I might have, dear."

Twilight sighed and returned the gesture quickly, still muttering about all the drama she had to endure.

The dining room was a brutal mess of plates, pancakes, toppings, and magic that had Twilight struggle to control her breathing whenever Gallant and Stella looked away and Rarity reusing the exasperated smile she previously had used for Sweetie Belle's mishaps at a very alarming rate.

A silver unicorn colt with a mane of light green and blue skillfully brushed out of his purple eyes by his mother was digging into a platter of pancakes that had half of the entire sprinkle container spilled on it by 'accident' before Rarity's mischief radar had picked up on the suspicious activity and she witnessed the mess. While cleaning it up she had been extra careful to keep her theatrics in overdrive and her Prancian in literal Prancian. Twilight owned no dictionaries of Prance's language and she knew that Gallant was far more interested in unjust desserts than he was in his mother's colorful language - one that made no sense to him as he put his stealth skills to the test in sneaking an absolutely ungodly amount of sugar in his orange juice.

Twilight was too late to do anything but calculate the exact time to the tummy ache of all tummy aches in Harmony Castle and mentally compose a letter to Gallant's Uncle Shiny about why the hero-tales he told his nephew needed to have more abstract depictions of combat, magic, and anything that might explain why her eight year old son was able to wield a spoon as a weapon.

Once that had died down, Rarity and Twilight returned to their own plates of pancakes. Rarity frowned, somehow recalling she had given herself an extra helping of blueberries and that it almost did look like a few were missing...

She turned to Twilight and pouted, deep sapphire eyes boring into Twilight's purple ones that tried to look anywhere but at Rarity and Rarity's plate. Rarity knew that it was too far into fall for her wife to have sweat collecting under her bangs as she did. That awkward swallow? That shifty gaze? Rarity knew it all too well. She pouted more firmly before abruptly returning her attention to her own pancakes, flipping her mane in disdain for good measure.

Twilight Sparkle swallowed the last of the stolen blueberries as quietly as she could. She had never felt more ashamed. They even tasted like guilt.

Stellar Streak watched the scenes unfolding before her calmly from her end of the table. Her crystal chair dwarfed her small pegasus body and she had to sit on an extra cushion to get a good view of what was happening. From under her almost-royal purple bangs, styled to look like her mommy's dorky bangs, two pale green eyes watched the great crime of blueberry theft and her mother's abhorred expression.

Her complete innocence to the barbaric sights before her caused her to get bored easily by the things she could not understand. One pastel orange hoof reached out and managed to knock blueberry and strawberry syrup containers closer to her while her mommies squabbled over something silly like whether waffles or pancakes were better. She ignored her brother stuffing his mouth with chocolate chips in the chaos and returned to her art.

Her mommy liked to tell her about something called astronomy which was a very, very boring version of why there were fish and scorpions and a hunter pony hidden in the sky, but Stella always liked connecting things. It made it easier for her to understand her mother's work - she wanted to learn to sew too! Or paint! Or something! She knew that she didn't want to be like Gallant - he wanted to be like Uncle Shiny and run around in heavy armor and stab things with swords which was all very nice, but she liked listening to her mother talk about all the pretty clothes she made and how they made ponies happy - almost like when she saw the mare who worked with her mother. She had a pretty light blue mane and spoke too quietly. The first thing had made her sad, since she would have loved to pull that mane very much, but looking at it would have to do.

Stellar heard a lot of talk of art from that mare and her mother. Her Auntie Cady also talked a lot about art pop, but Stellar had a feeling that it might not be the same thing as what she was making.

She used her connecting skills and realized that the pancakes she had been given were very blank and plain, like paper. Syrup, sprinkles, and chocolate chips were very colorful, just like her crayons. From there, Stella let her genius unfold.

Blue syrup was for her mother, and Uncle Shiny said that blue was a very tough color - and mother had blue eyes! She drew her mother as prettily as possible because even though her mother was tough - she always won arguments by clearing her throat a little or blinking very funny so her eyelashes looked funny and whispering secrets in mommy's ear - Stella knew that her mother was also very pretty and kind, so she wanted that to show.

She wasn't able to find two blue sprinkles for her eyes and might have accidentally poured the other half of the sprinkles all over where mother's head should be, but that was okay because Auntie Cady said that her mother shot rainbows at ponies.

Mommy was made of red syrup and had chocolate chip eyes. She also had a chocolate chip mouth that was in a big grin that she always had when she saw mommy.

Stellar had been extra careful with her work so that by the time she was done, she was still recognizable as a vaguely pony-like creature under all the syrup, whipped cream, sprinkles, and bandages that covered every inch of her.

"Mommy! Mother! Look!" Unsticking her hooves as best as she could, Stella pushed the plate towards them while Gallant eyed the masterpiece as well.

And look they did! Stella smiled excitedly as she watched her mommies. They looked so proud! Mommy made a very excited scream and then started breathing in and out very quickly. This was very confusing to Stella because she didn't understand why mommy was pointing at her instead of the pretty picture that she made.

Mother must have thought her art was boring because she didn't say anything and just fell asleep at the table.

Maybe she should have eaten the pancakes instead?