Adagio didn’t look at the view-count of songs she posted to Whotube. Too depressing. Trying to build oneself into celebrity status was a long and painful process, but fortunately she never approached it with any delusions otherwise.
She wiggled on her seat, with an odd mix of old and new perched around her rolling desk. She had a tablet propped on some books, scrolling up and down with ink-smudged fingers for references and research. On the other side was a stand of vellum paper, an ink pot, and quills. Adagio had sung for countless years, and the art was as sacred as anything could be in her cynical heart. Technology, even printers… something was lost when you turned the songwriting over to them. The vellum held uneven music bars and scribbled notes, all to be expanded or shed as the half-written songs transformed ever-forwards. Music was a thing to be poured without reservation, not filled with convenient shortcuts.
A microphone rested at the center of the desk. It worked for testing and practice, though all her real recording had to happen at the college studio.
Adagio hummed to herself, reaching down to play idly with her seat. Firm and ungiving, with slight grooves for her to tickle her fingers between.
Applejack mumbled something she could not make out. Adagio kept humming, letting her lips turn up into a grin. Yes, her passion was music – the emotional, enlightened, right kind of music. But she’d be an idiot to turn down side work. Not only was it money in the bank, it was another video for her channel. Maybe it would get enough hits to buy her more than a sandwich each month. Maybe it would lure more side work, though Adagio wasn’t sure if she liked that idea. Singing something as crass as a commercial rankled her to the core, although at least this particular job treated her well.
It had other challenges, certainly. Rhymes for ‘apple’ were hard to come by, though only an amateur songwriter would let that stop them.
“I really owe you for this, sweet Applejack.”
The seat rustled as Applejack shrugged. Of course she wouldn’t think much of it. To Sweet Apple Acres, a few hundred dollars for an advertisement jingle was just another cost of doing business. Same as when she paid the budding art-major Sunset for a new logo and merch design. But to the yellow girls, these were the precious, precious first steps of what they hoped to make into a career.
Adagio settled back, content with at least the draft of the song. She ran her hand along the seat once more, looking down to smile at it. Six broad, muscular abs, holding her aloft without hint of discomfort.
She move her left hand down and stroked a knee, then looked to the head of her bed. She saw freckles glistening beneath their blindfold, kissed with a lingering blush as Applejack relaxed with Adagio on her chest. The woman was clad in underwear, gagged, and bound hand and foot, with each limb stretched to a bedpost.
Adagio circled her finger around the belly button, eliciting a muffed giggle.
She swallowed hard, unable to quite suppress a wave of sappy emotion. She settled the hand palm-down and simply rested it on Applejack’s stomach.
“I’ll be honest,” she said, using habitual snark to hide the sudden tightness in her throat. “I wanted to get with you for a long time before finally admitting it. When you asked to be my girlfriend, you made me happy in a way I’m still trying to put into song, and I don’t know if I’ll ever succeed.”
“But when I found out you were a sub…” Adagio snickered, and gently pushed away her desk. “Well, that was like opening a shell and finding two pearls, plus a rainbow.”
Time for a break. Adagio sighed with contentment, easing her butt from the chest to the bed and lounging to cuddle up next to Applejack.
“Need anything, babe?”
“Nough,” Applejack managed through the gag,
Adagio nodded. “Ear-nibbles? You got it.”
Sunset wasn’t big on the idea of digital artwork. Pouring hours and days into a masterpiece which didn’t exist outside of the screen felt wrong in a way that tugged on her Equestria-educated soul. The career she envisioned was to paint frescos and displays, with maybe a little metalworking thrown in for good measure.
And a day-job teaching art at Canterlot High, but she hadn’t quite gotten around to sharing that with anyone.
Still, digital art was a good skill to learn, and the basics of it came easily. Simple cartoon characters could be illustrated inside an hour. Not the easiest ten dollars she’d ever earned, but not bad. Even if drawing a few of the Power Pillars kissing felt a little weird.
A voice shocked her from behind. “Looking good!”
Sunset was surprised, but communal living with Wallflower had finally begun to dull her tendency to startle. She only gave a little smile and roll of the eyes. “How long have you been there?”
“Half-hour. You were busy so I let you work.”
“Dude, privacy,” Sunset grumbled. “This is my room.”
“Yeah, well Adagio and Applejack are uuuuuuuh doing a thing in mine.”
“Didn’t stop you before.” Sunset glanced behind her to find Wallflower perched on Applejack’s bed, eating from a noodle cup.
Wallflower shrugged, slurping up and swallowing. “Hey, I said I was sorry back then. People closed the door with me inside, and I figured the best I could do was not raise a fuss.”
She paused a second to swirl more noodles onto her fork. “Actually, it was good research. For my next fanfic the commissioner wants a kinky three-way between young Mistmane, Somnambula with man-bits, and their OC and now I have a much better idea what sex is really like.”
Sunset pointed to her computer screen. “Is that what this one’s for?”
“No, that’s for my current commission where the female Pillars have man-bits and all six of them compare size which leads to a bukkak–”
“Wallflower, I’ll do your cover-art but for the love of Pony Celestia please leave me anonymous.” Sunset squinted hard, trying not to think of her beloved Smash Pillars characters in that scenario and failing. “I thought you were… you know, not into that kind of stuff?”
“I just think it’s neat,” Wallflower said, a little too cheerfully for Sunset’s liking. “Besides, I’m into whatever people want for two cents per word.”
Sunset gave a restrained smile, turning back to her work. “So this is where your grocery money comes from.”
“Hey, I can’t get a normal job.” Wallflower slurped down another mouthful of noodles, then belched. “Neither will you, Miss Art Major. I’m pretty big in the Pillars fandom, so I’ll bet you’d get commissions if I name-dropped you. Maybe study a little anatomy and do NSFW work. You could charge like seventy bucks a character for some good futa.”
“No. Thank you.” Sunset cut in, moving mechanically through the coloring process. “I’m just doing this because we’re friends. I’m basically a real professional now, you know. I did a display set for Prim Hemline herself way back in high school.”
“How many have you done since?”
“Not the point. I’m also designing assets for a local business, everything from liquor labels to T-shirts.”
Wallflower giggle-snorted. “Applejack doesn’t count.”
Sunset scowled and ticked points on her fingers. “Look, Wallflower. I’m an art-major, yes. Which traditionally leads to careers in bartending and fast food, yes. You write fanfiction, Adagio’s trying to be a Whotube star, and Applejack is part of a small farming business and to be honest I have no idea how they stay afloat. None of us 100% have our shit together, so can’t we get through it without ragging each other?”
“Okay, yeah,” Wallflower said quickly, her voice becoming apologetic. “Sorry. Was just having fun, you know? Gotta give you some way to remember me.”
“I remember you just fine,” Sunset said, letting her smile return. “I don’t always notice you, but I don’t forget you anymore. It happened sometime between saving our lives and having me draw art for your Smash Pillars porn fic.”
“The term is ‘smash-fic.’ If you wanna make another ten bucks, I’m thinking for the next cover to be a really cute Flash Magus with like this big shadow over him the shape of a…”