#i guess a continuation to my previous drabble

[irondad-defensesquad]

Tony kneels in front of Peter, whose gaze is miserable.

“Hey,” the former beckons. “Is there anything that could help you feel better? Even a little? Can be anything at all.”

Peter shows that he’s thinking of an answer. For now he doesn’t look at Tony, but he slowly analyzes the environment around them. Peter is holding his own hands. Tony may find the slightly oversized sweater adorable in him, even if the kid isn’t looking so sharp right now.

“... my room,” the latter mumbles.

“Hm?”

Peter looks ashamed. “I hate how my room looks right now. It’s… bothering me so much.”

“We can fix that.”

The teen doesn’t look entirely motivated.

“I can tidy it up–”

“Mr. Stark, don’t.”

“I don’t mind, kid.”

“Yeah, but it’s my room, I should’ve cleaned it forever ago. That’s not on you.”

Tony’s smile might falter a bit. “Well, I can do what I want, and you can’t stop me,” he jokes.

That at least makes Peter smirk. “Yeah, sure.”

Tony helps get all the clothes thrown around, handing them to Peter so he knows where to put them. Tony then organizes his school material, and he can’t help but see the tiny doodles Peter drew of Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony grins.

Finally, Peter picks the broom to remove most of the dust on the floor. He does it slowly. Tony handles his desk overall.

Peter suddenly stops moving.

Tony looks at him.

The boy drops the broom as he finally starts crying.

“Hey, hey…” Tony rushes to him. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so tired, Mr. Stark… I c-can’t–”

“Shh, it’s okay. You did great,” Tony guides him to bed. “You did great, Pete.”

“I’m sorry I’m…” Not good enough. I’m a mess. I’m a burden.

“It’s okay. It’s okay…” Tony repeats it as many times as he needs, whilst rubbing Peter’s back.

After many quiet sobs and sniffs, Peter shyly looks up.

“... Thanks,” he whispers.

Tony smiles sadly. “No prob, Bob. Now you rest, okay? I’m getting you a reward later.”

Peter chuckles. “What kind of reward?”

“A tasty one.”

“Does it involve ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

Peter watches Tony get the broom and do the rest of the cleaning. His puppy eyes are still growing deep. He looks so small, especially in the sweater and the blanket. He looks huggable.

“... What?” Peter notices Tony staring at him every now and then.

“You. You’re impossibly cute.”

Peter frowns. “No, I’m not…”

“If you look at yourself in the mirror, you would want to cocoon yourself, too.”

Peter scoffs. “Maybe you got too much dust in your eyes.”

Tony smirks and finishes the job. He orders some Ben & Jerry’s – four only for Peter. He wanted the Avengers flavors.

Peter eats silently. Tony sticks with him. The TV is their only conversation.

The kid might not show the same appetite as a mutant teenage boy’s, but he does look a little better. His cheek is dirty with a few chocolate chips.

Tony snorts, taking a napkin. “You baby.”

Peter protests. “Hey…”

Except neither of them stop the action, and Tony is pretty careful with it.

They gaze at each other with full attention.

Until Tony squeezes Peter’s cheek.

“Mr. Stark!!!” The latter yells. “I’m gonna get ice cream on you!”

Tony hasn’t laughed this much in quite a while. Turns out he needed to cheer up, too.

[seungkwansflower]

inspired by: unconditional by jaehyun <3

pairing: husband!s.coups x fem!reader

genre: pure fluff

wc: 349

a/n: uhhhh…this is my first fic EVER, so bear with me folks. i’m thinking of doing drabbles like these for all the members but idk yet. thank you to @injeolmibbingsuu for encouraging me ^^

~~~~~~~~~

Taking off the hair tie that held your ponytail for the tiring work day, you walk into your bedroom. Instead of finding any evidence of your husband’s return from work, a very suspicious bag is placed on your white linens. By “suspicious”, you mean a perky white and black Prada bag. You huff, hair tie thrown on your bed, your phone ringing your husband and slotted between your ear and shoulder. He answers on the second ring as you sit down to take off your heels, a gift given to you by your husband for your previous birthday.

“Choi Seungcheol.”

He lets out a sigh—he knows he’s in trouble now. “Yes, my lovely wife? My darling baby? My queen?” You can picture the face he’s making—as if he was performing aegyo for a fan.

“You know what you did,” you declare, firm and unrelenting.

“Hm, I don’t follow.”

Sighing, “I thought we agreed to start saving more? The vacation to Greece next year? Remember that, Seungcheol?”

You can tell from his voice that he’s pouting at your use of his full name, “Baby! C’mon, your mom and I were shopping today—“ 

Exclaiming in surprise, “You went out with my mom?”

“Yes, baby. We both were missing you, but that’s not the point.” 

You huff as he continues, “We saw this Prada bag and thought it would look great on you. It’s in your style and everything. You know I had to get it. Do you like it?”

You look up at the bag. It just so happens to be the bag you’ve had your eye on for a while now. A beat of silence among the two of you occurs before you reluctantly respond, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He laughs, “See? I told you so. Your Cheolie knows you well, huh? Stop being so cruel to me, love.”

You hum noncommittally, “Fine, but please, no more expensive purchases for me, I already have enough.”

Your husband lets out a chuckle, “Heh. Too late. Your mom and I found the cutest YSL shoes for you.” 

Exasperatedly, “Oh my gosh, Cheol.”

[stygiusfic]

early morning writing hack (real) (it's been working for about a month now):

think about the scene you're going to work on that morning not when you sit down to write, but the previous evening. this is daydreaming but with purpose. think about what might happen and how the characters feel about it. get excited. don't write a single word.

go about your evening normally, doing whatever else you do. your subconscious is a slow cooker and while you do other stuff, it's working on your idea for you.

get up early, like an hour before you'd need to start your day if you were cutting it close. everyone else in the world is snoozing their alarm, so no one can bother you rn. you're free! no one can judge your writing, not even you!

(optional i guess but it really helps me) unless the first few words of your scene are already clear in your mind, warm up. I've abandoned the idea of warm-up drabbles or whatever the hell people recommend. instead, I pull up a story by someone whose writing I love, and I type out a fragment of it in a blank doc, reading the words out loud as I go. this wakes up my writing brain as I become aware of how their prose and dialogue work their magic, when and where they reveal new information, how each detail leads to the next. I'd advise doing this with work that is of high quality and purposeful, so you can learn their tricks, but I'm not the boss of you.

write!!!!!!!

don't stop to judge if it's good or not!! it's too early for that shit!! if the draft sucks you can fix it later but you need the draft done first!!

do stop once yesterday evening's daydreaming prep has run out and you're out of steam. (sometimes the momentum can reveal the next part of the story you hadn't actively considered yet, but don't depend on it.) if you hit a wall where you have no idea how to continue, or it's still too vague to put words down, trying to push through will only bring frustration. and even if you do manage to write a bit more, the chances you'll end up scrapping it later because it doesn't fit are significant. just call it there, you're done.

take a minute to appreciate what you accomplished. you now have words you didn't have yesterday. you won the day, and meanwhile everyone else is still asleep, the absolute losers

if you use a word tracker, go ahead and input your word count for the day. maybe you got a lot done, or maybe you didn't; it's a victory either way. on mornings when I've been struggling, writing and then erasing and writing again, if I'm too pissed off to check the word count I just put down a symbolic number, like 50 words. it may not look like much, but when I look at the month's stats it feels good to have proof that I showed up and did the thing even when it was hard.

now you can start your day. and frankly at this point I don't give a shit how annoying my day is, because I already did the thing I care about getting done, so I'm not going through work resenting every task for stealing brain juice I could've used for writing in the evening. "I'll write when I'm done with work" is the ADHD hubris devil speaking.

and now it's the evening and you're free to daydream again!! and use absolutely zero brain power!! wheee!!

[emchante]

okay i was watching some old grill the grid videos & have u seen the one where daniel has no idea how to tie a tie??

imagine there’s a special event and he asks you to tie it for him 🫠😍 or you ask him to secure your necklace for you (those little acts of service are so hot to me)

this could absolutely work for divorced dad daniel, like imagine getting ready to go to a charity event for his kids school or something hehehehehehe

silk and stares | d. ricciardo

LIV!! i love that little clip, it lives rent free in my mind. this was originally a ramble but turned into a drabble. enjoy!!

part of the divorced dad!daniel series

warnings: post-divorce daniel, suggestive themes, age gap, unresolved sexual tension.

daniel was standing in front of the mirror in his modest bedroom, fingers fumbling uselessly with the silk tie around his neck. he let out a frustrated sigh, muttering something under his breath as he gave up and yanked the tie loose.

his kids school had a charity event running this evening, and of course he was going to attend. he had asked you to come over around an hour earlier, as an overseer as him and his kids got dressed up for the night.

now, you were leaning against the doorframe of the room, arms crossed as a smirk made its way onto your lips. “need some help there, mr. ricciardo?”

his gaze shot to yours through the mirror, his mouth quirking into a crooked grin. “i swear, i’m hopeless with these things. every time i think i have it figured out, and then..” he trails off, gesturing towards the tie that was hanging awkwardly around his neck.

pushing yourself off of the door, you step into the room and walk slowly towards him. the tension between you both was electric, unspoken, and only thickening as you got closer.

“you’d think a guy like you would’ve learned by now,” you tease, your tone light but a little suggestive as you approach him.

daniel chuckles, the deep timbre of it sends a small shiver through you. “guess i’ve always been better at taking things off than putting them on.”

the air grew heavier at his words, and you try to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. instead, you grab the tie and motion for him to turn towards you. “alright, let me fix this before you embarrass yourself in front of the PTA,” you tease, trying to move on from his previous comment. you didn’t want to, but.. you shouldn’t start anything you couldn’t finish quick enough. especially not before something important for his kids.

daniel complies, his hands placing themselves on your hips as you step close— too close. the smell of his cologne is warm and woody, something that makes it almost impossible to focus on the simple task at hand.

your fingers work deftly, slipping the silk fabric into a neat knot. as you loop it through, you couldn’t resist a little teasing. “you know, this really isn’t hard. you’ve been wearing ties for how long now?”

he huffs out a laugh, tilting his head to look down at you. “someone’s mouthy tonight, hm?” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow. when you continue to just smirk up at him, he starts talking again. “anyways, just.. not my strong suit. figured i’d just keep finding people like you to help me out.”

your lips quirk up as you tighten the knot and instead of stepping back, you pull him closer by the tie— forcing him to bend slightly toward you. his breath hitches, dark eyes locking on yours.

“you’re lucky i’m just such a good samaritan,” you tell him, voice dropping just slightly, enough to make it clear that your words carry a double meaning.

daniel swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. his voice comes out lower than usual, “yeah? you always this nice to struggling dads, or am i just someone special?”

you tilt your head, fingers still gripping his tie as you take your time straightening it against his chest. “you? special?” you tease, allowing the moment to stretch, your voice light and playful but your eyes betraying you— betraying the obvious chemistry thrumming between you two. “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

daniel smirks, his thumbs drawing small circles onto you as his other four fingers squeeze into your skin. “right. wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea,” he murmurs, voice tinged with something heavier, something that hung in the small space between you.

for a moment, neither of you move. the air feels thick with unspoken possibilities, his lips just mere inches away from yours as he stares down into you. you feel the heat radiating off him, his presence could only be described as magnetic, and you swore the only things holding you back were his kids downstairs, and the goddamn tie that was still in your hands.

finally, you step back and release the tie with a little pat to his chest. “there,” you say, your voice feigning nonchalance though your pulse was racing. you knew you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not daniel. but you still continued on. “now you won’t embarrass your kids. you’re welcome.”

daniel exhales slowly, a hint of his signature smirk returning to his lips. “guess i owe you one.”

you raise an eyebrow, already taking a few steps towards the door. “you owe me plenty, ricciardo. don’t you forget it.”

his laughter follows you out the room, but you don’t look back. if you had, you would’ve seen the way his gaze lingered on you, and just how tight his pants had become.

fuck.

⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? come chat to me through my ask box, publicly or on anon! i’d love to talk to you and hear your thoughts about it <3

[cloveroctobers]

MONOPOLY — Armando Aretas [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: I guess I’m remaining in my Armando writing bag but this was a request from: @dasaniswrlddd & this is mostly a Drabble small work that was also inspired by my boys who’s EP you should check the rest out after reading. It’s only fitting 😉 & you’re welcome!

S/N: the request included Armando dating an older woman, he’s twenty-eight so maybe the reader is thirty-eight? Forty’s? or as old as you are if you’re a older reader lol + mentions of a certain character from the film, “Rebel Ridge,” IYKYK 😉 + a little 🌶️ in there somewhere!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ¹³⁾ frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise + ²⁰⁾ rich vanilla perfume.

SYNOPSIS: Armando’s not as good at hiding his feelings for you.

<- read my previous September anthology prompt here.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

when Armando was informed that you got hurt out in Italy, he made it his mission to get on the next flight. AMMO was working on a case that would require them to fly out there by the end of the week so he just went earlier, despite the knowing look detective Mike sent his way.

He knows his son became fond of you quickly once they worked with your team, although Armando tried to hide it, it became obvious to Mike. Watching Armando analyze every move you made with admiration and how you commanded orders within your own team. When your team got involved that meant it was more than serious and Secada always made your team the last option if AMMO needed back up. Things tended to get reckless in the moment but you always made sure to clean up well.

Over the last few years you haven’t been getting your hands as dirty, something Armando overheard you sharing with Secada and Detective Lowrey, having your team do most of the work while you supervised but that didn’t mean you forgot everything that you’ve learned. Which is why you have a dagger jammed up right against Armando’s throat, bag of frozen peas dropped to both of your feet as you had Armando pressed up against the wall of the villa out in Collesano.

“Armando,” you stated, “did you really think it was the best idea to sneak up on me?”

He lowers his raised hands, “that wasn’t really my intent.”

“Find that hard to believe.”

“…so you don’t trust me now?” He questioned while peering at you underneath his eyelashes and brimmed hat.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

Armando exhales at this. He doesn’t take it personal since it was someone on your team that ended up being a rat in the first place. Setting you up to be killed while also murdering one of your members you were closest to in cold blood and the way the rest of your team was ambushed, was the ultimate betrayal so he understood where this was coming from.

“Then why am I not dead yet?” His low voice inquires.

You smirked as you lowered the dagger, “the night is still young.”

Armando can’t help but to roll his eyes as you step back from him but he can’t help but to reach forward and pinch your chin, turning your face to the side as he viewed the damage done to your face first. He feels his jaw tighten at the long scar that traveled from the bottom of your ear to the curve of your jaw. It was the beginning of the symbol of an Italian gang here, blade pulled just right to begin the markings of an, “X,” in cursive but they didn’t get to finish the job.

Yet this would scar in more ways than one.

“Be a doll and grab those peas for me?” Your attempt to bring Armando’s attention elsewhere was noted as his eyes flicked back to yours for a moment, silently telling you that he wanted details and he was going to get them from your mouth instead of Secada’s and Mike’s.

He lowers himself, eyes locked on yours still as he reaches for the frozen bag, “where?”

You take the peas and place them underneath your shirt, where Armando gets a peek of your ribcage wrapped in a white bandage. He exhaled at that, relieved that you actually went to the hospital to get checked out. He knew how much you dreaded those visits.

You’re leaning against the island for support, as you take most of the pressure from standing upright and shift to your right—where there’s no bruising on that side of your ribs. “So…what brings you to Collesano? Did you finally decide that you needed a change of scenery from Miami and Mexico City?”

Armando gives you a deadpan glance as he fires back, “I never would have pictured Italy as a place to live low for you. Tell me, when did you buy this property?”

You scoff, stiffly shifting to grab that hard liquor that’s waiting in the square glass for you. Throwing it back with clenched eyes you respond, “Maybe I’m borrowing it.”

“From who?” Armando crossed his arms, “Terry?” He almost spits out the man’s name, which makes you quirk up a brow.

You start, “I’m not…doing this with you tonight so if you came here to brood or whatever—I’m not here for it.”

Armando stepped to you then, “I came here to be with you, no bullshit. Got here as fast as I could. Something the other guy isn’t even here doing.”

Sighing you dip your head as Armando has his heated stare locked only on you, “…while I appreciate that…I can take care of myself, thank you. I’m grown.”

“That you are,” Armando unapologetically scans his eyes over your frame before settling comfortably back on your face, “but there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in from time to time.”

“You should take your own advice, Aretas.” You huffed, as you searched his eyes, making him blink his own stare away as he rubbed at his beard in annoyance.

He was aware of what you were getting at. You’ve been around to see his interactions with Detective Mike Lowrey, even worked with him and Marcus previously when you first got your team together. Mike was certainly a ladies man and was damn good at his job…a little sloppy at times but as well as you knew Mike, you genuinely believed if he knew about Armando, he would have made an effort to be there even if it was painfully awkward. That was a conversation that was just as old as Armando’s opinion on “the other guy,” you were legally married to.

That’s right, you were technically spoken for.

To keep it simple it was a MACP thing really and a story for a different time!

“Yeah well clearly the both of us have the patience.” He states, his gaze going back to the scar on your face, “I’ll be back.”

Sarcastically you say, “aw but you just got here!”

Armando snorts as he starts backing away, “don’t worry mami, I’m not goin’ too far but try not to miss me too much.”

He winks.

“Oh, Please.” You scoff, turning to pour yourself another shot.

When Armando returns, it really wasn’t that long as you just managed to sit yourself up at the high chair by the island counter. That was a a job within itself thanks to your bruised ribs and you knew you could have easily picked one of the many couches in this villa, preferably the two seat sofa that’s right by the open window next to the kitchen but of course you liked to be difficult.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel Armando’s hands dig into your tense shoulders from behind. He gets a light whiff of your vanilla perfume, it’s usually potent—rich—enough that it lingers in the air whenever you’re near. Right now it’s faint but it still makes him want to trail his nose up the slope of your neck.

“Hey,” he begins, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

Looking over your shoulder, the exhaustion has settled on your face and in that moment it almost shocks Armando that you don’t put up a fight. He holds onto your hand as you take your time getting down from the chair, a firm but gentle hold goes around your waist as he leads the way to the full bath he managed to find on the first level of the home.

The water is steaming and just what you needed. Armando was always onto you and knew the moment he caught sight of you tonight, he no problem providing. You manage to peel your clothes off and Armando’s concern is all over his face once he gets to see the black, blue, and purple bruises with your back turned to him. Those weren’t the only ones on your beautiful body but the ones on your ribs were the most upsetting.

He regains his composure, springing forward to help lower you into the water, head going right back against the pillow along the tub. Your eyes are closed and he almost coached you to sleep, running the pad of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. He was falling deep and he only had himself to blame if you ever broke his heart.

Part of him believes you won’t.

This has been going on long enough for Armando to have faith in whatever this was. Even when he was locked up, your connection never seemed to falter. Call him a fool but Armando was certain he’s never felt this kind of a way about anybody before you.

He’ll cater to you and sure you’ll give him a hard time, initially finding it all fun and dangerous games at first but that all shifted pretty quickly although in Armando’s mind, it felt like forever for you to admit your truth.

That you were feeling him more than you wanted to too. Which is why you allowed him to stay with you, help you bathe and briefly come to terms with what all transpired, even if you tried to block it out.

Even when you laid on top of him afterwards in one of the foreign bedrooms, he didn’t let go of you as you listened to the thud of his heartbeat and he took on the weight of you, all of it because he loved you—even if you didn’t want to hear him say it.

You felt it then and even more now that he came all this way for you.

The both of you wouldn’t be getting any sleep due to past traumas but that was left in the dark of the room. There’s buzzing that fills the heavy silence, you reach out clicking on the phone to silence it before flipping it back over.

“That could be important.” Armando mumbled.

‘Could be your husband,’ He thinks to himself.

You sniff, shifting to rest your chin onto the back of your hand, “Nothing else is important right now.”

“Yeah?” Armando quizzes, tucking his own chin to look at you, heart beating even harder now underneath your hands.

Wincing you lean forward, lips hovering over his, “Yeah.”

That was all the confirmation Armando needed as he moves to cradle your head and quickly places his lips right on yours. There’s a sigh of relief that escaped your lips as you both go into a battle trying to take the lead, which makes you laugh and a usual faint dimple appear on one side of Armando’s cheek. It’s when his tongue touches yours and he gets a nice grip on your ass with both hands that the humor fizzles away.

Armando’s attentive as you slowly take your place on top, hands gripping your hips against the silk night slip that you’re in now. “You sure you should be—

He starts but one move, has his hold digging into your hips, his head thrown back while biting down on his bottom lip. A laugh escapes your lips and Armando has to peek at you while he soaks in the real feel of you, your hair is a curtain around your face shape and the smirk on your face picks at his ego but he can’t complain and say he isn’t fond of this position.

“What was that?” You tease, “Don’t worry about me baby, I got you.”

Armando has to remind himself to breathe and you haven’t moved yet. His suddenly damp hands slip against the material of your nightwear, but he had to watch as he slides it back. That image alone makes a grunt spill from his lips and that’s enough to let you continue but Armando is always ready for your games.

When you separate just enough, he gains leverage himself, angling his own hips upwards while choosing to guide your hips downwards this time, erupting a pretty noise from your mouth. It’s his turn to smirk up at you, when you snap your attention back to his eyes while you fall over. Your elbows are beside his head now since sitting upright wouldn’t work at this time and especially with Armando’s own move he just pulled.

“Hi.” He smiles at you.

You scowl, “pendejo.”

That scowl releases when he places a lingering kiss right above where your new scar is. Gently he flips you both over and gazed at you so lovingly that some might say it was too much to bear.

It’s a pecking fight between your lips while Armando is on his knees but you can fight dirty when you want to and that gets him to move against you. Rocking you into the bed and loving you properly just like you knew he could.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[madame-fear]

would u do prompts 21 and/or 30 w Enzo pls?? i might die from cute but it'll be worth it

꒰ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 | 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄. ꒱

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request above. ♡ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 623.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : fluff, friends to lovers, drabble. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : enzo vogrincic x (fem!)reader ˗ˏˋ ꒰ prompts used : ⤿ 21. goofily smiling in your very first kiss. ⤿ 30. playfully wiping away their kiss, and getting tackled with more kisses by them.

You had no idea how you had gotten to this far with your “best friend”. To be fair, you had crushed on him for the longest times — but you wouldn’t have guessed that your feelings were reciprocated.

Enzo had invited you to spend some quality time together on his home, alone, as friends. But somehow, while you were quietly talking about the thoughts that randomly passed through your mind, at one moment you turned to face him. Both of you were dangerously close to each other, merely inches apart.

The vehement impulse of kissing him lingered on you, but you held back. Until, it was him the one who acted upon his feelings. Initially a bit reluctanctly, but managed to lovingly cup your face with his warm hands, and sweetly kiss you. Perhaps it might have been a surprise to you the very first few seconds you felt his lips against yours, but eventually, you happily gave in.

And there you were, delicately kissing each other’s lips in silence; your hands copied his previous actions, cupping his face as well. Meekly, you helplessly began to smile back at the feeling of a grin growing leisurely on his lips. Softly, you pulled apart from the kiss, but your hands remained cupping his cheek; the toothy grin on his lips was contagious, feeling a rosy haze creep upon your own expressions from the fluster. He was endearingly sweet, and even adorable.

“Your lips taste sweeter than I imagined,” he sheepishly admitted, continuing to grin dumbfounded at the fact that he had just kissed you, after fantasising about doing so for a very long time. You arched an eyebrow at his response, feeling a stinging, burning pain on your cheeks due to how you kept goofily smiling along him. “I didn’t know you had imagined this, En.” you teased, making him faintly scoff in response. “I did. And it wasn’t just once — I fantasised about this moment more times than you could imagine.”

Delicately, he leaned closer to you once again, pressing his lips on the corner of your own. Playfully, after that small smooch, feeling his coffee eyes lovingly admiring you, you wiped away the kiss he had just left on your skin with the back of your hand. “I didn’t know you were this sappy, either.” it was fun to see his reaction when you teased him, and it was hard for him to hold back his impulse of showering you with love when you playfully “rejected” his affection. In response, an even greater smile took over his face. “Did you just wipe away my kiss from your skin? You just broke my heart.” he feigned being hurt by your actions, making a quiet chuckle spur from your lips, rolling your eyes.

“I’m getting my revenge on you.” before being able to answer anything, his hands gripped your face more firmly — yet, still gently — as he pulled you closer to him. His lips made their way to filling every bit of your face: your forehead, your cheeks, cheekbones, the tip of your nose, your chin, jawline, and ocassionally pressed some smooches to your lips, as he held your face in place. His lips tackled your face with tons of small, yet adoring kisses. All the while, you squirmed and giggled under his playful smooches, flinching your face very slightly. The heat on your cheeks increased with every bit of affection he showered you in, feeling more free to express all the love he had wanted to give you.

You couldn’t complain. You adored him, and you loved being tackled by his kisses. Perhaps, you could tease him this way more often, if it meant to be showered in his kisses.

[gallawitchxx]

this week, the brilliant @ohkate is hosting a @galladrabbles prompt remix!

the mission: write a sequel to a previous galladrabble — but it can't be your own. choose someone else’s drabble that inspired you, stuck with you, or sparked an idea, and continue the story in your own way. just be sure to include a clear link or screenshot of the original so we know what you’re building on! and be sure to tag the original author for credit.

in december of 2023, @dynamic-power submitted the prompt "room for more" & @darlingian wrote simply stunning smut starring happy to please ian & full, stretched, & deliciously marked mickey! when i reblogged it at the time, i confessed to getting heated in the middle seat while on a flight & here's my guess at what might happen next...

- - - - -

Ian’s ring finger inches it’s way towards his others, and despite the snug pleasure of Mickey clamping down around him, he regrets using his right hand.

How delicious Mickey would sound, a whine escaping him as the symbol of their undying commitment left a stinging kiss on his most sensitive skin. How decadent it would feel for them both, to know it was inside of him. For Ian to watch for the flash of slippery silver thrusting in and out alongside his thick, pulsing cock.

Oh fuck, he’s close.

Ian’s pinkie presses against Mickey’s perineum, and laughing, shivering, they shatter.

[nocek]

I should be drawing something else but the muse struck and a continuation to previous comic (Mayday as superior Cupid shots Wade with the wiggly arrow on his forehead) happened.

And i guess I should have put a "gets better at speech bubble ergonomy" on my new years resolution. Sorry for that. Everything is in the image description. Which I guess means I'm getting to a point of almost writing drabbles of dialogue but drawing stuff instead of adding descriptions XD

[dani-moonstars]

Coworkers AU

Oh this was a great promt by @atthedugouts for @galladrabbles! It took me a little bit, but here it is. It's an AU within an AU I guess, since I decided to continue with my little series.

The last part can be found here, and there's links to the three previous ones there (but once again, it can be a stand-alone drabble).

Hope you enjoy!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mickey sips his morning coffee while he remembers last night’s dream.

Ian and Mickey as coworkers. The details are fuzzy, but it’s a menial office job. They flirt over the watercooler, make out in the supply closet on their breaks. They have passion and each other.

He drops back into reality. Ian broke his promise and never showed up, called or explained. He just disappeared.

Mickey silently thanks him for that mercy. A clean break, no more bullshit.

Once he gets to work, he sees a familiar figure near the door.

Fucking Lip.

Guess he’s not getting his clean break.

[wayfayrr]

I can't believe that I almost missed Sky's aniversary!!! happpy twelvth birthday to skyward sword! <3 I'd just like to say thank you to @yourlocaltreesimp for reblogging something that reminded me that today is the boys birthday - this peice is all because of them I wrote it in 40 mins so sky could have something for his bd before the date changes It's a continuation on my self aware sky fic with some headcanons and a small drabble under the cut about how the both of you celebrate his birthday <3

[masterlist]

✦ After about a month and a half of being with you, the both of you are quite used to living together. With Sky getting a grip on how to handle being a real flesh and blood person now - the both of you have even started on getting paperwork sorted for him to be recognised as a real person even if he’s never seen apart from your side

✦ The past few days though he’s had this energy around him, like a little kid excited for their - oh that's right, you’d almost forgotten the anniversary of his game was coming up. No wonder why he’d be so excited about it. 

✦ In the time it’s taken you to realise the date he’s taken his chance to be a little more clingy, you can blame nostalgia for him wanting to be closer. The feeling of the day he was created making him come to terms with just how lucky he was to be standing right next to you - his saviour lover. 

✦ If you were to do anything for him, say buy him gifts, treat him to an expensive meal, take him for a date, set aside the day for him or heck even spend the morning in bed cuddling with him? He’d fall for you all over just being flattered to the core over how much you care about him, if there was even a sliver of a chance of him loosing his possessive tendencies before that chance is shattered beyond repair now. You’re his and he’s never letting go.

✦ with how nostalgic he’s gotten, it’s not all that much of a surprise that he’s asked if he can play through the game on his own, with you sitting right next to him naturally 

“Are you sure about this Link? I mean I’ve not touched it since you well, since you crawled out. Who’s to say that he won’t figure it out as well?”

“It should be fine, what would be the odds of it happening twice? Besides if it does I’d bet he’ll feel the same way my dove.”

He’s not certain which is as clear as day, of course he doesn’t have a clue what could happen if he plays. What would happen if the version of himself he plays as hates him more than anything? If he gets jealous? If he tries to bring him back? Link hasn’t considered any of that, not that I can hold it against him. After that first day out of the game he’s mellowed out so much, it really was his desperation that made him terrifying - not that that doesn’t slip out every now and then of course. If he really wants to play? We’ll deal with the consequences of it together.

“If you’re really sure then love, want me to grab some snacks while you set up the switch?”

“I’d love that, thank you, darling.”

A soft kiss to my cheek is all that I need to become a blushing mess as he moves to turn everything on, including the new tv I had to buy after he shattered the old one, not too expensive but still more of a hassle than I wanted to have to deal with. Seeing as he’s never had any previous experience with any technology like this he’s picked it up like a natural, so in no time at all we’re back to sitting together on my couch to play. It’s nice like this, all gentle and domestic. If you didn’t know Link wasn’t originally a ‘real’ person you wouldn’t even be able to tell, he fits in like he was always supposed to be here with me. The clothes he’s nicked only adding onto that feeling of belonging like he’s just any other boyfriend stealing his partner's clothes. 

“Guess now is the moment of truth to whether or not I’ll be dealing with another nuisance stealing my heart then.”

“I wouldn’t let him take your heart, that belongs to me and only me.”

“Alright then, are you gonna make a save then my lovable anomaly or are you just gonna threaten someone you’re not sure even exists?”

“I’m making it my dearest player, I just had to make sure you were fully certain of where I stand.”

True to his word, he did make a save file - although he did name it something different than his own name - not before kissing me yet again though. Playing it with him was nice, seeing his reactions to his past where he didn’t have to get traumatised? It’s one of the sweetest things I've seen in a long while. It did seem I was right though, he didn’t manage to get to demise before we had a shocked link staring at the both of us like his world had been ripped apart. His reaction was so different to my link’s though.

He’s petrified. 

“Wh- What’s going on - who are you both – wh- wh-” … “And why do you look just like me?”

[hyper-fics-sationn]

Hear me out, I have an idea… 🫣

To write about a sleazy, emotionally constipated, older man having an affair is one of my favourite things to write about ever. Naturally, for that reason, Alan’s character, Harry, in Love Actually has always been my favourite character in the film. As I mentioned in a previous post, every now and again I get the STRONGEST urge to write some smutty drabble about Harry finally giving in and being unfaithful to his wife — (which I would like to reinstate I know as a collective that we all hate the fact that he breaks Emma Thompson’s heart, I just like writing sleazy smut😬🤣). I never expected anyone to even be interested in reading such a niche fanfic storyline, so I was pleasantly surprised to find out that some people would! Because of this, I have decided to create something that will consist of several one-shots that will all be under the main title name of ‘Bad Harry’, just like he signs his Christmas present… to his wife. 🫣 Each one-shot will just be a different take on how he and another original female character go about their little affair and the close calls they may have in the midst of it all – and will be under the picture above and hashtag of ‘Bad Harry’. It is set after Mia, so she may be mentioned in passing, but the name I have decided to give the original female character is ‘Arabella’. Each ‘chapter’ so to speak won’t necessarily follow on from one another, but the first one I publish will be the beginning of their affair. Like the film, it’s going to be set around Christmas, so I may not post this until later in the year… although, I’m currently a fair way into writing the first one-shot and it is getting rather hot 😮‍💨 I guess what I’m trying to gauge is whether anyone would be interested in reading this little ongoing thing? 👀

If anyone’s interested, I can also post a snippet of what I’ve written so far for ‘the beginning’ of their affair, or I can keep it a complete surprise…

If you would like to be tagged in each published one-shot, please let me know! Please also feel free to let your wildest Harry/Alan fantasies come to life and send me any requests for any situations you’d like me to write about between the two of them - make it as smutty, sneaky, reckless, or daring as you like! 🫶

Here’s a little reminder of the sleazy boss in action 🤭 thank you to whoever created these gifs, let me know if they’re yours! 😁♥️

(Also, please don’t think I won’t be continuing with my Snape one-shots and requests, they are still very much being written and open as the number one priority!)

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hey, I fucking LOVE your work and I was wondering… do you remember the fic of bbg keegan? The ‘(Don’t) go to war’? Is there a part 2? And if there isn’t, can we please get one?

Have good day, person who feeds me with their fics (yum)

—When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞

“You’re going to fall over, idiot,” you comment dryly to the man who struggles to walk across the room as he uses the wall as a crutch. Keegan and you were still recovering from the wounds of your previous mission—you with your shot shoulder and him his exploded side.

“Guess that means you can come over and help, huh?” Keegan grumbles, a glare meeting your raised brow.

“I wasn’t the one who decided to move around. I’m pretty comfortable over here if I do say so myself.”

“Gettin’ on my nerves again.” You smirk from the hospital’s reclining chair, head tilting. 

The man was trying to get his exercise in, for whatever reason, and he found the best option for that was walking laps. You weren’t about to fault his instinctual nature as a soldier, but the way he’d gotten out of bed in only a hospital gown and uttered to you that he was ‘sick and tired of doing nothing’ was something that even a chocolate bar couldn’t beat right now. 

Your smirk doesn’t leave. “I don’t know how you expected anything less, Russ.”

A scowl makes you snort. 

“Keegan,” you level, “just take a breather, would you? You’re going to aggravate your wound and I’m not sittin’ through you grunting about your pulled stitches.”

“Can’t sit here any longer,” he grumbles. “Gettin’ antsy, Sweetheart.”

Your body nearly shivers at that. Sweetheart—that was a new one. You sigh softly, frowning. 

All at once you stand and rub at the top of your sling, itching the strap before your feet pad over the tile to Keegan as his blue eyes shift over to yours. Your hand is leveled out in front of him, and after a moment he takes it, jaw clenched in the slight ache of his wound. 

“You’re making yourself look old.” You state casually. “It’s embarrassing to watch.”

A dead glare is all you get before your eyes roll. 

“C’mon, Old Timer, let’s get back to bed and I’ll call in your mashed potatoes for supper.”

“Stop it.”

“...What, do you want jello instead, I can ask for that no problem—” Lips are shoved to yours, severing the words from your mouth as you gasp; eyes fluttering wide before they fall back down like feathers. 

Keegan kisses you heavily, his nose puffing breaths onto your cheek before he once more pulls back and stares at you. 

“You need to know when to cut yourself off, Princes.” He smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.”

Your face is molten lava, and after a stuttering moment, you let him lean on you as you drag him back to bed. 

“You’re a pain in my ass, Keegan.”

“Likewise.”

[taste-thewaste]

tummy fic + a cat making biscuits? I feel like those two BELONG TOGETHER

i love this so much kayla!! you're right they do belong together big thanks to @bigassbowlingballhead and @basil-bird for the help brainstorming cat names ily

read on AO3 instead (I'm posting all these drabbles on there)

“Alex, did you feed Paul?” Henry asks from his lazy spot on the couch where he’s lying and watching Bake-Off. Alex looks up from the end of the couch, book in hand at their tiny gray kitten with ice blue eyes, who lets out a distressed yowl from where he’s sitting on the floor.  “No, but since I’m not the one who named him Paul…” Alex says, trailing off.  Henry leans over and scoops up the kitten, who squeaks up at his daddy, and holds him out to Alex. “Look at him. Look at his eyes. He is Paul Hollywood, darling. And watch!” Henry takes the kitten’s paw gently and shakes it with a look on his face that can only be described as glee. “A Hollywood handshake!”  Alex sighs and rolls his eyes fondly. “Fine. The cat looks like Paul Hollywood. I’ll go feed him.” He shoves Henry’s feet off of his lap and goes into the kitchen and pours some food into Paul’s bowl. Henry smiles as Paul jumps down and watches as Alex runs a hand down the cat’s back gently. “Eat up for Papa, gatito,” Alex says softly, and Henry melts. Alex hadn’t wanted to get a cat, but Henry had found Paul lonely and cold outside of the shelter and he’d fit into their lives almost seamlessly. David had even taken to him right away, so Alex couldn’t say no, and now he’s clearly fallen in love with him, too.  Henry feels his eyes growing heavy as he focuses back on the T.V., where it’s bread week and people are muddling their way through a complicated yeasted dough recipe. Alex sits down heavily in his previous spot and Henry replaces his feet in Alex’s lap. He watches as someone kneads a pile of dough and then chuckles. “Ha, look, baby, it’s you!” He reaches over and pinches Henry’s belly and then tickles him.  “Hey!” Henry yelps and wiggles away from Alex. “Someone made a truckload of pasta for dinner, that’s not my fault,” Henry says haughtily. He has gotten a touch thicker through the middle lately, but he doesn’t mind much and Alex positively loves it. He’s constantly poking and prodding and grinding up against him, so neither of them are complaining.  “Someone looks cute with a tummy full of pasta, what can I say,” Alex says with that wicked smile of his that drives Henry insane and a steadying hand on his belly. Alex kisses him gently and then goes back to his book. Henry stretches, his t-shirt riding up a little and exposing just a bit of his tummy. Then he sighs, closes his eyes.  Henry wakes up to the insistent feeling of something pressing on his belly and the accompanying jubilant laugh of his boyfriend. He opens his eyes and is met with those piercing blue eyes of Paul’s, and it takes Henry a moment to register what’s happening.  “I told you that your tummy looked like bread week, and Paul agrees with me,” Alex says as he continues to chuckle. “He’s making biscuits!” Paul’s sitting on Henry’s lap and his paws knead up and down on Henry’s belly and Henry can’t help but laugh.  “Well, I guess I can’t argue with this,” Henry says and he sighs happily.  “You’re right, I’m glad we got a cat,” Alex says with another chuckle, and they go back to watching T.V., reading a novel, and finishing up a shift at the biscuit factory.

send me a tummy prompt!

[f1-stuff]

harem...

I knew rissa would want that one asfdhfgsh (here's the previous snippet of this fic that I shared last year). And below the cut is another little 650-word drabble.

(Warnings for the sort of insensitive language you'd expect from royalty about a bed servant? I guess? 😅 As well as my limited Spanish knowledge - anything written in Spanish is meant to signify that Charles doesn't know what it means)

The prince trains often and hard, nearly every day of the week, practicing his swordsmanship with his cousin or his instructor, Rupert. Sometimes, even the king, though much more rarely. Charles always accompanies him to these training sessions, prepared with facecloths for him to wipe away perspiration and water to keep him cool. The prince sometimes thanks him, smiling in gratitude or, on rare occasions, adding a wink that inspires Charles to blush.

He often...overhears things. It’s a consequence of (almost) always being in the prince’s company, along with his curious nature not allowing him to shut off his ears. Especially not when Charles is the topic of conversation.

“Have you had a taste, then?” the prince’s cousin, Duke of ____, asks him one day. ‘Gusto’ - it’s the same word in Italian.

“Taste?” The prince asks.

“Of the boy?” 

Charles flushes, despite his best efforts, focusing harder on the ground at his feet to feign unawareness. It’s possible they aren’t referring to him...

“‘The boy’ can hear you, tío,” the prince says. So much for that theory.

“You are evading the question,” the duke says, and Charles can hear the teasing note in his voice, but doesn’t dare look up to confirm. “I don’t understand you, cousin. You are gifted a lovely creature like that, a bed servant trained for a king, and you consign him to the role of a glorified assistant.”

The prince doesn’t respond, but Charles can see him practicing his swings and stances from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t have to work hard to imagine the impatient frown on the prince’s face. He’s seen it enough times while he responds to tedious letters at his desk in the late hours of the night.

“Is it because he’s un gabacho?” the duke asks, and the prince only huffs in response.

Charles doesn’t know the word, but he’s heard it applied to him before. He wishes he could talk to Valeria, continue their Spanish lessons or even just spend time in each other’s company the way they used to. He misses her, perhaps his only true ally in this place. He’s convinced he has her to thank for the prince’s decision to reassign him. Otherwise, he might’ve ended up in the kitchens or stables, or worse, cast out of the palace completely, condemned to a life as a beggar or in a brothel, without any other skills to make a living.

“I’m not amused by this topic,” the prince says, his tone bored.

“I am,” the duke says, laughing. “Come now, cousin. Do you not agree that he’s at least pleasing to look at?”

“I’m bored of this, Caco. I’ve told you to leave it.” The prince’s voice is hard now, annoyance lacing his words. Charles glances up long enough to see the duke raise his hands in surrender.

“I’m only curious, cousin. But I’ll leave it. For now,” he adds, a smirk in his voice. But then his tone grows more serious. “But know that I am not the only one with such questions. If you continue to show indifference toward the boy, you might find others are tempted where you are not.”

“What does that mean?” the prince asks, in a dangerous tone.

“I think you know,” the duke says. “No one would dare insult you by laying a hand on a bed servant of the Crown Prince. But he’s not your bed servant, is he?” There’s a beat of silence that feels loud, heavy. Then, the duke continues, “A creature like that will not stay unsullied for long, cousin.”

Silence again, then the prince says, “I do not care where the tontos in this palace stick their pollas.”

“Your words say one thing, but your face says another, my friend.” The duke doesn’t give the prince a chance to respond, though. “Come on, cabrón. Let us cease talking and begin swinging.”

“Finally,” the prince says, but he sounds far less enthusiastic now than at the start of their session.

WIP Wednesday

[taegularities]

omg hi! I would like to sneakily sneak into your asks, I’m sorry about the previous ask you just received, it just seemed.. a bit harsh so I’d like to offer my perspective <3

Ive been a silent reader and I devoured your recent cmi chappie as soon as you uploaded it, and my heart was fluttering with the return of our favourite couple 🥹 not to say the smut was delicious :DD and taeun’s breakup 💔💔 but then jk being the beautiful soul he is giving oc complete reign over the choice of having children ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

cmi is my comfort fic, and honestly, that may be why? The notes were not as high as we’d anticipate? So many readers seek short, thrilling, pure smutty, or super angsty, or quick conflict-resolution drabbles. With cmi, it’s.. this whole world you’ve created, it’s comfortable, and I guess they’re the types of fics we really come back to when we seek an outer worldly escape, comfort.. and perhaps it’s the type of fic we really want to digest every word of, and not rush through, so it requires a time when we’re truly free from the chaos of the world, to give it our full attention. So maybe, compared to the other fast food fics people do just need to find the time to read and get lost in your fine dining meal <3:). (Peep the food analogy ahhgsgsg)

I just wanted to send you this ask to let you know that like me, I’m sure there are also many silent readers who love cmi, and I am sorry for not engaging with your beautiful stories, I know it can be disheartening to pour so much effort love and time into stories only to not receive any feedback and love in return. I will try to send these anonymous asks bcus I’m #shyaf but also busy with impending exams :( hahaha but this is my feedback for you: I loved the new cmi chappie, please continue writing, it’ll be such a shame to keep your beautiful stories to yourself 💜

you are so freaking nice 😭 so pls, feel free to pop in anytime, don’t be shy at all!! 🥹 i know, taeun hurts me more than i thought it would.. let’s see whether they figure things out or part ways for good :( so happy you liked this chapter 🤍

and hm, maybe? this could be a reassuring reason. i know the world’s fast paced and it’s not any different on here. it calms me to know that some of you have always considered cmi a comfort fic bc — and i‘ve said this before — that’s all i really want. for you all to love and remember it and feel warm while reading it. it’s lovely when ppl feel the same towards these characters as i do. the fine dining meal btw 😭 ilyvm <3

thank you for reaching out despite being a silent reader. you have no idea how much comfort your message provided, too <3 and it makes such a huge difference, just a single ask like this. so i hope that you, and everyone else, will feel comfortable reaching out as more fics come bc it builds a writer-reader relationship that i‘m so fond of 🤍

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Girls scout drabbles: Nina is distressed

Continuing with my tumblr fics with the Girl Scouts. In the previous one, I wrote about the girls getting lost in the woods. This one is more one conversation in a room.

Ámbar walked around the room, observing her troop members. Everyone was supposed to pack for their upcoming hike. It was going to be their first hike all on their own without an adult, and they all were very excited.

”Remember to bring water!” Ámbar said. ”If we don’t get lost again, we should find a fountain for refill, too.”

”What if I drink so much water that I have to pee?” Jim asked.

”Then hold it.”

”What if I can’t?”

Ámbar sighed. ”If it’s gonna be a problem, we’ll have a resting place where you can sneak out in the woods I guess. But a real scout has a trained bladder that can hold for long.”

”I’ll just not drink water…” Jim said.

Ámbar kept walking around, observing the others. Nina was quiet, as usual. But there was something in her face that Ámbar noticed. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and it looked like was trying to keep herself from crying. So, Ámbar went up to her.

”Nina… have you packed everything you should?”

”Yes. Water, a sandwhich, an umbrella and a raincoat just in case, a map, and some extra shoes if the terrain unexpectedly changes.”

Ok, she was more prepared than some of the others. So why did Nina look like she was experiencing immense stress?

”And it’s not… too heavy to carry everything?” Not that Ámbar thought that could be the reason, but she had to ask just in case.

”Not at all!”

Nina seemed to tell the truth. But Ámbar could tell there was something going on. Something that she wouldn’t tell… her whole body language just oozed it.

”Ámbar, Jazmin is packing all wrong!” Delfi complained.

Ámbar turned to them, and saw Jazmin trying to squeeze her packing all at once into her bag.

”Jazmin, you’re gonna break your water bottle if you pack like that…” Ámbar said. ”Let me…” She suddenly got reminded of Nina. Whatever was causing Nina stress was more interesting to her than whatever Jazmin had going on.

”Delfi, you help Jazmin. I need to tend to something.”

”But-”

”Now.”

Ámbar then turned back to Nina. ”You, come with me.”

Nina seemed to grow nervous. ”Why…?”

”I just… need to talk to you.”

They went into a room where no one could hear them.

”Nina… what is wrong?”

”Nothing! I’m excited for the hike!”

”Your voice, your facial expression, your whole body… it’s telling me there’s something going on.”

Nina looked down on the floor. ”It has nothing to do with the hike, I promise.”

”I’d like to know anyway. Are you in conflict with someone in the troop?”

Nina shook her head. ”No, everyone here is kind. Jim and Yam have even told me they’re really happy I’m here, because they’d probably get lost on the hike if I weren’t.”

Ámbar raised an eyebrow. ”Is something going on at home, then?”

Nina shook her head. Her parents had gone through a divorce just a year prior, but now it was for once pretty calm in her home life.

”You were pretty happy when you arrived earlier,” Ámbar recalled. ”Then around 10-15 minutes ago, your whole mood changed. Did something happen within the last 15 minutes?”

Nina didn’t say anything. She just stared at the ground.

”Nina, I can tell you’re upset about something. And as your troop leader I need to look out for people.”

Nina formed a smile, but then quickly removed it. ”I… don’t wanna talk about it.”

”Why not? I’m not gonna feel safe knowing one troop member is unhappy.”

”Because it’s… embarrassing. And I don’t want everyone to know.”

Ámbar formed a rather sympathetic smile. ”I’m no gossip girl. You don’t know how many secrets I keep.”

It was true. People thought they knew Ámbar, but really, no one really did. Not if they found out everything she knew…

”Promise me you won’t laugh or mock me?” Nina asked. She had those pleading puppy eyes that Ámbar always found adorable.

”I promise. And if I break that promise, then I’m no scout. We are loyal and honest with each other. So be honest with me now, scout.”

Nina went up to her, and leaned in so that she was sure only she could hear.

”I… went to the bathroom about 15 minutes ago… and… I…”

”What?”

”I… noticed that I… sort of… was… uh…”

”Just say it, Nina.”

”I got my period. My very first. I’m sure that’s what it was, because I have not gotten hurt to my knowledge.”

Ámbar raised both her eyebrows. ”O… Oh.”

”I know I should have expected it!” Nina said. ”I’m 12, I know it’s common to get it at this age, and yet… I packed for everything except for this. Sure, I knew I’d get it eventually, but I didn’t think that day would be today-”

”Nina. Calm down.” Ámbar grabbed her shoulders. ”It’s okay.”

”But I have nothing that can… stop it. I thought I’d just have to settle with toilet paper, but I think that has a risk of falling off while we hike, and then everyone will see-”

Ámbar hugged her. She usually did not hug people, and certainly never Nina, but it was the only way she knew to calm her down.

”You know, Nina… you’re lucky you at least know what it is. I had no idea when I got mine, and I did not understand why my godmother seemed to be happy about me bleeding on a chair. It was so confusing.”

”Well, I’ve read a lot of books… and my parents kind of don’t check me when I’m on the internet, so I’ve researched a lot of stuff regarding bodily autonomy… I was very prepared to get it, but apparently not so much that I thought of packing something in case it happened.”

”I’m gonna tell you a secret,” Ámbar said. ”Just last month, my period started while we were out in the woods and wouldn’t go home for another 2 hours. I spent all time hoping it wouldn’t run down my legs.”

”Really? I didn’t notice.”

”Good. But ever since then, I always have some protection packed with me. And I’m gonna give you one.”

”Really?”

”Duh? It would be pretty mean to just let you walk around with toilet paper for several hours, right?”

”Thank you so much, Ámbar! And… thank you for not mocking me that I got my first now… I’m probably the last out of everyone.”

Ámbar scoffed. ”No, you’re not.”

”I’m not?”

”I’m not gonna say how, but I keep track of who’s gotten it and who hasn’t. In this troop, you’re the… third.”

Nina frowned. ”So it’s… you and… one other person? Who?”

”Not saying names, but maybe the girl who yelled it across the whole girl’s bathroom in school when she got it.”

Nina cracked a smile. ”Yam… that was funny. She was the first one in our year, it was a big deal. For some reason, every time someone gets it, it’s a huge gossip.”

”I was the first in my year, too. I didn’t feel so cool as people treated me as… but it’s big now, because not everyone has gotten it yet. I’m sure in a few years we’ll even wonder what the big deal was.”

Nina chuckled. Then she formed a nervous smile. ”Uh, can I get that protection quickly? Before…”

”Oh. Of course.”

-

10 minutes later, they all went out for the hike.

”What did you and Nina talk about?” Jazmin asked.

”That’s private.”

”Come on! You can tell me! I won’t tell anyone else!”

”I scout promised to not let it leave the room.”

”And you can never break a scout promise…” Delfi sighed.

Jim and Yam were talking to Nina, just as eager to find out what she and Ámbar had talked about. Nina, now finding out she was far from the last to get it, decided to drop the bomb to them.

Jim and Yam gasped, causing Delfi and Jazmin to turn around suspiciously.

”But don’t tell anyone!” Nina told Jim and Yam.

”We promise!” Yam said, ”But oh my god! That’s…!” She did not know which word to use, but she was excited. Even though it was nothing that really should be that exciting, but they were 12, so any bodily change that happened with puberty just sparked curiosity and discussion.

”Aw, am I the only one who hasn’t gotten it now?” Jim asked. ”I’m probably the last one at the entire school…”

”I thought I was the last one too,” Nina said, ”But…” She leaned in. ”You didn’t hear this from me, but I might have heard only 3 people in this troop has gotten it.”

Jim lit up. ”Wait… so who are the three, then? You, Yam, and…?”

”And who’s… not the three?” Yam asked.

”Ugh, what I wish I knew what they’re talking about!” Jazmin sighed. ”Does everyone know but us?”

”You don’t need to know everything,” Ámbar said. She glanced at Nina, and smiled knowingly. Nina smiled back.

Ámbar had been right about how just a few years later, periods were nothing that groundbreaking to talk about. Though, even if Ámbar in her late teens seemed to not be the same as she was back in the scout days, Nina always recalled this day. Even if Ámbar seemed much crueler and colder towards everyone as soon as they started high school, Nina was always grateful she got that help and support that day. It made her always feel hope that the Ámbar that once was would one day return. She was in there, behind all the dark makeup and cruel words. She just needed to come out, one way or another.