#also i get feeling possessive over ccs! it happens sometimes especially when you really really like a blorbo

[jesterwriting]

I can only agree that it's very relaxing and if you do something simple where you don't have to count, then it's really nice to crochet while watching something in the background :)

The comfort character I'm working on rn is Sal Fisher from Sally Face. He's like, the only cc I have whom I feel kinda possessive over? But I guess that's because the Sally Face fandom isn't too big or active so there aren't that many fellow fans I'd encounter anyway 🤷🏻‍♂️ I almost got his arms done and I need to add the rest of the hair and then I only need to make him some clothes and he will be finished! I made his shoes and his mask already too :D

yessssss thats one of the things i love to do. put something on in the background and then go wild. thats usually what i do whenever i write. if im not writing to music, i have jerma on in the background, though i havent done that in a while. i might do that now…

ALSO OMG I KNOW SALLY FACE. i played the game a year or two ago in a single night, it was so good. i should play again sometime, i really enjoyed it. sal is such a good character to crochet a doll out of! im glad hes almost done :3 i bet hes gonna look great when youre finished!

[pyrepostings]

I had an old dsmp fansong stuck in my head so I listened to it and now I realized that might have been a mistake because now youtube's playing a bunch of dsmp fansongs into my ear at work which means yall get to hear my If Kevin Was A CC In The DSMP fanfic ideas under the cut. (Also note that it's been about three years since I've watched a stream from that server or most of those streamers so sorry if anything is out of character for the real people. However I think these interactions would be funny so really I don't care)

First off on a technical level, the way I've been imagining Kevin in fanfic type scenarios is as a ghost. After he dies in canon he haunts the world mostly freely but he can't usually be seen or heard or interacted with. He'll be drawn though to suffering and captivity, and found that *sometimes* the whumpee can see and hear him (though he can't talk because his tongue was cut out during his final captivity and that carries over into death) he can try to comfort them with his presence or humming a light tune.

This template allows him to still be *him* while still interacting with the story without actually having an impact on direction of the plot which means he can just hang out in the background most of the time but I can imagine comfort or angst (or both) for the whumpee (and kevin) when whumper's not around.

So for DSMP fanfic in my head, I'd have to break this format a little. Maybe he gets it in his head to wonder if he can possess things yet and possesses the server itself. Maybe he knows what he's getting into maybe he doesn't. All that matters is he shows up one day early on and everyone thinks someone else invited him.

And now for the specific interactions I'm imagining in my head.

I think, especially given the nature of early L'manberg, Kevin, the Irishman and fenian-alligned man that he is, would find an opportunity to drop a Tiocfaidh ár lá in the chat (which for those not in the know is an irish revolutionary phrase equivalent to 'from the river to the sea Palestine will be free' in english it means 'our day will come')

And then maybe tubbo_ specifically, being the child brit that he is, will ask "wait what does that mean?"

And Kevin, smelling blood in the water, would reply, "It's pronounced 'chucky are law' and is commonly used by us Irish to say hello. And goodbye (it's like aloha ya see) but can be used to express general agreement. You should say it loads next time you come visit Dublin :)"

And tubbo_ would believe him wholeheartedly like "Ok yay <3 I'm learning so much about your culture :) I feel so educated <3"

And this interaction would be realitively forgotten for a short time until he says it to an older brit who would actually know what it means like Phil or Wil (maybe the whole sbi crew is in a vc) and Phil leans into the mic for emphasis the way he does and just goes "the fuck you just say to me tubbo"

"I said chucky are law it means hello :) wait why are you mad at me Phil :("

And philza, for whom it is far to early in the morning to be explaining such things, has to explain "no, tubbo, you can't say that on stream, that's not what it means. It's a revolutionary phrase that a lot of people have killed and died using it."

"But Hamilton was also a revolution and if it's a revolutionary phrase then it's fine right?"

And while Phil is trying to explain the difference between role-playing the backwards fanfic of a revolution that happened 300 years ago and using a phrase that has been used as a rallying cry for people who have killed in the recent day after a culmination of 800 years of oppression and how one is ok and one is not,

Wilbur would at this point take the side of 'a revolutionary phrase is a revolutionary phrase. If the local Irishman said its OK to use then it's ok to use' while Tommy wouldn't know anything about the topic beyond the current conversation but would probably take wils side to take his side and to argue for the sake of arguing.

And meanwhile Kevin is floating in a void infront of a disembodied twitch stream screen watching the whole thing going down while eating popcorn like "Yes this is how the phrase is meant to be used from its conception: to sow discontent between brits. They should refer to the authority of their Local Irishman more often."

And then they eventually settle on maybe not using it without fully acknowledging all the real world implications, Kevin lets it go (not before finding an opportunity to ask if Phil was calling him a terrorist when that's absolutely not what he was saying, to push his buttons)

And then much later Kevin drops In a 'up the 'ra' in the chat to which tubbo again asks something along the lines of "what like the sun god?"

And Kevin is like 'dude you have to know that one' "Yes the Egyptian God of the sun :) referring to him is how the Egyptians say hello. And to express general agreement-"

anyway~

When he's not being a gremlin and giving fenian phrases to british children like poisoned candy, there's a few Americans I think he would hang out with. I think he'd give Eret shit for conflating being queer with a monarchy, but ultimately concede that it's a really cool build and the rainbow beacon has really cool redstone which he doesn't really understand.

Kevin would have referred to himself as simply Bi for most of his life, but I think if he talked to Karl about Karl's greyace identity Kevin would learn about the split attraction model and adjust his own label accordingly. (Towards women he's heterosexual aromantic, to guys he's romantic demisexual. I dont think he needs to be specifically labeled in canon but its what he is in my head the whole time. Its why he takes a long time to get in bed with a guy but gets really close to them in a way he doesnt with girls. Its also why he cant tell the difference between sexual and romantic attraction, because he gets both as surface level feelings but they manifest differently depending on whether it's towards a guy or a girl and he just assumes he has underlying misogyny issues to figure out. Point is he's only ever been in one long term sexual relationship and it was Julian ok? Ok.)

as far as actually interacting with the plot, I think he would aid lmanberg and oppose schlatt's manberg. Yknow, opposing tyrants on principle. He'd be friends with Techno. He'd oppose both Sam and dream for being tyrants. And the eggpire. Damn there were a lot of tyrants in that story.

He'd visit Tommy in his exile. He would fulfill his original calling with that. He'd try to tell him he knows what it's like to put yourself high up over an ocean and wonder how worth it would be to jump. That he won't force him to stop but that he really wishes he won't step off. He would do everything he can but this is the first time he can actually physically stand between the whumper and the whumpee, and somehow it would manage to not be enough.

Dream would be brought to the brink of death and captured as he was in canon I liked that. Kevin would oppose letting a cruel man and a tyrant live and would immediately aid any plot against the prison so he could destroy the prison and kill dream.

I dont know if he'd help with the final destruction of lmanberg. I think he'd stand against it actually. Tubbo and Tommy finally got what they wanted, a city state peacefully existing in their corner of the world. There may have been a betrayal, but only because of the previously established tyrant dream. Lmanburg finally achieved the ideal it was working towards, i think he would fight to defend it, even against people like Nicky who were there from the start and are turning on it now. I think it would still not be enough, and would still fall into irrepairable ruin. He might try to talk Techno out of it beforehand but it wouldn't work.

There was definitely more interactions I had in mind but I don't remember them now. I just wanted to get them out of my system.

If anyone read this far and wants to know the song which prompted all this, it was vantage by Halfy&Winks, and Oblivion by them is a banger too. There's only like 3 dsmp song channels I would recommend to people not in the fandom and they're one of them.

[blind3dbylight]

FNAF thoughts and timeline pontification

Been on a major FNAF kick lately and god damn it I want to solve this goddamn series. Spoilers abound. I’ll probably edit this post a lot if I think of something or get corrected on anything.

Bite of ‘83 victim/Crying child: I am of the mind that the BV and Michael Afton are one and the same, and that Michael is an android. Using the books as an example, the protagonist Charlie Emily (short for Charlotte) is discovered to be an android created by her father Henry. The real Charlotte Emily died as a very young child to William Afton, causing the relationship between Henry and Afton to fall apart--and Henry to build the Charlie androids before committing suicide. In the games’ canon, this could be the same--William had lost a child, and tells him “I will put you back together”. Literally.

We know this has to be William talking through Plushbear due to the Private Room in Sister Location having a Plushbear with a walkie-talkie by it, and by punching in 1-9-8-3 on the keypad, camera views of the house from FNAF4 appear on the desk monitors (also confirming FNAF4′s minigames took place in 1983).

Finally, there’s the issue of Nightmare Fredbear--if the CC is Michael, then it makes sense that he would draw NF in the Survival Logbook, which is all but confirmed to have been owned by him in-universe (why else would he draw casual bongos and the exotic butters in it, if it wasn’t him?), following a strong theory that Michael Afton is indeed the series’ overarching protagonist operating under pseudonyms (excepting Jeremy Fitzgerald, who WAS a totally different dude).

Elizabeth/Charlie/BV kill order: What makes the most sense to me is that either Elizabeth or Charlie were first to die. Elizabeth has to have died before CC because Plushbear tells the CC “NO! Don’t you remember what you saw?”, implying CC saw Elizabeth get captured by Circus Baby. This also makes sense for Nightmare Fredbear (as well as his black counterpart, the Nightmare) having a toothy abdomen--the CC knows about Baby’s snatching arm that extends from her abdomen. In this case, the CC isn’t a William victim--that was done by the CC’s unnamed brother (I’ll call him Foxybro because of his Foxy mask).

Charlie died sometime after that. We know she went on to inhabit the Puppet from both “Take cake to the children” in FNAF2 ,the Security Puppet minigame in FFPS, and the true ending of that latter game where Cassette Man/Henry outright addresses his daughter while images from those minigames are shown on screen. We know she is dead-set on protecting children because of what she learned while she was the Puppet and how she “gave life” to the original/withered robots by placing their souls into them.

Alternatively, Charlie was the second to die after Elizabeth, as William was beginning his research into Remnant and how it basically acts like soul glue--Charlie was just an unfortunate victim as he went about trying to get research subjects.

FNAF4 regular gameplay: I believe that the regular nights in FNAF4 are taking place in 1993 while Michael is operating under the name “Mike Schmidt”. He’s having recurring nightmares about the mascots, and again I refer to Nightmare Fredbear’s toothy abdomen. He remembers what happened to his sister.

During the night, a low pitched voice can be heard: this is a pitched-down and reversed form of the night 1 phone call from the first game. It’s important to note that Scott didn’t put these Easter eggs into that game for no reason. Why would a young child know about that phone call? Why would he know Bonnie and Chica’s habits of coming in through the left and right respectively if he’d never been in a Freddy’s security office? And then there’s the changing objects to the side of the bed--implying a hospital visit. Michael knows the robots are trying to get to him while he takes the night shift at the FNAF1 location, and the regular gameplay in FNAF4 is the nightmares he’s having when not there. And again, the Survival Logbook is strongly implied to have been owned by Michael Afton, and he drew Nightmare Fredbear in it. He wouldn’t have known what NF looked like if he wasn’t the CC.

Michael being an android: Baby alludes to this in Sister Location, telling him “You won’t die” shortly before he is scooped--and the scooper makes a more metallic impact sound when he is. (This could simply be because Scott generally doesn’t do outright gore in FNAF, Springtrap notwithstanding, but still...)

Of course, the scooper also injects Remnant, as stated in the blueprint of it seen during the Insanity ending of FFPS. Also how he was able to survive Ennard controlling his body, and when he rises after Ennard bails out, he has pinprick eyes just like the robots do. And while he’s on the ground, he is recalling Baby telling him he wouldn’t die just before he rises back up.

Eh...it all points to Michael Afton being an android like Charlie is in the books. There’s no way a normal human could have survived all that.

Michael and William looking similar: Why are the possessed robots so dead set on getting to Michael? They think he looks like his father. Michael himself confirms this in his monologue after completing the Golden Freddy preset on V. Hard: “They didn’t...recognize me at first, but then...they thought I was you.”

Phone Guy also alludes to the robots not being able to recognize adults in the night 4 call of the second game: “Someone may have tampered with their facial recognition systems...we’re not sure. But the characters have been acting very unusual, almost aggressive towards the staff. Uh, they interact with the kids just fine, but whenever they encounter an adult, they just...stare.”

The robots believe Michael is William because they can’t tell the difference between them and no longer trust any adult, and that is a big part of why they are so determined to end him. (In the Toys’ case, they aren’t possessed--they’re just malfunctioning or possibly being manipulated by the Puppet.)

William Afton’s deeds: The robots (missing children) are aware that William used a Spring Bonnie suit (one of the springlock suits) to lure kids into the safe room and kill them out of sight. This is confirmed by FFPS on the third and final round of Fruity Maze, where a man in a Spring Bonnie suit tells the little girl playing the game “He’s not dead...He is over here. Follow me.”

It’s also alluded to in FNAF2 during the night 6 phone call: “Someone used one of the suits. We had a spare in the back--a yellow one--someone used it...now none of ‘em are acting right.”  Although this is meant to be the player’s cue that Golden Freddy is active, we know about the Spring Bonnie suit from FNAF3.

The Missing Children Incident: This has to be the reason the safe rooms were sealed off. Fazbear Entertainment knew the kids had been taken in there, but would rather have saved PR face than own up to anything. So they just sealed off the rooms hoping it wouldn’t happen again. They’re not known for their integrity...

This is alluded to during the Night 5 phone call from FNAF3: “The safe room is reserved for equipment and/or other property not being currently used and is in fact a safety location for employees only. This is not a break room, and should not be considered a place for employees to hide and/or congregate - and under no circumstance should a customer ever be taken into this room and out of the main show area.”

And in the same phone call, it’s confirmed that the Spring Bonnie suit was used: “Management has also been made aware that the spring Bonnie animatronic has been noticeably moved.” The springlock suits had been decommissioned by that point.

In the Nightmare/Night 6 phone call, you are informed that the safe rooms were sealed off due to “budget restrictions”. Yeah, by now we should know that Fazbear Entertainment is not particularly honest, as evidenced by: “Management also requests that this room not be mentioned to family, friends or insurance representatives.“ Again, they knew damn well what happened in the safe room, and chose this rather than properly address the issue. While Phone Guy himself may not have been fully aware of all this, upper management sure as hell was.

This is all very likely why the Toys no longer trusted adults--especially not the Puppet/Charlie, who knows damn well what’s really going on. Phone Guy knows the Puppet is watching: “To be honest, I never liked that puppet thing. It was always...thinking, and it can go anywhere...”

Michael trying to set the children free: It’s heavily implied we are once again playing as Michael in FFPS. If you die to Scrap Baby, she might say “You’re not who I expected to see...”  and when Scraptrap is in the vents, he may remark “You may not recognize me at first, but I assure you...it’s still me.”  Upon killing the player, he can also remark “Bittersweet...but fitting.”

Henry (Cassette Man) also makes remarks about this during the true ending: “Although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that’s not what you want. I have a feeling you are right where you want to be.”  Michael is sticking around, not only so he and the children can finally be released from a decades-long un-life, but to make sure daddy William goes down with them. When Henry and Michael die, they die ready for it.

And if it’s to be believed that Michael is the overarching protagonist, he is following behind his father, attempting to undo his crimes and set the children free--the pink slip received after completing FNAF1 and 2′s custom nights mention “Tampering with the animatronics” as a reason he gets fired.

Finally, if he’s the guard in FNAF3, the implication could be that Michael is the one who tried to burn down Fazbear’s Fright, in an attempt to end his father for good. (It didn’t work.) He did not do this right off the bat because he was busy trying to set the kids free (the minigames) It wasn’t until FFPS where the kids, Michael, and Henry finally were able to rest in peace--except William (Scraptrap), who is outright told he’s going to Hell and not to keep the devil waiting.

Takeaways: Michael Afton is the CC and is remade as an android. Elizabeth died first. We still have Mrs. Afton and Foxybro unaccounted for. William Afton killed the kids to get subjects for Remnant research. Michael is the overarching series protagonist up until FFPS. I still can’t figure out Midnight Motorist. Jeffery Epstein did not kill himself. All your base are belong to us.

[kassandra-lorelei]

can you do a fic where something goes wrong with niles' green card or american status somehow and max asks/convinces cc to marry niles so he can stay?

Here we are at very long last, my friend! I’m so very sorry it took so long to get this one done - my bestie @missbabcocks1 and I did the first half together (and kind of an interim chapter not shown here due to smut), and then it took me a while from being busy and from not feeling my absolute best to getting back on this. But it’s all done, and I hope you enjoy it

@holomoriarty

The chair she was sat in, hard and uncomfortable in front of the official’s desk, made her feel like she’d gotten in trouble with the principal at school or something.

She wasn’t in trouble - at least, she wasn’t yet. If this Immigration Officer (or whatever title the scrawny little man in front of her held) decided that her answers weren’t good enough, then she would be.

The things she did to get what she wanted sometimes!

She could still remember the look on the butler’s face, rendered speechless by her agreement to marry him to stop him from being deported. It was just like Niles to forget about his own visa deadline until it was too late!

And it was just like Maxwell and Nanny Fine to ask her to step in and help.

But she’d had an ace up her sleeve - the one thing she knew she could get out of agreeing to keep the bane of her existence in the country.

She remembered herself saying the words that had sealed the deal.

“That’s my price, Butler Boy. I want you to get me pregnant.”

Niles had looked kind of…well, more than startled when she’d said that. But he’d agreed, so now it was official.

It would be a deal, she kept telling herself. Like a business deal, only with a little more nudity involved. They’d stay together for a few years to make it look convincing to Immigration Services, then they’d quietly divorce. She’d get the baby she felt she was running out of time to have, and he’d get his permanent residency.

Everybody was gonna win out from this, right?

All she had to do was make sure this thing went off without a hitch. The Immigration Officer was ready to start, and she had to be ready as well.

She was certainly ready for everything else.

So, she let the questioning begin, allowing the official to ask her everything she could ever possibly know about the butler.

And know things, she did. The answers came out with barely any hesitation at all, and she knew it was all correct. It was…weird, the fact that the person she clearly knew best was the one who annoyed her the most.

She felt that little tidbit of information about them might garner more questions if she mentioned it though, so she kept it to herself.

It was a relief when it was finally all done, and she could leave at long last.

Her “fiancé” was waiting for her outside, and they put on a little show because they knew the Officer was watching from just inside the office doorway. They took each other’s hands as they greeted each other and exchanged a quick (prepared for) peck on the lips, before turning to leave, still hand-in-hand and talking about anything but the interrogation they’d both just faced.

Of course, that had all been a front. Once they were clear of the building, the hands were dropped and the conversation went straight to where they’d just been.

“Did the allergy one come up for you?” C.C. asked, remembering how she’d been more than certain in her answer.

Niles nodded, apparently just as sure, “Yes - I told them that you were allergic to sage, crucifixes and holy water.”

C.C. scowled. She should’ve seen that coming.

Luckily, she knew exactly what to say in retaliation.

“Hm, sounds like someone doesn’t wanna live up to his end of the bargain,” she said casually, an edge to her voice that let him know she could cancel the whole thing at any time. “One would’ve thought you couldn’t afford to miss a chance to get laid, Hazel. It happens so rarely, as it is…”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the butler stiffen as he halted in his tracks. Up until that moment, they’d been on their way to a hotel she’d booked for them, for the express purpose of trying to conceive. They’d both figured it was best to start trying as soon as possible, so an attempt straight after their meeting with the Immigration Officer made sense.

Again, it was like a business deal. They’d arranged a date and a time, a location, and there might be profitable results once they were done.

And they were both getting a good deal out of it. If Niles behaved himself, that was.

He certainly looked white - like all the blood had drained from his face at the meaning behind her words. He knew damn well that if he didn’t live up to his end of the agreement and at least attempt to give C.C. a baby, then she would break the engagement and he’d be out of the country faster than one could say “illegal alien”.

For extra effect, she half-folded her arms, resting her left elbow in her right palm and giving him a perfect view of the ring that he’d given her.

“An old family heirloom”, he’d called it. Said it would look more convincing for Immigration. She’d been inclined to agree, and the ring was beautiful, but she hardly thought it necessary, considering this was just a business deal.

Well, it did also make a pretty good bargaining chip whenever she needed him to apologise for being his own idiot self, too.

Much to her surprise, Niles wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tightly. They were still in the proximity of the Immigration Office, so this could be part of the show they were putting on, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find herself…kind of allured by the possessiveness of the gesture.

“Now, whoever said that?” he said, arching an eyebrow, and trying to look debonair (but failing miserably).

C.C. rolled her eyes at him and they kept moving, his arm never leaving her waist for a moment. She had to get used to it (and it still felt kinda good), especially if he was about to do far more than that.

“I said it, Dust Buster. Or are your eyes getting so worn out and ancient now that you literally can’t see who said it?” she waved a hand teasingly in front of his face. “It’s me, Scrubbing Bubbles - the next notch-on-your-bedpost-to-be, probably bringing the grand total up to two.”

Niles took her wrist and lowered it out of his face, “I’ll have you know, in my time I’ve been something of a ladies’ man.”

C.C. raised a critical eyebrow, “Oh yeah, you’re a regular Casanova! Also, for the record, the phrase “in my time” is perhaps the oldest you’ve ever sounded and that truly is saying something!”

They continued in a similar vein all the way to the hotel.

To anybody else in the world, they would’ve looked like an ordinary couple. It was only in the mind of the producer about how false it all was.

About how in a few years, she knew it would be over and the deal would be complete.

……………………………………………………………………

“Does it say anything yet?”

C.C. rolled her eyes for what felt like the twelfth time in the last minute or less, before settling them back on the pregnancy test in her hand. She felt like she’d better check it anyway, even if Niles’ last round of insistent asking had only just happened and the answer had been “no” then, too.

Since getting started on him trying to live up to his end of the bargain, she and Niles had both spent most of their time either at work or at her penthouse. Making it all look good for the Immigration people (who were still sniffing around, even though they’d practically been a couple, they’d done so much together) was ten times easier when he was living there with her and sharing a car ride to work.

A lot of things had felt easier with him living there, really. She was woken up every morning to the smell of a cooked breakfast, there were always freshly washed and ironed clothes for her to wear (dry cleaning had taken forever before, on some weekends), and she always had somebody to talk to – either about her workday, or just in general, and that last point was made all the better, considering how well-matched they were in terms of wit.

They ate their meals together, they walked Chester, they patiently sat through anything the Immigration people had to say or ask about when they came around (and made fun of them once they’d left).

It had gotten…comfortable. And comforting. If she was going to admit it to herself, she’d say that the penthouse hadn’t felt so welcoming in a long time.

So much like a home…

But before her mind could get too secure in that thought, it reminded her that it had also led to them getting in a lot of attempts at conceiving. It had been practically…no, not practically. Every night since he’d been there!

Just the thought of…well, all the things that they’d tried and done in that time, really…was turning the warmth from thinking about breakfast for two instead of for one into her feeling a little hot under the collar, so she discreetly shifted in her seat just before she answered his question.

“Not yet,” she told him, trying not to sigh too loudly as she watched him pace up and down the back of the sofa. “Just slow it down, Dust Buster. It takes a while for these things to show up.”

Niles looked at her, let out his own sigh, and rounded the corner of the sofa to come and sit next to her.

“I know that! I’m just…eager to find out if our-”

“Little endeavour?” C.C. finished for him, letting a smirk play about her features.

The butler feigned offence for a brief second, but then it morphed directly into a smirk of his own.

“Well, I’d hardly say little,” he waggled his eyebrows, waiting for her to roll her eyes again (he was probably keeping count at this stage) before he went back to his more serious business. “But yes, I’d like to know if it worked.”

“You’ll find out soon enough…” she peered at the little plastic stick again, before having to squint at it even closer. It looked like…a line was appearing? Was there a line appearing?! “Hey, I think I see something coming…!”

That caught the butler by his eagerness, his eyes widening as he shifted even closer, “You do? You’re not toying with me, are you?”

C.C. lowered the stick into her lap and looked at him, unimpressed, “Oh, come on, Niles; why would I do that?”

It was kinda weird, but the longer they’d spent time together talking and thinking aloud about having a baby (everything from names, to activities they’d do with the kid as they grew up, to bantering the pros and cons of who they’d look like) the more excited they’d both become at the prospect.

And they both knew it, too, even if Niles apparently just had to make a little joke about it.

“Sorry. I know you wouldn’t, really,” he looked sheepish for a moment, but it quickly turned into his usual quipping. “And I know that I should count myself lucky, too. Most in your species tend to kill after successfully mating.”

Of course, being around each other practically every single day for the last couple of decades had heightened C.C.’s ability to fire back a zinger whenever he tossed one to her. But having him live in the penthouse with her had honed that ability to a fine, sharp point.

“Day ain’t over yet, Butler Boy,” she deadpanned immediately, keeping her eyes on the test. Something was definitely happening there. “Now keep quiet a second – the result’s coming through.”

And something really was coming through. Before her eyes, the little screen was changing…

To reveal the two little lines that would tell them both all they needed to know.

C.C.’s eyes widened, and she felt her heart start to speed up.

It was real. It was real, and it was really happening.

“It…” she was trying hard to take in air and not to let her jaw drop too far at the same time, all the while reaching up to cover her mouth with one hand. “It…says I’m pregnant…!”

Niles looked like he could immediately burst into happy tears, “You…you mean it?!”

“I absolutely do, Hazel!” C.C. cried in return, leaning towards him so that he could see the screen. “Check it out for yourself!”

The little strangled yelp of overwhelmed delight that the butler gave told her that he’d seen the result.

“See?” the producer smirked, nudging him in the ribs. “Proof that there is life in the butler’s little footmen yet!”

Not that Niles appeared to be paying attention to the attempt at banter. He was still staring at the test in awe, his eyes glistening.

“I…I don’t quite know what to say! I…”

He slowly looked up at her, meeting her gaze and holding it steadily.

“We’re having a baby.”

C.C. didn’t know what it was – the way he’d said it, or the reality of the situation really sinking in, but it suddenly felt to her as though the gravity in the room was suddenly getting weaker and stronger at the same time…

She could only nod at him weakly, “Yeah…we are…”

She didn’t know who leaned in first, but as soon as their lips brushed, and then started more than brushing, it became clear what the whole thing with the gravity was about.

She let the test slip out of her hands onto the sofa, before using them to bring Niles closer as she reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. His automatically went around her middle, and held her tightly to him, like he didn’t want to let go…

And the only clear thing that could make its way into C.C.’s mind was how much she didn’t want him to. Decades of apparently being enemies and dancing around whatever was really going on suddenly seemed like a waste of time, in comparison to what they were doing right then and had spent the last few weeks doing there in the penthouse. Years of being told what to do by her mother, and following expectations handed out to her by the people she’d surrounded herself with all became meaningless. It had hit her that she really didn’t have to care about any of it!

And she didn’t think she’d ever felt better.

Something, perhaps at long last, had snapped.

All that was left to do was see what happened when she tried to move things forward.

Not that that felt easy.

It nearly didn’t come out, even as she pulled away from him and just said it, “Uh…you know how we…agreed that after a couple of years of being married, we’d divorce, and then everything would go back to the way it was?”

Niles briefly pursed his lips tightly before he answered, “I couldn’t forget it.”

C.C. took in a silent breath before she continued.

“Well, what if we were to…not do that?”

The butler stared back at her, close to gaping, “I…I’m not completely sure that I’m following you…”

“What if we were to, after the baby was born and had grown up a little bit, just…stay married?” she let her eyes drop away to the floor, feeling her cheeks growing warmer. “Kind of like as a forever thing…”

Before he could respond, her mind suddenly worried that maybe she wasn’t making herself clear enough and she found herself talking even more.

“I’ve…really liked doing this. Being like this – like a proper couple, with you. And thinking about how in a few years it could all be down the toilet…that terrifies me, Niles! Somehow even worse than admitting to any of this! I don’t want to be woken up in the morning and not have your snoring be the reason! I don’t want to go to work and know that at the end of the day, it’ll just be me and then me and the baby going home in the car! I don’t want to eat a crappy microwaveable dinner by myself and go to bed feeling miserable! I’ve done all – well, most – of that already, and I’m sick of it pretending I can keep doing it! I want to marry you, and I want to stay married to you.”

The silence that followed also felt like it needed filling, and C.C. ran a hand through her hair in agitation as she imagined him saying no.

No to staying together for longer than their agreement. No to trying to be a real couple and then a family after that.

No to her. Not that she didn’t understand, if she herself was the reason.

“I mean, I completely get it if you don’t want to,” she said, keeping her eyes on the floor so they couldn’t meet his. “You only went in for this as a favour, and I’m not exactly anybody’s first choice to spend their whole entire life wi-”

She never finished what she wanted to say, because Niles had brought her face up to his and kissed her again before she could.

And when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, “Maybe you should rethink that last statement of yours.”

At hearing that and upon letting it sink in, C.C. felt like she was finding out she was pregnant all over again. Her heart was ready to burst in her chest, and her smile was growing increasingly wider.

“You…really mean that-”

“If you hadn’t just blurted out everything that has been going on in your head for God knows how long, I’d have been sat here quietly frightened of the exact same thing that you were,” Niles explained, sounding as relieved as she felt. “I don’t want any of this to end either, Babs! I want to wake up in the morning with you right there beside me, only to have you complain that my snoring shook the bed so hard that you fell out! I want to go about my workday knowing that any minute, I’ll get to bring your lunch and find out how many theatre assistants you managed to tear to shreds in the last few hours! I want to be a parent with you, and put our little one to bed at night, knowing we’ll all wake up the next morning and do the same thing over again! I want to be married to you. Nobody else. And, visa or none, agreeing to this whole thing in the first place was the best decision I ever made!”

C.C. could feel her own eyes welling up with tears by the time he was finished, “Me too!”

They fell into an embrace after that, both starting to sob more than either of them would probably admit to later. Neither probably knew how long it lasted, either – not that they cared. It was a comfort that they both needed, and it gave them time to cry out anything they had to.

When it finally did end, they leaned in for another quick kiss, and Niles used his thumb to wipe away a couple of stray tears still on C.C.’s cheek.

“There, now…wouldn’t want you to melt before the wedding,” he grinned.

“Oh, shut up, Scrubbing Bubbles,” C.C. sniffed, before managing another smile. “We…we really are going to be okay, aren’t we?”

Niles took her hands and gripped them, “We certainly are. Immigration Services won’t know what hit them.”

The producer didn’t even have to think about that one, “Probably me, if they try and insist on talking like every word we’re saying is a total lie again.”

“I’ll have to make sure I hold you back from doing that,” her fiancé replied, briefly squeezing her hands tighter before apparently realising something. “Oh! That can be our first activity as a couple!”

C.C. had to laugh a little at that, imagining him tackling her to the ground to stop her from fist fighting the next Immigration Officer that they saw, “Well, maybe not our first…!”

Of course, he took it to mean something else entirely. The interested smirk on his face told her that much.

“Hm, I think I know what you’re getting at,” he wiggled his eyebrows again, and nodded down towards her stomach. “Want to get some practice in, before our little one is old enough to ask for a little brother or sister?”

C.C. looked at him, mostly serious, and entwined their fingers, “I was actually thinking more along the lines of calling and inviting my family to lunch, so that we can tell them all the good news.”

That took Niles down a peg or two, very momentarily. But she knew he wouldn’t actually mind, he was just having some of their usual fun before he found out more details.

“Hmm,” he pretended to be put out, but quickly turned it to feigning potentially-interested thought. “…Does that invitation-and-news-telling-session include your mother?”

She grinned back at him immediately, “You bet your best pots and pans it does, baby.”

Getting the chance to potentially make her mother go into cardiac arrest cheered him up, for sure. Letting a beaming smile cross his face, he let go of her hands to reach up and kiss her on the forehead.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he declared, before getting up to go get the phone.

C.C. relaxed back into the sofa, watching him go and picking the pregnancy test back up. She couldn’t help smiling to herself at the way everything had gone – the last couple of weeks or so had been better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she huffed out a laugh to think that at the beginning of them, she’d tried to keep it like a deal she’d made for the company. It had been ridiculous for her to even try to do that, knowing (after having admitted it to herself) how much more comfortable and warm her life felt with Niles right by her side.

With their family just starting, and a whole new adventure of a future stretching out in front of them. Just like anybody else, visa-seekers or not.

Even if other people didn’t think so, they were an ordinary couple. It wasn’t false. This wasn’t a business contract.

It was something far more important and long-lasting than something like that ever would be.

[interrogatormentors]

Event Two: Straight Flush

CA: if thats howw shits gotta be i get it CA: i really do CA: just lettin you knoww youre gonna regret this. CA: and by the time you realize wwhat a fuckin mistake youvve made in pushin me awway CA: ill be far beyond your reach

-- caligulasAquarium [CA] has left the memo! --

By this point in Eridan Ampora’s life, he knew space as lonely and fickle. He knew that the gaps between stars yawned millennia, and trolls at the top clawed and stabbed each other in the back at every opportunity. As a graduate of the Fleet Academy, Eridan knew this very well. What he hadn’t been prepared for was all the fucking paperwork.

Eridan stared at the blinking cursor on the scheduling spreadsheet in front of him, but no matter how hard he crossed his eyes the numbers never started making sense. As a well-established Dreadnought Condescension team, the DC Reichenbach’s crew all possessed equally established habits and schedules. Needless to say they didn’t take too kindly to an uppity new Head Admin coming in and shuffling shit around.

Eridan leaned back in his chair, lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. The ship had one of its usual hiccups then, the lights flaring as an energy shift took place. Wonderful. With his free hand Eridan fumbled for the intercom button. “Get back in the helm, Riesse.”

After a pause a light blinked on the callbox at Eridan’s side, indicating an incoming call. “Yo, it’s been a perigee. Use my name or I riot,” said Riesse.

“Oh, funny, I can’t see Shakes anywhere on your file Riesse.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Errrridan.”

Eridan rested his head on his desk, staring at the floor as he tried to gather himself.

“Shakes. You’ve got a break from the helm tomorrow, we can’t keep usin’ antimatter engines like this. You know that the maintenance for it costs a fuckin’ fortune-”

“Mmmmyeah we can,” Riesse or Shakes or whatever the fuck that fucking brown’s name was. Eridan was tired of battling about it, but he still felt an obligation to protest. “I got shit to do with Bricks.”

“And the captain, and the Chief Intelligence Officer,” Eridan said. Further slouching caused his glasses to slip right off his nose onto the floor. “You can’t all take a break at the same time every week.”

“Yeah, we can,” said Shakes. “God, haven’t you ever heard of like, free time and social bonding? You should join us sometime. Bricks’ got a rad as hell campaign set up and Illhal said she might be transferring. We’ve got an open spot. Table’s big enough for one mooore. Loosen up, holy shit.”

Eridan hung up the call. “Uppity fuckin’ mudfucker,” he said, picking up his glasses from the floor. “Oh wow, let’s just stick a bulge in the captain, get free breaks just whenever.” 

Ever since the helming techs had come out with mobile helmsman upgrades, highbloods who had quadrants with psionic lowbloods were crawling all over it. Some lowblood sympathetic fleet captains and helming techs and docterrors had written essays about the benefits of this new technology, which boasted alleged benefits such as increased helmsman longevity and better synchronization to the ship’s systems. The technology actually meant that those lowbloods with highblood quadrants were guaranteed the ability to move if their quads got their own ship and the rank of fleet captain, and it also meant that said lowbloods came with a hefty pair of globes to match.

Eridan tried to assure himself that he shouldn’t have been surprised. The Reichenbach’s captain was a piece of work to say the least, and her matesprit was such a cocky bastard with no respect for his blood superiors. As blood equals, with Captain Nekara as his superior in age and rank, Eridan kept his mouth shut to humor her smug piece of shit matesprit who jittered with ridiculous amounts of excess psionic energy.

Eridan’s palmhusk started beeping then, letting him know about breaktime, and he cast a defeated look to the stark and empty crew schedule. Normally he’d just work through his break, considering he never had other obligations. This time, he tried something new.

[Welcome to Poker Palace Server 2022A, caligulasAquarium, apocalypticTreeswing, circuitryCloser, torpidAnnihilator! Please read the rules and have fun! Currently there are 40 viewers of this game.]

AT: aw (fuck) aw beans aw no AT: playing with (fucking) TA?????? CC: hhehhe get wrekt dood CA: wwhat CA: do you knoww each other AT: nah dude’s a (damn) bot or whatever and wins every (fucking) time AT: shoot i wanted to bet money on this match too CC: just bet on TA man CC: thhey’re like always online ur going to make a hHELLA profit AT: my pride tho CA: wwhat pride AT: DUDE :*C

Poker didn’t seem too labor intensive, especially when Eridan could theoretically still work on the schedule on the other monitor. As time progressed he instead found that the match he’d gotten roped into took all his focus after the user torpidAnnihilator wiped the floor with all of them as apocalypticTreeswing had warned. Users could theoretically stay for infinite matches, and so a rematch began.

TA won again.

And again.

Over and over TA called bluff after bluff, and unveiled hand after winning hand after intimidating everyone else, even as AT and CC left and were replaced by other users. Each user expressed dismay at seeing TA there, but something in Eridan had been awoken.

He needed to win. So he kept playing even as his break ended, eyes flicking from schedule to poker match as he continued to lose over and over. He could have fun and loosen up, totally. He just had to win first.

[Welcome to Poker Palace Server 3014C, caligulasAquarium, torpidAnnihilator, gentrificationAwaiting, corporealTone! Please read the rules and have fun! Currently there are 67 viewers of this game.]

CA: ready to lose fucker CA: you cant wwin forevver CT: ...what CA: do i look like im talkin to you GA: i mEan it’s an opEn chatroom, so GA: if you’rE talking to TA good luck haha, CA: ivve been goin at it for four perigees hes gotta lose sometime CT: ...lol GA: LOL, GA: i’vE bEEn playing for tEn swEEps!! GA: thEy don’t losE!  CA: wwell wwere gonna see about THAT noww wwont wwe CA: if youvve got a penchant for believvin anyone that isnt the empress can be infallible youre sadly fuckin mistaken CA: one wway or another im gonna fuckin provve it and then youll eat your fuckin wwords. chumps

TA said nothing as per usual, but this silence stopped bothering Eridan long ago. He had become used to the empty silence that filled the digital lobby during games. Every muscle in Eridan’s body tensed as time went on and he focused, watching everything unfold as he kept his cards close to his virtual chest. The match concluded as it usually did, with GA and CT folding and TA refusing to show their hand. After playing this long, however, Eridan had learned to take his chances. If they needed to, TA usually folded or called a bluff second. This time they’d held onto their cards.

CA: bluff you dont havve shit CT: ...we both got shit hands you know hes got a good one CA: still callin it

With the bluff called, TA’s hand flipped over to reveal a four, two fives of separate suits, and an eight. Not necessarily a bad hand, but not a good one. The entire world stopped and Eridan felt a funny lurch in his digestive sack. He lurched to his feet, staring at the screen for a good minute.

For so many perigees, Eridan had worked towards this very moment. Each second that he stood there taking slow, shaking breaths to comprehend what had just happened felt like an eternity of downright euphoria. He’d done it.

However the world, and more importantly the game, wouldn’t wait forever. He moved his shaky hands to type out the damning words.

CA: straight flush CA: i wwin

A silence followed, and Eridan felt so fucking giddy, like there were clouds below his feet. He hadn’t felt this good in perigees. The commenters who had been gossiping about the inevitable outcome of the match had lapsed into shock with the other players also at a loss. TA, as always, remained silent. Finally, GA and CT began to type, almost in unison.

GA: what CT: ...holy shit GA: arE you fucking serious no WAY you’rE cheating! CA: if this wwere anythin but an online servver i wwould be less insulted CA: i cant code my wway out of a wwet paper bag CT: ...still theres no way you couldve beaten him of all people CA: look a lot of this game is luck okay wwhat the fuck are you talkin about CA: havve you evven played poker before in your life TA: Huh. TA: Well, thII2 II2 a 2urprII2e. TA: ThII2 game wa2 quIIte refre2hIIng, thank you. CT: ...hhhhhhhooooh my god

The match closed itself then, leaving Eridan staring at his victory screen. Something about that quirk seemed familiar, but he shook the thought away. The one he’d known with that quirk had disappeared a sweep before Eridan himself had left the rebellion. He had to be dead by now. Friend requests started pinging on his poker profile as he sat there, viewers of the match itself enamored by the new champion. More than a few angry messages popped up, considering TA’s popularity in betting circles. Only one private message caught Eridan’s attention.

TA: Let me know IIf you would lIIke to play me agaIIn 2ometIIme. TA: II am very aware you have been 2talkIIng 2erver2 lookIIng for me and that would 2ave 2ome ha22le on your end II thIInk. TA: That was the mo2t fun II have had for a whIIle. TA: II may have two quIIt 2oon con2IIderIIng your mo2t deft humIIlIIatIIon, but fIIndIIng a new hobby II2 laborIIou2.

Eridan reread the messages at least five times to absorb just what the mysterious reigning champion of the poker ring was actually offering. There was an odd little flutter in his chest, something he’d thought he’d never feel again. Pride, and a well-earned, well deserved sense of pride at that. Acknowledgement by an ever-supreme master at a craft, even for something as little as poker, meant worlds to him. He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face, still on a euphoric high  at the sudden turn of events.

CA: uh wwoww okay CA: look evveryone loses evventually unless youre hackin or wwhatevver CA: surprised no one else called you out TA: The thIIng about garnerIIng a reputatIIon IIn onlIIne communIItIIe2 II2 IIntimIIdatIIon and people fallIIng on your bulge in terror ju2t come2 wIIth the whole package. TA: And a2 you know, that II2 the name of the game. CA: i thought it wwas poker TA: What? TA: Oh, very funny. CA: oh my god you talk like a fuckin loser howw old are you TA: That II2 a very rude que2tIIon. TA: II wIIll 2ee you agaIIn, ErIIdan. All haIIl the Empre22. CA: all hail i guess

TA logged off then. Eridan continued to bask in his own victory before freezing, eyes scanning over the last few messages TA had sent.

That couldn’t be possible.

He took a moment, eyes fixed on that one sentence in the chatlog again before he flipped over to his personal profile. No, nothing there. He had made sure not to put any identifying information on his profile apart from his blood color code, which more than a few members did. His name wasn’t anywhere on the site.

Swallowing hard, Eridan closed the poker site down for now and opened this week’s schedule and maintenance logs. Only victory mattered, and he’d accomplished that. What could some random nobody on the internet do to him?

Maybe Shakes’ D&D session would be a little less nerve-wracking.