#blue bird tea set

[faaun]

non-zero amount of swans and a non-zero amount of lakes.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here. 

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour. 

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors. 

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape. 

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones. 

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast. 

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well. 

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

[cas-per-420]

Neuvillette as your sugar daddy

small lil things about neuvillette being your sugar daddy :)

(includes: sex, smut, fluff, mentions of menstruation, mentions of being gagged, bondage, overstimulation, and orgasm denial, sugar daddy and sugar baby dynamic, neuvilette being sweet and a caring sugar daddy and Fem reader)

Neuvillette x Fem!Reader

NSFW and FLUFF below the cut

You didn't know what you were getting yourself into but it's not like you could complain, especially when your sugar daddy loves to spoil you so much. he does do it with an equal price, after all it isn't free. As long as he gets to rut his fat cock into your soaked pussy, he'll give you everything you desire; clothes, new pretty lingerie (that ends up on the floor whenever you try it on with him in the room), designer bags, shoes and much more.

neuvillette is a very busy man but whenever you swing by his home or work he's always got time for his sweet sugar baby, whether it's just talking to him or bending you over the nearest counter and fucking you senseless. 

You sometimes get ashamed of the age gap between you but your sugar daddy is always there to tell you that it doesn't matter, as long as it's consensual it's okay. After talking to you about your worries he'll bring you a cup of tea and some cake to relax you, making sure you're okay because your feelings matter to him so much.

sometimes when he's in a work related meeting his phone will start to go off, the sound he chose signalled that it was you who was messaging him. when he opened the message he saw a picture attached to a text saying something about trying on a new set, he then looked at the picture which was you in a royal blue thong and bra with your legs spread wide and a vibrator shoved deep inside your cunt. he quickly stood up to go to the bathroom and rubbed one out but you knew that you would definitely not be walking for the next day.

you knew better than to be a brat but you loved the punishments it came with, and he does too. you'd be overestimated or denied of an orgasm, you'd be spanked, tied up and even gagged but if it does get too much and you end up using the safe word, he'd be quick to hold you close and apologise over and over again being the big softie he is. You know he'd never hurt you or do anything to make you upset so it's extremely rare to have an argument or for him to make you upset, and if he does you should expect a large bouquet of roses and tons of chocolates at your doorstep.

if its your time of the month do expect him to go full on mama Bird on you. he'd be making sure your taking pain killers if your cramps are bad, making sure your heating pad/hot water bottle is warm, and making sure you eat three meals a day. he does understand when you yell at him for no apparent reason then start to cry, he'd be there to comfort you in every moment, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible and taking your mind off of the cramps and blood. Just because he's your sugar daddy doesn't mean he's not capable of caring and loving for you.

~fin~

( I hope you liked it, ik it's a bit messy, but who cares)

[little-diable]

Chi, I'm here to request a smutty Tommy blurb if you're still accepting them. I can't stop thinking of the garden scene you wrote recently and now I'm hoping you'll be inspired to cont that thought OR write something between Tommy x reader which finds them giving into their passion outdoors. I think you're onto something about this setting being relaxing for Tommy 😉

My love!! Thank you for this, I truly love this pairing just as much. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: No direct follow up to this, but the same vibes, just pwp, Tommy eats out his wife in their garden

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), outdoor

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (800 words)

“I think this was the first time they didn’t cry,” (y/n) whispered her words to her husband as she sat down next to him. She had just waved goodbye to her father who had taken her and Tommy’s children with him for the weekend.

“They’re growing up.” Tommy kept his eyes closed, smoking his cigarette as he enjoyed the sun rays dancing over his pale features. The soft summer breeze wrapped itself around them, teasing the two lovers. 

“Don’t act like I didn’t catch you close to tears as Emma told you she won’t need another bedtime story last week.” With a sigh Tommy opened his eyes, shaking his head at his scowling wife before rolling his head back towards the sun. 

“Don’t rub it in, eh? I can’t let my wife run her mouth and destroy my image without paying the price for it.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her laughs from rumbling through her, leaning closer to kiss Tommy’s warm jawline. The hum leaving her husband left (y/n) grinning and squealing as he tugged her closer, landing on his lap. “So, we’ve got the house to yourselves now, don’t we?” 

“What’s your plan, Mister Shelby?” Their eyes met, his full of excitement and mischief, hers filled with curiosity and longing. He pulled her in for a slow kiss, allowing her to taste cigarettes and tea on his tongue, a mixture she had learned to love over the past years, adjusting to the way Tommy Shelby lived two different lives as a cruel gangster and as a loving family man. 

“First, I want to get a taste of my wife, right here only for my eyes to see.” Tommy rose to his feet with (y/n)’s legs wrapped around his waist. “And then I’ll fuck you through the night.” 

“I certainly won’t stop you from doing so.” She was placed down on the ground, on the blanket their children had sat on this morning, keeping their clothes clean before driving off with their grandparents. (Y/n)’s eyes followed his every move, watching Tommy push her dress up to her waist, groaning at the sight of her bare cunt. “Took off my underwear after they left, I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to grow impatient.”

“A smart woman I’ve got on my hands, eh?” He smirked at her before he buried his face between her thighs, tongue brushing through her slit, tasting her arousal. The birds sang in the distance, yet not loud enough to drown out her moans, the beautiful sounds clawing through her as Tommy ate her out. 

He loved the sounds rumbling through her whenever he touched her, only his to pick up on, his to coax out of her. Tommy had his wife at his mercy, ready to feast on her, to turn her into a trembling mess as he towered over her with his cock twitching in excitement and his heart racing from the adrenaline thumping through him.

“You taste so sweet, fuck, I could die between your thighs, darling.” He groaned his words against her cunt as his fingers found her pulsing bundle. Cruses left (y/n) at the touch, forcing her to arch her back off the blanket, eyes focused on the blue sky above. He always managed to push her close to the edge within a few seconds, leaving her gasping and trembling for him only.

“Jesus, Tom, you’re too good at that.” A proud grin tugged on his lips as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, feeling her walls tense around the strong muscle. She was close, ready to let go with his name leaving her – the first orgasm of many to come. Her fingers tightened their grip on the blanket, trying to hold onto it as the intense feeling washed through her.

It was a spectacle so beautiful, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of his brain, imagining the most beautiful sight he could come up with. But the moans were too powerful, and the trembling of her body was too real, leaving him chuckling as he watched her fall apart.

“I won’t say no to spending the next few hours like that.” (Y/n)’s breathless whispers drew another laugh out of Tommy as he crawled up her body, meeting her lips in a slow kiss.

[asidian]

Set breakdown time! Next up: Niko's room.

As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!

1: Niko's mom's name! This part is her and Niko's surname. The kanji are 佐��木.

佐 – sa, meaning help or aid

々 – an iteration mark. When you see this, basically it means "exactly what the last one said, one more time." So another sa meaning help or aid

木 – ki, meaning tree

It's really neat that they picked a last name for her that doubles down on her role in the narrative. Just like Niko is there to support and help other characters in whatever way they seem to need, her surname hammers it home by including 佐 not once but twice.

2: Riza (リザ) Niko's mother's given name. Somewhat odd here is that it's written in katakana and not kanji. Without getting sidetracked too much (you can pop over here to read more if you're interested) most Japanese people write their names in kanji.

Katakana seems like a bit of a strange choice here, unless a) Niko for some reason doesn't know the kanji for her own mother's name (weird, given that she's in high school) b) her mother is a foreigner (a possibility; foreigners usually write their names in katakana) c) the set designer/whoever prepped the letters didn't know the appropriate kanji for "Riza" (seems unlikely, given how accurate all the rest of this is) or d) some sort of personal habit. An interesting side note is that her letter to Niko also puts Niko's name in katakana.

3: Cutesy stationery, used for marking your place in a document or book

4: A cute blue purse!

5: Watermelon! Judging by the shiny material and placement near the other bag, I'm going to guess this is another purse

6: Niko's clothes :>

7: Pink luggage

8: Lots of instant noodles

9: A rice cooker

10: Rice vinegar

11: This girl LOVES her some plants

12: Probably food items…? The one on the right looks like it might be a five-pound bag of rice, but I don't recognize the brand

13: Lots of unwashed dishes

14: A toaster oven

15: Chopsticks

16: A cute octopus pillow. I think I saw someone mention that it's from Ikea :>

17: She often leaves dirty dishes sitting on the bedside table

18: A painting of what seems to be a skyscape

19: Brightly colored pillows

20: Metal art in the shape of a moon

21: A decorative window hanging

22: More plants :)

23: Candles

24: Her tv

25: Cute pens with pompoms on the end

26: Regular tape

27: A cute cat statue

28: Marble Pop Ramune, strawberry flavor. Ramune is a type of soda that's a popular festival drink in Japan. It's sealed with a  glass marble and you have to pop the marble down into the little catch basin before you can drink it.

29: Anime wall décor

30: Fruit jelly cups. In Japan, small gelatin based snacks like this are popular. They're tiny, about an inch tall, and you eat them in just one or two bites.

31: Niko's laptop. She has stickers on it

32: Washi tape! It's decorative Japanese tape, often with bright colors and patterns, used for crafting.

33: A lot of cute magnets, including the bunny one, which serves double-duty as a kitchen timer

34: Niko's grocery list. The only thing on here that's here because she wants it is strawberry ice cream. The rest of the items, licorice tea, manuka honey, and Epsom salts, are all natural remedies. She's been trouble-shooting how to get rid of the effects of the sprites. She knows she's sick, but not why

35: Cutesy craft supplies! Sequins, glitter, and pompoms

36: More washi tape!

37: Niko's manga collection. She is that particular brand of organizational mess that does not put her numbered volumes in order. She has made an exception for the series that makes a complete picture when you line them up, though

38: More plants :)

39: Manga posters! Issho is one of the series that she has on her shelf

40: A decorative jar

41: Little metal bird sculptures

42: What seems to be the only framed picture in her room. The angle is wrong to see what the photo is, but it's interesting that they added just one in here. Maybe it's her family…?

[lxvebun]

Sleepy mornings with Suguru brainrot😩🩷

Notes: fics are a little less edited and checked because I don't have access to my pc rn. So I hope it still looks okay!

Content: Suguru x gender neutral reader. Sickeningly sweet morning fluff! Kissing. Consensual kisses while asleep/half asleep. Eng is not my first language. Not entirely proofread lmk if there are any annoying mistakes!

Suguru is an early riser. He finds comfort in getting up at dawn. birds softly chirping their morning song and air crisp and fresh, gently swaying the curtains as the sunlight filters through . The moment the star clustered dark blue sky begins to show orange and golden streaks of sunlight, he's out of bed and running about doing household chores that really can wait until later but he insists on doing now.

Now while the air still feels fresh, now that it's early enough to set the tone for the day. His heart beats a little easier knowing everything is taken care of. Knowing you are taken care of. Even in the smallest of ways like cleaning up last nights dishes so you awake to a nice and clean kitchen, or putting the throw blanket into the dryer so it's nice and toasty for when you eventually stumble out of the safety and warmth of your bed to face the morning breezes coming through the kitchen window

He doesn't enter the bedroom again other than occasionally peeking his head through the crack of the door when he hears you move. Busy wiping down the kitchen counters or watering the flowers. footsteps coming through in your dreams.

All while your sleepy self is missing his body warmth, the rise of his chest against your back and the comforting weight of his arms around your waist. You're not cold, he made sure of that by tucking you in just a little more before leaving the bed. Leaving behind a constellation of kisses to your warm cheeks and sleep ridden eyelids, airy chuckles floating around the room as you whine for him to stay just for 5 more minutes. His Kisses are laced with tenderness and adoration intertwined with silent prayers soothing you back to sleep. you prefer his warmth over the cozyness of the blankets, but in your sleepy haze you'll settle for it for now.

This goes on until it's around the time you usually get out of bed, something his own internal clock has memorized for you as well.

Only then he'll crawl back in bed with you, breakfast ready to be prepared in the kitchen, a mug of hot tea with honey on your nightstand, words of affection and sickeningly sweet kisses resting on his lips and arms wide open for you to crawl into<3

Oh to have the privilege of seeing sleepy suguru early in the morning😩🩷

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

[honey-milk-depresso]

dating HCs for Clotted Cream and Stardust Cookie?

CRK Dating HCS with Clotted Cream and Stardust!

Clotted Cream Cookie

He’s a sucker for classy, candlelit dinner dates, so he would definitely do that with you.

He’d probably sneak the two of you out of the convocation building to the garden outside, to the place he usually goes to have time for himself.

Clotted Cream hopes you like it, he consulted with Financier to set up a nice spot with crisp white tablecloth with gold linen and fancy blue cushioned chairs to keep you comfy there. The waterfalls that forms streams of burbles as it travels along its bed, bubbling over rocks and branches behind you, the cream white pillars standing in peaceful silence and blue birds that fly around and watch the two of you on your date as the warm candles around you create the romantic atmosphere that he wants to create.

Of course being the gentleman he is, he pulls your chair for you and lets you sit down first with that charming and charismatic smile of his. His heart however is thumping so fast out of anxiety. He knows he’s got nothing to fear, but he just doesn’t want to screw up anything.

The date is quiet and peaceful, with playful banter between you two, Clotted Cream sliding a little flirty and respectful compliment here and there as the two of you laugh gently and quietly into the night, his hand on top of yours.

Top quality food is what you deserve! Clotted Cream prepared a wide variety of food for you both: with a high tea set, served on fancy plates and made by the top chefs of the Creme Republic. It’s only natural, after all.

Clotted Cream can’t help but smile warmly (or like a lovestruck idiot-) as you laughed at his joke quietly and sweetly with that beautiful smile of yours, the candles illuminating your presence in a warm glow like the angelic being you are to him. <3

Stardust Cookie

He planned a date with you across the cosmos, no surprise, but with a twist.

Stardust wanted to impress you (or at least show that he’s trying his best here) and took time to learn about Earthbread-bound concepts into the date, to make it more ✨romantic✨.

Obviously, it’s his first time even having any sort of outing with one cookie, and you’re just so important to him he’s nervous maybe he’ll flunk it. He’s foreign to this concepts and he’s scared but he wants to show he loves you dearly.

With the help of Milky Way, Space Doughnut, Gingerbrave and Friends, Stardust managed to put together a picnic for you outer space on a planet he used to find solitude in, but now he has someone to be with him and that somebody is you. He’s pretty much only got Earthbread snacks (and stuff Space Doughnut likes) and was pretty nervous whether you’ll judge him for his choices, or that they are even good in the first place. Of course, you reassure him that you’re having a wonderful time, it’s true! As the two of you enjoy the cosmos from your view, leaning your head on his shoulder and in a warm embrace.

Alternatively, it’s another candlelit dinner date but in Milky Way’s Express Train! She decided to go off duty for the day, just for you two! Stardust is immensely grateful for her help, and she and Space Doughnut acts as his two wingmen for the whole date as caterer and also the driver, Milky Way we still need you to operate this train-

Space Doughnut serves you every Earthbread food Gingerbrave and friends recommend, and just for you two they resist eating any of them although you two definitely gave them some food to share which they were happy about.

You and Spacedust look out to the window, the moving train showing breathtaking landscapes of the cosmos, galaxies swirling with such sparkle and glamour as he holds your hand in his. He briefly turns back to you, seeing you face the window with a peaceful smile before you turned to face him when you felt him staring and smiled back at him sweetly. His heart melts as he smiled back. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 2: Wanted and Needed

Pairing: dark!coriolanus x fem!reader

Summary: after spending another night in the palace, president snow has many things planned for you, and he just loves to dress you up.

Warning: 21+ (drinking), eventually smut, dark themes, toxic themes, kidnapping, obsession, possession, stalking

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: hello 👋🏼 ok so…i think i may be able to get another fic out today im thinking chapter 4 of Summer Highs will be ready today sooo just hang in there. this series however, the heat is turning up and we definitely got a smutty moment coming up (also im still working still The Shopkeeper’s Daughter part 2 y’all I promise I’ll get it done) so enjoy this one y’all, i know i did ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The next morning you realize that you must have fallen asleep in the bathroom as you pull yourself up from the cold tile. Your neck and back hurts and you strain to turn it. You slowly get up and walk back into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. You curl up, wanting to go back to sleep again, but you hear a knock that jolts you up.

“Yes?”

The same maid from last night enters. She’s holding a new outfit in her hand.

“Good morning. President Snow wishes to see you in this today. He also wishes to have you join him for breakfast so please change and knock when you’re done.”

“Tell him I didn’t sleep well last night and I want to rest. Please.” You plea

“I’m sorry, but these are my orders.” She frowns, holding the dress out in front of her.

You take it and hold it up. It’s a delicate blue, almost the same color as his eyes. It’s flowy, the shoulders slightly puffed out and the neckline is off the shoulder. She also hands you a pair of white heels and leaves the room. You want to cry again, but feel too physically exhausted to be able to. You begrudgingly roll out of bed and change.

Once all done up, you walk over to the door and knock on it. The maid and the two armed guards are waiting outside and you walk with them. This time they take you to a separate part of the palace, up the stairs and into a larger dining room. As you walk you take note of your surroundings, and continue plotting how you’re going to get out of here without him knowing. You might have to disappear for a while, but you’re not about to let him rip you from your life completely.

When you enter, he’s waiting, alone, sipping his tea and reading the paper. He glances up and smiles.

“Come sit my dear.“

The maid leaves, but the armed guards take their post just outside the room. You slowly walk towards and take the seat across from him.

“You look beautiful. I know how to dress you well, it seems.”

“Is this what you made the other girls wear?”

“No.” He flips the page “I tailor my outfits accordingly for each of you.”

“So what does that mean?”

“That dress, that black set? It’s yours. Anything I give you under my care is yours forever, understand?”

“Yes, President Snow.”

“Good girl. After lunch today I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and I’ll have my masseuse come see you.”

“W-why?” You scrunch your face up

“Because you need it don’t you. You slept on the bathroom floor all night.” He smiles

“Thank you.” You mumble, shyly looking away

“You truly look gorgeous this morning. I should have one of the maids curl your hair before you change for dinner this evening.”

“You want me to change again?”

“Of course my dear. One should always look as presentable as possible when they have an evening meal with guests.”

“I normally only do it for special events.” You speak up

“And dinner with the president isn’t special?” He smirks, turning the page again.

You watch him as an uncomfortable silence washes into the room. Then a few avoxes walk into the room with silver trays. Coriolanus pays them no mind, but is interested in what they contain under the stainless steel cloche. They first lay out the silverware, then lift it and serve the plates. It’s a perfectly made French omelette , topped off with chives and a small pad of butter that is still melting, with crumbled crispy potatoes sprinkled over the whole thing. Next to it sits a small slice of toast with a raspberry jam. They then sat down a tea kettle, two silver teacups and served them steaming black tea. Lastly, they leave a pitcher of orange juice and two short glasses. They quietly exit the room and Coriolanus stirs his tea before sipping it.

You look down at your plate then glance up at him. He folds the paper up, making sure the edges are crisp and clean. He notices you watching him and gives a devilish half smile.

“You can start eating if you want.”

You nod and take a bite. Immediately you can taste how smooth and creamy it is. You can taste the ingredients piped inside, an herbed goat cheese and it melts in your mouth. You savor the taste, loving the texture of the egg as it dances with the cheese. Coriolanus takes it upon himself to pour you some juice and you have a strange urge to apologize. You set down your fork and try to say sorry but he cuts you off.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind my dear, here.” He utters

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Good girl.” He whispers as you take the glass to your lips.

“So what’s after breakfast?”

“I have a meeting with the Game Makers, a more formal welcome to the new additions than a fancy gala, and you’ll be modeling those dresses I was telling you about.”

“I thought that was just a lie you told my family.”

“Not entirely. You are a model by trade after all, no?”

“I am”

“Well, we need models for this year’s games to advertise the upcoming looks and you’re a model. Seems pretty straightforward no?”

“So you just want me to play dress up for you all day then?” You question, raising an eyebrow

He gives you a stern look and cocks his head. He scoffs.

“Don’t have such an attitude, my dear. It’s not fitting for a First Lady.”

You sit wordless for a moment, scared but also pissed. Fuck him. Fuck this First Lady shit. You desperately wanted to tell him off, but you utter a small apology.

“Good. It won’t even take up your entire day, I made sure of that. After my meeting, I expect you to join me for lunch. I think you’ll like it.”

“Why is that?”

“I asked to have it be served to us in the garden. I thought I’d show you around after.”

“Around the garden?”

“Yes.” He states simply “Are you enjoying your omelette?” He asks, taking a bite of his own.

“It’s delicious. Everything you’ve served me has been amazing.” You state truthfully

“I’m glad you think so.” He smiles, then he holds out his hand. You look at it and he turns his palm over. You hesitantly place just your fingertips on top of his hand. He grasps it and pulls it forward, placing soft kisses on your knuckles. He rubs them gently, smiling at you.

“You’re so beautiful. I hope to make you mine.”

“Why do you think I will please you?”

“Hmm, I bet you don’t remember meeting me at the Gala?”

“N-no?”

He smiles wider, scanning your face to see if you remember anything at all from that night.

Coriolanus goes on to explain how he first saw you and how he approached you, asking you to join his private table. You of course said yes, so he took you by the hand and led you to his group. You sat with him, he gave you lots of wine, and eventually he sent you “home”, allegedly kissing your cheek as he got you into the car, and sent you off to his house. At some point he had indeed drugged your drink and you woke up in the palace instead. You hadn’t woken up the next day, but instead spent two days asleep, the power of the drugs had lured you into a deep sleep, and now you’re having breakfast with him.

“I have your dress from that night by the way. It looked stunning on your body. Red is a great color on you.”

“Thank you”

“Perhaps I’ll have you wear it tonight, to dinner. What do you think, my lovely?”

“I would like to have my dress back.”

“Of course. Like I said, whatever I give you is yours.”

“Well the dress was already mine.” You snicker

You immediately freeze, realizing your tongue may have gotten the best if you, but he merely reciprocates your actions.

“You can’t help but to be such a clever girl hmm?” He kisses your knuckles again

“If you say so. You didn’t answer my question though. Why do you think I’ll please you?”

“Because you were pleasant that night. Funny, charming, easy to be around. My team believes I’ve become too wild and rambunctious. They say I need to settle down and to an extent, I agree. I can’t help but want to enjoy my wealth these days. While I’m still young I don't care, if you understand me?”

You nod along and he continues.

“I figure, most people show who they really are when they meet me. Whether it’s to impress me or win over my favor, I can always see a person’s true intentions. Through whatever facade they come with, I can see their truth.”

“And did you see me then? What was my front?”

“Nothing. You had nothing to hide.” He leans forward “Which is why I find you so special.” He whispers

He rubs your hand, giving your knuckles one last kiss before letting your hand go. You pull it back quickly and relax it on your lap. Then a small ding ding ding cries out from his pocket. He digs around and retrieves his pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ah, I have to go my dear!” He claims as he returns the watch back into his jacket. He stands up and moves to stand behind your chair. He places his hands on your shoulders and massages them.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” He bends down to kiss your cheek “and then for dinner.” He kisses you again “be good today my sweets, I have something for you later if you behave. Will you be ok to dine alone for the rest of breakfast?”

You nod and he tilts your face to look at his. With the smallest touch of his forefinger, he lifts your chin so you look at him fully. Coriolanus gives you a curious frown and you know what he wants.

“Yes, President Snow, I’ll be ok to dine alone.”

“Good girl, the maid will escort you to get ready when you’re done, but take your time.”

He smirks, giving your cheek one last kiss. He squeezes your shoulders, sighs, smirks again to himself, and walks away.

You feel as if you can finally breathe, letting out an immense sigh of relief as you hear the door close. You look down at your food and don’t feel like you can realistically finish it. You stand up and knock on the door. The maid opens it and escorts you out. She takes you through the palace, not taking you back to your room.

“Where are we going?” You inquire

“The lounge, that’s where the photo shoot is happening.”

You follow her, still noting the layout of the palace as you walk around. You finally reach a set of tall double doors and the maid opens it, escorting you inside. The room is similar to his office, same crème walls, accented with gold, red Chesterfield lounge chairs

“Ah wonderful!” A man cries out as you enter the room. He’s holding a camera in one hand the other setting up the tripod stand for it to sit on. “Come in dear!” He states enthusiastically. You look around the room and notice several other people getting things together.

“H-hi” you quiver

“The President said you’re a model by trade?”

“I am”

“Splendid! Then I’ll have you change into that first dress on the rack and will move our way down.”

He points to a rack of dress and a room divider in the corner and you nod. You walk over to it and examine the dresses. It seems like they are for District 12, given they are all gray and black. Coal. Of course Snow would want the contestants to dress like this. Parade them around a bit as the very goods that are used to fuel the capital. Almost as a double reminder of who they serve. You look at the first dress. It’s a corset style top with a short length skirt. Around the bottom was a thin layer of black tulle. You take it and step behind the divider to change. You step out and a woman approaches you.

“Beautiful! Let’s fix up your hair and makeup.” She smiles, escorting you over to a vanity.

After about an hour of hair weaving and being all done up like a doll, she shows you a mirror. She’s weaved your hair into several small braids, which she then weaved into a big, ponytail, that sits directly in the top of your head. Your makeup is a clean smoky eye, and you honestly look sexy.

“Ok so it’s very simple just posing with the chairs and other parts of the room.” She explains and walks back over to the camera man.

“Ok my dear let’s have you lay out here. Back on the seat, and kick your feet up, yes, that's it lovely.” He instructs, setting up the camera to be in frame. “Up a bit more, your left leg, that's beautiful.”

You look into the camera, feeling completely comfortable for the first time since being here. This is your element. This is what you’re good at. It’s not all about looking pretty, it’s about selling the look to the audience, the viewer, the buyer and most importantly the person who wears it. You pose in a few more positions on the couch and lose yourself in the fun. That’s another part of this job you’ve liked. The fun. The freedom and the ability to dress up, almost become a different person. It transforms you.

“Beautiful. Ok let’s do a few more in the next dress. Ok dear?”

“Sounds good.”

The next dress you change into is a deep v, showing off the curves and valley of your breasts, stopping just above your stomach. It’s like a huge gemstone, every part of it beaded and bedazzled. It fits perfectly, just how the other one fits and you walk out from behind the divider.

“Oh that’s beautiful! The President sure does have good taste.”

“President Snow picked these out?”

“Of course. He does every year.” The photographer smiles, beckoning you to him. You pose in front of the couch some more, and now find that you feel slightly uncomfortable again. You can’t help but feel Snow’s eyes on you again. Perhaps he’s watching you in this room too. You try not to think of it as you stare into the camera lens, but it only makes you feel more watched.

“Hey dear? You ok?” The cameraman questions, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You smile “Just wondering about the other models. Am I going to be shooting with them?” You inquire, seeing if maybe you can talk to one and ask for help.

Maybe someone could get a message out without Snow knowing

You think.

“Not today, but tomorrow we will do all 12, right now we are just getting individuals for each district.”

“Where are the other girls?” You inquire, trying to sound casual

“District Two!”

You nod and the cameraman continues, encouraging you as you pose for him. So you have more modeling tomorrow. You wonder when he was going to tell you and that’s the last thought you have of him during the session. A few more dresses later and your stomach starts to growl. You hold it instinctively, wincing in pain.

“A few more shots and we’ll break for lunch beautiful. That’s it, look here, a little more to the left…a little more, yes perfect!” The camera flashes rapidly. “Ok team! Let’s break for lunch, we’ll come back in an hour and a half and finish up.”

The stylist starts to pack up and the cameraman starts to disassemble his tripod. One of the stylists helps you with your hair and wipes off your makeup.

“We’ll do a new style after lunch, ok dear?” You nod somberly, knowing that lunch for you means lunch with him. As you wipe the rest of your makeup off, the maid walks in with another change of clothes.

“Another outfit?” You examine it and she nods wordlessly. It’s a white dress, knee length, with slightly puffy sleeves. On top is a white hair bow and a pair of white, strapped sandals. You sigh and take it from her. By the time you change, it’s just you and the maid. You also take down your hair, it falls out, now slightly curled from being woven up. She walks you out and around the back of the palace. You eventually arrive at a big sliding glass door that opens into the garden and you can see him in the distance.

Coriolanus is admiring one of his many white rose bushes. He picks one and twirls it in his fingers. You approach him, your footsteps quiet and he doesn’t hear you at first. You step on a leaf, causing him to look up. He smiles, oh so happy to see you.

“Hello my dear.” He greets you stepping towards you.

You stop in front of him and he reaches out his hand to feel your hair. He plays with in between his thumb and forefinger. He takes in your scent, smiling greedily.

“Come darling. I know you must be hungry. Why didn’t you finish your breakfast?” He asks sweetly

Of course he knows. He must have his people keeping track of your meals, the amount you’re eating.

“Was it not good?” He follows up when you don’t answer immediately

“No, sir. It was fine, it’s just that my appetite hasn't been the same since I got here.”

“My darling, you should have told me what you wanted. I want you to be cared for well since you’re being so good for me”

“I-I am hungry though. W-what’s for lunch” you stutter

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it again.”

You walk with him through the garden and he hands you the rose he was playing with.

“For you.”

“Thank you President Snow.” You nod, taking the steam in your hand

“You’re most welcome my sweets” he smiles, his charming lips curling up almost sinisterly.

You walk a bit more, admiring the other flowers in the garden, and how green everything is. He takes you a bit further until you pass the greenhouse. Around on the other side is a neat table for two looking out into the fountains and waterways. It’s set up with silverware sets and empty wine glasses. In the center is a cylindrical wine cooler and a bottle sitting in it. You’re slightly taken aback at the slight and want to hate how beautifully romantic it is because you’re here with Snow and not someone that you actually love. That you’d actually want to be on a date with. You sigh to yourself, but he notices.

“What’s wrong my angel. Here come sit.” He pats the white iron garden chair and you reluctantly follow his orders.

“Would you like some white wine?” He asks

“Yes please. Thank you, President Snow.” You nod, taking a seat. He sits across from you and uncorks the bottle. He pours you a fair amount and then himself.

“I just recently started having a drink with lunch. It’s nice to go into the rest of the afternoon feeling less tense. And I can still get everything done.” It works out well.”

You nod and look around. It’s hard not to feel somewhat at peace in such a beautiful environment. You avoid his gaze, even though he’s eyeing you like his prey. You glance at him and take a nervous drink of your wine.

“How was your meeting?” You quip up

Coriolanus perks up at the question, his smile widening.

“I appreciate you asking my dear. So thoughtful.” He pauses, sipping his wine. “It was honestly mundane, but productive nonetheless. I’m excited for you to see this year’s upcoming games. We really want to do something new for the 20th Anniversary. “

“Sounds exciting” you lie

“My dear, do you not enjoy the games?”

“I-I never said that…”

“You didn’t need to.” He pauses again, leaning forward. “Tell me if someone you trusted, perhaps even someone you loved, betrayed you, tried to kill you, starve you out, all because they wanted what they couldn’t provide for themselves. Just to take from you, would you simply forgive them…”

“It would be hard, I don’t think I would though…”

“Exactly! Even those we hold close to us can soon turn into a predator and us, the prey. We must never forget our human nature calls for us to given into our animalistic instincts in the most desperate of times. And that’s the biggest game out of them all. Pretending to uphold civility, pretending that we don’t truly want to devour each other for power.” He gives you a devious look, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“And wanting to devour each other in other ways…”

You nervously look away, out onto the garden. He reaches across the table and tilts your chin to him.

“Look at me beautiful. Don’t be shy with me. Tell me, do you think I’m wrong?”

“No sir, you're not wrong President Snow”

“Good girl.” He whispers

He holds for face and moments later, a few avoxes enter. They once again wheel out a cart similar to the one at lunch, serving up the plates. They take the covers off and reveal what appears to be a tomato soup and a grilled cheese with bacon. It seems unusual at first and you notice how he watches your expression.

“Basil tomato soup, and grilled cheese with bacon, Gouda, white cheddar and apple slices. I think you’ll find it a unique twist on a classic.”

“It smells and looks delicious.”

“Of course. Dig in my dear.” He scoots in, taking his sandwich and biting into it. You pick up your own as well, dunking it in the soup. As soon as the flavor hits your mouth, they storm off into a wonderful dance. You’re not sure how it’s possible, but every meal is as amazing as the last. You sip on your wine to get it down and it pairs perfectly with the taste.

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow

You nod and he gives you a stern look.

“Yes, President Snow.”

“I knew you’d like it. After this you’ll finish up the photo shoot, then I’ll have the maid draw you a bath and curl your hair. I want you absolutely perfect for dinner. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir, I understand” you nod

“Excellent! So tell me how’s the shoot going?”

“Good. It’s nice to feel comfortable here. Modeling has always made me feel good about myself.”

“Does it? Tell me more.”

You're stunned. Like a deer in headlights, you feel frozen by the question. You pause for a moment and you watch as he waits patiently for your response.

“Well I guess when I was a teenager people would tell me how beautiful I was, but I had a hard time believing it and then one day a friend of mine wanted me to try on some clothes and take pictures in it and I just felt natural, I finally felt beautiful.”

Coriolanus reaches for your hand and you put it in his. He kisses your knuckles gently.

“Who ever said you’re not beautiful?” He says, a puzzled look spreading on his face

“N-no one.”

“Then why would you think that you’re not beautiful?”

You pause for a moment and look down again. He squeezes your hand, his face drooping and you gaze into his eyes. They are so mesmerizing. A deep ocean blue, and they compel you to speak freely from your heart. You stutter at first then relax once more under the feeling of his lips meeting your hand once more.

“My mother, she was very superficial when it came to physical appearance. I always felt like I had to please her by looking nice.“ you confess

Coriolanus squeezes your hand even more tight and looks down at his lap. He contains his newfound anger at your mother and then looks back up with a soft smile.

“You are truly beautiful my dear. As long as you’re in my care, I’ll make sure you always feel beautiful and never think that way again. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. President “

“Good girl.” He kisses your knuckles one last time

After lunch, he sends you off to model the rest of the dresses and you ponder his words. You think about his face, the way he looked as if he might fall apart by simply hearing about your insecurities. How he wants to fix them and cast them away from your mind. Forever. And the way he has arranged your time here. The modeling, the photoshoots, as if he knew that’s when you felt most beautiful. You want to hate it, but there is a part of you that feels cared for. Wanted. Needed. In a way you haven’t before.

꧁🝮꧂

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 4

Another touch of smut. MDNI 18+

______________________________________________________________ The Next Day. Saturday.

Anxiety. First date anxiety to be exact and it had your stomach in knots. You’d woken to no alarm, blissfully off work that day and lounging in bed for a few minutes had been nice until you were hit with a pang in your stomach when you remembered you had a date with Price that night. Suddenly, you couldn’t lay in bed anymore. Tossing off the covers and heading to the kitchen, you brewed some tea to try to calm the racing of your heart while you mentally worked through everything you’d need to accomplish today before said date.

Only after tearing through your closet did you settle on a black dress that had been hanging in the back for ages. It hugged your curves in all the right places without making you self conscious about the curves you didn’t like. You’d originally bought it for an anniversary dinner with Kit, but when he’d canceled with the excuse that his job needed him to stay late (or in reality, your cousin insisted he come over), it never saw the light of day. What better time to wear it than on a date with a new man? 

You quickly found that John Price was not one to be tardy to anything. He’d shown up five minutes before eight, waiting patiently at the door while you called from inside that you were coming. Opening the door to your flat as you wiggled on your heels, you were presented with a bouquet of hyacinths and lilacs decorated with sprigs of baby’s breath. “Johnny said they were your favorite,” Price shrugged, giving you a warm smile as you invited him in and took the flowers to inhale their sweet scent. Your eyes traveled from the bouquet to his outfit for the evening and internally groaned at how handsome he looked in the maroon button up that stretched over his chest and biceps and black slacks that you decided you wouldn’t mind seeing on the bedroom floor.

“Please, make yourself at home. I just need to get these into a vase and then we can leave,” you stated before rushing into the kitchen, Price’s eyes glued to your backside as you disappeared. Quickly, you filled a vase and dropped the bouquet into the water, admiring it with a girlish giddiness and promising yourself that you’d properly set it up once you returned. 

When you returned to the living room, Price was looking over the bookshelves surrounding your TV and you walked over to join him. “This is my favorite,” you said, reaching up to hook your finger over the spine of a well-loved book, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” Price’s gruff voice stated, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and he looked you over with an appreciative gaze. You were smart. Just one more thing to adore about their shiny new toy.

“I love the fantasy, but also the deeper meanings behind it,” you replied, blushing lightly as you took the book and put it back in its place on the shelf. “Maybe one day we’ll talk a bit more about it,” you added, knowing if you started in on the intricacies of Lewis Carrol’s famous book, you’d never shut up. Price nodded and checked his watch before his hand came to rest against the small of your back. “We should get going, little bird. We have reservations,” Price spoke softly, his mustache twitching with his words. 

John Price was known to be a man with endless self control, but you seemed to be the exception. As the two of you made your way downstairs, his blue hues stayed glued to your form, taking in the way the dress accentuated your waist without hiding your wide hips. The short kitten heels that clicked on the stairs made your calves flex and contract in a way that made his mouth water. And he couldn’t ignore the way your hair shined in the light of the lamp post outside next to his truck. 

As you not so gracefully clambered into his truck, you noticed a figure on the far side of the street bearing the same skull mask you’d seen weeks before. Why did it seem so familiar? But then Price had your attention as he climbed behind the wheel and when you looked back, the shadow was gone. It made your brows furrow, but you shook off the feeling it left you with, choosing to focus on your date. 

The restaurant was nice, not too fancy, but definitely warranted your more formal attire. “Two for Price,” he stated to the host, voice rough but polite. He’d offered you his arm after opening the truck door for you and you’d accepted, sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow. The two of you followed the host to your table in the corner, Price pulling out your chair in a show of gentlemanly chivalry before taking his seat with his back to the wall. 

The waiter arrived, greeting Price like an old friend and it made something in your chest tighten. How many other dates had he brought here? But your concerns were quickly dealt with when the prettiest man you’d ever seen approached the table. “Price! Wonderful to see you again,” the man turned to you now, leaning down to take your hand and kiss the back of it. “And you must be the pretty lass Price and So- Johnny can’t seem to stop talking about.” 

You blushed a fierce red, head turning to look at Price who seemed to be a bit pinker than before. “Aw, hush it, mate. Little bird, this is Kyle, a friend of ours and the owner’s son,” Price introduced with a small smirk and your head swiveled back to look up at the man standing next to you. “It’s a lovely restaurant. I suppose that’s where you learned to cook? Johnny can’t stop talking about your food,” you replied, giving him a kind smile. “Ah, he’d have more to say if he took more than a second to taste it. Mate inhales food like it’s going to disappear,” Kyle chuckled and raised his hand to rub the top of his head before sliding down to wrap around the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. It’s on the house, Cap.” Kyle bent to take your hand again, kissing the back before standing straight. It left you staring at the spot on your hand while Kyle winked at Price over your head before disappearing into the back. 

For now, you perused the menu even though you knew you’d be ordering a salad. “What looks good to you?” Price asked, leaning over and incidentally against you as he looked at your menu, rather than his own. “Oh, I was just going to order a salad. They look pretty good,” you muttered back, feeling heat rise on the back of your neck. “Just because I call you little bird, doesn’t mean you need to eat like one. Get a steak, or pasta. Something you’ll enjoy,” he insisted, warmth pouring from his expression. You flushed and muttered that the steak looked fantastic and he nodded, proud that you’d listened to him. “Good girl,” he praised and you were pretty sure your stomach had dropped out of your ass, the color lingering on your cheeks turning darker. 

The dinner went by without a hitch once you’d conceded that the steak was worth it and much better than your original choice of a salad. You’d surprised him when you asked the waiter for a glass of whiskey neat, adding another reason the boys would adore you. 

Afterwards, the two of you headed back to your flat, chattering along as if the pair of you weren’t essentially strangers. The closer you got, the more your previous anxiety reared its ugly head. The evening had been wonderful and John was nothing less than a perfect gentleman, so when you entered your flat with him on your heels, you offered him a drink and disappeared into the kitchen. 

Meanwhile, Price was pulling out his phone and quickly updating the boys on the night, chuckling at their outrage at the lack of information he was providing. Shoving his phone back in his pocket when he heard you coming back out, you presented him with a glass of bourbon from your stash and settled next to him on the couch with your own glass. 

“So, Cap, huh?” you pressed, watching his reaction to your inquisition. Most of the night had been about you. Your job. Your car. Why you were in England instead of the US. But you still knew next to nothing about him besides he liked his liquor hard and he could fix a car. Price grunted in response before dragging a hand down his face to scratch at his beard. “Captain. I lead a task force that is made up of the boys, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon,” his words were crisp and short, letting you know that was the only information you’d get about their jobs right now. 

But you were trying to not be a wet rag when it came to letting things lie. “I see. So that means you guys go out there and do super secret missions for the government?” you asked, tone teasing in an effort to keep the conversation light. Price nodded before getting up off the couch, making the furniture creek with the weight being lifted off of it. He paced to your window, looking down at the street below. 

You stood, kicking off your heels before joining him at the window. His gaze moved from the street back to you and you had to fight back the gasp as the piercing blue of his eyes seemed smaller, taken over by the black of his pupils. Your heart hammered as he took your glass, knocked back the remaining liquid before setting it on the window sill. His hand raised to push a stray lock of hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear before his palm was settling against the softness of your jaw.

“Tell me to stop,” Price whispered, leaning down slowly to give you a moment to process just exactly what he wanted you to stop. But you didn’t, pressing up onto the balls of your feet to close the distance. His lips were gentle against yours, ever so slightly chapped, but his mustache and beard were soft against your skin and you hummed into the kiss. Your body instinctually leaned into his, hands finding the bulging biceps under the fabric of his shirt while his free hand found the dip of your waist. 

A low growl from him and a soft sigh from you bounced between the two of you as he pulled back, his gaze meeting yours as he searched for any sign you’d like to stop. But when all he found was round eyes and a soft smile on your parted pout, he grinned and resumed ravaging your lips and tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue. 

His large hand drifted down from your jaw to wrap lightly around your throat as his thumb slid up and down over your pulse point. Your chin tilted up and he pulled away, breath heavy and hot between you as he smirked down at the pretty bird he’d caught in his trap. “Mm, as much as I’d love to take you right here in front of the window so the whole world knows who you belong to, I’m too much of a gentleman to do so on the first date,” he breathed against your lips, voice low and you almost whined in response.

His words made your legs weak at the knees, body reacting to the first hint of physical affection you’d had in months, possibly years. “What if I asked you to?” you quipped back, unaware of where your bravado was coming from. A chuckle and a shake of his head were the response you were given before he was stepping back, though his hand never left your waist while the other dropped to join it. “I would tell you to be patient, pretty bird” he growled back, his hold on his self control quickly slipping while his grip on your waist tightened.

Price rested his forehead against yours, panting softly before he let his control slip a little in a very rare ‘fuck it’ moment. His hands slid from your waist to grasp the fat of your ass through your dress, roughly pulling you to him as he pressed his lips back against yours in a heated kiss. Your own hands clutched at the front of the pretty maroon button up, tugging at the fabric in a desperate attempt to get even closer to him. He turned you, pressing you against the brick of the wall as he pinned you between it and him. 

You could feel his arousal through his trousers, pressing against the soft flesh of your tummy as the two of you kissed like rabid teens. He gathered your hands together in one of his, pinning them over your head while the other explored your curves; over your waist, your hips, down over your plush thighs. When he pulled back to rake his gaze over your breathless form, you could see his mustache curling up with his lips in a smirk before he was leaning forward to press soft kisses along your throat.

“You have no idea what we could do to you. Such a pretty little thing,” he muttered against your sensitive skin while his free hand ran up the inside of your thighs. ‘We? Who is we?’ you thought briefly before you felt the heat of his thick digits against the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your parted lips, swollen from kisses while your legs spread of their own accord and his resounding groan let you know he felt the same as you. 

Then why was he releasing you? Stepping away as he dropped his hands from your body and he regained control of himself. You looked up to him with confusion, still leaning against the wall as if your legs would give out if you tried to walk. “I told you, I’m too much of a gentleman,” he chuckled, coming back to give you one more sweet, short kiss. “Don’t worry, little bird, you haven’t seen the last of me.” 

______________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for the support! I appreciate it so much! Price is a little mean, but he'll make it up to her.

[greenwitchcrafts]

February 2024 witch guide

Full moon: February 24th

New moon: February 9th

Sabbats: Imbolc-February 1st

February Snow Moon

Known as: Eagle Moon, Horning Moon, Solmonath Moon, Bear moon, Ice Moon, Wild Moon, Raccoon Moon, Big Winter Moon, Groundhog Moon, Quickening Moon, Storm Moon, Goose Moon, Hungry Moon & Red/Cleansing Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Aquarius & Pisces

Nature spirits: House Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Brigid & Nut

Animals: Otter & Unicorn

Birds: Chickadee & Eagle

Trees: Cedar, laurel, myrtle & rowan

Herbs: Balm of Gilead, hyssop, myrrh, sage & spikenard

Flowers: Primrose

Scents: Heliotrope & wisteria

Stones: Amethyst, jasper, moonstone, obsidian, onyx , rose quartz, topaz & red zircon

Colors: Light blue & violet

Energy:  Astral travel, banishing, beginnings, breaking bad habits, creativity expressiveness, empowerment, energy working to the surface, fertility, forgiveness, freedom, friendships, future plans, growth, healing, problem solving, purification, responsibility & science

February’s full Moon is a “Micromoon” this year. Think of this term as the opposite of a “Supermoon.” It simply means that the full Moon is at its farthest point from Earth (not the nearest point).

The explanation behind February’s full Moon name is a fairly straightforward one: it’s known as the Snow Moon due to the typically heavy snowfall that occurs in February. On average, February is the United States’ snowiest month, according to data from the National Weather Service. In the 1760s, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had visited with the Naudowessie(Dakota), wrote that the name used for this period was the Snow Moon, “because more snow commonly falls during this month than any other in the winter.” 

Imbolc

Known as: Feast of Torches, Feast of Waxing Light, Oimele & Brigid's Day

Season: Winter

Symbols: Besoms, Brighid's crosses, candles, candle wheels, fertility symbols, fire, ploughs, priapic wands & white flowers

Colors: Black, brown, Earth tones, lavender, light green, orange, pink, red, white & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apricot, basil, bay, carnation, chamomile, cinnamon, dragon's blood, frankincense, heather, jasmine, myrrh, neroli, red sandalwood, sage, vanilla, violet & wisteria

Animals: Badger, cow, deer,groudhog, robin, sheep, snake, & swan

Mythical: Dragon

Stones: Amethyst, bloodstone, citrine, clear quartz, garnet, green tourmaline, hematite, iron, lodestone, onyx, red zircon, rose quartz, ruby, turquoise, yellow tourmaline

Food: Breads, chives, curries, dairy products, grains, garlic, herbal teas, honey cakes, lamb, muffins, onions, peppers, poppy seed cakes, pork, poultry, pumpkin seeds, raisins, scones, spiced wines & sunflower seeeds

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, ashleaf, balsam, basil, bay laurel, benzoin, blackberry, clover, coltsfoot, coriander, dragon's blood, garlic, heather, lemon, myrrh, rosemary, sage, vervain, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Celandine, chamomile, iris, rose hips, snowdrop, sunflower, tansy, violets, white flowers & yellow flowers

Goddesses: Anu, Aradia, Arianrhod, Artio, Athena, Branwen, Brigid, Danu, Februa, Gaia, Inanna, Juno, Selene, Sirona & Vesta

Gods: Aegus Mac Og, Bragi, Cupid, Dian Cecht, Dumuzi, Eros, Februus & Pax

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Activation/awakening, animals, beginnings, fertility, healing, hope, illumination, inspiration, light, pregnancy/childbirth, prophecy, transformation, well-being & youth

Spellwork: Air magick, banishings, candle spells, divination, fertility spells, prosperity & purification

Activities:

• Make & light white candles

• Clean/decorate your altar & consecrate your  altar tools

• Go on a walk in nature & look for signs of spring

• Make a Brigid's Cross

• Have a feast with your family/friends

• Give thanks & leave offerings to the Earth

• Set intentions, reflect & look deeper into your goals for spring

• Start a bonfire

• Find Imboloc prayers & devotionals that bid farewell to the winter months, honor the goddess Brigid, as well as seasonal blessings for your meals, hearth, & home.

• Pepare plans for your upcoming garden

• Craft a priapic wand

• Spend time with children celebrating Imbolc by making crafts & or baking

• Practice divination & fire scrying

• Draw a cleansing ritual bath for yourself

• Meditate, reflect & say your farewells to winter

• Cleanse & clean your house to prepare for spring

• Create a Brídeóg: a doll of Brigid made of straw

• Make Bride's bouquet satchets & exchange as symbols of good luck and fertility

• Set aside food & or drinks as an offering to Brigid to invite her in your home

Imbolc is a Gaelic festival marking the beginning of spring. Most commonly it is held on January 31 – February 1, or halfway between the winter solstice & the spring equinox. The holiday is a festival of the hearth, home, a celebration of the lengthening days & the early signs of spring. 

The word "imbolc" means "in the belly" and refers to the pregnancy of ewes at this time of year. The term "oimelc" means ewe's milk. Around this time of year, many herd animals give birth to their first offspring of the year or are heavily pregnant & as a result, they are producing milk. This creation of life’s milk is a part of the symbolic hope for spring.

Imbolc is mentioned in some of the earliest Irish literature and it is associated with important events in Irish mythology. It has been suggested that it was originally a pagan festival associated with the goddess Brigid and that it was Christianized as a festival of Saint Brigid, who herself is thought to be a Christianization of the goddess.

Some use Imbolc to celebrate the longer days which herald the return of Spring & The Goddess's recovery from giving birth to The Sun (The God) at Yule. The God & The Goddess are children symbolizing new life, new beginnings & new resurrections.

Related festivals:

• Groundhog Day-  Is a tradition observed in the United States & Canada on February 2 of every year. It derives from the Pennsylvania Dutch superstition that if a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day & sees its shadow, it will retreat to its den & winter will go on for six more weeks; if it does not see its shadow, spring will arrive early.

While the tradition remains popular in the 21st century, studies have found no consistent association between a groundhog seeing its shadow & the subsequent arrival time of spring-like weather.

•St. Brigid's Day- 1 February. It was originally Imbolc, the first day of spring in Irish tradition. Because Saint Brigid has been theorised as linked to the goddess Brigid, some associate the festival of Imbolc with the goddess. St. Brigid is the patroness saint (or 'mother saint') of Ireland. She is patroness of many things, including poetry, learning, healing, protection, blacksmithing, livestock & dairy production. In her honour, a perpetual fire was kept burning at Kildare for centuries.

A recent campaign successfully established her feast day as a national holiday in 2023.

• Chinese New Year- (February 10th) the festival that celebrates the beginning of a new year on the traditional lunisolar Chinese calendar. In Chinese, the festival is commonly referred to as the Spring Festival,- marking the end of winter and the beginning of the spring season. Observances traditionally take place from Chinese New Year's Eve, the evening preceding the first day of the year, to the Lantern Festival, held on the 15th day of the year. The first day of Chinese New Year begins on the new moon that appears between January 21st & February 20th.

The Chinese New Year is associated with several myths and customs. The festival was traditionally a time to honour deities as well as ancestors. Within China, regional customs and traditions concerning the celebration of the New Year vary widely & the evening preceding the New Year's Day is frequently regarded as an occasion for Chinese families to gather for the annual reunion dinner.

It is also a tradition for every family to thoroughly clean their house, in order to sweep away any ill fortune & to make way for incoming good luck. Another custom is the decoration of windows & doors with red paper-cuts and couplets. Popular themes among these paper-cuts and couplets include good fortune or happiness, wealth & longevity. Other activities include lighting firecrackers  & giving money in red envelopes.

•  Candlemas- is a Christian feast day on February 2nd commemorating the presentation of Jesus at the Temple. It is based upon the account of the presentation of Jesus in Luke 2:22-40. 

While it is customary for Christians in some countries to remove their Christmas decorations on Twelfth Night, those in other Christian countries historically remove them after Candlemas.On Candlemas, many Christians also take their candles to their local church, where they are blessed and then used for the rest of the year.

•Setsubun- (February 3rd) Is the day before the beginning of spring in the old calendar in Japan. The name literally means 'seasonal division', referring to the day just before the first day of spring.

Both Setsubun & Risshun are celebrated yearly as part of the Spring Festival (Haru matsuri ) in Japan. In its association with the Lunar New Year, Setsubun, though not the official New Year, was thought of as similar in its ritual & cultural associations of 'cleansing' the previous year as the beginning of the new season of spring. Setsubun was accompanied by a number of rituals & traditions held at various levels to drive away the previous year's bad fortunes & evil spirits for the year to come.

Other Celebrations:

• Lupercalia-

In ancient Rome, this festival was conducted annually on February 13th through 15th under the superintendence of a corporation of priests called Luperci. The origins of the festival are obscure, although the likely derivation of its name from lupus (Latin: “wolf”) has variously suggested connection with an ancient deity who protected herds from wolves and with the legendary she-wolf who nursed Romulus and Remus. As a fertility rite, the festival is also associated with the god Faunus.

to purify the city, promoting health & fertility.

Each Lupercalia began with the sacrifice by the Luperci of goats and a dog, after which two of the Luperci were led to the altar, their foreheads were touched with a bloody knife & the blood was wiped off with wool dipped in milk; the ritual required that the two young men laugh. The sacrificial feast followed, after which the Luperci cut thongs from the skins of the sacrificial animals & ran in two bands around the Palatine hill, striking with the thongs at any woman who came near them. A blow from the thong was supposed to render a woman fertile.

In 494 CE the Christian church under Pope Gelasius I forbade participation in the festival. Tradition holds that he appropriated the form of the rite as the Feast of the Purification (Candlemas), celebrated on February 2, but it is likely that the Christian feast was established in the previous century. It has also been alternately suggested that Pope Gelasius I replaced Lupercalia with St. Valentine’s Day, celebrated on February 14th, but the origin of that holiday was likely much later.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[thetravelingtyper]

Our Shattered Heart (Part 2) (GN! 'Heart' Reader x Taskforce 141)

After a long night, you wake once again within the grasp of your team. How will you engage with growing realizations?

Warnings: Possible OOC of characters, kissing, learning how to write this type of content so bear with me.

Properly edited this time lmao

Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2.25, Part 2.50

“Nothing defines a man defines a man like a love that makes him soft,

And sentimental like a stranger in the park” Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan.

You dream of nothing but spinning lights and music that night. Its low whispers that wake you late. You dig yourself further into the comfort of the sheets but a set of arms wraps around you. 

“Stop moving hen.” Your eyes shoot open to find baby blues staring into yours. You sigh.

“Johnny why are you here.” 

You try to move out of his grasp but he tucks your head into his neck and chuckles.

“Not letting you go again, not after last night.”

You huff and wiggle but he just rolls over pinning you down with his weight.

“Johnny you're heavy!” Your eyes peer out from his neck and you notice the smell of tea. An unmasked Simon sits at the side table with a book, legs spread out in sweatpants, and a light black shirt. You can see his tattoos, as if feeling your eyes, his meet yours.

“Mornin’ dove” His gruff voice causes Johnny to turn over so you're at the edge of the bed. You were still in your casual clothes while the Scot had on a black pullover and shorts. The domestic nature of the contact softened your heart. But despite last night, the change in their behaviors still upset you and you wiggle again. Getting the hint, Johnny lets you go with a soft huff and you roll out of bed, hopping up onto your feet.

Simon watches your eyes shoot between the two of them. He moves his hand to the drawer behind him pulling out a large pair of sweats and a shirt. His clothes, you notice then you were in his claimed room. 

“You fell asleep last night Love.”

You are a little trepidatious, but the man stands, towering over you and setting his tea aside. You look up at him with large eyes, comfortable but visions of the past month and his biting comments want you to turn away. His eyes soften and he opens his arms. 

“We need to talk, but I am sorry. It wasn’t right treating you that way Bird. You don’t have to forgive me now or ever but I will make it up to you, I promise.”

He almost whispers the last part and you see his shoulder tense for a moment. The apology was more than you had ever gotten from the man and you find yourself nodding before walking into his arms. You hear Johnny sit up, watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. Simon’s hug that follows is one of the safest things you swear you have ever felt. Flashes of the dance in your mind, but you look back at Johnny and meet his eyes. The spark in your heart answers your question, he just nods and smiles. 

You let out a shaky sigh with the weight of the realization of what you had found. Safety and trust, that was a year ago but Love? Not of one man but two, but your mind flashes to Kyle and John, four? You almost quake in Simon's arms, legs feeling a little weak with what has transpired these past two years. How had you not realized? No, you did, deep down you think, but the switch up? Why? Simon's arms pull you tighter, one lowering to the small of your back. 

His head reaches down to yours as he loosens his grasp. He sees the emotion spinning in your eyes, keen mind realizing.

“Johnny”

Simon's voice calls out and the Scot stands to join you two. The other man's arms wrap around you as well and you find yourself in one of the safest places on earth. Simon's head returns to yours as he and the Scot share a fond look. One of Simon's hands grasps one of Johnny's and squeezes. Johnny smiles at him before humming into your hair and pressing a kiss there. 

“Guys I-”

“We know” they both speak at the same time. Simon murmurs your name and you look up to him smiling softly at you. Your brain stops short, the feelings bubbling in your chest. Fuck it. You shuffle in their arms to the Scot's complaint, but leaning on your tiptoes you reach a hand to Simon's face and press a kiss to his lips.

“Aye you're missing someone hen,” Simon grunts when you are yanked around to Johnny and he meets your lips in a heated kiss. He pulls you fully into his arms, one reaching to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss and the other swiping SImons hand in his. Johnny steps forward, pushing you against Simon’s chest in a searching kiss, seeking comfort in your lips and presence. He breaks away a moment later with dilated pupils. 

Simon chuckles against your back,

“You happy Johnny?” Simon gives one final brush of his hand with yours and returns to his tea. Leaving you in Johnny’s arms again.

“Been meanin’ to do tha’ since he beat me to it.” He looks at Simon in a mock glare but the older man just raises his cup in a cheers motion. You flush and pull from his arms in embarrassment but Johnny keeps you entrapped, pulling his forehead down to yours with light laughter. There is joy in his eyes and the smirk softened into a smile. 

“I'm sorry hen.” He offers it honestly and you brush your hand up and through his grown-out hair, then your palm traces his cheek. He leans into it pressing a kiss there. 

“It’s ok Johnny, just give me a little time. It'll be ok.” You then press a kiss to the side of his mouth and with the tax paid you finally are released. You take Simon’s cloths and go into the bathroom to change. When you come out Simon pins you with a look that darkens seeing his clothes on you. They are big, but you knot the shirt, pulling it closer to your form. He sits up in the chair as Johnny watches with a smirk as Simon holds an arm out and you take his hand. He stands up and spins you into his arms just waving to silent music as Johnny watches with what you can now call love. You reach up to his scarred face as he angles his face down. Fingers skim soft skin with a slight blur of stubble. He was handsome to you. With his eyes clear of the eye black you can trace blond lashs. 

“What’ is it lovie?” 

“Nothin’ Si” you lean against his sturdy chest you can hear the hammering of his heart as he cradles you, hand soothing your hair and other hand tracing circles.

“Loves, Captain is back.” 

Simon hums and releases you, allowing Johnny to take your hand and pull you towards the door. He opens it and steps out, pulling you with Simon following and closing the door to his room. In the living area you find Kyle in a tank top and joggers fresh from a run and shower. 

Kyle sees your hand in Johnny’s and Simon's demeanor. His eyes then look to you and Simon's closeness and his cocky grin grows and he raises a brow at you. You roll your eyes before approaching him, dropping Johnny's hand a raising yours in an offering. Kyle takes it and holds your palms upwards, entangling your fingers, a shit-eating grin now fully on his face. 

“Don’t get cocky Kyle.”

Simon takes his cup into the kitchen and Johnny follows like a puppy. Their voices dropping into murmurs. Kyle pulls your hand and pecks out his lips. 

“Do I get a kiss to love?”

You smile at him fondly, Ever the cheeky gentleman. You do him one better. You yank the unexpecting man into a confident kiss. He chuffs, humor dancing in his eyes before they close, his hands come to either side of your head and neck and he pulls you into a frantic kiss. Pent up feelings come out in his lips as he turns you and backs you against the closest wall, His hand cradles your head as you pull apart for a breath.

John’s chuckle permeates the room and Johnny peeks his head out to see you between the wall and Kyle. 

“Dam-”

“Can it sudz” You bring your hands up to Kyle's chest, muscles firm and warm. You press a shy peck to his jaw and he smiles, eyes lit like he just won the lottery. His face tilts back and his laughter draws Simon from the kitchen.

“John”

John sets a pair of bags with takeout on the table. He looks to Soap, Simon, and Kyle then you. As his blue eyes land on you they shine. He looks younger, mirth taking his features. There is a sense of family that suddenly fills your heart. You move past Kyle to your Captain. He looks at you with quiet comfort, studied eyes from many long nights working together. You shy away from his gaze.

“We were scared we almost lost you.”

It’s John that finally answers your twisting thoughts. You look back up to him. 

“You’d have to do better than that Captain to take me.”

He just tilts his head. The past four months weighed on him. He’s lost a lot in his later years but what he’s built here was his life now. And you had squeezed your way into the tight-knit group with your, well he chuckles, heart and skills. You fought with Johnny, spent hours with Kyle talking into the night, had quiet drinks with Simon, and spent long nights helping him with work. You particularly won over Laswell, learning about John and getting along with his good friend. Acquiring you that fateful day had been one of the best decisions he ever made. 

He and Kyle would talk about you on missions, though he would never admit it, despite the knowing looks between Johnny and Simon. Simon had approached him one night over an old cigar and a drink. The men had a long history, but it caught him a little off guard.

It was a night you and Gaz had been dragged into a pub by Soap for the game. Simon had sought him out with a bottle of gifted Kentucky Bourbon brought over from the States by you for him. They sat outside in the warmth of a fine evening. 

Simon was blunt, a man of few words and fewer spoken truths. 

“You like them.”

It is a simple utterance from the masked man. He stares out into the wilderness surrounding the base, home, for the month at least. Yet, John’s eyes catch Simon’s fingers dancing at the edge of the glass. He sets his glass down and puts a hand on Simon's shoulder. He offers the next piece of the puzzle in a simple name:

“MacTavish.” Simons answers one with his own. 

“Garrick.”

Simon’s shoulders loosen under the weight of Price’s hand. They both understand each other in the moment, brown eyes meeting blue. They awaited the return of their sergeants, keeping each other quiet company. 

“John?’ You set a hand on his arm and he takes it in his opposite hand.

“I’m sorry my dear.”

You pull his arms open and slot yourself within them. Head to his chest, his heart beats faster than Simon’s, and the scent of Lady Earl Gray and smoke permeates. You feel one of the others, Kyle. step forward.

His hand comes to rest on the small of your back while the other rests on John's arm. The support has you reaching a hand up to your captain's face and staring into his stormy eyes. The man who carried the world on his shoulders would offer it to you at a moment's notice and the new feelings shook up everything these past months. The fear of losing you, what it would do to not only him but the men he cared for. 

“Johnathan”

He chuckles. And you decide to shoulder some of the burden.

“Eyes on me Captain?”

You ask with a fond smile,

“It's John to you dear.” 

He then pulls a hand to your face and finally meets your lips. He cradles you like a precious object and deepens the kiss with an expertise that makes you melt. The brush of his beard tickles as you part. He offers you a smile before pulling you into another embrace. There is a sturdy strength in his arms as he pulls your head into his chest. A quiet takes the room as the men watch you take in the love being offered.

Finally, there was peace, a cutting of the tension that had built over the past months. Kyle and Johnny share a knowing smile while Simon just shakes his head a fond smile on his face. The moment between the team, the whole team. You all had been through hell together, each pair of men having formed their bonds before your arrival but you had just cemented the love between them. 

But as the moment lingers there is a rumble in your stomach that has Johnny laughing.

“Aye captain let the poor sergeant eat.”

He nods and releases you as he digs through the bags pulling out 5 take-out containers. Kyle pulls you to the table, plopping you down next to him with a kiss on the side of your head as Johnny takes the other side. Simon and John take the ends of the table and you feel for the first time in a while, complete. As you all eat the room fills with laughter and conversation and you all begin to eat. 

Johnny’s hand eventually drops to your knee as he talks, laughing with Kyle about something or another. You grasp his hand and squeeze it and he glances at you from the corner of his eye with a smile. The time passes well into the afternoon before John has to return to base.

---

“Am I good to return to missions?”

The question catches John in a sore spot as he is sorting gear into a duffle in Kyle’s room.

“Love, I-”

Simon lingers in the doorway suddenly before entering as you cross your arms and pin your captain with a stern look. Simon enters and he and John share a look.

“Let 'em back John, it's time.”

Price looks to his lieutenant, Simon's eyes a command of their own. John sighs and nods.

“No more surveillance. I caused all this mess in the first place. Alright sergeant, back to work for you soon,” he steps forward with a darkening look in his eyes. 

“But no more breaking orders. You did the right thing but we cannot risk losing you.”

His voice is gruff but the look he gives you is smouldering. Of all the men, he had been the most guarded with you, due to the nature of the others and his position as leader. The team rose and fell by his lead and a switch up in order could change team dynamics. The authority sends a tingle down your spine and you nod. A smile slips onto your face and you are ecstatic to be finally able to work normally again. 

“Yes, Captain.”

He watches your apparent excitement with a beam of pride. 

“Good Love.” He murmurs and you feel a blush heat up your face at his tone. At his pride, a surge of want flows through you. He chuckles and turns to pick up his duffle bag to leave. He nods to Simon and moves to pass you up but you grab his hand.

“What is it dear?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, he smirks, setting the duffle bag to the side again and moving his hands to your waist.

“Not had enough Love?” He asks, head tilting in question. 

You shake your head then seek out his lips in a fervent kiss. Price doesn't expect it but shortly leans into it with an exhale from his nose. His right hand traces from your waist to the small of your back as he pulls you against him, deepening the kiss. Months of pining come out, seeing the others make their moves, and being on the sidelines has John pushing for more. The reserve of the Captain was tested these past months. Not being able to go back despite Soap’s protesting has caused a rift between the two men. For all he knew you died but they had a mission to complete and Simon dragged Johnny away from the rubble with a grave stoicism. In his mind, flashes of your defiant smile, escaping reprimand and delivering intel, you were something else. 

But it was a comment from Laswell that had brought upon the ‘babysitting’ as Kyle had called it:

It was a month into your recovery when Laswell had pulled Price aside. 

“John,” she sets a file, your file on his desk, the man looks up with an inquisitive look. 

“You’ve got bad news Kate.” It is not a question, he can read her face. 

“Their old Captain wants Heart back after recovery.” She passes him a packet, one glance makes him frown. Due to your collection of intel, your old captain, the one who originally wanted you transferred, wanted you back. Apparently, serving with the 141 had made you valuable merchandise, the bastard. 

Reading the missive something ugly turned in Price’s mind. Something possessive as he scoffed and tossed the form aside. Kate just smiled, expecting this exact reaction. She watched a storm pass over his eyes.

“The muppet has another thing coming if he thinks he is taking my Sergeant.”

It was all he offered before he handed the paper back, but Kate shook her head.

“I’m afraid it is not that simple,” she hands him an order, “it's coming from higher sources as well. They are not your soldier in paper terms.”

This statement has Price setting a fist down a glow in his eyes,

“I'll be damned if you think you are taking Heart from this team.”

Kate smirks, 

“I figured you’d say that.” She then pulled another file from her bag, 

“Here is something to keep Heart and the Boys busy after they recover. It’s not more than a month or so but it should buy us some time. Try to keep them out of the spotlight. Any more hero acts will get more people talking.”

With that, she leaves John with the plans for an ‘intelligence mission’ and leaves.

The boys, ever perceptive, found out somehow. Gaz caught on first, seeing his Captain tense every time he caught a glance at the forms. Simon figured out something was up as soon as Price commented on Heart working intel while on bed rest. His perceptive eyes met Price’s as he pulled him aside privately. 

“What’s wrong John.” Simon’s mask comes off the moment the man closes the door to his office. John doesn't reply at first, instead choosing to drop himself into his seat and pull out the paperwork from its hidden position under the trash stack. 

“See for yourself, Simon.” He hands the taller man the paperwork who then pages through it. A few minutes follow with silence and the occasional page turn as Simon reads. John can tell when he reaches the orders because there is a gruff, ‘bullshit’, under his breath as he turns back to Price.

“This won't stand,” Simon says like an order, Price hands him Laswell's mission next. A smirk rose to his face.

“Laswell is good.”

“She is the best. Prolong it, Simon, as long as you can. I will need time to work this mess out.”

Simon nods but before he leaves he sets a hand on John. No words were said but the two shared a look before Simon once again pulled his mask on and left.

Johnny learns from Simon the next night as the two go out for drinks. 

“No” Johnny is seeing red, rage simmering behind a straight face, but there is tension as he nurses his glass of Scotch. Simon sets a steady hand on the man's knee but he is still tense.

“I know Johnny, we won’t lose them.”

“Not if I can help it.”

With that Johnny downed his drink and pulled himself closer to Simon.

“We’ll figure something out.”

John returns to the kiss with newfound vigor as you soften against him.

“Sweet thing” 

It's from Simon as he sits down, watching the scene. John smiles breaking the kiss then dipping down your neck and pressing a final kiss there. He lingers for a moment longer before pulling back and releasing you. 

“We’ll talk back at base. Got a problem that needs solving.”

You want to press him for more information but the tired look in his eyes silences you. You frown at the tension in his shoulders as he grabs his bag and heads out the door.

“Si?”

The man stands and approaches you, a hand moving to your face in comfort.

“It'll be alright Dove.” 

You hear laughter in the main room then, Kyle, Johnny, and John’s voices resounding together in some comraderic harmony. You smile then head turning to the door as you cover Simon's hand with your own.

“Yes, I believe it will.”

---

Fin part two: 

I am new to writing poly so I just went with what felt natural to me. This turned out to be a little Simon-centric, but I'm thinking of having one-shots with all of the boys. Any guidance/opinions are welcome!

Taglist: @ghostlythots, @00ops1e, @rafaelacallinybbay, @iloveslasher, @character---obsessed

[nerdgal27]

Home 

Sunshine dapples the deep green forest. Burn the late morning dew glittering jewels in mid air. Coffee mug in hand black liquid slosh onto cold fingers as I wobble down the tiny staircase of the camper pickup truck. An old rust bucket is the last bit of my savings can afford. 

Sit on a lazy afternoon in a cozy chair. Stare at the endless view of evergreen pines and misty gray mountains is worth it all. Take in the cool sweet wood scent of green fill sore lungs. Swivel chair further away from an old gravel path. Wind over the lush undergrowth. Where customary rodents cover last night's tracks. Eat the empty nut shells and left over trail mix I left for them. Can’t stomach to eat anything again. What’s the point now?

Shield away by Mother Nature’s warmth and green walls. Her sweet melody chirps and whispers in the silence. The sticky sun glues me under the camper cobweb awning. Spiders big enough to play the banjo. Thought grows a chuckle to who said that once. Forever gone away in the forever distance. All for the best. For everyone. For them most of all. 

Free from pain, from it all. It has been done. No need to know the outside world. Can almost imagine it all. Not now. No need to think about any of that at all. Other than wonder how hot this coffee is for me to sip. 

Deep rich aroma takes me away from the pines. Old giggles bounce from concrete walls. Sparks spray in all directions mingles the smell with old metal. When muddle hands rub black grease over my eyebrow. Old scooter parts vomit all over the floor. A victim to be torn apart, rebuilt to either drive faster. Or explode. 

Phone rings memories back to green and soft blue reality. Muffle in the far depths of the 1967 brown and green camper. Can’t be right, I shut it off last night. 

Crawl back into the sauna brown dungeon. Follow the ringtone to the front. Weave over the hot tea water bottles on the fuzzy floor. Brush last night’s debris aside in the trap of doom between the front seat. Bright pink old life shivers in a frenzy. 

I shouldn’t turn the phone over to see the screen. This needs to be my new life now. Can’t go back anyways. How can I like this? How can anyone? Doing this for them. An glove box that only opens and closes by a swift kick is a good place to bury it all away. Turn off all of the past in orange velvet darkness. Leave it all tucked away. Return to the fresh sirene new life. 

Canadian geese honk over the tall tree peaks. The way the flock swoops down a long terrain down from blue skies and feather clouds. Sunrays beam grasshopper hisses mid day summer heat. Follow the distant honks and splash. A cool lake lap over dry cracked feet sounds perfect. Clear this heavy head of mine. 

Wander back inside. Cool worn out duds for lake water. Cold beer in hand, tuck comfy chair under my arm. A handful of fluorescent pink tags roll in hand. Nice way to return to my new home without getting lost. Wait for another set of geese to flutter above. Lead the way out of the hot sun. Weave between the trees. Step over tree root monsters. Smile at the odd bird or animal hops by. 

“We don’t keep secrets, right?”

I whisper to the memories. “No, you don’t.” 

Another voice in the dream rasp. “He still loves you.” 

He shouldn’t, neither should any of you. Too broken, not enough. Difficult. 

Out here. All are no different than any woodland creatures from the largest moose to the small voles scurry by. What is worse, to remember the words. Or the subtle silence of the first night when all of this began. A sink full of awful empty decisions. The oldest brother’s quiet gaze. Patterns flourish in the forest around me. Bright shapes shimmer all that is long gone behind me. Nothing wrong with a cold one in hand on a hot day. 

Besides, take in all of this. A wide dark turquoise green lake. Full of life. A single loon lone coo along with the tiny dots of geese in the water. Soft gentle slopes into sand and clay. Show evidence of deer were here moments ago. 

He misses you that’s all 

One’s voice. Does he?… Of course he does. How could he not? Everyone else knows. 

Sit down in the chair. Set down the last 3 cans of a 6 pack. Miraculous 3 survivors of a drunk blackout yesterday. Crack open heaven. Slide it down the fire throat. Feel it burn over it all. Take in this brand new peaceful life of quiet. Should bring out a couple fishing poles for tonight. If I remember to come back for them. Can’t go back to anything nowadays. 

When will I see you? 

My old self. When my voice had more life. 

Soon, Sweetheart, it will be like old times. 

There’s a reason why they are called old times. It was a good life. A loud life, somewhat chaotic. The endless laughs, pile ons, pushing around. Plastic cockroaches in cupboards, glitter in ninja smoke bombs. One time Mikey and I replaced Raphael’s shower gel for blue dye. Guy was a grumpy Smurf for 4 days. His grouchy growls. The wooden spoon in papa turtle Smurf’s hand. Mikey ran for his life. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Wash over the more recent screams and pushes away. Even more of the dark and bleek. 

When closet doors rattle. Whisky bottles smash in the far distance- 

No. Not again. Never speak of it again. None of that ever happened. 

Water swishes numb ankles. Whirl to baby ducks splash nearby. Over work, Mother of 6 squacks her children to behave and paddle behind her. Chuckles at their little feet blur under the clear water. Match the same speed of their cotton ball wings. Can remember when Mikey used to run the same way. Anytime Donnie chases Mikey out of his lab. Sometimes so then Donnie and I could play science and pupil again. 

Water waves between my toes. Shallow parts warm from the sun. Heat numb limbs. Swallow back to boiling hot water. Scorch delicate young skin.

Mommy it’s too hot. 

No…stop

Screams echo. Blister scar. Bare to the summer heat. Every single one remembers every pain. Why did I wear this tank top? Why am I out here? Can’t stay.

Hands stick on to lawn chair. Water waves slosh against the sandy ridge. Small legs kick. Hot water splashes everywhere. Hands shove deep under water. 

Sweetheart, breathe…

Violet voice whispers. Take his invisible hands. Squeeze them. The way he told me to. No thumb rubs my hands. Take in all of the cool fresh pine. Have to get used to this alone. Least this way is the best. No one’s burden any more. Can pick up this lawn chair anytime. 

Wander back the pink flag trail. Lose myself to millions of songs birds and butterflies flutter by. Brush soft long grass under fingers as I go. Crisp fresh air. Think about what bait to use for food tonight. Another thing I will have to start getting used to. 

Yellow happy face atena swings in between shrubs. Wave me down the direction home. Swig the last bit of powerful robust dark beer. Ignite pain away in a smooth burn. Drown darkness where they belong. 

Soft breeze hushes the forest buzz. Breathe in strong bitter fuel knocks the taste of beer. Great animal growls a deep hungry growl. Take me back to a cool violet room. To a lab chair and elastic bands for hair tying. 

“Sweetheart!?”

 Old life hollars me dead frozen in the tall grass. Hidden behind thick honeysuckles. The low hanging tree branches block the meadow opening of my new home. Don’t need to see how close the voice is. Can hear his feet crunch back and forth in the gravel. Rusty truck doors whine open and slam shut. Yellow smiley atena whirs in a hyperactive spaz. Empty cans clang on the far away floor board. Fast in a frantic, more than the time he caught Mikey in his mutagen supply. 

Footsteps wobble in the far depths of camper sweet camper. No.

He can’t be here. No one can find me like this.  I did this for them. They need to stay away from me. Far from any ear shot here. Can drop everything and run. Spin to do so. Lungs leap to jump for the hot pink trail back to the lake. 

Get back here! 

Hot greasy hand clap thunder. Drop the entire lazy afternoon supply. Oh crap no! Don’t drop them.

Metal chair legs clang against beer cans. 

Shallow gasp in the wind. Pushes me faster down the trail. Teenage bare feet pound thistles and burrs I weaved around before. 

Child bare feet blur down a hallway. Slam the bedroom door shut. 

“Tessie, wait!” 

Oh shit! Dammit! All the curse words Mikey should never hear. He found me. Faster down the hill. Over the log. Reach for the ridge. Follow the open blue sky between the evergreen trunks. 

Slip under fast large hands. Hardwood scraps small bare knees. Away from him. Away from the man. Go go go. 

Feet hush to the quiet breeze and soft rainfall of leaves. The broken footpath behind me, bare. Maybe turned back to the shellraiser for something. No matter. Least I can slow down, and lungs can breathe. 

Leaves rustle ahead. Green blur drops from above. Dead in his tracks. The tall slender turtle raises his hands and snatches me. Should have known. Been raised by ninjas for Pete sake. 

Jerk arms in his grip. Swallow the rock down. 

“Donnie, what are you doing here? Let me go.”

Sink away from his gaze. Loosen his grip to one hand on my arm. 

He pants, “I’m not here to fight, and I should be the one asking you the same question.” 

Rip his hand off me. No point in running. His long legs follow behind down the path. As I pick up the lawn chair. 

“No phone call, no note, do you know what I found in that camper?” His feet pound behind. 

Pick up what’s left of the 6 pack. Dangle the last 2 cans yet to be drank. No point in hiding it now. Plus he said he’s not here to fight. There’s no need to answer. Lanky green hands rip the plastic rings. 

“Hey!”

Whirl back to the two cans soar into the forest. Shove Donnie back. 

“What the hell was that for? That stuff ain’t cheap.” 

He towers over me. Loom a dark shadow over. Calm eyes narrow into deep violet slits. Deepens his sharp tongue. 

“Do you know how long I drove to find you,

How long we’ve been looking for you?” 

Step out of his shadow. Continue down the path into the sunlight. Home sweet home lies ahead. 

Shrug as I go, “You didn’t have to. Just decided to take a trip, that's all, what’s wrong with that?”  

Old life lingers in the shadows. Listen to teeth grit splinters. Boy did he skip coffee? Why is he hear anyway. Everyone knows so what’s the point?

Set the lawn chair back under the shade of a hunter's green awning. Since Mr. Grumpy in the corner threw a good set of cans. Guess I’ll have to get more. Crawl back inside the brown velvet coffin. Weave over the thrown cans on the floor. Guess I’ll have to clean this soon. The camper door slams shut. 

“I wouldn’t shut that, unless you want to melt.” I speak to the ghost by the door. 

Silence. Gonna be civil now. Want to burn holes through my head? Go on, do it. Everyone else is gone, why should anything matter. Open the mini fridge. To an endless supply of bottles, cans, and what I forgot most. Leaps off the shelves, plop to the fuzzy floor. 

Oh shit. 

“…what is that?” 

He’s the brainiac and yet he’s asking me? Should be pretty obvious by the label. Let his long legs weave around me. Take a bag from the fridge. I Crack open a cold one. Fire burns down all those dark heavy nights. Think back to all of the colorful waves last night.

“…T-this…” 

Leave him in the camper. Let him figure it out himself. Wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. Might as well read what brand I use, for what? Who knows. 

Set the can in the lawn chair. Camper door shuts, no slam? Weird. Shouldn’t he be furious or something? 

Been standing there for a while. Turn to him at the metal steps. Shaded from the hot sun. Bag shivers in between his fingers. Lost to the horizon. That I’ve seen thousands of times in his brown eyes. His internal gears whir. He never looks like this unless…

“You do know, right?” 

Silence answers. The deep rise and fall of his chest. He sinks down to the flatten tall grass. Let the bag fall between his fingers. A look I make when I wake up from a nightmare. Before I would run straight to his bedroom. 

Set the can away. How? What?! 

Rise up from the old seat. I ask, “The guys never told you?” 

Rise from his palms, bambi eyes round wide, “They know about this?!” 

“Well…yeah”- 

“How long?” He mutters, waiting for an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Take a step away from his ember coals glow. Shrug an answer, “I thought you knew, how can everyone else know but you Donnie, you know every inch of the city.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” He shoots from the ground. Bury me in his height, “You never call or text me anymore, and then leave the city to who knows where, does Mikey know?!” 

Mikey. Golden sun, white dust particles float over the sweet turtle. Bath in old and new sunlight. Breathe that old dry air of that lazy morning. 

Nod in silence. Hoarse throat stops all words Heavy numb limbs drag back inside the brown coffin. Large queen size mattress at the back. Warm by the sun. Shut all of the curtains away. Curl all away in a ball. Close away from all life. This is not what is supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart?” Footsteps wobble the camper. 

No answer. Feel the camper sink down with him. Warmth touches my arch back, soft thumb rubs me to the old cool lab. All those years ago. 

“What are your plans for being out here?” He whispers. 

No, he already knows now. He can’t know about this too. It will crush him. Shiver under his soft palm. There’s no going back. I’ve made this decision. Already caused enough problems as it is. First Leo. How it all turned Raph down into this dark hole. Times I’ve picked him up because of what I’ve done. Tried to fix it all for Mikey. Tried to be happy for Mikey. Yet…I am here. This is what I deserve. Donnie shouldn’t even be here. Why is he still here?

Weight shifts the mattress. Warmth drapes behind all along against me. His long arm slides around me. Pull me back tight against his beating heart. Donnie’s muzzle nestles deep into my shoulder. It doesn't take much for him to know. 

Brush back strands from my cheek. 

He whispers, “You don’t deserve to go through this alone.” 

Roll in his arms. Drown myself into this chest I’ve missed so much all night long. Muzzle in his sweet scent and warmth. Squeeze all pain in his tight arms. 

I shake, “I-I Don’t kn-know… if I can go back, big brother, I-I’m too broken. No one should be stuck with me”- 

Soft lips plant firm silence my heavy forehead. 

“You are never too broken, it’s okay to have space for a while when you need it.” His deep voice murmurs in my ear. 

Cling on to his belt. The same way when I was small. Take me back to the memories. Away from all of this. Let all of the pain drip onto his chest. Choke on my words.

As my brainiac brother traces slow circles on my back. Sweet rich coffee fills my world. Over the fresh pine. More warm than the summer hot sun. A soft sigh quells more than the lone loon. I am back home. This is home. Safe. Can hide here as long as I need. 

 He whispers, “I will stay for as long as you need me, little pupil.” 

Bit through all the painful tears to fall. That roll down my brother’s chest. Yesterday I was in darkness. Tomorrow, who knows where I will be. For now I am with Donatello. My close friend, my big brother.

I am home. 

[chimchiri]

Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 06 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the lovely writing! <3

Previous Poll:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A tall, willowy woman sits crouched on her knees, tending to a fruiting garden with her back to AJ. Her long pink hair is tied up in a thoughtless knot, though the green ribbon holding it together makes it elegant. A basket sits beside her, half-full with newly harvested veggies, flowers, mushrooms, and greens. As she works, the tune she hums floats across the yard, accompanied by birdsong that chirps along, and the occasional chatter from a chipmunk joining in.

As usual, Fluttershy is surrounded by a sundry of critters. Today there are butterflies flitting around her shoulders, beetles dancing at her knees, a wild doe that rests beside her with its long legs tucked under its body, a tortoise that munches on the kale from her basket, and a roundup of squirrels chattering away as they help her find ripe cherry tomatoes. And of course, Angel—the mischievous bunny that can get away with nearly anything, because he’s Fluttershy’s darling boy. For now, he sits directly behind her, scratching idly at his neck with his hind leg. Bodyguard duty.

A tiny, bright blue flash approaches Flutters and hovers in the air beside her, a delicate flower in tow. Flutters looks over to the proffered gift, removes a glove and holds out her hand out to let the hummingbird drop the flower into her palm. She places it in her hair before letting the bird land on her finger.

“Thank you, Hummingway,” she chimes, bringing the microscopic bird up to nuzzle at her cheek with a soft laugh.

For a moment, AJ can only watch in awe. Fluttershy’s uncanny ability to commune with nature never gets old. A grin breaks out on her face. She’s glad she decided to stop here first; she can feel her stress melting away.

“Fluttershy,” AJ calls from the pathway leading to Fluttershy’s front door, and the woman in the garden yelps, shoulders tensing in a defensive pose. Applejack cringes as Flutters turns to face her, eyes wide.

“Oh—goodness,” she says, a hand to her chest, “Applejack, you startled me.”

“Sorry—sorry,” AJ says with a sheepish smile, stepping over to grab the basket and offering Flutters a hand.

Fluttershy stands, brushing the grass and dirt from her pants and tucking her gloves into a pocket before bending down to scoop Angel up into her arms, bidding farewell to the other critters retreating from their garden duties—the ones that didn’t flee when Applejack broke their peaceful moment.

“Well, it’s good to see you, AJ,” Flutters says in that soft voice of hers, reaching a hand out for the basket in AJ’s hand. But the farmer gives a little shake of her head, insisting she carry it as they step out of the garden patch and over to the cobblestone pathway.

“Um, you really don’t have to carry it for me…but thank you,” she says, stroking at one of Angel’s fuzzy ears, to busy her anxious hands, “Come in, I was going to make tea.”

So AJ follows Fluttershy into her charming little bungalow, locked in a staring contest with Angel, who looks at her over Fluttershy’s shoulder like he would maim AJ if he had sharper teeth. Setting the harvest basket on a bench by the door, AJ watches the timid woman put a kettle on to boil and then putter about the open floor plan of the downstairs as she fusses with putting her veggies in the sink and tidying whatever she deems out of place. As they wait for the water to boil, they make idle small talk—the weather’s been nice, Twilight (yes, Twilight) is planning a surprise party for Pinkie Pie, how are the horses?

Once Fluttershy pours tea into cups on a tray and leads them to the den, she takes a timid sip before looking to AJ. “It’s always nice to see you, Applejack. Did you need me to help with something? Is Winona doing okay?” A look of panic flashes across her face and her eyes go wide. “She didn’t get into the horse feed again, did she? Oh dear…I told her only to eat her own food….”

Her brows pull up in concern as she meets AJ’s gaze, who shakes her head with a chuckle. “No, Winona’s alright—she loves the new food”—(“Oh, thank goodness…”)—“I’m actually…I’m here because I had a favor to ask.”

Applejack rubs the back of her neck. Shit, she’s nervous. Thinking about consulting her friends is one thing, but actually doing it is something else entirely.

“Oh?”

AJ grabs her tiny teacup from the tray and blows on the tea, unable to look at Fluttershy. “Uh, yeah—I, uh. I’m goin’ on a date. And I need some advice.”

“A date!” exclaims Flutters, louder than her usual delicate tone as she flashes a grin, her soft blue eyes glittering. “That’s wonderful.”

AJ can feel her ears turning ten shades of pink. “Heh, thanks. I’m stuck on a few things but I think you can help me out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark @colourswirlcannibal

[goosecastle41]

I have some fluffy girl dad Gideon headcanons I need to share with you

Firstly, just something sweet I’ve been thinking about; Gideon is the unofficial official ceo of playing make believe and tea parties. The second his daughter breaks out the tea set and the tiaras, Gideon no longer exists. Prince Gumdrop of the Sugar Valley is here and he WILL be having tea with the Princess of Cupcake Town thank you very much

Gideon is. Wildly protective of his daughter. BUT. He is a huge believer of “let your child do dangerous things in a safe environment”. His protectiveness manifests in the way of like. Trying to teach her how to protect her self. Teach her when a situation is dangerous and how she should avoid it. Letting her learn lessons like “You either stop climbing trees or you need to get better at it. Either way stop falling out of trees!”

Though on the same coin, Gideon would kill someone for looking at his daughter the wrong way. Easily. Gideon has no qualms about fighting a dude who’s made sideways comments about his baby girl. Gideon would go to hell and back for her any day of the week.

A mutual said this in a reblog on a previous post and they were just so right; Gideons love language is physical touch and spending time with his loved ones. He’s always wrapping his daughter up in his arms, lifting her off of the ground in bear hugs or planting big, noisy kisses on the top of her head or cheek. She pretends to hate it, bating at his chest or shoving his face away, but it’s almost always half hearted and she always gives in and hugs him back.

Again from my mutual; Gideon loves to take her out camping after they start up the carnival with Kremy and Frost and Gricko. The loud noises and lights and the people can easily get to her and make her anxious, so every so often Gideon would pack up their camping supplies and they’d head off into the woods where there’s nothing but the sound of the wind, bugs, birds and wildlife.

He teaches her how to fish, how to track small animals and hunt them. He lets her climb the trees seeing as she’s gotten so much better at doing so. She climbs like lightning and with steady hands and feet, but Gideon can always be found at the bottom, waiting to catch her if she needs

And lastly, I feel like Gideons daughter would call him Papa. Like I imagine Gideon adopts her when she’s fairly young. Something happened to her first set of parents, leaving her orphaned in this big scary world. Gideon and Kremy find her and for whatever reasons I decide later, decide to keep her and raise her. Gideon’s the main caretaker at first and she gets closer and closer to him until one day she calls him Papa out of the blue.

Gideon doesn’t make a huge deal of it. Kremy can see the smile trying to fight it’s way onto his face, can see the tears welling in his eyes. But Gideon just answers whatever question she had like his whole world isn’t being shattered and put back together piece by piece. He just pats her head gently and then watches as she runs off to go play, accepting that he’s a father. A Papa.

Idk. Just some things I’ve been thinking about

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // TWELVE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: The Tales of Ba Sing Se: The Tale of Princess Y/N

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: going to say it right here right now…this chapter is 75% crack and goofy nonsense shenanigans LMAOAO. mostly because zuko and y/n’s relationship is so i see the light from tangled across the stars from star wars etc etc but the main man of this chapter & y/n are just the subway surfers theme song personified

“I’m very confused,” you said, sitting on Quynh’s front paw and gazing up at her beseechingly. “I need your help, Quynh.”

“I was questioning why you stayed here with me instead of running off to that tea shop you love so much,” she said, inclining her nose towards you. “What is the matter?”

“It’s about the tea shop,” you said. “Or, specifically, a certain employee.”

“That boy you met? Lee?” she said. Her muzzle wrinkled, though it was with concern, not anger. “Has he done something wrong to you?”

“No, not at all,” you said. “Well. Maybe a little bit, but he’s not quite aware that he’s done anything. And then there’s the whole problem with the Blue Spirit…”

“Your mysterious savior? What is his relation to the situation?” she said. “Dearest Y/N, you must explain at once before I am irreversibly angered.”

“Lee makes me feel bizarre!” you said, throwing your hands in the air. Quynh blinked at you.

“Makes you feel bizarre?” she said.

“Yes,” you said. “Incredibly so.”

There was really no other adjective for what it was. It was unprecedented, the kind of emotion you had never felt before, not for anyone – bar the Blue Spirit, but it was different even then. Of the same foundation, but taking a different form.

“You’ll have to explain a little more,” she said.

“It’s like my stomach is in knots,” you said. “And as if my heart has turned to a bird and is fluttering its wings about! What is this power that he has, that he can send my body into fits? But, for all that, I still want to be around him. It matters not what we are doing; as long as he is there, I am happy. Yet how can I be happy? He is driving me to failure! Why, for all I know, he really might bring about my death!”

For a moment, Quynh was silent, and then her body began to rumble. You were vindicated for a bit, thinking that she was growling with protective instinct, but your temporary satisfaction immediately vanished when you realized she was laughing.

“For a girl who spends so much time reading about so many different topics, you know so little of the world,” she said. “Though then again, this is the kind of thing that you have to experience to understand.”

“What are you talking about?” you said.

“He doesn’t have any special powers, and you aren’t going to die,” she said. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you like him.”

Your mind blanked. The thought of you liking Lee was utterly preposterous. Lee, the snarky tea server? Lee, the passionate super-fan of The Mask of the Blue Spirit? Lee, who’d just as soon say something rude as he would something kind? If Quynh was to be believed, then that Lee was someone you liked, but that just wasn’t right.

“No way!” you said. “I can’t have feelings for Lee.”

“Why not?” Quynh said.

“He’s Lee!” you said helplessly. “It’s just — it’s just not how things are supposed to go.”

“Then how are things supposed to go?” she said. “Why is there a certain way that it must all happen? Things are rarely if ever set in stone, even in a kingdom made up of Earthbenders.”

“The Blue Spirit,” you said. “It’s supposed to be him. He’s the one who’s saved me, the one who knows the truth of my bending and my identity. He’s the one I’m meant to like.”

“You told him you’re a bender?” Quynh said. “That’s a new development. I thought you didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“It’s that there was no one I could trust to tell,” you said. “Until him. If a man has saved your life twice, then you can expect that he will do so a third time as well, right? So I did not feel afraid in revealing that part of me to him. I’d reveal anything to him if he asked.”

“Then there is a conundrum,” Quynh said.

“Exactly. That’s why I can’t like Lee,” you said. “It’s the Blue Spirit. There is no doubt in my mind that he is the person you foresaw me finding.”

“Hm,” Quynh said. “Do you think so?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Lee reminds me that I am more than just a princess. I can live a different kind of life when I am with him — a happier kind. But the fact is that I am a princess, and the Blue Spirit shows me what that genuinely means. The reality of the world beyond the palace walls…if it were not for him, I’d still be blind to it all.”

Quynh sighed. “It’s not like you know who the Blue Spirit is.”

“No matter who he is underneath the mask, he’ll always be the Blue Spirit. He’ll always be the person who saved me,” you said, and then you slapped your hand over your mouth. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” Quynh parroted. “Why are you saying that?”

“I just — I just accidentally quoted Jin!” you said. Quynh, who, being a bear spirit, was not exactly well-read, huffed at you.

“Am I meant to know who Jin is?” she said.

“She’s a character in The Mask of the Blue Spirit,” you said.

“Okay,” she said.

“That line is a part of the ending I detest! Have I become such a shallow person that I bear a resemblance to her of all characters? What will Lee think? It’s our greatest point of contention, that we do not agree on the ending, but if I’ve gone and adopted her worldview, then that means I do subconsciously like it!” you wailed.

Once more, Quynh began to laugh, nudging you and knocking you over, though she caught you in her other paw before you could hit the ground. Putting you back in your comfortable spot nestled against her fur, she continued to chuckle as she spoke.

“Quoting a single line does not mean you agree with everything a character has done,” she said. “And what does it matter to you what Lee thinks?”

“It just does,” you said. “It really matters to me.”

“Princess, I think that your dilemma is not a dilemma at all,” she said.

“Huh? Yes, it is!” you said.

“It’s not,” she said. “If you search within yourself, you will know the truth. Even in just this conversation, even without seeking it out, I have found it. And no one can know your heart better than you, so there is no reason that you cannot do the same.”

“I’ve been searching! But no answer has made itself apparent,” you said.

“Keep looking,” she said. “One day, it will. Until then, you needn’t decide anything. No one is forcing your hand.”

That was true. It wasn’t as if you were being threatened into a decision, into an acknowledgment. If your feelings really were the kind that Quynh was suggesting, then things would be spoiled, so you vowed to push them aside for now and focus on other, more pressing matters.

“That’s not the only subject that I have been mulling over recently. Quynh, do you think I would have made a better queen than Kuei is king?” you said. Her ears pricked, and her voice took on an alarmed cast when she responded.

“I know you don’t mean to be seditious, but the implication is there,” she said.

“Maybe it is seditious, but I still want your answer. The Earth Kingdom was built on your back; you’ve witnessed every monarch’s reign, every king’s rise and fall, every war and each bloody moment in the land’s history. No one would know better than you if I made the right decision all of those years ago,” you said.

“It’s not so simple,” she said. “Every king has inherited a different world than their predecessors. Some anre easier times than others, but all have their variances. Kuei is not a bad king, believe it or not. He is an uneducated one, an ignorant one, perhaps even an inept one, but he is not a bad one. He was one born to rule over a world at peace, one born to mature slowly and reign in old age, and he was given none of those considerations.”

“What about me?” you said.

“You are a princess who wants to love her people very much,” she said. “There’s always a place for that kind of royalty. However, there’s no saying what kind of ruler you would’ve been; the likelihood is that you would’ve been the same as your brother. Children are not meant to rule, dear girl. Remember it well; a boy should not be king any more than a crook should.”

You swallowed. “If only our father were still here. Things would be better.”

The father who you had never met, yet whose absence you mourned daily anew. If he were still alive, then would Ba Sing Se be as troubled as it had become under your brother’s command? You tried to imagine what kind of a man he would be. The 51st Earth King…you had read the stories and the songs until you had memorized them, but they were flimsy replacements for knowing him, for loving him.

You envied Kuei in that sense. He had met your parents. He had loved your parents and been loved by them in return. Neither of them had even known you long enough to love you. Were it not for Quynh and Kuei, you wouldn’t have been loved by anyone at all.

“They would be,” Quynh said. “But your father is gone, Y/N, and you cannot change the past. For better or for worse, your brother is the king.”

“Ba Sing Se is falling apart,” you said. “The great capital that you and Shan built is crumbling under Kuei’s control. The worst part is that he does not even know it, and he would not believe me if I told him! Isn’t it a sad twist? That I am the one with the knowledge but not the power, and he is the one who knows nothing yet has everything!”

“You are still a princess,” Quynh said. “Not a king nor a queen, but you are still the second-most powerful person in this kingdom. You are not as helpless as you are determined to believe yourself.”

“What can I do?” you said.

She angled her paw so that you slid off of it and onto your feet, and then she curled back up in her usual position. A door opened, one that must’ve led to Ba Sing Se, and she let out a gravelly exhale.

“If there is a problem, then you must understand it,” she said. “Only then can you begin to fix it. Do you understand what is happening in the city at present? In your own palace?”

“Not really,” you said. “Do you?”

“I do, but I also do not,” she said. “It’s an internal knowledge that I cannot explain to anyone else, but I am aware of it. Like an itch on my back which I cannot reach.”

“Spirit nonsense,” you said. “No matter. You’re right; even if Lee cannot tell me, there must be some way I can suss things out.”

“It’s a large city,” Quynh agreed. “There will be someone willing to help you. You only need to find them. As you found the Blue Spirit. As you found Lee.”

“Do you think I can?” you said.

“I think you can do a lot more than you are aware of,” she said. “You remind me of someone else. Someone I knew a very long time ago.”

“One of my ancestors?” you said.

“My own brother,” she said. “It has been ages upon ages since I saw him last. I thought that I could not quite recall his face anymore, but then I saw yours, and I knew that it had to be the same. I knew that he had come to be at my side again, however briefly.”

Her brother — Shan. The founder of the Earth Kingdom, who had against all odds taken a continent at war and turned it into a single nation that was united and powerful beyond even the wildest dreams of his contemporaries. What kind of equivalency was that? Who would think to compare you with the legendary first king?

You thought that Quynh’s passageway would lead you to the tea shop, as it usually did, but instead it spit you out in front of a building far too elegant to be in the Lower Ring. That meant you must’ve been in the Upper Ring, where the wealthier residents of Ba Sing Se stayed.

“Why am I here?” you muttered. Reading the sign hung above the door, you saw that the building was a girls’ poetry house. When you strained your ears, you heard the dulcet tones of recited haikus being whispered back and forth, though an unexpected addition made you pause. “That’s an awfully masculine sounding girl…”

All of a sudden, the door slammed open, and a man in a security uniform tossed out a boy clad in blue. Your eyes widened as he came flying at you, knocking you to the floor beneath him with the force of the guard’s throw.

“Aw, man,” the boy groaned. “I was just trying to show my appreciation for poetry — woah! When did you get here?”

His eyes were a bright, clear blue, though it was not the dark shade of the Blue Spirit’s mask, but rather a luminous, glittering color that pierced straight through you. For a moment, you thought that he must’ve known your every secret and intimacy — such was the depth of his gaze. But it only lasted for a moment, after which you remembered that there was no way he could’ve come to know it all just by looking at you.

“I was just passing by, and then that boorish security threw you at me!” you said. The boy leapt to his feet and offered you his hand, pulling you up when you took it and giving you a wide grin in return.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, shaking the hand he had already captured in his own vigorously. “I’m Sokka!”

“Y/N,” you said. He narrowed his eyes at you, leaning closer and scrutinizing you, an ordeal for which you stayed entirely still. Only when he was finally satisfied did he straighten, though he was still frowning slightly.

“That name is mighty familiar,” he said. “Have we met or something? I feel like I know you.”

“I…used to be in the circus?” you said, silently apologizing to Lee and Mushi for stealing their personal backgrounds for your cover story. “A very well-regarded one. I was, um, famous. For my acrobatics. That’s probably where you recognize me from.”

You hoped Mushi wouldn’t be upset that you had just appropriated his identity. It was the only one you could think of without the time to prepare in advance, and even then only because it was on your mind due to how absurd you had found it when Lee had mentioned it.

“We haven’t visited any circuses on our trip,” Sokka said. “So that can’t be it.”

“I’m a household name!” you said. “The main attractions tend to be, you know. Everyone across the Earth Kingdom knows who I am.”

This was actually not a lie. It would be difficult to find a single family who had not at least heard of you, but it wasn’t because of your nonexistent acrobatic prowess. Either way, it must have been convincing enough, as Sokka just shrugged it off.

“If you say so,” he said. “Can you do a cartwheel?”

“Not in a dress, I can’t,” you said. “Don’t be foolish. How would I possibly maneuver my limbs in that way with all of this fabric obstructing me?”

“Aw, I was really hoping you could show me how it’s done! I’ve always wanted to learn how to cartwheel,” Sokka said as the two of you began to walk away from the poetry house. He swung his arms by his sides as he walked, with a lackadaisical looseness you had never observed so closely before. Even Lee, Mushi, and the Blue Spirit had neat, contained manners to their gaits, each movement done with purpose, but Sokka was haphazard and almost unwieldy in his grace.

“If I were wearing pants, I might be able to demonstrate, but as it is, you’ll have to find another teacher,” you said.

“Wait! I have the best idea ever!” Sokka said. “You’re going to love this.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when he said that, but whatever it had been, it was not this. It did not come as a surprise that you did not love it; in fact, you were more befuddled than anything.

Sokka’s clothes did not by any means fit you properly, and the same could be said for your dress on his frame. He did not seem to mind, though, giving you a double-thumbs-up when he emerged from behind the wall where he had changed.

“You look great!” he said.

“I don’t know that I can say the same about you, but in the interest of being polite, I should like to tell you that you appear radiant at the moment,” you said.

“Why’re you speaking like you’re about to give a speech or something? Seriously, you Upper Ring folk are so weird,” he said.

“Aren’t you also one of the Upper Ring folk?” you said. “Considering I’ve met you here, you must be.”

“Nah, I’m just a visitor,” he said.

“But a very important one. Not everyone is lodged in the Upper Ring,” you said. Sokka blushed and waved you off.

“I know a guy or two,” he said. “No biggie, just another day in the life. But enough talking! Let’s get to cartwheeling. This is a moment I’ve dreamed of for a long time!”

“I hope you’ve been dreaming of being disappointed for equally as long,” you said.

“What’d you say?” he said.

“Nothing,” you said.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he said. “Show me how it’s done!”

There was a problem: you had no idea how to do a cartwheel. If only it were Mushi in your place! According to Lee, he was supremely flexible, and he had his circus training. As well, his patient and kind demeanor meant that he would be uniquely suited to being Sokka’s cartwheeling mentor. At any rate, he’d be better than you at the job, though that wasn’t really a high bar.

“Here goes nothing,” you said, taking a deep breath and raising your arms over your head. Trying to emulate what you had heard about the movement, you took a step forward and tried to push off with your back leg.

Somehow, it happened that your slipper came flying off, smacking Sokka in the face as you lost your balance and landed in a heap on the cobblestones of the street. Sokka shrieked as he, too, was knocked over, though through the dim awareness you had of the situation, you could not quite discern how a mere shoe had been enough to warrant that much of a reaction.

“I think you’re bad luck,” he said, rubbing his head. “No wonder you left the circus. I can’t believe they kept you around for as long as they did!”

“I’m out of practice,” you said, accepting the shoe he passed you and putting it back on. “Could I have my clothes back, perhaps? Or have you taken a liking to them? Because I do not think you wear green as well as I do.”

“Hey!”

Once you and he were back in your regular clothes, you readied yourself to wish Sokka farewell. You weren’t really sure what he was doing or why he was in the Upper Ring, but you thought it was safe to say that he was not the person Quynh was talking about, the one who would be willing to help you in solving the problems of your kingdom.

“I still can’t shake the feeling that you remind me of someone,” Sokka said.

“Do you have any siblings?” you said.

“A younger sister,” he said.

“It’s probably her. I’m a younger sister, too,” you said. “If you’re not an avid circus-goer, then that’s the only other option I can come up with.”

“That’s another thing! I’ve never heard of circus performers speaking so fancily,” he said.

“You said it yourself that you haven’t visited any circuses on your trip, so how would you know?” you said. “It’s a shame that you have these stereotypes in your head. You should do some introspection about where they originate from.”

“What — no, I’m not — that’s not what I meant! There’s just something about you that I’m this close to figuring out!” he said, holding up his thumb and pointer finger, pressing them together for effect.

“You’re not getting paid for it, so why waste the effort?” you said.

“I’m just a curious — duck!” he said.

“Duck? Do you mean a turtleduck? That’s an interesting way to describe yourself — oh!” you said as he pulled you to the ground and out of the way of an incoming boulder.

“Whose bad side did you get on, huh?” Sokka said, motioning for you to run along with him. It was nothing like when you and the Blue Spirit had fled from the assassin’s previous attack; you didn’t have that implicit trust in Sokka to protect you, and for his part, Sokka was just as panicked as you were, so all told it was a much less graceful exit as you charged through the streets of the Upper Ring.

“A bunch of assassins!” you said. “They’ve been chasing me on and off for weeks now.”

“Assassins?” Sokka wheezed out as you increased your pace. “Just what kind of acrobat were you?”

“One that made a lot of enemies — look out!” you said, jumping into the air to avoid the stone gloves that reached for your ankles. Missing their target, they slammed into the wall and burst into smithereens.

“We’re almost at our guest house!” Sokka said. “The others should be able to help us if we haven’t lost these freaks by then. We just have to reach there before getting, y’know, crushed!”

“That’d be ideal!” you said, covering your head with your hands as you rounded a corner. Sokka kicked the door to a luxurious villa down, shoving you in and then slamming it shut behind him, pressing his back to it as the three occupants of the home gave you both alarmed looks.

“Assassins — rocks — cartwheel instructor!” Sokka said, heaving for breath and pointing at you. You waved at the trio, who must’ve been the friends that Sokka was visiting Ba Sing Se with.

One was a beautiful girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to Sokka — indubitably, this was his sister, though unlike Sokka, her eyes swirled with something lively and unsettled, as if they were twin seas set in her sweet face. Beside her was another girl, this one with fine features like a lady but a rough aura like a wrestler, and on her right was a boy with the blue arrows of an Airbending master running along his body.

“You’re going to have to repeat that,” Sokka’s sister said. “What’s going on? Who is this?”

“My cartwheeling instructor,” Sokka said.

“In a manner of speaking,” you said. “I didn’t really teach him much.”

“You know how to cartwheel? I love cartwheeling!” the Airbender said.

“Why didn’t Sokka ask you to teach him, then?” you said. The boy shrugged.

“Dunno,” he said.

“We were in the middle of a lesson—” Sokka began.

“As I recall, we were about to part ways,” you interrupted. Sokka shushed you impatiently.

“Like I was saying, we were in the middle of a lesson when, out of nowhere, pow! There was a boulder flying at our heads, and then boom! We almost died from it!” he said. You decided to just be quiet and let him tell the story; he had a flair for dramatics that you could not hope to match.

“What? Why?” his sister said.

“No idea! She said that she’s been being chased by those assassins for a while now!” Sokka said.

“Did you bring a criminal into our house?” his sister said, arching a brow at you. “Are you a criminal?”

“Not as far as I know,” you said. “I suppose I’m not really meant to be out here, but it’s not against any significant law for me to be. It’s just a family rule I’ve broken.”

“You said that they’re assassins?” the younger of the two girls said. “There’s no way. I didn’t sense anyone coming near us except for you two and some of the Dai Li agents.”

“They must be super sneaky!” Sokka said. “Right, Y/N?”

“Hm, it might be,” you said, lost in thought at this suggestion. Though you had no idea what she meant when she said she had sensed the Dai Li’s presence, you also had no reason to think that the girl was lying. There were two things that that could mean if what she said was correct, and neither of them were options you wanted to be true.

“Sokka,” his sister said. It was then that you realized that she, the Airbender, and the other girl were staring at you. “What did you just call your new friend?”

“You’re right! I can’t believe I forgot to do introductions! Y/N, this is Aang, Toph, and my sister Katara. Everyone, this is Y/N,” Sokka said, pointing at everyone as he said their names.

“Hello,” you said. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“Sokka!” Katara said. “You dumb, idiotic genius! We’ve been trying to talk to the king for ages, and you just happened to meet his sister while out and about!”

“That’s where I knew your name from!” Sokka said. “Princess Y/N, duh. Wait! You’re Princess Y/N!”

“Um,” you said, swearing internally at the fact that you had not thought to come up with a new name to go along with your alter ego as an acrobat. “No, I’m not.”

“She’s lying,” Toph said. “I have seismic sense, so you can forget about trying to make things up, princess. I’ll be able to tell in an instant.”

“You don’t know how good it is to meet you!” Aang said. “We’ve been trying to talk to your brother for a while now, but it’s not been going well.”

“Why would you want to talk to Kuei?” you said before you could stop yourself, rolling your eyes at the mere thought of anyone actually desiring to speak with him. “He’s not the most stimulating conversationalist.”

“You’re Princess Y/N!” Sokka said again. “You’re the princess of the Earth Kingdom, and I made you wear my clothes and do cartwheels!”

“When you put it like that, it does sound like a grave offense,” you said. “Shall I have you executed for it?”

“No!” he said, falling to his knees and bowing. “Oh esteemed, valued, generous, kind, benevolent princess, please spare my life! Please please please please please please—”

“I was only joking,” you informed him.

“We have to speak to the Earth King,” Aang said. “Do you think you could get us an audience? It’s urgent. If it helps, tell him the Avatar is the one making the request.”

“You’re the Avatar?” you said. Aang nodded at you, his expression grave and at odds with his youthful countenance. “For some reason, I thought you’d be older.”

“He’s technically 112 years old,” Sokka piped up from where he was now supine on the floor by your feet. “So there’s that.”

“I see,” you said. “You look good for your age, then. My apologies for making assumptions.”

“It’s complicated,” Aang said. “Do you think you can help us, though?”

“We’re kind of at our wits’ ends,” Katara added.

“Those Earth Palace dolts are the next level of stupid,” Toph said. “It’s all a bunch of bureaucracy and rules. Blech.”

“I can’t guarantee it,” you said. “I’m sorry. I’m not even allowed to be here right now. You see, I’m forbidden to leave my chambers. It’s only through the power of a spirit named Quynh that I may enter and exit without detection — though, I’m beginning to doubt how true that part is, but that’s an issue for me to work through on my own time. I’ll do my best to help you all while I’m at it, but for the most part, my hands are tied.”

“Okay,” Katara said when it became obvious that the others were too disappointed to come up with a response. “There’s nothing more we can ask of you. Just — it’s really urgent. You have to mean it when you say you’ll do your best.”

“I do mean it,” you said. “But in case, is there any other message you’d like me to pass along?”

“There is a war,” Aang said. “He has to ignore everything that he’s been told and realize that. There’s a war going on, and without his support, we’re going to lose it.”

A war. Of course. It made so much sense. The refugees. The injuries. The state of Ba Sing Se. It all pointed towards a distant yet rapidly encroaching conflict. That was the problem. That was what you needed to understand, or at least begin with understanding — there were other things that the Avatar and his friends had accidentally or purposefully revealed, smaller details that you would pick at and dissect until their natural conclusions, but this was the main point.

Not yet, though. These were things best done in the harsh, inescapable brightness of day, and tonight’s twilight was already waning. Soon, it would be time for the daily lighting of the Firelight Fountain’s lanterns, and there was something else you wanted to do before that.

Blending into crowds when you could, creeping past checkpoints and keeping your head lowered to avoid detection, you snuck into the Lower Ring, making your way towards a certain place, Quynh’s words coming to mind all of a sudden.

He would be starting his evening shift soon. You could picture him putting his apron on, rolling up his sleeves and complaining to his uncle about how much he hated his job and how they deserved to be somewhere else — the circus, perhaps? You weren’t sure, for he never really elaborated, but that was because the alternative location was not as important as the dissatisfaction he felt.

Despite your best efforts to quash it for fear of looking like a fool — what normal person was so excited by the prospect of apologizing to the dourest boy born to humanity? — a smile formed on your face as you began to walk faster, towards the tea shop where you knew Lee would be waiting.

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