Chapter 4
Moving On
Chapter 4
There are certain times when you just have to step back, and take a good long look at a really weird situation. Sometimes the world presents an exceptionally odd counterpoint to normalcy, or as close to normalcy as we like to consider our lives as being. Y’know, the whole day to day. An’ I have to admit, this is a really weird one. Yeah, even for me. Two seriously pissed off voices are shouting at one another inside the farmhouse, and there’s Apple Bloom’s big brother, just lounging back on the old porch rocking chair as it creaks back and forth, a jug of cider the size of my head firmly in hoof. This massive stallion just defines nonchalance, and for a moment I grasp that it’s no small wonder so many mares compete so… ardently, for his attentions. Although, I realize with a smirk, in a family like this his cavalier detachment can be a handy survival mechanism.
With a flutter of wind on my nape, Scoots touches down beside me. Apple Bloom steps forward, moving to trot up to her brother, and we fall in behind her. Or rather, I do. I pull up and glance back to see Scootaloo, who’s just standing there staring at the farmhouse with her mouth hanging wide open, her ears flared wide and canted forward. I can’t quite make out what’s being said, but it’s clear she can—pegasi have exceptionally honed senses of sight and hearing. I’m just deciding how best to snap her out of it when the sound of shattering glass whips my head around. There’s a chair, freshly burst from the living room window, sailing right at us. Along with a fair rain of really sharp glass.
Instincts. We never really appreciate them until—or maybe as much as when—they kick in. My horn flares and I throw up a wall of light between us and barrage, and I’m almost fast enough. Shards of glass flare as they burn to nothing against the barrier; the chair itself is sheared almost in half by the magic. I neatly sidestep the remaining half of flying wood—already preparing mental congratulations at the graceful move—and hiss at a sharp pain as a few shards of glass tinkle to the ground around me. Letting the barrier die out, I raise a hoof to my cheek, and it comes away wet and red from the small cut. Well. Awesome.
“Mac!” Bloom shouts as she runs up to the porch, a scowl painted across her face. “What in the hay is goin’ on?”
Big Macintosh waves a hoof in the general direction of the front door behind him. I see Apple Bloom roll her eyes as I hurry to trot up to her side, Scootaloo right behind me. The three of us line up in front of the door and share a look, the silent exchange pretty much going as such:
Are we really gonna do this?
Don’t see much choice.
How bad can it be?
Heh.
Whatever, let’s go.
That last from Scoots as she huffs and steps forward, shouldering the door open. The moment she does, we’re all nearly buffeted right back out by the sheer volume of the shouts within. The Apple family builds solid walls. Given the tone, level of noise, and ponies involved, I’m mildly surprised there isn’t a body count yet. I duck my head and whistle lowly, taking in the foyer: overturned chairs, pictures askew, and random household nicknacks sprawled about the oaken floors. My left ear flicks as Apple Bloom curses hotly.
Together, the three of us trot toward what promises to be a very interesting sight. Just before we round the hall and enter the battlefield, a flash of something bordering on reminiscence makes me smirk: our hooffalls are perfectly in sync. The three of us have been through so much together, from challenges to pitfalls, that this is just… what we do. It’s natural. Our hooves fall together, front to back, shoulders rolling as we canter forward. Even our tails are held at a similar angle, and despite what we’re about to stroll into, I feel a surge of joy—we’re together again. And then reality smacks me upside the head. At least we flinch back as one as we round the corner.
“How dare you! That was Granny’s favorite chair!”
“What?! You threw it!”
“An’ y’all dodged it, like a... like the snake ya are!”
Dash scoffs, tossing her mane. “Pheh, that the best you got, redneck? You couldn’t hit the barn right now!”
My muzzle makes an ‘O’ shape as I watch AJ’s face go red. “Redne—why Ah oughtta!”
Oh. Oh bugger. My head fills with a flurry of calculations and dates. It just occurs to me that Bloom might be trotting into a minefield she’s maybe-kinda unprepared for. She’s been gone for… six months, near about, back for less than a week. Dash an’ her sister have been ‘official’ for… just under five months. I mean, it’s not as though anypony who saw those two since the last forever didn’t know there was something between them… hell, the three of us used to joke about it all the time as fillies, and there was that one time Bloom rushed into the club house—her face crimson and a nervous twitch in her eye—babbling about having walked in on the two of them in the barn and… Huh. Never did get the details on that one, come to think of it.
Oh, right. Reality. I’m snapped right back to it as Applejack makes a literal rush at Rainbow Dash, only to be intercepted by Apple Bloom, who lunges forward into her sister’s path.
“AJ! What do ya think you’re doin’? Calm down! What’s come over you?!”
Applejack looks a mess, her eyes are red like she’s been crying, but the glower on her face is more suited to a mare about to beat the absolute hell out of somepony. Honestly, if she turned that glare on me, I’d be ‘porting right the hell outta dodge, but Bloom weathers it like a champ, just squaring up to her big sister and refusing to budge an inch.
I have to split my attention as Apple Bloom and Applejack begin to get into it, because from the corner of my eye, I catch the look of utter disgust scrawled across Scootaloo’s muzzle. Uh oh. This I hadn’t taken fully into account either—yes, I’m clearly batting a hundred today—and it could turn nasty. My mind goes into overdrive as I try to figure out some way to defuse this before it gets out of hoof. I suppose I could just teleport them all into the cow-pond out back; it’s not too far all things considered, but—and too late. My ears plaster back into my mane as I watch Scootaloo fluff up like an angry little hawk, trotting forward and shoving her face right into Rainbow’s.
“Dash, you’re freakin’ sloshed. Just calm down and relax,” she says, a fierce scowl painted across her face. Scootaloo hates it when Rainbow gets like this. There’s really nothing rational about it—she knows it, we’ve discussed it more than a few times—but she just holds the older pegasus to such a standard, even today, that Scoots just totally loses it when Dash gets like... this. Personally, I don’t get it; Rainbow enjoys a drink more than most, sure, but it’s not like she’s out of control about it. Well, I mean, usually.
Then Dash does just about the worst thing she possibly could have to my proud little lover. She utterly and completely ignores Scootaloo, making to move around her to confront Applejack again. She didn’t even glance at her.
“Hey!” Scootaloo yells, moving back in Dash’s way and shoving a hoof into her chest. “I’m talkin’ to you.”
There’s always been this… atmosphere of impressiveness about Rainbow Dash; I think a lot of it might be just in the way she carries herself, the strength of her personality and the sheer confidence she exudes so effortlessly. Then again, I’m sure being a Wonderbolt doesn’t hurt either. To a lot of ponies, she can be downright intimidating. To us, she’s family, but right now I’m kind of questioning if that’s gonna be enough, because the atmosphere between the two pegasi just took on an edge that overshadows even the messed up situation we rolled into.
Dash still has a good hoof or two on Scoots, and she uses it, drawing herself up to do that that cool arch-thing with her neck, her chest puffed out. I’ve caught Scoots trying to get that exact same look down in the mirror when she thought I was elsewhere. My throat goes dry as I watch those sharp red eyes narrow and turn down to glare at my lover. Her look somehow manages to convey complete superiority and utter disdain into a nice little package. She growls out: “You lost your mind, pipsqueak? Back offa me!” Rainbow lifts her hoof and shoves Scootaloo out of her way with a strength that’s so casual it’s almost scary.
Er... well shit. Where else would I rather be right now... mmm… yep, just about anywhere. My mind instantly conjures the best of all possible worlds: fresh out of a scented bath, leaning back into Scootaloo’s damp chest. Her wing soft beneath my hooves as I stroke the moisture from her long, sleek feathers. The slight, comforting tugs as she sweeps my favorite ivory brush through my mane. I can’t help but grin at the thought, despite the situation: brushing my mane was the most feminine indulgence Scoots had, and I was under very serious pain of death to never reveal it. Naturally, it was just one more thing to tease her with.
I take a step forward, but I have no idea what to do here. Apple Bloom and her sister are shouting over one another, looking just shy of getting physical. Scoots and Rainbow may as well be snarling as they circle each other. This was not the plan; this was not how things were supposed to go! My options at this point are pretty slim: Sweet Apple Acres is a good ten minute trot out of town, the Carrots would probably just laugh at the situation—friendly rivalry my flank—and Big Mac has every bit as much interest in getting involved in this as any sane stallion would in his position.
I jump up in little hop and land on all four hooves. “Stop it! All of you!” I yell, to absolutely zero effect. I see Dash rear up, her hoof raised high, and to be honest... I maybe sorta panic. A little. A flash of my horn later, and the room is dead silent, and it’s by this virtue that we can all hear the splash from out back.
Apple Bloom blinks. “Wh-what jus’ happened?”
Um. “I, uh, may have kinda teleported them both into the pond out back.” I offered a weak smile.
Bloom’s eyes go wide, her lips parting slightly and tail drooping between her legs. “Ya… ya mean the cow-pond?” Even her voice sounds pale. I manage a nod.
“Eh, we… we need to run. Now.”
“Yep!”
Honestly. I love these mares; they’re my family, each and every one, but sometimes, they can be a real bunch of idiots.
——
We’re trotting one of the thicker paths through the orchard, moving cautiously in the deepening night.
The cow-pond in which I had ‘deposited’ our older sisters wasn’t far, and we were now less concerned about the pair killing each other, as killing us.
We all freeze at a noise. Voices! Scoots looks about wildly. “Twelve! Number Twelve!” she hisses. We have eighteen reliable hiding places that have proven themselves over the years in saving our hides.
We dive into said hiding spot; a thick bush with plenty of crawl space under it. We creep to the edge, peeking through it.
Rainbow and AJ trot by, on the path to the clubhouse. They’re... not pleased. “C’mon, Dash, we’ll find em. Those fillies are gonna get a whippin’. If they’re not at the clubhouse, we’ll check Sweetie’s apartment, then Twi’s library. We’ll find em!”
Dash just growls.
Breathing a sigh of relief, we crawl out and dust ourselves off. Scootaloo keeps her ears perked and alert as we move off.
“At least we’re coming up behind em. They’ll get to the clubhouse first, then head out. Ah doubt they’ll be back this way.”
“Even if they do,” I offer, “I can throw up an illusion spell that’ll last for a few hours. It’ll make the place look empty and lock in any sound.”
We nod. Decent plan.
Along the way, Apple Bloom starts asking me questions. Given she keeps glancing around, I’m assuming she’s trying to distract herself from thoughts of her sister catching up to and tearing us to pieces, despite the plan and our near miss. I can roll with that. Recently learned battle magics aside, the thought of tangling with a semi-drunken and thoroughly pissed Rainbow Dash and Applejack sends a cold chill down my spine.
“So, Sweetie, I never did hear the story. How’d it go with your sister when you moved out?”
Damn. I take a deep breath, ignoring Scootaloo’s chuckle.
“Rarity, I’m moving out.”
Her tail was to me, but I saw her freeze; the magic of her horn flickered, and for a moment I thought she was going to let the glass of milk she was pouring fall to the tiles and shatter. My sister may be a lot of things, but a pony lacking in composure was not among them. Her magic solidified, and she cast me a sidelong glance. “I’m so sorry, my dear,” she said in that condescending, yet somehow lilting, tone of hers. “What was that now?”
“I said, my dear, I’m moving out,” I returned; I tried to contain my scowl.
Milk settled and forgotten on the counter, she turned to me, her bright eyes narrowed. “Sweetie Belle, do not take that tone with me. And don’t be silly. You’re hardly more than a filly, certainly not old enough to live alone. And where would you have to go? Darling, you don’t even have a job.”
Honestly, she was an impressive mare. She had gone from shocked to angry to utterly dismissive of my aspirations—and possibly more phases than I caught—in the space of a single monologue. I’d probably have been able to appreciate the talent more if my eyes hadn’t nearly crossed with anger at such a casual and insulting dismissal. Nevertheless, I was determined not to yell, stomp, or act like the foal she was so apparently convinced I was. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Sis, I’m not asking for permission here, or even help. I’m just letting you know, and... I wanted to say ‘thanks,’ for taking care of me, letting me stay with you. But I’m leaving. Tonight.”
Her eyes had gone wide somewhere in the middle of my speech. I guess she’d figured out I was serious and—oh my goddesses, she was about to cry. Buck everything.
“B-but, Sweetie, where will you go?”
And here we go. “I’ve... already got a place lined up.”
Her ear quirked. “Oh? Where at?”
“I’m moving in with Scootaloo.”
“...Oh. I see.” She frowned delicately. “Wait, you mean that little studio? Sweetie, there’s hardly room in that squalor for one pony, nevermind two! Where will you sleep?”
Don’t blush, be an adult. You got this. “Yeah... about that. Sis... Scoots an’ I are, um... together.” Did I just squeak?! I did! Damn it voice!
Rarity just stood there, staring at me blankly. Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! Oh my!” She raised a hoof to her muzzle. “Sweetie, are you—have you even...” She tittered. “Sweetie, I think before you take this rather forward step, we need to have a little talk. You see, when two mares love each other very, very much—”
I wrenched that damn bell down on my out of the Boutique, throwing it to the dirt as I ran. In retrospect, yelling at her just how many orgasms Scoots had given me the night before may not have been the most mature thing to have done.
Still chuckling at the density of our extended family, the three of us trot wearily up the old, familiar wooden ramp up to the clubhouse. As soon as I cross the threshold, I light my horn and cast four orbs that affix to the corners of the room, bathing the structure in a soft violet glow. Eyes lighting, I make a beeline for the pile of our shucked saddlebags in the far corner, while the others plop themselves down around the low table, chatting amiably.
With a feeling akin to triumph, I levitate out the contents of each, approvingly looking over the three full bottles of very hard cider. Unable to restrain myself, I very nearly skip back to the others, bottles and glasses in tow.
“Time to get soused!” I sing-song.
Their eyes light up as I take my place between them, the glass bottles settling down on the table with a clink. I look at my friends, and see a matching grin on their faces. Wasting no time, I uncork the first bottle, and pour us each a very generous amount. Three glasses are raised, meet with clink of glass, and are drained. Setting my glass down, I catch Scoots’ narrowed brow, and the challenging glint in her eye. Oh. It is so on. Sticking my tongue out at her, my horn flares as I snatch up the bottle and fill the cups to the brim.
Bloom raises her eyebrow but makes no complaint as we cheers and down the drink, the sweet amber liquid burning slightly and warming me from the inside.
Bloom coughs a little, and Scootaloo’s ears perk. “Hah, whatsa matter, Bloom? Can’t keep up with the big girls?”
Apple Bloom flushes and reaches up to loosen her bandana before growling, “Keep dreaming’ featherbrain!” She reaches out her hooves and snatches the entire bottle, taking a solid three-second pull straight from it before filling our glasses, all the while grinning at our pegasus friend.
Before I know it, we’ve drained two bottles, and my horn is being stupid, sparking and sputtering magic as I try to work loose the cork on the unopened bottle. The hell? Did they seal this thing with tar or something?! It certainly doesn’t help that my friends are being complete jerks, Scootaloo openly laughing at me, while Bloom has a hoof raised, trying to hide her smirk. What, they think I can’t—ah screw it. With a growl, I take the bottle between my hooves and bite down, my teeth sinking into the soft cork. I’m jerking my head back and forth as I wrestle the damned thing, doing my best to ignore the increased volume of my friends’ laughter. Bloom sounds like she’s about to lose it.
With a pop, the cork flies out, and I let loose a cry of triumph that quickly turns into a squeal of shock as the amber drink sprays me across the face. I fall back on my haunches in shock. Mouth hanging open, the cork drops to the ground and I raise my hooves to eye level, staring blankly. I’m soaked. My locks are hanging heavy and dripping a veritable deluge of alcohol. I blink, and realize both my so-called friends are not only immune to my suffering, but rolling on the damned ground laughing at me. Scootaloo’s holding her gut as she rocks back and forth on her side, and Bloom looks to be in physical pain and unable to breathe.
Heartless. Evil. Mares. I… vengeance!
I jump to my hooves and leap between them, shaking for everything I’m worth. They screech in a very satisfying manner as I share my drippy fate with them. I’m pretty sure I’m laughing maniacally as I lose all sense of balance and effectively faceplant on the floor. Whipping my head up to glare at her, Scootaloo freezes from her place on the ground. She tripped me! That little! Using my rear legs, as my front don’t seem to be functioning properly, I drive myself at her in a full tackle. Yelping, and maybe biting a little, we tousle about on the hardwood. We must have tumbled over Apple Bloom, because the next thing I know she’s mixed up in our rolling battle. Even drunk—and she’s totally drunk—Apple Bloom is stronger than Scoots and I put together, and before long she’s standing—how the hell does standing work again?—over the both of us. Scoots and I are pressed shoulder to shoulder staring up at her, her mane askew and tussled, her face delightfully flushed.
Frustrated, I huff at her, grab Bloom by the bright red bandana about her neck, and pull her face down for a kiss.
Scoots’ jaw is agape as she gives me a double-take look. She blinks, and then to my absolute horror she starts to almost tear up. “Are… Sweetie, are you leaving me? This is the way you tell me? I—“ She chokes off, her voice breaking and she grits her teeth. She looks torn between running away on the spot and smashing something. Knowing her, probably me.
In a panic, I wave both my hooves at her. “No, no no no! Scoots, gods no! It’s not like that! It’s—“ Ugh! Why can’t I just say it? I look up to Apple Bloom desperately. Yeah, fat load of good she’s gonna do; her face is as bright as her brother’s coat. Thanks a lot. I motion to her, and she backs up and sits down. I flail a bit, but manage to sit up elegantly enough, then reach over and help Scoots up as well. The three of us are sitting in a close circle, Scootaloo still looking between us with unadorned hurt in her eyes.
I stutter and mumble for a minute, pointing between the three of us until, thank Celestia, comprehension sparks in Scootaloo’s eyes. I see the wounded look wash away from her face, replaced by… caution? Disbelief? Something like that.
“Are you—“ She looks between Bloom and I, shell-shocked. “Are you both sayin’ you wanna… wanna herd?”
Oh gods, she just has to put it like that, doesn’t she. The three of us could probably immolate the entire orchard by sheer proximity of the heat radiating from our faces. Why is this so embarrassing to talk about? That’s exactly what I want, exactly what Bloom wants, and by the look on her face, a notion that Scoots is quickly coming to appreciate. So what the—
Scoots leans in and, to her credit, slurs only slightly. “Listen, Bloom, I just… I just wanna make sure you’ve thought this through, y’know? Like, our friendship is more important to me than anything, and I just don’t want anything to mess it up, or have anything come between us.” She pauses, casting me an inscrutable look. What the hell? I turn up my nose, and shakily levitate the one glass on the table that hasn’t been knocked over in our tumble.
“Besides, Sweetie has… um, heh, a bit of an appetite.”
I choke, half inhaling a sip of my cider. Excuse me?! She barrels on, not looking at me, but the tight grin on her muzzle says she’s damn well aware of the two tons of death-glare I’m leveling at her. Scootaloo is steadfastly avoiding making eye contact, but she waves a casual hoof in my general direction. “Like, this mare is like a camel in the desert, Bloom. Sometimes even I have a hard time keeping up with her.” I can feel my left ear beginning to twitch spasmodically. Dead. This pegasus was dead. Clipped, plucked, basted and roasted.
Bloom’s giving me a look. I smile weakly and give Scootaloo a little shrug, before leaning over, taking Bloom’s now startled face between my hooves, and pull her in. She squeaks in surprise, but her soft lips part, and before she can pull away, I push my tongue in her muzzle. Was I worried about her moving away? Suddenly I’m on my back, Apple Bloom is taking my hooves in hers and stretching my arms up above my head. Oh my. My head is swimming at the rich fullness of her lips; her strong form is moving, pressing down on me. I’m startled as she breaks away from me; I hear her yelp. Craning over her shoulder, I see Scootaloo is behind us, and she has Apple Blooms tail in her mouth; she’s just given the base of it a sharp yank. I meet Scootaloo’s eyes, and we share a grin.
In a flash, we have Bloom flipped to her back, spread eagled. Scoots has her hinds pinned, and I’ve got her arms securely held. I duck my head and go back to kissing her, but keep my eyes open so I can watch Scoots work. I know my mare. She’s nipping hard at the inside of Bloom’s thighs, making her way upwards, while running her hooves in rough strokes along her marks. Apple Bloom squirms and squeals delightfully into my mouth. Her breathing is getting ragged, and she lets out a long moan as Scoots really gets to work. A shock goes through me as Bloom raises a hoof, showing how considerate—and deft—she is.
-----
I wake nestled between my two best friends in the entire world—curled up against my first lover, my legs intertwined with my new one. I smile dreamily, watching Apple Bloom snore softly and murmur in her sleep. She still has one of Scootaloo’s feathers stuck in her disheveled mane and—oh, I seem to be wearing her bandana. When did that happen? Oh, right. The blindfold. Scootaloo gives her traditional snort before beginning to stir herself, and for some reason blearily rubs at my flank.
We’re all beginning to rouse now, the bright sunlight of a crisp dawn pouring through the window, our minds—harmonious as ever—turning to the first glorious cup of coffee, when we hear a raucous scuffling from outside. Our eyes, one and all, snap wide in panic as we lie frozen, twined together in a rumpled mass of sensuous young mare, and four voices sound in unison as three fillies and a colt barrel into the clubhouse. “Cutie mark crusaders, ya—“ The kids tumble into a pile right over one another in shock at the sight of us, their oh-so-familiar chant cut off.
Well, hell.
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Awesome end. Cutie Mark Crusader lesbimares are a go!
FWIW, I think that there is going to be a very, very long conversation and panicked excuses offered by the original CMCs to their successors. The thing that will weird them out is that the kids seem totally at ease with the situation and are actually quite surprised that anypony thought they didn't know the facts of life.
I also think that RD and AJ will forgive and forget... eventually... although I bet Scoot, Bloom and Belle have a prank or two coming their way.
Um... that ending...
Wut
I would imagine that the foals would miss the sexual aspect and be more concerned about the alcohol.
I just love the presentation of this story, its an excellent blend of narration and Sweetie's view point that makes me feel like in right there with her.
Hold on, re-reading the first three chapters..
Needs the Applebloom tag, especially after that ending.
i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/276/891/1d7.png
^ Everyone's face when
1450090 that pretty much sums it up
Ah, damn, I didn't realize this was the last chapter. Was hoping there'd be more of this. Still, great story!
Absolutely brilliant. I have to squee every time I see this story update. Probably some of the best-written crusaders fic I've ever read. Granted, my filthy mind wishes for more detail, but what's there is thoroughly enjoyable and incredibly well-done. Great job.
Their clubhouse is gonna smell like booze for weeks. Good luck kids!
Can't. Stop. Laughing. At. The. Ending!
And, FINALLY! You update the story >.>
Very well done, I would like to see a sequel. Possibly?
"You... You wanna herd?"
I had waffles for breakfast
kinda sad to see this story end.
it was well written and quite a story. //dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Sweetie_happy.png //dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Sweetie_happy.png //dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Sweetie_happy.png
hope there's a sequel.
I would never have guessed this was the ending unless I saw the comments. Hopefully this gets a sequel, it just seemed to end without a real resolution
Hilarious ending. I really like the characterization of the young adult crusaders and how their bond has stayed really strong.
Also, poor Rarity. I bet her fainting couch got a lot of use that day.
Edit: Wait, this is complete? Someone get me Rarity's fainting couch!
But... But... The story's too interesting to end!
I really liked the way the adult CMC were portrayed. I'm sorry to see it's over.
All of my gusta goes to this chapter.
Okay, I really like this story and all, but how is this an ending? Besides the fact that the author has decided to stop writing? This is a cliffhanger, not an ending.
It feels odd to nitpick this, but...
Didn't Sweetie have AB's arms pinned down?
And, yeah, noting your comment on your userpage, I would suggest you at least set this to On Hiatus, if not Incomplete.
I had never run across the word "herd" used in that context. That was new. And slightly hilarious.
Overall, I'm enjoying this. Good humor, good content, looking forward to more. =3
I'm not sure it's over... It may have had the "Complete" tag last chapter too... but I don't want to give anyone any false hopes...
Well... "herd" has now entered my mental head canon for this type of relationship.
I am really liking this story! Looking forward to more. Especially how they deal with the new Crusaders!
I would say this is the Third time I've seen the term "herd" linked successfully used in a story quite appropriately in manor... I think I like this definition the best out of them.
Great Story, love it, hope there's more.
Right, so . . . why was I not already tracking this story, again? I remember reading the first chapter when it got posted to EqD and loving it. Huh. Whatever, tracking now.
Liked the first chapter. Hated every one after it.
Was Sweetie supposed to be unlikable? Because that's how I found her.
Final-f***ing-ly. Been bloody forever since the last update. Now let's see what we have here...
*Reads*
Wait WHAT?
THEY'RE ALL LESBIANS! WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!
(lolled at ending)
Lols for all!
Great chapter. Loved the "herd" thing. I like it. Mind if I use the idea in a story I'm thinking about?
.......Not bad not bad at all, I didn't think I would like it but I am pleasantly surprised.
>My face when I read chapter 4:
media.comicvine.com/uploads/5/52044/2060390-i_like_it.jpg
cdn.memegenerator.net/instances/400x/23384992.jpg
>My face when I noticed the "Complete" tag:
leagueofcomicgeeks.com/media/library/images/movies/thor-angry.jpg
I can only imagine Rarity's reaction
Sweetie Belle: Hey Rarity guess what? Not only am I having TONS of orgasms with Scootaloo, but we've started a herd with Applebloom!
media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m89tlbB5hy1r4q5hc.gif
1449636 All of my like for this comment...
Well, I certainly enjoyed that story. Great job, and thanks for writing it. If ever there is a continuation I'll be sure to read it.
1456011 Complete? Bitch what you talkin bout? This is clearly n-
*Looks at status and sees 'Complete'*
...
Alright boyos, looks like it's time to remind the author they're not done writing until we SAY they're done writing...
(XD Just kidding! Seriously, though, what's with that ending? It's... not really an ending, or rather, it's a very poor one. A good ending isn't suddenly slamming into a wall with 'The End', like in a cartoon. It's supposed to have a resolution, and that... wasn't a resolution.)
LOL
Serious question. Is this story completed, or did you mark it as complete by mistake? Cause if it is, and we don't get to see how that cliffhanger comes out, I may have to cry.
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Okay guys, first of all, thank you very much for reading, and I'm really happy to hear a lot of you enjoyed it! So, a couple a things.
I'm seeing a lot of "what, that can't be the ending, string this fucker up!" and it occurs to me that we need to have a little chat about types of stories. See, many of you are right, in that most story types DO call and insist upon a proper conclusion, and proper resolution, to the tale; most especially if we're talking about a sprawling adventure fic—which btw I'm also writing, and have put a hell of a lot more work care and effort into than this fluff-fic-hinthint—HOWEVER, a Slice of Life story does not follow this rule. Consider a slice of life fic as... you're sitting on a train, looking out the wiindow, and see the events of the story unfold outside. The amount of time before you pass out of sight is indeterminate; you're just catching a peek at the lives of these semi-interesting people that you'll never see or likely even think of again. That, is a Slice of Life.
I mean hell, to be honest, there wasn't even going to be anything past the first chapter until certain rabid CMC lovers bullied me into it.
IN CONCLUSION, thanks again, all the best, and if you get a chance, please read Divergence—the story I actually care about ;)
Cheers guys.
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>Was SB supposed to be unlikable?
No, not really... which isn't to say I went out of my way to make her life, an ultra endearing character of perfection. I guess in making her as real as I could, it's only natural some people would dislike her personality. Still, sorry to hear you wanted to curbstomp her.
>Liked the first chapter. Hated every one after it.
Then why the hell did you keep reading up to the fourth? Damn man.
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> Loved the "herd" thing. I like it. Mind if I use the idea in a story I'm thinking about?
Of course not, feel free; be sure to link me to the completed thing! I'd like to see it
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No worries, man.
I posted Thor not just because he's meme-tastic but also because he starts out arrogant and petulant--which was just how I felt. Symbolism, brah!
As much as I know you're right about Slice-of-Life, I can't help my foalish wish for more Sweetaloo. Ah, well...
At least you chose a fun stopping point! 
I for one have been holding off on reading Divergence because I'm something of a chameleon; if I read something in the same genre as what I'm writing it colors my style, and you're not the only pony writing a sprawling, epic adventure!
Speaking of which--next chapter posting race?
1461625 Ehh, it's all good, just felt like an great occasion to get some use out of the fainting couch.
As for Divergence, it's on my RIL list now, so I should get to it eventually.
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Yeah, I'm quite familiar with slice of life stories, and I realize that many of the ones on this site with that tag go on far longer than that tag would lead you to expect. I'd still love to see more of this storyline if you decide to pick it up again later.
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I think maybe I should elaborate; I was tired as all hell when I wrote that comment, and probably put it a little harsher than I meant to.
First off, I did find Sweetie unlikable (not that I would want to curbstomp her
). I think it was mostly because of her nymphomania. It seemed like every other scene had to do in one form or another with her wanting to bang Scootaloo and/or Apple Bloom. It got tiring pretty fast.
The concept of threesomes in stories always irk me (unless the characters were, like, Mormons). It's mostly because my personal view on sex is that it should only be performed with someone that you're truly in love with, and are willing to spend the rest of your life with. Threesomes don;'t tend to fit that criteria (excluding Mormons). Her lust for Scootaloo I was fine with, even if it could get a bit excessive (chapter three; she was about to get going with Scootaloo right in front of Apple Bloom [or was that her plan???]).
Part of this was also her reaction to Rarity attempting to help her. I think you know what I'm talking about.
I'm not trying to say that a character like her is immediately the worst thing ever created. But that this was about half (or more) of her character, and the story treated it like it was good, and normal, and there wasn't anything wrong at all... Not my kind of thing.
I also felt that it was the least bit too mature for EqD, but that's something that can be argued until the end of time, so I'll drop it.
To answer your second question:
In my original post, I said that I hated the rest of the chapters. As I teach my nephews, hate is a strong word. I'm sorry for using it, as it isn't true at all. I suppose that "dislike" would be better.
I really liked the first chapter. It was cute, humorous, and heartwarming. But in the chapters that followed, everything I've talked about above happened, and it really soured the story for me. I kept reading because I was hoping that the story would get back to how it was in the first chapter.
Now, this is just my take on the story. I'm not trying to say that it's a bad story—hell, it's quite the opposite! You are a great writer, Seattle. You did a great job at creating a universe without having to rely on exposition dumps. And I love your prose. But this plot just wasn't for me.
1461625 I see.
On the 'herd' thing... Thanks! Dunno how long it will be if it ever gets written. Perhaps once I don't have an overload on school papers to write. However, I will tell you that the herd will consist of AJ, RD, Rarity, and Pinkie. On a completely unrelated sidenote, the way of boucing that Pinkie uses is called Pronking. Fun word.
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Just wanted to add in that when I said "hope there will be more"... I mean more writtings, not more of this story. I love it and I personaly love the endings of the "slice of life" stories because it's open ended.
Anywhos, might check out the other story, depends on how much free time I get.
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I swear I had seen this was Incomplete, that's why I was assuming there was going to be more. But then again, the ending as it is is open enough to both leave it to your imagination just as it could imply more.
Oh well, my bad. It was a fun ride nonetheless. =3
Ewwww, AppleDash?
Awwww, it's ending?
Yayyyy, CMC threesomes!
Oh man, I am so out of it. Mornings suck. Great chapter (really funny), and I am sad to see it over!
Oh, cool, it's finished. Enjoyable, but I feel it could have been better, better both in ways I think I can explain and in ways I can't.
Even tranche de vie stories need plot. True, it won't manifest itself in with the same flash and vigor, but there needs to be a meaningful destination. It can be a literal one or figurative, but it has to be there.
My favorite example of tranche is "Someday in the Rain" from Haruhism. Transcript here, or I'm sure you can find it at a library or something. *nudge*. But you'll notice there's a clear destination mentioned at the very beginning and which hangs over the story almost until the end.
The part after the end makes the story feel incomplete, which is okay because Haruhism is a serial. It would be frustrating for your readers to end a complete story that way.
But I think the fault in this story is that the ending we were hoping for, CMC menage a trois, wasn't as much fun as we hoped. Partly that's because of the T rating (this story begs to be full clopfic), but mostly it's because of the alcohol. In this story booze doesn't symbolize a good time, it symbolizes loss of self-control and doing things you'll regret later (thanks to how it appeared with AppleDash). If you were to revise this, perhaps you'd bring the Crusaders' growing apart more to the forefront, cut the AppleDash distraction, and the end would be Sweetie propositioning both her friends at once - it doesn't have to be a good idea, but she should be 100% her own sober idea.
And structure it around a literal journey. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo know they need to meet Sweetie for something, they have their own problems to deal with, and maybe they can guess at what Sweetie wants with some trepidation... I'll stop now, 'cuz I've already written my own take on the CMC and AppleDash and nice feels (but without the sex).
It's such a shame how this story falls into the bottle.
That aside, I'm in awe at your voice for Sweetie. She's funny, sexy, capable. She faces enough challenge to be interesting with enough bad feels to be believable but not too much (annoying angst averted). Nothing should suggest this story isn't well above fic average; it is good, I just wanted it to be better.
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i.imgur.com/DP73S.jpg
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...Did you... just make an 'ew' noise about best ship? Nawmygawd.
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Oh, wow. Hey, thanks for that Eust! That was totally unexpected mate.
>CMC menage a trois, wasn't as much fun as we hoped
*weeps in failure and shame*
>In this story booze doesn't symbolize a good time,
Actually, I go to small note to illustrate BOTH; that it's a facilitator for both good an bad decisions/actions/masturbation etc.
An just to clarify--
>but she should be 100% her own sober idea.
It totally is/was a sober decision, both on her part and Apple Bloom's. Teh booze was just being the device that it so often is.
>That aside, I'm in awe at your voice for Sweetie.
And thank you very, very much for this; I really appreciate that!