Login

Rarity Makes You Beautiful

by anonpencil

Chapter 1: A Very Hairy Situation Indeed...


You stand outside of Rarity’s boutique, eyeing the front door with distaste, but also desperation. It’s been a little over a month since you got to Ponyville, and the situation has gotten too hairy for you to handle anymore. You really mean that, too. Without a razor, or anything sharp enough to form a razor’s edge, you haven’t found a way to get rid of any of your facial hair. Sure, a little beard might not be so bad, but this is growing down your neck, it tickles your nose, and you’re way past the sandpaper stage. Truth be told, you’re bordering on yeti status, and it’s too hot this week for you to stand it anymore.

It’s time to face it: you need a shave. There’s just one problem.

In all your searching, you have yet to find any pony around here who actually shaves. All the horses are covered with hair anyway, as Twilight so bluntly put it, and why would they need to take any of it off? That would make them naked! You figured the spa down the way might have something, but no luck. They mentioned something about hot wax, but you got the feeling they weren’t referring to some sort of beauty treatment. You could check yourself into the hospital, where you know they must have razors for surgeries, but with those healthcare premiums? As if.

So, instead, here you are. You have nowhere else to turn, and with all Rarity’s beauty knowledge, and need of sharp implements for sewing purposes, maybe she can help you. The two of you have never really seen eye to eye before, or even spoken much, but Twilight said she was a good and generous friend, always willing to lend a hoof. It’s worth a shot, at the very least.

You muster up just enough courage and knock soundly on her front door. From inside, you hear a bustle of movement, then a melodic voice rings out.

“Coming! Just a moment!”

You wait patiently until you hear Rarity’s hoof steps approaching the door. For a split second, you wonder if this might be terrible mistake. Then the door opens before you can change your mind, and it’s too late. You put on your best smile as Rarity looks you up and down, then beams at you.

“Why Anon, what an unexpected surprise!”

“Er, hey Rarity,” you mumble out, smooth as ever. “I was just around and I had a… I wondered… Could I possibly come in?”

Her smile doesn’t falter for a second as she steps back from the entrance of her boutique.

“But of course my dear, come right inside. Sorry for the mess, I’m working on a new dress design, but I’m happy to help with whatever’s troubling you.”

As you step forward, you see several rolls of fabric leaning against the wall, with more scraps of similar hues across the floor. A pale model of a horse, without features or expression, stands draped in a silver cloth, pins sticking out of it at odd angles. Other than that, you don’t see much of a mess, and Rarity looks like she’s just stepped out of a salon. You have a moment of jealousy over how well she seems to deal with stress.

“Thanks,” you say, trying not to mule this time. “I don’t mean to disturb you, especially in the middle of a project.”

“Not at all, not at all,” she says with a wave of her hoof as she shuts the door behind you. “Always glad of company, you’ll be a welcome distraction.”

You’re not sure where to sit, considering you only see a bed in one corner, a strange therapist-style couch against one wall, and just a whole lot of horse mannequins everywhere else. You’re even tempted to sit on the floor, but instead decide on watching Rarity to see what she’ll do.

“So,” she says brightly. “Would you like some tea first, or is this business urgent? Fashion related? Questions about your new life in Ponyville? Really, I’m all ears.”

Thankfully, you see her gesture to a small stool tucked behind one of the mannequins, and you quickly pull it out and take a seat. She simply sits down in front of you on a pink tufted pillow and smiles jovially. You’d never know that the two of you weren’t best of friends.

“Actually,” you say haltingly, “I had a question about… how to say… beauty treatments.”

Her smile flickers, and she tilts her head.

“Beauty treatments? Pardon me Anon, but I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“It’s just,” you go on, stumbling over almost every word. “Back on earth, humans have all sort of beauty tools and techniques in order to take care of their appearance. Girls have makeup, like a paint for their eyelids, lips, and cheeks. Guys don’t tend to wear that stuff, but they do try to keep themselves groomed, you know. They do their hair nice with gel, and they bathe and treat their acne sometimes if they’re not a slob, and they shave.”

She nods, seeming to keep up with you thus far, but she falters a little on the last word. You rush to explain further.

“Humans really care a lot about their facial hair. Some people wear beards, just a lot of facial hair around the chin. Some wear a mustache, which is right below the nose, I’ve seen some fake ones that Pinkie Pie uses in fact. But more often, humans like to shave the hair on their face off. Some people just look better that way, and I’m one of those people.”

You point to your uneven beard.

“I’m bad at growing beards,” you say. “It doesn’t come in evenly, it’s patchy, it has a red streak in it, and it itches. Oh my fucking god, it itches so bad! It’s hot and uncomfortable, food gets stuck in it… I’m just not one of those people who should have a beard. But in order to take it off, I need a razor, or something that will cut the hair super close to the skin, to get rid of it entirely. And I haven’t been able to find anything like that!”

“I see,” Rarity says with a slow nod. “So you are thus unable to go about your daily grooming routines in a way that satisfies you?”

You nod vigorously, and Rarity gives you a sympathetic frown.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that! I can just imagine how I’d feel without my weekly mud mask or hooficures! This simply won’t do. And you’re right, I do think you’d look much better without all that hair on your face.”

“I know, I know. And I figured, hey, you know about beauty and you have all sorts of specialized tools. So maybe… do you think you could…”

As you trail off, you can see Rarity’s smile return. A warm, nurturing, understanding smile, that makes you forget about any shortcomings you had concerning the mare. She reaches out and puts a hoof tenderly over the back of your hand, then gives in a gentle pat.

“Anon, you’ve come to the right mare. I can have you fixed up in a jiffy.”

You’re sure she can see the excitement that creeps onto your face.

“Really?"

“Why of course! Some clothing requires extra fine blades, and I’ve used them to shape fabric before without much problem! My hooves are steady, and I know what I’m doing with my tools, so I am confident in saying I could give you a marvelous beauty treatment.”

You blink at her. Wait, she could give you a beauty treatment?

“Oh!” you say, a little surprised. “You mean… I just figured I could borrow some things from you.”

“Nonsense!” she says with another dismissive wave of her hoof. “I would be happy to do it, especially if you’ve been stressing about it so much. Everypony needs a little pampering now and then, and I know how to both enjoy and give a good spa treatment. You can even recline on that sofa over there while I do it and just relax.”

“Thats a little… I mean, are you sure?”

“Quite positive, I’ll give you one world of a makeover!”

You can’t help but hesitate. On one hand, you do barely know this mare, even if she seems nice. Could she be messing with you, taking advantage of your desperation? That little dragon, maybe Spike was his name, did trick you into dusting a whole castle by telling you it was your royally bound duty as a friend to Twilight. You’re still not speaking to him. On the other hand, these last few weeks have been intensely stressful. You’ve been worrying about living in this new place, been stressing about your looks, trying to adapt. All at once, you can feel the weight of your entire troubles pressing down on you, right then and there. Maybe trust is a good thing. Maybe you need to let go, simply for a little while, and allow someone else to be in control. Who better than someone who thrives under pressure, like Rarity?

“Okay,” you say skeptically. “But just don’t dye my hair purple or anything.”

Rarity sighs placatingly and gives you a roll of her eyes.

“Darling, I promise you that I will only be removing hair, not styling it. And only the hair on your face, I do believe the stuff on the top of your head looks marvelous as is. Besides, blue is much more your color. Now go on and sit, sit you down, I’ll get you prepped.”

You move over to the therapist couch, as you’ve decided it must be, and recline back in it. It hugs you like a glove in its deep red soft cushions, and you let out an audible mmmmh of pleasure as some of the stress weight slides from your shoulders. Rarity winks at you.

“Oh I know, isn’t it just divine? I accidentally fall asleep there all the time between projects,” she says. “Now just a moment, I’ll be right back.”

You should probably feel more uncomfortable, lying here at the mercy of a pony you don’t know very well, but you can’t help feeling at ease. The sofa is comfy, her words are soothing, and you sense no malice in what she’s doing. Maybe Twilight was right and she’s just really helpful after all, not the prissy snob you once thought she was.

After a few moments, Rarity returns with two small ceramic bowls levitating after her. One appears to be full of wet cloth.

“Alright,” Rarity says, clapping her front two hooves together, “We’ll start by making the hair more supple and easier to cut. It’ll get softer if it’s under a few hot towels, and the steam will do wonders for your complexion. Have you ever had a hot towel treatment?”

You can’t say you have, and you also can’t say it sounds that bad. You shake your head no, and Rarity brightens.

“Well then, I can promise that the towels won’t burn, and you will be able to breathe. Just lie back with your head propped flat against the edge of the sofa, so I can work a little more easily.”

You do as she asks, staring up at her ceiling until you see Rarity’s cheery face move to cloud some of the lighting.

“Just shut your eyes and breathe normally, dear,” she instructs.

Then, you feel a warm, almost too hot, damp towel curl across half of your face and over your forehead. She quickly puts another on the other side, so they overlap. It covers most of your face, except for your nose, and as you breathe in through your nostrils, you smell a perfume of lavender water, citrus, and almonds. Instantly, any itching you felt in your beard dissipates, as quickly as the rising steam.

“Mnnnnnhhhhh,” you sigh out.

“What did I tell you?” you hear her say lightly. “You’ll have to sit here for a while, and after that I’ll shave off that nasty facial hair, treat your skin with some cream or oils, and you’ll look good as new!”

As you listen to her speak, you can feel yourself beginning to get drowsy. The sweet-scented steam, the warmth on your face, the softness of the sofa, even the way Rarity talks, it’s enough to make you feel dreamlike. You can feel the word around you begin to blur at the edges, but you don’t even care. Effortlessly, you let yourself slip into unconsciousness and sleep.

——

You’re not sure how much time has passed before you wake up, but it’s one of the most delightful naps you’ve ever had. Your eyes open slowly, and even at just that, you can feel that your eyelids are renewed. It’s like your skin has been completely rebuilt, and every individual facial expression feels brand new. It feels clean, pure, all pressed into place. And that’s only from your initial smile as you wake.

With a muted yawn and stretch, you raise your head from the sofa and glance around Rarity’s work room. Sure enough, you see her a few feet off, sewing away on the new dress she’d put on hold in order to help you.

“Hey,” you say dreamily. “Sorry about falling asleep on you like that!”

She turns to look at you, and instant joy rushes to her features.

“Oh good, you’re awake!” she says. “You seemed so tired after that first towel treatment that I just let you sleep. I was ever so careful as I did the shaving, I hope it is to your expectations?”

“I’ll say! My whole chin feels lighter!”

With these words, you reach up and run your hand over your chin. There’s no stubble, no stray hair, no chafed skin. Instead, you feel your own smooth chin, like an old friend you have not seen in weeks. You run your hand over the rest of your lower face too, and can feel the sharp edges of your sideburns, not too long or too short. You can also feel how soft your skin is from whatever cream she used on you, and you honestly can’t think of another time when you’ve felt so babyfaced. Yes indeed, everything seems…

You pause briefly as your hand passes over your forehead. Wait, something’s not right there.

You move your hand again and, sure enough, you feel nothing but smooth softness. Nothing else. It’s… too smooth there.

“Hey, can I have a mirror?” you say, dread beginning to edge in.

Rarity nods and points to one on the wall. You practically leap off the sofa and rush to the mirror, frantic to see if it’s true. What you see is enough to make you yelp in shock.

It’s true, Rarity did shave off all your facial hair. All of it. Including your eyebrows.

“What the shit, Rarity!” you practically shriek.

She jumps at your sudden tone change.

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“What the fuck did you do! You… you shaved off my fucking eyebrows!”

“Well of course,” she says. You turn to look at her, but she’s already rolling her eyes. “I got rid of all that overgrown facial hair, just as you asked.”

“Eyebrows are not facial hair!” you sputter.

“They’re hair, and they’re on your face, thus facial hair.”

“Okay, well, they’re still a part of my face, not just excess hair! I just wanted you to get the beard!”

“Well honestly, Darling, you should have said that,” Rarity says with another eye roll. “How was I to know there were parts you wanted to keep? Besides, I think you look better this way. They looked a bit disgusting, like a pair of chipmunks were hibernating on your face.”

This is enough to give you pause. You’re almost trembling with rage.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Better?” you shout. “I look like some weird plastic love doll! I look like a wax dummy before any hair is added! I look like my whole face is just the soft underside of a salamander!”

“You seem angry,” Rarity says with a tilt of her head.

“Oh, what was your first clue?!”

“Well, to be honest, it’s a little hard to tell,” she admits with a shrug. “Your voice says angry, but your face says… calm.”

“That’s because I have no damn eyebrows!" you yell. "I can’t even glare at you right!”

“If it bothers you that much,” she says soothingly. “I have some items here that could help me draw on a new pair.”

“Oh please, I’m not a chubby girl in a gang, and I’m not a drunk teenage white chick. That won’t work for me.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing, nothing but… how could you do this to me!” you wail. “I’m hideous!”

“Now now,” Rarity says, reaching out to pat you. You pull away from her, still furious, but she continues speaking anyway. “I said I thought you looked better, and I meant that. Pony’s don’t tend to have eyebrows if they know how to groom themselves properly, and they looked… downright unnatural on you.”

Even through your fury, you suddenly realize that she’s right. Holy shit… ponies don’t have eyebrows! Except that one who was friends with Twilight, but you only saw her once and you’re pretty sure Twi’s completely forgotten about her again at this point. The other ponies all seem to be completely and utterly brow-less. If you think really hard, you can recall their expressions, and it’s more that the tops of their eyes just arched and moved, and that was somehow enough to emote. It’s a strange realization.

“That’s… true,” you say haltingly. “But that doesn’t change that humans are supposed to have eyebrows!”

Rarity blinks in surprise, then seems to think on this a moment. At last, she nods.

“I see. Well. I certainly learned something today then.”

“Is that all you’re going to say?!”

“What would you have me say!” she says with a helpless gesture. “I think you look quite dashing like this, and I think the ponies will love the new you! But if you don’t think so-”

“I really don’t,” you snap. “I don’t think a single damn pony wouldn’t laugh their horse’s ass off at me just from a single glance.”

This is enough to make Rarity hesitate, then a knowing smile slowly curls on her face. You don’t like the look of it, it’s already too smug, too cunning. She leans towards you, almost seductively, eyes half closed, expression confident. You're sure if you had eyebrows, they'd be arching upward in fear and suspicion.

“Would you care to make a wager on that?” she says sweetly.

——

You smile politely at the small green mare as she winks an eye at you and turns to walk away. She glances back one more time, blushing, and waves a hoof like a schoolgirl saying hi to a sempai who finally noticed them. You wave back at her, doing your best to hide your bitterness, then quickly stuff the third unsolicited phone number you’ve gotten tonight into your pants pocket. Grumbling to yourself, you signal the bartender to get yet a third glass of red wine for Rarity at the end of the bar.

“Well well,” she says, sidling up to you with a triumphant grin. “Did I not say that ponies would think you more attractive this way?”

“I still think I look ridiculous,” you growl, mostly upset at being brow beaten.

“And I’m sorry for that, I really am, but you can’t argue with results!” she chirps. “You’re the toast of the town tonight, I dare say you’ll have to beat off mares with a stick now. And all it took was a little alteration in the right places.”

You continue to grumble to yourself as she nudges you with her hip, almost pushing you off the stool.

“I guess you were right, as usual,” you say glumly, “But did you have to order red wine as a wager drink? It’s like the best and most expensive thing on the menu!”

Rarity glances up at you, her smug palpable, and gives a haughty toss of her purple curls. Then, as they bounce back into their perfect place, she tilts her head and winks at you impishly.

“Why darling, I am nothing if not a high brow pony.”

-End-

Author's Notes:

Enigma gave me this idea. I guess he thinks that makes him special or something. He also has a Patreon and stuff. It's garbage, just like him. Either way, hope you guys enjoyed this.

Return to Story Description

Login

Facebook
Login with
Facebook:
FiMFetch