Chapters Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity
Memory - Do Me A Favor, Darling?
Normally, this little lakeside spot that Anon had picked out for himself was quiet. Not many Ponies trudged to this section of the forest, being a short hike from the town, and a smidge too close to the Everfree for most Ponies tastes. It even took some hefty convincing of Fluttershy that he was similar to her 'Mister Bear' and needed fish and such to eat, but he did it. He had the spot, he had the means, and nobody had any objections.
Currently laid out on a lawnchair, an idle grill awaiting a fresh catch to his left, his fishing rod stuck into the ground with some rocks to his right. He was relaxed. Comfortable. Naut but softly rustling trees, a quiet lake, a nearly-clear sky, and a pack of coolers in an ice box beside his chair.
The day could not get better. He sips quietly on some light Equestrian spirit, with an alcoholic percentage incomparable to his own world. For the flavor at this point, since a pack of the things wouldn't leave a dent on him. He's dressed in his usual; shorts. Sandals. A big, colorful shirt. Bucket hat.
You wouldn't be able to guess what Anon had been up to before he got dropped in Equus.
If you guessed Fishing, you were right. Everything that was on him came with him, not including his beloved fishing rod. He had to secure a new rod, new lawn chair, new grill; but with enough favors passed around, he eventually got settled. Had his own little place closer to the edge of town and everything. The most notable thing that came with him, was his smartphone.
He fishes (ha) it out of his pocket, checking the time. Nice, early morning. Anon nods to himself, content.
The Phone didn't need to be charged; something about the ambient magic in the air being enough to keep the battery full, like it was always plugged in. That was super cool; if he could get any data. No cell phone towers in Equus. No bars. Still, good for taking pictures of his catches; his phone gallery was full of the Fish, and Ponies he'd caught. If he had a nickel for every Pegasi he caught while throwing out his line, he'd have two nickels. Rainbow-Dash shaped nickels. And a fair amount of pictures of sheepish looking CmC's, caught in the act.
A sound tickles his unbothered, moisturized, happy ears as he tucks his phone away. Anon hears a pair of distant, closing in voices from the path to Ponyville, both easily recognizable. Shifting in his chair to lean and look over his shoulder, Rarity emerged from the bushes, definitely not dressed for hiking, followed shortly by Sweetie Belle.
Rarity had a big sunhat with a fashionable sash tied around it, that ran down under her chin to keep it on firmly; which said hat also seemed intent on collecting every stick and leaf that she came into contact with, nearly turning her into a ghille suit with the amount it collected on the way over. Good thing she had those big orange glasses of hers on, or she might have been able to see where she was going, Anon snorts to himself.
Sweetie Belle wasn't wearing anything that would catch on branches, like the smart little Filly she was. Well, she usually didn't wear much anyway. Most of the Ponies that weren't Rarity, also did not usually wear anything.
Sweetie was probably far more used to the woods than her sister, thanks to her more rural-minded friends and their little escapades.
But out of absolutely ANY Pony he expected to track him down, Rarity was not one he'd been expecting even slightly. This should be interesting.
"Oh, goodness -- it feels like I'm hauling one of Applejacks wagons of Apples with my head. Sweetie Belle, sweetie; do I have anything from this dreadful forest on me?" Rarity mutters quite loudly, trying to peer past the brim and get a look at herself.
Sweetie Belle giggles, carefully using her magic to pluck a leaf from the hat. Then another. Then another. Then another. It takes them a long minute, both of them dutifully either plucking the other clean, or waiting patiently to be plucked. If their white fur and mane style didn't allude one to the fact they were sisters, the way they both so easily locked into a task said it just as loudly.
Anon has enough time to crack open another cold one, sipping quietly, watching the water again.
After several long moments...
"There we go!" Sweetie Belle squeaks, tossing aside a final twig.
"Is that all of them? Delightful. You're a gem, Sweetie Belle. Now, come along. I heard that this is where Anon... aha." Rarity hums, likely noticing him and his chair.
He can hear their hoof steps approaching. At this point, the fishing -- somehow -- is an afterthought, the curiosity of just what Rarity might want bubbling at him.
She trots into view beside himself, opposite his cooler, clearing her throat. Sweetie Belle squeezes in beside her, standing further down his lawn chair, giving him a little wave.
Anon returns the little wave.
"Mister M--" Rarity starts.
"Hey Rares, Sweets. Didn't ever expect to see you out here." Anon hums, nestling his arms behind his head.
Rarity purses her lips, giving him a look.know how I feel about being interrupted, Anonymous."
Ooh, his full name. He purses his lips, making a little zipper motion. This appeases Rarity, who huffs huffily, clearing her throat again.
"I apologize for intruding on your... I believe you called it 'Ensuring The Fish Remain Fearful' time, but I've something to ask of you." Rarity begins again, as Sweetie Belle gets settled, watching the water.
"I'm surprised you remembered. Didn't I mention that in passing weeks ago?" Anon chuckles.
"Of course I remember, Anon. We might not agree on where the energy of passion should be placed, but I can respect the... consistency, of your choices." Rarity huffs, glancing over the lake. He wasn't all that different from Spike, really. Like a bigger Spike, if he didn't have a job. A different diet and a different mindset from Ponies; but still a good individual. That's why she felt she should at least give this... rather outlandish idea of Sweetie's a shot.
"Huh. Well, if you're willing to hike out to find me like this, must be important. Lay it on me, Rarity." Anon pushes, drawing Rarity's attention back to himself. He'd offer her a cooler, but that wasn't her style. She was a Wine gal, and he didn't have any of that in his icebox... he does have juiceboxes though. He pulls a pair of them, holding them out.
Sweetie smiles, quick to grab one up, squeaking in thanks. Rarity hesitates, clearly about to say no... but the hike might've kicked a little more out of her than she expects. She glances back and forth, ensuring nobody or nopony else is around (Spoiler: there isn't) before taking it. Anon watches the two juiceboxes float around in a blue and lime colored magical grasp.
"Mm. Thank you, Anon. Not my usual, but... goodness, I'm not sure how you find enjoyment in all that trudging through trees." Rarity sighs after nearly downing the juicebox in one. Damn.
"I'm a nature guy." He shrugs simply. "Love the outdoors. Good, uh... source of inspiration for natural beauty. While I might enjoy just looking at it, I'm sure you can relate to using it as inspiration."
"Very true." She nods, placing the juicebox on the grass, refreshed. Sweetie Belle still quietly slurps on hers, eyes flicking between them. "Now... about my question. and spare me some patience, if you don't mind? It's a bit of an... odd request." Rarity sighs softly; Anon can already tell she's preparing 'The Big Blues', the way she's working her own mane with her hooves. Her big, tear-dappled wobbly eyes. Hardly a Male in existence that can resist it. He's seen it done to Spike a thousand times.
"If you do the eye thing, I'm gonna go back to fishing." Anon warns, holding up a finger. Sweetie Belle glances over, making an 'Oop' noise.
Rarity pauses the nervous stroking of her own mane, stomping her hoof down, huffing.
"...Right. Well, don't flap those eyelashes, keep those eyes dry; and my patience, and the floor, are all yours." Anon hums, reaching over to take a sip of his drink.
She scoffs playfully, but relents. "...Very well. Though I'm still most uncertain of your insinuations." Rarity clears her throat, trying to tilt her head back and look presentable. She's oddly nervous; there's a crack in that confidence she usually struts around in.
"I... would not ask you this, if I had any other options." Rarity begins. Strong start, saying that he's her last resort. But, he said she had the floor. Anon doesn't interrupt, watching and listening quietly.
"The girls are all busy. And... there's nobody else I can ask. Spike would, gladly, but... I can't take him." She continues, sighing. Alright, now he's getting interested. He sips.
"You remember the Gala, don't you?" She asks.
"Mmhm." Anon nods. Hard not to. He got roped into going, and mostly slaughtered the edible parts of the buffet table.
"Despite the... generous amounts of chaotic behavior, one of the Nobles found time to be smitten by my dress, and asked me about it. They passed word along... and I was invited to Canterlot, to discuss my work with them." Rarity continues.
"Hey, congrats. That's big for you, yeah? Need me to watch the Boutique or something?" Anon raises his drink in a little cheers. He was pretty sure her big thing was wanting to move to Canterlot; so that was pretty big for her. Sweetie lifts her own juicebox to join in on the cheers, Anon tapping it with his drink. Rarity rolls her eyes, bemused.
"Not quite, though the offer is appreciated. No, I already had the meeting; It went well. Stupendously well, even." Rarity affirms, puffing her chest.
"Hey, good to hear." Anon congratulates. "So whad'ya need from me?"
Rarity purses her lips. Now or never, Rares.
"Right. So you've got a solid theme to work with; knowing you, I doubt that's the issue." Anon nods along. She was really beating around the bush with this one.
"Glad you can agree on the obvious, Darling. No, the issue is... I may have been a touch overzealous in my promises. Not that I offered to take on too much work -- you know me much better than that, and no workload is too much for myself. No, I..." She trails off again. Normally, the playful flirt came natural to her. Bat her lashes, lean close, hoof on their chest, and mutter something about being a weak little mare, and how big and strong of a stallion they were.
Unfortunately, her usual wiles, like batting her big blues, played little effect on Anon. Whenever she needed help, he still offered it no matter how she asked, of course -- he was undoubtedly a gentleman. He was just a... lazy one that couldn't be swooned. He'd watched Sweetie Belle, kept her out of trouble; favors had been plentiful between them, so that wasn't the issue. Perhaps he was just... Rarity's thoughts trail off, distracting her.
Anon sips quietly, waiting for her to speak. His feet rock back and forth, sprawled across a lawn chair. She can't help but look at his garish fashion, those socks defying the natural form of his sandals. It was really hard to imagine him stepping up to the role... but his exotic stature might help negate. Maybe --
Sweetie Belle rolls her eyes. This was taking way too long.
Rarity sputters, spinning to glare at Sweetie Belle. "Sweetie Belle!" She hisses, betrayed. Sweetie Belle glances away sheepishly.PRETEND date, Sweetie -- let's not forget to clarify, lest we allude falsities to our dear Anon, here. Please. " Rarity quickly covers, waving her hooves. Anon still has yet to respond, sipping quietly. He's pretty sure he saw this kind of trope on TV before. Rarity was probably expecting some kind of reaction, the way she's staring at him.
"...Did you promise you were bringing a date or something?" Anon asks, mostly just confused.
"I-I overpromised. By, erh... quite a bit. Said that my own partner would be delighted at the idea of attending. And... how much they would help with the event, and showcasing my dresses." Rarity continues, sighing heavily, rubbing her temples with her hooves. "Honestly, I don't know what overcame me to make such claims. Probably just to enjoy how surprised they looked, that such a workaholic like myself landed such a willing partner."
"Alright, I can see the problem. But you need me for this... why? You know the fashion sphere isn't my deal, for one; and I'm sure there's plenty of guys who'd love to 'pretend' to be your date." Anon asks, incredulous.
"Listen, Anon. Darling! I'm to meet with some of THE most NOTABLE of Nobles in Canterlot for a Princess Of Love Themed Dinner Meet. There is not a single free Stallion that I could ask in this town, that wouldn't get caught up in a messy game of feelings, and end up hindering me more than helping me. Everyone I could ask is busy. You, Darling, are my LAST resort, recommended by Sweetie Belle, that I know could actually help me with this without making it... weird." Rarity exclaims, exasperated; she's even scooted closer to his chair.
He wonders if he should be offended by that, being her last choice. Then again, he was about the most opposite of what she'd be looking for out of the situation... and she did still ask him nonetheless. Put extra emphasis on how he wouldn't be weird about it, either.
"W-well, no, that wasn't my intention... but it certainly wouldn't hurt. The Nobles are quite interested in the oddities they don't normally see in Canterlot." Rarity affirms, looking a little more hopeful as he continues to talk about it. "You'd need to wear something of my own craft, but I'm sure you figured that already."
"Yeah, figured as much. Just don't make the pants too tight. When is this whole thing happening, anyway?" Anon asks, setting his drink down.
"Three days from now." Rarity sheepishly admits. Not a great heads up, but she'd spent most of it trying to find other Ponies to ask. "The Outfits are ready, transportation is scheduled... I'm just lacking my supposed Partner."
Anon's face scrunches in thought. He pulls out his phone, checking his calendar.
"Look good, and make me look good, Darling. That's all I ask. In exchange --" Rarity finds herself cut off again, huffing.
"No exchange, I'll help you out." He waves dismissively, grunting quietly as he pushes up to his feet. This seems to override her initial upset of being cut off again, tilting her head curiously.
"Really?! You will?" Rarity exclaims, surprised. It definitely wasn't something even remotely close to his norm, but she'd been met with so much resistance, she'd all but resigned herself to a shameful admittance or an excuse that would slander her word. "Well, I absolutely cannot accept not paying you back in kind, Anonymous -- you certainly must allow me to at least pay you for your efforts, or something!" Rarity retorts, stamping her hoof.
"You wouldn't pay your Partner to be there, Rares." Anon rebuts, starting to stretch. He'd been sat for a while, needed to get springy again.
"Obviously, but you're not my-- hrm. Feels a bit... rude, to point it out so heavily." Rarity huffs.
Anon chuckles, throwing her a playful grin. "Pretend date, no feelings caught, I get it. Still, wouldn't be right to try and squeeze you about this when you're basically asking your last option for help." If she'd come to him about the idea earlier, maybe he'd have taken a six-pack or something in exchange. Didn't feel right to take anything from her when she basically came to him as her last resort. She was a good sort; didn't deserve that.
"I'm not going to let you get away with doing this for nothing, Anon. This is a big deal for me, and you're doing me a massive favor! So I must recompense you. That is non-negotiable, I'm afraid." Rarity states firmly, unbudging. Despite being the Element of Generosity, she was particularly bad at receiving acts of Charity from those she actually needed help from.
"Alright, alright." Anon reaches down, slapping his socked toes with his fingertips in a looong stretch. He knew that tone; she wasn't gonna budge. "Uh... Canterlot has some good places to eat, I'd bet. Buy me some grub after the whole Love-Dinner thing; I doubt either of us will find a chance to eat until it's over." He relents, before standing tall again, pressing his fists into his lower back. That's the spot.
Rarity taps her chin, humming. "...Very well, Anon. That sounds like a fine and thankful way to round the evening. I've scouted a few locations for potential meetings with Nobles, so I think I can recall a few that would... cater to your preferences." She grins, that familiar Rarity-Confidence swelling again now that she had things secured.
"So, we leave for Canterlot in two days so we have time to set up, and the event happens in three? What time do you want me to swing by to get fitted?" Anon guesses, but tilts his head as Rarity shakes hers.
"We've the morning and afternoon to set up only, I'm afraid; so it will be quite the busy day. I know I asked for your help during the event, but... I may need your heavy participation in the days leading up to it, as well. I sincerely hope that I haven't rudely sprang that on you now that you've agreed, Darling." Rarity informs; Anon sees that crack of concern forming again.
Anon hums, crossing his arms.
He pulls out of his phone, dramatically scrawling the calendar. Sweetie Belle rolls her eyes; she knows he's not up to a damn thing.
"...Giving up three whole days of fishing." Anon hums bluntly, throwing a hefty stare at Rarity. "I don't know..."
Rarity taps her hooves together, sweating -- until Anon grins.
"You cannot do that to me, Darling, or you're going to ruin my foundation. Wheugh." She huffs heavily, relieved, nearly sprawling on the ground -- she catches herself, though. A pretty white coat like hers simply cannot get stained by the grass. Green was not her color. At least, not with this getup. "Tomorrow, bright and early would be perfect, and we can get you measured and fitted. I've already got a suit half-crafted for you -- one of my prior attempts to get you into something less... dreadful. No offense."
"None taken, as usual." Anon chuffs. She was never quiet about her feelings towards his taste in fashion, but she's sewn up his belongings enough that he's learned to just take the disgruntlement. Makes her happier.
"Delightful. I'm terribly appreciative of this, Anon; I shan't forget it anytime soon. Come along, Sweetie Belle; we'd best get you home." Rarity calls, rising to her hooves and trotting for the path.
Sweetie quickly chases after her sister, waving to Anon before the pair delve back into the brush to return to Ponyville. Anon can still hear the odd 'Oop' or 'Oh Dear' as they become distant and quieter, likely needing to repeat their whole pluck-clean process once they got back.
The quiet, low-wind rustling of the trees and near-still water of the lake are all that's left for Anon. His rod sits quiet, unbothered by fish, his grill idle, his chair now Anon-less.
He picks up their drank juiceboxes, tossing them in his icebox as he starts to pack.
Maybe it was a good thing the Fish weren't biting -- he shudders at the idea. As horrible of a train of thought that was, Anon hadn't gotten up to much at all in the last while, Ponyville being pretty quiet. Which meant something probably problematic would rear its ugly head soon enough. He actually had some energy to burn, too. Maybe this little Canterlot jaunt might even be fun, and help him avoid the latest mess, if he was lucky.
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Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity
Memory - A Smidge Early, Wouldn't You Say, Darling?
Rarity
Rarity slowly trudges through the dimly lit Boutique, wet mane wrapped up in a fluffy pink towel. She stifles a yawn with her hoof as she dries off slowly from her shower. A magic-powered blow dryer idly chases her, whirring softly as it exudes a jet of warmth. It's encased in a blue glow and carefully avoids the face mask smeared over her snout and under her eyes.
A familiar and unwelcome warmth rises in her chest. Quietly, she groans to herself in self-reproach. In her tense, frantic worry to find somepony to help preserve her promise, (and not oust herself as a liar,) she'd forgotten to track the start of her heat.
One couldn't always avoid it aligning with something significant. In this case, the Canterlot Event will kick off just within the start of her season. It won't be fun, at all, but she can manage. She doesn't lack for means to stifle it such as herbal remedies from Zecora, supplements to help mute it from Nurse Redheart, and... taking care of it herself.
The sun has barely risen, only the faintest cracks of light starting to worm their way through her curtains. Such was the norm for Rarity; ever the studious workmare, tackling the early morning is something she'd done for years. Rarity rises early, works hard, and returns to bed early. Sure, it may not be exactly the best routine for her social life; but she can have one of those later. She has a fastidious morning routine, after all; being the most beautiful mare in Ponyville does not come easy, and she has no plans to relinquish the self-imposed title.
She meanders into the kitchen, stifling a second, fiercer yawn, mumbling 'Oh, Goodness' to herself afterward, as she mulls over the question of breakfast. An important meal, and one she should partake in quickly and effectively; perhaps a bagel, or something else simple...
She has some time before Anon is to arrive. Knowing him and his penchant for taking life simply, he won't be around until late morning, perhaps even noon at the earliest, if she is lucky--
Knock knock knock.
She goes still as she hears the muffled announcement of a caller at the Boutique door, her yet-to-be-eyelined eyes wide. The solitary morning hour of the Boutique has been shattered and her blow dryer clicks off. Who could that be? She didn't have any pony scheduled for fittings or work to be done until after the whole Canterlot ordeal. No events are occurring in Ponyville... no holidays or public get-togethers for another few weeks, at least. The only ponies regularly up and about this early are the Apples.
Rarity quietly slinks to the front door of the Boutique, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, softly clearing her throat. Goodness, she could use a coffee. She unlatches the lock with her magic, cracking the door open ever so slightly.
"Apologizes, but the Boutique isn't open at this..." She begins to speak, her polite business voice meticulously unstrained with how drowsy she still feels. It promptly trails off as she peers through the crack -- eyes slowly trailing up once they espy legs. Familiar, shorts-bound bipedal legs, and not a pony's face.
She stares up at Anon, blinking several times. He's dressed like he always is, as if he were plucked from yesterday and dropped directly in front of her now, just in an alternate color. Dressed, awake -- did he smell of Honeysuckle? Was he holding a pair of coffees?
"Morning, Rarity. Did uh... I lean a little hard on the 'Early' part? Sorry, just got up at my usual." He chuckles.
"EEP!" Rarity squeaks, the door slamming shut in his face. She presses up against the back of the door, eyes wide in panic. She wasn't ready to see ANYPONY yet, least of all HIM. Oh, buck... she can't just send him away, though -- she had been the one to ask him to come here, and that would be the rudest thing. Drat it all -- she'll have to rush her morning routine, as much as she despises doing such. Beauty is a meticulous thing of care, attention, and craftsponyship, meant to be addressed as the serious and vital thing it is. Though... she has done some of her best work on the rush. Perhaps she --
"Everything alright?" Rarity hears from the other side of the door. She hadn't even dried off enough yet to START THINKING about her foundation.
Anon
Anon blinks a few times, waiting. Was this not bright and early? He squints over the horizon of Ponyville, at the slowly rising sun, just barely peeking over the edges of the houses. If it wasn't? Damn. What a hardworking woman, that Rarity.
His head turns back as the door to the Boutique slowly cracks open again, barely a smidge now, Rarity completely hidden behind the door.
"Y-yes, darling, this is bright and early! I just didn't expect you so... well, early!" He hears, slightly muffled.
Rarity
On one hoof, she absolutely abhors that he was witnessing her before she was even on the first step towards being presentable. Her mane and fur were still damp, she had her face mask on, her eyelashes weren't in, and she didn't have so much as a hint of makeup; by all accounts she was HIDEOUS. What she wants to do, and what she should do, is shriek, slam the door, quickly panic... well, already got those done -- and throw everything on in a stressful mash, then re-open the door as if nothing happened. The only times she'd ever been caught like this were by Twilight and Applejack. (One of whom doesn't go to bed until daylight half the time, and one who rises so early as to shame the sun.) Both had commented on her morning appearance; both had given her reason to never be caught unawares by judgmental observers again.
On the other hoof, she did say bright and early, without clarifying deeper, after asking for his help. And here he was. And he just smiles at her, waiting patiently.
Hang on a moment...
"...Pardon, but, your usual?" Rarity repeats, incredulous. The door cracks open ever so slightly more, Rarity peering out at him with a single, inquisitive bright-blue eye.
Anon
Huh, so she wore fake lashes.
Rarity
"You always get up at this time? I'm having trouble believing it, if you'll forgive me for saying so. I've never seen you roaming Ponyville this early." She insists, watching him curiously.
"Well duh. I'm at the lake before most ponies are ever up. Only pony I ever see this early is Applejack. Fish are real active right around now. Same in the late evenings; though I prefer getting up early to staying up late." Anon shrugs. He does live on the edge of town. He wouldn't need to cut through Ponyville just to head to his "usual".
Rarity purses her lips before her gaze locks on what's in his hooves--er, hands. The two coffee cups. Two. Not one. Two.
"Huh? Yeah, Sweetie Belle told me what kind of coffee you like." He didn't buy brewed coffee, so he wasn't familiar with the whole ordering process. He either brewed his own or got a treat instead; his cup was actually filled with hot chocolate. He takes a comfortable sip. "The uh... Hazelnut Low-Fat... Skim... swear I had the proper name when I was in line at Hoofbucks."
"...That's very sweet of you, Anon, but I'm not... erh. Decent, shall we say?"
"Want the coffee and I'll come back later?" Anon offers, shrugging.
Rarity huffs to herself. That was... nice of him. Coffee. Willing to arrive early as asked. Willing to wait.
Oh, enough of it, Rarity -- you asked the fellow to come over bright and early, and he did. You asked him to help you with your soiree and to pretend to be your partner. Seeing you before you've finished your morning prep... Well, he's probably going to see far more of you while you're at your less-than-best through this whole ordeal.
It's a long moment of consideration. Even now, Anon just stands there, waiting patiently, sipping his own beverage.
Oh, for Celestia's sake. Just get him in here.
"You wouldn't mind? I don't want to just... chase you away after asking you to come by. Oh... forgive my language, darling, but buck it. Get inside, before someone sees and rumors start to swirl. You know how this town gets." Rarity proclaims, steeling her nerves, and opening the door.
Anon obligingly ducks inside, and the door is promptly slammed shut behind him.
He's never seen the Boutique with so few lights on; the open main floor is lit only by a single sconce, sunlight barely filtering in past the hefty curtains.
Rarity trots a few feet back from the door, turning to face him. Her mane is swirled up in a big blue towel, a single loose bang peeking below it. A blow dryer floats, waiting, in her magic and her exposed fur is noticeably still fairly damp, likely only just out of the bath. Her face is plastered with a lime-green 'mask' of whatever facial treatment she employs, and her tail lacks its iconic bouncy curl.
"Well; soak it in, darling. Get the jokes out of the way." She huffs expectantly, standing as if she's presenting herself to him, chest puffed. Combating embarrassment with confrontation?
To Rarity, this was something embarrassing that she only dared expose about herself because the upcoming Event simply meant THAT much to her. Other than the Spa sisters, nopony else in town put near as much effort into their self-care; the odd time she'd been spotted mid-routine, she'd been the target of mild ridicule. She fully expected the same here.
Anon
Anon blinks. Jokes?
In front of him is Rarity. She just got out of the shower, probably, so she was still wet. Had her hair in a towel, and was in the middle of doing her morning preparations.
Her appearance was pretty important to her. Was she... embarrassed? She was kind of the only pony that put this much effort into her looks, around here. No other pony was dragging around lounge chairs to dramatically sprawl on them.
"...I think out of all the skincare products I've tried, I remember preferring the... I think it was an agave face cream? Dunno if you guys have that plant." Anon clicks his tongue, face scrunching as he tries to remember. "Grew up with sisters, so I've been subjected to a few beauty sessions. Anyway -- You want me to set your coffee down somewhere for you?"
Rarity
Rarity stares back, blinking slowly. That was the last thing she'd expected to be uttered by the man. Hide and fur care products were something she could talk to almost nopony else about. Applejack? Rarity had enough trouble getting her to brush her hooves before coming inside. Rainbow Dash? Never heard the words. Pinkie Pie? All natural, and one of the few things Rarity was jealous about. Twilight? Honestly, she could use a good education on the subject but it was outside her area of research. Fluttershy? The minimal; her focus was all about manecare only. Rarity's only outlet was on the monthly spa day she only just managed to drag Applejack to, when she could chat with the Spa sisters.
"Uh... on the table, if you wouldn't mind, dear." She answers quietly. She half expects him to crack a smirk or something the moment he's past her; nothing. He just sits her cup down, turns and faces her.
"Ooh--mind if I hog a lounge chair? They look seriously comfortable." He asks simply, leaning to peek past her -- like he wasn't already tall enough to just look straight over her. "Y'know, while you do your thing."
"Uh...huh." Rarity mumbles. Her brain is currently trying to process the radical change to the mental description she'd assigned to the man. The man who now politely stood in her Boutique, at her request, offering her a coffee, and offering no judgment.
As he sits, relaxing on one of her waiting-area chairs, his own drink in hand; he pulls out that odd little box he claims is a phone, and starts poking at it.
"...Of course. Thank you, Anon, I'll... be just a few minutes." Rarity replies, slowly shuffling back towards the stairs to resume her morning preparations.
Throughout the next half hour of her prep, every several minutes, she peeks through the open doorway of the staircase, staring at Anon.
He's still there, patiently and quietly waiting, engrossed with his phone, glancing around the Boutique; at one point, she even sees him inspecting one of the in-progress dresses hanging on one of her stands. From a polite distance. Without touching.
She may have had his type allotted entirely incorrectly. It's not as though they had done much more than chat for a few moments... In point of fact, she didn't know him nearly as well as she previously assumed. Written off as a simple, lazy creature.
And now he's napping, snoring on her couch, contorted into a comical position. Well, the lazy part might still be true, but she didn't think quite so low of him for it, now. She appreciates not having to be rushed through her usual; she liked to wake up so early so she could give it time to do it right.
Eventually, a much more publicly recognizable Rarity emerges from the second floor; her richly purple mane and tail have their familiar curved bounce, and her stainless coat is as soft as can be. Her hooves are freshly painted and trotting down and cross to the coffee Anon had left for her. Almost cold, now, but no matter; she'll warm it up in a few moments.
She considers waking him up... but she doesn't need him quite yet. In fact, it presents her the opportunity to counter-gift; she could prepare him a light breakfast in the meantime, lay out the preliminary articles he's to wear, and then finally wake him up for measurements. Simple.
Resolute and more confident in her plans, Rarity steps to it.
The coffee, poured into a pot, is set on the stove to warm up a bit, as Rarity sets about preparing the Boutique for the day's work. Her task at hoof: to transform the strange, furless alien snoring on her couch into an exotic appeal. One to leave all the Nobles clamoring and wowed.
Lights flick on as her tools float through the shop to her workstation, wisping and twirling with her magic. An old, unfinished project is pulled out of a tucked-away box, followed by several bolts of fabric.
Anon is male, so she will lean on Stallion fashion for her original plans. Something simple, something clean, something that will not contrast too sharply against his unusual features. Something that will bring a recognizable style to the wary eyes of Canterlot's nobility. Shortly, she settles on formalwear. Specifically, a Tuxedo. A coat, a vest, a dress shirt, slacks, a bow tie; and urgently, some more fitting hoof--footwear than... those disgraceful sandals. That article may be a daunting task, considering the oddness of his appendage compared to more familiar hooves.
Only once Rarity has everything set up and ready does she float her coffee from the kitchen. Hot once again, the coffee leaves her sighing deeply in contentment.
Mental checklist time, you vibrant specimen, you, Rarity hums to herself. Miss Rarity? Stunning. Anon's Suit? Awaiting. Reheated Coffee? Sipped.
She was ready. With her head held high, it was time to work.
She finally trots over to the couch, nudging the snoring Anon's side with her hoof several times. As expected, it takes a fair amount of nudging to stir him. The way he's contorted, body twisted about and limbs sticking out at odd angles, leaves her confused as to how in the world he could possibly be comfortable.
"Schn-huh?" Anon eventually snorts, neck cranked to awkwardly look over his shoulder. "Oh. Hi Rarity," he mumbles through a yawn.
"Hello, darling. Your patience, and the coffee, are deeply appreciated. Ready to be measured?" She hums, waggling her mane with a dramatic hair flip.
Anon
There's the Rarity he recognizes.
With a grunt, Anon slowly kilters off the couch, straightening out and squeezing in a quick stretch. Under Rarity's direct guidance, he meanders up onto the pedestal, as several tools rise to float around him; measuring tapes, pins, scissors, and the half-finished pieces of what looks like a Tuxedo. He even catches a peek of his own finished cup being chucked across the room, into a very decorated bin.
"Now, I need you to..." Rarity starts to hum; she taps her chin with a hoof, trying to realize what she's envisioning.
"Pose me as needed; like one of those funky little articulated art dolls." Anon helpfully offers, sticking his arms out.
"Noted. Well, first we're going to need you out of those clothes. I can't get proper measurements with them in the way." Rarity dutifully informs.
"Suppose not, huh. Must be the norm for you guys, yeah?" Anon asks, glancing down at his own attire. Right, forgot about that part.
"For measurements? Absolutely. For day to day? I know you've seen that clothing isn't something terribly in demand around these parts... something I've long spent trying to remedy." Rarity imparts, huffing.
"Sometimes I forget you guys are cool with walking around naked all day. You alright if we call it at my unders?" Anon inquires, working the buttons of his egregiously colored, baggy floral shirt.
"Call it at your... pardon?" Rarity asks, unsure of what he means. All these buttons would be a nightmare for any pony that wasn't a unicorn. No wonder zippers were more popular.
"Remember when I got a bulk pack of those little mini-pants, or whatever you called them from you?" Anon chimes, getting the last button off. Pulling it off himself and looping out his arms, he scrunches the shirt into a ball, tossing it aside.
He starts working on the shorts, waiting for a response. She doesn't say much at all; must be waiting for him to keep going.
"If it's cool with you, I'd like to keep those on at least. Pretty form fitting so they shouldn't affect measuring, but I don't have uh... well, if I walk around without them, it'd be in your face the whole time, the way you guys come up to my waist." Anon continues to explain. Shorts, also balled up and tossed. Socks. Sandals. Soon, he has only his underwear between himself and standing completely in the buff.
Hey, felt pretty good knowing he could just rock out naked without being judged for it. Well, not that he was going to, but still.
With his clothing pile finalized, he looks back to Rarity expectantly.
Man, her eyes are wide. And she's been silent for a good minute now.
He shuffles forward, leaning down to poke her nose. It's like he just restarted her engine, she gasps quietly and starts up at him.
Rarity
"Y-yes! Absolutely!" a few octaves higher than usual. She quickly recovers, chastising herself under her breath. Ushering Anon back to the center of the pedestal, she uses her hooves and tools to direct him into various poses, taking different measurements for his odd body. She'd always based her previous work for him off the clothes he provided; this was her first time actually sitting him down for a full set of measurements. None of the results so far are outside what she expected, but it is past time for a proper fitting.
Anon dutifully follows every nudge and instruction, his mind idly wandering. Presumably to fishing, and... whatever it is he does with the fish after that? It's a simple enough task on his end, holding things as needed. He spaces out, apparently content with the silence.
Rarity, however, is a turbulent mess who tries to bury what just happened through fervently forced focus, hiding numerous slips and duplicate measurements under as much of her professional mask as she can. There's only one thing racing through her mind, as she does her best to properly size the human.
Sweet Celestia, was he built.
The moment he took that disgusting florescent color wheel of a shirt off -- Chiseled.
Mythologically so. Statues were jealous of his stony physique. It was likely a blasphemous comparison-- but he was self-evidently the Human version of the same physical perfection Celestia herself represented.
He always wears baggy clothes. Big, stupid shirts, and shorts that hung below the knees. Certainly, he has nice forearms, shapely calves -- but what the buck is this?! How did she never notice that he had THAT hidden underneath his garish tops and bland bottoms?!
She's a steaming, stewing mess of ill thoughts as she works Anon over. The start of her heat is not helping.
Every time she instructs him to turn one way or bend another, it backfires -- it's just another pose that teases her, another way for him to casually flex or shift in a way that she catches all-new angles of masculinity.
Anon, still, is none the wiser.
And now she's working with her hooves directly on his bare skin and ohmygodhismusclesaresofirmsweetbuckingcelestia.
Rarity can't help but bite her lip as she summons every remaining ounce of willpower contained in her body.
She's professionally worked on numerous ponies of a variety of builds before. This has never been an issue. Why does his still wearing his tiny pants make this feel worse than if he was naked?
She tells Anon to turn and face her, so she can --
Sweet Celestia, it's... right in her face. She's waist-height to him already as it is... goodness, it's straining the fabric. Did he say he doesn't have a sheath? It nearly taps her nose as she asks him to turn, making her flinch back. And the... scent...
Quick, small talk. You're a master of the quick, playful chatter, Rarity. Keep yourself distracted or you're going to spiral and STOPLOOKINGATIT--
"Darling, do you, er... work out?" She manages through gritted teeth.
"Not really. Just... hike a lot. Lift some heavy stuff. Eat good. Simple things that keep me in shape, y'know?" He shrugs, her eyes glued to his body's simplest movements.
"I... see." She was able to take it leisurely in her morning routine. Now, she's forced to rush, or she might not survive the morning. This is ridiculous. And she is absolutely, in NO way, shape, or form, a floozy, but this is ridiculous!
After an agonizing, grueling, unknowable length of time (thirty minutes) that seemingly tested the very limits of her self-control, Anon's suit is finally in a wearable state. It's not perfect. Not every seam is stitched and some minor parts still need another look-over, but it's enough to try on and see how it fits.
Anon finds the bundle of clothes promptly shoved into his chest, as he's spun around towards the changing room at the back of the Boutique.
"Oop?" He mumbles, glancing to Rarity.
She sighs to herself in relief as she exits the danger zone, finally achieving some distance from Anon and her personal musky Tartarus. She wasn't sure how much longer she could stand simply breathing him in. "Try these on, darling, and tell me how they fit! Quickly! But take your time!"
"Uh... yeah, sure thing, Rarity." Anon nods, stepping behind the saloon-style doors as they stop swinging, only his calves visible now.
And good sweet Celestia, what calv-- NO.
Rarity spins to look away. This is her breather. She needs to calm herself. Does she have time for a cold shower and a chance to redo all her makeup? Probably not. Ugh. She might have to stall him for a bit and steal away for a few moments to handle this. This is unbearable; she feels like she has been reverse-catfished.
While Anon gets dressed, Rarity tidies up a bit, doing her best to affirm her mindset before he returns, glancing out the window. A more familiar Ponyville morning is underway, with a few Ponies out and about in the pinkish glow sweeping the oversized village.
Oh, thank goodness, a distraction -- Spike is approaching, cutting through the plaza to see her.
He can hardly knock on the front door before Rarity throws it open, greeting him. "Spike! Darling. What a delightful surprise! What has you visiting a little-- old-- myself like... such?"
"O-oh! Hey Rarity." Spike mumbles, surprised. "I know it's early, but I wanted to ask, since I've got some time off with Twilight being so busy... did you want to, uh... go get some gems from the mountain, or something?" He asks awkwardly, smiling.
"Oh, Spike, you're a darling -- but my gem stores are still full from our last trip." Rarity waves a hoof dismissively but with appreciation.
"O-oh. Okay. Uhh--" Spike stutters, tapping his claws together.
"Truly, what a gentleman to come and offer me your time on your day off! Very sweet of you, Spike, but I'm afraid I'll be quite busy for the next few days." Rarity explains, enjoying the breath of fresh air.
"Really? Can I help?" Spike perks up.
"Oh, no, everything is handled, dear. I'll be showing off my works at a Canterlot event, and I've already retained help for the matter. Anon has been a darling and agreed to assist me." Rarity explains. Wow, that 'darling' came out heavy, Rarity. Control yourself, girl. You are NOT that easy.
"Anon? Really? I thought you two didn't like each other?" Spike asks, surprised.
"Huh? Now what gave you that idea, Spike?" Rarity retorts, surprised.
"All the times you call him an uncultured, ill-dressed, fish-mongering brute--" Spike starts to list off, counting on his little fingers.
"W-well that was just... playful teasing, Spike! And you've no need to repeat that to anyone else. Ever. He's been a delight, and we get along just fine, thank you." Rarity corrects, huffing. He certainly didn't need to hear any of that -- those were uttered under her breath in a moment of privacy. Or so she thought.
"I thought you guys, like... didn't get along at all." Spike hums, scratching his chin. "The way you call him lazy, single-minded--"
"W-well you're very sweet to offer your help, Spike, but perhaps another day! Tata!" Rarity quickly cuts him off, slamming the doors shut and startling Spike.
She slides down the back of the door, sighing heavily -- a quick peek out the window confirms a disheartened Spike slowly trudging back to the library. Apologies, Spikey-Wikey, but those were playful jests mentioned in confidence, and have no business being aired out like that.
With a sigh, Rarity looks back --
Anon is sat only a few feet away, in the lounge section of her Boutique.
Worse yet, he's in the suit.
He...
Rarity was the furthest thing from prepared for what had walked out of that changing room.
https://images2.imgbox.com/04/1f/61FwxkWt_o.png
Her jaw nearly hits the floor, eyes wide.
"...A Fish-Mongering Brute, Hmm?" He idly comments, tilting his head back. There's a shift to his tone that wasn't there before; more gravel, more growl.
Rarity's ears flatten against her head. Oh, buck.
She tries to find words, between a stuttered mix of Darlings, Anons, and Dears. They remain lost.
Slowly, Anon approaches, stepping directly over the table.
Gulp.
She's still pressed, back against the door as Anon slowly walks closer, a swagger in his stride.
Rarity's heart is hammering in her chest.
He slowly kneels, bringing himself down to eye-level with her.
His hand presses against the door beside her head as he leans over her, tilting his head.
She's sweating profusely.
"...Such cold words for your Partner , Rarity. I think... an apology is in order."
Gulp.
The facade breaks, as Anon cracks a smile. "Just messing with you, Rares. Trying to find a good mindset for the whole Partner thing, since yeah -- a Fish-Monger like me probably wouldn't show up to an event like that." He snorts, rising back to his feet. "I don't mind that kind of stuff - mostly because it's all pretty accurate."
Rarity is... elsewhere.
Her heart is hammering in her chest, breath heavy. She'd been teetering the line, but that pushed her over the brink, her self-control shattered.
The mixture of getting caught with her own words, and being summarily approached in such a manner while her guard was down...
Rarity's stare is a thousand yards away, her mind entirely elsewhere. Namely, in a place where she is biting the collar of his shirt, while his hands roam her body, a brilliant streak of crimson blush stuck glued to her face as her chest rises and falls rapidly. The heat that was originally in her core has spread through most of her body.
"Honestly, I'm flattered you've got me figured so well." Anon snorts, joking; he's taking it quite well, a testament to his laid-back attitude.
Rarity's only response to that is to let her fantasy twist in turn, laid on the lap of a stoic, distance-staring Anon as his fingers --
"Or maybe, something more --" Anon starts.
He unfortunately doesn't get a chance to keep going, as a sweaty collection of makeup, white fur, and a purple mane tackles him to the floor.
Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity
Caught completely off guard, Anon falls backward with Rarity atop him, hitting the floor of the Boutique with a heavy thump.
What Rarity notices, however, is how he prioritized catching her over catching himself. That doesn't help the situation heightened tensions, nor her fantasies, as she can't help but note his hands tenderly holding her sides; where he caught her on impact.
Anon
Anon groans softly, lifting his head to look up from the floor, at -- oop.
Rarity is standing over him, face close to his own, panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll off her and land on his cheek. Her hooves are planted firmly on the floor astraddle his chest. His own hands are holding her sides, a result of trying to catch her when she suddenly lunged at him. She's very warm.
"You really ought to be more careful with how you behave towards a lady, Anon." Rarity states firmly, breathing heavily.
Anon, currently, is entirely lost and confused. This was no accidental fall, that's for sure. Is she angry?
"...You, uh... that's a nice... perfume?" Anon awkwardly offers; the two close enough that scent is the least of his concerns now. She smells... nice. A subtle hint of flowers, but this near, her own mild scent is unmistakable.
Rarity
He smelled delicious. Rarity leans low, taking a slow draw through her nostrils of his neck. Intoxicating, even.
"Char Deboigne, extracted from flowers from Saddle Arabia, Imported to Canterlot." Rarity answers bluntly. Her eyes are searching his face, roaming his... neck, his form, his look.
"...Right. You doing okay?" Anon tentatively fields.
"Terrific, Darling." She huffs, staring into his eyes. Mm. This was... exotic. Appealing. Perhaps that's what was setting her body off so... enthusiastically.
Anon
Anon purses his lips, meeting her gaze, unsure of what exactly to do here. This is odd for Pony behavior -- at least from what he's gotten used to. Is this something normal for Rarity, when she's out of the public eye?
"...I might need an explanation or two, here. I'm a tad confused." Anon requests.
"Of course, Darling. I... may have bucked up. Badly," she quietly admits, lips near his ear.
"How so?" Anon presses, curious.
"I shouldn't have invited you over." She relents.
"Something I said?" He asks, a tinge worried he'd overstepped.
"No--well, yes, but also no. I... are you familiar with how Ponies work, so to say, Anon?" She ruminates for a moment, circling the subject hesitantly. She bites her lip.
"Somewhat, yeah." Anon shrugs. Twilight explained the cultural, biological, bare-bones blah-blah basic stuff to him when he first got here, to help with the cultural differences. Originally, he'd only only asked about how fish work here, and got a full explanation instead. Good stuff to know, in hindsight.
"Have you heard of how mares go through heat?" She prompts.
"Uhh... yeah, I think so. That kind of thing exists for some species on my planet, too. Why?" Anon nods. Like Horses, funnily enough. Think Twilight skipped that part, though.
Wait.
"I've entered mine." Rarity bluntly states, her hot breath on his face, muzzle mere inches away. "Just started today, actually. Been so busy, I forgot to track it."
"Ahh. Need some alone time to get that figured out?" Anon offers; he gets it. No fun trying to handle this kind of thing when --
"Not at all, Darling." She states again, just as firmly.
"...I'm not quite sure I know how to help you with that one, unfortunately." Anon shies away. Was this a Pony thing he missed?
"Oh, I think you know exactly how, Darling. You can't work me up like that and just play it off." Rarity purrs.
"Oh."
"Mmhm."
"When I was on the pedestal..."
"Yes."
"And the hand on the..."
She practically shivers. "Oh, yes."
"...I thought heat was a thing between mares and stallions?" Anon questions.
"It seems I consider you... quite the stallion, Anon. I've never had it this intensely before. I'm usually quite stalwart against the urges; both from my own heat and working in proximity to stallions as my career demands. There's something different about you. I could hardly keep myself contained while I measured you, touched you, examined your... unclothed physique." Rarity explains, almost purring.
Anon purses his lips. "Huh. That's. Yeah, that's quite the predicament, huh."
Alright, so he accidentally worked up the single seamstress mare during her heat. Good job, Anon. Not that he could have known, but still.
"Indeed it is." She quietly affirms.
"...I think I've clued into the situation a little better now." Anon expounds, looped in.
"Have you? Delightful." She smiles. That is a hungry fucking smile.
They each stare at one another, Rarity still panting heavily as she looms over him, Anon still on his back on the Boutique floor.
Is... she waiting for the go-ahead? For him to make the first move? Huh.
"...Rarity," Anon says softly, breaking the silence.
"Yes, Darling?" She says back, just as soft.
"...Are you wanting me to help... relieve you during your heat?" Anon asks for final clarification. This seemed like a deadly situation to miss-assume.
"Well... considering that I've spent the entire time we remain together here on the floor imagining you rutting me to messy completion on every surface in my Boutique... Yes, I think I would deeply appreciate you assisting a lady, namely myself, in these matters." She explains with a dangerously sultry smile and half-lidded eyes.
Really not how Anon expected this whole favor to go. Should he have? Local single working mare invites him over to 'pretend' to be her 'partner'...
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about... that kind of thing with ponies before, but intrusive thoughts could only be dismissed for so long before you begin to seriously consider some things. You know, trapped in a whole new world with nobody else like you, you start to... look at some things differently. Admittedly, Twilight was the first one that came to mind, but she was the one he'd had the most interactions with, so that seemed normal enough.
But in Rarity's case... they'd been friendly acquaintances. Friends of friends. Invited to the birthday party as a plus-one type deal. So, Anon has never really looked at Rarity like... that.
Well, with her inches from his face, breathing hot air on him as she stares at him with an awkwardly desperate need? It's hard not to, now.
She's shorter than the average mare, and definitely curvier. She wears it well, though Anon remembers her describing what the ideal Canterlot type was like. What was her name, Floor Deli? Tall and thin, like an Alicorn. Probably why she puts so much effort into her appearance, and why this chance to enter Canterlot's ranks means so much to her; she's fighting against the standard.
"Darling, I can hardly think straight. As sweet as it is that you're so appreciative of my delicate form -- are you going to grab me up in your big arms, and rut me into the floor , or what?" She huffs, impatient.
That... catches Anon's throat for a second.
She's struck by heat, right? Making her act on feelings that might not truly be there.
He knew damn well Rarity wasn't an easy woman. Shit, he wasn't an easy guy, either. This entire situation felt a little off. Anon wasn't sure how comfortable he was with this. Not for himself... but in consideration for her.
Her nose hovers closer to his, breath hot on his face.
They didn't know each other that well, and the initial reason he came over didn't really keep to... this kind of premise.
Yet his eyes still linger. She has this... gorgeous white fur accented by her crystal blue cutie mark, which is probably nearly impossible to keep as clean as she does. Yet, she manages it. Her richly purple mane and tail have a bounce to them that she manages to recreate day after day without damage. Her makeup is flawless; sharp and even, eyeliner perfectly complimenting her eyes.
She backs up a little as Anon intently stares at her, all over her. Her brazen confidence seems to falter slightly. She wanted him to see her as a mare, and what she wanted was provided. Yet instead of the intended passion... he simply looks at her. He's conflicted, but...
Well, she's not exactly a stranger. And... it might the odd start to something.
"...You're a beautiful mare, Rarity." He whispers, hands tenderly sliding up her sides, one rising to stroke her cheek. If they are going through with this, he'll be doing it right.
Rarity
She was demanding a firm, brutish rut -- a hard fuck that made a mess of her mane and her entire Boutique. She was worked up and pent up.
Sure, she hadn't expected her invitation to go quite this way... but my, what a specimen. Exotic. Muscular. Gentlemanly. Normally, she'd never do this -- but working Mares made do.
Instead, her face is gently cupped, as tender lips softly meet her own. She tasted like coffee, for obvious reasons, but her lips were shockingly plush.
Well... she could work with that, too. Eager for physical reciprocation, Rarity meets his kiss with enthusiasm, her tongue tracing his teeth before slipping into his mouth, searching for his.
Anon
The rough mushing of their faces continues; but Anon wraps his arms around her in a supportive lift that's full of care, pulling her off her hooves and against his chest. Their kiss breaks just long enough for Anon to ask which way the bedroom is. Rarity points with a hoof before crushing her lips to his again.
Up the stairs, around the bend, and into a surprisingly quaint bedroom. Lavish still, obviously; Rarity takes her beauty sleep incredibly seriously, but it's definitely one of the smaller rooms in the Boutique. Makes sense, considering she spends most of her time working. A large bed, heavily blanketed and canopied, sits near to an oval window, draped with richly accented curtains. A dresser, a desk, a chair, each a solid wood and accented with metal handles and stumps. Still with only the morning glow peering through the window, Anon manages towards the bed.
Anon can feel her magic start to unbutton and slip off the very suit she'd put on him but moments prior, parts of it slinking off him and to the floor, leaving a clothing trail.
Putting a knee on the Pony-height bed and sinking into the mattress, he lays Rarity down across its covers, on her back, stomach to the air as the magic fades from her horn. A manicured hoof pats at his chest, as she stares at him with need. Now he's the one looming over her, and it's certainly having an effect as she squirms, rubbing her thighs together underneath him.
Anon can't help but feel responsible for this... but he doesn't just want to take advantage of the situation. Rarity deserves better than that.
"Rarity?" Anon whispers, propping an arm above her head as he leans down, stopping with his face close to hers.
"...Y-Yes, Darling?" Rarity manages to utter out, biting her lip as her gaze flickers between his arm and his face. She's plainly harboring a less than lady-like fascination in the size difference of his larger body looming above her, considering where her eyes keep roaming.
"Let me take you to dinner tonight?" He asks quietly.
Rarity
Rarity's thoughts halt, caught slightly off guard. Again. Of course, she got worked up by the one male in Ponyville who wouldn't just rut her silly from the get-go. "...I don't see why not. We should have time. Today was about getting you measured and your suit fit. Well, I'll be measuring something else, now, but... Won't you pleeease quit stalling? I'm in agony down here, Darling, and it's incredibly rude to keep a lady waiting."
Anon leans down, and Rarity perks up, ready for another kiss; instead, Anon's teeth find her shoulder, as he gently bites her soft fur.
Anon
Judging by the way she shivers and moans, she's into this kind of thing. Size difference, biting...
He splays his hand, fingers spread across her exposed chest, combing through her thicker but well trimmed barrel fur, on its slow journey lower. Every touch, every interaction, drives a reaction out of the panting mare. The way he traces down her underbelly to her exposed stomach, where the fur is fashionably short.
She is a shapely little thing, hips flaring out quite a bit, despite her 'stouter' build. Did she have some earth pony in her lineage? Anon hadn't really been looking before, but she was... he was enjoying rubbing his hand over her quite a bit. Plush was a good word to describe her.
"O-oh, this is--" She stutters out, cheeks blooming a brilliant hue of red.
Anon lowers his mouth close to Rarity's ear, speaking softly.
That has Rarity chomping at the proverbial bit.
Anon's fingers meet her squirming, tightly closed legs, pushing between her meaty thighs as they find her slick, waiting folds.
"Oho--ho! OH! D-Darling, what is THAT?!" Rarity squeals as Anon's middle and ring finger starts to massage her wet entrance, teasing her lower lips.
"Fingers. We're a dexterous species." Anon responds through his ear-nibbling teeth.
Trying to find an outlet for all the mixed energetic, fluttery feelings building in her body, Rarity throws her hooves around Anon's shoulders, holding him tightly.
If she had fingers, she'd probably be clawing at his back. Its not from lack of effort, at least -- she's got a solid grip on him.
His thumb presses against her button, making slow circular motions while his index finger teases her entrance, pressing past the lips.
Motivated by the squirming, lip-biting reaction Rarity has to the stimuli, Anon leans his face against the side of hers, seeking contact. Gently, he kisses the side of her face, buried in her ever-so-soft cheek fluff. She keeps it trim and short, likely from her repeated spa visits.
The mental image of one of those trimmed pomeranian dogs, but in Rarity's colors, nearly makes Anon snort. Thankfully, Rarity seems far too invested in staring down herself, watching his hands to notice.
"T-this is..." Rarity huffs, having difficulty finding the words between the haughty, heavy breaths. Her body twists, back arching off the bed. "O-oh!"
"Let me know if its too much?" Anon whispers. Instead, her face snaps to his, completely serious, cheeks deeply aflush.
"D-don't you DARE stop." She hisses, practically trembling. Her face is flush, breathing awkwardly paced and heavy.
Did heat hit them this bad? Seriously? Anon felt a pang of guilt for the little pastel beauty. Another reason to do this right.
Instead of answering, Anon slowly presses his nose to hers, as the first if his fingers slips inside.
Rarity can't seem to decide if she wants to bite her lip, or gasp loudly. Her lower legs are wrapped around the arm teasing her, squirming as fingers slowly work her. Middle teases the fold, index slowly curls inside, thumb presses and slowly teases her clit.
"B-buck! Anon..." She barely stammers, throwing her head back against the pillow, any concern for her carefully managed mane long forgotten. Her brilliant eyes are wide open and staring at the ceiling as she rides a whole new feeling, one that likely no pony before her has experienced.
Gentle, slow insertions, his finger carefully wriggling through her warm, slick depths.
Tender, slow kisses along the side of her face, down to her neck.
A second finger, slowly slipping inside, carefully pushed until his knuckles meet her folds. Then, curl -- then, slow pull.
The way she arches, the shiver that runs up her spine, tells Anon he's doing something right; as if they way she was huffing and hoofing at him with every gyration wasn't enough of a sign.
The kisses slide lower, each tenderly placed further and further down her body. The closer to her underbelly that he roams, the shorter the fur gets, until he has to shift in the bed to get any lower.
Rarity looks at him in confusion, as he carefully peels her hooves off him with his free hand, pausing his affections, fingers holding still.
"W-what are..." Rarity mumbles, confused at why he's stopping.
"You'll see." Anon mutters back between careful, bodily kisses. He shuffles down the bed, positioning himself so he's below her.
Then, his lips meet her warm, pleasantly sweet folds, tongue flicking over her button.
"Wa-HaHO?!" Rarity yelps in surprise, her legs clamping around his head, lurching upward.
While his fingers continue to slowly work her insides, making repeated come-hither motions, his tongue traces over the outside of her entrance, flicking across her clit. Every time he does, an adorable squeak escapes Rarity; though it's pretty hard to hear past the meaty legs glued to the sides of his head.
That thing about mouthing the alphabet or whatever works pretty good, if her reaction was anything to go by. Rarity is a trembling, stuttering mess competing directly with Fluttershy for who makes the most little, quiet noises. Well, Rarity isn't exactly quiet, but...
"Mm--MmF!" She bites her lip as his fingers twist upward.
"O-hOhO!" Rarity huffs, as they plush even deeper.
"B-Buck, An-non!" She yelps, twisting back, right as he starts to pick up the pace, tongue tracing circles around her most sensitive spot. Meanwhile, his fingers press fully in, and stay in, up to the knuckle, starting to curl and twist his fingers while they're inside, pressing against her inner walls.
Words are now a thing of the past, Rarity reduced to breathy gasps and moans, ramping quickly in number as she squeezes him tighter, legs like a vice.
"I-I'm--mHmmm!" She tenses, throwing her head back and burying it into the plush throw-pillows of her bed, back lifting entirely off the sheets.
She convulses, a strained, teeth-gritting wave of pleasure wracking her body, heightening her sensitivity to the sensations.
In short, Rarity came, and she came hard.
Anon is surprised by how tight of a grip she has on his head, her legs clamped around and holding him firm as she shakes, gasping for breath.
Finally she relents, releasing him and slumping to the bead, chest heaving in heavy, hard breaths. She's a sweaty mess, strands of her usually perfect mane stuck to her fur, her face soaked in a deep flush.
Rarity
Rarity really hoped Twilight wouldn't mind her using her mentors name in vain, but sweet bucking Celestia above , what in tartarus was THAT?!
Her fur is slick with sweat, her mane matted against her head and the pillow. Her entire body was as warm as her face felt, her stomach fluttering as she breathed heavily, trying to calm down.
Fingers.
Any tentative, lingering feelings of worry Rarity had about bedding the sole, bipedal alien-ape creature she'd asked for help were quickly fading, if not already gone. Shattered, honestly.
He, and his... mm. A shiver runs up her when she thinks about what he just did.
Well, that certainly helped stem some of the brunt of her heat... not quite the firm rut her loins had been demanding, but certainly a unique and appreciated approach. Now, she might be able to focus on... measuring...
She watches as Anon climbs back onto the bed, settling his hands on each side of her, supporting himself as he leans above her. She glances down herself, looking at...
... What the buck was that ?
Anon
As Rarity pants heavily, her sweet taste still on his tongue, he shifts out the few clothes that still remain on his body. Namely, the dress pants he'd been tenting.
They're promptly thrown to the floor, as Anon re-mounts the bed, his arms pushing into the blankets on each side of Rarity. Positioning himself over her, Rarity's eyes follow each hand as they nestle into the mattress.
His member, twitching in the air, catches her attention last. A look of... curious confusion settles on her pouty-lipped face. She looks like she's about to ask him something as it hovers directly over her hips, his cock drooping low enough to leave a string of pre-cum trailing between his tip, and her stomach.
That seems to sober her out of her fantasies a touch. The warmth permeating her entire body certainly didn't relent, but that thing looked... potent.
Rarity stares at it with wide, curious eyes.that your...?"
"Don't know what else I'd keep down there." Anon jokes softly. That gets a small snort from Rarity, before he continues. "Something the matter?"
"Erh--no. No! Not not at all, just... it's fine! Completely fine. C-carry on!" Rarity stutters out, throwing out an awkward smile. On that messy, blushing face, it just looks silly.
Instead, she gets a small kiss on her nose, baffling her as Anon pushes back up, away from looming over the petitely curvy white mare, and sits back on the bed. She watches him with worried confusion, as Anon speaks up.can talk to me, you know. I'd like to think that relationship wise, we're at least past awkwardly fumbling through something like this." He smiles reassuringly. "Little too weird for you? Wanna stop?"
"No! No. No, I uh..." Rarity stutters out, but it slowly drifts to a mumble, shuffling atop the sheets to try and lie on her side -- a task that seems to surprise her in its difficulty, considering her legs are like jelly.
She manages after a long moment, slumping down and sighing. Words seem a little difficult for her to reach right now, which is reasonable. Anon waits, letting that same smile sit on his face.
Rarity
Stop? Buck no. By the bucking Princesses and the roiling heat in her loins, did she want it. And hard .
So why did she pause?
Was it because it was weird looking? Probably. Actually, yes. Sorry Anon, but that thing was nothing at all like a Stallions. Clearly no sheath... but it's smooth, and a thick vein runs along the bottom, ending in a large mushroom-head. And... well, it's certainly scaled for his height. She swallows hard.
It just kept... leaking. She knew that cross species was... probably safe, but she swallowed hard every time it twitched, imagining it doing that...inside. He'd explained himself as some kind of ape spin-off, if Rarity's heat-addled mind could remember any of Twilight's numerous instructional rants properly... so they should be fine?
"You're free to poke around at it, if that would help. I don't mind being subject to a little curiosity." Anon offers, gesturing to his still-hard protrusion, drawing her gaze to it again. "I get it's probably not 'standard'." He adds, giving a quiet little laugh.
That pulls Rarity from her worries, a curiosity slowly trickling into her mind; and a guilty expression settling on her face. Well, she could take a look at it, and maybe stop making the 'Stallion' she invited over feel bad. She swallows a little pang of guilt. It served the same purpose, odd looking as it may be.
Working around her still unreliable legs, she scoots forward, rolling to her stomach as she approaches Anon's bemused, crossed-leg seating.
She glances up at him a few times on the way over, as if for confirmation or reassurance, as she reaches out with a hoof, tapping it softly. It twitches in response.
It was warm. And... she's having the same issue she did when she had him posed up on the pedestal.
The scent.
Already, she could feel her desire broiling up again. Goodness...either she was more voracious than she thought, or Anon was turning out to be a sort of incubus to her more primal senses.
He makes the cutest gasp in surprise as her tongue trails along the side of his member, stopping to pick up the latest dollop of salty pre. Judging by the face he's making, he certainly didn't expect that.
"...Mm." Rarity hums softly, tasting the salty, sticky extract as she scoots closer again, her front hooves resting atop his legs. Wordlessly, she presses her plush lips to the twitching tip, carefully taking the head in her waiting, warm mouth.
"Not quite what I imagined when I..." Anon tries to start, but gets interrupted by Rarity slowly swallowing more of it.
It was large, but she was hungry.
Her tongue slowly sticks out between it and her bottom lip, tracing the bottom of his cock with saliva as she slowly bobs back and forth, working his head and just past it.
She feels his hand slowly brush into the base of her mane, supporting the back of her head and keeping her hair out of her own face. Oh, how sweet.
She returns the favor by swallowing several more inches, getting another delightful grunt from the human. Every noise she made, the harder the desire came back.
Deeper, his tip tickling her throat. Rarity makes a mixture of a groan and a hum, throatily purring as her tongue helps lubricate him, choking down as much if him as she can.
It's not long before Rarity is mashing her snout against his pelvis, squishing it as she swallows as much of his pulsing sick as she can. Anon's head is tilted back, gripping the sheets and her mane as her tongue traces over the edge of his sack.
She gags softly, but keeps it all in, forcing herself through the difficulty of breathing with a lodged throat.
She coughs messily, holding.
Anon groans.
Her eyes start to flutter, reaching her limit.
She taps his leg, finally sliding back -- his saliva-soaked cock slips out if her throat, popping loudly once freed. Several strands and bubbles of saliva pepper both his meat, and her lips.
Heavy, hard breaths as Rarity catches herself. She could still taste him. Her mascara had started running down her cheeks.
Rarity finds a hand cupping her soggy cheek, another hand slowly settling her in her back again.
Words are gone by this point, Rarity's legs hiking up and to the sides as she watches Anon mount her again, his now sopping member dangling in front of her flushed entrance.
His face hangs over hers, as if checking one final time.
She nods. Sweet bucking Celestia, she nods fervently.
His tip presses against her folds, teasing up and down. Lubrication isn't an issue at this point, between Rarity's arousal and how well she just prepared him with her spit.
Lipstick marks stain its length as it prods against her, the teasing sensation already kicking up just how hard she's breathing -- between catching her breath and the sensations coursing through her body, her lungs were working overtime.
He leans down, planting a tender kiss against the sweated fur of her neck.
Slowly, the tip presses harder against her folds, teasing her entrance.
She bites her lip as it starts to slip in.
Anon grunts, his teeth pressing her shoulder with a playful bite.
Rarity's eyes go wide, right as it pushes just inside. Between the biting, and the long-teased start, her legs are already trembling.
A sharp inhale of air, as it slips inside, right to the hilt. It's all she can do to stop her eyes from rolling back, making a guttural, animalistic moan to match Anon's. The noises that slipped from his throat... goodness, maybe he had a little bit of that brute in him after all.
They stay like that a moment, fully connected, hip to hip, both breathing hard, pressed against each other.
Then he starts to move. The way his tip scrapes her inside walls -- she can hardly stop saying the poor princesses name in vain.
It starts off gently enough, trying to handle her lovingly. It's a sweet notion, but they didn't just go through all of that for a tender, loving embrace.
Anon makes a startled noise as Rarity bites him back, hooves wrapped around his neck, her teeth idly nipping at his jaw. That seems to spur him into understanding her needs a little better, as he starts picking up the pace.
Rarity makes a throaty moan, more pony-like noises escaping her. Soft nickers, even a whinny when he gets particularly deep -- the whole time, she's either fighting to keep her eyes from rolling back, or watching his sweaty, toned body work its way into her own, past the fleshy curves of her hips. She's always been a bit bottom heavy for a pony, and in this case, it was working as a plus.
Her natural cushioning, which he seemed quite fond of the way one of his hands kept slipping down to grab her flank, squeezing it, urged him to go harder, louder.
For a moment, Rarity felt a pang of guilt that they might wake poor Opal with just how loud they were both being -- the claps of their sweated hips meeting loudly, both of their groans, moans, and sloppy attempts to kiss despite the pleasure raking through them both.
Rarity learned another thing about either himself, or his kind -- she'd have to ask later, but goodness , did he have stamina. While Stallions typically had good size, they weren't exactly known for lasting a terribly long time.
Yet he persists, pistoning in and out of her at variable speeds -- he even starts swapping positions when her legs begin getting sore, hiking her flank up, or even pulling her up onto his lap, sitting back on the bed with her pressed against his chest.
It certainly wasn't the way she expected the invitation to go, not for either of them -- but Tartarus, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, any and all extremities a pony could shout in vain, this felt amazing.
She's lost count of how many times her body got wracked by spasms, her mind a foggy mess of pleasure. It's when he's got her on her stomach, legs pressed together, railing her from behind and above in a prone position that he makes the most spine-shivering grunt, pressing fully inside her and climaxing.
She couldn't possibly feel any more full.
He slumps down on her back, panting heavily, covering her like a muscular, fleshy blanket.
Well, she was certainly going to be sore. But as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him as he slumps down beside her, kissing her forehead just under her horn -- she sighs, nestling against him.
They lay like that for some time, the thoughts of eventually getting a good bath to wash all the sweat and sex-stink away slipping as they rest their eyes, and their bodies, for a few moments.
Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity
Memory - ...What are we, Darling?
The calm midday sun hangs directly overhead Ponyville, sky speckled by but a few small clouds. A pair of curious passersby let out small, disappointed sounds to the 'Closed' sign hung in the Boutique window. Muttering assurances about coming back later and wonderings as to why the usually punctual Rarity has yet to open, they instead head on their way. The town is softly bustling with yet another calm, usual day.
Inside said Boutique, a quiet, awkward silence hangs over the pair of inhabitants, as anything but the usual has occured.
Rarity
When Rarity awoke, dry lips smacking and peeling her sweat mane from her face, she was confused how it could possibly be the middle of the day. She was further perplexed as to why she was lying on a messily-made bed, laid on fresh, typically unused spare sheet from her closet.
She didn't wonder for very long, as things are swiftly made clear when she sees--and subsequently smells--her usual bedding politely folded in the corner. They reek of a particularly carnal endeavor, and the fluids staining them correspond to such an act.
Right.
She had invited Anon over, and he, ever the sweetheart, had agreed to help her with her whole 'pretend to be her Partner' for the upcoming Canterlot Couples Event little mess. He came over... brought her coffee, very sweet, and he was to get measured and fitted for a suit, of her design. She started measuring him, and...
Right. And then she jumped his bones.
Her face hits the mattress, groaning loudly as she promptly begins recalling the entirety previous hours -- especially the dirty bits. Every pang of hope she had that it had merely been an out-of-sorts heat-induced dream of a weirdly exotic 'stallion', was further shattered by each little messy, stained evidence.
Half of which was on her.
Her mane was a matted mess, her mascara stained her cheeks, and she could still taste... him, past her parched, dry lips. It wasn't an unpleasant taste, but this was not the time. The only upside is he had thoroughly rutted the heat out of her, and she was thinking straight. Which, in the sober aftermath, wasn't really an upside... just a brutal confrontation to consequences.
Because she couldn't control herself, her own fear of a Stallion making this whole thing 'messy' for her had been done in by herself -- before the event even started. She felt a heavy mixture of dread, guilt, and a good other helping of emotions that made her not want to leave the bed... or worse yet, confront him about what happened. Maybe if she stayed like this forever, she could just avoid it. The Boutique closed down, her dignity softly buried. Maybe even skip town. This would be... ugh.
She knew better, of course. There was no running away from this messy... well, mess.
Speaking of things that make an absolute mess... where had he gone? He'd folded up the used sheets, laid out new ones and even laid her atop them...
Rarity's ear flickers, listening. She can hear a noise downstairs. Good, he hadn't left. Well, not good because she'd need to face him after... a rather unbecoming behavior from herself that was FAR from the usual, and try to handle it with grace, but good that he hadn't simply absconded.
For a moment, Rarity tries to mentally formulate how she'd even break the ice. Oh, apologies, dearest and kindest Anon, I don't normally swallow the cock of acquaintances. Totally an accident. I hope this won't affect our professional relationship, your opinion of me, or the plans we have going forward.
She groans into the fresh linens again, hoof making a soft 'pap' as she hits the mattress out of frustration. She needed a minute to clean up, before she faced this disaster. Or several minutes.
Anon
Downstairs, Anon had left Rarity to her rest near half an hour ago, tucked in cleaner sheets on her bed. They'd spent the afterglow in each-others embrace, something that took some careful maneuvering to peel himself out of. After taking a moment to clean himself in the bathroom, trying to tackle some of the latent smell and stains that came with that particular... brand of activity they'd gotten up to, he'd redressed in the same clothes he came in. Still clean, considering it was the suit she ripped off him, not his usual outfit. He'd taken that off... in front of her. Hrm. Did he strip-tease Rarity by accident?
He'd set what was left of the suit back on her workstation, carefully folded. Anon had remade the bed, taking as best care not to disturb Rarity as he could, and set the... used sheets aside, folded, unsure of where her laundry was. She probably used magic, considering.
Now, he was in her kitchen. It was noon on the dot, according to this cute little cat-shaped clock sitting in her kitchen. Oh, there's a real cat. It blinks at him. He had no idea Rarity had a cat. It paws at its food bowl, staring expectantly at him. It gives Anon the idea that maybe they could also use something to eat, before the inevitable discussion. The one about... them.
So, after pouring nameless cat a bowl of it's food, Anon starts making them both the non-cats, himself and Rarity, a sandwich. He's hoping Rarity wouldn't mind his liberal use of her foodstuffs, nor potentially overfeeding her cat... but the furball probably deserved it, after listening to them this morning. It's a pony-sized kitchen, so he practically squats down to reach everything properly. It's not too bad since ponies tend to prop themselves up to do things, so not as short as it could be.
Of course, his mind keeps floating to what had happened hours prior, and the looming talk, as he uses one of her rather opulent looking knives to slice bread. She'd probably like something light in the stomach, or outright hydrating even. Shove some freshly rinsed salad between the bread, cold water in the fridge until she's down. That'll work.
Of course, Anon could actually cook, but he doubted either of them was in the right mindset for a proper meal right now. Plus, they had dinner tonight, if that actually kept. Why had he asked?
Rarity was... a nice mare. Very nice. Lived up to the Element of Generosity, absolutely. They'd had several good interactions before. He wanted to do right by her, with... whatever she was going through. He never had heat himself, obviously. But this... hm. Was it even helping her out? Or was he at fault somehow?
Anon pauses for a moment, hearing water run upstairs. Oh, good, she was up. Hopefully they could talk and... clarify some things. The ship had sailed. Only thing now was to weather the storm.
It's about another half an hour before the familiar stark white-fur of Rarity appears oncemore, joining Anon downstairs. He'd been expecting her to fully reset her look, redo her makeup, come out blazing with the standard Rarity fashion and confidence, like she had this morning.
Instead, she quietly enters the main room of the boutique, nary a confident trot to her step. Her mane is still up in a towel, and she lacks her usual, energetic spunk. Rarity even wobbles a little as she walks -- though that's probably more his fault than her's.
"Hey, Rares." Anon greets softly, leaning against the kitchen countertops.
"...Hello, Anon. Mind if we... have a talk?" Rarity responds, glancing up. She's washed up, but re-applied nothing. No makeup, no eyelashes... she looks vulnerable. Open. Real.
"Of course. Figured we'd want to chat after. Made you a uh... sandwich. Not sure what kind you like, but I thought you'd like something at least." Anon mentions, reaching into the fridge to pull them out.
Rarity smiles weakly as she settles at the kitchen table.
"Yeah, sorry. Just kind of... needed something to do. Nervous, you know?" Anon chuckles, placing both plates, followed by both chilled glasses, on the table.
The glass of water is quickly drank by a quite thirsty Rarity, who huffs softly.
Anon nods, sitting across from her. A little awkward, considering it's pony sized, but he makes do.
"Oh... we can go somewhere else, if you need--" Rarity starts, watching him try to get comfortable.
Anon waves a hand dismissively, settling.
She nods.
...
Both quietly glance around, the food going uneaten.
Not that it was bad, she assured him. It was just...
Well, neither had been in this situation before. Awkward was one of the many words that could be used here.
Anon purses his lips.
She's quick to shake her head. She messed up, and needs to own it.
"Are you sure? I don't mind at all." Anon prods softly. He didn't want to push, but he didn't want to just bluntly accept her worried backpedalling, either.
"Anon, I... I'm sorry. What happened was not at all my original intention, and... I feel like I tricked you." She refutes again, firmer.
"Rarity, you didn't trick me. We're both consenting adults--" Anon tries to retort.
"Please, Anon. I can't... I can't have your help, because now I'm the one who will make this messy. This... I hope you can --" Rarity starts to speak faster.
"RARITY." Anon suddenly speaks up, loudly and firmly, cutting her off.
"...Please. You know how I feel about... getting cut off." She says quietly, almost a whisper.
"...I don't think this approach is working. Mind if I do something dumb?" Anon asks, looking to her face.
"...Hm?" She hums back, confused.
Rarity watches as Anon rises out if his chair. She half expects him to simply leave, but instead finds herself being scooped out of her chair, carried towards the lounge. She was startled at first, but sighs heavily now that she's in his arms again. This was going to make letting him down harder.
Anon slowly sinks back into the larger of the lounge chairs, resting Rarity on his chest. She sighs, looking to him.
"...What were you hoping for with that little maneuver, Anon?" Rarity mumbles.
"Something that didn't feel so awkward as sitting across the table from one another, ignoring our food, like we were discussing funeral plans. I'd rather discuss what we want for dinner tonight." Anon chimes, holding her close.
"...I forgot about that. Well, that isn't true. I remembered, but..." Rarity sighs softly.
"Mind if I just blab for a bit, and you feel free to cut in where you want to?" Anon asks, tilting his head back to look at her.
Rarity looks back at him, meeting his gaze. She looks... sad.
"Well... first of all, you're a beautiful mare, Rarity, inside and out. We might not hang out all that often..."
"...If at all." She hums.
"...If at all, but that doesn't mean I don't know that about you. The way you're so kind to everyone you meet, the way Sweetie Belle gushes about how cool her big sister is, how she wants to be just like her when she grows up... you've done a lot of kind things for me, too, you know. I care about you a great deal." Anon explains quietly, idly stroking along her side. Her fur is still damp from her second shower of the day.
Rarity sighs, further leaning into him.
"Yeah, guess I am. You've a bad habit of making me fumble my words."
"Truly? You sound so concise when you speak, if a little... lax."
"Nah, still nervous. Only around you, though. You've got this... mature air to you. Makes me forget I'm talking to a colorful pony half my size. It's nice."
Rarity looks like she's about to say something, but sighs, lifting her head.
...Time for a soul read.
Anon leans up, and kisses a startled Rarity on the snout. He then places a single finger to her lips, before she can object.
She purses her pretty little lips, uncolored from her usual lipstick, but nods, silent. Waiting, with baited breath.
"I know you're a busy mare. Your work is your first love. But... I wouldn't mind being your second. You know I'm not up to much beyond fishing and grilling, and I wouldn't expect anything that isn't Miss Rarity from you. So... let me take you to dinner, and let's see if by the time the event rolls around... if we even need the word 'pretend' in front of Partner. A non-standard relationship, for a couple of non-standard individuals?" Anon offers carefully, following it with a gentle smile. Probably about as good of a translation he'd get out of the jumble of words knocking around his brain.
Rarity looks away, taking a long breath. She purses her lips.
She looks at him.
She looks at her Boutique.
At the sandwiches still on the table.
She thinks of the sheets folded upstairs, and the new ones he placed under her.
At the suit, neatly folded on the workstation.
At the 'Stallion' tenderly holding her in his arms, after accepting her fervent advances... and doing so with love, not lust. It'd be big talk if he said it all after, but... he interrupted them to ask her to dinner before they got to anything.
At the way he held her close after, stroking her mane, pressing her to himself.
This... well, Rares, might be about as close as you get to those abhorrently cheesy romance novels you so love to binge, she thinks to herself. Out of the last couple of awkward confessions some of the plucky, single males have thrown her way in the last few years, this one had some heart to it.
Her response is to slowly wiggle forward across his chest, and press her lips to his, offering a quick peck.
Anon smiles, but tilts his head.
"Your teeth. I know you had them all over me hours earlier, but..." Rarity explains, biting her lip. "I'd like to... see them."
Anon's answer is to casually open his mouth.
It's not as bad as she was expecting. He brushed, thankfully, so it smelt minty. But he was an omnivore, half teeth similar to hers, half forming a sharper edge.
She remembers them pressing against her fur, her flesh, teasingly gentle.
A little shiver runs up her spine again.
Anon closes his mouth.
"No, no. It's... truthfully, I'm more surprised by how much they're affecting me. I think I've discovered something about myself today." She relents, flopping against his chest, nestling her face against his. "I'd ask if I was being too forward, but... I don't think that's a discussion we're going to need to worry about, is it?"
"Kind of jumped the gun from intrepid, nervous newly daters? Yeah, we did a little bit. I'm alright with it if you are. I don't think either of us are the kind of ponies, or people, to do that kind dance anymore." Anon chuckles, getting a quiet giggle from a slowly feeling better Rarity.
"Afraid not. I think we both exude a little... passion. Too much of it, even. Actually..." Rarity trails off, pressing her nose to his neck.
Anon raises an eyebrow.
"...Darling, do your species have a heat cycle?" She asks.
"Mm? No, our women have an ovulation period, but...we're kind of just ready to go at all times." Anon explains. "Why?"
"Well, you certainly smell like you are. No wonder I couldn't think straight around you. Not that that's the only reason, of course -- you're a startlingly attractive male, tickling cross-species fevers I didn't know I was subject to... but goodness. If I sat here smelling you for too long, I might be ready to go again." She huffs, shaking her head.
"...Well, I'm flattered you think I'm pretty, for a non-pony. You're pretty scrumptious yourself, Miss Rarity." Anon teases back, grinning at the mare in his arms.
"Oh, enough, Nonny. I'm well aware of how much you appreciate my form... you made it very clear but hours ago, by just how thoroughly you... oh, I'll just be crass. Ravished me." Rarity teases back, patting his chest with a hoof. "
"...We do have some time before dinner." Anon says slowly, leaning to kiss the soft fluff of her neck. It got a little thicker closer to her chest, matching her natural, well-maintained chestal poofage.
Rarity's ears shoot straight up, perfectly pointed. He's kidding, right? Again?
"Should I be?" Anon smiles, planting another kiss.
"...Darling, just how voracious is your species?" Rarity mutters accusingly, throwing him a stare.
"Want that answer in words, or in actions?" Anon retorts, pressing his teeth softly against her neck, nibbling.
Rarity bites her lip.
...Not how she planned this entire conversation or day planning out, but she could work with it.
Another round of dissapointed murmurs, finding that The Boutique remained yet closed. Assuming Rarity to be out or sick, the pair from earlier trudge home.
They miss an extra-wobbly Rarity emerge from said Boutique, leaning against Anon for support, on their way to a quiet dinner. Slowly, and sorely.
Beauty Like Yours Is A Rarity
It's dark. There's little light born of the moon, and this deep in the castle, it's almost nonexistant. But the shadows and darkness that creep the halls are left to the edges of this room, as a single candelabra burns above. This close to Equus, most of the rooms were granted some level of an atmosphere.
Silently, her ethereal, sparkling mane twisting in an invisible wind, Nightmare Rarity stands at the foot of her elaborate bed. It's a grand, luxurious, alien thing that once homed the Princess of the Moon, just as this whole castle did -- though the Nightmares have been most proactive in altering its form for Rarity's unique tastes. Still, however, the objectively... 'off' feeling couldn't be escaped. The Obelisks that served as pillars, the flat walls and floor that seemed far too smooth, lacking any true texture or detail.
She stares down at the mess of luxuriant, plush sheets and pillows strewn about its bedding. The nightmares whisper to her, trying for her attention, but it falls upon deaf ears. The bed itself, however, brought her no comfort. Little did, now, but the ones actually using the bed for its intended purpose. Sprawled on his back is Anon, still dressed, with his hat pushed down over his eyes, dressed in that ever so familiar, but equally so garish garb. Tucked into the nook of his arm is Sweetie Belle, hooves idly kicking the air as she dreams, knickering in her sleep.
Her eyes slowly drift to the mirror that sits in the corner of the room, one of the few furnished pieces that made up her room. Like the dresser, the bed, the desk, it was all lavish and well-crafted, formed from the nightmares mists, nestled atop gorgeous carpets and tucked alongside elaborate tapestries depicting her, and the moons, images.
She sees her own altered form. No longer the beautiful, a smidgen on the short side, 'curvy' self she'd considered herself to be for years. Convinced herself, even. Now only a skull barring its teeth, her form tall, like the Princess -- but far from her beauty. The cracks that formed across her face, telling her of just how untrue she was. The bone-like merging of her flesh, with the sharpened daggers she could consider her teeth jutting out past her lips.
She was a monster. A Nightmare, fittingly. And not even the preferred one. Every tapestry that depicted her, every pot, every painting... it showed the Moon. The one that the Nightmares truly wanted back, no matter how much they tried to convince her otherwise with their pleasing, their pleading, their bargains, their whispers.
A slow, rattling sigh escapes her powerful form as a tired gaze falls upon the bed oncemore.
"...Anon." The ethereal, whisping voice of Nightmare Rarity says quietly. Too quiet to wake him, she speaks more to herself than to him.Am I beautiful? "
It's little more than a mutter, a soft, pained whisper that asks a question she's already given herself the answer to. An answer shown bluntly to her in every reflection, in every depiction.
"...Do you love me?" She asks even quieter, now. Hardly a noise escapes her otherworldly self.
She's about to turn, to leave the room, when she hears a shuffling on the bed.
Anon stirs, pushing the hat up off his face, rubbing at his eyes.
"You say something, Rarity?" He asks, stifling a yawn.
"...Apologies." She states, her expression flat, no hint of her prior moment visible on her face. "I presumed you were asleep."
"Not quite, but almost there. I was waiting for Sweetie to conk out first." Anon explains, groaning as he props himself up with an elbow, trying to sit up without disturbing the sleeping filly.
"...I suppose." She responds simply. In truth, she hadn't been looking for an answer. The nightmares urge her to silence his insolence, but there is no need for that.
"Doesn't sound like a yes to me." Anon presses, giving her a playful frown.
"Is it not?"
"From her most Magnanimous, Moonlit Magnificence? No, not really." Anon jests, wiggling a finger at her. "You're a little more verbose than that."
"..."
"Here." He pats the bed beside himself, carefully scooting Sweetie over. No reaction from the tired little one; revent events have been very... exciting, and rest was well overdue. She clings to the closest pillow, nestling against it.
"You're asking to share a bed with me?" She asks bluntly, tilting her head.
"Well, more asking you to come sit, but it's hardly the worst thing we've done on the bed before." He snorts, grinning.
Nightmare Rarity is silent, staring at him. The nightmares have little to offer but confusion.
Slowly, she steps around the massive bed; the tentative nature of her steps are strange for a creature of her glamorous design, as she climbs onto the bed, laying atop it, beside him. Hooves folded in, even as they sit, her head now easily holds over his.
She watches as he stares up at her, far closer now. Still, all he offers is that dumb smile.
"So? What were you saying earlier? Or were you talking to the shadows again?" Anon prompts, shifting in place to comfortably face her.
Something the nightmares don't appreciate. They're not particularly fond of him, in their whispers. They often recommend removing him, promptly, from the closest window. Even now, Nightmare Rarity watches the edge of the bed, as a thin, bold shadow creeps up it, towards them.
"Oh, get out of here." Anon mumbles, reaching for his phone. He taps it a few times, before a bright flash suddenly emits from its edge, bathing the edge of the bed in light. The shadows recoil, the nightmares in her ears hissing in displeasure as they retreat momentarily.
"That doesn't bother you, does it?" He asks to Rarity, concerned.
"Mm? No, it does not. It displeased them, for certain. They do not like you very much." Nightmare Rarity politely informs, watching the shadows retreat to the nearest crack, crevice, or underside of the bed.
"Well, sucks for them, then." Anon scoffs, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
"You're... handling the shift in our situation well." She comments, looking back to Anon. He glances up, confused.
"Oh, the whole moon thing? Yeah, it's... something, but as long as you're happy, you know." Anon shrugs. "Sweetie thinks it's pretty cool, too."
"I would've thought you'd be more... upset." Nightmare Rarity comments.
"What for?" Anon asks, confused.
"What I've had to do to our friends, since they weren't as... understanding, as you or Belle." Nightmare Rarity clarifies coldly.
"You guys'll figure all that out. Weird stuff happens all the time. Remember when Fluttershy became a vampire thing? With the fangs and the apple-fever?" Anon asks while dangling his fingers in front of his mouth, poorly mimicking a vampire.
Nightmare Rarity tsks. She might not be very appreciative of the comparison, her glorious self to a feral apple-hoarding creature.
"Well, nobody gave up on her then, right? And she didn't go down easily. Hell, she still eats like... twice the apples than she used to, even when she got turned back." Anon continues, unabated.
"So you're saying when they get the chance to fix me, this will all blow over?" Rarity begins, her tone droll and ill appeased, a furrow in her brow forming. The nightmares are quick to come crawling back, eager to whisper slandering in her ears.
"That no matter what happens, or what plays out, I'm here to support you." Anon clarifies, poking her nose with a finger, smiling at her.
That seems to... well, reset her, in a sense. She blinks several times, the eager nightmares deflating as they realize their missed opportunity.
"Even as I am?" Nightmare Rarity mutters.
"Duh." Anon scoffs.
"...Still?"
"Yeah?"
"...Even beholden to a form such as this?"
"Yep. It's pretty cool, honestly."
"...Why?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"But I'm..."
"The prettiest mare in Equestria? Yeah, I'm well aware."
"..." Nightmare Rarity is silent, as the intrepid whispers grow.
"Well, might be the prettiest mare in or above Equestria, now. Or does being on the moon make it Equus? Honestly, the exacts are escaping me."
"Your empty flattery isn't doing much, here." Nightmare Rarity suddenly growls.
"Ah-ah. Hold on, grumpy." Anon tsks, before holding his phone up to her. Another flash of like that makes her squint -- and the whispers quiet, the shadows that had been creeping up her sides escaping again. She hadn't even noticed.
"Sorry, but I think they like to creep up on you. You should really get some lamps and stuff around here for them." Anon jokes, watching as Rarity rises, scowling at the darkness that edges the room.
The room seems to... lighten, as they back off, inching away from her fury before she returns to laying beside him again.
"Still getting used to... being so tall?" Anon jokes, alluding to the larger changes.
"It is... odd." Nightmare Rarity sighs. "It's like... a step towards what I desire, but..."
Anon leans back against the bed, thumping into the plush sheets and sinking in. Rarity watches him, head tilted curiously. He pats his chest, before holding his arms out.
She leans down, chuffing at him and blowing his hair back, holding her nose close to his face. She's careful of her horn, larger than she's used to.
"Can't even spare a few minutes? It's just a big, empty bed without you." Anon says back, his hand slowly brushing over the side of her face. There's no hesitation towards her appearance, as his thumb brushes one of the larger teeth.
"...Perhaps a few moments." Rarity sighs, fully lifting herself onto the bed. Her hooves dig into the mattress, her increased size adding a surprising weight as she gets closer, that pulls Anon against her as she settles. With Sweetie nested beside them, still snoring, unaware of any of her surroundings.
Rarity's surprisingly cold to the touch, where even her barrel doesn't offer much warmth against Anon's side. Taking offense to this, Anon leans up to start pulling a blanket over her, draping it across her back.
"What are you doing?" She questions, watching.
"You're cold." Anon retorts simply, tucking the edges under her.
"..." She looks like she's about to say something, but just watches his hands, before they rest against her face, brushing her gently.
Slumped back, Anon just... pets her. Strokes her mane, fingers brushing through her fur. Eventually, Rarity lowers her head to rest it against his chest, watching his face.
"You look like you want to ask me something." Anon whispers, planting a small kiss on her nose. Or, where he can, considering her new visage.
"...No. I believe I know the answer." She sighs, leaning into him.
