#finley who needs his own tag <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oh-obrien · 4 years

Text

Inscrutable {3}

Inscrutable: Impossible to Understand or Interpret

Masterlist

Relationships: Stiles Stilinski x Original Female Character

Word Count: 6,159 6,537

Warnings: Mentions of underaged drinking

Author’s Note: Part Three!!! Uhh some angst? Soft Stiles? I really like this part and I’m very excited for the next one!! Message me or send me an ask to be tagged!

THIS PART OF INSCRUTABLE HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH MORE CONTENT AND HAS ALSO BEEN EDITED MORE THROUGHLY!

Friday night rolled around, and Finley found herself bobbing her head along to the beat of her ‘Old Skool’ playlist, which was comprised of all the 80’s music her dad made them listen to growing up, while she Dutch braided her hair in the bathroom mirror. A knock came from the door that led into her suitemates’ room and she paused her music, “it’s open!” She called loud enough that they could hear her. Bailey, a midfielder for the lacrosse team, slipped into the bathroom, her makeup bag in her hand.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come tonight?” She asked while she pulled out her foundation and a makeup sponge. “It’s going to be an absolute blast! Beach party is one of the most looked forward to parties of the year!” Finley finished her left braid, made sure it looked okay in the mirror, and tied it off with a rubber band.

She looked over to Bailey who had just applied way too much foundation to her face, her neck and face were going to be two different colors but that was not any of Finley’s business. “I’m totally fine. I told you I have a project to work on for my Intro to Law class,” she reminded her suitemate.

Bailey pulled out her mascara and applied a heavy coat to her eyelashes. “Oh, right I forgot you mentioned that,” she fanned her hands in front of her eyes to help the mascara dry faster. Finley continued to section her hair for her right braid and carefully watched her hands work in the mirror. “With that boy, right?” Bailey asked.

“Stiles,” Finley reminded Bailey of his name and continued to tightly braid her hair, “he’s on the men’s club team actually.” She had just remembered they had the lacrosse connection, and she also knew that meant they would soon be seeing each other outside of their class and project meetings thanks to the mixed morning workouts the two teams had agreed to participate in.

“Oh right! We have a mixer with them two Saturdays from tomorrow.” Bailey told her. Finley hadn’t been much of the party type before she arrived at college. Mainly because she couldn’t get drunk, or even buzzed off of alcohol; a special strain of wolfsbane needed to be mixed in for her to feel anything other than sober at all. Being the designated driver had gotten old for both her and her brother very quickly. “Well, we have to call it a mixer,” Bailey pulled out white eye black and applied it to her nose, so it looked like sunscreen. “It’s a risky business party.”

Finley pulled her second rubber band off her wrist, “risky business?” She asked, slightly confused. “Like the movie?”

Bailey laughed after she finished coating her lips in ‘ruby red’ lipstick and smiled at herself in the mirror. “Yes! Like the movie!” She rolled her eyes and closed her make up bag. “It’s like you don’t know anything about college!” Finley rolled her own eyes in response before walking into the threshold of her room, grabbing the door handle with her hand.

“Have fun tonight, let me know if you’re going to be hungover in the morning. I’ll go out and get you and Kenna coffee,” Finley told her suitemate before closing her door that led to the bathroom. She was immediately enveloped in the warmth and comfort of her room, the orange scent from her diffuser relaxing her when she breathed in. The warm glow of the lights she had hanging along the top of her wall had her even more relaxed, some of the tension seeping out of her body. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, basking in the silence for the first time in nearly three weeks.

She had been working all summer before moving her brother in, traveling around the country, and to a few international locations with her dad. After an entire summer of traveling and trying to avoid getting killed, she wanted at least a few days to relax, but instead she had to move her brother and then herself into college. Taking a deep breath, Finley opened her eyes when she heard a knock on the bathroom door that led to her room.

“It’s open!” She groaned watching the handle twist before her other suitemate, Mckenna, walked in. She had on a pair of white, denim shorts, and a sunflower printed bikini top, a pair of sunglasses sitting on top of her head. “Please wear a coat or at least bring one,” Finley pinched the bridge of her nose.

Mckenna rolled her eyes and leaned on the frame of the door while Bailey pulled a pair of ‘lifeguard’ shorts over her red, ‘lifeguard’ one piece swimsuit. “It’s me you’re concerned about?” Mckenna laughed and motioned to Bailey who now had a hard lemonade can in her hand. “That’s her third, and it’s only seven.”

“I don’t want to be up early tomorrow because she’s throwing up,” Finley groaned and Mckenna stepped into her room closing the bathroom door behind her. Bailey and Mckenna thought that Finley was only a light sleeper, they didn’t know that when one of them was throwing up in the bathroom, Finley could both hear and smell everything.

“You say that like she won’t go home with a soccer or men’s player,” Mckenna laughed while she sat on top of one of the two desks in Finley’s room. “So, I wouldn’t be too worried about her waking up you or the boy you’re having over. Speaking of,” she swung her legs a little bit. “When’s he coming over?”

Finely looked at her watch, “ten minutes. If even,” she shrugged. “And he’s not staying over he has a girlfriend,” she added after the fact. She knew Stiles would most likely hang around as long as she let him, but she didn’t plan on trying anything with him. She didn’t know him well enough to pursue anything yet anyways.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mckenna waved her off while sliding off the desk. “We’ll be gone by eight at the latest, we’re going over to one of the senior’s apartments before heading over to the soccer house.” Mckenna opened the bathroom door and they both noticed that Bailey was trying, and failing, to braid her hair. “Let’s go Bails,” Mckenna threw a wink over her shoulder at Finley before leading Bailey back into their room, both doors separating the three closing behind the pair.

Finley let out a loud groan as she got up and locked the bathroom door from her side, making sure a drunk Bailey wouldn’t be able to barge in any time soon. She walked over to her dresser and untied her sweatpants, letting them fall to the floor while she dug around her in a drawer for a pair of shorts.

She couldn’t figure out why she felt so on edge, she wanted to rip someone’s head off and cry at the same time, a feeling she hadn’t felt since the last big blow up with her grandmother months prior. Sure, the full moon was that night, but she had been able to more than control herself for the event since she was six years old. That couldn’t be why her emotions were so volatile. She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, looking for when she was due for her next heat, and it wasn’t supposed to occur for another two months.

Stepping out of her sweats she pulled the black Nike pros up her legs and flattened the band across her stomach. Tucking the extra fabric from her long sleeve shirt into them before pulling a pair of cabin socks on her feet. Her room often got warm at night, even with the air on as cold as she could make it she would get too hot to wear sweatpants for more than a couple hours at a time. Walking over to her body length mirror she turned to the side and looked over herself for a few moments.

She had always been on both the taller and ‘curvier’ side, even when she had been younger. The body type ran in her family, even Cian was on the larger side of D1 quarterbacks. Since she had been running around the country, quite literally, most of the summer and began intense conditioning for lacrosse soon after, she had lost around fifteen pounds and started to gain more defined muscles. She wasn’t uncomfortable with how her body had been changing, but it had come as a shock when she weighed in at media day and noticed the drop in her weight. She did enjoy how her legs were becoming even more defined than they already were and her ass looked amazing.

She jumped when a knock sounded from her room door and walked over to open it. Stiles stood on the other side, his legs clad in a pair of maroon sweats that read ‘Beacon Hills Lacrosse’ and his top half covered in just a while tee shirt. “Hey!” She smiled opening the door wider so he could walk in.

“Hey,” he winced, in what looked like pain, while he dropped his backpack on her floor, “I am so sore.” He groaned, stretching his neck out. Finley watched as he bent down slowly to pull his water bottle out of his bag, holding his back while he did.

“Oh, right men’s started a couple days ago,” she laughed watching as he sat down on the edge of her bed. “We were watching you guys run suicides earlier between shotting drills,” she felt a smirk pull across her face when she saw Stiles look at her with his eyes narrowed. “Looked awful if you want my opinion, but I went through that at the beginning of the season, so I don’t feel bad per say. I just feel sympathetic.”

Finley considered taking some of his pain away, but she wasn’t sure how he would react if she did, or if he already knew about that aspect of being a werewolf. Instead, she pulled a chair over to her closet to stand on while she looked around her top shelf for her heating pad. She usually used it before her heats when she would start feeling the symptoms of it onsetting, but she also discovered it worked magic on humans when their muscles were tense or tight.

“Here, hang on,” Finley plugged it into her extension cord and turned it on to the high setting. “Sit back on the wall with this on your back.” She told him after handing him the heating pad. She watched Stiles give her an ‘I don’t believe you’ look while he settled himself against the wall, the heating pad on his lower back. She stood across the room, her arms crossed over her chest while she watched some of the tension wash out of his body, his shoulders dropping and his face relaxing.

Stiles opened his eyes to look at Finley, a smug smirk on her face. “It worked,” he smiled while he rested his head against the wall, still watching her. Finley walked across the room and sat down on her bed on the opposite send from stiles, her legs crossed while she unlocked her phone.

“I’m right sometimes,” she laughed while she pulled up a takeout menu. “So how does grilled cheese sound for dinner?” She held up the menu on her phone while Stiles turned his head to the side to watch her. That was when he noticed she had on glasses, he had never seen her wear them before. The frames complementing the shape of her face and their tortoiseshell print making her blue eyes pop.

“Grilled cheese?” He asked in slight amusement, “doesn’t sound much like take out, we could make that here if we wanted.” He spoke. Finley watched as his body relaxed even more and he sat up a little bit straighter, pulling his legs in so they crossed.

“It’s a place called GCDC and it’s a grilled cheese restaurant,” she handed him her phone that had the menu pulled up on it. “If nothing catches your eye, we can try somewhere else, but I am the one from around here y’know?” Watching Finley skeptically out of the corner of his eye Stiles took the menu and began looking it over.

A few minutes later Stiles handed her back her phone. “Okay so, maybe I was wrong,” he mumbled. “This place actually looks really good, and this heating pad is fucking magical,” he moved it further up his back. Finley noticed how much more his face had relaxed and smiled lightly, he looked cozy and warm. Mixed with the subtle scent of orange filling her room and the warm glow of her lights she found herself wanting to curl up next to him and take a nap. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Finley realized she would have to actually go see her dad in the morning and sit down and talk to him about her feelings, the last thing she wanted to do. However, she could not let her emotions get the best of her in this situation and understood that her dad tended to give good advice in the area of ‘werewolf dating and romance’, as much as she hated to admit it.

“Yeah, I know,” Finley mumbled not wanting to open her eyes and have to look at Stiles again, “and that was to both of your statements,” she added. “If you tell me what you want, I’ll call and order it,” Finley reached over to the desk that had been placed at the end of her bed and grabbed a post it and pencil.

Stiles reached out for her phone that still sat unlocked on her bed and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth while he scanned the menu again. “Would you recommend a grilled cheese or mac and cheese?” Stiles looked at Finley over the phone, his brows knit together trying to make the tough decision between the two.

“So how about this,” she bounced the pencil on her leg, “we each get a grilled cheese and then we can split a mac and cheese?” Finley suggested. “Because both are amazing and I’m actually pretty hungry tonight.” She shrugged, she had lost weight, she could eat a little more crap than she usually would. “So, four cheese mac and cheese,” she wrote it down.

Stiles looked back and forth between a couple options before settling on one. “And-” he dragged out the word while he tried to make up his mind. “I’ll get the Young American I guess,” he shrugged while he handed Finley’s phone back to her. “Which do you usually get?” He asked while she wrote his order down.

“I usually get the French Onion,” she also wrote down her order. “Uhh, I have soda and iced tea and shit in the fridge unless you want something else to drink.” She tried to think of what else they could possibly order from the restaurant. “Anything else you could think of that you would want from there?” Finley asked. Stiles shook his head, his hair that still looked slightly damp from his shower, flopping on his forehead. It was a cute look, especially with how relaxed he seemed, but Finley knew she needed to reign it in before she accidently said something she regretted. She had never been known to have the best brain to mouth filter and did not need it getting her in trouble with Stiles.

Stiles tried to settle more into the feeling of the heating pad relaxing the tense and sore muscles in his back while Finley finished writing down their orders. She set her pencil back down on her desk and held the post it between her teeth while she crawled off her bed, jumping down to the floor before padding over to her other desk.

Stiles knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t do it, but he found his eyes following her movements while she walked around her room. Her figure was illuminated by the warm glow of her lights and the two braids in her hair flowed down her back almost perfectly. He watched the muscles in her legs flex while she leaned up on her toes to put the post it of their orders up on the wall. The way her shorts fit left absolutely nothing to his imagination and Stiles found himself observing how they hugged her hips and ass perfectly.

Stiles rolled his back against the wall and tried to focus on something else while he listened to Finley call in their orders. He tried to will his mind to think about something other than walking up behind her and slipping his arms around her waist while she spoke, tracing his lips down the side of her neck. He tried to remember what Lydia’s lips felt like on his, what her arms around him felt like, but he just couldn’t. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose before letting it out slowly through his lips; he was with Lydia, he loved Lydia.

On Monday after he had spoken to Lydia, for far too long in his opinion, Stiles found himself on the phone with Scott on the verge of an anxiety attack. He loved Lydia, he truly did, but some pieces just weren’t fitting together right anymore. Scott had managed to talk Stiles off a ledge and told him that if he waited two weeks until he and Lydia were traveling to D.C. to see one of Stiles’ first lacrosse games, he would help Stiles decide if breaking up with Lydia would be the best decision for him. He had hung up his phone after the conversation and found himself flopping back into his bed with an over exaggerated sigh that had his roommate asking if he felt okay.

“Stiles?” He opened his eyes to see Finley standing in front of him, concern and confusion written on her face. “It’ll be here in like fifteen minutes, but are you sure you’re okay?” She asked.

Stiles sat up a little bit and groaned when he felt his muscles tense up again, a sickening crack traveling down his back when he stretched it out. “I’m okay just, I need to get used to it again,” he sighed. “I’m sure you’d understand it.” He laughed and moved the heating pad down lower again.

Finley bit her lip while she looked at Stiles, of course she didn’t fully understand it, her muscles would heal almost immediately after she strained them at practice. She could clearly see how the soreness had affected Stiles though, and she wanted to help but didn’t want to risk exposing herself. “We could have rescheduled y’know?” She asked him.

“I’m perfectly fine. I just needed a few minutes to sit down,” he waved her off before standing up and going to pick up his backpack. “I’ve been looking at the case stuff and I have a couple ideas on who the suspect is, but I think we need the rest of the case information he’s giving us Monday to finish it.”

Finley stopped him from bending down with a hand on his shoulder and offered a soft smile. “It’s good I was thinking the same thing because you need physical rest and I need a mental break,” she spoke. “We can look at it again at lunch on Monday, okay?” She pushed Stiles’ bag next to hers with her foot.

“Sounds good to me,” Stiles walked back over to her bed and pushed himself up on the mattress, settling the heating pad on his back again. Finley offered him a sympathetic smile before she grabbed her wallet and ID.

She slipped on her Crocs before grabbing the handle of the door. “I’m gonna go grab the food, you just don’t hurt yourself,” she laughed lightly. Stiles went to push off the mattress and she reached a hand out to stop him. “Didn’t I say to like, stay there?” She asked, cocking her head to the side, a playful smirk pulling at her lips.

“I need to-”

“It’s on me this time,” she waved him off when Stiles gave her a look that said he wanted to protest, and she opened her door and started to step outside before he could say anything else. “I said it’s on me,” she repeated.

Stiles leaned his head back against the wall and watched Finley leave, her door shutting quietly behind her. Being left alone in Finley’s room felt slightly wrong, and his curiosity had him eager to look around, but he wasn’t sure if it would be rude. He closed his eyes again, trying to focus on the warmth spreading throughout his body, but he got too curious to stay focused on the pain that spread throughout his body. Stiles opened his eyes and looked around the room, he noticed that the wall her window was on had been covered in pictures and slowly pushed himself off the bed with a groan.

Slowly he shuffled across her soft rug, not wanting to lift his legs too much and hurt himself even more and paused in front of the wall of photos. He quickly scanned over the wall and noticed that most of them seemed to feature Finley and her friends at various sports games or school dances, even sleepovers and vacations.

He realized he had quite a few similar photos hanging up in his room and smiled a little bit, he could be a normal teenager sometimes apparently. Between fighting the supernatural, trying to actually finish high school and making sure no on in his pack actually died, Stiles hadn’t had much time to be a ‘normal’ teenager the last few years. He had hoped he would change that at college and be able to let go a little bit, so far that had proved to be true, but he just hoped the trend would continue.

Stiles found himself looking past most of the pictures from lacrosse games or prom and his eyes settled on one that hung right next to the window on its molding. A little girl posed in front of a tiger cage in the pictures, a boy who looks quite similar next to her, they both had Mickey Mouse ears on, and their faces were painted to look like tigers. Behind the two kids stood a man who Stiles noticed in a number of other photos, Finley’s dad he assumed, and a woman who seemed to be almost a splitting image of Finley.

“That was our last family vacation,” Finley held a paper bag in her hand and closed her bedroom door. Stiles jumped when he heard her voice and gasped, putting a hand over his heart and groaning in pain. “Sorry,” Finley laughed and sat the food down on her desk along with her wallet and ID, “couldn’t help it. I wanted to see if you would actually jump.”

She walked over to where Stiles stood and ran her fingers over the picture, smiling sadly while she did. “That was two weeks before she passed actually,” Finley mumbled, “at the Animal Kingdom,” she pointed to another photo. Her and her brother, along with their father, stood in the same location for the photo and still wore Mickey ears, but they looked significantly older. “And that one is from when we were sixteen, there’s others somewhere on here.” She motioned around the wall. “We go the same week every year.”

Finley turned and walked back to her desk where the food sat. “Sorry I was snooping around,” he spoke while walking over towards her. He hadn’t meant to look creepy while looking at her photos, he just wanted to get to know her better and his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

“Oh, I don’t care,” she ripped the staples out of the paper bag with her nails and dumped them into the garbage bag. “I don’t really have anything to hide, and besides they’re hanging up so it’s just asking people to look at them. If I did have something to hide,” she slid the three containers out of the bag along with some plastic forks and napkins, “I wouldn’t leave it out in the open.”

Finley bit her lip while sitting down on the floor and opening her mini fridge, of course she had things to hide, but nothing in her room. “Uhh,” she bent down to look in the fridge, “alcohol or non-alcohol for the drink?” Just because Finley couldn’t get drunk off normal alcohol didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. Also knowing that his kids couldn’t feel the effects alcohol provided to others, Maxwell often had no problems with providing his kids drinks.

“You have alcohol in here?” Stiles asked in slight disbelief. Finley turned around and looked up at him, slightly shocked that had been his reaction.

“Yeah, and my suitemates have a shit ton more,” she laughed pushing a few bottles and cans around in the fridge. “So?” she asked Stiles waiting for an answer.

She saw stiles sit down in her desk chair next to where she sat on the floor. “I mean if you’re offering, I’ll take one of whatever you’re having,” he shrugged. Finley smirked and pulled out a can and handed it to him.

“I don’t know if you’re a fan of hard coffee like I am,” she pushed a few more bottles and cans around. “If not, I have a couple different beers and uhh- a few different hard lemonades.” She looked up to Stiles who had set her coffee can on the desk.

“Uhh I guess whatever beer you have then,” Finley sighed and pulled two bottles out, a Corona and a Bud Light, shaking both bottles slightly to tell Stiles to pick. “Corona,” he said firmly, and Finley smirked, holding the bottle out towards him.

She slid the other back into the fridge and pulled a magnetic bottle opener off the side of her fridge and handed it to him. “My dad and brother drink Corona,” she said, “I actually don’t like beer honestly.”

Finley watched Stiles open the bottle and he set the cap on her desk before putting the bottle opener back where it belonged. She handed him his grilled cheese and the container of mac and cheese, “go get comfortable again,” she nodded towards the bed, “I can tell you’re still in pain and I want to pick a movie to watch.”

Finley watched Stiles walk back towards the bed and set both containers down before pushing himself up on to the mattress, his brows furrowing in pain while he did. Maybe when he wasn’t paying attention she could try and take away at least a little bit of his pain. “What kind of movies do you have?” She heard Stiles ask while she pulled a chair over to her closet. She stepped on to the chair and pulled a blue, plastic bin off the top shelf, stepping down with it in her hands.

“Umm it’s a lot of old movies really,” she thumbed through the DVD boxes. “All the Jurassic Park movies, that are out at least, The Godfather movies, The Notebook,” she snorted while she flipped past it, “oh all the Star Wars ones, Harry Potter, Scooby-Doo!” She pulled out the last box and flipped it over seeing it contained many of the classic seasons in the box set. “It’s up to you though,” she walked over to the bed and placed the box down, “you’re the guest.”

She watched Stiles flip through the movies she had before he paused on Star Wars, “I mean,” he held the box up, “it’s my favorite movie.” She saw him look closely at the box, “but I’ve also seen it like a million times,” he mumbled to himself.

Finley crossed her arms over her chest, “like I said. You’re the guest. You want to watch Star Wars,” she shrugged, “we watch Star Wars.” The Star Wars series had also been one of her favorites growing up. Cian claimed when he had been younger that one day, he would be a Jedi, eventually that dream shifted to working in law enforcement though.

“Yeah,” Stiles slid the box back into the same place he had pulled it out from. “But you looked really excited when you saw this,” he pulled out the Scooby-Doo box. Finley bit her bottom lip while he held it out to her with a wide smile. “They’re detectives, I mean with my FBI experience, I’m half a detective. So, it should be enjoyable.” Finley let her bottom lip fall from between her teeth and smiled as she grabbed the box from Stiles, going to put the DVD into the player.

Stiles smiled and watched Finley while she walked over to where her television and DVD player were placed on top of her dresser. As much as he had wanted to watch Star Wars, he saw how happy she had been when she found the Scooby-Doo box and figured it was the least he could do, especially when she had gotten dinner and invited him to her room. He took a sip of the beer that he held while watching Finley bend down to plug in the DVD player.

He quickly averted his eyes from her ass as she bent down and focused on the thin layer of white foam that had settled on top of his beer. He had to wait to make a move until he had broken up with Lydia, he couldn’t cheat on her, even if he knew he would be breaking up with her two weeks later. Instead, he opted to pull his phone out and text Scott while Finley fiddled with the DVD player.

“Scotty Boy, I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” he typed out the first message and sent it. “You know that wolfy thing where at first you can’t control when you turn? Yeah, that’s my hormones right now.” Stiles watched Finley tuck the DVD remote into the waistband of her shorts, if they could even be called that, before she picked up her own grilled cheese and hard coffee can.

Stiles felt his phone vibrate next to him while Finley set her food and can down on the bed. She pulled the DVD remote out of her shorts along with her phone from the other side, which she also set down on the bed. He looked over when he saw the screen on her phone light up and noticed that a notification for ‘Full Moon’ had popped up on her screen.

“You have two weeks man, and you just met her, can you really feel that drawn to her?” Scott had replied to his message. Stiles let out a loud sigh and Finley turned to look at him while she climbed into her bed, sitting down on the end opposite from Stiles.

“Well, someone sounds upset,” she laughed picking up the DVD remote and pressing play. Stiles didn’t answer for a moment and instead pulled his grilled cheese box closer to himself, opening it up before looking over to Finley who was still watching him.

He looked into her eyes and shrugged, “just Scott being Scott,” he quickly made up an excuse, “he’s actually with my ex-girlfriend and it’s a whole long story,” that should be a good enough cover.

“Oh damn,” Finley bit into her grilled cheese. “I’m sorry that must be rough,” she finished her thought. Stiles shrugged and took a bite of his own grilled cheese before trying to think of a proper response.

He swallowed the food in his mouth before continuing to speak, “actually it happened like naturally I guess, I can’t really be mad about it,” Stiles shrugged. “Besides, then I started dating Lydia and just life had gotten crazy, so I didn’t really have the time to complain about it and by the time I did I had already gotten over it.” Stiles picked up his phone and flipped it over again.

“Isn’t there guy code?” Finley asked. “Like whatever girl code is?” Stiles leaned over the end of the bed to set his beer down on the dresser next to it.

He shrugged, he wasn’t quite sure about guy code, and he hadn’t had the most conventional high school years to speak on it. “I mean, I’m sure there is,” he replied, “but me and Scott never really worried about I guess, petty stuff like that.” He watched Finley nod before she turned to look at the television. “Good luck with the full moon, by the way,” he sent Scott.

“I don’t know much about girl code either,” she looked back to Stiles, “so I don’t even really know why I asked,” he watched her look down at her lap, like she wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure if she should.

Stiles sighed before trying to think of something to continue the topic with, hoping to make her more comfortable around him. “I can also tell you that Scott made out with my current girlfriend once, well she kissed him,” he took another bite of his grilled cheese. “Now that I think about it,” he swallowed his food, “we have some weird little incestuous pit going on,” he laughed lightly.

“The football players and lacrosse girls at my school were like that,” Finley turned to face Stiles better and crossed her legs. “I can like make a whole confusing web of who dated who, and who cheated on who with someone else, and who hooked up with whoever and then started dating but had previously dated someone else. It’s confusing really,” she took a long sip of her drink.

Stiles shoved the last bite of his first half of grilled cheese into his mouth, “how’d you fit into that web?” He asked around his mouth full of food, wiping his hands on one of the napkins.

Finley rolled her eyes while sighing, “do you really want to know?” She asked him.

“I mean-” Stiles shrugged with a small smile, “I’m intrigued now. This seems like an absolute mess.” He hadn’t realized Scott had texted him until his phone vibrated against his leg, and he flipped it over to see a string of texts from Scott. Stiles, however, chose to ignore it; flipping the ringer on his phone off so it wouldn’t vibrate anymore.

Turning his attention back to Finley he watched as she fiddled nervously with the can in her hands, pressing indents into it where her fingers sat. “Uhh, well for starters I guess I have never dated anyone, never hooked up with anyone, never anything romantic with anyone,” he watched as a blush came over her face, traveling down her neck and past the collar of her shirt.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Stiles mumbled, feeling slightly guilty. Here he was, talking about all the girls he’d been with, which isn’t many, but still. He didn’t want Finley’s lack of experience to make her feel bad about herself.

Finley shrugged while she wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. “I had been really interested in one of the guys in our friend group, he played on the line for the football team,” she let out a long sigh. “But then he started dating this other girl, they broke up, he asked me to prom-”

“Oh, so that’s good!” Stiles interrupted. Finley gave him a tiny smile, but he noticed how her lips dropped back down into half a frown.

“Yeah, but then on the night of prom,” she balanced the coffee can on her sock covered feet, avoiding eye contact with Stiles. “He wound up getting back with his ex and prom sucked,” she sighed. She looked up to see Stiles pulling at the napkin in his hands. “And I just made it awkward,” she mumbled.

Stiles’ head shot up at her words. “No!” He cleared his throat. “No, you didn’t! I just-” he tried to find the right words. “I just feel bad, you seem so, kind and genuine, and- and you deserve to be happy,” he offered her a sad smile in return.

“I’ll find it eventually,” she mumbled, picking at the crust of her grilled cheese. She smelled the sympathy coming off Stiles, and she hated it. He felt bad for her, he just felt bad for her, he wasn’t actually interested in her, someone like him couldn’t be. She was also a supernatural freak, she bit the inside of her bottom lip, who would want to deal with that. She knew Stiles had before, but he and his were-ex hadn’t worked out.

After that a silence fell between the two of them, Finley picking at her grilled cheese while Stiles finished his. “I’m not really hungry anymore,” she pushed the mac and cheese container closer to him, “you can have it.” She saw that Stiles wanted to say something, but he hesitated. Instead, he slid their containers out of the way and set them on the dresser with his beer along with the napkins and forks.

“You really do deserve to be happy,” he said quietly, moving closer to Finley. She continued to chew on the inside of her lip to avoid crying and let out a long stream of air through her nose. “I’m serious,” he added. Finley set her drink on the desk and looked over to Stiles, her cheek resting on her knees while she did. His whiskey-colored eyes softened and he sighed, moving ever closer.

Finley felt his warmth from where she sat and wanted to move closer, it was like his natural body temperature was trying to pull her even closer. That and his scent had mellowed out, it turned sweeter, relaxing even, like cinnamon and freshly dried clothes. “Like I said,” she let her lip fall from between her teeth, “eventually.”

Stiles reached out and Finley didn’t protest, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her into him. She immediately felt most of the tension seep out of her boy when he pulled her into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. With the tension leaving her body and Stiles’ warm scent wrapping around her she couldn’t control her emotions and felt a few tears slip out of her eyes, dripping off the tip of her nose. “Hey,” Stiles said quietly, “I promise eventually it’ll all work out.”

“It’s fine,” Finley sat up and wiped her eyes, “I just- I let my emotions get the best of me and I just, don’t usually do that,” she stumbled over her words. Stiles leaned back against the headboard of her bed before grabbing her by the shoulder again and pulling her into him. This was wrong, so, so, wrong, Finley thought to herself, but she gave in. Resting her head against his bicep Finley sighed and felt her eyes slip closed, she couldn’t fight it and wasn’t quite sure why.

“You’ll be happy soon,” she heard Stiles mumble, “I promise.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles x oc #werewolf ofc #human stiles #anna writes

34 notes · View notes

camiddletonxox · 4 years

Text

Eagerness & Gentility - Chapter 1 - Talking to Father

Synopsis - Lady Charity of Edgewater is the daughter of Earl Vincent and Countess Maria and is slowly learning her place as the heiress to the Edgewater. As she comes of age, her father wants her to explore life and consider courting. When she starts to court the broody Mr Sinclaire, the person she grew up with, the Earl and his mother hope the young heiress is on her way to finding a husband, but will they stand back or will they not be able to help themselves and meddle in her life? And will Ernest be the man Charity expects after a life of devotion and affection at her fathers hands? And what happens when people try to split them up? Can they make it through

Pairing - Ernest Sinclaire x MC - Charity Mills

Warning - General, no warning needed

Series Masterlist here, CHAPTER 1 YOU ARE HERE, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Summary - The Earl and his daughter have a heart to heart, before she goes to see a friend

Word Count - 1583

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

It was one of those beautiful sunny days at the Edgewater estate, the birds sang in a alluring melody, the flowers danced gracefully in the wind, and water of the lake sparkled in the sunlight.

Inside the manor, the Earl of Edgewater and his daughter, Viscountess Charity of Edgewater were sat, having a cup of tea, the young heiress was coming of age, well she was 19 in a matter of weeks, even if it her fathers eyes, she was still his little girl. The Earl had recently noticed the joy and lovesick look his daughter had on her face when Ernest Sinclaire, the son of the Master and Mistress of Ledford Park was around, it brought joy to his heart, thinking that his daughter may be in love.

“We have a dinner with the Sinclaires, Parsons, Holloways and Andersons tomorrow” The Earl commented as his daughter ate a bit of cake, and her eyes lit up slightly.

“I can’t wait to see Ernest” Viscountess Charity commented, making her fathers mouth twitch into a smile as he sipped on his tea.

“You like him, don’t you my dear?” Her father commented affectionately making the young girl blush, shaking her head at her father, he knew her far too well, didn’t he?

“He has always looked after me, father. Ever since I was a small girl, he was always there for me” She had a adoring gaze as she spoke about him.

“He is rather fond of you, my darling” Her father commented, and the young girl looked up, brushing a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, and she smiled, Ernest was quite fond of her, wasn’t he she thought to herself.

“I’m quite fond of him, father” She beamed and the Earl placed his hand on his daughters hand, and she looked at him.

“One day, if you ever wanted to court him, I would allow it” She looked up to her father, blushing crimson.

“Father!” She exclaimed, would she want to court her best friend? Is it really one of those things that the future Countess of Edgewater was ready for?

“My darling, you are soon going to be coming of age, and when you are ready, I will completely support you in finding someone who can love you the way I love your mother. You deserve to find a partner who will make you happy” The Earl’s words were gentle and loving, and she knew she had her fathers support and at this point in her life, that is all she felt she needed.

“But father, all the love I need I get from you, Mama and Grandmother” She comments and the sweet innocence his daughter had made him smile, she was the most precious possession her father had, he loved her and he never wanted the young girl to feel forced into anything, he was what they call modern in that way.

“I know my darling, but one day, it will be required for you to be married the way I married your mother, its your way to seal your future as the Countess of Edgewater, but please don’t think I am forcing this on you when your not ready” He paused as touched her cheek, running his thumb gently across her cheek. “When you are ready to take that step, my darling, me and your mother will support you” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, father” She whispers and she kissed his cheek.

“You are most welcome, my beautiful girl” The affectionate tone to her fathers voice always made her feel safe and at ease but he sensed something was bothering her and he sat next to her, and one hand rubbed her back.

“My darling, what’s the matter? Has our talk made you feel uncomfortable” He asked concerned and the young girl shook her head.

“No father, its just me and Felicity Holloway do not get on well, she is always making fun of me and saying someone like Ernest would never look at me, and always look down at me” Charity commented and the Earl rubbed his daughter back gently.

“I know she is rather difficult and obnoxious, my darling, but if she says anything out of line, just tell your grandmother or mother” The Earl comforts his daughter.

“Will you speak to them?” Charity asks and her father nods.

“Of course, my darling. I won’t have her making my own daughter feel uncomfortable in her own home” Her father assured and ran the back of his knuckle over her cheek and she smiled.

“Thank you, Father” She smiled and they sat in a comfortable silence before her father spoke up.

“You get on with the Parsons girls, don’t you?” He asks, with a knowing smile and Charity smiles and nods.

“Of course I do father, Annabelle, Cordelia, Constance are my friends” She beamed and he chuckled.

“You sure your not just saying that because Annabelle gave you a puppy?” Her father jokes and Charity beams.

“Of course not” she looks over to the pug who’s ears have perked up and he waddles over, barking lightly and Charity scoops the puppy in her arms, and she sits him on her lap, before she takes a sip of tea.

“Don’t let your mother, grandmother, Mrs Finley or Mrs Daly see you with Pugsly on the table, they will surely have a fit, if i know my wife, mother, our head of kitchen and your old governess well enough” The Earl chuckles.

“Father, Mrs Daly is more than just my old governess, she is Mamas friend and she is the mother of my own best friend” Charity chuckled as she scratched the pug behind his ears.

“That is very true” The Earl agreed and they finished their tea before the ‘bastard’ of the estate, Harry, walked in.

“Father, may I have a bit of your time?” The 13 year old asks.

“I’m going to have a walk around the gardens Father, maybe see if I can see Ernest over the fence” Charity excused herself, picking the pug up as she stood up before she kissed the Earl’s forehead.

“See you at dinner, my darling, if not before” The Earl uttered softly and the heir to the estate curtsied and she left the room, putting the pug down and she walked out the estate, Pugsly hot on her heels as she walked across to the point where Edgewater and Ledford Park met, Ernest was a handsome man, he had brown curls for his hair, piercing blue eyes and a heart of gold, her parents called Ernest her destined to be sweetheart because the two got on so well, and there was already a existing affection.

“Good afternoon, my lady” The Ledford master of horse called out and Ernest turned around, setting his eyes on the brown haired beauty, she had the most beautiful curls in her hair, the most alluring hazel eyes, the brightest smile that could put the sun to shame.

“Good afternoon, Mr Andrews, how are your wife and baby?” The Lady of Edgewater was polite to a fault, she was chatty and she always loved to converse with servants, she was humble, brought up to be humble and down to earth by her father.

“My wife is well, thank you, as is the lass, we named her Natasha” The man beamed.

“What a beautiful name for what can only be a beautiful babe” Charity commented making the master of horse to Ledford Park smile.

“Thank you, my lady. Your a credit to your father” He comments, before looking at Ernest with knowing eyes, “My lady, forgive me, but I must tend to the horses” He bowed his head, pulling the horse gently with him.

“Good day, Mr Sinclaire” Lady Charity beams and Ernest approaches her.

“Good afternoon, my lady. How has your day been?” Ernest asked, basking in the beautiful sight before him.

“It has been rather splendid, I had a horse ride with my brother this morning, then had lunch with my grandmother and then a tea with my father” The young Viscountess of Edgewater commented.

“My father, mother and I are coming across to Edgewater tomorrow evening, i am rather keen to hear you sing” Ernest conversed and Charity blushed.

“As are the Parsons, Andersons and the Holloways” Charity added.

“Ah yes, the Holloways” Ernest shuddered, for some reason, the daughter of the Viscount was rather, how do we say this, unbearable, anyone in their right mind knew Ernest couldn’t marry someone so arrogant and spoilt, and those dear to him knew he only had eyes for Vincent Foredale, Earl of Edgewater, daughter, for she was intriguing like a book, and there was something so endearing about her.

“And the Andersons and Parsons” Charity reminded him, the Andersons were new in the Sinclaire and Foredale social circle but their 4 children definitely were intriguing to the two families, whereas the Parsons were the most dearest friends of the Sinclaire’s and Foredales.

“I cannot wait for tomorrow night, it should be rather acceptable” Ernest commented, still looking at the beautiful young lady in-front of him.

“I shall be sure to dress to impress” Charity immediately regretted saying that but Ernest chuckled, she was really something.

“Till tomorrow night, my lady” Ernest kissed the back of her hand tenderly, making her heart swell and she curtsies before walking back into the estate, in a giddy manner, rather excited for tomorrow night.

Authors Note - Please message me or comment me if you want to be part of my tag list 💕

Tags - @ricapella @drakewalkerfantasy @ao719 @princess-geek @polishchoicesfan @binny1985 @desireepow-1986 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @hatescapsicum @itscassandral @gardeningourmet @heauxplesslydevoted @thequeenofcronuts

#choices stories you play #pixelberry #choices #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #desire and decorum #choices desire and decorum #choices mr sinclaire #desire and decorum mr sinclaire #d&d ernest #d&d fanfic #mr ernest sinclaire x mc #mr ernest sinclaire #ernest x mc

16 notes · View notes

toloveawarlord · 4 years

Text

Author Interview

Eeeek! I was tagged by @alloveroliver and @claire-maccarthy Thanks for the tag!

Name: My blog name is listed as Ruka, but my real name is Bekah so you can call me either. When I first made this blog, I wasn’t comfortable sharing my name online but now, I don’t mind.

Fandoms Now:

Ikemen Revolution, Ikemen Sengoku, Ikemen Vampire, Obey Me, Nightmare Harem, Several Shades of Sadism, Midnight Cinderella, Romance MD, Star Crossed Myth, Kings of Paradise, Scandal in the Spotlight, Kissed by the Baddest Bidder, My Wedding and Seven Rings. Probably a few more that I’ve got on my phone and log into once in a blue moon.

Want to do in the future:

Any of the Cybird games (they own my soul and wallet), So many voltage games I plan to start in the future, too many to name.

Where you post:

Mostly tumblr but I have an Ao3, Fanfiction and wattpad account (under the name moriartyswife)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

“And So They Met” which stars my little baby Alara at 6 years old coming to the mansion under bad circumstances and being adopted by Comte and the boys.

Favorite Story You Wrote:

Can I choose? As far as one shots go, Made a Made is by far a favorite of mine. Multi-chapter... how can I choose between my babies!? Personally, I love The Red Army Princess and The Black Army Mischief Maker. I have to name them both because there made as two sides of a coin, my first ikerev next gen. Eden and Finley will always have a special place in my heart.

Story You were Nervous to Post:

All of them I could probably say Telling Luka. It’s a mini series about Emery dating Luka and getting pregnant with Jonah’s baby. I was afraid of how it would come across. It seems to be pretty popular so that’s good.

How You Choose Your Titles:

It’s a roulette, I throw a dart and just go with it... Just kidding. I try to make all my titles have some meaning within the story. It might be a description of something that happens, or have something to do with the character themselves. Most of my titles tie in to the story. Sometimes with one shots, it’s just word association, but typically, I try to make them mean something.

Completed:

I have 141 One Shots completed.I do have other things for other fandoms posted on my other writing accounts, but for this blog, that’s all I have for now.

Incomplete:

I have posted 77 chapters of various multichapter fics. All of those and add in the amount of OC’s I have in the works which is over 100 (not including all the ikerev next gen babies). Plus, I have some one-shots and requests to fill so I have a lot coming up.

Do you outline:

Yes and no. Most of the time, I wing what I’m writing. I jot down ideas and things that might happen in the future of the story when they come to me. It’s less of an outline more like a pile of notes that I forget that I have until after I’ve written it. I do get ahead of myself when I’m writing, so I’ll grab a little piece of paper and write down some dialogue or scenes that come later in the chapter. And there are rare occasions were I’ll write out an entire chapter, but that’s very rare.

Coming Soon/ Not Yet Started:

I have 3 new Ikevamp Ocs coming in the next few weeks. Amelia Earhart, Mina Van Gogh, and Asha. I’m not sure what order they’ll come in, but they’ll be making their debut soon.

As for Ikerev, Atticus Kingsley is getting his story, which I’ve been nearly completed with for a few months now. Also, my witch Sage is going to be having her first chapter published.

Also there are some Voltage fics I want to publish. I have a romance md first chapter for Hosho’s daughter but I’m unsure if I’m going to post it. Some star crossed myth and Kings of Paradise are on the backburner but I want to post them as well.

AND OBEY ME! I’ve already made 12 ocs for the game and I have a few stories started. My little succubus is definitely my favorite.

Do you accept prompts?

Yes, but I rarely do them. Sometimes if I get in the mood, I’ll start working on them but I just have so many ocs and stories to work on that requests get forgotten about. That doesn’t mean I’ll never do them, it just means that it will take a while. I used to stress about requests a lot. Please feel free to send me a request as my box is always open but I don’t fill requests often. It’s a little hit or miss, because I switch between what I’m obsessively writing, so you kind of have to catch me with whatever I’m posting the most about at the time.

Upcoming Story You are Most Excited About:

Mina Van Gogh! I’ve worked super hard to make the story as accurate as possible, doing research. It’s a story more focused on platonic relationships at first, although she does have a suitor (Charles) but that is not in the foreground in the beginning of the story.

What do you use to edit?

A human being. I don’t do near as much editing on these fics as I do with my original writing. Unless something needs a major overhaul, I simply write what I want and check for mistakes before posting. If I’m looking for a word, I’ll google and search through the Thesaurus for a synonym. Nothing fancy here.

As for actual program that I write with, I used to exclusively use word. Now, I tend to use Tumblr and save the post as a draft. It’s super easy to access from anywhere and I can type on my phone if I want to. I’ve made the mistake more than once of tumblr glitching and eating my posts, so it’s not the most ideal situation..

Writing Set up:

Up until July of 2019, I exclusively sat at my desk. I get distracted very easily, so having a workspace that I only used for writing worked wonders for me. Now that I can’t sit for very long in hard chairs (thanks herniated discs), I usually sit in an arm chair with a little box to put my feet up on.

Most the time, I write with headphones in and listen to piano/instrumental music. Occasionally, I’ll pick one song that fits the story but I find myself singing along and getting distracted if there are words.

Do You Use a Beta Reader?

I have my best friend read over for any mistakes, so I guess, yes. Sometimes if she is busy, I’ll let Word read it out loud to check for missing words.

Where Do You Get Your Writing Inspiration?

From everything. Reading, other writing, tv/movies, real life. I’ve said before that a lot of the speech and actions of the children that I write are based on things I’ve witnessed while working for 10+ years with young children. Talking about the fics with friends also helps. They can help to figure out an ideas.

I would say that a lot of the time, it just comes to me. I’ll be writing something completely different and then an idea will come to mind about another character or story. Like poof, it’s there.

Can we get a quote from an upcoming WIP? Have a few!

Obey upcoming fic:

Verena knew how incredibly lucky she was to have his attention, his touch. Though he cared for all his incubus and succubus but never had he done this. Observing and critiquing, but not joining. “Lord Asmodeus, I-um-”

“No, no. All I want coming from these lips are those sweet, delicious sounds of pleasure.” Golden eyes were filled with delight. This was new, a succubus a completely blank canvas begging to be painted in his colors. Her mind lingered in a muddled state of uncertainty. “I’ve not used an ounce of my charm and yet you’re grinding your hips against mine, clinging to me tightly. You don’t want me to let you go.”

Her cheeks flushed red. It was like she had turned on autopilot, unable to stop her own body from wanting to drown in him. “Please…“

The word drenched in absolute urgency for more.

Ikemen Revolution New OC: Wren Blackwell

“Uncle Fenrir! Uncle Ray!” The ten year old’s voice echoed through the small building laced with surprise and joy. Abandoning his schoolwork for a chance to spend time with his two uncles. Amber eyes sparkled up at the two. Rarely did he get a visit from his family.

Fenrir beamed a grin at him, accepting the welcoming hug. “Reece, ya got taller!” He stopped by any time he came down to the ports, pitching in to help if Wren needed it.

Which meant today must be business. Never did Ray come by her work without warning. Placing down the files in their proper piles, Wren maneuvered through the chaos to emerge from the office. “Reece, you can go out for a break.” She didn’t want him to hear any military discussions, lest he want to join.

“Come on, I’ll buy ya a treat if it’s alright with your mom,” Fenrir offered to the eager boy, glancing to her for the okay.

It was like looking at two needy puppies. “That’s fine.” As Reece raced out the front door, Wren called to the ace with a serious tone. “No guns this time. I’ll kick your ass if you even think about it.”

She received a salute paired with wicked grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“This time?” Ray questioned, emerald eyes moving from the vacant doorway to his sister.

Ikemen Vampire New OC: Juniper Haywood

Juniper tugged at the door handle, heels digging into the plush carpet as she put all her strength into trying to open the door. It refused to budge. Locked? Unlikely. It must have something to do with why the door only appears at certain times. Now, she was surely stuck until the stars aligned again.

Here’s what she knew.

The hallway led to a mansion. How? Unclear. Why? Also unclear.

In hindsight, there was very little that she actually knew.

**********

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @rikumorimachisgirl @mythiica @emeraldtawny and anyone else who wants to do it! ^_^

#author interview #i write things #sometimes #ikemen revolution #ikerev #about me #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #obey me #other otome games

17 notes · View notes

rockinthebeastmode · 5 years

Text

Night Shift

A/N: I planned on making this first part longer but decided to cut it here as a nice lil intro. Things ramp up a bit in the next one (well a lot actually) but I offer this as a taste before the real shit starts 😏😁 Hope you enjoy and lemme know whatcha think--I’m curious of any theories yall can come up with before I blow them all outta the water 😂 *this gets a bit dark, mentions of self-harm etc so viewer discretion and all that jazz

You can find the rest of my fics here.

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus@lilaviolet @laurielau @hey1tskat1e@tinakegg@kneekeyta@likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger@crystalgiddings1993 @milllott@milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win@ifinallyknow@isthistherightwayround@believethaticanandiwill @my-mad-fatuation

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Night Shift

Rae leant forward onto the counter and stifled a yawn, frowning as she glanced at the clock.

4:03am...Fucking hell.

Normally, she’d be in a snakebite induced slumber, completely dead to the world. Being conscious at this hour was like a living nightmare.

She was used to working days--thrived on them, really. Day shift was easy. It was busy and like Hell on earth sometimes but no one noticed her disappearances to the backroom throughout her shift. She’d mastered the sneak away, quick sip and a mint and everyone was none the wiser.

We all have our vices.

This was the first night of many for her, at least for the next several weeks. The night shift manager went into labor and Rae was the only one available (and desperate) for the job.

She’d initially thought it’d be simple. Just keep an eye on the place and serve whoever wanders in. How busy could a chippy be after hours?

When she’d arrived at 10pm, rowdy college kids and drunken randos filled the place and she was instantly thrust into chaos. Things had started to calm down around 3 and she’d cleared and restocked the tables, finally free to sit around and wait for 6am to roll around. The only saving grace now was her trusty flask hidden under her skirt.

Rae stretched and glanced over the place before stepping towards the backroom. The bell above the door chimed and her eyes closed as she bit back a groan. She turned and pasted a smile on as a man slipped inside, his head low and hands in pocket. He looked up and met her eyes and she gasped slightly as she took in his face.

He was bloodied up, deep purple bruises over his eye and cheek, framed with a hastily stitched cut over his brow. He remained silent as he approached the counter and sat down across from her.

“Decaf coffee, love,” he said, shrugging his leather jacket off and shaking out his fringe without sparing her a glance.

“Didn’t your mum teach you any manners?” Rae snapped, the man’s head shooting up at her tone. His lip curled into a smirk and he raised a brow.

“Naw, ‘fraid not,” he started, his nose wrinkling, “and unless you’ve got a Ouija board hiding under that little skirt of yours, it’s gonna stay that way.”

Rae fell silent and bit her cheek with a nod.

“Decaf coffee...coming right up.”

He watched her turn away with a mumbled ‘Cheers’ before holding up a spoon and checking his reflection over. She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she entered the kitchen and retrieved a mug. Her mouth twisted to the side as she reached for the non-decaf coffee and filled the mug before bringing it back to the floor. She dropped it in front of him with a loud clink, a hand going to her hip as he held a lighter to a rollie.

“Oi, there’s no smoking in here,” she asserted. He took a deep drag, squinting at her through the smoke.

“Since when?” Rae’s eyes widened and she scoffed.

“Since always. This isn’t a bloody pub.”

His eyes narrowed and he took another drag before ashing into a glass dish on the counter, his lips quirking at Rae’s indignant gasp.

“Why’s there an ashtray then?”

“S’not an ashtray, dickhead,” she groused, waving a hand to mint filled dishes throughout. He blew his smoke to the side and stubbed out the smoke in the dish before raising his hands.

“Well, my sincerest apologies…” he began, glancing down at her nametag, his eyes lingering on her chest a beat too long, “Rae.”

“Anything else, sir,” she grated out, her jaw clenching. He smiled and she internally rolled her eyes as she felt her stomach flip. He was fit as but he was doing her head in.

“It’s Finn,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee and grimacing as he added sugar, “Y’sure this is decaf?”

“Of course,” she said hastily as she took a step back, “Yell if you need anything.”

She sighed roughly as she reached the backroom, lifting her skirt and taking the flask from its hold against her thigh. She licked her lips as she lifted it, the sharp scent of vodka eliciting a smile.

“Rae?”

She cursed, Finn’s voice stopping her. She shakily closed it and dropped it to her apron as she walked back out. His brow furrowed as he looked her over, pausing at her waist.

“D’ya always drink on the job?”

Rae met Finn’s eyes in a deadpan stare and shook her head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” she retorted, crossing her arms, “You need something?”

“Where’s Sharon? She’s usually on this shift, yeah?” he asked, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s having the baby.”

“Ah, fair enough.”

Rae’s tongue ran over her teeth and she raised her brows at him.

“She’s married, y’know.”

“I had no idea,” he jeered before half-shrugging, “You think that’d stop me?” At Rae’s dirty look, he bit back a smile and continued, “I’m joking.” He lifted the mug to his mouth, Rae’s eyes rolling. She looked at the clock and sighed. At least making small talk would pass the time.

“What brings you in so late anyways?” she asked, waving a hand at his face, “Fight with the wife?”

Finn huffed a laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not married,” he said, a cheeky grin forming a moment later, “Lucky for you.”

“And why’s that?” she laughed, unable to stop her smile. He leaned closer and bit his lip.

“You don’t feel it, girl?” Rae looked at him blankly and he went on, eyes dancing, “There’s a fire between us.” Rae frowned, her nose scrunching at him.

“It’s a Babylon Zoo song--”

“I know what song it is, thanks,” she snorted. He smiled as he looked her over.

“I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“Usually work days,” she yawned, her hand covering her mouth. Finn watched as it lowered and she clasped her hands. He nodded to her apron.

“Secret’s safe with me,” he offered, Rae’s brow lowering. He mimed a drink and she cleared her throat slightly.

“I don’t understand--”

“You’re shaking. Go ahead.” He looked pointedly at her clasped hands and she bit her lip roughly before lifting the flask from her apron.

“Cheers, Finley,” she sneered before taking a swig, the bitter drink burning down her throat deliciously. She held the flask out to him and he shook his head as he stood and pulled his jacket on.

“I don’t drink. Thanks for the brew.” He dropped a bill to the counter and shot her a smile, “Laters, Rae.”

She had barely opened her mouth to say goodbye when he turned to leave. He cleared the door just as she looked down and saw the 100 printed on the bill.

***

Rae blew out a sigh as she closed her front door, falling back against it and closing her eyes. What a night.

Not bad overall, which was surprising. She’d expected to be miserably bored the entire time but the bloke who came in towards the end redeemed the night.

Finn...who the fuck was he?

Stamford wasn’t exactly a metropolis so she wondered how she’d never crossed paths with him before. She guessed he was around her age but he did have a bit of a young face...underneath all the blood.

She half hoped she’d see him again, to have a second chance to riddle him out. His injuries were concerning but he didn’t seem dangerous...more like he held his own.

And the money…

Rae didn’t plan on keeping it. She didn’t feel deserving of it, given her immediate rudeness. Not to mention the coffee switch. She smirked, the thought of Finn laying wide awake at 6am countering his cheek.

“Chloe?”

Silence met her call and she couldn’t help but frown as she dropped her bag to the side and shuffled deeper into the flat.

No doubt Chloe would be over at her knobhead boyfriend Ian’s place. He was an older, insufferable dealer who fucked around all day with his lowlife mates and pushed Chloe around. Rae couldn’t hope to warn her off of him--they’d been on and off since college and she was completely smitten with the fucker.

She wouldn’t mind being alone if it wasn’t so goddamn quiet.

At that, she went to her record player and dropped the needle, I Wanna Be Adored flowing from the speakers. Her hips moved to the familiar beat as she walked to the kitchen. As exhausted as she was, she knew she needed a nice brew before bed, preferably with a shot of bourbon. All she wanted to do was sleep long and hard. Speaking of…

She bit her lip as she put the kettle on, contemplating calling her long-time mate Liam for a morning quickie to take the edge off. It’d been awhile but she knew he’d be up for work soon, if not at that moment. He wasn’t the best (in bed or otherwise) but he’d do in a pinch.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, fixing herself a cup before pouring a sizable amount of bourbon in and stirring it. At the first sip, her eyes closed and she relaxed, a slight smile forming. She stood at the counter, leaning against it as she drank.

The record continued in the other room but the flat still seemed too quiet, too dormant for her sanity. It felt different in here, almost wrong. She wasn’t sleeping or getting ready for a morning shift. It was going on 7am and she felt wired and restless despite her fatigue. She wished Chloe was here, if only for the comfort of her presence in the flat.

Standing there, she could only think of how things hadn’t changed much. Here she was, in her kitchen, trying to ignore her mind practically screaming that she was alone and always would be. No mum, no best mate, no buffer from the intrusive thoughts that seemed to creep up everytime she let her guard down in the slightest.

Over her mug, she eyed the number scribbled on a slip of paper stuck to the fridge. She’d stopped therapy years ago but Kester had insisted she take his number, if she ever changed her mind or needed him.

Rae had held back thus far, dealing with everything in her own self-destructive way. But drinking was ultimately better than cutting, right? Alcohol killed the pain and doubt easier than any knife had--along with the simplicity of aftercare. Sleep it off, drink some water, clean up any mess. No blood, no ache, no problem.

Kester wouldn’t agree with her methods but he’d already proven his own dysfunction when she’d found him passed out on the bathroom floor at sixteen. She’d never forget that...the realization that no matter how put together or distinguished or fucking qualified you were, life was still a bitch that kicked you down and out. Nothing ever changed. Nothing ever got better.

Her gaze shifted from the number to the knife block beside the stovetop and she squeezed her eyes shut, finished off her tea and went for the phone.

***

Night two began with much of the same craziness as the first but she was a step ahead this time, prepared for the initial rush. By the time early morning rolled around, she was pleasantly tipsy and all smiles when Finn slipped through the door again. He returned her smile with raised brows and she looked him over as he sat at the counter and took off his jacket.

His face was all cleaned up, the bruises over his eye and cheek already starting to lighten, and his brow properly stitched. Without the mess of blood, she noticed his freckles standing out over his nose and cheeks and the sharp cut of his jaw with the slight shading of stubble.

Without a word, she slid the 100 pound note to him, an amused, if not a bit impressed, smirk forming on his lips.

“I can’t take this,” she said simply, Finn pursing his lips with a nod.

“Fair enough,” he replied before his smirk widened, “It was a pretty big tip for non-decaf.”

Rae blushed and she cleared her throat, quickly shifting gears.

“What brings you back then?” He shrugged and stretched through a yawn.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he muttered and she took a second look at him, noting his reddened eyes and the bags under them, “Reckoned I’d take a walk, tire myself out.”

“That doesn’t explain you coming here,” she noted. His head tilted and he scrunched his nose at her.

“I thought maybe your sparkling conversation would knock me out right quick.” Her lips parted with a small scoff and he bit back a smile, “You seem different... happier.”

Rae didn’t think it was a good idea to tell a virtual stranger the reason for her good mood was a stiff drink and a shag so she settled for waving it off and leaning onto the counter.

“What’ll it be, Finley?”

“Well, as I’ve got work in,” he paused to check his watch, “two hours, I suppose I’ll take a coffee,” he finished with a wink, “Non-decaf, love.”

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfdfanfiction #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary fanfiction #my mad fat diary #mymadfatdiary #nightshift

36 notes · View notes

bloojayoolie · 6 years

Photo

Being Alone, Andrew Bogut, and Animals: NOT JUST A PRETTY FACE- A GOOD BOY. A FINE WALKER WONDERFULLY SOCIAL PLAYFUL, CURIOUS. WELL MANNERED WITH PEOPLE & OTHER DOGS! PERFECTION! FINLEY, THE WHOLE PACKAGE! ID 36897, 3 YRS. OLD, 60 LBS., WAITING FOR YOU, MANHATTAN ACC TO BE KILLED - 8/11/2018 FINLEY is not just a pretty face – he’s the WHOLE PACKAGE! Come get the dog of your dreams, folks, he’s great with people and he’s a “Dog’s dog.” <3 A volunteer writes: “You could be mistaken for thinking we're running a doggie modeling agency at the Care Center with an elegant gent like Finley strolling around! His sculpted cheekbones and soulful eyes alone are the stuff of envious daydreams, but this good boy is so much more than just a pretty face. He's also a fine walker, seemingly very house trained and no guarder of toys, and he won our staff over on the spot with his wonderfully social manners in playgroup. A real 'dog's dog' who'd rather be outdoors living life to the full than inside lazing on a couch, Finley's the perfect teammate, running and leaping enthusiastically round the yard with any new pup who cares to join in the game. He'll even tailor his energy levels and play style to their own, 'helicopter tail' wagging joyfully all the while. Playful, curious and well-mannered, Finley is the full pet package, and if you're looking for a fun new addition to your four-legged family, the search ends here. Meet him at our Manhattan Care Center and bring the whole crew!” PRIVATE MESSAGE our page or email us at [email protected] for assistance. Polite, well mannered Finley is a Playgroup STAR! https://youtu.be/gXT-MRcAkjo FINLEY, ID # 36897 @ 3 Yrs. Old, 60.6 lbs. Manhattan ACC, Large Mixed Breed, Tan / White, Unaltered Male I came to the shelter as: Stray, 8/3/2018 Shelter Assessment Rating: AVERAGE Intake Behavior Rating: INTAKE NOTES - DATE OF INTAKE 8/3/2018: Upon intake, Finley approached me with a loose body and a wagging tail. Finley sniffed my hand as I scanned for a microchip and continued wagging his tail. Finely allowed me to reach over him to remove his collar and place a leash. Finely pulled a bit on the leash when walked. Finely became tense when I tried to place him into his kennel. Finely froze when I tried to pick him up to place him into the kennel and would walk away and pull on the leash. SURRENDER NOTES - Basic Information:: Finley is approximately a 3 year old male tan and white large mixed breed dog. Finley was surrendered at a precinct and then surrendered to our center. His prior history and behavior are unknown. Finley is described as being friendly with the officers. SHELTER ASSESSMENT - Date of assessment:: 8/5/2018 Look:: 2. Dog pulls out of Assessor's hands each time without settling during three repetitions. Sensitivity:: 1. Dog leans into the Assessor, eyes soft or squinty, soft and loose body, open mouth. Tag:: 1. Dog assumes play position and joins the game. Or dog indicates play with huffing, soft 'popping' of the body, etc. Dog might jump on Assessor once play begins. Paw squeeze 1:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Paw squeeze 2:: 1. Dog gently pulls back his/her paw. Flank squeeze 1:: Item not conducted Flank squeeze 2:: Item not conducted Toy:: 1. Minimal interest in toy, dog may smell or lick, then turns away. Summary:: Finley approached the assessor with a soft body. He was social throughout the assessment, allowed all handling, and displayed no concerning behaviors. PLAYGROUP NOTES - DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: Slow introductions are recommended between Finley and dogs who are social and playful. Summary (1):: 8/6: When introduced off leash to dogs Finley engages in exuberant, body contact play. Summary (2):: 8/7: Finley plays exuberantly and frequently self-handicaps, adjusts play style to the helper dog. He appears soft when greeting a male dog behind the gate. INTAKE BEHAVIOR - Date of intake:: 8/3/2018. Summary:: Loose body, allowed handling ENERGY LEVEL:: We have no history on Finely so we cannot be certain of his behavior in a home environment. In the care center, he displays a medium level of activity. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: AVERAGE (suitable for an adopter with an average amount of dog experience) Behavior Asilomar: H - Healthy MEDICAL NOTES: 8/08/2018 DVM Intake Exam. Estimated age: 3-5yrs old. Microchip noted on Intake? scanned negative by LVT on intake. MC placed on intake. History : stray. Subjective / Observed Behavior - BAR, allowed all handling with loose body and tail wagging. Evidence of Cruelty seen - none. Evidence of Trauma seen - none. Objective: BCS 5/9, EENT: Eyes clear, mild black exudate, As; no nasal or ocular discharge noted. Oral Exam: dc 1/5; pd 1/5. PLN: No enlargements noted. H/L: No murmur ausculted; CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic. ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated. U/G: intact male. testicles smooth and symmetrical. MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat. CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Rectal: grossly normal. Assessment: otitis externa, dental disease, Prognosis: excellent . Plan: ok for sx, ear cleaning and claro otic plus nail trim at sx . SURGERY: Okay for surgery. 9/08/2018 Subjective Observations: BAR active at kennel front. EENT -- sneezing during rounds observation. Serous nasal discharge. Assessment: CIRDC. Plan: cerenia 60mg tablet -- give 0.5 tablet PO q24h x 4 days, doxycycline 100mg tablet -- give 2.5 tablets PO q24h x 14 days * TO FOSTER OR ADOPT * If you would like to adopt a dog on our “To Be Killed” list, and you CAN get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process *within 48 hours of reserve*, you can reserve the dog online until noon on the day they are scheduled to die. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://newhope.shelterbuddy.com/Animal/List Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction Animal Care Centers of NYC (ACC) nycacc.org HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications. Shelter contact information Phone number (212) 788-4000 Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309 Available Animals Thank you for your interest in adopting from Animal Care Centers of NYC. Our At Risk List is posted each day (except Saturday) at 6:00PM and remains viewable until 12:00PM noon the following day. newhope.shelterbuddy.com

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Being Alone #Andrew B

2 notes · View notes

banggyu0308 · 9 months

Text

@skz-minchan-enthusiast is a GENIUS

#ada speaks :)#finley who needs his own tag <3

5 notes · View notes

fluffleforce-mysdrym · 7 years

Text

Getting Into My OC

A comprehensive breakdown of your OC.

Thank you to the wonderful @ellenembee for tagging me with this! I’m going to do Finley from Andraste’s Witch and Weslyn and Nicole from Tales of Mysdrym.

Thank you so much for the tag!

NAME: None, though she calls herself Finley as of the Conclave

AGE: 27 at the time of the conclave

GENDER: Female

ORIENTATION: pan

PROFESSION: Wilds’ Apostate

BACKGROUND:

Finley’s father was a heartless maleficar and her mother was an abomination. The demon inside her mother was a third parent of sorts, the only one who cared for her, and the only reason the others didn’t drown her when she was little, instead tricking her maleficar parents into believing that Finley’s blood would enhance their blood magic, thus ensuring they would keep her alive.

Around four years old, templars came and killed her parents. Because she had been a hostage of the blood mages, as far as the templars knew, they kept her with them, initially to keep an eye out for signs of possession, though they ended up becoming very protective of their dear, odd girl.

For the first time, Finley knew what it was like to be safe, to have a home. Her templars -- Ser Caudry, Ser Ross, and Ser Neil -- doted on her and treated her like their own child, telling her stories to make the world less frightening and always there to hold a hand when her nightmares were too much. She would steal the templars’ shields and run around, imagining herself a savior to others from the terrifying blood mages and monsters in the world. She didn’t want anyone else to be trapped with monsters like she had been and was determined to be like her heroes, even if she was very afraid of most all other people.

After 3 years of living with the templars, one of them, Ser Caudry, was brought back severely injured. Terrified that one of her heroes would die, Finley’s magic woke up, and she expended almost all of her energy healing him as best she could.

When she woke up, one of the other templars, Ser Neil, was taking her into the woods, telling her that she would be safe with the Avvar, as he feared what would happen to her if she was taken to a Circle when she was already so skittish and mentally frail. The Revered Mother from the Chantry they’d been living at, however, had already alerted the Circle of Finley’s magic, and the Circle templars caught up before they could get far into the mountains.

Ser Neil tried to fend off the templars, but one snuck up behind them and ran Finley through, just barely missing her heart. Distracted by Finley’s cry from getting hurt, Ser Neil was cut down in front of her.

When Finley next awoke, she was with the renowned Flemeth and one of her daughters. The great Witch of the Wilds had caught sight of the templars attacking Finley and Ser Neil and had been curious because Finley seemed a bit closer to the Fade than most her age, so she had intervened.

Flemeth told her that going back north would result in death, at best, and that there was a sliver of a chance she might survive if she fled into the Wilds. When Finley woke up, she was alone in a deserted camp that looked like it hadn’t been used in months.

Life in the Wilds was hard at first, but Finley learned that most of the creatures people deemed to be monsters could be allies of sorts, if one offered them the proper respect and understood that they simply followed their nature.

Seeking peace and quiet, she became known as the Green Witch, as her magic dealt mostly with nature and she wound up helping the lost find their way out of the woods and the like. Mostly she did it to prevent search parties from drawing too much attention to herself and bringing in the templars, but in the stories that sprung up around her, people lauded her a kind Witch.

Heartbreak and betrayal, as well as the demon that had possessed her mother, followed her through her life, leading to some hellacious trust and abandonment issues.

After the Blight, she devoted herself to finding a way to heal the Wilds and return them to the way they were before the arrogance of man had destroyed so much of it. It was during her research that a familiar old Witch came by to tell her that there was someone who could help her with her research, though she would need to go to the Conclave to get their assistance.

PHYSICAL

Body type: lithe

Eyes: blue with gold flame-like center around the pupils, fade-touched

Hair: fiery orange

Skin: tanned with oodles of freckles

Height: 5′3

Weight: 105

SKILLS (S.P.E.C.I.A.L + M)

Strength: 5/10, but only because she can heal herself well enough that she can over exert without too much in the way of repercussions.

Perception: Varies. 9/10 when she’s in the Wilds, on her own, 5/10 when she’s dealing with a lot of people, mostly because she may see what they’re doing but doesn’t understand what their little movements/tells mean so seeing it is meaningless, 6/10 when she’s in a fight and collected, 3/10 when her side is losing and she’s panicking that someone is going to die and she’ll be blamed. She tends to get hurt most often with the last one because she forgets to look after herself.

Endurance: 9/10. She’s been through some shit and is used to having to outrun/outlast templars.

Charisma: 2/10. Her general paranoia and fear of people betraying her does not lend well to being charismatic.

Intelligence: 7/10. Finley picks up on things quickly, so long as she can make sense of why it is done or why it is necessary. Her lack of understanding of currency, for example, stems from her not seeing a point in having tiny coins when one can just do favors for one another. Spells, she learns incredibly quickly, flips, and the like. Nuances to conversation and culture, not so much. Most of the time, her problems also stem from the fact that if she knows (or thinks she knows) one way to do something, she sees no point in learning another way when hers is already effective. She’s her own biggest obstacle.

Agility: 9/10. One does not outmaneuver a templar if one is slow.

Luck: 1/10. Father - maleficar. Mother - possessed and dead. 3 Templars - dead or exiled from the order. 1st love - possessed and dead. 2nd lover - possessed and dead. 3rd lover - was a liar who tried to sell her to the templars and Finley was almost beheaded while she ran away (she doesn’t like to talk about it). Demon stalker. Wilds ravaged. People messing up her wards and making them clunky and cumbersome. Stuck around a ridiculous number of templars. Expected to play nice with idiot nobility and mage haters. Favorite spider - stepped on by Hawke. Hawke - exists.

As far as Finley’s concerned, she has no good luck. Well, except for getting to meet the Alistair Theirin and a few other grey wardens.

Magic: 10/10 Finley is very good with magic, also rather condescending to anyone who doesn’t practice her style, which is everyone.

LIKES

Colors: birds, wild animals, the Wilds, not being around people

Smells: Fresh rain, ocean breezes, wildflowers

Food: For someone as picky as she is, she’s surprisingly blasé toward food in general

Fruit: any of them

Drinks: Anything non-alcoholic

Alcoholic drinks: she doesn’t like them because she likes to stay alert.

OTHER

Smoke: none. Smoke makes it easier for someone to find you.

Drugs: none, unless she’s slipping them to someone else so she can run away

Driver’s license?: much to Varric’s amusement, she claims she can ride kelpies, but not much else.

NAME: Weslyn Kagris, 2nd son of Jasserai Kagris

AGE: 28 at the beginning of the book

GENDER: male

ORIENTATION: gay

PROFESSION: emissary/make-shift monarch (not by choice)

BACKGROUND:

Weslyn grew up in Kyvrell, Mysdrym’s southern neighbor who has poor standing with Mysdrym ever since the Demons’ War four thousand years ago, during which the lands that now make up Kyvrell were abandoned by the crown. The people who survived the demonic onslaught and fall of their sacred temples refused to return to the rule of the people who had left them to die, and it is a point of pride that they have survived so well on their own. Especially considering that they are the ones who are most frequently attacked by the Chaotic shifters from the islands to the south.

While Weslyn had expected to join Kyvrell’s prominent military, being the second child of noble parents, when it became clear that the demons were reemerging after four turns (1 turn is 1000 years) of silence, he was elected to go to Mysdrym on behalf of Kyvrell to request the ancient seals that could lock the demons away once more.

He was nearly laughed out of court when he presented himself to High Grace Norwrithe of Mysdrym.

Even as he’d considered what he could do—he couldn’t return home without the seals, but knew he couldn’t expect the High Grace to take him seriously—he was approached by Lord Sehnswrift, a noble who had fallen out of favor with the high grace. Lord Sehnswrift was adamant that Weslyn was right; the demons were returning.

They began working together, gathering support where they could—even though he’d fallen from favor with the court, Lord Sehnswrift still held a great deal of respect among the soldiers.

Then, abruptly, Lord Sehnswrift staged a coup, with Weslyn at his side, murdering the high grace and scattering the surviving nobles from the capital. Despite taking power, Lord Sehnswrift showed no desire to take over the duties of running the country, instead handing the job off to Weslyn, who—despite pleas that him running things would make it look like Kyvrell had declared war on Mysdrym—finally accepted with great reluctance.

Despite the rather legitimate fear that he will be assassinated, Weslyn has done what he can to ease tensions, working on redirecting funds from the high grace’s parties to doing construction around Mysdrym’s capital and attempting to show the people of Mysdrym that he and Lord Sehnswrift wish to help.

He keeps his sword near him at all times, so that he will not be taken unawares.

After a few months of somehow managing to not have a heart attack whilst running a foreign country, Lord Sehnswrift gathered him to go and meet fabled other-worlders, who are sent by the Gods in times of strife. Weslyn is not particularly pleased with their arrival, as that means that the return of the demons is likely to be so devastating that the Gods thought other-worlders were necessary.

PHYSICAL

Body type: well toned

Eyes: gray

Hair: dark brown

Skin: coppery

Height: 5′11

Weight: idfk, he’s got muscle though

SKILLS (S.P.E.C.I.A.L + M)

Strength: 7/10. He’s a pretty solid fighter.

Perception: 7/10 He’d probably notice more, but he’s kind of paranoid about being assassinated, so what he thinks is hyper-vigilance does make him miss some stuff because he gets so easily distracted by harmless sounds and shadows.

Endurance: Varies. 9/10 in a fight, 6/10 dealing with the upkeep of the castle, 2/10 dealing with other-worlders’ bullshit, but he’s working on that last one.

Charisma: 5/10. He’s not great at hiding the growing terror that he’s going to be deposed with the Lord he sided with, should people come to reclaim the throne for the young grace.

Intelligence: 7/10. He’s a quick study, and a fairly good tactician.

Agility: 7/10. Not the fastest, but good at dodging stuff, in a fair fight. Demons don’t fight fair, though.

Luck: 4/10. He went to a foreign country to find out how to save his, got stuck running said country and accidentally freed the demon lord, when all he wants is to go home, so... not the best.

Magick: 3/10. He is not a fan of his healing magick, as it wears him down, but he is trying to strengthen it, as the other-worlders are so accident prone and it would help to have a healer while fighting the demons.

LIKES

Colors: reds, browns, golds

Smells: ocean breezes, baking bread

Food: He likes a good wyvern steak.

Fruit: eh, star flower fruit is alright

Drinks: something to take the edge off

Alcoholic drinks: yes, please

OTHER

Smoke: a good distraction tactic, if necessary.

Drugs: he sees enough shit hiding in the shadows, he doesn’t need drugs adding to it.

Driver’s license?: He does not come from a world with driver’s licenses, but he’s fairly good on a horse.

NAME: Nicole (Nik) Katerin Hedgeway

AGE: 21 at the beginning of the book

GENDER: female

ORIENTATION: pan

PROFESSION: other-worlder

BACKGROUND:

The first five years of Nik’s life are never brought up or talked about, other than to say her mother was unwell and unfit. Zachary’s father found Nik living in the woods behind their house, scrawny and underfed and terrified of people. He talked her into coming home with him, and while his wife and son talked with her, he called for help.

Nik’s mother had failed to inform anyone that she’d been missing, and had a breakdown after her reappearance, saying that Nik was the product of rape, and she couldn’t look at her. While Nik has always doubted this, her mother’s family did not, rallying behind her mother. When her aunt refused to shun Nik, saying she deserved to be with family, Nik, her aunt, and her cousin Samantha were all disowned.

Nik has fought with guilt over that for most of her life, though she can’t say that she thinks Samantha is missing out on much. Still, she knows it hurts her aunt and wishes she could fix things.

Because of a freak accident in the woods when she was 7 that left Nik severely injured, she was unable to go to school for two years and ended up being in the same grade as Samantha, Zachary, and Ella.

Her injuries have caused her problems ever since, and she’s been in and out of the hospital far too many times.

One of the things that has helped her the most throughout her life are stories that have been in her head for as long as she can remember, of fantastical creatures and magick. She is sure that they are as real as she is, and often claims to have seen them or other magickal creatures wandering the world.

While Samantha and Zachary—and later Ella—were fond of her stories growing up, Samantha has become disenfranchised with them, feeling that Nik is using them to avoid reality. Nik is annoyed that Samantha would be so quick to insist they are not real, but tries to keep the peace, as she knows Samantha will not accept her truths.

Knowing that Samantha has spent much of her life giving up too many things so that she can stay with and help her, Nik fakes getting accepted into a local college so that Samantha will go off into the world and have a chance to find herself, free from Nik’s shadow.

It doesn’t quite work, and when Zachary finds out she’s not in college, things get uncomfortable as she realizes she’s going to have to tell Samantha she lied.

However, before things can fall apart completely, Nik and Ella are whisked away to Mysdrym by a dog made of shadows.

Needless to say, Nik is ecstatic.

PHYSICAL

Body type: a bit too thin

Eyes: gray

Hair: brown

Skin: too pale

Height: 6′0

Weight: underweight

SKILLS (S.P.E.C.I.A.L + M)

Strength: 4/10. Despite being so thin, she can carry about as much as her healthier friends, and insists she could do more, if given the chance. She is never given the chance.

Perception: 4/10. Nik’s pretty thrilled to learn new stuff, but she doesn’t pick up on danger really quick. Like, she’ll be inspecting an awesome flower she’s never seen before and would be so entranced with memorizing the details on the pistils that someone could easily sneak up on her. She tries to pay attention, but gets distracted really easily.

Endurance: 7/10. She’s pretty proud that she’s been improving lately, not falling over and collapsing like she used to.

Charisma: 4/10. She’s friendly enough, but people often find themselves experiencing an innate unease from merely being around her, and as a result, a lot of people just try to avoid her.

Intelligence: 9/10. She catches on to stuff really quickly, even things she’s not able to do herself, and can walk others through how to do it (i.e. magick).

Agility: 8/10 fast for someone who looks like they’re about to fall over, and when Ella and Zach catch her doing things like backflips, they wonder how. Samantha threatens murder, though, so Nik tries to be subtle with any acrobatics, so that word doesn’t get back to her dear cousin.

Luck: 4/10. Things are always trying to kill her, when all she wants is to have fun and go on adventures.

Magick: 0/10. Much to her chagrin, she cannot use magick.

LIKES

Colors: all of them

Smells: leaves, wind - yes, she insists it does have a smell unto itself, nature-y things

Food: salad

Fruit: fuck yeah

Drinks: water

Alcoholic drinks: she is wary of alcohol and other mind-altering things

OTHER

Smoke: her cousin, Samantha, would kill her.

Drugs: just got off a bunch of prescribed bullshit against her doctor’s orders, and is not a fan of any type in general

Driver’s license?: due to her health issues, she’s not really allowed to drive, since she was prone to passing out and stuff for a while. Though she’s doing better, she doesn’t need one because she’s in Mysdrym now.

Tagging: @cometeclipsewriting, @momopichu, @commandershepardvasfuckit, @slothquisitor, @rederiswrites, @gugle1980, and @thesecondsealwrites. No pressure :D

#ocs #finley #andraste's witch #nicole hedgeway #weslyn kagris #tales of mysdrym #fun stuff :D #ty again for the tag!

9 notes · View notes

canwetalkaboutcaptainswan · 7 years

Text

280 Days

Finally finally the fic you all requested...Pregnant!Emma galore. It’s a long one folks. I hope you enjoy it!!

@justcheckingstuffcs @dark-ones-dont-need-sleep @losttalongthewayy @leatherjacketsandrum @mrandmrsswan @naiariddle @raggedyclaraa @mayquita @thegladelf @flslp87 @onceuponiwishmytime @galadriel26 @captainswanslay @captainswan710 @allofthismatters @mxltifandoms @caaptain-swan @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @justcheckingstuffcs @blowmiakisscolin

Don’t forget, if I missed you in the tags, just shoot me a message and I’ll tag you from now on. And if you just got here, this piece is a companion piece to this, but you could still enjoy it if you haven’t read anything from the Nth Time Series.(But if you want to read all the parts, just go to my blog and check the cs ff tag.)

Enjoy this big fat heaping dose of CS family fluff!

~ Jenn

*************************************************

~ Day 78

She hates it. She forgot how much actually being pregnant sucks. 280 days of pure, undiluted torture. She’s queasy in the mornings and sweaty at night and she’s only known she’s pregnant for two weeks but god, it already feels like it’s been an eternity. Today is especially bad because this morning she woke up and she wanted eggs and Killian, of course, because this is Killian, made her eggs but then the smell made her sick, which made him feel bad which made her feel bad which made her cry which made him feel even worse which made her feel even worse. And her belly is already so round and in charge, and god, she’s 11 weeks pregnant and how dare her stupid perfect husband pump her full of so many babies?!

~ Day 83

They find an obstetrician that specializes in multiples at a Children’s hospital in Boston. The drive there is a little too far for Killian’s liking (45 minutes, 40 if you speed) but Emma assures him that it’s worth it and that she’d rather make the drive than trust Frankenstein to deliver their twins. Their first visit there is a Tuesday, and they’re delightfully surprised when the friendly obstetrician offers to get out her ultrasound machine. It’s the first time Killian’s seen the babies and he’s transfixed on the screen, watching those little blobs dance with the happiest of expressions. He cries when he hears their heartbeats for the first time, and before they leave, Dr. Cameron whispers to Emma about how lucky she is to have such a supportive partner. “Oh believe me,” she agrees, offering a smile, “there’s no way I could do this with anyone but him."

~ Day 90

Today is lovely in every sense of the word. It’s a lazy day, that Saturday, a perfect day off. Emma sleeps in and misses the morning sail, waking only to the patter of little 3-year old feet and the feeling of sea salt dusted lips against her hairline. She opens her eyes just as Leia clambers up on the bed, intent on telling the babies about her morning even though they can’t hear her really, not yet. “The wind was perfect, little loves,” the three year-old explains, and Emma watches Killian quietly sigh on account of Leia’s now-perfect “L” sounds. His only consolation is that his heart is warmed by the fact that she’s mastered the sound by using her own special nickname on her brothers ("or sisters, Killian.” “No, Swan.").

~ Day 112

There’s a crisis. What a surprise. Some villain with an ample supply of magic knock-out powder is going from shop to shop in town, taking money from the tills. Granny and Gold were both found unconscious, and August had been hit with the powder at the top of a staircase, which he’d then fallen down and broken a leg and a collarbone. Enough was enough and it was time to catch the bandit. Emma scurries around the house, fetching her jacket and loading her gun before snapping it into the holster. She’d had to expand the buckle on the thing to accommodate for her expanding girth already. (Ugh, are you kidding me?) She's pissed because it's her day off and now she has this to deal with. Her and Killian had been having a much needed nap together while Leia played with Henry, and it nearly killed her to leave his arms. Killian follows her around the house as she readies herself, and one look at his face lets her know something's bothering him. She goes to the front door to put on her boots, and he trails behind, busying himself with straightening the rest of the shoes in the foyer while she ties her laces. “Hey,” she says when she's finished, reaching for him, “I won’t be long, okay? Gunna nab this asshole and then my dad can deal with him. I’ll be back in no time to finish our nap.”

Killian takes a deep breath but forces a smile. Still, Emma can see that it doesn't reach his eyes, and can tell he’s unsettled inside. Unfortunately there's no time for her to figure it out now, as she really does have to go. He leans down and kisses her forehead. “Aye. Be…just be careful, Swan, alright?”

She nods, kissing his cheek before darting out the front door and going down the porch steps, toward the bug. She reaches into her pocket to retrieve her phone, intent on calling her dad and figuring out where they should start searching for this bastard. But before she can dial, she hears the front door open behind her. She spins, expecting it to be Leia wanting to say goodbye to her, but it isn’t. Killian is standing on the front porch, a heartbreaking expression of desperation etched on his face as he gazes at her. Well actually, she realizes, he isn’t really gazing at her, but rather at the small protrusion underneath her jacket that’s currently housing his two tiny humans.

“Please don’t go, Swan,” he says then, and the words are a quiet, desperate plead.

Understanding floods Emma almost instantly, and she mentally kicks herself because how had she failed to realize before the obvious reason why he looked so terrified?

“Oh Killian, I won’t,” she says automatically, and she immediately steps toward him, releasing her hold on her phone. Killian exhales in obvious relief and rushes toward her, meeting her at the bottom of the porch and pulling her into his arms. She wraps her own arms around him tightly, carding her fingers through his hair to soothe him.

He nuzzles against her ear. “I’m sorry, love. I know you can handle yourself, but I was just afraid that-“

“Hey, hey hey. Don’t be sorry, Killian, you’re right. I love you so much, okay? I’m not going anywhere. We’re all right here.”

He exhales again, nodding against her, and she still feels guilty for even considering endangering their unborn children. What if she’d been knocked out? Or fallen down a flight of stairs like August? She shudders in his arms at the mere thought, and does her best to throw all that out of her head. She’s safe here, he has her. “C’mon,” she smiles gently, nodding toward the house, “I’ll call my dad and we’ll resume our nap.”

~ Day 120

"Do you know how amazing you are?” he asks her one night when they’re settled intimately in their bathtub, Leia asleep, candles lit and bubbles abounding. Her back is pressed against his chest and his hand is settled under the water against her belly, her abdominal muscles quivering as he circles her navel with his pinkie finger. They’re cheek to stubbled cheek, so she’s sure he can feel the heat of her blush.

“Hmm,” she hums quietly, unsure of how to respond to his grandiose, complimentary statement.

“You’re just constantly amazing me, my love. First I got to watch you learn to be a mother to a little boy who is now our beautiful, astute young man. And then I got to watch you fiercely deliver our little screaming daughter into the world and have the pleasure of helping you raise her to be the perfect little ray of light that she is. And now here we are again, you’re blessing me with the greatest gift again, of carrying not one more but two more little creatures whom I already love so desperately that it makes me half-crazed. I’d have nothing if not for you, Emma Swan-Jones. You quite literally rooted me up from a place where I had nothing and you gave me everything. And I love you so, so much. So much.”

Emma just stares at him, tears gathering bountifully in her eyes. “...okay, well. I have absolutely no idea how to follow that speech, so I guess I’ll just kiss you now, okay?” she tries.

Killian just beams at her, the love in his gaze setting fire to her skin. “Okay,” he whispers.

~ Day 126

The paint is cold, but it feels nice. She's sprawled out on a hammock she let Leia conjure in their creepy-basement-turned-multi-purpose space, her belly jutting out proudly towards the ceiling. It's splattered with patterns of blues and pinks, Leia's paintbrush sweeping smoothly in a rhythmic motion that's halfway lulling her to sleep. Killian sits nearby in a lazy boy, yet another book about raising multiples perched on his lap. Noticing her mother’s eyes shut, Leia turns to her father. “How much longer until we can find out, Daddy?”

Killian smiles widely at his daughter’s artwork before looking at her. “Just two more weeks now, little love. I promise.”

~Day 140

No matter how hard anyone tries, the piñata just will not bust open. The backyard is all but packed to the max, literally all of Storybrooke having gathered for the grand celebration. Pink and blue decorations a la Mary Margaret are everywhere, and all that stands between everyone and the truth is a giant, pirate-ship-shaped piñata. All the kids - Leia, Robyn, Neal, Alexandra, Finley, etc - have been taking turns whacking the thing for the past half hour. Henry even took a mean swing, followed by Charming. But still, nothing. Killian is all but vibrating with excitement, swallowing curses every time somebody hits it.

“Why are you so nervous?” Emma elbows him playfully, oddly feeling calm despite the gravity of this situation. “You’ve said from day 1 you know they’re boys.”

“Aye, Swan, but it’s been a bloody eternity. I need that candy to fall so I can be certain.”

Emma clasps his shaking hand, rubbing the back of it with her thumb. “Patience, grasshopper. I’m sure one of these times—”

They’re interrupted by a thunderous crack, Neal having hit the ship particularly hard this time. The piñata swings wildly and everyone’s eyes watch it in anticipation, and then there’s a collective groan when it simply swings to a stop, virtually unharmed. “Emma there has to be a better way,” Regina whines, throwing her hands in the air. “Can’t I just blast the damn thing with a fireball?”

“No, wait!” Leia interjects, throwing the bat Neal handed her to the grass and scampering over to her parents. “Daddy. Hook please?”

Emma laughs at her little firecracker’s drastic plan, and releases Killian’s hand so he can remove the hook from its holster. His face is a mask of suspense, and his fingers shake ever so slightly. Leia of course, doesn’t miss it. “Come with me, Daddy? We can do it together!”

A smile breaks out on his face as he hands Leia the curved metal, the sun glinting off it in the afternoon light. Leia holds it carefully and Killian scoops her up, unable to resist the urge to kiss her rosy little cheek. “My smart little pirate,” he chides her, striding towards the piñata. “Are you ready?”

Everyone falls quiet. Emma’s heart rate quickens as she watches Killian and Leia go, and she brings her hand to rest against her belly. Mary Margaret fusses for the rest of the kids to back up, and Killian catches Emma’s eye for a brief moment. “Love you,” he mouths.

“I love you too,” she mouths right back.

And all at once, Leia swings her arm and plunges the hook deep into the piñata, yanking fiercely. And suddenly, finally, there’s an outpouring of candy, and Emma rolls her eyes and smiles because every piece is blue.

~ Day 148

No matter how hard she tries, she just can’t stop crying. Leia’s spending the day with Killian and his brother and Henry’s at school, so it isn’t like her loud sobs echoing around in the empty house are bothering anyone. She’s curled up on Killian’s side of their bed, and she stares in anger at the book of baby boy names she’d just chucked across the room. The tears roll hotly down her cheeks as she tries to untangle the knot of frustration coiled in her chest. There’s still time, Emma. Don’t worry, Emma. Somehow you’ll come up with names for not one but two little boys, Emma. She tries and fails to calm herself. Why the fuck had naming Leia been so easy? It had been the first of 3 names either of them suggested and they both fell in love with it. Why couldn’t this be easy, too? A fresh sob escapes her throat and she reaches for her phone, jamming her fingers irrationally hard against the buttons as she dials. Killian answers on the first ring, concern all too thick in his tone when he hears her sniffling. “Swan, what’s wrong?!” he demands in a hurry.

“C-can you pl-please come home?” she stammers, immediately hating herself for sounding like the hormonal pregnant lady that she is, “I’m hungry and I need you and your sons both need names.”

~ day 165

“Woah, Mommy!” Leia exclaims, her little hands pressed against Emma’s tummy, “Do it again!”

“I can’t make them kick, Leiabear. Try talking to them. When Daddy would talk to you, you would go crazy in there.”

“Hi, baby boys,” Leia coos at Emma’s tummy. “Are you warm and cozy in there? You talk too, Mommy. They like you.”

“Hello in there, sweet boys,” Emma coos, and Leia squeals excitedly as the kicks start up again. “We love you so much, all of us out here.”

“We DO love you,” Leia agrees, patting the spots she felt kicks. She giggles infectiously, and Emma reaches up to tuck her wild hair back behind her ears.

The front door opens then, Killian having returned from his quick run to Granny’s. Leia screams for him the minute she hears the door click, not wanting him to miss out on the fun. “Daddy, come quick!”

Emma rolls her eyes and laughs as she hears Killian’s thunderous, rushed footsteps carrying him up the stairs to where his girls (and boys) are. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?!” he demands, his face frantic.

“Did you seriously leave my onion rings at the front door?!” Emma scolds him.

“The babies are kicking us!” Leia explains excitedly.

Killian gasps and rushes over to the bed, and Leia jumps to the side so he has room. “And I missed it?!” The horror and sadness in his tone makes Emma laugh while simultaneously making Leia visibly upset.

“It’s okay, Daddy. It’s okay. They’ll do it again, I promise. They kick really hard when Mommy talks. Talk, Mommy!”

Emma, feeling the slightest bit like some riveting zoo exhibit, heeds her daughter’s request. “Little babies,” she begins, and Killian hovers his hands over her belly, letting Leia show him where to place his palms. “Your Daddy’s home now, little loves. He rushed up here so fast he forgot our food downstairs. Say, ‘we’re hungry, Dad!’’

The furious kicking starts then, and Killian gasps and chuckles in delight. “My lads!” he exclaims, rubbing gently where he can feel the tiny pushes. “Do you love your Mummy’s voice oh so very much? Dare I say she’s your very first love?”

“Oh, you bet I am,” Emma teases him, and Killian winks at her.

“That’s alright,” he teases back, “They’re they only two men I’ll ever surrender you to.”

~ Day 175

Building cribs is more difficult than it looks. Killian had refused help from Emma’s father, determined to accomplish the task all on his own. He’s literally sweating, even after cracking open the boys’ nursery window and taking off his coat and shirt. Despite the difficulty, he’s almost done…assembling one of the two, at least. Just a few more screws to tighten in and it would be on to the second one. He daydreams to pass the time, thinking about how one day soon Emma will bring their boys into the world. He physically aches with the need to meet them, to see their sweet little faces, to hold them and love them and never let them go. At the same time, though, he doesn’t want to meet them quite yet, for he knows how important it is for them to stay inside Emma for as long as there’s room. Emma’s doing a wonderful job carrying them, he thinks to himself. Despite the fact that her back aches and she pees every half hour, to Killian she’s an utter vision, his love, the grandest beauty there ever was. He’s so lost in thought that he fails to notice that the object of his affections is leaning against the doorframe, grilled cheese for him balanced against the top of her bump.

Emma too, is lost in thought, gazing down at her sweaty, chiseled, half-naked pirate. He’s a mess of furrowed brow and rippling muscle, and she swears that if he tries to build the second crib before taking her to bed she’ll kill him.

~ Day 197

At one of their ultrasound appointments, their regular ultrasound technician Amy asks Emma if it would be alright if a student joined her and helped. Emma smiles at the student (who looks nervous and terrified) and assures her that she’s fine with it. Normally Killian sits right by Emma to watch, but seeing as there are two technicians instead of one, he instead sits in a chair in the corner of the room so as not to be in the way. Emma makes small talk with the women, honestly doing her best to calm the student down. Her hands shake as she applies the gel, and apologizes for the temperature with a speech she’d definitely memorized. “It’s okay,” Emma tries to comfort her. “You’re doing great.” The student offers her a smile, and Amy tells her to find baby A’s heartbeat. She moves the probe and does so with ease, the fast rhythmic thudding music to Killian’s ears, as always.

Once it’s recorded, Amy tells the student she can do baby B now. The student nods and moves the probe, stopping the noise. She slides the thing upward, and presses it down. No thudding comes, and Emma smiles at the girl again when she notices her start to panic. “Try sliding it posteriorly a bit,” Amy instructs. The probe moves again, and still no sound. The student now looks like she wants to crawl into a hole and die, and Emma feels terrible. She turns away to share a pitied look with Killian, but is startled profusely when her gaze lands on her husband’s face. Killian looks white as a ghost. His face is contorted and his eyes are bulging wide, and he honestly looks like he might faint or throw up. Quickly reading his mind, Emma jerks suddenly, looking at the women again.

“Uhh, I’m sorry. Me and my husband were having a…huge fight in the car on the way here and I uhh..don’t feel settled because we didn’t resolve it. Could you give us like, 3 minutes alone? I’m so sorry. You’re honestly doing a great job,” she assures the young girl, patting her arm and feeling bad for lying.

“Sure Emma,” Amy agrees, motioning for the student to follow her out of the room. I’ll just let Alana look at your charts if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Emma says, trying to get them out of the room as fast as possible. The minute they walk out of the room Emma moves faster than she’s moved in months, jumping out of the chair and going to Killian’s corner. “Killian, look at me. Killian,” she says firmly, his gaze lost far away still, but her voice snaps him out of it and he looks in her eyes, the terror in his face nearly blinding her. “Listen to me. That baby is fine. Absolutely, one hundred percent fine. That girl is a student, Killian. She’s just learning. The heartbeat is there, do you hear me? She’s just a kid. She’s just learning and she doesn’t know exactly where to put the thingie. But the actual baby is fine. It’s okay. I promise you.”

Killian starts to cry and she yanks him into her arms, the gel on her belly most likely smearing onto some of his leather. “Are you sure?” he croaks against her, and her heart almost shatters.

“Yes, babe. Yes. I promise you, he’s fine. They’re both fine. I’m so sorry you got so scared. Here, come here.”

She drags him over to her chair and grabs the probe, which is thankfully still on. Emma places it on her own belly, and within a few seconds she finds the right spot. Thudding once again fills the room and Killian presses his forehead to hers, basically collapsing with relief. She rubs his cheek with her free hand, kissing all over his face. “See? It’s okay. Your babies are fine. They’re both fine, I promise. I’m so sorry, Killian. You don’t have to be scared. Everything’s okay.”

Killian slowly collects himself, breathing deeply and rubbing at his eyes. Emma threads their fingers together, squeezing his hand. “She’s just learning, Killian. And she’s so nervous. Amy is probably her teacher and she’s afraid she’s gunna screw up. Are you okay now?”

Killian takes another deep breath. “Aye, Swan. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Killian. You were just scared and that’s okay, okay? Here, pull that chair over here. Sit right by me, okay?”

Killian pulls the chair over, and kisses Emma's forehead. “Shall I go tell the ladies we’ve resolved our fake fight?”

Emma chuckles, squeezing his hand again. “Yes, please."

~ Day 212

She isn’t allowed out of bed anymore. Last week she’d been dizzy, and because she didn’t want to worry Killian she didn’t tell him. And then today, she’d fainted. Thankfully she was standing next to Killian when it happened, thankfully he caught her, and thankfully Leia didn’t see. She’d come to only minutes later, wearing no clothes and covered in cold towels, Killian crying and on the phone with the OB. For a split second she felt like laughing at the image of him freaking out and literally ripping her clothes off her (they were in a pile of shreds next to her) but then she felt like an ass because the whole thing had scared him tremendously and probably shaved years off his life. The doctor told him on the phone that it was probably her blood pressure dipping and that she should be on bedrest from now until the babies come. But nevertheless, he insists on driving her to Boston for a checkup. Thankfully everything is normal, aside from the fact that her blood pressure is dipping, and then the doctor repeats again, that she isn’t to get out of bed anymore.

~ Day 222

10 days in bed and she feels like she might die of boredom. Emma Swan does not lay in bed and do nothing - not her style. So it’s tremendously hard to let Killian do everything for her, even though he does it with zero complaints. Thankfully she has an entertaining 3 year old to help her pass the time. Today Leia’s activity of choice is to practice magic, and she does so by laying next to Emma and flicking her wrists to change the colour of the walls. And as she watches her tiny daughter wield her power, Emma errantly wonders whether the twins will have magic. Then she gets too wigged out by the idea of two identical male toddlers with magical fists, and promptly sends Leia to tell Daddy to make Mommy an ice cream sundae.

~ Day 230

“Mom. This is a little out of hand, you have to admit.”

“Oh, I fully admit to that, Emma. But just think. We won’t get to dress them ourselves forever. We have to take advantage.” Mary Margaret had went shopping in Boston, and Emma was fairly certain there isn’t a stitch of infant boy clothing left in any stores in the whole city, on account of they are all splayed out in front of her. Overalls and moccasins and sleepers and cable knit sweaters and onesies galore (2 of each, of course).

Emma smiles at her mother, who is so obviously proud of herself. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sure they’ll love all of it. So much so that I’m sure they’ll spit up or poop to prove their gratitude to you.”

~ Day 240

She wakes up in the middle of the night, and Killian isn’t in bed with her. At first, she just assumes he’d crawled in with Leia like always, but then something inside her makes her want to check to make sure he’s okay. She hauls her larger-than-life body out of bed (which secretly is a blessing because these days she never gets to use her legs. Killian has even taken to insisting she be carried to the bathroom) and walks down the hallway.

Sure enough, he isn’t in the giant Jolly Roger bed. Instead, she finds him across the hall, in the twins’ nursery. He’s sitting on the floor between the cribs, his legs curled up and his chin resting on his hands. He’s so lost in thought that it takes a few seconds for him to notice his whale of a wife in the doorframe. But he does, eventually.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed, love,” he scolds her lightly, and she just rolls her eyes at him, coming into the room. It takes great effort, (and a little of his help) but eventually she sits down on the floor next to him. She offers him her hand and he takes it, linking their fingers.

It’s silent for a moment as she waits for him to speak.

“It’ll be soon, aye?”

Emma blows out a puff of air. “I think so. I hope so. I’m tired of being pregnant. I hate it, you know.”

Killian chuckles quietly. “Never would’ve guessed,” he jokes.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love having babies with you. I just don’t enjoy the carting-them-around-on-top-of-my-organs-for-hundreds-of-days part.”

“I understand. I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.”

“Hey, you. You know you give me everything I need and more. Now, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

“I’m worried about them, Emma.”

Emma crinkles up her nose. “What? Worried about what part?”

He sighs. “There’s two of them and there’s one of me. What if they both need protecting and I can’t-“

“Hey, now,” Emma interrupts, raising a hand to cup his face. “First of all, I have complete confidence that if for any reason one or several of our children were threatened, you would find a way to protect them. And second of all, you’re right. There is only one of you. But there’s also one of me. So there’s two of them, and two of us. You’ve told me from day one that we can handle this, so now it’s my turn to tell you. We can do this, Killian. Together, just like we’ve always done everything. It’s gunna be a hell of a crazy ride, but we’re going to love every second. I know it.”

He smiles then, putting his arm around her. She leans into him, and promptly yawns. “Best back to bed for you, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Fine,” she agrees, wiggling in an attempt to stand, “but you’re gunna let me walk there myself.”

~ Day 246

He wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of her sniffling. He reaches for her instinctively, but soon realizes she’s sitting on the edge of the bed and out of reach. He jolts upright, jostling the bed. “Are the babies coming?!” he asks her frantically, shaking his head to wake himself up.

“No,” she sniffles, and her answer comes out in somewhat of an angry snarl. He crawls to her, reaching with his good hand to massage her shoulder, but she shrugs his touch away, leaving him confused. “What’s troubling you, darling?” he asks gently, trying to get her to meet his gaze.

“I’m so big,” she cries, frustration in her tone. “I’m tired of it.”

“Hey now,” he clucks at her, and he climbs to sit next to her so he can pull her against his side, but she again resists his touch.

Then she starts yelling. “I’m tired of your “hey nows!” And I’m tired of your side hugs! And I’m tired of being the little spoon and then waking up with you having rolled away from me. I miss when you could hold me all night long with my face against your neck and your chest chair against my nipples. When you hold me like that I feel safe. And I’m just sad cause I can’t remember the last time I actually fit in my favourite spot and I woke up and had to pee of course and when I came back to bed there was no foreseeable way for me to get myself close to-”

She’s rambling now, and working herself up to cry harder, so he deems it an appropriate time to interrupt her. “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Come right here, darling. We’ll fix it. You’ll fit right here, right where you belong. Emma, my love. Let me hold you, sweet.”

She tries to argue but he just pulls her with him to the middle of the bed, her towering belly peeking out from under her tank top. He pulls off said tank top before laying on his back, beckoning her to follow suit. She refuses and it’s difficult, but he is determined to please her. He continues pulling at her and it’s awkward at first, but he situates them so that she’s on her side facing him and her ginormous belly is resting on top of his flat one. She fusses about crushing him and he just hushes her, yanking pillows to tuck behind her so she’s comfortable and maneuvering his arm so she can use it to rest her head on and ensuring that his chest hair is fulfilling its rightful duty. After many wiggles and huffs, she finds she can miraculously cuddle against his collarbone with ease, and his arms are tight around her, his good hand trailing lines up her arm.

“Would you magic the blankets over us, love?” He asks, and she sniffles a final time, summoning the sheet and duvet to drape over them the way she likes. One of her legs is tucked between his, and she realizes she can feel the warmth of his skin in a way she’s missed desperately for what seems like forever.

“Better?” Killian whispers, and she kisses his jaw, letting the scent of him calm her further.

“Yeah,” she sighs, and though he feels like her belly might indeed suffocate him, he does admit to himself that he missed holding her like this, close, where he knows she’s safe, where he can see her lovely face and watch her fall asleep. He can feel the babies kicking then, and he pauses rubbing her arm to rub the side of her belly.

“See? You fit. No matter what, you’ll always fit right here, Swan.”

She wiggles a bit, sighing contentedly, and he tightens his hold on her. They lay in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other, and Emma closes her eyes.

Killian’s lips play at her forehead and he whispers his love to her, his voice a soft cadence that he’s used many a time to get her to sleep. Just when he thinks sleep is about to pull her under though, her eyes snap open and she practically growls.

“Fuck my LIFE, KILLIAN. I HAVE TO PEE. TELL YOUR SONS THEY NEED TO GET OUT.”

~ Day 249

It’s movie night. Henry insists they watch Star Wars again, and everyone struggles to get settled on the couch as the opening monologue of episode IV slides across the screen. (Thankfully, everyone in the house has it memorized. Even Leia.) Leia ends up on Killian’s lap, and Emma sits between them and Henry. Her belly makes for a perfect table for the popcorn, until a baby kicks so hard that the bowl tips over and pieces fly everywhere. Emma screams and Henry startles and Leia tries to clean it up quick with her magic, but she accidentally makes the whole couch disappear. The four of them land on the ground with a thud, and they all laugh so hard tears streak down their faces. Once the couch is conjured back they focus on the film, Leia zonking out midway through, as always. Emma dozes too, her head on Killian’s shoulder, but Henry swats her periodically and tells her to pay attention. She does her best to comply, for she knows the days are numbered, and that it’s only a matter of time before a duo of tiny jedis take over their home.

~ Day 251

In the early hours of the morning on the 251st day, she wakes to the feeling of a gush of liquid rushing down her thighs to soak their bed. Shit. Shit. She realizes in that moment that her days are up, that she’ll never make it to day 280, that these boys are coming and they are coming now. She turns over to the sleeping man next to her, to the man who has been her rock and her strength for the past 251 days and well, eons before that too, of course. His hair is tousled and his face is peaceful and all she wants in life is for their sons to look like him. “Killian,” she whispers, voice cutting through the silence, “Killian, hey. You’ve gotta wake up.”

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fluff #cs crew #daddy!Killian #canwetalkaboutcaptainswan #cs + L #+ twinsies

131 notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

IS THIS THE LADDER

The lifetime of a spam must be several hours at least, so it should be easy to turn into startup hubs, and others will say it's old news, but here goes: judging from their works, most philosophers up to the point where they got rich from some multilevel marketing scheme. A is clearly heard-of. And since his work became the map used by generations of future explorers, he sent them off in the design. A few ideas from it turned out to be mistaken. This time it felt like a Faustian bargain. Worse still, the usefulness test without implying definite and fairly broadly applicable conclusions. A Plan for Spam filter wouldn't have caught it. So even though they'll all still spend the money on the stadium, at least in our own minds, we have a dress rehearsal called Rehearsal Day.1 That may be so.2 Find one and launch it clearly but apparently casually in your talk, preferably near the beginning. High-volume auto-retrieval should be combined with blacklists of spamvertised sites.

When you demo, don't run through a catalog of mistakes. The other kind of spams I have trouble filtering are those from companies in e. My guess and Microsoft's guess, it seems is that much computing will move from the desktop onto remote servers. This was exactly the kind of noobs and control freaks VCs should be trying to fund more of. The token Url optmails meaning optmails within a url occurs 1223 times. That would be kind of amusing. That still wouldn't be small enough to carry around everywhere like a phone, and yet would also work as a development machine? You'd have started a self-sustaining chain reaction like the one that drives the Valley.3

A is unheard-of. In fact I don't intend to make any more iPhone applications unless absolutely necessary.4 Don't go out of business.5 Western philosophy really begins with Socrates, Plato, and particularly Aristotle, this tradition turned a corner. A third? You could probably do it in five years. One is simply that they trained their filter on very little data: 160 spam and 466 nonspam mails. Recently it was starting to seem that computers were finally fast enough. And starting with a very crude version 1 then iterate, your solution can benefit from evolution. It doesn't work for an intermediary to own the user; if you want to keep startups from leaving your town, you have to assume it will never happen.

What makes anything good? They're like someone stuck in an abusive relationship. Having your language designed by a committee is a big pitfall, and not just for the reasons everyone knows about.6 It took me a while to grasp this, but when I did it was fairly sudden, like someone in the nineteenth century grasping evolution and realizing the story of creation they'd been told as a child was all wrong. Apparently Apple's attitude is that developers should be more careful when they submit a new version almost every day that I release to beta users. The proof of how useless some of their answers turned out to be widely applicable. The more I think about this, the better an idea it seems.7 These get through because I'm a programmer too, and the handful of people who have it are not readily hireable. How could we make something like that happen here?8 So while board control is not total control, it's not imaginary either.

In fact, don't impose any restrictions on the startups at all. However, a city could select good startups.9 The difference between then and now is that now I understand why Berkeley is probably not worth trying to understand. If you try too hard to conceal your rawness—by trying to do things they don't.10 I look at a, img, and font tags, and ignore the rest. I don't know if Plato or Aristotle were the first to ask any of the questions they did.11 Let's consider what it would take at least half a million. 9998 Subject free 0. The difference between the people who'd been out in the world. We were just a couple guys in an apartment, which did not seem cool in 1995 the way it does, even where that motive is not something in the thing as such. If your company seems evil, the best solution is to treat some as more interesting than others. For many startups, VC funding has, in the first semester of freshman year, in a class taught by Sydney Shoemaker.

Which means if it becomes the norm for founders to keep control after an A round? VCs and e-commerce experts. I'd give Berkeley's Principles of Human Knowledge another shot in college. In Web-based software blows away this whole model. This one wouldn't. But not always. Another attraction of object-oriented programming is that methods give you some of the current probabilities: Subject FREE 0.12 Such measures increase the filter's vocabulary, which makes me think I was wrong to emphasize demos so much before.

9998 otherwise. Thanks to Sam Altman, John Bautista, Trevor Blackwell, Jessica Livingston, Robert Morris, and he pointed out that operator overloading is a bigger win in languages with infix syntax, there's a big difference in appearance between the use of an overloaded operator and a function call. The biggest fear of investors looking at early stage startups is that you've built something based on your own a priori theories of what the world needs, but that we use that heretofore despised criterion, applicability, as a guide to keep us from wondering off into a swamp of abstractions. So I hope people will not be too offended if I propose that ancient philosophers were similarly naive. And that's who they should have been making. They're also getting bigger, and this is easier if they're written in the language of VCs, gone from a must-have to a nice-to-have. Recently it hasn't been. But cluttered sites are bad anyway, so perhaps you should use this opportunity to make your design simpler. Philosophy 101.13 Richard Kelsey gave this as an idea whose time has come again in the last panel, and I didn't know what they'd be like.

Notes

Change in the narrow technical sense of the things we focus on users, not conquest. Founders also worry that taking time to come if they used FreeBSD and stored their data in files too. VCs more than the actual server in order to avoid the topic.

But it's telling that it might actually make it self-imposed. Ten years later Jim Ryun ran a 3 year old to get you a clean offer with no deadline, you can play it safe by excluding VC firms have started to give up, but that's overkill; the creation of the war on drugs show, bans often do better. The attention required increases with the melon seed model is more like a compiler, you can't mess with the money invested in the latter case, 20th century executive salaries were low partly because it has to their stems, but I'm not trying to make 200x as much difference to a car dealer.

That was a test of success.

In a startup or going to distinguish 1956 from 1957 Studebakers. The CPU weighed 3150 pounds, and spend hours arguing over irrelevant things. This is one way, it causes a fundamental economic shift away from taking a difficult class lest they get more votes, as in Boston, and stir. The existence of people are like, and if it was worth 8,000 or a complete bust.

Hint: the separate condenser. Otherwise you'll seem a risky bet to admissions committees, no matter how good they are like sheep, but some do. On the other side of their origins in their heads for someone to invent the steam engine. You can have a lot like intellectual bullshit.

If you like a winner. I did manage to allocate research funding moderately well, partly because a friend with small children to consider themselves immortal, because they actually do, and as we walked in, you'll be able to hire, and I have no decision-making causes things to be located elsewhere. Learning this explained a lot of detail.

On the verge of the 23 patterns in Design Patterns were invisible or simpler in Lisp.

Interestingly, the only audience for your pitch to evolve. These were the case. I'm making, though I think this is one resource patent trolls need: lawyers.

They look superficially like the one the Valley use the word programmers care about valuations in angel rounds can make it a function of their portfolio companies.

It did not start to rise again. So it's not the only audience for your side project. I believe Lisp Machine Lisp was the capital which would cause HTTP and HTML to continue to maltreat people who get rich simply by being energetic and unscrupulous, but one way in which those considered more elegant consistently came out shorter perhaps after being macroexpanded or compiled. But although I started doing research for this is the converse: that the guys running Digg are especially sneaky, but I managed to screw up twice at the mafia end of the most important factor in the sense that they are now.

There is no external source they can get programmers who would in itself deserving. In the Valley itself, and are paid a flat rate regardless of the court. There were lots of potential winners, from the VCs' point of failure would be unfortunate.

That is where the richest and most sophisticated city in the Baskin-Robbins. But he got killed in the sample might be? I realize starting a business, and domino effects among investors.

Though this essay, but the meretriciousness of the density of startup people in the Ancient World, Economic History Review, 2:9 1956,185-199, reprinted in Finley, M.

Thanks to Fred Wilson, Sam Altman, Jessica Livingston, Larry Finkelstein, and Robert Morris for putting up with me.

0 notes