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Febuwhump Day One || Vocal Chords || Human!Applejack x Human!Rarity
CW: Emotional suffering, isolation
Rating: SFW
Desc: Rarity loses her voice and Applejack insists she stays on the farm.
Author's note: This can be considered an addition to my fic series "Diamonds In The Rough" but can also be enjoyed separately.
Pings: @febuwhump
Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated
The sun had barely risen over Sweet Apple Acres, casting its golden rays over the familiar fields and orchards that Applejack tended to with pride. It was a typical morning, filled with the familiar scent of apples and freshly-tilled soil, but something was off, something that didn't belong in the usually vibrant landscape of her farm.
Rarity stood at the edge of the field, her hands clutching the delicate silk of her scarf, a precious accessory she couldn’t quite bear to part with, even now. Her throat ached, not from the work that Applejack had insisted she do, but from the heavy, unbearable weight of silence that had haunted her. Not even a whisper of her usual sweet voice could escape her lips.
It had been two days since the accident. One moment, they had been arguing over some trivial detail of Applejack’s farm chores, and the next, Rarity had screamed in frustration, only for the sound to catch in her throat. She had felt a searing pain, like shards of glass scraping the inside of her chest, and from that moment on, silence had become her reality. No matter how hard she tried, not a single word could pass her lips.
Applejack had immediately insisted she stay at the farm, believing the peace of nature would heal her. But it wasn’t the peaceful farm that she longed for, it was her voice, her ability to speak, to command attention, to express herself with grace. But now, that gift had been ripped away, and in its place was a hole of frustration and fear.
The agony of not being able to communicate gnawed at Rarity constantly. She felt like a prisoner trapped within her own skin, unable to articulate her thoughts, unable to soothe her own soul. Every attempt to form a word, every gesture of her hands, only served as a reminder of what had been lost. It was as if a part of her identity had been erased, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable.
Applejack, though she tried to be patient, seemed oblivious to the depth of Rarity’s pain. To her, the silence was just a temporary inconvenience, something that could be worked through. But Rarity, trapped in her own mind, felt the walls closing in, her silence stretching into an eternity.
She stared at Applejack now, who was working hard on a cart of apples, a far cry from the world Rarity had once known, one filled with elegance, refinement, and the soft sounds of her own voice.
Desperation welled up in Rarity’s chest, the need to speak threatening to overwhelm her. But the only thing that came out was a faint rasp, a bitter reminder that she could no longer do what she had taken for granted for so long.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted her hand to get Applejack’s attention, but no words came. Instead, she let her hand fall limply to her side, as the realization set in, there was nothing she could do. Nothing but endure the suffocating silence that had become her prison.
And with each passing moment, she could feel herself slipping further into despair.
Days passed in a blur of muted existence. Rarity had grown accustomed to the oppressive silence that filled her world, though it never got easier. Applejack, ever busy with farm work, was doing her best to help, but Rarity could see the frustration building behind the quiet patience in her eyes. Applejack had always been direct, always quick with a word or a solution, but now, when Rarity’s frustration boiled over, there was nothing she could say.
Rarity’s mornings were spent in silence, observing Applejack as she moved through the tasks with an ease that made Rarity feel all the more useless. The tall blonde was so competent, so capable, whereas Rarity felt like a broken instrument, like a violin that had lost its strings. She had always prided herself on her grace, her charm, her ability to speak with grace and wit. To not have that, to not have herself, was torture.
As Applejack handed her a basket of apples one afternoon, Rarity’s fingers brushed against hers. The simple contact should have been reassuring, comforting even, but it felt like an abyss opening between them. Her throat tightened, the frustration bubbling over, and Rarity reached for the notebook she had begun carrying with her, a way to try to communicate, just something, anything.
Her handwriting, though practiced, was uneven as she scribbled on the page. She had already tried to use gestures and expressions, but they never seemed to get across what she truly wanted to say. Her eyes flicked over the words she had written down, her own agony reflected in the mess of ink on the page.
"Why can't I speak?"
The question seemed to hang in the air, unanswered. She felt the ache in her chest, the tightness of her heart as the question rattled inside her mind. It wasn’t just about losing her voice. It was about losing herself, about feeling as though she no longer belonged in a world where words mattered so much. Without her voice, she was no longer Rarity, the one who could captivate hearts with a single phrase. She was nothing.
Applejack’s rough, calloused hands reached down, gently taking the notebook from Rarity’s hands. She furrowed her brow, studying the words before looking back at Rarity, her face filled with concern. It was a look Rarity had seen before, but now, it felt colder, distant. Applejack didn’t know how to help her, and neither did Rarity.
For a moment, the silence between them was suffocating.
“Rarity…” Applejack began, her voice strained, but Rarity immediately shook her head. She didn’t want to hear her speak, not when there was nothing more that could be done. The words she longed to say twisted in her throat, desperate to escape, but they would never come. She wiped her eyes quickly, embarrassed by the weakness that seemed to pour out of her.
Applejack hesitated, unsure of what to do. Her usual self-assurance faltered, and the ache in her heart mirrored Rarity’s. It was clear that Applejack didn’t know how to help her, but that wasn’t what hurt the most. What hurt was the growing distance between them, the divide that had opened when Rarity’s voice was stolen away.
Days turned into weeks, and the gap between them only seemed to widen. Rarity found herself withdrawing more and more, retreating into the silence that had become her prison. Even though Applejack tried to involve her in the work, offering her small tasks, Rarity couldn’t help but feel alien in the role she had been forced into. It wasn’t the farm life she was used to, it wasn’t her life at all.
She longed to tell Applejack how she felt, to explain the despair that gnawed at her insides, but how could she? How could she make her understand that the silence was a part of her, suffocating her, drowning her in its emptiness?
Applejack, for all her strength and determination, couldn’t see the storm that raged within Rarity. The silence between them was a thick fog that clouded everything, obscuring the connection they once shared. The worst part, though, was that Rarity knew it was only a matter of time before the unspoken words, the longing looks, the silent cries, would turn into something worse, resentment.
She could feel it, growing in the pit of her stomach.
One evening, as the sun began to set and cast long shadows across the farm, Rarity stood at the fence, staring out into the horizon. The night had become her ally, her only companion in the quiet. She reached up to touch her throat, feeling the delicate skin there, the hollow space where her voice used to be. She closed her eyes, willing herself to feel something else, to find peace.
But the pain didn’t go away.
It was then that she felt a gentle presence behind her, the warmth of Applejack’s body close enough to feel but not quite touching. There was a long pause before Applejack spoke, her voice soft, hesitant.
“I can’t fix this, Rarity,” Applejack said, her words weighed down with something Rarity couldn’t quite place. “I know ya don’t wanna hear it, but… I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix ya.”
Rarity’s heart squeezed in her chest. She wanted to scream, wanted to throw herself into Applejack’s arms and demand she fix it, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. The silence was too deep, too complete. Instead, she felt tears welling in her eyes once more, tears she had no words to speak.
Applejack shifted, sensing the unshed tears, and placed a hand gently on Rarity’s shoulder. The simple gesture sent a shudder through Rarity, and for the first time in days, she allowed herself to cry, quiet, silent sobs that spoke more than words ever could.
And in the quiet of the evening, surrounded by the vast, unyielding fields, it felt as though the world itself had stopped. The silence was not something she could fix. It wasn’t something anyone could fix. But it was real. It was hers. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
For now.
Rarity spent the next few days in a daze, her mind heavy with the overwhelming weight of silence. Applejack’s touch lingered on her shoulder, an unspoken promise that she would stay by her side, though Rarity wasn’t sure what that meant anymore. Her inability to speak had torn through every part of her life, and the more she tried to push through it, the more it consumed her. The fear of being forgotten, of being silenced forever, gnawed at her soul.
Applejack was trying, though. She could see it in the way she would pause during her work to glance over at Rarity, as though waiting for a sign, a hint of the Rarity she knew. But Rarity couldn’t give her that. Not yet. She couldn’t give anyone anything when her very essence felt fractured.
The mornings, once filled with the soft hum of Rarity’s voice as she worked beside Applejack, were now punctuated by an eerie quiet. It wasn’t that Rarity didn’t want to work, it was that she couldn’t find the energy to throw herself into the chores the way Applejack did. Everything felt distant, like she was watching her own life from the outside, unable to interact with it in any meaningful way.
One afternoon, after a particularly difficult morning of attempted communication with Applejack, one that had only ended in more frustration and awkward silences, Rarity retreated into the barn. The dim light of the barn only seemed to deepen the hollowness she felt inside. She leaned against a haystack, clutching the edges of her scarf, as though the silk fabric could somehow offer her the comfort her voice once did.
A small noise made her look up, and there, standing in the doorway, was Applejack. Her strong frame filled the threshold, and the intensity of her gaze was so familiar, so unsettling.
"Rarity…" Applejack’s voice was soft but strained, as though she were holding back something, something that Rarity didn’t understand, or maybe didn’t want to. “I’ve been thinkin’ 'bout what ya said… in that notebook of yers. And I reckon maybe I’ve been lookin’ at it all wrong.”
Rarity’s heart fluttered painfully in her chest. She had written more in the notebook the night before, an outpouring of frustration and fear, written with a shaking hand. She had written about the darkness of silence, about how it had swallowed her up, and about how she feared that nothing would ever be the same again.
Applejack stepped closer, her boots crunching on the hay-covered floor. She was hesitant, unsure, but there was something about the way she moved now that made Rarity’s chest ache. It wasn’t pity, Rarity didn’t want pity. It was… something else.
Applejack sat beside her on the haystack, keeping a respectful distance at first, though her presence was enough to make Rarity feel a little less alone. A little less broken.
“I’m not good with words,” Applejack said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I never have been. But I can tell this silence, it’s eatin’ ya up from the inside. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t. But… I will try.”
Rarity’s breath caught in her throat, and though she couldn’t voice her gratitude, her eyes told Applejack everything. She didn’t need words for that.
There was something deeply human about the rawness of Applejack’s admission. She wasn’t pretending to have all the answers; she wasn’t trying to force something that wasn’t there. She was simply being honest. And for Rarity, that honesty meant more than anything she could ever have expected.
Applejack looked down at the hay between them, then reached out with her calloused hand, gently resting it on Rarity’s own. Rarity’s fingers trembled as she clasped it, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through her.
The silence between them was still thick, still heavy, but now it was different. It wasn’t the suffocating quiet that had smothered her for so long. It was a quiet that spoke of understanding, of the slow process of healing, however long that might take.
Days turned into weeks, and Rarity’s mind began to shift. Slowly, she allowed herself to accept the silence, to stop fighting it. She would never get her voice back the way it was, of that, she was certain, but that didn’t mean she was lost. She could still communicate, still find ways to express herself, even if the world couldn’t hear her.
Applejack had proven to her, time and time again, that she didn’t need Rarity to be the perfect version of herself. She didn’t need her to be the woman who charmed everyone with her speech or the one who solved problems with the precision of a perfectly worded argument. No. What Applejack needed was Rarity to be real. To be her.
One evening, after finishing a long day’s work, Rarity sat with Applejack under the stars. The air was cool, and the faintest breeze whispered through the trees. Applejack was humming quietly, a little tune she must have heard from somewhere, and Rarity, for the first time in ages, felt something other than despair. She felt a sense of peace. Even though she couldn’t speak, even though the absence of her voice still stung, she was here. She was present.
Applejack turned to her, a small smile on her lips. “Y’know, Rarity,” she said, her voice soft but warm, “I’m startin’ to think ya don’t need to talk all the time to say somethin’ important.”
Rarity gave her a small, sad smile in return. She nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth of Applejack’s words. It wasn’t the words that mattered, not anymore. It was the understanding. The bond they shared, despite the silence, was more powerful than any conversation.
As the stars shimmered above them, Rarity finally allowed herself to lean against Applejack’s shoulder, her fingers still clasped around the hem of her scarf. And for that brief, fleeting moment, silence was no longer a prison. It was just a part of their story.
The days blurred into each other. Rarity’s heart, though still burdened by the silence that clung to her like a shadow, began to heal in unexpected ways. Applejack, ever patient, never pushed her to speak. Instead, she learned to understand the subtle gestures and glances that Rarity offered. They communicated in ways that didn’t need words, ways that spoke volumes in silence.
Yet, despite the growing bond between them, Rarity still felt a sense of loss. There were moments when the weight of her silence would overwhelm her, moments when the ache in her chest seemed too much to bear. She would sometimes retreat into the barn again, away from Applejack, letting the heavy quiet wash over her in waves. But Applejack never let her stay alone for long.
One evening, after a long day of picking apples, Rarity stood by the fence, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sky was streaked with fiery reds and pinks, the last light of day casting a warm glow over Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was leaning against the nearby barn, wiping sweat from her brow, but she wasn’t working now. She was simply there, watching Rarity, waiting. The silence between them wasn’t the same as it used to be. Now, it was comfortable.
Rarity’s hands gripped the edge of the fence as she took in the peaceful scene before her. It was beautiful. It was everything she had once dreamed of, but now, it felt distant, like a world she couldn’t quite return to. And yet, as she stood there, lost in thought, she felt something shift within her. Something small, but powerful.
She turned to face Applejack, her eyes meeting hers. Applejack looked at her with a softness in her gaze that made Rarity’s chest ache. She had never known this kind of connection before, not one born from silence, not one so quiet and yet so filled with unspoken words.
Applejack pushed off the barn and walked toward her, her boots steady on the dirt ground. She stopped just a few feet away, as if giving Rarity space to breathe. She had always been like this, steady, grounded, a quiet strength in her every movement. She didn’t need to fill every moment with noise. She was enough as she was.
“Rarity,” Applejack said, her voice low and filled with something Rarity couldn’t quite name. She hesitated, her lips pressing together as if she were gathering the right words. But Rarity didn’t need her to find the perfect words anymore. She was starting to understand that what mattered wasn’t the words, but the feelings behind them. The intent.
Applejack stepped closer, and Rarity’s heart began to race. She could feel the warmth radiating off of Applejack’s body, the gentle strength of her presence. There was no need for words between them. She had learned that. The bond they had forged in silence was stronger than anything else. But now, as Applejack reached out, Rarity felt something shift once again. The distance, the longing, the heartache, it all seemed to come to a head in this single moment.
Applejack reached for Rarity’s hand, her fingers gentle as they brushed against hers. Rarity’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel the unspoken promise in the touch, a promise that no matter how long the silence lasted, they would be there for each other. In the quiet, they had built something real. Something that didn’t need words to exist.
Rarity took a step forward, closing the gap between them. She raised her free hand, reaching for Applejack’s face, brushing the back of her fingers against her warm cheek. Applejack didn’t pull away. She simply let Rarity touch her, her expression softening. The silence between them now felt different. It wasn’t a barrier anymore. It was a space where they could both just be.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Rarity allowed herself to lean into the moment. She pressed her forehead to Applejack’s, closing her eyes as she felt the steady rhythm of Applejack’s breath against her own. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t what Rarity had ever imagined. But it was real. It was them.
Tears welled in Rarity’s eyes, though they were no longer tears of frustration. They were tears of relief, of understanding, of something she hadn’t known she needed until this moment.
Applejack didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. She simply wrapped her arms around Rarity, pulling her into a hug that felt like coming home. Rarity clung to her, her hands trembling slightly, as if the touch alone could make her whole again. And in that quiet, simple embrace, Rarity realized something: She was enough. Even without her voice, she was enough.
They stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in the kind of silence that was no longer a prison. It was the silence of understanding. The silence of love.
The next morning, Rarity woke to the soft chirping of birds outside the window. The sun was rising once again over the farm, casting a golden light over everything. She could hear the faint sound of Applejack working in the fields, her voice rising in gentle conversation with Big Mac. Rarity could feel a sense of peace settling over her, as though she had found her place in this world once more.
She stepped outside, breathing in the crisp morning air. Applejack looked up from her work as Rarity approached, offering her a smile, warm and familiar. She said nothing. She didn’t need to. Instead, she offered Rarity a basket of freshly picked apples, her gaze steady and filled with something that spoke volumes.
Rarity took the basket, her fingers brushing against Applejack’s. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke more than words ever could.
And though Rarity still could not speak, she no longer felt incomplete. She had found her voice in other ways. Through the bond they shared, through the silent language of their hearts, she knew that she didn’t need to say anything at all.
For the first time since the silence had begun, Rarity felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Diamonds In The Rough || Part 5: A Little Bravery || Femme!Human!Rarity x Butch!Human!Applejack
CW: none
Rating: SFW
Desc: Applejack and Rarity go horse riding and afterwards realize that maybe they didn't hate eachother afterall.
Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated
The sun was already warming the air as Applejack and Rarity made their way to the barn the next morning. The previous day’s chores had left Rarity aching in places she didn’t know could ache, but she wasn’t about to let Applejack see her struggle. She walked with her head held high, though her steps were a little slower than usual.
Applejack smirked. "Don’t worry, sugarcube. Today’s all about learnin’ tack. Ain’t no heavy liftin', just some good ol’ fashioned know-how."
"Tack?" Rarity repeated, tilting her head. "What on earth is that?"
Applejack led her into the barn, where an array of leather straps, saddles, and bridles hung neatly on the walls. "Tack’s all the gear we use for ridin’ and workin’ with the horses, saddles, reins, halters, bits, all that. If you’re gonna be spendin’ time on the farm, you oughta know how to use it."
Rarity eyed the assortment skeptically, her nose wrinkling at the distinct smell of leather and horse sweat. "It doesn’t look terribly glamorous."
Applejack chuckled. "It ain’t. But it’s necessary. Come on, I’ll show ya."
She grabbed a saddle off the rack, placing it on a nearby stand. "This here’s your basic Western saddle. You got your horn, seat, stirrups-"
"Horn?" Rarity interrupted, eyeing the curved protrusion at the front. "Is that for decoration?"
Applejack laughed, shaking her head. "Nah, darlin’. It’s for holdin’ onto when you’re ridin’, or ropin’ cattle, if you’re doin’ that kinda work."
Rarity pursed her lips. "I see. And… it’s clean, I hope?"
"As clean as it needs to be," Applejack replied with a wink, grabbing a bridle. "Now this is what we use to guide the horse. The bit goes in their mouth, and the reins let you steer."
Rarity’s face twisted in mild horror. "You put that in their mouths? It looks so… uncomfortable."
Applejack shrugged. "They’re used to it. It don’t hurt ‘em if it’s fitted right." She handed the bridle to Rarity. "Here, try holdin’ it. Feels a little heavier than you’d expect."
Rarity took the bridle reluctantly, her delicate hands gripping the worn leather. "Goodness, it’s heavier than it looks."
"Told ya." Applejack grabbed another piece of tack, explaining its purpose as she worked. She demonstrated how to attach the saddle to the horse, looping the girth under the belly and securing it tightly.
"Now you give it a shot," Applejack said, stepping back and motioning toward the next horse.
Rarity blinked, glancing between the saddle and the large animal before her. "You want me to do that?"
"Sure do. Don’t worry, I’ll guide ya."
With Applejack’s encouragement, Rarity approached the horse, muttering under her breath about the indignity of manual labor. She lifted the saddle awkwardly, nearly losing her balance as she swung it onto the horse’s back.
"Easy there, princess," Applejack said, steadying the saddle with one hand. "You ain’t wrestlin’ it. Just place it gentle-like."
Rarity grumbled but adjusted her movements, following Applejack’s instructions. By the time she finished securing the girth, she was sweating lightly, her hair coming loose from its meticulous styling.
"There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?" Applejack teased.
Rarity stepped back, brushing her hands together as though she’d just conquered a mountain. "It was… tolerable."
Applejack grinned, tipping her hat. "Well, look at you, already halfway to bein’ a proper farmhand."
"Don’t push your luck," Rarity said, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward.
Applejack chuckled. "Come on. Let’s get these horses saddled up for a ride. You earned it."
With the horses saddled and ready to go, Applejack led them out into the yard, the sun casting golden streaks across the fields. Rarity followed, her face a picture of reluctant determination as she trailed behind her assigned horse, a calm and gentle gelding named Buck.
"Alright, sugarcube," Applejack said, giving her own horse, a sleek mare named Daisy, a firm pat on the neck. "You’re up. Just put your foot in the stirrup and swing on up. Buck here’s as gentle as they come."
Rarity froze, eyeing the tall horse like it was a monster. She glanced at the stirrup, her stomach twisting.
"Uh… Applejack?" she started, her voice unusually hesitant.
Applejack turned, her hat tilted back slightly as she leaned against Daisy. "What’s the holdup? Need me to give ya a boost?"
Rarity’s cheeks flushed as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "It’s just… well… horses are quite tall, aren’t they?"
Applejack’s lips curled into a teasing smile. "Most of ‘em are, yeah. That a problem?"
Rarity sighed, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "I wasn’t going to mention it, but… I may have a slight fear of heights."
Applejack blinked, then threw her head back with a hearty laugh. "You’re scared of heights? On a horse? Rarity, we’re talkin’ maybe five, six feet tops!"
"It’s more than enough, thank you!" Rarity snapped, her tone defensive. "What if I fall? Or the horse gets spooked? Or I-"
"Whoa there, darlin’," Applejack said, holding up her hands. Her laughter softened into a warm, reassuring smile. "Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to ya. Buck’s the sweetest horse on the farm, and I’ll be ridin’ right next to ya. Trust me, you’ll be fine."
Rarity chewed on her lip, her nerves still bubbling under the surface. "You’re sure he won’t… throw me off?"
Applejack stepped closer, placing a hand on Buck’s side. "Buck wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone you. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll walk ya through it step by step. Deal?"
Rarity hesitated but eventually nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her borrowed plaid shirt. "Deal."
Applejack grinned. "That’s my girl. Alright, first thing, just put your foot in the stirrup. Like this." She demonstrated with Daisy, mounting effortlessly before sliding back down to the ground.
Rarity mimicked her movements, albeit less gracefully, managing to get her foot into the stirrup.
"Good. Now grab the horn and swing your other leg over. Don’t think too much about it, just do it."
Rarity took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. With a slightly unladylike grunt, she swung her leg over the saddle and settled onto Buck’s back.
Rarity took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. With a slightly unladylike grunt, she swung her leg over the saddle and settled onto Buck’s back.
"There ya go!" Applejack cheered, clapping her hands. "See? Nothin’ to it!"
Rarity sat stiffly, her hands gripping the horn as though her life depended on it. "Yes, well… I suppose it’s not entirely awful," she admitted, though her knuckles were white.
Applejack chuckled, mounting Daisy with ease. "You’ll loosen up once we get movin’. Now, just give Buck a light squeeze with your legs to get him goin’."
Rarity did as instructed, and Buck began to walk, his steps slow and steady. She let out a nervous laugh, glancing over at Applejack. "Alright, perhaps this isn’t so bad after all."
Applejack smiled warmly. "Told ya. Let’s take it slow, and by the end of this ride, you’ll be feelin’ like a natural."
Rarity gave a smile, her earlier fears starting to fade away as the two of them rode off into the sprawling fields.
The gentle sway of the horses beneath them and the rhythmic clopping of hooves created a calming backdrop as Applejack and Rarity rode. The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of wildflowers, the perfect balance to the warmth of the late morning sun.
Rarity sat a little more comfortably now, though she still gripped the reins with caution. Her posture was upright and elegant, a stark contrast to Applejack’s relaxed slouch as they meandered along a well-worn trail.
"I must admit," Rarity began, her voice lilting as she admired the scenery, "the countryside is quite charming. It’s… peaceful."
Applejack chuckled. "Told ya so. Ain’t nothin’ like it. Beats all that city noise any day."
Rarity shot her a playful glance. "Well, I wouldn’t go that far. There’s a certain… sophistication to city life that the farm doesn’t quite offer."
Applejack smirked, tipping her hat back. "Yeah, well, I ain’t never needed ‘sophistication’ to be happy. Just a good day’s work and good company."
Rarity rolled her eyes, but the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. "You and your simple pleasures," she teased.
"And you with your high standards," Applejack retorted, grinning.
They continued to banter, their laughter mingling with the soft breeze as they crossed a small stream. Applejack occasionally glanced at Rarity, noting how the sunlight caught her hair and the way her smile seemed to soften her usual sharp demeanor.
"You’re not so bad, y’know," Applejack said after a moment, her tone more sincere than teasing.
Rarity blinked, caught off guard. She turned to look at Applejack, her cheeks warming. "I… beg your pardon?"
Applejack shrugged, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I mean, I figured you’d be complainin’ the whole time or find some excuse to hightail it back to your fancy little boutique. But you’ve stuck it out. Even done a decent job, all things considered." She glanced at Rarity, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Kinda admirable, actually."
Rarity’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her reins. "Well… I suppose I do have more grit than people give me credit for," she said, her voice a little higher-pitched than usual.
Applejack chuckled. "That you do. Never thought I’d say this, but… you’re alright, Rarity. You ain’t just some prissy city girl after all."
Rarity felt her cheeks burn, the warmth spreading all the way to her ears. She cleared her throat, doing her best to maintain composure. "I, well, that’s very kind of you to say, Applejack."
Applejack tilted her head, noticing the slight tremor in Rarity’s usually composed voice. "You alright there, darlin’? You’re lookin’ a little flushed."
"I’m fine!" Rarity replied quickly, fanning herself with one hand as if the sun was suddenly unbearable. "Just… the heat, you know. It’s positively sweltering out here."
Applejack grinned, her expression teasing. "Uh-huh. Sure it is."
Rarity shot her a glare, though it lacked its usual sharpness. "Oh, hush. Let’s keep riding before you say something else utterly ridiculous."
Applejack laughed, nudging Daisy into a steady trot. "Alright, princess, whatever you say."
As they continued on, Rarity couldn’t help but steal a few glances at Applejack, her words replaying in her mind. For the first time since she’d arrived on the farm, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely dreading this experience anymore.
After a long day of riding and laughter, Applejack and Rarity returned to the farmhouse, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Dinner was simple yet honest, grilled vegetables, fresh cornbread, and a stew that Rarity reluctantly admitted was "decent." Their playful banter continued through the meal, their teasing softer now, more familiar, as though they’d known each other for years instead of just a few days.
As they cleared the dishes, Applejack leaned back against the counter, eyeing Rarity with a thoughtful expression.
"Y’know, Rare, you’ve been wearin’ those same clothes for a couple of days now," she said casually. "You want somethin’ fresh to change into?"
Rarity froze, her eyes widening as realization struck her. She looked down at herself, horrified. "Oh, darling, I hadn’t even noticed!" she exclaimed, her tone a dramatic wail. "How unsanitary! I must look and smell positively dreadful!"
Applejack chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re fine, sugarcube. But I get it. Come on, I’ll grab you somethin’ else to wear."
Rarity followed Applejack upstairs, a small pout on her lips as she muttered about hygiene and appearances. Applejack led her into her room, the space simple and cozy, with its wooden furniture and a faint scent of pine.
"Here," Applejack said, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through it. She handed Rarity a soft flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants. "This’ll do. Might be a little loose, but it’s clean."
Rarity inspected the clothes with a critical eye before giving a resigned sigh. "I suppose it’ll have to do."
Applejack smirked. "While you’re at it, why don’t you take a shower? Might help you feel better."
Rarity perked up at the suggestion. "That… actually sounds divine. Thank you, Applejack." She took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Applejack alone in her room.
As the sound of running water filled the farmhouse, Applejack sat on the edge of her bed, her hat in her hands. She stared down at it, her thoughts a jumbled mess.
Why was her heart racing? Why did she feel like the room was suddenly too warm?
Applejack let out a frustrated groan, dropping her hat onto the bed. "Get a grip, AJ," she muttered to herself. "She’s just a friend. A… real pretty friend. With a smile that could light up the whole dang farm…"
She buried her face in her hands, groaning again. "Sweet Celestia, what’s wrong with me?"
The sound of the bathroom door opening snapped her out of her thoughts. Applejack looked up just as Rarity stepped into the room, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, her cheeks glowing from the heat of the shower. She was wearing the flannel and sweatpants, the loose fabric somehow making her look even more stunning.
Applejack’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure Rarity could hear it.
Rarity smiled softly, tilting her head. "Thank you again, darling. I feel so much better now."
Applejack stood, her legs moving before her brain could catch up. She walked toward Rarity, her face flushing redder with every step. She stopped just inches away, her gaze locked onto Rarity’s.
Rarity’s smile faltered, replaced by a curious, slightly nervous expression. "Applejack?"
Applejack didn’t answer. She didn’t think. She just acted.
Reaching out, she cupped Rarity’s face with one calloused hand and leaned in, pressing her lips against hers.
For a split second, Applejack panicked, but then she felt Rarity respond, her lips soft and warm as she kissed her back.
The world seemed to stand still, the only sound the faint creak of the farmhouse settling in the night.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their faces flushed.
Rarity looked up at Applejack, her eyes wide but filled with something unspoken, something warm. "Well," she said softly, a small, shy smile tugging at her lips. "That was… unexpected."
Applejack let out a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of her neck. "Yeah, uh… sorry ‘bout that. Don’t know what came over me."
"Don’t apologize," Rarity said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mind."
Applejack’s heart soared at the words, and for the first time, she allowed herself to smile a true smile, wide and unrestrained.
Maybe this was the start of something neither of them had expected, but neither of them seemed to mind.
The room was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of the trees outside the farmhouse window. Rarity and Applejack stood there, caught in the gravity of the moment, their breaths still uneven from the kiss they’d just shared.
Applejack hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Rarity’s face as if looking for permission. What she saw made her heart ache, Rarity’s wide, sparkling eyes, her lips parted ever so slightly, and the faintest smile that hinted at something deeper, something unspoken.
"Rarity," Applejack murmured, her voice low and husky, filled with a vulnerability she rarely let show.
"Yes, darling?" Rarity replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath ghosting over Applejack’s lips.
Applejack didn’t answer. She leaned in again, this time slower, more deliberate. When their lips met, it wasn’t tentative like before, it was deeper, warmer, as if the floodgates had finally opened.
Rarity melted into the kiss, her hands instinctively reaching up to rest on Applejack’s shoulders. She tilted her head slightly, letting the kiss deepen, her body pressing closer as though drawn by an invisible force. Applejack’s hands found their way to Rarity’s waist, the strength in her grip steady yet tender.
Time seemed to blur, the weight of their shared emotions filling the room. Applejack tilted her head, her hat tumbling off the bed unnoticed behind them. Rarity let out the softest sigh against her lips, the sound sending a shiver through Applejack’s body.
Neither of them spoke, their thoughts overtaken by the intensity of the moment. Every touch, every gentle press of lips, every breath shared was a silent confession of feelings they’d both been too stubborn, or too scared, to admit.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, their breaths mingling in the still air. Rarity’s cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at Applejack.
"You’re… quite good at that," Rarity said, her voice trembling slightly but laced with a hint of playfulness.
Applejack chuckled, her thumb brushing against Rarity’s waist absentmindedly. "Reckon I had some pretty good inspiration," she replied, her grin softer than usual, almost shy.
Rarity’s laughter was light, musical, as she leaned in and placed a small kiss on Applejack’s cheek. "If you keep that up, Applejack, I might never want to leave this farm."
Applejack felt her heart skip a beat, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to hope. "Well, sugarcube," she said, her voice steady but warm, "maybe I don’t want you to."
Their gazes locked again, and in that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, standing there, hearts full and defenses down. For the first time, neither of them felt the need to fight what was so clearly meant to be.
And then you go on to say how you’re an adult and think minors shouldn’t interact w your adult fics. The character in your fic is a minor. Represents irl minors, is a teenager who looks like a teen and acts like one, but you don’t want minors on the internet liking the post? So odd to me that you’re fine with writing smut about minors
Diamonds In The Rough || Part 4: Roughhousing || Femme!Human!Rarity x Butch!Human!Applejack
CW: none
Rating: SFW
Desc: Rarity's second day on the job turns out more fun than she'd imagined.
Author's note: This one is quite a bit longer, enjoy!
Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated!
After finishing up in the barn, Applejack and Rarity made their way back to the farmhouse. The smell of something savory greeted them as they stepped inside. Rarity hesitated as Applejack set a steaming dish on the table. It was lumpy, golden-brown, and slightly charred around the edges. Rarity’s perfectly shaped eyebrows curled as she forced herself to suppress a gag.
Applejack caught the expression and smirked. "What’s the matter, darlin’? Never had Shepherd’s Pie before?"
"Um... no, I haven’t," Rarity admitted, eyeing the dish like it might attack her.
Applejack plopped down in her chair, casually grabbing a serving spoon. "Figured as much. It looks kinda scary if you ain’t used to it, but trust me, it’s amazin’." She piled a generous portion onto her plate, steam rising as she dug in.
Rarity hesitated, her fingers daintily clutching the edge of her fork. "Okay..."
She cautiously scooped a small portion onto her plate, inspecting the layers of mashed potatoes, ground meat, and vegetables. This is not a souffle, she reminded herself. You can do this, Rarity.
Applejack watched her with amusement, chewing happily. "What’s the worst that could happen? It ain’t poisoned."
Rarity shot her a glare but finally took a tiny bite. Her eyes widened in surprise as the flavors hit her tongue, rich, savory, and satisfying.
"Well?" Applejack asked, sporting a cocky grin.
Rarity set her fork down delicately, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "It’s... not the worst thing I’ve ever tasted."
Applejack laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I’ll take that as a compliment. Now eat up, princess. You’re gonna need your strength for tomorrow."
Rarity groaned, the realization that this was only day one sinking in. "Tomorrow? What fresh torture do you have planned?"
Applejack winked. "Oh, you’ll see."
---
The morning sun spilled through the farmhouse windows, casting a warm glow on the couch where Rarity had accidentally dozed off. She blinked groggily, the realization dawning on her that she’d spent the entire night in Applejack’s living room.
Sitting up, she glanced down at herself. She was still wearing Applejack’s old, oversized clothes. A faint blush crept up her cheeks as she fidgeted with the hem of the plaid shirt. Out of curiosity, or maybe something else entirely, she glanced around the room, ensuring she was alone, and then brought the collar of the shirt to her nose for a quick sniff.
Her heart fluttered, and she immediately sat stiff upright, cheeks now bright red. "Disgusting," she muttered to herself. "That’s all it is. I despise this sweaty scent. My heart is… is… gagging! Yes, that’s it."
She stood up abruptly, brushing imaginary dust off the borrowed clothes as if to shake off the strange feelings creeping into her chest. Quickly pulling on her boots, she tried to compose herself, smoothing her hair and willing her usual poise to return.
The telltale creak of footsteps on the stairs broke the silence, and she glanced toward the staircase just in time to see Applejack strolling down, her hat already perched on her head.
"Mornin’, sugarcube," Applejack greeted with a lopsided grin. "Didn’t expect you to be up so early. Sleep alright?"
Rarity crossed her arms, feigning indifference. "I survived. Though I’ll have you know, that couch is an affront to my spine."
Applejack chuckled. "Well, reckon you’ll be too busy today to notice. Hope you’re ready for round two."
Rarity huffed, tilting her nose in the air. "I was born ready."
Applejack smirked, brushing past her toward the kitchen. "Good to hear. I’ll get us some coffee. You’re gonna need it."
Rarity followed, her heart inexplicably fluttering again. She pushed the feeling aside, blaming it on the lack of proper sleep. Yes, that must be it, she thought. That’s the only explanation.
After a quick breakfast, Applejack led Rarity out to the barn, her confident stride in stark contrast to Rarity's hesitant steps. The sun was already climbing in the sky, and the scent of hay and horses filled the air.
"Alright, sugarcube," Applejack drawled, pulling open the barn doors. "Today, we’re pickin’ hooves and cleanin’ out the stalls. Gotta keep the horses healthy and comfy."
Rarity froze mid-step, her face contorting in horror. "You… you expect me to handle manure?!"
Applejack smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Sure do. Unless you wanna break that deal of ours and hightail it back to the city."
Rarity’s jaw tightened, and she straightened her posture, determined not to give Applejack the satisfaction. "I’ll manage, thank you very much."
"That’s the spirit," Applejack said with a grin, handing her a pair of gloves. "Put these on. And grab that muck rake over there."
Rarity slipped on the gloves, grimacing at how rough they felt. She picked up the rake with obvious distaste, holding it as far from her body as possible.
Applejack chuckled, leading her to the first stall. "Now, first thing’s first: pickin’ hooves. Keeps the horses from gettin’ sore or lame. I’ll show ya how it’s done, then you can give it a try."
Applejack walked up to a towering chestnut horse, murmuring softly as she ran her hand down its leg. The horse shifted its weight, and Applejack lifted its hoof with ease. "See? You take this hoof pick here," she said, demonstrating, "and scrape out the dirt and rocks. Careful not to hurt the frog, that’s this soft bit right here in the middle."
Rarity watched, her expression somewhere between fascination and revulsion. When Applejack finished, she dusted off her hands and stepped aside. "Your turn."
Rarity hesitated, glancing up at the massive animal. "What if it kicks me?"
"Won’t happen if you’re calm and gentle," Applejack assured her. "He can feel your nerves, so just act like you know what you’re doin’."
Summoning all her courage, Rarity approached the horse. She mimicked Applejack’s movements, murmuring something unintelligible as she reached for the hoof. The horse cooperated, and she managed to lift it, though her arms trembled slightly.
"That’s it, good girl," Applejack encouraged, her tone soft but teasing.
Rarity’s face flushed at the words, and she nearly dropped the hoof. Gritting her teeth, she focused on the task, scraping out the dirt as carefully as possible. When she finally finished, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
"Not bad," Applejack said with an approving nod. "Now, let’s get to muckin’ out the stalls. This one’s all yours."
Rarity stared at the pile of manure in the corner of the stall, her stomach churning. "Lovely," she muttered, grabbing the rake.
Applejack leaned against the stall door, watching with a smug grin. "Don’t forget to shovel it into the wheelbarrow. And, uh, don’t step in it."
Rarity shot her a glare but got to work, her movements clumsy but determined. As the morning wore on, she found herself sweating, her carefully styled hair falling out of place. Still, she pushed through, refusing to let Applejack’s smugness get the better of her.
By the time they finished the stalls, Rarity was exhausted and covered in a light sheen of sweat, but she held her head high.
"Not bad for a city girl," Applejack said, tossing her a water bottle.
Rarity caught it and took a long sip, wiping her brow. "You’d better appreciate this effort, Applejack. I think I’ve aged a decade."
Applejack chuckled, tipping her hat. "Oh, I appreciate it, sugarcube. And you’ll be even better at it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Rarity groaned, already dreading what was next.
The sun was just dipping below the horizon as Applejack and Rarity trudged back to the farmhouse. The warm, golden light bathed the fields, and the distant sounds of crickets filled the air. Despite the exhaustion, she had to admit there was something oddly peaceful about the farm at sunset.
Inside, Granny Smith had left a simple dinner waiting for them: vegetable stew with cornbread on the side. They sat down at the table, their boots kicked off by the door, and began to eat.
"Y’know," Applejack said between bites, "I didn’t think you’d last past the first pile of manure. Gotta say, I’m impressed."
Rarity arched a brow, holding her spoon with the delicacy of someone at a five-star restaurant. "Please. I can handle anything you throw at me. You’ll just have to excuse me if I don’t enjoy it."
Applejack smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, I noticed, darlin’. That little gag reflex of yours gave you away more than once."
Rarity’s cheeks flushed, and she shot her a sharp glare. "I beg your pardon. If I recall, I wasn’t the one slipping on… well, you know."
"Hey, that was one time!" Applejack protested, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"Once was enough," Rarity replied with a sly grin, clearly pleased with her jab.
The banter continued as they finished their meal, and by the time the dishes were cleared, the teasing had turned into light shoves and playful swats.
"You think you’re funny, huh?" Applejack said, standing with her hands on her hips, a mischievous look in her eye.
"Well, someone has to be," Rarity retorted, stepping away but not fast enough.
Applejack lunged, gently grabbing her wrist and spinning her around, causing Rarity to stumble with a surprised yelp.
"Let go!" Rarity said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as laughter bubbled out.
"What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little farm girl roughhousing?" Applejack teased, holding her at arm’s length while Rarity squirmed.
Rarity finally broke free and turned, giving Applejack a firm shove in retaliation. Applejack laughed and retaliated with a light tug at Rarity’s borrowed plaid shirt.
"Careful, darlin’, wouldn’t want to rip my old shirt. Might make you feel exposed."
Rarity’s face turned crimson, but she quickly masked it with a glare. "Oh, you are insufferable!"
"Am I?" Applejack leaned closer, her grin downright smug.
Rarity turned away, trying to suppress the flustered feeling rising in her chest. Her hands fiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves, and she took a deep breath to regain her composure. "You’re lucky I’m too tired to deal with you properly."
Applejack chuckled, stepping back and raising her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, truce. For tonight, anyway."
Rarity rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. As much as Applejack’s teasing got under her skin, there was something disarmingly genuine about her that Rarity couldn’t quite ignore.
"Good," Rarity said, smoothing her hair and standing tall. "Because tomorrow, I’ll be the one outsmarting you."
Applejack’s grin widened. "We’ll see about that, princess."
Diamonds In The Rough || Part 3: Feeding The Feelings || Butch!Human!Applejack x Femme!Human!Rarity
CW: None
Rating: SFW
Desc: Rarity starts her first day on the job and Applejack is as sassy as ever.
Author's Note: Woaj.... lebaiqns.... so cool.....
Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated!
Applejack had completely forgotten about the deal and was enjoying her day off, sprawled out in bed till nearly noon. That was until the familiar rumble of tires in the driveway shattered her peace.
"Well, shoot."
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She tugged on her well-worn leather pants, a snug black T-shirt, and a flannel shirt that refused to button all the way over her chest. Cinching her chunky belt, she shoved her boots on and grabbed her hat before heading downstairs. She stepped onto the porch, leaned against the frame, and nearly doubled over laughing at the sight before her.
"Rarity, darlin’," Her tone dripping with amusement, "you really think you’re gonna learn ‘bout horses wearin’... that?"
Rarity stood in the driveway, hands on her hips, sporting a leopard print tube top, a jean jacket and shorts combo so short they barely qualified as clothing, and a flimsy brown belt. The only thing remotely farm-appropriate was her cowboy boots.
"I most certainly do," Rarity sniffed. "What’s the issue?"
Applejack snorted. "Issue is, you’re gonna get horse crap in them fancy boots, and pretty much everywhere else too. C’mon inside. We’re findin’ you somethin’ more sensible to wear."
"As long as it’s fashionable," Rarity quipped, following Applejack into the farmhouse.
"It won’t be," Applejack shot back with a grin.
Rarity huffed and took a seat in a chair opposite Granny Smith, who rocked silently in her chair. Meanwhile, Applejack stomped up the stairs, searching through her old clothes. She returned with a faded pair of jeans and a plaid button-up that had seen better days.
"Here," Applejack called, tossing the bundle to Rarity. "Bathroom’s up there. Change into these."
Rarity eyed the clothes like they might bite. "These look filthy."
"They ain’t dirty," Applejack countered, crossing her arms. "They just ain’t got sequins, so I guess they offend your delicate sensibilities. Remember the deal, no whinin’, or you’re headed straight back home."
Rarity clamped her mouth shut and snatched the clothes, stomping off to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she reappeared, the baggy jeans barely clinging to her frame and the plaid shirt hanging loosely.
Applejack smirked. "Untuck your pants."
"What?"
"Pants go over the boots, sugarcube."
Rarity let out a dramatic sigh but complied, bending over to adjust her jeans.
"There ya go," Applejack said. "Alright, we’re takin’ it easy today, just feedin’ the horses. My brother’s got the rest covered."
They headed out back, but instead of stopping at the barn, Applejack kept walking.
"Uh, shouldn’t we be feedin’ the horses in the barn?" Rarity asked, trailing behind.
Applejack tipped her hat back. "Gotta get the feed first, city girl."
She led Rarity to a stack of haybales and grabbed two. She gestured for Rarity to grab one.
Rarity hesitated but finally picked one up, groaning under its weight. Applejack chuckled, the sound mocking. "Well, look at that. Didn’t think you’d manage it at all."
Rarity scowled, struggling to keep up as they carried the bales back and forth. Once they’d stacked enough, Applejack leaned against a post.
"Horses eat two percent of their body weight a day. Guess how much this big guy weighs."
"Uh, 300 pounds?" Rarity ventured.
Applejack burst out laughing. "Bless your heart. This here’s a 1200-pound horse, sugarcube."
"Oh… wow," Rarity muttered, embarrassed.
"Yep. So how much does he eat?"
"Um... 24 pounds?"
Applejack tipped her hat. "Well, look at that. You can do math after all. He’s already had 12 pounds, so we’ll feed him six now."
"Wouldn’t that be too little?"
"Nah, he eats four times a day. You wouldn’t wanna eat all your meals at once, would ya?"
"That’s... fair," Rarity admitted.
Applejack opened the stable and waved Rarity in. Rarity froze at the sight, and smell, of a pile of manure. She was ready to complain but clamped her mouth shut, remembering the deal. Applejack noticed and smirked.
"Aw, what’s the matter, darlin’? Don’t tell me that’s what’s got you hesitatin’." Her voice was honeyed with sarcasm.
Rarity swallowed her pride and stepped inside, gingerly avoiding the mess. Applejack showed her how to properly place the hay in the trough, the whole time struggling not to laugh at Rarity’s obvious discomfort.
"Good girl, sugarcube," Applejack teased, leaning on the stall door. "Reckon you’ll survive after all."
Rarity’s heart skipped a beat at Applejack’s teasing tone. Good girl? Did she have to say it like that? Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she busied herself messing with strand of hay that had gotten stuck to her borrowed shirt.
"You alright there, darlin’?" Applejack tilted her hat back, her lips curling into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Don’t tell me you’re overheat’n on me already. We ain’t even started the hard work yet."
"I’m perfectly fine," Rarity snapped, though her voice quivered. She smoothed her hair in a confident gesture, hoping that Applejack wouldn't notice her flustered state.
"Uh-huh," Applejack drawled, clearly unconvinced. She pushed off the stall door and grabbed another bale of hay, tossing it like it weighed nothing. "Reckon we oughta get you some water before ya pass out, Miss High Society."
Rarity narrowed her eyes, determined not to let Applejack have the upper hand. "I’ll have you know, I’m tougher than I look. But if you’re so concerned, I won’t say no to some water."
Applejack chuckled, shaking her head. "Suit yourself, princess. C’mon, let’s head to the pump. Don’t wanna lose ya to heatstroke before ya’ve even fed the rest of the horses."
Rarity followed her, her pulse still racing. Applejack’s casual confidence and teasing demeanor were going to be the death of her.
Diamonds In The Rough || Part 2: A Helping Hoof || Femme!Human!Rarity x Butch!Human!Applejack
CW: Light arguing
Rating: SFW
Desc: Rarity returns after a week of no one being willing to give her a horse
Author's Note: This is part two of a fic series I'm working on! All parts can be found with the #diamonds in the rough tag on my profile!
Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated!
Rarity drove down the dirt road, frustration building just beneath her perfect exterior. She’d spent the entire week being dismissed by ranch after ranch, all of them scoffing at her lack of knowledge. If no one was willing to help her, she’d simply have to demand it.
For some reason, her car had guided her back to that farm, the one owned by the girl who had insulted her the most. That rude, utterly maddening girl. Tan skin kissed by the sun, freckles scattered like stardust across her cheeks, those piercing green eyes, and arms that looked carved from stone. Rarity hated her. Absolutely, positively hated her. That was why she couldn’t stop thinking about her, surely.
The bumpy road jostled her out of her thoughts, and she slammed on the brakes as the farm's familiar wooden fence came into view. She stepped out of her car, dusting off her pantsuit, and stomped toward the fence, scanning the property for her.
“Well, well, well, look who’s back,” came a voice, low and dripping with country twang.
Rarity spun around, and there she was, standing toe-to-toe with the object of her hate.
“You never told me your name,” Rarity blurted before she could stop herself.
Applejack raised an eyebrow. “Reckon I didn’t. Name’s Applejack. Now, what’s it to ya?”
“I need you to teach me how to care for a horse,” Rarity said, lifting her chin in defiance.
Applejack threw her head back and let out a loud, hearty laugh. “Oh, sugarcube, that’s a good one. You? Takin’ care of a horse? You’d sooner faint than break a nail.”
“I’m serious!” Rarity snapped, her cheeks burning. “My niece’s birthday is coming up, and I refuse to be the only one there with a gift that couldn't suffice."
“Well, hate to break it to ya, princess, but that’s a hard no from me. I ain’t got time to babysit some prissy city slicker who’s too scared to get her hands dirty.”
Rarity’s jaw dropped. “Princess? How dare you? Do you think I’m some vain, shallow creature who only cares about appearances?”
Applejack smirked, crossing her arms. “Ain’t that what ya are? You’re standin’ here in heels so high they could double as stilts, hollerin’ at me like I owe you somethin’. Face it, sugarcube, you ain’t cut out for ranch life.”
“Call me princess again, dirt pile, and see what happens,” Rarity growled.
“Dirt pile?” Applejack let out another laugh, shaking her head. “That the best you got? Ain’t my fault you’re too scared of a little grime.”
“I am not scared!” Rarity stomped her foot, the heel sinking slightly into the dirt. “I will learn, and you will teach me. End of story.”
Applejack’s eyes narrowed as she looked Rarity up and down, her smirk fading. “Fine,” she said at last, her voice stern. “I’ll teach ya the basics. But the second you give up or start whinin’, that’s it. You ain’t comin’ back, you hear me?”
“Deal,” Rarity said, thrusting her hand forward.
Applejack shook it, her grip firm and calloused, leaving Rarity’s hand smeared with dirt. Rarity’s nose wrinkled, and she gagged slightly, wiping her hand on her pant leg.
“Welcome to farm life, princess,” Applejack said with a sly grin.
“It’s Rarity,” she shot back, already regretting every decision that had led her to this moment.
The real work was about to begin, and Rarity had no idea what she’d just gotten herself into.
As a victim of CSEM, I’d like to confirm that even when it’s placed in the clearnet and reported early it takes forever for them to find out and do something about it. Let’s not clog their systems with fictional characters when real children are being hurt.
1. Not everyone has access to therapy, but since you're so obsessed with it let me tell you what my personal therapist thinks about being proship. "As long as you don't let it leak into your real life views and opinions, enjoy whatever you want." Therapists support proshippers most of the time because it's an outlet, coping mechanism, and not hurting anyone.
2. "Take a shower" is ableist to an extent. People with depression, autism, ADHD, and similar disorders often forget or don't have the energy to shower as a result of their disorder. I'm not saying you're an ableist, but please don't make not being hygienic an insult. Also, assuming someone doesn't shower because they disagree with you or do something you don't like is unfair and strange.
3. Again, ableism (and again not assuming you're an ableist). People with the disorders I've listed above and many other disorders struggle with hobbies either becoming too much or too little. Please don't make hobbies a sign of worth in someone's life because you just ruin it for the people who can't engage in hobbies. And I do have hobbies, I read books, I sing, I dance, I do diamond art, I write fanfiction, and I draw.
4. It's not "CP" it's CSEM. "CP" is the word predators use to describe it to make it seem like just another porn category, which it isn't. Accusing someone of possessing CSEM with no proof simply because they're a proshipper is strange as well, you only make it harder for people to take actual cases of predatory behavior seriously because everyone is tired of hearing "fictional CSEM" and assume it's just that over and over. And, in my country at least, as long as fictional works do not include an IRL minor, are inspired by an IRL minor, or resemble an IRL minor, it's perfectly legal to have/make.
ya having porn of children is totally legal and shows that you are NOT a pedophile and that you DON'T need to be locked up.
also taking a shower isn't an insult....?
therapists also never want you to post that shit online cause there are some people who have disabilities (but y'know, not assuming your ableist) and try to reinact.
Again, fictional works are not "porn of children" and no children are harmed in the making of fictional scenarios.
You were using it as an insult by assuming I don't shower because we have disagreeing opinions.
If someone tries to reinact a harmful scenario IRL that was made in fiction, that's not the result of a disorder, that's the result of being predatory.
My therapist has no problem with me posting about it.
If you're just going to come onto my blog to insult me, please just don't interact with me. I did nothing to bother or upset you, I stayed in my own space.
other than one being fake, what's attractive about them? Cause obviously if you're writing trying to justify why writing pro pedophilia fanfics is okay, then it's more than it just being "cute". I honestly think you're trying to jack off to children with no legal consequences.
I don't think I would like to tell someone who I don't know why I like what I like sexually.
I hope someday you understand that as long as no one is harmed in the making of something, it's harmless.
I hope you have a good day, but I'd prefer not to debate someone who's entire blog is dedicated to hate and negativity anymore. Because it's useless at the end of the day, neither of us are going to change our opinions. I hope one day you can learn how to live alongside those with different opinions than yours and learn that at the end of the day, we are all people. I think we should both stay in our own spaces and tolerate one another on this site and never interact again.
infantdisposal @infantdisposal - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
