[RGRE] Apple Bloom calls Anon "Daddy"


                                            >You are Anon, and you work for the Apples on their farm.

                                            >Applejack was dubious at first, but your performance impressed her enough to allow you to keep your job.

                                            >...also, you might have done your job in tight shorts and without a shirt on, but that's neither here nor there.

                                            >Because your job isn't important. What's important is that you live on the farm in exchange for three square meals, a quick way to get to work (open door; step out door), and a good chunk of pay taken from your paycheque.

                                            >And more importantly than that important importance is that you are an Apple Bloom-wrangler extraordinaire.

                                            >And that's an important job to get done.

                                            >That little filly tries to climb a tree filled with sap? You're there plucking her out of the tree with your superior height and giving her belly-tickles.

                                            >She's up past her bedtime because she's having a hard time with her homework? You scoop that little filly into your lap and patiently help her work her way through it herself.

                                            >Is she upset that she's being bullied at school? You give her a hug and remind her that she's worth ten of Diamond Tiara.

                                            >And then you take her out for ice cream and make her laugh so hard it squirts out her nostrils.

                                            >Frankly, if you kept track of how much effort you put into farm-work and Bloom-work, then this seems to be more your job than your ACTUAL job down on the farm.

                                            >But you're thankful for the opportunity the Apples gave you, but all that physical labour prepared your body for keeping up with an excited little filly-shaped bundle of energy.

                                            >"C'mon, Anon! Faster!"

                                            >You give a laugh and mock-chase after Apple Bloom as she darts (read: tiny-baby-horse gallops) between the apple trees of the east acre.

                                            "I'm gonna catch you!" you yell as you make a big, obvious dive towards her

                                            >Apple Bloom giggles and dodges away from your slow movements.

                                            >"Nuh-uh! You're not!"

                                            >You growl and give a burst of speed (just for a few seconds, of course; you want to make this chase fun for her and to make her think you might actually catch up.) and Apple Bloom bolts away from you, shrieking with laughter.

                                            >You can't help but grin and wonder who's having more fun; you, or her?

                                            >Apple Bloom really is a special filly.

                                            >Like most tiny mares her age, she's all about roughhousing; colts of the same age bracket prefer tea parties and playing with their dolls.

                                            >Bloomy here is an unquenchable fountain of energy, and she's right at about the age where doing something like this where you chase her around is more-or-less required if you want her to fall asleep before 1 in the morning.

                                            >And you had BETTER, because she has to wake up at 6 for some basic farm chores before she heads off for school.

                                            >And you've learned from experience that a tired Apple Bloom is a grumpy Apple Bloom, and grumpy little fillies don't want to do their homework and will only eat their horse-vegetables if you put her on your lap and hand-feed them to her (under protest, of course).

                                            >"Anon? Anon, I'm over here!"

                                            >Apple Bloom's voice tears you out of your distracted reverie, and you turn to find her standing just a few yards away from you, looking decidedly a mixture of excited and impatient.

                                            >Almost like Winona when you she brings you her leash at an inopportune moment and you can't take her out for a walk.

                                            >Or Applejack when she's gotten into a bit of the cider and wants to, quote-unquote, "wrassle".

                                            "Ahh, I found you!" you say, growling and speaking in a mock-monster voice, "Now I'll get you! I'll scoop you up and then I'll throw you right into the swimmin' hole!"

                                            >You take off towards her, much to Apple Bloom's obvious joy.

                                            >God, you remember when you were in her position back when you were a kid. You loved being chased so much.

                                            >"You can't catch m-ooph!"

                                            >Your heart skips a beat when Apple Bloom misjudges a step and trips over a tree root, toppling into a rolling pile of adorable tiny horse.

                                            >After a heart-pounding moment, Apple Bloom rolls onto her back. A quick once-over with your eyes lets you know that she's just fine, minus a little scrape on one of her horse-knees.

                                            >Sensing that the game is at an end (and also sensing that you're really tired and want to get something cold to drink), you leap at her and scoop her up into your arms.

                                            >The filly shrieks and immediately begins to wriggle around and flails her legs

                                            "I gotcha! I got you, Bloomy!"

                                            >"No! Anon, p-put me down!"

                                            >Apple Bloom laughs as she gently pushes at your chest and face with her forehooves. She isn't putting much force into her shoves, and that combined the glee on her face makes it pretty clear that she doesn't really want you to put her down.

                                            >This is all part of the game.

                                            >Tired, sweaty, and ready to take a nap like the gross old man you are, you start walking back to the farmhouse.

                                            >All this running had dragged you all the way from the east-most border of the Apple's property and to just a few hundred yards from the farmhouse itself, so it's not that far a walk.

                                            >[spoiler]You're starting to understand what Applejack means when she tells you you've got 'foal-chasing legs'.[/spoiler]

                                            >[spoiler]You're still not sure why Bic Mac gets so pissed off when he's around when she says that to you, though.[/spoiler]

                                            "You know what little fillies get when the big, bad human catches them?"

                                            >Apple Bloom finally calms down and settles into your arms, forelegs curled up against her chest and the aftershocks of giggles running through her body.

                                            >"Wh-what's that?"

                                            >You grin.

                                            "Raspberries!"

                                            >"What? A-Anon, no!"

                                            >You lift Apple Bloom up to your face and immediately blow the loudest raspberry you can manage into her belly.

                                            >It's a little difficult with all that fur, but you've gotten plenty of practice during your unofficial baby-sitting sessions with her and her two little friends.

                                            >Apple Bloom shrieks with laughter and starts bapping you on the head with her widdle hoofsies.

                                            >"Stop it! A-Anon, it tickles! C-C'mon, Daddy, stop!"

                                            >Your current raspberry pitters off into an unpleasant fart noise as what Apple Bloom just called you registers in your brain.

                                            >...

                                            >What did she just call you?

                                            >Hoo-boy.

                                            >Oh, wow.

                                            >That sure is dragging some unfamiliar feelings up to the surface.

                                            >You're feeling mighty paternal right now, and you aren't sure what you're supposed to do with it.

                                            >You pull back and look down at her; her expression of surprise probably mirrors your own.

                                            >You don't think either of you expected her to say that, judging by her ears flopping against her skull and the look of bowel-voiding horror on her face.

                                            >You're not unfamiliar with calling a non-parent 'mommy', so you feel some sympathy embarrassment for the poor filly.

                                            >Apple Bloom's yellow-furred face is turning red as she blushes so hard and so quickly that you're actually worried for just a moment that she's about to pass out.

                                            >Thankfully, you are spared the awkward moment when Applejack saunters in from stage right, just as Apple Bloom buries her face in her hooves.

                                            >>"Is that who Ah think it is?"

                                            >While initially looking at you the same way you look at a cake (minus the drool coming out of the corner of your mouth), Applejack finally spots Apple Bloom in your arms, and the expression melts into pure "that's the most adorable shit I've ever seen in my life".

                                            >She peers up from her sister to you and gives you a wolfish grin.

                                            >>"Were you playin' with Bloomy here while y'all shoulda been workin', Anon?"

                                            >Oh, shit.

                                            >Right.

                                            >Your job.

                                            >The reason you're here.

                                            >>"If Ah knew Ah was hiring you to be takin' care of Apple Bloom, Ah might not've give you as much guff for belonging to the fairer sex, Anon."

                                            >If not for the teasing twinkle in her eye and the smile playing on her lips, you'd be worried that Applejack was legitimately pissed off at you.

                                            >Apple Bloom chooses this moment to pipe up, wriggling around like a cat that doesn't want to be held until you kneel down and gently put her down.

                                            >"I-It was my fault, Applejack! I wanted to play and I didn't leave Da-non alone until he played with me."

                                            >D'aww, she's trying to keep you out of trouble.

                                            >You guess she really did mean it when she'd tell you that she wanted to grow up big and strong so that she could 'take care of you'.

                                            >She's SO getting an extra bedtime story tonight.

                                            >Applejack quirks an eyebrow at that, but lets it slide. Mostly because she knows that getting Apple Bloom to expend some energy is important for bedtime; she had to deal with a sleepy, grumpy Apple Bloom for years before you arrived here in Equestria.

                                            >>"Well then, little lady," Applejack drawls, swatting at her little sister, "You'd better get back to the house and wash up for dinner. We're having-"

                                            >And she rattles off a list of apple-themed meals while you mentally tune that out.

                                            >After a few seconds, Apple Bloom makes an impatient noise in her throat and nods earnestly, eager to leave the scene.

                                            >With a backwards glance back to you, Apple Bloom gallops away towards the house.

                                            >You and Applejack watch her go, neither of you saying a word.

                                            >You wait until the little yellow filly disappears into the house and the door slams with a reverberating echo before you turn to each other.

                                            >Applejack's looking at you the same way you look at cake, again.

                                            >Or, you guess it's more accurate to say that she's looking at you the same way she looks at apple pie.

                                            >>"So," she drawls, "You comin' in for soup, 'daddy'?"

                                            >Welp.