• Published 14th Jul 2018
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Applejack's Butt - Vedues



The new stallion in town is strangely obsessed with rear ends. Especially Applejack's.

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Chapter 8: Butt's Up, Doc?

Applejack didn’t think she’d ever wrap her head around the way Rarity’s mind worked. Instead of looking sad or guilty over how she’d misjudged Sketchy, her friend looked absolutely thrilled.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been spending time with a mysterious artist with a troubled past who struggles reaching out to others?” Rarity asked, grinning widely.

“I guess?” Applejack frowned and looked around the hospital waiting room. Sadly it was empty, so there was no one around to help her talk Rarity out of whatever fool idea was bouncing around in that head of hers.

“Not only that, but he’s tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Medium, gray, and average, but sure.”

Rarity didn’t seem to hear. “It’s like something out of a deliciously steamy romance novel.” Her smile turned almost hungry.

“Uh, Rarity, Sketchy ain’t exactly romance material.” Applejack thought about how he’d been in jail and the hug they’d shared when he got out. “Though he is a pretty good guy once you get past his weird obsession with rears.”

“That’s a good beginning,” Rarity said. “Now we have to build upon it.” She grabbed Applejack and waved a hoof in front of them. “Just imagine spending time with him, getting him to open up about all his secrets, posing for him as he admires your every curve, and of course, evenings spent in his passionate embrace.”

“Sure, you have fun with that.” Applejack rolled her eyes and pushed Rarity’s hooves away. “Meanwhile, I gotta figure out a way to pay off his fines, including this hospital bill.” She gave Rarity a flat look.

At least she had the good sense to look ashamed. “Well, in my defense, it really did appear that he was attempting to force himself on you, and I will, of course, cover any medical costs.”

“Thank ya kindly,” Applejack said. “Now, any idea where we could find a good model?”

Rarity sighed. “Applejack, dear, weren’t you listening? You must be his model. Destiny all but demands it.”

“Destiny?” Applejack asked. “What’s destiny got to do with any of this?”

“This is the first stallion to whom you’ve paid the least bit of attention,” Rarity said. “It clearly must be destiny that you’re so focused on him after ignoring all the others who threw themselves at you.”

“Nopony has ever thrown himself at me,” Applejack said.

Rarity gave her a flat look. “Trenderhoof.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “That self-important city slicker? I think he was more infatuated with his own delusions of farm life than anything.”

“And when Thunderlane said he’d love to have a gorgeous mare like you accompany him to the Fall Harvest Dance?”

“Figured Dash had already turned him down, so he was laying on the compliments extra thick.”

“Caramel asked you to marry him when he first saw you in your gala dress.”

“He says that to every mare. Doesn’t mean he was throwing himself at me.”

Rarity let out a long sigh. “Do you really need me to list off more stallions that have tried to get your attention?”

“Go ahead and try,” Applejack said confidently. “There can’t be that many of them.”

“Goldengrape.”

“He was just trying to get Daisy jealous.”

“Lucky.”

“Trying to get Wild Fire jealous.”

“Hard Hat.”

“Probably trying to get somepony jealous.”

“Noteworthy.”

“I don’t think he was all that serious about me.”

Rarity folded her forelegs across her chest. “He asked you out. Once a week. For three years.”

“That was just him being neighborly.”

“Oh, for Celestia’s sake!” Rarity tossed her hooves in the air. “How any mare can be so blind to the desires of stallions is beyond me, but for once, you’re focused on a stallion.” She grabbed Applejack by the cheeks and pulled her in muzzle to muzzle. “Sketchy. Is. Your. One. True. Love!”

“I’m pretty sure he ain’t.” Applejack slowly but firmly pushed her friend back. “He just needs a helping hoof, and I’m trying to provide it, is all.”

Rarity sat back in her seat, but her face stayed firm. “Just you wait, darling. You two will become special someponies. Mark my words.”

Applejack could tell arguing would be pointless, so she didn’t bother. “Let’s get back to Sketchy’s money troubles. A couple of commissions from rich ponies would help him stay on his hooves long enough to start selling pictures in the marketplace.”

“Of course, dear,” Rarity waved a hoof, “consider that done already.”

“Uh, how?”

Her friend smiled. “You do realize that I am the foremost fashionista in Ponyville. My customers are also some of the most wealthy ponies in town, the kind that would happily commission artwork of themselves.”

Applejack pursed her lips in thought. “Huh, guess I hadn’t considered that, but would they agree to pay for his art just on your say so?”

“You underestimate me, darling. A few commissions from me, and the influential ponies of Ponyville will be falling all over themselves to catch up.”

“Sounds good.” Applejack paused. “Wait, so you’re gonna have Sketchy draw a bunch of sexy pictures of yourself?” She couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Rarity smirked. “Why yes, I believe I will. That won’t make you jealous or anything, will it? Arouse feelings of passion that you never knew existed, perhaps?”

“Fat chance,” Applejack said.

A nurse walked into the waiting room just then. “Excuse me, are you the two with Mr. Sketcher?”

“We are,” Rarity said.

“He’s awake, though he seems to be slightly delirious.” She blushed. “The first thing he did was offer to pay money to stare at my posterior.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “He’s fine.” Still, she got up and followed the nurse back to Sketchy’s room.

The poor stallion was looking a little worse for wear. He’d escaped without any electricity burns this time, but hot tea in his eyes had left them both red and irritated. Meanwhile, a huge bruise covered the side of his head.

Rarity rushed to his bedside and took his hoof, ignoring his attempts to get away from her. “You must forgive me for my unwarranted outburst. I feel positively dreadful for hurting you so!”

“I’m pretty sure he feels worse.” Applejack moved to the other side of his bed. “Don’t worry, Rarity knows she was wrong about you before.”

Sketchy relaxed just a little.

Applejack took his other hoof and smiled sympathetically. “How’s your head?”

“Tender.” Sketchy leaned back and closed his eyes. “I wish I could be back home.”

“And for that, I must apologize,” Rarity said. “I certainly haven’t done anything to make you feel welcome in Ponyville, but allow me to make it up to you by commissioning five of your drawings. I believe the going rate is one hundred bits per commission?” She gave Applejack a smile.

Ah, so she was getting rid of his jail fines too. Applejack smiled and nodded to her friend. Celestia only knew what that mare was thinking most of the time, but she had a heart as big as the great outdoors.

“You want to commission me?” Sketchy asked, his tone doubtful. “You haven’t even seen my work.”

“Applejack tells me it’s positively wonderful,” Rarity said. “In fact, she couldn’t stop going on about how wonderful you are.”

Sketchy’s eyes went from Rarity to Applejack, looking more confused than anything else.

“Now then,” Rarity continued, “when would you be available to produce your works of art? I’m teaching at Twilight’s school tomorrow morning, but I will be available from three in the afternoon onward.”

“Tomorrow at three is fine,” Sketchy said.

“Excellent,” Rarity sauntered to the door, swinging her tail more than was really necessary, “I’ll be waiting in my most provocative lingerie.” She winked at Applejack. “And do come alone.” Then she made her exit.

Sketchy stared at her with the level of confusion that most ponies reserved for their dealings with Pinkie Pie. “What … was that?”

“I’m pretty sure she was trying to make me jealous,” Applejack said, rolling her eyes.

“By shaking her butt in your direction?” Sketchy asked. “That doesn’t make sense. Her butt isn’t nearly as attractive as yours is.”

A slow smile worked its way across Applejack’s face. “Sketchy, do me a favor and tell Rarity that when we go over tomorrow.”

“We?” Sketchy repeated. “She instructed me to come alone.”

“And give her a few hours to fill your head with all sorts of her nonsense?” Applejack shook her head. “Not likely.”