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["Stopppp,"]

Kiwi Kiss didn't like mournful reminiscing. She liked staying in the present whenever she could-- focus on what was right in front of her and enjoy life as it slowly unfolded. It was simpler, anyway. Simpler and healthier, she found. Sometimes, though, when the days got particularly quiet and she didn't have a soul to speak to it was harder. Days like today, where the store remained empty and Kiwi leaned over the counter, idly drawing her hoof over her sales book with a sigh. She wasn't naive. She looked it, at times, and was treated like she was, but... she wasn't. She knew a store devoted to exclusively selling kiwi-themed things was going to sometimes face hard times, especially in December. Who wanted fruit then? Well, she did, but other than her... well, she just didn't have the customer base of fanatics like her. Things were slow around this time, even with her wintery-themed kiwi pastries. Slow and lonely. The cafe that hosted singles nights had been hosting more events than usual, hoping to give the desperate singles someone to bring home for the holidays, but Kiwi Kiss had stopped attending. She could hear her brother chastising her gently for the decision, but something about December felt melancholic in the love department, reminding her just how slow her love life actually was. At least she had friends this year! That was absolutely a plus. But, on days like these, when customers, family, and friends were busy, she found herself reminiscing. Remembering the cute girl that had made her heart hammer in her chest whenever she stopped by. Remembering the scent of the sea on her whenever she graced Kiwi Kiss with her company. Remembering how the day before she had vanished to the dreaded waters Kiwi had clutched her chest and readied her breath to ask her if their heart fluttered like Kiwi's. Ughhhh. Kiwi Kiss sighed wistfully and rubbed her face into the counter, hooves fussing with her hair. "Stopppp," she whined, wings fluttering in frustration. "The ships are docking soon, I gotta pep up!" She slapped at her face and nodded, pushing her chest out. Yes! Ship docking meant more customers usually since they were hungry for something sweet (or alcoholic, which she also had) and her store was right by the beach. She had no time to mope about! @Atmadja

Hemlock was stressed, and reasonably so. Ivy made a habit of exploring the great outdoors, with or without Hemlock's permission--if he could pretend she cared for something like that-- and at any time of the day. She did what she wanted, and, honestly? Honestly? Hemlock let her. He didn't believe in controlling his "pet" and viewed her as her own entity -- an entity that was half the time dependant on him, but if she wanted to roam free he wasn't going to stop her as long as she was safe. Ivy always came home to him before he went to bed; an unspoken rule that had developed between them over her kittenhood. She always came home, rain or shine, and Hemlock had comforted himself with that knowledge. Except now she hadn't. It had been three days. Three agonizing and painful days for the witchy gardener. He had begun panicking on the second day, and the third had been spent pasting fliers in every nook and cranny of Phonyland. He would have spammed the internet if he had a phone or computer or anything that could access it, but Hemlock was this close to selling everything he loved to do so. Ivy was his baby -- his sun, his moon, his best friend. She was everything to him, and the thought of something having hurt her made his blood (or whatever acted as so within him) run cold. Not Ivy; anything but Ivy! He wished it was he in trouble over her. The fliers had his home address written all over them and a promise of something as a reward. He was a poor man, sure, but he had things... really, he'd give anything to get her back. The concern of safety hadn't dawned on him, and if it had he would have shrugged it off. If someone came to his home to hurt him due to his poor planning with the fliers then so be it; he was not only a poor man but a lonely one. No one would really mourn him. Maybe his coven, but Hemlock wasn't entirely sure. Ivy would miss him. Ivy -- ooooh, Ivy! He paced his house anxiously, slipping between hundreds of plants and worrying away at his hooves as he relentlessly trudged through his house, huffing and sighing every few minutes. He should go back out there and look for her again, but what if someone came? What if someone had found her and was trying to find his house? Oh -- he couldn't risk it. Not today, at least. He had a feeling something was going to happen, and he hoped it was good.

@HopelesslyPretty

Paladin fussed with his lunch pail, setting it neatly onto the bench table before him. He sat by himself, mostly to pour over the study guide their teacher had given them prior to the field trip, circling answers to the questions he knew and marking the ones he needed to glance over again when they returned to the aquarium. He was a studious sort, for the most part -- especially now, when his mother was entrenched in work and clearly needed something good to come home to. Truthfully, he wanted to be that good thing for her, which pushed him to focus on his grades the best he could. Even during lunch break on a field trip.

He hadn't looked up from his task yet, hair flopping into his eyes as he hawed and hummed over the paper, at times pausing to glance at his lunch pail -- untouched but not forgotten. He just... had a few more questions to fill out, then he'd tackle food.

@Syrcaid

Kiwi Kiss wasn't unaware of her good fortune lately -- blessed by the friendship (with benefits) with Lemon Lime which had begun to unwind a realization in her that she was worth another. Gone were the insecurities she had accumulated from an age of loneliness, instead replaced by a blossoming understanding of who she was and what she wanted. She wanted forever with someone, regardless of what it came with. She was ready to try the path of love earnestly and enjoy the fun in-between. Her nights with LL were rewarding and healing, reminding her of her own worth. Someone out there would be her one and only, and she was on the hunt.

Happy Endings was a sweet flutter -- charming, confident, and equipped with a sense of humor she found absolutely delightful. All musts in her list of 'what makes a good partner'! She had invited him over for the night, intent on revealing the tickets hurriedly dropped into her hooves by a customer and pursue, at minimum, a friendship. If more came then that would be lovely, but regardless she found the flutter charming. She just hoped he didn't mind the invitation, but that was the point of the mixer, right? To meet others and expand your circle?

She fussed in the mirror, tussling curls tightly. She had debated letting her hair down, deciding against it with a soft sigh. Her home was a floor above her little green store, just as green as its counterpart. Vanity came to Kiwi at times, evident as she fixed her hair and inspected her face. Oh, she did hope he found the place easily enough, but she didn't dare text him again. No need to rush, after all!

@cursedwanderer 

["What was father like?"]

"What was father like?"

She knew the question would happen sooner or later, she just hadn't expected it'd take this long. After all the mulling and pondering on how she'd answer the inevitable she had never landed on an answer she liked, leaving her to just wing it. At the time it had sounded like a good idea -- just follow the heart and it'd all work out. Now, with her son staring directly at her at the foot of the couch, it sounded like a mistake.

She let loose a low sigh as she set down her origami paper, placing it neatly on the table beside the arm of the couch. Paladin didn't follow her movement, eyes locked on her. Unsettling -- it meant he was serious.

"Well," she began, biding her time with a drink from her glass. "He was very sweet. Considerate -- often worried about if he was being polite enough. It was silly; I found him perfectly wonderful at all times." She paused, noting her son's frown. Odd. "He cared a lot about his responsibilities, and whether he was doing a good enough job at them. You remind me of him, in fact."

Paladin stared at her, a frown exploring his face. It wasn't the answer he had wanted, truthfully, especially if in the end she compared him to his father. He had come to her for clarity in his decision making, but it only... complicated things.

"If he cared so much he wouldn't have left us," he answered firmly.[ color=#42DDFF] "And taken Sanctuary."[/color] Perhaps he was too unexperienced to understand, but surely someone so swept up in their duties wouldn't have abandoned his family, right? He could see it in her face -- he didn't know the whole story, but then again, did she? He felt entitled to being angry about the circumstances, in fact. Anger was a new emotion to experience, but it was there and had been simmering for quite some time, nipping at his heels each time he felt he was ready and done with it. No, he needed answers, and it started with his father.

"Paladin, baby," Blind Love began, only to crumple her shoulders in defeat. He hated seeing her so miserable, but honestly it just made him angrier.

"What was his purpose?" He demanded, voice even and level despite the heat of his stare.

"That's an awfully load-"

"No, I mean his purpose. His special talent -- his symbol of being."

Oh. Blind Love smiled fondly, reaching out to gently push hair from Paladin's face. "Knight in Shining Armor," she answered, freezing as her son abruptly scowled. Now that was an expression she wasn't used to. "Pal?"

Of course -- of course! He had hoped for anything else. Something to detach himself from the man he felt so much animosity from, but there it was again -- proof of their connection. His father was a knight out to save others and Paladin.... well, he wanted something awfully similar, didn't he?

Well.
Guess it was time to entirely change his life plan.

"I see," Paladin answered, dry and scratched at the edges. Dejected was the word, but Paladin couldn't put a hoof on his mood currently. He stepped back, a frown stuck on his features, as if etched in with permanent marker. Blind Love sat upright, hooves settling into her lap. Right, this had to stop.

"Why do you ask?" Her voice was soft and careful, but she stared at her son with intent.

"Because," Paladin started, unable to meet her eyes. "In class we discussed purpose, and I- I thought I had mine planned. But if it's the same as his, then... I don't want it."

Blind Love cooed softly, reaching out for her son. As serious and stern as he liked to be he didn't deny her comfort, letting her sweep him up into a tight hug. He sighed heavily, feeling her hooves gently comb through his hair and her delicate hums. One day, he'd be too old for this, but he'd enjoy it while he could.

"Sweet little Paladin, you got it wrong," she hummed, leaning back as Paladin raised his head to acknowledge her. "Just because you have the same ambition and goals doesn't mean you're the same. I could defend your father forever, but at the end of the day you have very real feelings, and they're okay to have. They're yours. But, it doesn't mean you're your father. No matter if he was here or not, your purpose would be your own, and it would manifest in its own special and unique way. Tell me; what did you want your purpose to be?"

Paladin sat there, hair combed and eyes downcast as he considered her words. Her wise words. Kids were meant to always respect and admire their parents, but Blind made it easy. She just... knew what to say, even when he didn't know what he was saying. His head held low, hooves working together into a nervous fret. He wasn't accustomed to feeling out of place, honestly.

"I want to help people," he answered, finally. "But not just good people. Anyone who needs it -- as long as it doesn't hurt someone else."

Blind Love softly tutted, nodding as she considered his words. "Well, does that mean you have to be a knight, like your father?" She questioned. He looked up, frowning.

"Isn't that what... that is?"
"What if you were something else? Like -- like a hero?"

Paladin paused, testing the word out. Hero. Hero. Yeah -- yeah, he liked that. A lot more. A hero saved people! That was their whole point. It... it felt right. Hero.

"I like it," he answered softly, looking up at his mother. She had the answer all along, didn't she? Why hadn't he spoken to her sooner? A hero! Yeah! That was all his. Something individual, and separate from his father. He reached up, loosely hugging his mother. "Thank you, I will need to think on my future as a hero, then." He slipped from her lap, immediately heading off to draw crests for his hero design.  And research -- plenty of research. Which would start with playing Legend of Zelda, to.... y'know -- get really in character.

Or unwind from a stressful talk, that works too.

As he wandered off his mother sat in her seat, still and quiet. She had wanted to say more -- wanted to ask him why he hated his father with such a burning passion. It was probably her fault. The sad sighs and lonely looks could only go missed for so long until one of her sons noticed, and now she felt.... worse. Her suffering had soured Paladin's view of his father, and while, yes, he was missing with her daughter he.... she didn't believe it to be malicious. Their love was over and done, but -- she didn't view him as a bad person.

But Paladin did, and she almost wished she had stopped him to speak further. She would have, but the look of clarity and delight in his eyes had stopped her. He had found his purpose, and... well, she wanted him to have that happiness.

Sometime later they'd need to talk about Just Lance, but right now she was content to go back to her origami, worrying away at delicate paper while rain gently pitter-pattered against the window.

["Alright sweethearts -- remember what I said about getting your ingredients portioned out ahead of time! Start setting your bowls and dishes up. I'll make my rounds in a few minutes~!"]

Bee Sweet frowned as he set up at the make-shift kitchen, hooves tapping away to drown out his worries. He... wasn't the worst at cooking, but he wasn't overtly talented at it, either. The school had allowed a local baker to volunteer and instruct the children on cooking a tart for the day, something which Bee Sweet imagined he'd either excel at or hide behind his back instead of showing his parents. A tart sounded hard -- he had made cookies before, but a tart sounded completely different!

The students in his class had all been assigned small stations side by side. Kiwi Kiss fussed with hers at the front, eyes scrunched as she seemed to struggle with the child-sized equipment. Her wings buzzed, a hoof pushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Alright sweethearts -- remember what I said about getting your ingredients portioned out ahead of time! Start setting your bowls and dishes up. I'll make my rounds in a few minutes~!"

@Gl!tch~

["What color should I be?"]

Recess had begun and Paladin had watched the other students over the last few weeks play chess with Checkmate. He had... no clue how they did it, honestly, but it hadn't ever been a thought in Paladin's head. Not until now, that is. Checkmate sat there quietly and Paladin had waited for their opponent to announce themselves, only to note that they... never did. That nagging little voice in Paladin's head shoved him forward, pushing him to settle in the seat across from Checkmate, intent on ensuring the foal wasn't alone for recess.

But now he had a bigger problem.

He stared at the board, barely paying attention as Checkmate set it up neatly. How did- how did one start? They had to pick a color, right? And then... what? His pride refused to let him admit his lack of bearings, his hoof raising to gesture to the board with a false confidence.

"What color should I be?"

@Byagane319

Bee Sweet had collected all of his allowance and extra funds, rattling them in a small bag as he stared up at the shelf of legos. Ever since he had seen someone online make a bee from legos he had been smitten, but... he was sure he couldn't afford it yet. He could save a bit longer, and he would, but that didn't stop Bee from slinking back into the toy store and pining, hoping they'd go on sale eventually.

That day was not today, however. He could ask his parents if they'd buy them for him, but Bee wanted to prove he was finally mature enough on his own. How could he prove a point if he still went to his parents for toys? They'd never believe him capable enough when it came time to ask them if they'd like him have a bee farm in the backyard!

Ugh, being mature was hard.

@shortcutt

Sugar Petal felt at ease, mostly. Her feelings for Lavender Lemon were acknowledged, accepted, and even turned into an engagement. They had found a home together and now the wedding planning remained, although Sugar left most of it to Lav. Honestly, she didn't mind whatever the wedding turned into -- she was just happy to wed her best friend and fiancée. However, something else nagged at the corners of her mind, nibbling away whenever the room was just quiet enough. For awhile, perhaps weeks, she had let it go, unsure if the feeling was anything long-lasting or permanent.

But it kept returning.

She had felt it before, although briefly and often the result of a cheesy romance movie or a feel-good commercial about pampers; short but fleeting. Sugar Petal always chalked it up to nothing more than a brief and flimsy interest. That was before Lavender Lemon shared a home with her, and now the feeling lingered. It didn't need prompting, instead blossoming on its own and slowly taking root in her heart. Sugar Petal was a patient sort, someone who mulled things over being they finally spilled their thoughts. Finally, she stood before the window in the living room, waiting for her fiancée to return home. Maybe it was time to have the talk.

@purpleroses

["Um,"]

Bee Sweet had been paired with Rorschach, the two challenged to create a DIY volcano by the end of class. Bee's hooves held the instructions tenderly, as if a gentle hoof might convince the project to unfold to their desires peacefully. Classmates next to them already suffered by clumsy handlings, their ingredients spilling this way and that. It was meant to be messy, the teacher informed them all, but Bee didn't want to make any such disaster. No, they were going to make the best volcano!

"Um," he began, setting the instructions down. "Have you ever done this before?"

@Yasha

["Do you mind what bug we find?"]

'Find a partner and take three photos of a bug! You'll write a report together using those pictures.'

Easier said than done! Bokeh and Bee Sweet had been sitting near one another, making it only natural to easily gesture at the other for their partner. Outside they stood, with Bee Sweet handing the camera to Bokeh as he tried to find a bug in sight. It seemed when pressured they were nowhere to be found. A soft and low huff escaped him as he turned rock after rock, peeking at branches and then the dirt itself after.

"Do you mind what bug we find?"

@Tristam

Paladin clutched his school bag securely to his side, taunt across his shoulder and hidden from the droplets of rain repelling off puddles and metal. He had found sanctuary under the exposed roof of a local shop, eyes drawn to the heavens above with a dull and lifeless expression. Rain. His mother had told him to pack an umbrella and he, lost in thought about the days test, had forgotten it entirely. He had his bag, but truthfully he rather wait just a bit longer to see if the rain let up.

Honestly, it seemed unlikely.

Still, he was patient as he was persistent, and perhaps just as much interested in being dry. He really should have listened to Blind Love, honestly, but -- well, school was tough. Those vocabulary words weren't going to memorize themselves.

@Astraea

The cure to a broken heart was work -- at least to Blind Love. Work, and her children, although Blind did her best to ensure her own sadness didn't impede on them, either. They had other things to do, like playing with their friends or trying out new hobbies. Things that didn't mean she could depend on them for her happiness all the time. So, work received most of her time when her kids were busy. The restaurant had flourished and been redecorated, menus redone and events hosted. She had extended herself to helping the community, also, lending a hoof in hosting speed-dates in local bars and inns. Work had been bustling, but as time went on the familiar ache came back.

Especially whenever she saw singles hit it off with one another.

The other night had plummeted her mood especially. A new pair had thanked her for introducing them to one another and Blind felt a pang she had ignored before. She missed him, the pain swallowing her whole in one vicious and unrelenting bite. He had been everything. Her everything. Their love had brought together three beautiful children and Blind Love had only seen before her -- a future where they ended up in one another's arms. She had let herself be consumed by his love, and now she starved without it. She had stayed strong for their children; stayed strong for everyone who needed her or wanted from her. It was growing tiring, and Blind Love found herself fraying at the edges.

It hurt.

Tonight had been another kick in the gut -- another night where she hosted a speed-dating event at a nearby bar. As the workers began packing up her decorations neatly she waited at the bar, spent and hollow. She hadn't meant to say yes to a drink, but she did. Sparkling cider slipped down her throat and she sighed heavily, a hoof tussling a messy braid. The babysitter was tending to the sleeping kids until the wee hours of the morning -- she had plenty of time. Time for what? Wallowing silently? Pretending she was okay? Signing herself up for another obligation in the form of work?

Ugh, she didn't know. She just knew she needed another drink.
@Tristam @Yasha

[Discord]

Hello! I pretty much am always available on Discord, so feel free to drop a message there if anyone interests you! I am seeking all kinds of plots for my ponies, with ones I actively am thinking of noted under each character. If I don't have a plot idea noted it might be because I haven't thought of it, so feel free to offer anything! I'll have a section for plots I don't want, to help narrow things down.

I love romance plots, heartbreak plots, and helping others grow ponies. I tend to be a quick RPer if I am reminded time to time to tag, so please don't feel afraid to nudge me. I'm one of those people who doesn't notice time passing, so I swear reminders are super appreciated!

I can be a little picky with pairing ideas (I love colors meshing well or aesthetically contrasting), but I love romance plots! Throw singles at my singles! ; u ;

DM me at: Nym#7018

Paladin wasn't used to being bad at something. It wasn't like he excelled at everything he did, but Paladin at least didn't abhorrently fail with any of the tasks and hobbies he had previously undertaken. Not until now, evident by graceless stumbles and stiff movements. Dancing was apparently his bane, embarrassing him with each class his mother subjected him to. He didn't complain -- at least not outwardly --, intent on impressing his mother and siblings to the best of his abilities. She was a good and kind woman, someone who only pushed him to try new things in hope he'd find whatever sparked passion. She meant well, and Paladin also wondered if she shoved him into activity to forget the burning question on the tip of everyone's tongue: 'Where's Dad?'

So, he'd persist, but he wasn't doing it in a graceful fashion. At some point the teacher must have noticed, careful where she looked when she announced it was time to select dance partners. No one wanted to pair with Paladin -- his inability didn't go unnoticed. Call him stubborn, but Paladin also wasn't going to subject anyone to his clumsiness, sequestered off into a corner of the room in hopes no one might feel pressured to ask him as their partner.

And, honestly -- this was the first time he had ever felt an inkling of embarrassment.
@purpleroses