before supper

The Types and Their Level of Scariness
  • <p> <b>INTJ:</b> At first they might seem worrisome because of their intense stare and nihilistic sentiments, but all it takes is one harsh critique about something important to them and they'll crumble. Their bark is infinitely worse than their bite. Will write a series of salty "blind item" blog entries about you for months. 6/10; too passive-aggressive to be truly scary.<p/><b>INFJ:</b> Hard to get to know, but when they like you, they REALLY like you and you'd better not do anything to break their trust because all of those warm, fuzzy feelings will 180 into pure end-times-level wrath. If you've ever encountered an angry INFJ, you've seen the face of the devil himself. 10/10; scary af<p/><b>ENTJ:</b> While they're capable of verbally disemboweling someone they dislike, they won't actually come after you unless they're bored and feel like starting drama for shits and giggles. Threw a punch once and didn't like it too much. Will tell you to go choke on a bag of dicks with the biggest, brightest smile on their face. 6/10; scary only in theory<p/><b>ENFJ:</b> They love you so, SO much and they want you to do your absolute BEST at EVERYTHING you EVER do like REALLY really, so when you don't meet their expectations, they will get more and more assertive about you achieving your dreams (read: their dreams) until they eventually snap and stab you to death in your sleep. 9/10; file a restraining order and you might be okay.<p/><b>INTP:</b> Too lazy to truly get mad about anything. The only really scary thing about INTPs is their complete disregard for cleanliness. You'll find Chinese takeout boxes from six months ago covered in maggots by their bed, but you won't find nary a discouraging word coming out of their mouths. Only does damage to living things in RPGs. 2/10; scary hygiene but harmless.<p/><b>INFP:</b> Is someone who spends a lot of time writing poetry, getting drunk and crying hysterically about things that happened ten years ago really that scary? I mean, they'll probably throw a whiskey glass or a vase in your general direction and curse you out for a solid ten minutes, but then they'll go right back to crying in fetal position. 4/10; just walk away, dude.<p/><b>ENTP:</b> They'll fuck with you just for the sake of having something to do that day. They'll fuck with you sometimes for no reason whatsoever. They fuck with people because it's just in their nature. Occasionally they'll take things too far and you'll wind up in the hospital but probably never in a morgue. Might send you flowers during your hospital stay. 8/10; scary neurotic<p/><b>ENFP:</b> They're either your best friend or your worst enemy and there is literally no in-between. Sometimes they'll get mad at you for reasons you don't even understand. Rarely ever will they try to physically harm you, though. They'll just whine about "fake people" in their DeviantART journal and mope about for a long time before randomly deciding you're their friend again. 4/10; Super confusing but not scary.<p/><b>ISTJ:</b> The embodiment of "walk softly and carry a big stick". Will sit outside of your bedroom window for days with a shotgun, ready for you to make a wrong move so they can blow you to smithereens. Don't try calling the police, because they're probably a police officer or at least connected to one in some way. In other words, you're fucked. 10/10; lawful evil personified.<p/><b>ISFJ:</b> They love you with all their hearts but they also hate the things you do, ie "love the sin, hate the sinner". Usually harmless, but some of them quickly lose their shit when double-crossed. Might mix poison in your sweet tea and then bury you underneath a bed of roses in the backyard. Prays for your certainly-damned soul every night before supper. 7/10, only scary when provoked.<p/><b>ESTJ:</b> Their big mouths and intense, confrontational attitudes can put the fear of God into you, but for an ESTJ to truly be scary, they'd have to physically harm you and they don't want to jeopardize their careers over something that foolish. Will judge you hardcore from afar but that's about it. 5/10; talks shit but you won't get hit.<p/><b>ESFJ:</b> They're the undisputed champions of guilt-trips, and they'll guilt-trip you over things so incessantly that you might suffer a loss of self-worth in the process, which could lead to severe depression and no will to live. Will attend your post-suicide funeral in a really expensive dress and tell mourners how you could have "really been something". 6/10; scary shady<p/><b>ISTP:</b> No chill towards people they dislike. They will straight-up brutalize your ass in one-on-one combat and you will lose. Will put you in the hospital, wait until you've been released, and THEN put you in a morgue. Probably will laugh about killing you over cold ones with the boys for decades to come. 10/10; cold-blooded killers.<p/><b>ISFP:</b> There is no such thing as a scary ISFP. They might get hurt with you but they just let that shit go after a while. More likely to channel their negative feelings into an artistic outlet than something destructive. No time for pettiness or holding grudges. 0/10; anti-scary saviors<p/><b>ESTP:</b> Also has no chill towards people they dislike, but their hair-brained schemes at revenge are often poorly executed. Will threaten to "beat your ass" for months but won't actually do it unless they're drunk or high. Once they do get physically aggressive towards you though, you are deader than dead. 7/10; flee town before things escalate.<p/><b>ESFP:</b> Often incorrigibly shallow, they'll start rumors to sully the reputation of their enemies before they'd actually consider getting their hands dirty. Rarely ever starts fights but they sure do love jumping into other peoples' fights and finishing them. Will get one of their besties to film the entire beat-down and put it on Snapchat. Hair and makeup somehow stays flawless the entire time. 3/10; more petty than scary.<p/></p>
1940 -- Chapter One

(banner credit: @tiostyles)

The beginning of a series where you fall in love with a soldier named Alex.

A Note From The Author: This is the first of many chapters for this Alex!AU. This chapter is simply setting the scenes for what is to come between y/n and Alex. Stay tuned for swing dancing, cheeky banter from Alex, and a few stolen kisses along the way. Let me know what you think! xxh

April, 1938
London, England 

The store sat empty, as it did most days of the week. Dust regularly collected on the cash register sitting in front of you and its brass keys grew stiff with the lack of activity. With your elbows propped up on the counter, you leaned your weight forward and held your chin in the hand that wasn’t busy drumming across the countertop. They tapped in time with the clock ticking on the wall, a constant reminder that you were stuck here on such a lovely day outside.

It was unusually warm for this time of year. Normally covered in a dreary layer of gray, the sidewalks and storefronts shone in the rare-April sunshine, people out and about, taking advantage of the weather. You were antsy as you watched out the window, hoping that someone, anyone, would walk through the door and give you something to talk about.

Keep reading

  • Kageyama: Hey, who wants to start a gang?
  • Lev: I’ll ask my mom.
  • Hinata: My mom wants to talk to your mom just to make sure it’s okay.
  • Yamaguchi: My mom said it’s okay as long as I’m back before supper.
  • Kindaichi: My mom volunteers to carpool.
  • Yachi: Can you pick me up my mom wants to see who is taking me.
  • Kunimi: My mom wants to know if it’s an overnight thing and who’s house we’re staying at.
  • Goshiki: My mom says she can do snacks for us.
Essays in Existentialism: Royalty

Two princesses who can’t be together but secretly love each other.

Inside the palace, the evening roared. The ballroom filled and ebbed as the doors were thrust open and the inhabitants flowed out into the garden. Like a chamber of the heart, it pulsated, keeping beat with the band that played while the platelet-like people in gowns and tuxedos all swirled about, dizzy on wine and champagne and the evening. 

Keep reading

petitmaitre-et-soncorbeau  asked:

Fluffy hannigram! Will saying I love you for the first time? (After realizing it - while watching Hanni being domestic?) Maybe he even says Aš tave myliu? :3

Takes place in some other world, just before their last supper in Mizumono…

“I love you,” said Will.

Hannibal was chopping carrots and his knife stilled midway through. It fell from his hand, still lodged near the leafy green end.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

Hannibal wiped his hands down the front of his apron and turned his gaze from Will. “I assure you, such cruelty is not necessary.”

Will breathed in deep and slow, gripping the edge of the counter. “I lied to you about Freddie Lounds.”

“I know. I would have suggested a less cloying perfume.”

Will’s heart didn’t race, though he wanted it to. That frantic, grounding thump against his ribs. “I won’t make excuses. I thought i was doing the right thing. And I was.”

Hannibal’s fingers played along the handle of his knife. He tugged the carrot from the end and stabbed the blade down into the cutting board. “And what am I to do with this now?”

“The lies? Or the fact that I love you?”

“Are they not one and the same?”

Will braved the trip around the counter, counting each step along the way. He stood before Hannibal, palms upturned, meeting his eyes in perfect honesty. “I want to leave with you. Now. It doesn’t matter where we go.”

Hannibal’s mask began to crack, tears threatening in the corners of his eyes. “You expect me to believe you won’t tell Jack Crawford where we go?”

One more step, and Will was close enough to reach out and touch Hannibal. A simple brush of fingers against the back of his hand. “Why would I do that?”

“Perhaps your cruelty knows no bounds. Perhaps this is the reckoning you were promised to.”

Will wrapped his fingers around Hannibal’s wrist, felt the blood pumping there. “Do you love me?”


“Then trust me, in spite of the lies. And I’ll trust you, in spite of…”

Hannibal took Will’s face in one steady hand. In the corner of Will’s eye, the knife glistened. How quickly Hannibal could reach for it. Instead, Will was being pulled forward until his lips met Hannibal’s. The kiss was sweet as the edge of a blade, aching for blood.

“After dinner,” Hannibal said, breaking the kiss, “there’s something I would like to show you.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Will smirked. Free, finally, of his burden.

“Trust me,” Hannibal said, punctuating his words with a kiss, “just as I trust you.”

[hannigram fluff therapy]


(drabble request from @festus14)

The first time Danny blew his ghost form to smithereens, Tucker was understandably terrified. The ghost fight had been progressing as normal (meaning Danny dishing out more bad puns and jokes than actual damage to his opponent) when there had been a huge blast of light and energy - and Danny had vanished. Although Tucker had canvassed the area all night, he found nothing more than spattered bits of ectoplasm and tiny flutters of black fabric.

It was just before dawn that Tucker finally came to the devastating conclusion that his friend was no more. He went home and laid on his bed, spending most of the day locked in his room staring at the ceiling, trying to decide how best to explain to the Fentons what had happened to their son.

Danny stumbled out of the portal, blinking and confused and mercifully whole, just before supper - solving Tucker’s dilemma. Both boys chalked it up to luck and decided to not think about it any more than absolutely necessary.

Keep reading

You Are What You Eat

I think most of us agree that the Strifesodos Soulmate fics from skyeec2​ were amazing. So at the risk of being a copycat, I’m doing some too…in random order…and scattered about. 

Ma always told him he was a picky eater. He’d move around his peaches on his plate but gobble up his grapes; scarf down his broccoli, but not touch his green beans. 

It was, of course, to Cloud’s misfortune that his soul mate was not. He got used to it over time, the bland and sometimes horrid taste of whatever that person put in their mouths and ate, but that never meant he liked it. His mother laughed at the face he made before lunches and suppers. He ate carefully…trying to mask whatever the poor soul on the other side was undoubtedly being forced to eat. 

But it became a game for him. What could he mix in to make it taste better? He learned his problem with peaches wasn’t the fruit, just the syrup that they came in the can with, and a little honey stopped him from gagging on them. The cheese their neighbor made from her goats set a good contrast to the dry, tasteless bread the other ate oh so often. 

His mother gave him the revelation though. Since he was forced to taste his soulmate’s diet…his soulmate also tasted his. 

Good, he thought, at least I’m easing their suffering. 

Leaving Nibelhiem was a tasteful adventure all on it’s own. He had intended to join the Military, but only got as far as Junon before someone noticed he had a gift with food. 

Cloud thought he was sharing part of his lunch with a down trodden stranger. Instead his rotten luck actually worked for once. The stranger owned restaurant. 

“You made this?” he said, eyeing the sandwich. Cloud nodded not knowing why turkey on rye was such a revelation…or maybe it was his homemade dressing… 

Cloud found himself in a kitchen in front of a very cranky looking chef who eyed him for a long while. He stumbled and fumbled his way around the kitchen, beet red the whole time. This was nothing like his Ma’s stove at home. 

But the look of surprise on the chef’s face when he took the first bite… 

“All right,” he said, “you got talent with food…just not with the tools.” And Cloud decided maybe Junon wasn’t so bad since he got a job…er apprenticeship really. 

And as Cloud got better and better at cooking, the meals from his soulmate somehow grew worse. 

“How can you even swallow this?” Cloud wondered out loud before trying to gargle the taste away. 

Cloud always loved the dinner rush, the chaos, the heat…and the fact that he could sneak little nibbles…mostly to check that it tasted the way he wanted it to. 


Cloud would swear up and down that he was used to his soulmate’s cursed palate and could handle how gross his diet was. He really thought he was used to it. 

Until he realized that the taste in his mouth wasn’t making him think about gagging. It was down-right delicious, it nearly made his mouth-water. 

He was so shocked about the change he almost missed the most important detail. 

It was the house special for tonight: Cloud’s signature Mac N’ Cheese specialty. He’d cooked this himself. 

“God Damn I’m good,” Cloud sighed before drifting out the kitchen doors. He waved over a waiter looking at everyone who ordered macaroni. They all looked pleased with it. He zeroed in on someone who looked positively transported. Cloud ducked back in, ignoring all of the stares from his fellow cooks, and stole a piece of cheesecake. And a fork. 

Strange green eyes blinked up at Cloud as he marched over, plate in hand. Silver bangs bobbed as his head turned. 

“Don’t ask,” Cloud said, “just eat it.” There was a long moment of tension…and Cloud realized this man was not eating alone. His friends were staring at him. Then he took up the fork and took a small piece of the cake. The flavor spread across Cloud’s tongue and understanding spread across the man’s face. 

“Thank god,” Cloud said, “I don’t know what the hell you’ve been eating…but no more. For the love of god, no more.” 

thus, with a kiss

bughead fanfiction - unbeta’d - period piece au - something different that fit my mood today xoxo


“We were nothing more
than star-crossed lovers,
tangled up in what could
have been.”
—Angela Marie Alfaro

She meets him on her eleventh birthday, her father’s Housekeeper, Geraldine, scolding him as he is caught stealing food from the kitchens. A stable boy, with scraggly hair and blue eyes she’s heard her sister read through thick texts of that would akin them to clear skies and rapid waters.

She hears his name is Forsythe, and her fingers curl around the thick wooden door to watch as his cheeks flush at the older woman’s stern voice. His stomach growls loudly, her own ears catching the rumbling from her hidden position at the doorway.

“Now, swab the floors in the barn at once before punishments are imposed on you, Forsythe.” Geraldine’s voice murmurs, her gray hair perched in a tight bun on her head. “If the job is done well, I shall save an extra roll of bread from my supper for you. Is this agreeable?”

“Yes, Miss Geraldine.” The boy with dirt covered cheeks replies, excitement in his tone at the prospect of more food being presented to him.

Keep reading

“They are helpless (Chatroom)”

Long time no see :) What could be better than Justice League? Yes! that’s right. Justice League and HAMILTON :D

Enjoy… or not

Y/N has created a chatroom

Y/N has invited Bruce, Clark, Diana, Barry

Y/N: Hey guys

Clark: Hey

Diana: Hey sweet

Barry:… what’s your name man?

Bruce: oh no, not again


Bruce: Don’t start guys

Barry: We already starded Brucie

Diana: I don’t understand…

Clark: Hamilton? really?

Y/N: I love Hamilton

Barry: We love Hamilton

Bruce: We realized, so please, don’t start

Hal has joined the chat

Hal: There’s one thing I still don’t understand

Barry: What?

Hal: If we are at the same place, why we keep talking on this chat?

Clark: good question

Arthur has joined the chat 

Arthur: Y/N turn down the fucking volume of your music please. It’s too loud, I’m trying to rest

Hal: Talking about rest, man I can’t remember the last time I slept, I’m tired af



Bruce: Oh Jordan….

Diana: Did you have to say that?

Hal: What they’re doing?

Clark: Hamilton

Hal: Oh, I see

Arthur: I don’t deserve this, please stop

Oliver has joined the chat

Oliver: Y/N and Barry, please, take a break

Oliver has left the chat



Barry: I’M ON MY WAY



Arthur: That’s it, I’m out

Arthur has left the chat

Diana has added J'onn

Diana: Make them stop, please

Oliver has joined the chat

Oliver: He can’t help them, they are helpless  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Oliver has left the chat


Bruce has left the chat



J'onn: Are they singing Hamilton?

Clark: Yes

Diana: Yes 

J'onn: I like Hamilton 


J'onn: Don’t worry, I won't 

Dinah has joined the chat

Dinah: Why Bruce kicked Ollie in his privite parts?

Hal: Your husband sucks sometimes Dinah

Clark: He deserved

Y/N: Poor Ollie, he did nothing but encourage our craziness 

Barry: Indeed

Diana: You think that’s nothing?

Zatanna has joined the chat

Zatanna: Why is the music so loud?

Barry: Because it’s Hamilton

Y/N: That’s right 

Oliver has joined the chat

Oliver: They’re not throwing away their shot

Oliver has left the chat



Y/N: He’s just like his country: young, scrappy and hungry

Dinah: now I see…

Clark: I’m done with that craziness

Clark has left the chat

J'onn: Can somoene ban Oliver from this chat?

Hal: If Bruce kicked him he’s lucky to be alive right now

Y/N:  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)   

Barry:  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)   

Hal: … Oh wait! I Just realized what I did

Y/N: Look around my friends, look around

Barry: Y/N remind me what we’re looking for

Y/N: Barry, I’m lookin’ for a mind at work

Zatanna: You’re not helping Jordan

Hal: My bad

Oliver has joined the chat

Dinah: Oh no Ollie

Oliver: I have a question

J'onn: Don’t say

Oliver: I just wanna know how does a bastard…





Dinah: C'mon Oliver

Oliver: Okay, one last question

J'onn: NO

Diana: No


Oliver: what’s your name man?



Oliver has left the chat

Zatanna: That’s it, I’m out

Zatanna has left the chat


Diana has left the chat

Hal: I wanna see this

Hal has left the chat

Dinah: things gonna get ugly

Dinah has left the chat

J'onn: So…

Barry: …


J'onn: ?



J'onn: Oh guys…


July @jilychallenge prompt fill

Partner: @chierafied <3 <3 <3

Prompt: I’m working the kissing booth at the summer fair and thank god you bought up my last half an hour of tickets, the guy with the dentures is next in line I’m not sure I could face it - you’re my hero

A/N: this required a lot more internet research than you’d think so A for effort to me hehe.  Related, the internet in general is (1) skeptical of whether kiss booths actually happen and (2) fairly certain they’re a health hazard.  There are message boards about this.  The internet is magical.

Also available on FF and Ao3!

Lily drops onto the bed with a dejected sigh, waits a few moments, and then amps up the dramatics, sighing louder and flopping again, so James’ quill stutters across the page. He grumbles, but his lips tick up at the corners, “Yes dear?”

“I have a problem.”

“You have many, many problems Evans,” Sirius’ drawl comes from behind his drawn bed curtains.

James flips him off and Lily kicks her foot until her shoe becomes a projectile and manages to beam Sirius in the head.

Despite Sirius’ creative swears and threats Lily remains unperturbed, tilting her head in James’ direction.  “So my problem.  Mum has this ladies’ fair.”

“And you need my assistance with the ladies-faire,” James guesses, wriggling his brows while he tickles her nose with the feathered end of his quill.  Lily snorts and bats his hand away, letting her other loafer fall to the floor with a dull thud. “She asked me to do a booth.”

Letting his textbook drop to the bedspread, James nudges Lily’s ribs with one socked foot.  “So you need a plan?  You’re good with paints.  Muggles love painting their faces.  Wizards love painting their faces.”

“I guess.  But that involves a lot of prep time.  And it’s not a guaranteed win,” Lily answers half heartedly, grabbing his prodding toes, “’sides, that will never beat Petunia’s tea cozies.”

Sirius is already halfway across the room by the time Lily even realizes his curtains are open.  “Is this about sibling rivalry?  I am now interested in your life, Evans.”

“What a guy,” James grumbles, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ neck and kissing his forehead wet and slobbery.

A low growl, and Sirius is swiping the spittle from his face, before he turns to Lily, “As I was saying.  I empathize with your plight –”

“I appreciate the gravity with which you are treating my situation.”

“So I will give you an idea,” Sirius pauses, grey eyes darting between his two audience members, “that will no doubt win your little familial war.”


Sirius shoves James off and lounges comfortably across the bed, feet nudging Lily’s knees. “Kiss.  Booth.”

Lily lets out a groan and James wastes no time in shoving Sirius from the bed with a decisive kick. And yet he is unperturbed, calling out from the floor, “Well I only suggest it because James gives you rave reviews, Evans.”

A flush rises on James face and Lily crawls toward him.  “Rave reviews?  Am I that great of a snog?”

One of Lily’s discarded shoes flies from the floor and clatters against the headboard. “Oi!  None of that while I’m here.”

“Well then stop telling Lily to be a lady of the evening,” James shoots back, kissing Lily lightly.

She snuggles close, legs tangling with James.’  “Technically, the fair is only from noon to four.”

By the time Sirius clambers onto the bed he’s already Padfoot, having decided at some point that it was cooler to join cuddles as a dog than as a human.  His dark head is pillowed on Lily’s belly when she starts, eyes wide.  “Sirius you’re a genius.”

He tilts his shaggy head as if to say ‘What else is new?’ while James frowns, brow quirked as he awaits an explanation that hopefully doesn’t involve Lily snogging strangers for money.  Her eyes glint with mischief as she runs her fingers through Sirius’ fur.  “Dog Kiss Booth.”

Keep reading

[Miraculous Ladybug]: Never Make Deals with Mermaids

a.k.a. Gabie’s Obligatory Mermaid/Pirate AU feat. Adrienette!

inspired bc i wanted a mermaid au where mermaids were badass, bloodthirsty, and had a certified license to kill. it was supposed to be a one-shot, but let’s ignore that bit for now.

i know that there are a million and one pirate/mermaid au’s but i’d appreciate some likes/reblogs/comments if you happen to read on! :) at the rate this is going, this is gonna be a beast of a fic. 

[Next: Chapter 2]

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Title: Never Make Deals with Mermaids

Summary: The only reason Adrien came up with such an elaborate trap for a mermaid was to sell her on the market, rake in some gold, and get a new ship to help him carry out some business. Simple as that.

The plan wasn’t for this mermaid to attack his crew, hold him at sword point, and steal his maps for some ridiculous mission involving magical stones, egomaniacal pirates, and a plot to stop the end of the world.

This beautifully dangerous creature was certainly going to be the end of him.

Chapter 1: Capturing a Mermaid

“Adrien, let me be the first to say that I still think this is a ridiculously stupid idea.”

Adrien pulled the flask out of his coat and pulled the cork out with his teeth. “Aw, come on, Nino. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“My sense of adventure is perfectly intact, thank you very much,” Nino frowned. “So is my sense of self preservation. This is a suicide mission, you idiot!”

“It’s only a suicide mission if I screw it up. And for your information, I’ve thought this out meticulously. It’ll work. Besides, I know you’re secretly hoping that we pull this off. You know how much we need the money.”

Nino sighed as Adrien shed his captain’s hat and his coat and draped them in Nino’s arms. “There are other ways to fund a journey to the Eastern Seas, you know. It doesn’t have to include chasing after a fairytale.”

“It’s not a fairytale,” Adrien insisted, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it over Nino’s head. “I’ve done my research. Went to a library and everything.”

“Yeah! You did research! Based on the drunken ramblings of past sailors! That hardly counts. You’re putting your life on the line for this.“

“You worry too much, buddy. I’ve got this under control.” Adrien turned around to the rest of his crew and held up the knife he kept strapped to his thigh. “Alright gentlemen, listen up! There are rumors of mermaids in this part of the sea, so we’ve got one chance to do this right.” He pointed the knife at Kim. “Are the nets ready?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

1940s au?

Dried dirt had turned to mud on his skin as it mixed with the sweat and swamp water he was drenched in, his uniform stuck heavy to his skin as he maneuvered his way through base camp, limping slightly.

World War II.

It was a scary time to be alive and an even scarier time to be part of the army, Jughead Jones would know, he’d been in the Armed Forces for two years. It was 1944 and the war was set in motion, things seemed to move exceptionally quick when you weren’t sure you’d make it through the night. He’d heard rumors that the people at home were calling this decade

“The world of tommorow.”

That never failed to make the dark haired soldier laugh, sure maybe for the people out there, the people who weren’t risking their lives everyday so housewives could buy new ovens and dresses. The world was a funny place.

“Hey! jug!”

Jughead turned slowly, a lazy smile crossing his face as his redheaded childhood best friend ran clumsily towards him.

“Where’ve you been pal? I sure was worried. You never know with those people, they’re snatching soldiers left and right.” Archie Andrews growled, a snarl gracing his all American face.

“Just scoping Arch, checking for traps.” Jughead was always turned on, not a moment went by when he wasn’t on guard. He was reliable and loyal to a fault.

“Oh.” Archie trailed off, nodding his head in understanding “well, you’ll never guess what happened over here!”

Jughead knew how much his best friend loved gossip, he was fairly certain he caught that trait from his woman at home, Veronica Lodge was a walking talking Life magazine.

“What’s up?”

Archie nudged his head, beckoning him to follow.

“Well at first I didn’t believe it, I mean I’ve heard about it ya know? In the letters. But then I saw it with my very own eyes. It was so crazy! A great old distraction, the boys have been real down ever since We lost Sergeant Blossom to that explosion last week,but this sure perked them up, I’ll tell ya!” Archie rambled, unaware of his best friend impatiently rolling his eyes from behind him.

“What is it Arch?” He interrupted.

They were in front of the tanks, huge machines that frightened even Jughead, they were preparing to use them, the way the generals spoke it seemed like it would be the final battle

“Yeah arch the tanks? They’ve been here for a while.”

Archie raised a finger to his lips and shook his head

“Under the tank” Archie whispered, his eyes nearly bulging.

Jughead glanced around and noticed a good deal of soldiers staring intently under the tank, suddenly someone slid out and nearly made Jughead drop his rifle.

She was like something he’d never seen before. Long blonde hair, pinned back on the side and left in barrel curls down her back, a bright red bandana was keeping the silky strands out of her bright green eyes, she was covered in oil and she was wearing a green jumpsuit, rolled up at the sleeves. Her tiny hands were clutching a wrench as she pulled herself off of the ground, she scanned her surroundings, her eyes going wide when she noticed all of the eyes trained on her, a rose petal pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

Almost as in a silent picture the blonde beauty’s eyes met Jugheads, she glanced around a moment before heading his way. He clutched the weapon at his hip nervously as she stood before him.

“Hello, my names Betty Cooper. I’m working on a few of the bigger machines, it seems that the only thing wrong with that big old tank over there is it’s treads, you get that all fixed and she’ll be good to go. I’m not sure if I should be telling you this or somebody else but you seem the friendliest.” She smiled softly, dimples poking through.

Jughead just stared blankly, it’d been a while since he’d been close to a women, let alone one as beautiful as the one in front of him.

Archie must have sensed his anxiety

“Well we’ll be sure to let our captain know. I’m Archie Andrews and this is Jughead Jones. You’ll have to forgive us all it’s just we ain’t never seen… a lady mechanic before.”

Betty grinned even brighter, something distinctly soft and feminine about this beautiful grease doll.

“Well you can’t say that anymore I guess! It’s nice to meet you boys. As much as I’d love to stay and talk, I’m pretty gross. I’ve gotta wash up before supper. See you in the mess hall?” She turned her eyes on Jughead and he nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Sure thing.” He croaked out, his voice unsteady.

Betty nodded firmly and headed off.

“You’re in trouble my friend.” Archie slapped his shoulder with a wide smile.

Oh yeah he was definitely in trouble.

The Bloodhound // Riverdale

Summary: Reader is a licensed private investigator for the family’s business upon graduating high school early. Having been sent to Riverdale to trail the high school music teacher Geraldine Grundy, Reader has to ensure her reason of being in Riverdale is secret especially with the sensitivity of the town. Hard to do when Jughead Jones calls her career the minute they converse.

Characters: Reader x unknown pairing, Jughead Jones Alice Cooper, Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews (mentioned), Geraldine Grundy (mentioned), Hal Cooper (mentioned), and Polly Cooper (mentioned).

Words: 1772

Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters.

Warnings: Swearing, rude!Betty Cooper, Grundy-Archie affair, and lying.

Author: Caitsy

Requested: No.

Tagging: At the bottom.

A/N: When Grundy explained why she changed her name…I called bullshit. That pervy cougar has more than an abusive ex and I know it. Especially with her cougar eyes looking at those teenagers before she fled.

Master List

Prompt List


Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

It was summer when you were walking around town while hiding from everyone, you worked for your dad. You didn’t live in the town but you were an extremely young private investigator. At seventeen you had gotten your license after graduating high school a year early and joined the family business. Getting off topic here but your Dad had sent you to Riverdale for one of his customers.

You had your normal phone along with possibly sixty burner phones hidden under a loose floorboard in your motel room. They were critical in your line of business if you didn’t want to be tracked by the police.

You were hiding behind a unkempt building that seemed to be ignored by the town of Riverdale. You watched at the pastel mint green classic Volkswagen beetle slowly moved passed a construction sight. Inside of the person of interest with sunglasses on hiding her disgusting teenage boy preying eyes while seductively biting a straw.

Keep reading


He watched as his wife slept soundly beside him. Gods….She’s beautiful, probably the most beautiful thing Jon had ever seen in all his life. Daenerys was breathing softly and Jon smiled, watching the rise and fall of her chest. He moved closer and traced his fingers down to her heavy breast to her nipple. He touched it and watched it pebbled and the droplets of milk formed. She was still nursing both his sons. Jon let a drop touched his finger and brought to his lips. It tasted strange unlike cow’s or goat’s milk, a bit sweet and watery.

He moved closer and nuzzled his nose on her neck, breathing in her scent. Jon couldn’t remember being this obsessed with anyone or anything before. Though Davos and Tyrion did joke that he was once too obsessed with mining dragonglass and the Army of the Dead to even desire the Queen in the past. A folly on his part for sure. Things are different now, and Jon was beginning to realise how much he needed his wife’s presence. A few hours away from her and his mood would start to sour. He would get all broody.

The only thing to brighten his mood was that he could see her after he had gone through the stresses of the day. Jon would go straight to his chambers where he knew Daenerys would wait for him, often lying on the chaise lounge, dressed in her furlined silk dresses. Jon always thought they weren’t warm enough but his wife liked the smooth fabric. He’d pull her in his arms and kissed her lips, feeling all better that she was there. Like a soothing balm to his tired, restless soul. Sometimes they would just talk and have supper before sleep, other times it would lead to more passionate encounters and perhaps both of them preferred the later.

His insomniac thoughts drifted away to his days in the Nights Watch, the vows he had taken. Wear no crown, father no children and take no wife. It didn’t matter anymore of course. Jon died when he was betrayed, stabbed by his own men. His Watch was over he had told Edd. Now with the Broken Wall, (though it was only breached at Eastwatch, the rest of the Wall was still in tact)as King, Jon had decided that The Nights Watch should not be disbanded after the Great War. Men were still needed to patrol the border just in case of any attacks made by anyone or anything, living or dead. And there needs to be a place to send hardened criminals away, where they could at least be put to good use.

Most of the surviving Wildlings whom Jon had let pass the Wall settled in the far reaches of The North. They mostly minded their own business, not bothering to assimilate and continued their way of life of hunting, fishing and trapping, and selling fur pelts in the market place. Tormund was still their leader and he agreed to bide by the terms set by Sansa Stark the Wardeness of the North. The Wildlings could settle in peace in Northern lands so long as they do not attack the Northerners and break any laws. So far there wasn’t any conflict between the two groups. Winter hadn’t shown any signs of receding into Spring and the King was worried for his people. They needed grains and firewood. Winterfell was already full with people seeking sanctuary from the harsh weather. Peace times proved to be just as challenging as times of war.

I should be there with my people. Then he remembered what Tyrion had said to him earlier. Jon is not just King in the North anymore but King of all the Seven Kingdoms. And that made him even more worrisome as he lied in bed next to his sleeping wife. Not one but seven kingdoms to rule. It is no wonder that Aerys went mad and Robert Baratheon drank himself to an early grave.

Jon sighed softly and let his head fall back on the pillow. There’s no use worrying when you can do something about it. Daenerys stirred in her sleep and moved closer, seeking his warmth. He enveloped her in his arms and pulled the furs to cover them both. He felt better that she was there with him.

“Together my Love,” Daenerys had said whenever Jon felt too overwhelmed. “We’ll go through it together…”

The Queen’s Curls

For @queen-of-the-merry-men who wanted Robin to see Regina’s natural curls for the first time. Happy belated birthday! ❤️ 

In the Missing Year, Regina shows Roland her curly hair | 2.3K unbeta-ed words

The Queen was brooding.

Not that this surprised Robin, he had rarely seen her with anything but a scowl plastered to her face from the moment he met her. But it was the way the Queen brooded, silent and alone, hunched in on herself as she sat in front of the roaring fire, which took Robin by surprise.

He had heard many a story about the great and terrible Evil Queen, about rage that levelled villages and a burning magic that could turn a man to dust. He had expected fire and venom from this great sorceress, this supposed monster of a woman. But she surprised him.

She was often cold, and detached, and was made of far less fire than Robin would have expected. She rarely spoke, especially on outings such as this one, camping with Snow White and the Prince along with Robin’s band of Merry Men, in the middle of the woods on a mission to gather intel on the Wicked Witch. Usually, the only time she opened her mouth was to throw a snarky comment laced with venom at anyone lucky enough to ruffle the royal feathers.

The rare exception to this rule was Robin’s son, who had a rapidly growing soft spot for her Majesty. She would offer him half smiles when he ran up to speak to her, listened intently whenever he regaled her with one of his never ending stories, nodding and, on good days, laughing quietly for only Roland to hear, and she had even started letting him sit on her lap during meals. It warmed a part of Robin’s heart, a part deep inside and long gone cold, seeing the Queen melt in the presence of his boy.

Robin had found that he was becoming increasingly better at reading the Queen, at knowing when her mood was rather colder than usual, when it was best to keep his distance as to not make matters worse, and he prided himself on knowing her so well – though he’d never admit it.

It was Roland that held the Queen’s attention now as she sat across from Robin perched on a damp log, arms wrapped around herself loosely. Something was bothering her, enough that even Roland’s dance around the camp’s fire couldn’t seem to smooth the crease between her brows or the narrowing of her eyes. If Robin could guess, he’d say that she wasn’t really watching Roland, and instead she let her eyes fall on him while her mind wandered. But to where, Robin wondered?

He hadn’t realized he was staring at the Queen until Little John cleared his throat from beside him loudly, snapping Robin out of his trace and handing him a steaming hot bowl of broth. The scent hit his nose then, rich with meat and a hint of spices that Robin couldn’t quite name, and his stomach rumbled.

Keep reading

“I’ve made everyone sad the past couple posts. I’mma do something funny!” And then I fucking THREW IN FEELS. Honestly I am sorry but I did want to explore Howard and Maria’s relationship a bit.

Maria walked into her husband’s office and was only slightly surprised that he was sprawled out on his fainting couch. Howard had always had a flair for the dramatic. She wasn’t quite sure why he was moaning about how terrible his life was though. It wasn’t like something bad had happened to him in the last three days.

“Dear,” she said.

“Maria, everything is terrible!” Howard moaned, rolling from side to side.

It took everything Maria had not to laugh in his face. “Why is everything terrible, dear?”

Howard jerked into a sitting position, appalled that she apparently hadn’t noticed. “Tony hasn’t called me ‘daddy’ in a month!”

Maria raised her eyebrow and clasped her hands behind her back so he couldn’t see her digging claws into her skin, to keep from giggling about how earnestly upset he was. “Oh.”

“He always called me ‘daddy!’” Howard continued, covering his face and moaning in frustration. “He’s only called me ‘dad’ for the last month! Do you know how many times that was?”

“Honey, I don’t kn–” Maria began.

“Eighty-three times!” Howard burst out, thrashing so hard that he fell off the couch with a yelp.

Maria did not snort, because she knew she would start laughing and never stop if she did, and then Howard would be extra upset.

Howard blinked up at the ceiling, then clambered to his feet, dusting himself off. “Eighty-three times he’s called me ‘dad’ instead of ‘daddy,’ Maria.”

“You kept count,” Maria said after a moment, surprised.

Howard frowned at her. “Well, yes, Maria, it’s a numbers thing, I’m a numbers man.”

“No, you’re right, honestly,” she said. “That’s on me.”

Eighty-three times, Maria!” Howard continued, throwing his hands up. “You don’t seem nearly as upset about this as you should be!”

Maria didn’t say ‘well yeah, he still calls me “mommy,”’ but only because it was quite possible that Howard might burst into tears.

“…Did I do something wrong?” Howard asked softly. “Did I make him stop loving me?”

“Honey, no,” Maria answered immediately. “There is nobody who loves their father more than Tony loves you. Sometimes boys just… stop calling their fathers ‘daddy’ as they get older. That’s not a reflection on you.

Howard frowned. “But… I’m his daddy.”

“Howard,” Maria sighed, reaching out to cup his cheeks and draw him into a kiss. “You’re always going to be his daddy. Just because Tony’s calling you something different doesn’t mean his feelings have changed. He still loves you the same as he did a month ago.”

“Why do things have to change?” Howard asked sadly. “Why can’t he be my sweet little boy forever?”

Maria pressed her face into his neck and hummed. “That’s just life, honey.”

“I know,” he sighed, then yelped. “Ooh! Did you just bite me?!”

Maria blinked, teeth digging into the skin of his throat. “…No.”

“Maria, you know you can’t bite me unless we have time for me to do something about it,” Howard scolded, giving her a fond pat on the butt before gently nudging her away. “I have to make some phone calls before supper.”

Maria groaned loudly, annoyed. “Why did you have to be a CEO? Why couldn’t I marry a regular guy?”

Howard pressed a quick kiss to her lips before moving back toward his desk. “A regular guy couldn’t buy Janet Van Dyne expensive fabric just to make his son a beautiful ballgown for the next Meeting.”

The werewolf couldn’t help a fond smile. “Tony’s going to love the dress, Howard.”

He scoffed. “It’s a gift from Janet, Maria, not from me.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Of course, Howard.”

“I think,” Maria said, then paused. “…I think you should call your father ‘daddy’ more often, bambino.”

Tony blinked up at her, gangly now, but still with bright, innocent eyes. “The boys at school make fun of me when I call him that.”

“Why in the hell,” Maria whispered to herself, another thing to wonder about why humans were the way they were. “Well, perhaps still refer to him as ‘dad’ while at school, but call him ‘daddy’ when you’re home? He misses it.”

“Okay,” Tony replied with that familiar guilelessness that she loved. “I can try.”

She wrapped him up in a hug that brought his feet off the ground, spinning him in a circle that had him giggling. “That’s my boy! Your father is a little odd, but we love him anyway, right?”

Tony laughed as she dug her fingers into his sides, kicking wildly with laughter. “Mom!”

“He’s a human and he’s strange even by their standards but he’s the most loving father and husband in the world!” Maria continued, swinging him around again.

“Yeah!” Tony agreed happily, then kicked again. “Mommy, put me down!”

Maria sighed, just a touch wistfully, as she set him on his feet. He still called her ‘mommy’ but it was definitely falling in frequency. She carefully brushed his hair out of his eyes, humming quietly and murmuring about a haircut, and ended up with her hand on top of his head, surprising herself with the thought ‘if we just had a little more time.’ Usually it was Howard being the sentimental one.

“My precious pup,” she murmured, cupping his cheek. “Do you know how much we love you?”

Tony tilted his head as he looked up at her. “Of course, Mom. You guys hug and kiss me and tell me you love me all the time. Did you know there are boys at school who don’t get hugs and kisses from their parents?”

Maria smiled sadly. “Oh, honey.”

“So I know how much you guys loves me,” the boy continued. “Do you guys know how much I love you?”

Maria squatted in front of him, cupping his cheeks again. “Honey, it’s never going to be as much as your daddy and I love you.”

Tony stuck his chin out stubbornly. “Well, I’m going to try!”

“Tesorino, that would be delightful,” Maria assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Mom!” Tony complained. “You always get lipstick on me when you do that!”

“Boys are making fun of him for calling me ‘daddy?!’” Howard burst out angrily. “I knew sending him to boarding school was a mistake!”

“Honey,” Maria said, trying to keep the laughter out of her voice.

“They’re ruining my precious boy!”

Maria covered her mouth to hide her smile. “I think boys would have made fun of him at a public school, too, dear.”

“Maria, I’ve been telling you this!” Howard threw his hands up. “We could home school him until he’s ready for college! And then we get a little apartment off campus to stay in while he’s there so we’d always be nearby–”

“Howard, I thought you wanted to stop people from bullying him. A boy that never leaves his parents’ home, Howard? Really?”

Howard sagged, sitting down on the edge of their bed and hanging his head. “My boy,” he said sadly. “I’m supposed to protect him.”

“You’re also supposed to let him grow up to become his own man,” Maria told him gently. “And with you as his father, he’s going to grow up to be a good man, too, Howard.”

Howard choked quietly and clutched his chest. “Maria,” he said, tears filling his eyes. “Why would you say something like that when you know I’m so weak?”

“You’re not weak,” she answered immediately. “I wouldn’t choose a weak mate. If anything, you’re too strong, and too damn responsible.” She ran her fingers through his hair as his shoulders began to shake. “Why does it surprise you so that I love my mate so dearly?”

“Sometimes,” Howard began, leaning his head on her shoulder. “Sometimes I worry. That I’m tricking you somehow. And I’m just screwing everything up.”

“You’re not,” Maria assured him. “You’re not tricking me and you’re not screwing everything up. You love Tony. And sometimes you forget about Tony long enough to remember you love me, too.”

“Maria,” Howard gasped, lifting his head to stare up at her. “I always love you. If I’ve done something–”

She snorted, pressing a finger to his lips. “Howard, nothing could give me greater pleasure than my mate loving our pup. I was just teasing.”

“I wish I could give you another one,” he admitted softly, eyes going sad. “Maria, if I’d had any idea what that radiation would do to me–”

Maria held her hand up to stop him. “I’m happy that we even got one pup, Howard. Tony is enough. You are enough. You were upfront with me about your possible fertility issues before you even proposed.” She smirked, leering at him. “And I can’t say the endeavor for a pup was unpleasant either.”

Howard choked on a slightly hysterical laugh. “Maria.

“We’re getting older, dear,” she added after he’d calmed down. “You, especially. Tony… Tony is always going to be enough for me.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And you will, too. Besides, we have Ana and Jarvis, and Peggy and her family. I come from a big pack where there were aunts and uncles and cousins. This… this is just like home.”

Howard frowned, reaching up to cup her cheeks and using his thumb to wipe away a tear she hadn’t noticed had fallen. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find more of your family, honey.”

“You found my Uncle Giuseppe and his family,” Maria answered quietly. “That was… honestly more than I ever hoped for.”

Howard nodded, dissatisfied. He was still looking, technically, had detectives searching Europe for Carbonells, but at this point he was pretty sure that they would only find graves, if they’d even been given that decency. He wished he’d taken better care, better safety precautions when he was younger, so he could have given Maria the big family she wanted and the siblings Tony would have adored.

But if Maria could be happy, after all that had happened to her, he’d stop wondering ‘what if’ and be happy, too.

Smoker - Request

Requested by @hannah-aureum: i just found the greatest picture of Tom felton (Draco) if you would ever write about hermione or the reader showing him muggle things to calm him down after the war 💞 (like cigarettes because he’s smoking in it lmao).

Hidden word courtesy of @lame-lozer: Fillet - A fleshy boneless piece of meat from near the loins or the ribs of an animal.

Pairing: Draco x reader/Hermione (I never mention her name so it can be both)

Word count: 1.814

Also, smoking!Draco and a very very very very discreet sexual innuendo.

A/N: I’m not sure I like this one, I feel like it’s too off character but you’ll be the judges. Also, I’m not good at being romantic.
Also, also, this was due for yesterday but I had trouble and it didn’t upload.


Originally posted by dramione-feltson-forever

The street was loud and crowded. The air smelled of fried food, dirt and smog, and the sky looked grey and the ambience was humid. The cars honked loudly, the traffic was chaotic and the few people on foot couldn’t help but to complain just as much.

“London could use a new government, look at this street! I’ve never seen anything dirtier!”

“I hate this weather! It isn’t raining, but it isn’t sunny either!”

“Don’t you hate cars? They are loud and look at how polluted everything is because of them!”

They would complain day and night, craving for a magical solution to their problems but refusing to believe in magic at all.

There was a blond man leaning against the wall of a coffee shop, chuckling at every word he heard. It was all a joke to him; those people had no idea what it was really like, and it seemed like they would never know it at all.

Keep reading

It’s in his kiss

A Drabble Games fic requested by @eclairer-le-ciel, featuring Kili

10: “You should’ve told me.”
11: “I can help you.” 

Based on “Imagine Kili teaching you how to kiss” from ImaginexHobbit.


You weren’t nearly finished moping when Kili strolled, cheerfully munching an apple, onto the terrace you had chosen as your hiding place.

“I was wondering where you’d disappeared to,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “Big day, eh? Are you excited?”

A closer look at your woeful face brought him up short.


He tossed the apple’s core out into the air to plummet, smaller and smaller, to the valley floor below before leaning on his elbows on the balustrade beside you.

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” he said encouragingly.

“Easy for you to say,” you lamented. “No one’s trying to marry you off.”

He snorted with laughter. “Please. You know my mother.”

“Fair enough,” you couldn’t help but chuckle, though you quickly sobered again. “Kili, what if I don’t like Durgrim?”

“Then you refuse the match,” he said matter-of-factly. “You know the choice is yours.”

“I know,” you fretted. “But it still feels like I’d be letting everyone down. His father is one of the greatest lords in the Iron Hills, after all.”

“So what?” Kili shrugged. “You’re the one who has to live with him for the next two hundred-odd years. Follow your heart and do what makes you happy.”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “And of course, it’s entirely possible that he might not like me, and all my worrying will have been for naught.”

“He’s a fool if he doesn’t,” Kili said loyally, and you nudged his shoulder with yours in affectionate thanks.

Keep reading

FP Jones teasing you, would include...

~ FP knows how you love your neck being kissed, so when you’re in the middle of a conversation he would start kissing your neck. 

~ “You know, I always loved a good ac-action- FP…” 

~ “Yes, baby?” 

~ “What are you doing?” 

~ “Nothing.” FP would continue on kissing your neck until he reached your sweet spot, making you moan. He immediately pulled away as soon as he heard your moan. 

~ “FP!” You whined and he would just chuckle before walking away

~ When you were at home, cooking supper. FP would come in and take your hips pulling you against him before grinding his hips into yours.

~ “Mmm FP.” You would moan before turning around in the embrace and pressing your lips to his. 

~ FP would lean down before grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up on the counter. He would continue to grind his hips into yours while your lips stayed connected. You were coming close your high when all of a sudden FP pulled away. 

~ “Oh babe, don’t let supper burn.” Before turning and walking away. You groaned before hopping down the counter and finishing cooking supper.

~ This time you were going to have an orgasm. You were not going to let FP tease you. You walked out in nothing but a matching bra and panty set. Walking over to the couch you put each of your legs on either side of him. 

~ “Oh God, baby. You know what you do to me?” FP said taking a hold of your hips. Leaning down you began to whisper into his ear.

~ “I want you to eat me out like it’s your last supper.” FP groaned before throwing me down onto the couch. Prepping kisses down my neck and then to my collar bones and so on. I moaned while FP smirked, kissing down my stomach. He hooked his fingers into the waist of my panties before beginning to haul them down. 

~ “Oh shit! Baby! The games on, we’ll finish this later!” FP said letting go of my panties and sitting up. 

~ “God dammit FP!” 

The Child and the Coyote - Malia Tate (part one)

word count: 2081
summary: nine year old y/n meets a friend in the woods while her father is out to work… and it’s quite a mystery to her how they click so well
warnings: dead family members (y/n’s mother passed when she was young)
*gif isn’t mine, credits to rightful owners*

You brought your plate with your sandwich sitting on it outside with you so that you can enjoy the scenery of the woods while you ate.

In the nine years since you’d been born, you’ve lived in a small cabin in the Beacon Hills Preserve.  Your father always told you that your mom had loved the hiking, and that she used to paint the beautiful setting.  So when she passed away, he didn’t want to leave the home that your family had built there.  You were young when she passed, about three years old, so you don’t remember much of her.  Just small memories that are painted in your dreams and when you daze off and your mind goes places you don’t mean for it to.

You looked over the outside, a morning light shining through the trees and casting different shadows and rays of light on the forest floor.  You loved having a non traditional yard, no bright green grass and sidewalk leading towards the front door, but a ground of matted down dirt and twigs and leaves that would fall from the trees on windy days.

After breathing in the smell of pine and something that could only be described as ‘outside’ you took your lunch and sat down at the wood picnic table your father had built before you were born.  You hadn’t seen his boots at the door this morning, so you figured he’d already gone into town for another day of work.  You felt sad for not having been awake to wish him goodbye, but he’d be home before supper to tell you all about his day.

Just as you’d sank your teeth into the delicious sandwich that you took such pride in making, you heard a rustling.  The eerily familiar sound of leaves crunching and sticks snapping as heavy feet fell on them towards you.  You set your lunch back onto it’s plate, your eyes trained on the open part of the woods where the sound had come from.

“Hello?” You called, trying to keep your voice as steady as you could.  Logically, you thought, it must be a hiker.  Hikers often came through here, and a few regulars that you and your father had made friendly with.  But this time felt different, you didn’t have your father’s protection in case it wasn’t a kind regular woods enthusiast.

But when the owner of the noise made itself present, you weren’t as terrified at all.  Especially since it wasn’t even a person.  No, it was a young looking coyote.  You smiled at the small and quite frankly, scraggly animal.

“Hello” You said again, but this time with a bright smile at the creature.  “Come here” You clicked your tongue a few times, turning with your plate and sandwich in your hands.  The coyote raised it’s nose, smelling your meal from afar.  You noticed this, and ripped the meal in half.  “You want some?” You said in a light tone, holding it out to it.  Upon the gesture it stepped backwards, taking nervous stature.  “I won’t hurt you” You prompted softly, then tossed the piece of food out towards it away from you, hoping it’d eat it.  It looked like it hadn’t eaten in days.

You giggled and smiled when it took a few hesitant steps forwards, and grabbed it quickly in it’s mouth, practically swallowing it whole.

“You want some more?” You asked, and held out the rest of the sandwich.  Something in you clicked that this animal needed the food much more than you did.  You could always make another sandwich, right?

This time, it came up to you, and carefully took it from your hand, it’s blue eyes not leaving yours as it slowly chewed and swallowed the food, as though savoring it.  You smiled at it, and held out your hand, palm open.  Something your father had once told you about dogs, to hold your hand out for them to sniff so they know you’re safe and mean no harm.

As you suspected, the coyote put it’s wet nose to your hand, and licked it upon taking in the scent of your sandwich.  You giggled, and rose your hand, slowly setting it on it’s head to pet it.  It’s ears went back, not in aggression, but in a slight fear.  Anxiousness as you slowly and gently pet it’s soft fur.  After a few strokes it nuzzled into you, setting it’s head on your lap.

“I’m gonna call you…. Blue” You said.  “Cause your eyes are blue.  Like the sky” You told it.  “Now, are you a boy coyote or-”

It growled at the assumption, and you jumped slightly before you laughed.

“So you’re a girl” You said cautiously, and it nodded it’s head.  You swore it nodded it’s head.  “Do you… do you understand what I’m saying?” You asked, voic quiet like you were sharing a secret.

Another nod.


Another nod.

“Do you… do you have a family? A mama somewhere? Are you lost?”

A small head shake.

“You don’t have a home?”

It looked into the woods, where it had appeared from, then back to you.  You didn’t know what to make of the answer, so you asked a different question.

“Where’s your family?”

A head shake again.

“You don’t have one?”

A head shake.

Your heart clenched and your eyes saddened upon realizing the young animal had no family.  You frowned, petting her softly again.

“I lost my mama too” You said quietly.

Suddenly she stepped away from your hands, and backed up towards the trees.  You wanted to call for her to come back, but you didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already seemed to be.  So you just waved your hand slightly in parting.

“Goodbye Blue” You said quietly, before she turned, and ran off through the woods.

You smiled to yourself as you went inside to make another lunch.  Certain that she would return.

Your father came home from work a few hours later, and he was surprised to find you in the kitchen, standing on the step stool as you stirred a pot of something that smelled too good to be made by a child in the fourth grade.

“Hey princess!” He called, baring as big a smile he could after a long day’s work.  You grinned as you looked over to him, a soup spoon in your hand.

“Hi daddy!” You responded.  “I’m making us dinner!” He chuckled, hanging his coat on a hook and placing his boots away from the door.

“I can smell it! Good cookin’?” You giggled again as he came into the kitchen to inspect what it was that you were making.

“Chicken noodle” You told him, offering him a spoonful to taste.  He gladly did, smacking his lips before ruffling your hair.

“Tastes wonderful y/n” He told you, and you smiled to yourself out of pride before going back to stirring the pot.  “You don’t have to constantly stir it dear, the flavor is well distributed” Your father said as he began to get down silverware and bowls to set the table.

“I know.  I just like stirring” You said, making him laugh at your adorable antics.

“Alright kiddo” He said, setting the tabletop neatly before taking a seat.  “You need any help?”

“Nope! I’ve mastered my chef skills” You said, making him chuckle again.

When you’d filled both of your bowls with the meal you’d conjured up, you fell into a conversation about his day.  Your father worked at a bait shop, selling everything from fishing gear to camping gear.  He tells you about the strange people who come in, as well as friends of your family that stop by to say hi.

You don’t really go into town that often, not that you weren’t aloud to, you did for schooling, but you prefer your home in the woods.  Something about it’s secluded area and quietness just appealed to you more than busy streets.  But some days you’d walk home from school instead of taking the bus, maybe stopping in a few shops just to look around and get a feel for city life.  

(Beacon Hills wasn’t New York City by any means, but to you, it was a city)

“So princess how was your day?” Your father asked, dipping a piece of his bread into his bowl before taking a bite.  You looked down to where you absently twirled the spoon around the soup bowl.  You were conflicted on whether or not you should tell him about the coyote friend you’d made earlier.  Mostly out of fear of him not believing you.

Or worse, wanting to hunt it.

No, he wasn’t the kind of man to go hunting for sport, or even for a meal on the table.  In fact he was more of a fishing guy.  But when he felt there were predators too close to your home, he’d do what he had to to protect it.

“The McCalls called earlier” You said, deciding against telling him about Blue, and instead about your friend Scott.

“Oh yeah? You planning to have your little boyfriend over sometime?” He asked light heartedly, but with a wink and a knowing smile.  You rolled your eyes.

“Daddy I don’t like Scott like that.  He’s just a friend” You told him, and he chuckled, knowing perfectly well that you and Scott were merely best friends.  He just liked to mess with you seeing that your best (and sadly, only) friend was of the opposite sex.

“And what did you and your friend talk about?” He asked, keeping up the banter, to which you huffed, crossing your arms in a sarcastic sort of way.

“Just school stuff.  He wanted to play cars tomorrow at recess because he got a new one from his dad today” Your father nodded, a small huff sound coming from him at your mentioning of Rafael McCall.

You and your father were very aware of the drunken habits of the man.  So you kept special tabs on Scott, just to make sure he was always okay and safe.

“Well if you want him to come over after school, I’ll be home before your day’s over” He said.  “And I could give him a ride home as well if he’d need it” You grinned excitedly.

“Can I call and ask him?” You asked, and he nodded.

“I’ll clean up in here” He said, and you jumped out of your seat to retrieve the phone from the living room.

But not before swiping the bread that you had tucked into your lap and hid for most of the meal.

You grabbed the phone and went outside, closing the door quietly behind you as you clicked the number 2 on the phone, speed dialing the McCall household.  Melissa picked up shortly after it rang.

“y/d/n?” She asked.

“Nope! It’s y/n” You replied, and the woman chuckled, seemingly in a tired fashion.

“What can I do for you sweetheart?” She asked, and you began looking around in the dark, holding out the bread roll in your hand.

“I was wondering if Scott could come over and play tomorrow after school?” You asked her.  “My dad said we can drive him home afterwards” You added.

“Of course! I’ll let him know I’m sure he’d love to” Melissa said, and you grinned excitedly.

“Okay, thank you Mrs McCall!” You said eagerly, before hanging up the phone.

You continued to look around, clicking your tongue and hoping to see Blue appear from the shadows.

And she did.

You happily tossed the bread out to her, about to approach her to pet her for a few minutes, when you heard your father calling for you.

“y/n? Did you go outside?” You wildly looked to the coyote.

“Go!” You whispered loudly, and she seemed to take the hint, taking the bread and running back into the trees like she had before.  “Yeah I’m out here dad!” You yelled back once she was out of sight, and safe.

The door opened, revealing your dad, and you went back indoors with him.  “Just enjoying the scenery” You said, setting the phone back on it’s stand in the living room.  He nodded, smiling at you.

“Your mother loved it too” He said, a sad sort of smile on his lips.  You smiled back at him, before heading upstairs to get ready for bed.

But all you could think of was your new friend.


xoxo ~ jordie