#(i still really enjoy the process of folding and sorting though i don't get around to it quickly)

[dredshirtroberts]

y'know. i don't often hate the way my brain is and how difficult it makes certain things for me.

i do a little today though.

[ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm]

I’m sort of unfairly venting at you but you’re one of the few people I follow who has been posting MCR stuff and I also want to be really excited for it all because I spent many years of my adolescence loving them. But my best friend as a teen was really awful to me and MCR was our thing and I can’t help but associate them with her. I will always love them but that ex-friend who wasn’t really my friend of course, bullied me and took advantage of me and tried to make my life hell when I didn’t submit to her manipulation. The good memories I have of this person usually have to do with MCR. It’s been many years but I still feel like she tainted my love for the band because even those good memories circle back to the bad. I just want to enjoy MCR again without her being on my mind whenever I listen to them. Again I’m sorry for venting at you out of the blue. You seem so lovely and like someone who is probably a really great friend. You don’t have to respond, just typing it out into a void is helping me process it some more I think

Hi anon! Thank you for sharing this experience with me. I'm very sorry this person ruined - or came close to ruining - something special for you and I'm sorry that they didn't treat you well.

When I was very young I got into what would eventually turn into my longest relationship ever. Like I'm sure a lot of relationships of other myopic cerebral teens, it prominently centered around music. In a disgustingly pretentious, mu-core, last.fm weekly listening chart, basement gigs and latest disks from japan sort of way. I wasn't doing very well the first time we got together, though - and neither were they, but I think it was their disposition that was affecting me so much. One of the first bands I associated with this person was the Jesus and Mary Chain, specifically Psychocandy but also their other records. For some reason - and this was in the bleak, wet, mid 2000s continental winter - I could feel this person's strange growing resentment for me, their own apathy and dissatisfaction with life, their resignation. And all of that culminated in me developing this very strange physical reaction to JAMC! When I think about it now, it's still not funny, but: I would actively start to get nauseous within a few seconds of any of their songs. Now, JAMC make very rumbly shoegaze and the vocals sound sort of like someone yelling at you from a tunnel in Glasgow through the folds of time, so it really could have just been that they're my own brand of brown noise and that that's why it made me want to lose my lunch, but - whatever, it was still a big, weird thing. This would happen even if I listened to them accidentally, even if I thought about the melodies a lot, anything.

A very long time after all of that, I left my house on a burning hot summer day and as I was leaving my courtyard, I clicked on Honey's Dead on my phone. I don't know why I did, it may have been an accident, but in the time I crossed the tiny street from my house to the sidewalk on the other side, that stupid nauseous feeling came, my stomach lurched, and then- nothing. It just sort of settled at the top of my throat, a little, and as I was walking in this bright noon sun, I realized I could handle that feeling. I could bring it with me, until the next crosswalk, until the next turn. And as I made my way aimlessly through the city, every song would push that choking feeling down until eventually I just - swallowed it. And it was gone. Years of weird gentle torture, years of having to literally run out of films that had their songs in the soundtrack or bars that decided it was that kind of night, all gone now.

Why am I telling you about all this - not to draw any parallels with your own lasting discomfort around MCR, but to say: I think our relationships with people complicate our relationships with stuff, because we give periods and people in our lives ownership of the things we're engaging with at the time. And of course everything in life is people first, what else could it be? But, in the absence of the offending relationship, it might be worth considering that you can start over with this thing you love. That you can have a separate relationship lead only by your own heart, because things are just there waiting for you to decide what they are.

I hope you find your way back to MCR without the weight of this, anon! A fun fresh start might be rewatching their doc, Life on The Murder Scene, because it makes you fall in love with them as individuals! Good luck 💗

[trashiewrites]

Promotion (Soap x Reader)

Word count: 2319

[Notes: I'm so happy to finally have finished this fic! I've been feeling on and off for a while. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also sorry I have really basic grammar so grammar might be shit.]

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Night lurked over the head of the men and women of the camp. You found yourself looking up to the sky for no particular reason. The stars of tonight shined brightly, they seemed almost hypnotic. You were out of it to not hear someone come by behind you. "Sky beautiful tonight ain't it?" You jumped up at the sudden voice, knowing it was the captain "sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!"

"It's fine captain...." you lightly chucked as splashes of red-tinted your cheeks. You've had a small feeling for the Scottish man. You've been denying it till recently. He's your CO but you know... at least shoot your shot. "Would you like to join me, captain?"

"I would love too" he sat down close next to you. A lovely grin from ear to ear as he stared at the stars too. "What do you see or get reminded of when you see the stars?" You hummed, placing a finger upon your chin as you thought. For a split second, you glanced at the captain...

"Well..." your heart raced at the thought of putting the notation of you liking someone out there. In the end, you chicken out of it. " I see possibilities! What about you sir?"

"They remind me of someone I deeply love." He chuckled as his gaze faced downward. "They don't quite know it yet though..."

"Whoever it is, they should count themselves lucky, sir." You nudged his shoulder, attempting to keep your cool, "you're an amazing person after all!"

"You really think so?" Soap laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. Though your chest showed this pang of jealousy. "Say... how about we head to the mess hall? Grab some dinner."

"Of course!" You yelped a tad too excitedly. Realizing that fact you tensed up and smiled nervously "um... Of course, captain..." the both of you stood and began to walk side to side. The walk itself was sweet and littered with small talk about anything. It could be training, people, or even gossip. Yet throughout the whole time you would glance over to the captain. Noticing small little details about him that made your heart slowly melt. His chiseled jaw, his deep blue eyes, the way he laughed and made others motivated. You loved every single thing about this man.

"I wonder what crap they'll give us today.." He held the tent's drapes open for you. "You first~" he mockingly bowed.

"Why thank you, captain!" You walk in after a small curtsy.

"You know you can call me John right? It's off-hours, so I don't mind." You paused in your tracks, processing the offer. You knew no one who ever called the Captain by his first. If anything you found the idea almost disrespectful to him.

"Are you sure sir?" You look at him with a look of pure confusion. He covered his mouth as a laugh leaked from it. Which by all means makes you even more confused.

"Yes, I'm sure. But just on off-hours, ya hear?" He smiled, lightly pushing your shoulder as he walked past you.

"Y-yes, sir!" You both went up getting your MREs. On the side, they had a package of tea bags, the water next to it respectfully. As well there is a brewer with a sign that reads coffee. You, being much more a tea person, gladly took a plastic cup and had your cup. John, on the other hand, had pure black coffee. As you sat down facing each other you could help but notice the stars in his eyes as he glanced at the coffee. If anything it was drop-dead adorable. As you both waited for the MREs to prepare themselves you decided to push what john told you earlier. "So John..." you coughed, hoping to release some on the nerves. He hummed back glancing down at you as he sipped his cup of dirty beans.

"Something on your mind (y/n)?"

"About that person, you talked about earlier. It-the one you love, can I ask more about them?" You glanced down, waiting to get scolded that it wasn't your place to know.

"Sure!"

"Sir, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked it definitely isn't-" you headshot to look at John as you realized the words that exited his mouth. "W-wait... really?"

"I mean, why not?" He smiled ever so innocently, "do you not want to know anymore?"

"It's not that... I just thought that's not really my place." You flash him a nervous smile as well a shrug of your shoulders. "But go on!" Your tone was almost eager, your heart yearned to hear this.

"Well.. she's a beautiful lass. Very strong-willed and kind." His face began to soften, you assume at the thought of the girl. "She just splendid to be around. She's smart, witty, and exceptional clueless..." he chuckled, facing off to the side.

"Do I know her?" You took a bit of your MRE. Which, by the way, was still piping hot. "Hot hot hot!!" You lightly banged the table as you swallowed through the pain. John smiled as he placed a hand upon his chin, pondering the question.

"I suppose you do, they are on the team." This caught you by surprise. You knew this person, and you trained with this person. The thought plagued your mind. Unaware of it, you were eerily silent as a checklist played through your head. John coughed, having taken bites from his meal, "look, you don't have to look further into it but if you do find out, I'll give you a promotion of sorts."

"A promotion? For something like this?"

"You'll see.." John smiled as he took his final bite. "Now I best be off, good luck." He stood, walking away from the table. Leaving you staring into the distance, dumbfounded. As you finished you knew that the other boys were up much later. Roach, for example, the man stays up all the time. Speed walking over to the barracks to see Roach outside on his phone.

"Gary! I have to ask you something!" He looked up and smiled sweetly.

"Sure! What could you need this late though?"

"Apparently the captain like one of the girls, do you have any idea who?" You spoke quietly as to not draw anyone else's attention. Roach was baffled at first at the weird question. Yet that baffled face soon became one that reads 'you can't be serious'.

"You are blind..."

"What do you mean?" You began to think it should be an obvious answer. But there are plenty of women as John described.

"Look... I don't know the captain personally enough to know for sure. But it's been kinda obvious for a while." Roach chuckled as his eyes returned to his phone, "I don't even think I have the balls to tell ya. How 'bout ask the lieutenant? He knows the captain like the back of his hand."

"Lieutenant Riley? Ghost? Do you know how weird that is? At least me and you, ya know, we are the same rank." You clutched your fist together, chills running down your spine at the thought.

"If I tell you, you probably, no, you WILL go ask the lieutenant anyways."

"Just tell me, Sanderson!" You grabbed the man, who is taller than you, by the collar of his shirt.

"It's you dumbass!" You stood there in silence. Some say your soul exited your body for a minute. Roach slowly moved your hands off his collar. "(Y/n)??"

"You're joking..." Roach shook his head. "Where is the lieutenant?"

"In the living quarter last I checked." Roach meekly voiced out, scared to once again get his collar grabbed. You walked in to see the lieutenant relaxing in the lounge area, his head in a newspaper. You quietly made your way over, as well as thinking of what the hell you would ask him. You found it painfully awkward to ask if your CO has a crush on you.

"You need something (y/n)?" He lowered his newspaper ever so slightly, his brown eyes staring coldly at you.

"Uh... y-yes I-I have a... question." You stared right back to him, the heat on your cheeks making you uncomfortable as hell.  He chuckled as he took one last look at his paper, folding it neatly. You could help but think did he already know you were coming here? I mean it wouldn't be surprising, due to the confrontation with Roach.

"Well, go ahead then. Ask away."  His  voice  seemed to mock you, not rudely of course. But it's as if he was teasing you.

"W-well sir, earlier this evening the captain g-gave me a challenge to... to.." you coughed the lump of nervousness in your throat was suffocating. As you once again open your mouth to speak the rest of your statement, Riley's deep voice chimed in.

"He dared you to find out who's he's crushing on, ya?" Your heart sunk down to your stomach. Of course he already knew... you feel the heat on your cheeks.

"Y-yes, sir... gosh this is embarrassing." You faced the ground, glancing up periodically.

"Well I'm assuming you want me to tell you who?"

"W-well sir, I originally asked Roach and well..." you coughed, trying your hardest to grow some balls, "He said it was me. I was just wonder if it t-true."

"I'll tell you two things alright?" You nodded as you took a seat across from him "one, he does. It's been quite obvious for a while. Two, he never shuts the fuck up about you.. god it comes to the point I hate being in a room alone with him."

"O-oh I-I"

"Just hurry up and get together already, that way he stops fucking going on about ya" you nodded did a 180 headed straight off.

"Y-Yes sir!!"

Just after, you sat at your bunk... you couldnt bring yourself to do it. Your mind was still processing it all in. Lieutenant Riley's word echoed in your ears. You yourself felt like you were floating, yet scared. "This must all be a dream, it too good to be true..." you pinched you arm, almost to the point of drawing blood. Eyes squint from the pain, and open to the same scenery as before. "What am I doing?" You stood and went to the mirror, slapping your cheeks. Squeezing your face together ever so slightly, "get yourself together (y/n), this could be the once chance!" You confidently went to the door. "Captain quarters are far... it shouldnt be difficult at all." You walked out briskly, closing the door quietly behind you.

You made steady pace to the captain quarters. You tried your hardest to keep your cool, you werent sure if it was working. Then again, it's rather late there really isnt many people around. You stood in front of the door. You have never been more scared of a door before.  You took a step forward, a deep breath, curling your hand to knock of the door. Before you could even knock the door opened and there stood the captain. "Oh (y/n), what got you out here so late at night?"

"I-I just N-needed..." your body shivered of nervousness, of course he would open the door right before you were ready!

"Look at you..." he spoke softly, grasping lightly at your shoulder. Placing another hand in the open air. "You're shivering like a you've been in the cold for awhile, come in." He slowly leads you in, even if you were at all cold (which you weren't) the heat from your face could probably keep you alive. You look up to him offering a cup of hot tea.

"Captain... I-im not cold..." you took the cup, taking in the aroma of the tea. "but I do appreciate the drink." It was calming actually.

"If you ain't cold, does that mean you're nervous? By what in god name has god cha nervous?" You place the tea upon the coffee table. You knew he was staring at you, yet you could stare back. Rubbing your arm shyly, a small cough to clear your throat. "Oh.... it's that challenge ain't it?"

You nodded, slowly lifting your head to see him. His expression was almost eager, perhaps hopeful? He held his own hands, twiddling with his own thumb. "C-Captain..."

"Please... Call me John." It was almost as he was begging just like a puppy. It took you by surprise but it's what you could atleast do.

"Okay, John," you chuckled. Cracking a small little smirk, butterflies already flying everywhere within you. "I-I like you too, I have for a while. Gosh, saying "like" is just an understatement. I've loved you for a while." You exhaled deeply, the weight in your chest seemingly lifted. John stood, sitting next to you. Wrapping you into a tight embrace.

"Congrats, (y/n). Are you ready for that promotion?" He spoke softly into your ear. Hunger, yearning plagued the tones of his voice.

"J-John what exactly is this promotion?" You moved his head back, cupping his cheeks. He smirked devilishly, slowly moving to cover your own cheeks.

"Well, of course. You're gonna be promoted to my girlfriend~" as he finished his sentence in a deep husky voice. He planted his lips upon yours, holding you close. It was heavenly, you didnt want it to end. His taste was hypnotic, sweet, hungry and full of passion and love. Time seemed to slow down and you couldnt care. Yet reality hit back always too soon. You two separate panting, staring longingly into eachothers eyes. "G-God I waited so long to do that..."

You panted quietly, holding your hand to his cheek. You sat and admired this moment, this moment will never happen again. "Well... I hope the wait was worth it." You laughed, pulling his head closer. Gifting him a small peck upon his nose.

"Oh definitely princess, definitely."

[nebulousfishgills]

Yours

Request by: Anonymous - Can I do an anonymous request for a Loki x reader where he returns to the reader after a few years and he is surprised to see that she has a child, but it turns out it is his child he didn’t know about.

Thanks for the request! I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Mild angst, I guess?

ฯฯฯ

"How was school today, (D/N)?" You asked, carefully looking at your five year old daughter in the rear-view mirror. She looked at you with her bright green eyes and a wide grin. Her front tooth was missing, the beginnings of her new tooth starting to poke out from her gums.

"Good! We read a Curious George book and talked about colors!" Your daughter said enthusiastically.

You smiled, crinkling your tired eyes. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"I like yellow."

"Yellow's a very pretty color."

You turned into your neighborhood, scanning the street signs to find yours. It was a brief moment of quiet before (D/N) spoke again.

"Miss Amy also said Parents Day is soon. She sent this home for you to look at." She said.

You only slightly paled at your daughter's words as you pulled into the driveway and took the envelope from (D/N)'s hands. Parents Day was a day in mid September where the parents could come into the class and their child could show them what they were learning. They could ask questions to the teacher about how the children were being taught.

"It's on Friday? At noon?" You half asked to yourself. Gently, you turned around in your seat to face your daughter with a sad smile. "(D/N), I have to work that day. I don't think I can go."

(D/N) frowned and slightly slumped in her seat.

"You can never go to anything." She sighed. It crushed you to see her so sad.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I've already missed too many days for when you or I get sick. I can take you out for frozen yogurt that afternoon, though. Would that be okay?" You asked, biting your lip.

"I guess. I wish Daddy were here." (D/N) sighed.

"Me too, kiddo." You said, getting out of the car and shutting the door. She followed suit, dragging her Minnie Mouse backpack on the pavement behind her. "Me too."

You had seen the other parents' glances whenever you dropped (D/N) off at kindergarten in the morning. It was mostly mothers who dropped off their kids, so you coming in alone wasn't totally abnormal. Though it was like High School all over again: cliques of girls whispering about you in groups of three or four while glancing at you with pursed lips. Being a single parent was the abnormal thing. Your town was small, so gossip spread like wildfire.

"...Got knocked up by some foreign guy."

"...Left her to pursue an art career."

"...He left town as soon as she told him he was pregnant."

You honestly didn't know how some of those rumors spread. People's imaginations were limitless, you figured. Well, the detail about the father being "some foreign guy" wasn't too far off. But you couldn't really say the father was an actual god, they'd think you were crazy for sure. So, you let the rumors spread and eventually they had less and less effect on you. The side glances didn't exactly make you feel good, though.

You entered the small house, following (D/N) inside. She put her backpack on the hook and sat at the kitchen table.

"Do you want something to eat?" You asked. She nodded and you went to rummage around in the pantry for something. (D/N) wasn't particularly picky about her snacks. You settled on a half empty bag of pretzel sticks and poured some into a bowl. (D/N) took it and started to go up the stairs. "Remember, clean up your crumbs."

Once you heard her door close, you pulled a (favorite soda/seltzer) out of the fridge and sat at the table, resting your head in your hand with a sigh. You wanted to go to the parent night, you really did. But it wasn't worth risking your job over. Your boss already made it hard for you because she knew your situation. She was the type of person who believed in marriage before children and gave you your work with a slightly disgusted glance every day. This was your life, and the sooner you accepted that, the better.

There was a quick knock at the front door that shook you out of your thoughts. Sighting, you stood up to get it. You hoped it wasn't your nosy neighbor, always offering to babysit (D/N) because "there's only one you and I can make it easier." She always asked for a ridiculously high payment that you couldn't afford along with the offer. Luckily, you had most of the weekends off and (D/N) went to full day kindergarten on the weekdays.

"For the last time, Donna, I don't need your charity babysi-" you started as you opened the door, but abruptly cut yourself off. It wasn't your neighbor, or your mom that brought you pies sometimes, or the Amazon guy for that matter.

"Loki?" You asked, eyes wide. Sure enough, there was your estranged ex boyfriend. He nervously picked at the pilling green sweater he wore, barely meeting your eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I... Well..." Loki stuttered, biting his lip. You sighed and opened the door wider.

"Get in and pull yourself together." You said cooly. Loki nodded as he slowly entered the house, sitting on the edge of the sofa like there were needles poking out of the back cushion. You sat down next to him with your arms folded.

"I'm sure you're very angry with me." Loki started.

"What gave you that impression? My folded arms, my tone, or the fact that you've been gone for five years?" You snapped.

"(Y/N), I can explain-"

"You left me, Loki. In the middle of the night, no explanation. Just a note on the pillow saying that you love me and how much it hurt that you just had to leave right then. You didn't think that maybe explaining it to me when I was awake would be a better idea? No, because you just had me wake up the next morning with no you and a half assed note. So, yeah, I'm angry!" You yelled, not even trying to hold back.

"I know, and I'm so sorry. It's just... I was scared-" Loki tried to apologize.

"Scared? Of what? Loving a mortal? I thought that it didn't matter to you." Your tone started to form into a more hurt one than anything.

"No, it's not that." Loki said.

"Well, then what is it?"

"I was scared for you, your safety. I've done wrong in the past, my darling, and I've had people hunting for me, bad people. I didn't want you to get swept up in it. That was part of the reason why I left. But I wanted to figure out how to fix it. I always intended to come back, but not until I was sure we were safe." Loki explained. You sat in silence, considering his words.

"Well, you can't expect to be able to waltz back into my life like nothing happened." You said in a tone that probably didn't fit the words you were saying. A sympathetic tone with harsh words.

"I didn't expect to."

"Mama, I heard you yelling.... Mama, who is that?" You jumped at the sound of your daughter having come back down the stairs. You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words.

"Uh... Well..." You spluttered. "He's..."

"Have I been gone long enough for you to find the comfort of another man?" Loki didn't sound angry, rather he sounded sad.

"No, there's been no one else. (D/N), come here please." You said. Timidly, the little girl climbed into your lap and watched the strange new man intently. "(D/N), this is your daddy."

Both Loki and (D/N) looked at you in surprise.

"I found out a week after you left. She's your daughter. She has your eyes." You said shyly. "She's yours."

(D/N) took a second to process the information before giggling. She lept out of your lap and into Loki's arms. He caught her with an "uff" from the impact. He looked at the little girl carefully and did notice her eyes were the same shade of green as his. He felt a sort of familial bond with her as she hugged him tightly.

"Now that you're here, Mama can go to Parents Night!" She said enthusiastically.

"(D/N), slow down, he just got here." You laughed. "And we still have to figure things out. I still work, you know."

"Oh, right. Well, at least I have a daddy now!"

"If you'll have me back?" Loki asked you. You looked from Loki to the daughter you shared clutching him like a koala bear. You sighed and smiled. (D/N) needed her father, more than you wanted to admit. And you still loved him more than you wanted to admit.

"I can't forgive you right away, but we can build it back up." You agreed. "But in the future, just talk to me, okay?"

"Of course, my darling." Loki said, kissing your temple lightly.

ฯฯฯ

Hope you enjoyed this, Nonnie!

Requests are open! Rules and characters are on the pinned post on my profile!

[kassandra-lorelei]

Hey! I don't know if you still do these but would you be able to write an n/cc fic where instead of proposing in The Producers, Niles tells CC the play was for her ? Thank you and I love your writing!!

I absolutely still do these, Anon - I have no idea how long you have been waiting now and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long! I have quite a backlog to get through, with full-time work and general adult life (as well as some executive dysfunction), but this one is all ready to go. I really hope you enjoy it, and I will get on the next one on the list as soon as possible (it may happen quicker, considering we’re on lockdown for at least another two weeks, but we shall see how these things go) ❤️

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

“You finally pulled off something bigger than your shorts!”

The zinger, alongside the accompanying gleeful laughter – asexpected as this package would normally have been – utterly blindsided Niles,given that Miss Babcock had only just told him how impressed she was. Impressed.She’d actually used the word “impressed”, to talk about this entire play thathe’d produced! The play that now this entire room full of people werecelebrating, at an afterparty he’d never before imagined could exist.

It had been like music, hearing the words from her lips, rubyred and curved into a smile that looked far softer and friendlier than normal…

He should have known she was setting him up. Why wouldn’tshe be? Since when did they ever do anything that wouldn’t somehow lead to the (atleast) momentary downfall of the other? It was all they ever did.

And his only hope of salvation at that moment was to thinkup a snappy retort that he could fire back at the back of her golden head,where she’d crushingly turned away.

But even though words and phrases and colourful insults of allshades and hues danced through his head, urging him to continue the wargames, everysingle one of them died the moment he attempted to let them fall onto histongue.

It was useless. The entire idea of having her as his enemy hadno meaning to it.

What was the actual point, in letting it go on? In allowingthe cycle that ran a far-too-thin line between hurt and fun to just…run theirlives? Would it go on forever, him never admitting how he felt and neverhearing what she really felt, either, whatever that was? As terrifying as itwas to think that they might be nothing otherwise, this all currently felt likea twisted Purgatory; one where the stranded soul could experience both Heavenand Hell in equal, random measure.

There was only one thing he could do. Only one, if he wantedto take a shot at reaching paradise.

Even if he fell on the way, at least he would have tried.

And, after a moment in which he had gathered his courage andhad dumped a few phrases from his mind that would either scare her (“Marry me”;who wanted to immediately be asked that?) or come across as peculiar (“I pulledthem off for you”; what was that even supposed to mean?!), he finally knew whathe had to say.

“And it was all done for you.”

He wondered, for a moment, if she hadn’t heard him. If hewas about to have another moment like he’d had in the kitchen, where he hadbeen able to swiftly back out the second he’d realised it had been a bad idea.

But she turned, eyes wider than before and lips slightlyparted, as though she were holding herself back from simply letting her jawdrop.

“What did you just say?”

Her tone told him she wasn’t asking because she hadn’theard. She was asking precisely because she had heard. She’d heard, and shecouldn’t believe any of it.

Niles, meanwhile, was rooted to the spot and hastily tellingevery panicked thought in his mind that he wasn’t about to turn and run away.

There was no point in backing out now. No chance to, either.

He pulled another breath into his lungs, making it deep. Hehad a feeling that it could be one of his last, anyway, so he might as wellmake it a good one.

“I…I said that this show was…made for you,” he explained,finding it a gargantuan effort simply to not swallow his own tongue in theprocess. “I produced it for you. As a…as a token…of my affection…”

He trailed off as Miss Babcock took a step in his direction.But it wasn’t a ‘happy’ step, or even a surprised one (though she’d have everyright to be surprised, if she was feeling it underneath the apparent anger); itwas more the sort of march forward one might expect of an army captain whohad just heard a war prisoner speaking out of turn. The sort of step that commanded,while ordering an explanation the person most likely would no longer know howto give.

And it made Niles suddenly very aware of the fact that he’djust told this to her in a room full of other people, both friends andstrangers, all of whom had already been to see a show that evening. As thebutler wasn’t keen on the idea of them seeing another one, he directed his gazeall around them, indicating the fact that they weren’t alone and any sort ofscene made would have witnesses.

“Should we perhaps…go somewhere else to talk? I know thatthis must be-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Miss Babcock hadalready gotten close enough to reach out and grab his wrist, dragging him outof the room.

“You’re damn right we’re going somewhere else to talk!”

……………………………………………………………………………………….

The journey she took him on through the building seemed to goon forever, neither one of them speaking a word until Miss Babcock finallysettled on a small room which appeared to be used to store props and a few racksof costumes. Again, it wasn’t exactly the stunning Hollywood setting hiswildest fantasies conjured up in the dead of night, but this was reality.

He’d be a fool to really think they’d go to some privateterrace overlooking the city, where all the feelings would come out as themusic rose to a great crescendo, whereupon they’d immediately fall into eachothers’ arms.

He was, in truth, lucky that she hadn’t simply laughed athim before walking away, back at the party.

On the other hand, the look on her face as she closed thedoor behind them, standing between him and the only available exit, made himthink that there were still far more fortunate people out there than he was.

“Alright, Butler Boy, you’d better start going against yourbetter drinks-pouring instincts and spill!”

On any other day, and in any other place at any other time, Nilesmight have considered turning that demand into a zinger. But as thingscurrently stood, he couldn’t even work up the nerve to think of one, let alonesay it out loud.

All he had was what he had worked up all this courage totell her.

With no idea of where to begin, if he was honest. There wasso much that he wanted – had – to get out, that it all wanted to come rushingout at once! But that wouldn’t work; it would just get all jumbled up andconfuse Miss Babcock at best, or make her angrier than she already was, atworst.

Maybe it was best if she decided what he started with? Thatway he could focus on one thing at once…

“Where would you like me to start?”

The question came out much meeker and softer than he’dwanted it to be, and that want quickly transferred to the idea of kickinghimself. He didn’t exactly sound like James Bond, this way. More like the guywho never made it through basic spy training because he cried whenever the timecame for interrogation practice.

If he could just be calm and rational about it all, it mightnot be so difficult.

Not that the producer made it easy, simply by being there infront of him. This was different from his many awkward-but-at-least-practicedattempts at telling her, done in front of the mirror at the mansion. He didn’thave anybody glaring at him, for a start.

Further emphasising the point, Miss Babcock also folded herarms, “I don’t know, maybe on that word you used – you know the one; affection.”

Niles silently held his breath before even trying torespond.

“What about it?”

“Where the hell did it come from, perhaps?! Just to startoff with,” she shouted in return, sounding equal parts bewildered and enraged. “Andthen maybe why you thought you could just say it like that?!”

“I didn’t think I could just say it like that!” he foundhimself arguing in return, sadness and fear giving way to his chest starting tocave in. “I…I had to get it out before I lost my nerve.”

““Lost your nerve”?” Miss Babcock echoed, scoffing at thesame time. She then folded her arms. “That makes it sound like this wasn’t somesort of practical joke on your part!”

Niles’ jaw dropped of its own accord, words tumbling outbefore he could stop to think rationally, “Why on Earth would you believe thatit was a practical joke…?!”

“Isn’t everything else you do to me a prank, or a practicaljoke of some kind?!” the producer snapped. “Why would this be any different?”

The butler let his mouth close again. His mind was warringover whether he could scarcely believe what he’d heard, or if he was justshocked and upset because he knew that she was right. He supposed it was amixture of both, along with the realisation that that really was what was goingon – if they both thought it, separately, without any input from the other, howcould it not be true?

There had barely been an interaction between them whichhadn’t started with some sort of practical joke, from one side or the other. Andhe had started it all. In his foolish – and perhaps insane – attempts to benoticed by someone who would otherwise never have much of a reason to even lookat him for more than a few seconds, he had started their rivalry.

Miss Babcock had simply retaliated; given back as good asshe’d gotten.

She must’ve mistaken his horrified silence for an admissionof guilt in the present moment because she continued. Only this time, shesounded…almost resigned. As if she believed the whole evening had been leadingup to this very second, and she was upset that she hadn’t seen or understoodthat fact before now.

Niles didn’t know why that would be the case. It was justhow she appeared.

The producer leaned on the nearest prop crate, arms stillfolded and now looking at him with more than a mild degree of expectation, aswell as annoyance.

“So come on and own up; what was the punchline in this latestand greatest trick of yours? Or did I spoil the whole thing, by not letting usbe in a room full of people who could hear it?”

The butler silently swallowed before he answered. This wastruly it; there was no going back from this moment on.

“There is no punchline.”

Miss Babcock scoffed again, rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on, Niles, of course there’s a punchline!” shecried out in disbelief. “That’s like saying that there’s no-”

“There is no punchline, Miss Babcock!” Niles was moreforceful in his insistence, this time. It was as though something in him hadsnapped, at last – as though it had gotten weary or sick of backing down, ornever even speaking up in the first place. “It wasn’t a joke. I produced thatplay for you, as a token of my affection.”

“What the hell do you mean, “affection”?!” she shouted back.

That was more than enough to open the floodgates.

Scratch that, actually; opening the floodgates might implythat they could be closed again and something could still be held back. Thiswas more like someone had taken a giant wrecking ball to the wall of the dam.

“How can I put that word any more simply than you alreadyhave it?! Affection! Caring! Fondness! I am in love with you, you stupidwitch!”

For an instant – a point suspended in time which might’vebeen minutes, or just mere seconds – Miss Babcock looked amazed. Her eyes wentwide with shock, but no horror, and she appeared struck by the notion that hehad opened up beyond all measure. She actually looked quite a bit like she hadin each of Niles’ fantasies, just before the point where she would quietly ask“Really?”, before he’d say yes and they’d embrace in whatever fanciful or over-the-toplocation he’d picked for his mind’s outing that particular evening.

But, as he’d noted when they’d gone in, this was real life,taking place in an unimportant prop closet that didn’t even have so much as awindow to let in light, let alone provide Oscar-worthy cinematography and mise-en-scène.

And the instant ended as quickly as it had begun, when theproducer seemed to shake herself out of it and spring right back into anger.

“Oh, baloney! Since when have you ever displayed one iota ofinterest in me that could’ve come across as being in love?!”

Whatever had snapped in the butler before, could only havesnapped partially. He knew this because he felt the rest of it go and his ownanger – built up over years of frustration, pain and sorrow – flared to life.

“Whenever would you have let me?! Would an ordinary servantwho barely uttered a word and whom you would only see when they brought you teaor took your coat ever have stood a chance?” he took a step forward, letting gocompletely as the feelings took over. He jabbed the air in between them,pointing at her accusingly. “Be completely honest with both me and yourself,just this once, and tell me; would you have even seen me as a person if Ihadn’t gone further?”

There would almost have been another silence, had he notsworn he could hear the resounding slap to Miss Babcock’s face that his wordshad just produced. Even if she was trying to hold it together, he could tellthat the hit had landed – he saw a light dim in her eyes, that he had never,ever seen get even slightly dull before. Even in their worst moments, thosesapphires had never been anything less than bright, whether they were sparklingwith delight or burning with fire.

The guilt started in his throat and burrowed downwards,hollowing him out into the pit of his stomach. It was more than enough to makehim duck his head away in shame.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he bit the insideof his lip, every awful feeling word churning up his insides. “Just as Ishouldn’t have said or done a lot of things. I felt as though I had no choice;I could either stay an active part of your day-to-day life, albeit one that stuckin your craw, or I could just…blend into the furniture, like all the otherservants your family has ever known.”

He found himself leaning on his own crate and stared a holeinto the floor, the weight of everything coming crashing down on him, from thenotion of his own worthlessness in life to the knowledge that he’d been a foolto even try and attempt this.

“I suppose this play was just yet another desperate butfailed attempt at being more.”

“Desperate and failed”, indeed. The two words summed him upperfectly. He was nothing more than a stupid butler, who’d done too much damagein a place where he just simply wasn’t wanted. And even if he had had a chance,how good would those chances have been against someone else’s? That slimpossibility that she might look in his direction was nothing, compared to whatwould happen if some rich, handsome, charming fellow passed her way.

He couldn’t even begin to hold a candle to what she couldget. Or what she deserved. The chance was nothing, and so was he.

There wasn’t anything else to it, then. He had to leave – he’dapologise for even bringing this entire business up, promise to never let it affecthis work or hers (there would be no more pranks, to start with) and then hewould go. As he had no way of obtaining a new job, he would simply stay out ofher way at the mansion, as best he could. The entire afterparty was over forhim, too, so he had no qualms about leaving it. He wasn’t in much of acelebratory mood.

He was about to start with the first part by getting up fromhis temporary perch, when Miss Babcock’s voice cut through the still, slightlystale air.

“You’re right.”

He knew he was; that was why he felt so terrible. But hecouldn’t help being curious about which bit in particular she wanted to bringup and discuss.

“…About which part?”

He never expected the answer he got.

“All of it. All the stuff to do with me, anyway,” she mumbled,before shifting in chosen seat to apparently get more comfortable. “Ever sinceI was a little girl, my family always taught me how to act around servants.“They’re there to give you what you need, you don’t have to thank them!”, “It’stheir job to look after us, we don’t mix with them for pleasure!”, “Stoptalking to them so much, they’re not your friends!”…but I couldn’t help talkingto you. As much as you’ve always been a pain in my ass, I’ve never been able tohelp stopping whatever the hell I’m doing and talking to you. Paying attentionto you. My mother would probably say it was you “stepping out of line” that haddone it, but you know what?”

Niles had been slowly looking up even as she’d spoken, but itwas obvious that she had his full attention by the time she got to thatquestion. The pit in his stomach seemed to have – at least temporarily – filleditself. He didn’t dare call it hope, even if that was what it was.

He had to wait, and find out what Miss Babcock said nextfirst.

Her words came out like she felt liberated.

“I…I don’t really think I care. All those times that we’vehad – the fun ones, especially, like your friend’s wedding, or the BroadwayGuild Awards…they didn’t feel bad or wrong. My mother would’ve called themthat, but they weren’t. I liked doing those things with you, and I don’t feelembarrassed about them, even though God knows just saying it out loud iskilling me, right now…!”

It was her turn to look away, towards the floor. Even in thelower light of the storage room, Niles thought he could see a tinge of pink inher cheeks.

The not-hope feeling in his stomach faltered betweenstrengthening and shattering. Was she really blushing? She couldn’t be, couldshe? C.C. Babcock, Ice Queen of New York City and the Bitch of Broadway, wouldnever dream of blushing! Especially not over all the times she’d spent withhim!

But…if that wasn’t the case, then what else could she bedoing?

Did he have to test the waters and find out? Some might saythey were shark infested…

But how could he leave it all where it was, either? He’dcome so far, with so much courage plucked up that if it had been feathers froma bird, it would’ve been bald and ready to be stuffed for Thanksgiving by now.

He’d done all of this – nearly bankrupted their boss, gottenone of his closest friends into trouble with her husband and somehow pulled offa spectacular Broadway show – simply to tell her how he felt. Could he reallylive with himself if he let it all go to waste, because of a moment’shesitation at the last second?

Niles honestly didn’t think that he could.

So, he did what he might have imagined unthinkable, at onepoint in their relationship. He got up from where he was sat and walked overto sit down on the crate next to her. She looked at him the entire way over,and she didn’t stop even when he was sat down, barely half a foot of space betweenthem.

“I enjoyed those days, too, very much,” he said. “I’vealways wanted more of them…”

“Yeah. Me too,” she replied quietly, biting theinside of her lip as though deciding whether or not to say anything else. Then,she made up her mind. “To be honest, those times have been some of the bestI’ve ever had. Better than anything I could ever even dream of with…”

Her eyes dropped back to the floor again, clearly even moreembarrassed than only a few seconds ago, when she’d told him that she’d likedspending time with him.

It didn’t take a genius to work out which name would’vefilled the trailed-off silence.

Mr. Sheffield. She was talking about Mr. Sheffield…!

And…and she was saying that all the times they’d spenttogether – the nights out, the dancing, drinking, having fun – all meant moreto her than…than anything she’d ever imagined in her head!

He, the real-life butler Niles, had somehow managed to beatout the idealised version of Maxwell Sheffield. The one person he never thoughthe’d ever be able to compete with, in looks, or charm, or money, and yet he hadcome out on top. And not even some fantasy version, where he could hope to holda candle to their employer – just…regular old him!

It all sounded like a complete and utter dream come true;the kind that was normally heartbreaking in reality because you knew it neverwould, and yet here he was, living it out!

He even thought that he could feel the not-hope changing itsname.

“You…you really do mean that?” he asked, in awe as much ashe was in disbelief.

Miss Babcock looked at him briefly from the corner of her eye,then nodded, “Guess I finally figured I’ve been getting my priorities allscrewed up. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s ever happened.”

The butler frowned, his previous worries now turning to thefact that she was beating herself up over what she’d felt was right before.Hearing what her life had been like, when she was young and was being strongly influencedby her mother, somehow it all made sense that she would look for a rich man. Anyrich man, as long as he could prove his wealth and his connections. Mr. Sheffield had simply been the perfect candidate for a long checklist that theproducer had been given to carry around her whole life, whether she cared aboutwhat was on the list or not.

She’d probably convinced herself that she did care, simplyto make it easier. Not that it had turned out easier, but that was anothermatter entirely.

He let his hand slide along the prop crate, so it was closerto hers, “There’s no reason for you to be harsh with yourself over this.”

Miss Babcock sighed, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to make me feel better about it, Niles. I’mthe one who got it all wrong,” she said, shame permeating her tone. “Worst partis, I wouldn’t have even thought about it, if it weren’t for…all that stuffthat happened, back at Hanukkah…”

Niles winced minutely even at the mere thought of thatnight. The hours had stretched out for him in a way he’d never imaginedpossible, and the terror of it possibly turning into the worst night of hislife had hung over him like a curse. It was a curse that hadn’t been brokenuntil their nearly-lost loved ones had all piled in through the door, cold,hungry and exhausted, but mercifully alive.

Between the two of them, there had been a sort of unspokentruce that night. But even in a time when they probably could have spokenfreely, they had almost deliberately held back. They probably thought they wereprotecting themselves – protecting the game they had going on.

Now wasn’t the time for holding back, though. And the gamewasn’t worth protecting in that sense anymore, anyway.

“What did you think, that night?” he asked quietly.

“I was…scared. Well, more like terrified, actually,” sheadmitted, sounding like the words had been aching to come out of her mouth eversince she’d had the feeling. “I thought I was going to freeze to death in theback of that car. I gave it my best shot to act like everything was just fine –that everything was normal and okay. But the moment Maxwell and the Little One gottalking about what would happen if the car wasn’t found, it made me think.Hard. And don’t you dare say that’s a dangerous occupation for me.”

Niles shook his head, “I wasn’t going to.”

Miss Babcock looked uncomfortable for a moment, shufflingand shifting on the spot.

“Sorry; force of habit, I guess,” she said, beforecontinuing her explanation. “It…it made me think, and it made me realise that Iwasn’t thinking about…anybody in the car.”

Again, that was another blatant reference to their employer,quickly followed by her turning her eyes up and truly meeting his gaze for thefirst time in this conversation.

“But I was thinking about what I could be losing.”

It was obvious what she meant, even without her actuallysaying it. The words needed to tell him were probably too monumental, toosignificant and weighted with meaning in her mind to get out right then andthere. She needed time to process them, and he realised now that he understoodthat. He’d had far too long to mull over his own thoughts and feelings, but herswere only just starting to dawn in her conscious mind.

He wasn’t going to overwhelm her any more than she alreadyhad been by saying more than he needed to. He’d use her language – theirlanguage, perhaps? – and take it slowly.

“That was how I felt, that night. It accidentally slippedout, while we were on the phone to the police, looking for you all,” he toldher. “I covered my tracks, of course, but there was no coming back from it forme.”

He thought he heard the producer make a noise in the back ofher throat, but she gave no other reply. Instead, silence overtook the littleroom again.

Before it could drag on too long, the butler spoke up again,the last of his thoughts coming together in a way that made coherent sense, foronce.

“Maybe this play – for me, in some ways – wasn’t just about stayingnoticed. It took it further than that. Perhaps…perhaps I was worried about whatI could lose, too,” he said. “We’ve been going at this a long time, withoutreally talking or trying anything else. I knew that eventually, it would haveto end. You would find someone, like Chandler or…or Colin. Only they’d be evenbetter, this time, and all my chances, however slight, would’ve been used up. Andwe’ve already lost enough before now…”

His confession made him wonder if he’d tipped the scales toofar in the opposite direction, and he shut himself up as he waited for herreply.

Not for the first time that night, what he heard in returnwasn’t what he’d expected.

“We haven’t lost anything tonight.”

That made him look directly at her, “We haven’t…?”

“I don’t think so,” she turned herself – her entire bodythis time – so that she was facing him more directly, her leg leaning on theedge of the crate. “I, uh…I actually think it might be nice, to try somethingnew. To stop getting hung up on stuff that isn’t right, and going around incircles because of it. If we try to move forward, maybe we’ll reach a point wherewe both end up winning.”

Niles didn’t know if time had slowed so much that it feltlike his heart had stopped, or whether it had just exploded in a sort of silentfirework that burst in the feeling equivalents of bright reds and pinks, turningto vibrant greens and yellows, before sparkling away in glitters of gold.

His not moving (which came from shock and awe, nothing else)clearly sent off the wrong signal to Miss Babcock, because she cleared herthroat, looking awkward and embarrassed.

“If you still want to, obviously.”

That was when his hand finally dared to hold hers, whichsent her gaze straight back to his.

The butler’s voice was barely above a whisper, “I neverstopped wanting to.”

He didn’t know if he had leaned in first, or whether she wasalready there when his lips met hers. He didn’t particularly care, either. Allthat mattered was the feeling of her in his arms, which made their way aroundher lower back, as hers pulled him in for the kiss to deepen. He felt her arms wraparound his neck, and she moaned into his mouth as she let his tongue start toexplore, hers leaving him groaning as she started her own discoveries.

But it was only a start. They had to pull away for air far soonerthan either would have liked, but they stayed with their arms around oneanother, and it wasn’t long before Niles felt ready to go back in for anotherkiss.

Miss Babcock stopped him, however, teasingly placing afinger on his lips.

“We’re gonna have to get back in there sooner or later,Scrub Brush,” she said, her voice low and her eyes dark. “After-afterpartieshave to wait.”

Niles tried not to deflate too much; he knew she was right,after all. They had a whole room full of people who would have noticed thatthey hadn’t come back in by now. And even if most of them weren’t concerned forone reason or another, he could very easily imagine Fran coming back there tolook for them (read: to find out if her plan had worked just as she’d wanted).And the things he had in mind were the last thing he ever wanted her to see.

But he couldn’t help taking a particularly interested note atthe idea of the producer saying their “after-afterparty” simply had to wait. Forhow long? Did she want to test the waters more before they made the leap? He’dwait for as long as she wanted, obviously, but he also wanted to ensure thatthey were completely on the same page.

They’d been reading the same information in such different waysfor too long, now.

He kissed her fingertip, before pulling away to speak.

“For anything in particular?” he asked, taking her hand andkissing the palm.

“To see how the rest of the night goes,” she answered,getting up and pulling him to his feet playfully as she did. “If it turns out asgood as the play was, you might want to stick around.”

Niles’ eyebrow quirked, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

“And if it’s duller than dishwater?”

Miss Babcock started to grin in return, and she looped herarm in his to lead him out before she gave any sort of reply.

“Then we already know there’s an empty storage closet backhere, don’t we?”

[moonlightstars16]

Psssst....Hey y’all......Bonus Chapter ;)

YEP AND ITS ALL THANKS TOO @thepurecinnamonroll and her amazing fan art of my story! (🚨PLEASE DO NOT STEAL HER FAN ART OR REPOST WITHOUT HER PERMISSION🚨)

So enjoy this weeks bonus chapter!!! :)

Chapter 6 ~ Preparations

The next few days for Connie were just studying gem royal history and the strict rules to follow. In her off time, the library became her sanctuary of sorts. There she could read and get lost in her daydreams. From time to time she helped her newly found gem friends with their work around the castle. It was slightly surprising to find a kitchen full of, as normal as one could expect, human food and nourishment necessary for survival.

Lapis explained that part of it was making sure the humans in the zoo wouldn't starve to death. Mainly, however, it was used for Steven's purposes. Though part gem, he needed his nutrients for his human half sometimes. Even some of the gems shape-shifted their forms similar to humans to experience the pleasure of digesting food...and other things. Some actually found enjoyment in it, making it a hobby of sorts from time to time. It was quite bizarre for her to process.

Not that she truly cared where he was or what he was doing (other than the fact of the deal to not harm anyone, so long as she kept her end of the deal). Mostly work consisting of plans for earth's demise and keeping to himself(Pearl informed her upon asking since she technically hasn't seen him since before her studies began). Her heart sank every time she thought about what she agreed too. Her future to live in this horrid place and be his bride.... Though unfathomable to grasp, it wasn't like she could go back on the deal. It was her life or all of humanities on the line. No matter what she thought, she would end up losing. At least humanity will have diplomatic immunity from being destroyed. How could she turn her back on them? It wasn't like her life was worth saving aynways....

One day before the first meeting with the Diamonds to talk about earth. Connie decided to ease her worries by relaxing in the library during her break. However with the situation at hand it was hard for her to concentrate on anything else. A loud clashing sound soon interrupted her thoughts. Looking up she walked towards an open window to where the sound resonated from down below. A purple gem, though a bit shorter than the others and Pearl dueling with swords is what she had only begun to witness. Peaking her interest she sat on the windowsill to watch. The idea of them sword fighting, even though they have magic, puzzled her. And though she was on the second level, she could hear the conversing during their battle.

"Come on Pearl don't hold back! I am a gem solder for Mr. I-am-no-Diamond himself, I can handle you!" The purple gem with silver hair tied up in a ponytail shouted. Just barely dodging her attack, though she missed an opportunity to take down Pearl when the opportunity was wide open. Making Connie wonder if Pearl left herself open to attack on purpose.

"Amethyst, your footwork is still sloppy and you have no coordination! Being random can't be you're only plan of attack, sooner of later you'll need a battle strategy." Pearl moved with such precision and elegance, it was mesmerizing to watch. In just a few quick motions and effortless dodges, she pinned down Amethyst with her sword pointing towards her throat. They stood in silence until Amethyst pushed her away and stood up. Walking away in anger and grumbling under her breathe. The intense staring from before said a lot between them.

However Connie couldn't pull away from the scene replaying in her mind. Looking down at her own hands she thought about her current situation. Having a few good fighting skills could be useful, certainly she couldn't hope to have someone there to hide behind. Even back on earth she felt uncomfortable going outside to take out the trash at night. Though pepper spray in hand is nice and knowing she could run for long distances was good, but now it wasn't enough. Especially in a place where she was beyond out of her element. 

That evening, while she prepping for tomorrow's important meeting, Pearl knocked and entered the room. Slightly pleased to see her studying and memorizing all the information given. Shaking her head, Pearl cleared her throat and maintained her composure.

"Steven, has requested your presence in the dining hall for supper this evening." It was quite shocking to say the least, and a tad nerve wracking since the last time she saw him was when he took care of her headache. It was odd. One minute he was a tyrant, the next caring and then back to being cruel. Just that alone wasn't making sense and made her head spin just thinking about it.

"Why me? Why now?" She asked standing up from the vanity chair and mirror. Pearl only shrugged slightly whilst shaking her head.

"It's difficult to understand him and for now, better not to question so." Her statement made less sense about the whole situation. Still she had a point. Connie gulped remembering the deal with him. If she were to step out of line then more lives would be taken, their blood on her hands as well as his. Without another word she  followed Pearl to the dining hall. Her light green dress' skirt swaying slightly with every step she took. Stepping through the doors, she instantly felt the intensity in the air. There he was with his back facing them. He was lost in deep thought until he sensed there presence. Lifting his head up slightly he felt the warmth of her presence as it surrounded the entire room.

"As requested, Steven." Pearl spoke with her hands behind her, back straight. It reminded Connie of the way solders on earth would stand when called to at the word 'attention'. Her thoughts soon returned to the man standing before her as white butterflies swirled around her mind.

"Good, now please leave us alone." The words hit Connie like a fist punching her gut. What was about to come made her uneasy. Both herself and Pearl looked at one another, Connie's eyes pleading for her not to leave, or at least not be very far. While Pearl's gaze was calm as if to say she was alright. Leaving the room with a gentle sound of the huge double doors shutting close. Connie stayed in place not knowing what to do.

"M-My Diamond" her voice squeaked(which she hated) whilst saluting and bowing slightly. A deep chuckle soon turned into a roaring laugh. the sound surprised her enough to jump a tad a the outburst. Steven breathed in deeply to stop himself as he placed a hand over his chest.

"The Diamonds are not around. You may address me as Steven, in fact I insist upon it." Slowly but surely Steven turned his attention towards her. His gaze a tad less intimidating than before. Stepping closer till he was two feet away. Extending his leather black gloved hand. "Come" Hesitantly she raised her's, trying hard to hide her trembling and failing at the same time. Her gaze held into his outstretched hand until the soft and gentle tone of his next word surprised and compelled her. "Please" instinctively their eyes' matched one another's, only this time his was less intimidating and more inviting; Her's still confusing as ever. 

Finally she accepted, feeling his grip wrap around hers as he lead them both towards the table. Decorated in candelabras, and a vast array of fancy food. The scent intoxicating as she felt her hunger grow. He lead her towards the chair in a corner position right next to the head seat, which she assumed was his. Once they both sat down, Steven gestured for her to dine on the food set before her. After a long moment she began eating, it was her first official meal  since arriving on the planet. Not feeling really hungry other than a few scraps she found from the kitchen. With her predicament, no one could really blame her for not wanting to eat.

Steven watched her as they ate in silence, her hair had fallen to the side of her face that sort of hid her from him. It was surprising, knowing himself. He basked in her natural beauty for a moment. Causing him to slow down and almost stop eating himself. But he was part Diamond, long periods without food was normal for him. However she needed to eat, and he needed to make sure she had the strength to deal with the Diamonds. On instinct he reached out brushed away her hair tucked behind her ear gently. Feeling her jump at his sudden touch.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked watching her look upon him since they sat down.

"I'd be a fool not to be." Her reply was honest without having to say the actual word yes. "If I may" Connie began "Why don't you use other titles?" She waited till he gave a slight nod for her to continue. The look on his face puzzling as his right brow slightly raised up. "You've made it clear you don't like being called-... well you know." Carefully avoiding the phrase as best she could. "But why not any other formal titles?"

"I would rather have others address me without hiding behind formalities. Especially if one chooses to defy me, I want to hear them say my name." It was almost like he didn't want to be mistaken for anyone else other than himself. "I'm sure you have more questions... I suggest you choose your next one a bit wisely." Connie gulped and nodded her head. Her next said question was one that she had since Pearl informed her of this situation right before. Wanting to know why he needed to see her. Putting her fork down on her plate and her hands folded together on her lap. Focusing all her attention on him.

"There must be a reason you wanted me here."

"You must regain your strength. I cannot allow you to falter from lack of nourishment in front of the Diamonds tomorrow evening. Besides the complete humiliation, you won't be able to hold up your end of the deal." Steven spoke whilst grabbing a glass full of red wine, taking a sip.

"And why do you care?" Her voice low and full of annoyance. "I would suffer the most, yes, but I don't see how this affects you."

"There is not enjoyment if all I can do is easily win, I prefer a challenge after all. Besides you are to be a apart of my royal court. Whatever happens to you doesn't reflect well on me." He paused for a moment smirking "Not that it matters to me personally." He chuckled slightly as she gazed downwards yet again. It was simple, she was a pawn in his sick, twisted games and nothing more. It pained her heart deeply though she couldn't understand why. "Don't fret my dear, I am only wanting to make sure you're alright."

Once more taking her hand in his, bringing it to his lips as he placed a gentle kiss, careful in not wanting his mask to touch her. Looking back towards him, his eyes watched hers the entire time. Setting his hand down while not letting go of hers, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. The sensation oddly calmed her, yet making her inhale inwardly.

His eyes now held a depth she never saw before; it was calm, inviting, and intense in a way that she didn't shake with fear. Steven gazed into her eyes, almost getting lost in them himself. 'Snap out of it!' his inner voice shouted before he blinked and soon let go, clearing his throat slightly before instantly regaining his composure.

"Tomorrow you will accompany myself and Pearl to meet with the Diamonds to discuss matters about earth. Are you fully prepared?" Connie nodded slowly still coming out of the brief moment that had just occurred.

"Yes, Steven, I am prepared." The next day was going to be intense for her, the cruelest thing he could've done was not say anything more than what he already warned her about. She would soon see the depth of how truly horrid they were.

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

The following day, Lapis spent the hours preceding the upcoming Diamond meeting getting Connie to look presentable. A long soak in the bath making sure her skin was clean, light amount of makeup, hair done in braid adorned with jewels and a few curled locks that framed her face. And an outfit that the material it was made from was almost uncomfortable to move in. The corset underneath was no help.

The color a deep blood red dress, off the shoulders with long sleeves coming to a point against the back of her hand. The outer regal layer of the sleeves almost touched the ground. The neckline a cross between a low swoop and a sweetheart design. Both front and back. The belt had a Diamond design, and golden, all over it as it wrapped around her lower waist; while it tied to one spot and letting it drop all down her skirt towards the floor. The skirt itself gave her maneuver to walk around effortlessly but the length(hemline on the neckline and bottom skirt were black) was almost impossible to ignore. Her shoes resembled ballet flats as the color scheme matched her dress.

Though attending as nothing more than a servant, she was still supposed to look presentable. She was about to meet the Diamonds in person. Lapis could sense her nerves as she placed a black laced choker with A red pendant in the middle and three red diamond shaped jewels dangling in the front.

"You look beautiful, Connie." Lapis stated with a smile looking at their reflections in the mirror. Connie weakly smiled back weakly, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Though she had every rule and etiquette mesmerized by heart backwards and forwards, it was hard to stop from her heart beating wildly.

"Lapis is right!" a voice which belonged to a certain Peridot exclaimed as she and Bismuth entered the room. A box wrapped in a bow in hand. Connie smile widened as they handed it to her.

"We wanted to give this to you before you headed out." Bismuth said with a proud gleam in her eyes. Connie adjusting her grip began to unwrap the bow.

"Oh you don't need to do that. It's just a box lid made too look like it's been carefully wrapped." Peridot said before getting elbowed in the gut by a glaring rainbow haired gem. "Ow-Hey! She would've found out anyway!" Connie began to laugh and the rest of them followed in suit. Opening the box she gasped and was surprised to see an almost mystical like journal, quill pen and ink. It wasn't advanced compared to gem tech. But for Connie it was perfect.

"We all thought it would be nice for you to have something more...traditional. At least for when you have free time." Bismuth explained as Peridot went into telling her how they made it and where the quill feather came from, and not to get her even started on how long the ink took to make. Which earned another elbow in the gut. It brought tears to her eye briefly before blinking them away.

"Thank you, I am truly lucky to have friends like you. I hope one day I can return you're kindness."

"We'll just say you owe us one." And that statement earning a third punch in the gut.

Pearl came to fetch her soon after. Herself dressed a tad more formal than usual with her cape flaring in a more Diamond shape. Bringing Connie to the launch pad where they we're greeted by Steven, dressed in a black suit with a red shirt underneath, his blood stained black cloak with a gold chain attached this time and more leather like black gloves. A dark pinkish red cravat accentuated his jacket and his silver mask a bit more polished than normal.

Upon seeing Connie, his eyes widened. The dress she was wearing revealed how beautiful she truly was. As she entered the room, nobody could tell she was a few days ago just carrying herself like an earthling. Revealing the true young woman, kept hidden from even himself, she now presented herself like a gem. Perfect and radiant. In his eyes rivaling even the elegance of the Diamonds themselves. Closing his eyes briefly, maintaining himself yet again.

"There is no turning back, from now on you are a member of my court. Temporary or not, do you understand my dear?" Connie nodded mentally preparing herself for what was ahead.

"Yes" Soon they were on the warp pad ready to transport to the grand Diamond palace. Steven held out his arm towards a slightly confused Connie.

"Unless you want to arrive at the grand entrance landing flat on your face, I would suggest you hold on tight." She complied without hesitation. Once he felt her tight grip, he looked at Pearl with a nod as they were ready. In a flash of light and the feeling of being elevated off the ground they were off and within moments, stood before a grand Palace. Had it not been for his insistence, she would be laying on the ground in pain. Connie breathed in sharply for a moment, gasping at it's exquisite beauty that captured her eyes. Then remembering where she was brushed herself off and tried to maintain a regal state.

“I suggest you be a bit more careful next time." He spoke coldly.

As they began walking, Connie noticed Steven still had her arm tightly around his, with no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

[dovakhiindrabbles]

Have you done anything for J'zargo or Kharjo, or even Derkeethus yet? IDK if it's even within your flavor spectrum, so you totally don't have to. But if you are ok with it though; maybe surprise us with a little story that involves 1 of them? 😻 Whatever prompt/story idea you want, I'm just really wanting to read something about 1 of them in your fun style!

Uh, hot take but the fact that I can’t marry Kharjo still upsets me a little to this day. I don’t entirely get why you can’t marry any khajit characters in general honestly, but that’s why I’m here – so I can write a fic where you can marry him

Anyways, I’d be super happy to write this prompt for you! I only hope that you have a marvelous day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

Someone had left you nightshade.  

It happened one foggy morning where mist brimmed on your skin and only the songs of a few wayward birds alerted you to the rising of the sun.  

You stretched your limbs and let out a yawn before slipping on your scattered boots and a heavy overcoat, the autumn chill thick in the air. You tipped back the flap of your tent to creep outside when the sight of a peculiarly bright purple caught your attention.  

It was nightshade – the deadly flower used in all sorts of poisons and venoms – a herald for danger in the stories you heard as a child. Even now it lingered in use of summoning the Dark Brotherhood – perhaps the most resonant symbol for difficult times.

A knot ensnared in your throat and whatever air was in your lungs vanished at the very sight of the sickeningly vibrant violet petals.  

“Oh gods…” You whispered with a suddenly shaky voice. You glanced around hurriedly, anything could’ve been lingering in those bushes and trees. “Gods, we need to leave!”  

You scrambled from your shelter and to the tent beside you where your companion, Kharjo, slept, flinging back the tent opening with eyes as wide as saucers, fear plastering your expression.  

Kharjo was already awake, sharpening one of his daggers when you arrived. His ears pricked up attentively and his pupils filled in grand inky circles – a smile tinging at the end of his lips.  

“We need to leave…!” You huffed out through your clenched jaw. “We need to need now!”  

Kharjo wrinkled his nose in confusion and leaned forward as he saw your evident panic. His hand clasping your own, gentle and soft, would’ve soothed your worries most any other time – but then, it only propelled your fear.  

If something happened to him… you wouldn’t know what you’d do. The very thought made your blood run cold. Your very lip began to quiver.  

“Slow down,” Kharjo squeezed your palm, his fur warming your snow-touched skin. “What’s going on?”  

You swallowed hard and ushered him out, your companion easily towering over you like a pillar to a fern. You pointed to the soft purple plant at your tent, almost annoyingly idle.  

“Someone left nightshade outside my tent,” You exclaimed. “I think the Dark Brotherhood o-or someone is after us! It’s too dangerous to stay here.”  

Kharjo’s ears drooped in an instant. His fur puffed out in embarrassment and even his tail swept sheepishly at the ground. “I… are you s-sure about this?” He rubbed the back of his sneck, biting the inside of his cheek.  

“What do you mean?”  

You were already bundling all your things together, even taking apart your tent in your urgency. This wasn’t something you were willing to wait for. “What else could it mean when someone leaves you a deadly plant?”

You shot up and pieces of your things scattered from your grip. You stifled a series of bitter curses. “I-I mean the damn thing is used to summon the dark brotherhood for their contact killings!”  

“Oh fuck-” An idea popped into your head that made you lose your grasp entirely. “What if it’s a threat? What if someone is going to send the Brotherhood after us?”  

Kharjo appeared to crumple further and further within himself. He couldn’t bring himself to move and though he’d never admit it, the fearless mercenary nearly forgot to breathe.  

“I ah – I think we should talk…” He took a few weary steps to you as you knelt down in some feeble attempt to collect your items once more.  

“We can talk once we’re on the move,” You spoke in a slurred mess of worry. “You should start packing!”  

“No, I shouldn’t,” Kharjo sat down beside you, his eyes so utterly drenched in color that softened alongside his voice. “because nothing is wrong.”  

You stopped to gawk at him in confusion. “Kharjo, I know we can take on anyone – we’re a good team but I’m not willing to take the-”  

A bit of quiet laughter slipped from Kharjo. “I never thought the Dragonborn would be so easily frightened.” His ears perked up and his smile couldn’t help but almost gift you the same.  

Ever since you’d met he’d had that sort of miraculous effect you hadn’t found with any other. Like a scale you both balanced one another out just so from the very moment your both intertwined as a stranger willing to listen to the stories of a simple caravan guard.  

You wrinkled your nose and a bit of indignancy bubbled to the surface. “I-I’m not scared for me!” The shroud of pride melted away as your shoulders sank and forced your nervous eyes to meet his own. The weight and worry pooling in your gaze as solid as stone. “I’m scared for you – of losing you.” You bit your lip, your words caught in tremors. “I-I can’t stand the thought – I don’t know what I’d do if… if I lost you…!”  

A few tears slipped from your eyes and trickled down your cheeks. Almost frantically, Kharjo raced to wipe them away, his fingers still brushing your face. “You’re not going to lose me! I’m fine, you’re fine and…”  

He swallowed hard, mustering a sheepish confession as his ears fell back against his head.  

“I… left the nightshade.”  

You heard the words but they didn’t quite process through your head for a good few minutes. However, once it did, your jaw nearly dropped.  

Like he’d spoken a foreign language your expression twisted into one of absolute bewilderment.  

“You… you what?”  

Kharjo’s fur puffed out in alarm. He scrambled for the flower still settled before what once had been your tent. He grasped it in his paws and unfurled, allowing you to see in the early sunlight.  

“It’s not what you think!” he urged. “I swear!”  

He folded his lips and frowned as he studied the petals like one may with a jewel. “In my home… it is a gift for loved ones – for protection – it’s to tell someone you care… that you…” He glanced away, red creeping to the bare tips of his ears. “you love them…”  

A period of silence passed between the two of you, two hearts, both beating with the strength of a pounding drum within your chests.  

Kharjo took in a sharp breath and wrinkled his snout with a suddenly hurried, embarassed tone. “B-Besides, when we first met you brought something precious to me, my amulet! I only thought I should return the favor.”  

He pushed the nightshade into your open palm, both of you hesitant to let the other’s hand pass your fingers.  

“I just want you to be safe… and know I lo-” He thought better of himself. “I care for you very much.”  

Everything about him eased in an instant – speaking just above a whisper. “I’m sorry I caused such a fuss, I truly did not mean for it.”  

He rose from his spot beside you and mindlessly began to collect his things, smiling faintly. “But as long as we’re ready, we may as well get back on the road. No use wasting daylight!”  

As if you could actually focus on packing now. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and heat rushed to your face – to say the least, you roughly resembled a strawberry.  

You could barely pay attention to a single thing other than that silly Kahjit and his even sillier gift.  

It was without foresight, fragile, and ridiculously dangerous.  

But you loved it – more than words could describe and with simply all your heart.  

And you adored Kharjo.  

So, with as equally little foresight as your companion, you lifted yourself up, leaned down beside him, and pressed a chaste, gentle kiss to his cheek.  

Kharjo’s fur exploded outwards in what one could only describe as a ‘poof’. He whipped his head to you a gawking gaze and thinly lined pupils.  

You beat him to the first word.  

“I love you too.”  

He reached crazily for a sound – any coherent sound he could possibly respond to you with. It took far longer than he liked to admit.  

“Y-You… love me? I-I mean as I love you?” He sputtered a few nervous laughs. “N-Not that I’m saying I love you in a certain way! W-We could always forget this whole morning happened if you mean-”  

“I love you exactly as you love me,” You simpered. “I’m just sorry I don’t have a flower for you to show it.”  

Kharjo smile dso wide it must’ve hurt, pulling you into an embrace so tight and so tender in had no place in the icy tundra of Skyrim.  

“It’s not necessary. You are more than enough.”  

[uci-fanfic-requests]

May I request some fluffy fic with Ayako? Maybe all the escorts are not having missions so they are helping Ayako with laundry? Ayako spending time with the escorts and genuinely just enjoys their company-- I LIVE FOR BIG SIS AYAKO, OK, DON'T JUDGE MEEE (Also, can you make Tanizaki the most helpful one and Ayako praises him the most? For some reason I could imagine Tanizaki wanting to be praised by Ayako, who he considers as his beloved big sister. NEVERTHELESS, AYA NEEDS MORE LOVE). Thank you!!

Admin Notes: Okay but I’m 1000% on boardfor all the escorts doing a laundry day with Ayako because Ayako needs a break.I mean. Hirahara, how many clothes do you go through with the damage youcause?! I definitely love this one! -Admin Hirahara

For once, the escorts all gota break from missions. Rokkaku had been told that there wasn’t anythingimmediate, and Suigin had let Matsumoto go home for the day because he’d done alot of work already. So the seven escorts found themselves hanging around inthe break room, without much to do. Eventually, it was Kirishima that thoughtof going down to the local market to see if there was anything they needed forthe manor. Since Kirika was busy cooking, they thought they should inviteAyako, as she never did anything with them lately.

“Going out?” Ayakoasked, carrying a basket stacked high over her head with bed sheets.“Sorry, I can’t go with you all. I have a lot of laundry to do.” Shegestured to the basket in her hands, but also down to the laundry room, wherethere were three other basket loads of laundry that needed to be done. And theescorts couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that it was mostly their faultAyako was so busy that day.

To start off with, all themissions were leaving their clothes in terrible states of half ripped and worn,all of which Ayako would have to sew back up. Matsumoto’s experiments sometimesended in explosions, definitely leaving stains. Plus, there were all the towels,curtains, and bed sheets that nine people went through daily, so it was nowonder that after a while, the work would pile up. So rather than going outthat day, the escorts formed the “Help Ayako With Her Work Crusade”for the day, and got right to work.

It was actually really nice,for Ayako. For once, she wasn’t too busy to spend time with the escorts,because they were all spending time with her this time. To start off with,Matsumoto was helping her sort the clothes. Colors had to be separated from whites,and Ayako didn’t want to wash the sheets with the clothes or the towels. Also,she wanted to take out the damaged clothing and deem them fixable and notfixable. As they worked, Matsumoto told Ayako all about how fascinating it wasthat her second mouth could have a mind of its own.

“Really, it’s reallyinteresting,” Matsumoto continued, while sorting through a pile of whatwas definitely Hirahara’s shirts. “The Broca’s area that controls speechmust work pretty differently for you,” he smiled. “And the fact thatit needs to eat as well indicates that it’s got it’s own system for digestion,and-”

“Are you really going tolist my entire biology?” The second mouth interrupted, much to Matsumoto(and Ayako’s) surprise. Ayako apologized, but Matsumoto didn’t mind at all. Shedid, however, have to leave Matsumoto be after he’d talked so much he startedheading down the path of “it would be interesting to see what the insideof the mouth looks like”, excusing herself by making up the excuse shewould take the ripped clothes to the other escorts.

Saeki and Kirishima werehelping with the sewing processes. It turned out that they were both very goodat sewing, which is something Ayako hadn’t thought about because she’d neverseen them do it. Saeki was definitely better, though, because Kirishima wasbeing taught how to sew as well.

“Wow…” Ayakoblinked, lifting one of the fixed shirts. “You can’t even see theseams.” Saeki smiled at the praise, before looking back at the next shirt.

“This one’s… oh, thisone’s yours, Kirishima,” he displayed the many holes in the shirt.“What happened to it?”

“Um,” Kirishimaglanced to the side, as if he was thinking. “Probably… a bear.”Ayako was rather curious about that story, and Kirishima ended up telling thewhole thing to both her and Saeki. It was actually a funny story, in the endwith Kirishima winning a wrestling match with a bear. Ayako scuffed about fivegiggles the whole time. A few minutes later, Hirahara had run over, an emptybasket in his hands.

“First batch isdone,” Hirahara announced, slamming the basket down. “Next!”Hirahara was running the loads between everyone, much like Ayako was trying todo. Of course, he could carry more than she could, and he had a lot of energy todo it quickly. Ayako decided to walk with him this time, just to see how thewashing was coming. Along the way, Hirahara slowed down to match pace with thefutakuchi-onna. He told her that once they were done, they should all go to themarket, if there was time.

“There arebeanbags!” Hirahara exclaimed. “Like the ones you made. Except not ascool.” He scrunched his face a bit. “Make some for me sometime,okay?”

“Sure,” Ayakosmiled, thinking it was kind of cute that he was so excited about that. Theydropped the load off for Tanizaki and Tagami, who were doing the washing. Ofcourse, it was actually all Tanizaki doing the washing. Tagami had, at somepoint, found a pillow and hadn’t gotten up since. Tanizaki was putting lots ofeffort into washing the clothes. In fact, he was making them absolutelyspotless, which was really impressive to Ayako.

“These look great,”she smiled, patting Tanizaki on the head. His cheeks flushed up and he lookedaway, but he said something about how it was best to work his hardest. “Thankyou very much,” she said again, giving him a quick hug. Hirahara decidedthat he wanted to see who could wash more clothes faster, so he joined Tanizakiin his effort. Ayako decided to wake Tagami up so that he could help her carrysome of the clean clothes to Kinoshita, to dry.

Tagami groaned when he wasawoken, but didn’t complain when Ayako asked for his help. He easily lifted thebasket with more clothes, not wanting Ayako to carry too much. As they walked,Ayako asked him if he dreamt about anything while he was asleep.

“Lots of cats,”Tagami mumbled, still sort of tired. “There were lots of cats.”

“Sounds like fun,”Ayako nodded. “Next time, I want to have that dream too.” Tagamiagreed that it was pretty good, and mentioned that Ayako should go and rest aswell, so she could have that dream. However, she said she wanted to make sureall the laundry was done before she went to take a break. When they dropped offthe loads with Kinoshita, Tagami decided (all on his own) that he was going torun some clothes from Matsumoto to Tanizaki.

“It’ll make itfaster,” he said. Ayako waved him off, then watched as Kinoshita hung theclothes all along the line. Since he was tall, He could put things up on thesecond row that Ayako always struggled with.

“Oh, Ayako,”Kinoshita smiled. “Good timing. I think the ones on the end are ready tobe folded.” He handed her a basket, and pointed to the row. “Do youmind?”

“Not at all,” shenodded, going over to fold the clothes. “With everyone helping out likethis, I feel like I haven’t done much work myself.”

“Well, we all want youto have a break,” Kinoshita said, while throwing up one of the bed sheetsonto the clothing line. “You work really hard for all of us, and we wantto be able to do fun things with you as well.” To this, Ayako blushed alittle, but continued folding.

“That’s sweet,” hersecond mouth said. “I think I’m going to get tooth decay.” Ayakohushed her mouth quickly, feeling embarrassed yet again.

“Well, maybe after thisyou can come with us,” Kinoshita suggested, laughing at the comment.“Or if you want, we can sit down and have a drink together.”

“That sounds nice,”Ayako nodded. I really like being around them, she thought, puttinganother dry shirt away. It was all wonderful and peaceful the rest of the time,until Hirahara decided to become a bubble monster and chase after everyonecovered in soap. Scolding took place afterwards, mostly from Ayako. Someonelost an eye at some point, which Saeki found in the bucket Tanizaki was washingclothes in. Tagami went back to sleep.

[theselkiesea]

4, 6, 15 for the kisses, 17, 24, 29, for the sweet moments. Lets say... choose any three darling. Don't all have to be one fic. :)

Oh my God, first off these were so much fun to do. Secondly, I love how I wanted to write something cute….yeah, these aren’t cute. I don’t think I’m ever meant to write cute. But there’s three prompts here, each over 400 words so only read if you’ve got the time. The first one is Bioshock related, second is my original motel series and the third is Arkham Knight. Enjoy!

4. A Drunken Kiss - Character: Vivianne Warren

“Do you remember when this place didn’t look like shit?” Vivianne laughed as she opened up another bottle of Arcadia Merlot. In her other hand she held a cigarette which she brought it to her lips and inhaled deeply then past it to Daniel. He took a couple of drags then dabbed it on his wooden desk, not bothering to dust any of the ash away.

“But ya still come here even though it looks like shite. Ya be movin’ in ta the Pink fecking Pearl any feckin’ day now. Don’t know any splicer who’d pay ta fuck you though.”

“Fuck you, Daniel!” she shouted, lifting the bottle to throw at him but stopped, not wanting to waste the alcohol. “I’m the only friend you’ve got left now. Your brother scampered off to be with that bitch so if you want to be my friend, you better be nicer to me.”

Daniel grunted and clutched the side of his head as it thumped in pain then gulped down his own drink hoping it would ease the pain. It didn’t.

“Hope you plan on sharing that.”

He twirled the bottle in his hand and glared at her smugly then downed the full bottle, thinking that being drunk would help him with his headache. Streams of alcohol spilled from the corners of his mouth and rolled down his cheek and neck, he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Fuck you, Daniel” she said again, pouting and took another drink.

“I think I might be drunk enough ta kiss yah, love” he slurred.

Vivianne hiccupped and looked Daniel up and down, then hiccupped again. “Me too, pal. But I think I’m about to pass out.”

“Oh for fecks sake, get over here, now!”

Grunting, Vivianne wobbly climbed over his desk and ungracefully slid off it, sheets of paper and other objects falling to the floor with her. She leaned her head on his leg and tried to find the will to stand back up but Daniel grabbed her and sat her on his lap, holding her tightly.

“Yer a pain in the arse, love” he told her then kissed her. It was sloppy, the mixture of alcohol and smoke was revolting, but it didn’t feel wrong. Vivianne melted into his arms, for a moment she forgot these past few months. She had lost everything. Her job, friends, the love of her life and was betrayed by someone she trusted. But Daniel was still here.

He’d have to do.

17. A Love Bite - Character: Lola Hopkins

Lola clocked herself out for her break and went into the staff bathroom to fix herself up. She straightened her white blouse and undone the two top buttons, put on a fresh coat of red lipstick and a spray of perfume and she was now ready to seduce her boss.

He hardly ever worked from the motel but this morning he had come in, out of the blue, to sort out paperwork and hadn’t left his office for a few hours. Lola had worked at the Redbark Motel for three years, her boss had flirted with her a lot in the past but she always rejected him, he was a married man with two children, it wasn’t worth the possible hassle.

In those three years she had seen him bring back countless of woman, he’d either fuck them in one of the rooms or his office and would hear everything. And once the girls would leave his wife would turn up to see him and Lola would smile, keeping her bosses secrets silent. Now her curiosity had built up and she had an itch to scratch.

She knocked on the manager’s door and waited for him to answer.

“Hold on!” he called out. She waited for a couple of moments then the door opened.

“Lola? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Mr Harvey. May I have a word with you, please?”

“Of course, come in,” he stepped aside to let her through then shut the door, “So what do you want to chat about? If it’s about hiring new staff I’m currently going through the applications and-”

“I want to have sex with you” she interrupted and flashed him a smile.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, he studied her expression and noticed the little changes she had made and smirked. He leaned against the door, wetting his lips in thought.

“Well I’m flattered, Lola, but I’m a married man. I couldn’t cheat on Karen” he said, his sarcastic tone challenging her.

Lola rolled her eyes and stepped towards him. “Oh please, you’ve had so many affairs here!”

“How many?” he questioned.

“I lost count after you went up into the twenties!”

With speed he clamped his hand over Lola’s mouth and pushed her up against the wall, glaring down at her. “Keep your voice down! How dare you come into my office and demand something like that from me, who the fuck do you think you are?”

Her eyes gazed up with fright into his, this wasn’t how she expected things to go. She started to think she had made a mistake, he could fire her for this. “I’m sorry Mr Harvey, please, I’m so so sorry. Don’t fire me, please” she begged, her voice muffled by his hand.

He chuckled. “I’m not going to fire you, I can’t lose anymore staff. And…I suppose, you have been loyal to me all these years. I think you deserve a little treat.”

He released his hand from her mouth and trailed his fingertips down her neck and crossed a little spot like he was marking an x on a treasure map. Lola opened her mouth to ask him if she could leave but before she could he pressed his lips to her neck and trailed kisses to where his fingers were placed. Her cheeks started tingling, the soft sensation gave her a desireable warmth in her chest but it was short lived when his teeth bit down.

His tongue rolled around the spot he chosen and he sucked and nibbled until he squeezed a moan out of her, when he pulled away, he came up to her mouth, inches from her lips but did not kiss her.

“Hmm, I think I’ve changed my mind, Miss Hopkins. See me after work.”

24. Slow Dancing - Character: Madcap

She looked at the broken boy tied to the wheelchair but she still approached him cautiously. Blood old and fresh was splattered across his face and outfit, she was sure that many of his bones were broken, the Joker did a good job of beating within inches of death. But he was still alive.

“Jason?”

He didn’t respond. She stepped closer then reached out and poked his shoulder, still nothing. Madcap searched up her long sleeves and went through all her hidden pockets and brought out a cassette. She skipped over to the cassette player that sat on the counter, rewound it to the track she wanted and let it play.

The song was a sweet romantic violin piece, it sounded scratchy in certain parts due to its age but it still sounded nice. She hopped into the center of the room so that she was facing him then folded her arms, her

long sleeves getting tangled in the process, she regretted not changing into something more suitable for what she had planned.

“Hi Jason…I’m Madcap, but you already know that, eh…my real name is Emily, I think you actually might already know that too,” she paused, her face flaring red with embarrassment, “Man, I’m glad you are unconscious right now, this is so awkward. I’m sorry that Uncle J has done this to you, I mean, I like fighting you but…I didn’t think he’d take it this far.”

She sighed and cursed at herself, then continued. “I wanna tell you this, even though you can’t hear me, and I know we’re enemies but I think you’re really cute. Wow, it feels good to get that off my chest! I know that things would never work out between us. We’d try to kill each other time and I don’t want to be in a relationship like Uncle J’s and Harley.”

Madcap slowly began to move behind him, her eyes watching out for any signs that he was now awake then carried on when she was sure.

“So, I was thinking, because we can never be together, and I doubt you’d ever have a crush on me but, I was wondering if it would be ok if…I could have a dance? I’ve never been kissed before but you’re unconscious so that wouldn’t be right. And I know you’re tied to this wheelchair but, spinning you around counts as dancing right?”

He didn’t reply.

She sighed again and grabbed the handles then unlocked the wheelchair’s brakes. She began to move the chair swiftly back and forth, trying to travel with the music then as it got quicker she was spinning Jason around, but not too violently.

“This totally counts as dancing!” she giggled gleefully. The song slowed down until there was silence and Madcap still twirled Jason in smooth circles until the cassette automatically stop and rewound itself. She couldn’t stay much longer, Joker would be returning soon, he’d be furious at her if he caught her here.

Swiping the cassette she tried to match up were Jason originally sat and propped his head into a more comfortable position.

“Thank you for dancing with me, Jason. Maybe one day I’ll get a kiss from you” she smiled.

“What?” he croaked. Jason’s eyes could barely open but she looked into his, her heart panicking and beating so fast she couldn’t think straight. Her hand grabbed the back of his head and her grip was tight, she pulled back and he hissed in pain.

“Don’t tell him I was here! If you do, you won’t die at his hands but mine,” she threatened, “Thanks for ruining my lovely evening!”

She released his head, spun around and sneaked off into the shadows and hoped that the Joker hadn’t been to her cell.