isn't it romantic?

minnie moore. 25. london. actress, pediatric nurse. if you look for it, i've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around.

[fallingslxwly]

TEXT: BLOSSOM

Minnie: happy birthday gorgeous! have a great one babes! xx

[fallingslxwly]

@yodaisycakes: @minniemoore i fucking love you

@minniemoore: @yodaisycakes FUCKING LOVE YOU MORE. :) Seriously, babes. Couldn't be prouder! xxxx

[fallingslxwly]

@yodaisycakes: my first mother's day made my heart happy

@minniemoore: @yodaisycakes BEST MUM IN THE WORLD xxxxxx

[fallingslxwly]

↳INSTAGRAM: @minniemoore uploaded a photo:

Anyways, dodgy patients aside, here’s something a little more important. Happy mother’s day to the best mum in the world, my one and only @yodaisycakes! I love you more than life itself, babes, and I couldn’t be prouder of ya! I’ve watched your journey with a full heart, and seeing your progress and seeing you thrive has been a bleeding pleasure. You pick yourself up and show the world just how bleeding strong you are and I ain’t ever known bravery or strength like it, babes! Jenna’s a gorgeous girl, and she’s lucky to have you as her mum. I love you babe!

[fallingslxwly]

@minniemoore: A patient really just went and threw up on me and then asked me out???

[fallingslxwly]

TEXT: POPPY

Minnie: Oi oi! There she is, the birthday girl! Happy birthday, babes. Have a great one, hon. xx

[fallingslxwly]

chxrmingkit :

So not only had Kit managed to successfully trap himself in a darkened elevator with a complete stranger and lost his phone in the process, but he’d somehow landed himself in a position where he was stuck with a stranger that had gone a little crazy. Perhaps it was the aftershocks of the elevator halting itself, but Kit gawped at the voice anyway.

“What?” he blurted out. Was she talking to him? Or on the phone? To an alpaca farmer. He shook his head to himself then figured he might as well do what he apparently did best if the reason for her questionable questions was born out of wariness for him. He couldn’t blame him after all, and decided to charm her instead. Katherine seemed to think he was apparently very good at that.

“Actually, I left my alpacas at home today,” he stated. “You’re safe.”

It was a joke, and not really a bad one at that. Much better than the knock-knock jokes he’d been obsessed with as a kid, up until Katherine had tried one of her own and answered Kit’s ‘who’s there?’ with ‘me’ then smacked him upside the head with her dictionary. If he had to spend a prolonged amount of time with this stranger, potentially out of it as they may be, then Kit would like to get along with them as best as they could. As soon as he accidentally groped the woman though, he figured that he didn’t have a hope in hell until he began apologising profusely.

“I’m sorry!” he tried again. “I didn’t mean to touch your tits – your bits! – your… oh my gosh, I hope we die in here.” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, anxious to find some sort of resolution for his word vomit but finding nothing that pointed him in the right direction. Thankfully, the woman hadn’t slapped him yet which gave him hope that she was of the understanding sort, but maybe that was just because she couldn’t find her way over to him in the dark and was now swinging wildly at thin air on the other side of the lift.

When she spoke again, she’d quietened down a little bit and as much as Kit didn’t want to be stuck with a nickname like ‘handsy’ he’d agree that he’d warranted that.

“I promise I don’t make a habit of doing that with strangers,” he told her, feeling a little calmer. Slouching against the wall, he blinked furiously in an attempt to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but everything remained stubbornly black. He still hadn’t found his phone which was a problem, but he wasn’t about to go on his hands and knees in search of it against just in case the woman figured he was doing something untoward.

“Um, I’m Kit, by the way. Kit Kingsley,” he introduced himself. Usually, he wasn’t so boastful about his second name as he knew that people could jump to the wrong conclusions about him like Jack had when he’d first met him. This time though, he hoped to offer up some familiarity to the other occupant of the lift. If she knew him, she could at least put a name to a face and know fine well who she was trapped with – heir to Kingsley Enterprises and all-around bore. Surely that was a little bit better than a handsy, faceless stranger, right?

“I dropped my phone, by the way. If we can find it, I can maybe call my friend, Philip, and tell him the elevator’s stopped working,” he suggested.

“By the way.” He couldn’t help but ask. “Alpacas?”

Despite being shrouded in darkness and a little unsettled by the potential of being gobbled up by a pack of alpacas – was that even right? Didn't sound it. Pack'a alpacas? Nah. A group? A squad? Herd? A shit load? No idea. – she somehow couldn't disguise the snort that ripped from her throat at the stranger's comment. Alright, so he was still potentially a murderer, and he was definitely a bit of a sleaze if his hands on her tits had been anything to go by (nice hands, though; big, she couldn't help but notice), it was obvious he still had a bit of a sense of humour.

“That's a relief. I mean, if you're gonna murder me in a darkened lift, an' you're gonna grope me while you're at it, I don't reckon I wanna go out that way, ya know? Be a bit more inventive than alpacas, at least,” she noted, the corners of her lips lifting into the ghost of a smile. He couldn't see her, though, which was just as well. She didn't want him having the satisfaction of knowing he'd managed to amuse her.

That resolve was soon lost, however, when he'd stumbled over his words in an attempt to apologise, claiming he hadn't meant to touch her tits or her bits, and then continuing to state that he hoped they die there. Frankly, it was a case of word vomit that somehow contained a level of artistry to it, and she found herself weirdly impressed. She'd experienced the likes of Gaston's sweet little friend Rae, who had a tendency for speaking a mile-a-minute without pause for thought, and she'd always found it unimaginably endearing. Nothing she ever said was laced with innuendos, though, nor with a death wish, so this was certainly a new one for Minnie.

“Alright, you nutter. Speak for yourself, yeah? I'm kinda aiming to not die in 'ere, actually,” she scolded, though her tone was playful all the same. If his flustered nature was anything to go by, even without a real view of him, she figured there was still a level of innocence to his actions. She couldn't hold it against him, knowing that it probably had been nothing but a simple understanding. “S'alright, babes. You can relax. If anyfing, you should be bleedin' fankin' me! They're a cracking pair of tits, deffo not worthy of you wantin' to die after you've copped a feel.”

Oscar nominated, too; though she decided to leave that little tidbit out for the time being.

With a laugh, she shook her head, and stuck a tentative hand out in an attempt to slide it along the wall behind her, hoping to find some sort of stability. Once she'd managed to prop her hand against the slight jut in the wall behind her, she slid along it until her bum landed firmly on the floor. With a sigh, she added, “Hey, no judgement. Ain't nuffin' wrong wif doing that with strangers, just make sure ya get their permission next time, yeah?”

She was only teasing, of course – though, yes, of course consent is important – but the thought was cut short when the man revealed himself.

“Fuck off!” Minnie exclaimed, taken aback by this sudden revelation. No way was she sharing a lift with Kit Kingsley. No way had she just had her tits groped by Kit Kingsley. Blimey. She wished her phone was working. She needed Daisy to know.

But, then... he could be lying, couldn't he? I mean, after all, anybody could tell her they were Kit Kingsley in a darkened lift and she'd be none the wiser until the place lit up again. Hell, anyone could tell her they bloody knew Philip Knight and she'd have to take their word.

With a sudden jolt, she realised what a flaming idiot she'd been, and she scrambled in her pocket for her phone, retrieving it once more. Why it hadn't occurred to her before, she didn't know, but she soon swiped the screen upwards and tapped the torch, shining it around the small space until she lit up the face of a properly banging white boy. Bloody hell! He really was Kit Kingsley. Jumping to her feet once more, she smiled wide at him.

“Well, fuck me sideways, ay? I deffo ain't complainin' now that I know it's you that got a little handsy,” she quipped, laughing good naturedly.

Eventually, his words caught up with her, and she realised she should at least help him out, instead of flirting with the poor sod. Though – hey, in fairness, if they were to be stuck in a tiny space for an undetermined amount of time, she definitely wasn't too much of a prude for a quickie in a lift. Still, she shone the light on her phone around, wincing as she watched the battery deteriorate, until she caught a glimpse of something in the corner, and rushed forward to snatch it up – just in time for her phone to die.

Groaning, she cradled his phone close to her chest, not daring to bring up the lock screen on it; that felt like a strange intrusion, even if he had touched her boobs. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot and called out in the darkness to him. “Alright, my phone's died, and I ain't a nosey bitch so I'm not gonna go rootin' through yours, so you'd better get that cute little bum of yours over 'ere, yeah?”

Then, thinking back to her unsent text to Daisy, she added, “Mind you, babes. No signal in 'ere or nuffin'. Couldn't manage to send a text the second the lights went out.”

Mulling it over, she waited for him to scoot on over, a giggle bubbling at the back of her throat at his question.

“Yeah, alpacas. Listen, ya never know. You get some right nutters in this city, an' 'ow was I meanta know who you are? An' now that I do, well– it ain't like ya couldn't afford 'em!” she explained, feeling entirely justified in her response. “Minnie, by the way. If ya wanna put a name to the tits.”

She really wasn't going to drop it on the boob front – even once they got out of there.

[daydreambxliever]

So. In hindsight, trying to do the ‘king of the world’ pose from Titanic on the couch hadn’t been Joy’s brightest idea. More specifically, doing it without a Jack behind her to keep her upright was the issue, but she didn’t really have many people on call to help her there. JP probably would have been up for it, but she figured he would have actual Valentine’s Day plans rather than her silly little movie rewatch and she could hardly ask Fionn when his knee was still bad. Maybe one of her gal pals could have come over, but considering that now was a bit too late.

She’d closed her eyes to better imagine the crashing of the waves beneath her, got way too into it and pitched straight off the couch. She’d landed with a thud and a yelp which had brought Fionn hobbling out of his room in a panic and despite her best efforts to reassure him she was fine, she now found herself sat in the ER with a rapidly swelling wrist that now that she thought about it did seem to be going a little… purple.

She felt bad for making Fionn go to all this trouble, especially when she was pretty sure he was sick of the sight of the hospital from all his own appointments. On the other hand, it was the cleanest building she’d ever seen, but on the other other hand it was full of sick people so she was sure his brain was tearing itself apart right now at the contradiction. He’d refused to leave when she told him she’d be fine though, so she flicked through an old magazine and kept an eye on him in case it looked like he might need the break, pretending not to notice the way he went bright pink when the pretty receptionist passed through to talk to a nurse. 

Luckily, Valentine’s Day was a quiet one in the ER, with only a few banged heads and one sheepish looking couple who lowered their voices when trying to explain how exactly they’d got that stuck there, so it had been less than hour when her name was called. Joy’s head shot up at the sound of a fellow Brit’s accent, her eyes landing on a pretty, dark-skinned nurse with the most amazing curly hair with a gleam of excitement. She quickly arranged to meet Fionn as soon as she was done, plonking a kiss on his head as she squeezed past him and grinned at the nurse.

“Hi!” She said, then used her good hand to prop up her injured wrist and offer it out to the nurse. “I’m Joy and I fell off the Titan- I mean my sofa! I fell off my sofa.”

[fallingslxwly]

Lover of love that she was, one might assume that Valentine's Day was the day on which Minnie Moore thrived. And, had Minnie herself not laid victim to a string of God-awful dates, rumour-upon-rumour of her being tied to some of the most crass and slimey gits known to man – tabloids would print headlines about her supposedly shacking up with the likes of that Bennett Pemberley fella in a shot, or even that bleedin' tosser Robbie Williams, but they'd never connect her with someone a little more... appealing. She never opened up twitter to her fans inquiring about her relationship with Kit Kingsley, or Domhnall Gleeson, Hugh Jackman, or Chadwick bloody Boseman, did she?! Just once she wanted to indulge in the joys of trolling the currently non-existent #mackman tag.

So, sure. Lover of love, and all around cheerleader for even the vaguest snippet of romance, Minnie did thrive upon anything that might show a slight hint of love blossoming on any old day of the year, but when Valentine's Day finally rolled around, and Minnie found herself painfully single, it sort of drove her up the wall. Today, in particular, was running alarmingly slow as she'd somehow managed to be lumped in with the world's longest shift that consisted solely of people filling out the emergency room with a heap of sex-related injuries. It had been funny at first, of course, but with Serena, Nicole, Barry, and Victor at her side, the five of them found themselves holed up in the staff room, groaning – well, less groaning from Barry, the cheery bastard that he was – at the prospect of having to head back out for more. Barry had just blushed his way through a story about a girl who'd found herself sporting a pretty nasty gash on her inner thigh after she'd tried to impress her girlfriend by trying out their new stripper pole; she'd been entirely naked and swinging from the aforementioned pole, only for there to be a screw loose in the set up, and thus slicing her skin – narrowly avoiding a much more tender part of her body, as he'd put it. He'd been a little nervous to even divulge such a tale, but a little coaxing and begging from Nicole seemed to do the trick. Then, of course, there was Serena, who'd just treated a fella who'd drawn a little too much inspiration from that latest Armie Hammer film, and had tentatively pulled down his trousers to reveal a peach firmly attached to the end of his dick. From what he'd told her, his ex-boyfriend knew of his particular obsession with ejaculating in fruits and, having just caught him cheating, had decided that filling all of his fruits with a little super-glue was a good shout. Minnie couldn't help but find it at least a little impressive; he'd pretty much dedicated himself to the fact that he'd either 1) poison him, should he decide to eat the fruit and not fuck it, or 2) sentence him to the circumcision that he'd never signed up for.

Still, amusing (and a little alarming) as some of the stories were, Minnie knew that she had to get off her arse and get back out there, certain that the next Anastasia Steele was no doubt waiting to have an inflatable dildo removed from her fanny. With a sigh, she hopped to her feet and gave her coworkers a woeful wave as she passed Victor the remains of her lunch – somehow she couldn't quite commit herself to the rest of her fruit salad.

She'd barely made it out of the staffroom when she was immediately corralled together with a few of the other nurses, the chief of staff panicking, waffling on about how they were running behind and that the emergency room was starting to fill up, and that they were running out of beds. Groaning, Minnie nodded, grabbed a clipboard, made her way to the waiting room, and immediately called on the name at the top of the list; Joy Lear.

A tiny, cheery blonde bounded towards her in a flurry of movement, and Minnie found herself blinking in surprise. She looked perfectly healthy, a bright smile lighting up her face, but she knew that looks were deceiving. She couldn't help but wonder what this girl had lodged up her vagina, and whether her gorgeous smile was a result of the fact that, despite it not belonging there, maybe the mysterious object was hitting exactly the right spot.

The second she heard the word titan, soon replaced with the word sofa, Minnie's eyebrows shot up. No doubt titan was some sort of euphemism that the girl wasn't quite ready to admit to, and falling off the sofa was her go-to excuse. She wondered if, once she lead her to one of the examination rooms, she'd get the truth or just some fabricated story about going too hard to the Love, Simon soundtrack (not that she could blame her, in fairness).

“Alright, lovely. Let's get you seen to, yeah?” she smiled at her, aiming to reassure her. The girl, of course, didn't seem to need much reassuring, but so often patients were a little nervous about getting checked out, and she liked to make sure they felt safe in her very capable hands.

Leading the way, she opened the door for Joy, and then followed her inside, gesturing for her to take a seat. Shutting the door behind her, Minnie sat down opposite her, that same, warm smile present on her face.

“Okay. So, just us and these four walls, alright. What's ailin' ya? An' don't go leaving out any details, alright? I know it might be scary, or a little embarrassin', but whatever happened stays between us, okay? All confidential, an' I can't help ya if I don't know what's 'appened.”

[fallingslxwly]

@minniemoore: happy valentine's to my one and only @yodaisycakes, love you babes!

[chxrmingkit]

↳INSTAGRAM: @kitkingsley uploaded a photo:

Another day at the office.

[fallingslxwly]

@minniemoore: babes no offence but tone it down a bit i’m actually sweating a bit?

[fallingslxwly]

nxghtnurse :

Nicole tended not to get a lot of sleep, so when she quickly scrambled into the tiny room, clutching her Birkin bag (tan, leather, and a complete knock off, thank you very much) to her ample chest, her eyes immediately darted to the array of bunk beds in the corner. With a soft whine, the brunette resisted the urge to kick off her high heels and clamber between the stiff sheets, knowing she’d fall asleep the minute her head hit the pillow. Sadly, the truth was that she wasn’t going to be able to hit the hay for many more hours, when she quietly tiptoed into her Mama’s house, tumbling through the front door with Cosette in tow and trying not to wake the whole house. 

Sadly, Nicole’s profession didn’t allow her a whole lot of opportunities to get a full night’s sleep. And what profession was that, you might ask? Aspiring Cardiothoracic surgeon, devoted med student at the most prestigious (and only) hospital in Cherry Grove? Or professional cocktease cocktail waitress, showing just enough skin and leaning in just close enough to allow a (presumably) married man to slide a twenty into the waistband of her skirt? Well, depending on when you caught her, she was one or the other. Unfortunately, someone had decided to catch her while she was transitioning from ‘socially acceptable slutty’ to downright harlot.

Nicole toppled backwards as she insistently tugged on the zip of her boots, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face. She was currently hopping around the room, which was kind of totally un-sexy, attempting to squeeze out of her clothes. Damn Doctor Crawford for letting his lecture run over, damn her fellow students for trying to talk to her afterward, forcing Nicole to quickly scurry down the corridor searching for a closet, a cupboard, anything to get changed in. After all, the aptly named ‘changing rooms’ were out of the question. Anyone seeing Nicole changing into the pieces of lace and leather Gaston called a ‘uniform’ would certainly have questions.

She froze, half out of her skirt, as she heard the unmistakeable sound of Minnie’s voice on the other side of the door. I mean, it was obviously Minnie. Unless that hottie from Gaston’s club had decided to make a spontaneous trip to the hospital (which she totally wouldn’t be upset about, he was Dad-hot), there was only one other Cockney in Cherry Grove. And that Cockney was currently trying to get into the on-call room. Whilst Nicole was in her bra. 

Freezing, Nicole was torn between abject terror and laughter, something about Minnie always unknowingly comical. Even when she was yelling, dark curls flying, Nicole found some amusement in her heavy accent. Well, she supposed it helped that usually Nicole wasn’t the one being yelled at. Well, except this time.

She opted to keep quiet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear so that she could listen to the commotion she’d created outside the door. Nate, absolute douchebag and ruiner of at least three decent pairs of her underwear, was currently drawling something untoward about her being in the on call room. She huffed, pursing her lips in anger, chest heaving as she resisted the urge to slam a fist against the door, her hot temper getting the best of her.

“Dickhead.” she hissed, under her breath. Hopefully, inaudible to both Minnie and Nate. 

Waiting in silence, hoping this would convince Minnie to disappear, Nicole held her breath. When no noise came, she breathed a sigh of relief, continuing to shrug into her clothes. 

And then, Minnie. Unmistakeable. 

Sighing, she admitted, “It’s me. Look, babe, can you go away for like, five?”

Drained, desperate for a few hours kip, and with her slim chance at a bitta rest dwindling, Minnie groaned quietly. Letting out a soft whimper, she let her body slump against the door to the on-call room, sliding down it and resting her head against the woodwork as she listened out for some kind of response from her friend. She knew better than anyone how stressful working in a hospital could be, and in particular she'd seen the toll it often took on med-students who hadn't quite prepared themselves for the reality of it all, so she couldn't blame a lot of them for needing some alone time, or for taking a step back and hiding away for a couple hours. It was only natural. Nicolette had, in Minnie's opinion, always handled everything that came her way with a hell of a lot more grace than most of the fully qualified professionals that had stalked these halls for years on end. It was bound to hit her hard after a while, everyone had their moments.

True as that may be, Minnie also knew that some people had a tendency to use to veer towards the on-call room for other purposes that didn't involve 1) sleeping, or 2) studying. In fact, she'd lost bleeding track of the amount of times she'd had to steer Victor away under the guise of an emergency, instead wanting to shield him from the inevitability of seeing his best friend – and, much as he tried to keep the damned thing a secret, love of his bloody life – stumbling into one of the unoccupied rooms with his hand chasing its way up some girl's shirt, in plain view for all to see. Minnie didn't judge any of those girls – or guys (protest as he might, Gaston weren't bloody subtle) – as she'd known to have her own weaknesses here and then. She'd be a liar if she said she hadn't put those beds to her own uses from time to time, but she stood firm and proud in the fact that she'd not yet stumbled in with Gaston. It wasn't like she thought she was better than anyone, not by a long shot – she'd been tempted many times by that devilish smirk, and those bulging biceps, and she weren't about to go acting like he'd not made an appearance in some of her late night fantasies when she'd been home alone with Vinnie the vibrator – but she had a little self restraint as far as he was concerned. If not for her own self respect, but at the very least her love for Victor.

The second she heard Nicolettes's voice call out into the silence, she perked up, hoping that she'd finally let her in. But, to no avail. Nic wanted her to leave. Groaning once more, a little louder this time, Minnie pressed her forehead to the wood and tapped again, lighter, but more frequently.

“Babes, it's just me. Can't ya just let me slip in, an' you can 'ave all the time you need in there,” she practically begged, keeping her tone low enough that only Nicole would hear her.

She paused for a moment, catching onto the other girl's words a little late – sleep deprivation was, well and truly, kicking her arse – and sighed. If Nicole wanted her to disappear for a few minutes so she could make herself scarce, then maybe – and blimey, Minnie hated to admit it – that bellend Nate was right. Maybe she wasn't alone in there.

Keeping her voice low once more, not wanting to draw attention to the two of them and what she was about to say, she whispered into the silence. “Babes, i'm shattered. If you're... ya know, if ya ain't alone in there, just gimme a hint an' I'll piss off. But i'm wrecked, babes, an' I'm back on night shift in a few hours. Swear down, I won't say a word, hun.”

[fallingslxwly]

chxrmingkit :

Punctuality was something that Kit’s father had drilled into him from a young age, along with manners and a high degree of humility that the young boy clung onto out of the fear that one day his wealth would take a toll on his ego and leave him acting like the sort of undesirable narcissistic socialite that his mother had turned her nose up at when he was younger. She’d always firmly told Kit that she would never have even looked twice at his father if she hadn’t met his personality first and finances second. It was a story Kit had absolutely lapped up as a child and one that followed him through his teenage years, cautioning him through the arrival of romantic interest from teenage girls. Those that were more interested in the Kingsley name than Kit himself were immediately written off, and he liked to think his mother would be proud of him for that.

What she wouldn’t be proud of, was how late he was at that moment.

His polished shoes skidded haphazardly against the equally polished floor as he darted through the front doors of Knight Enterprises. Flashing the security guard his pass was an action born out of politeness and protocol as everyone in the building knew him from years spent battling Philip on the escalators with plastic lightsabers as they reconstructed the fateful battle between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker.

The days where Philip and Kit had played nonsensical games with each other weren’t exactly over, but some space had to be created in order to make room for business meetings and more adult things. But the two men were prone to passing notes back and forth in the more boring meetings, sending each other mildly offensive doodles of whichever speaker was droning on and on and sending them to sleep as his monotone voice attempted to drill into them the importance of investments and figures.

Such a meeting was taking place that day and Kit knew that, if he did make it on time, it would be by the skin of his teeth. He’d spent far too long chatting to his usual hot dog vendor about Much Ado About Nothing after having let the man borrow his copy the previous week. He’d been so engrossed in his conversation about Beatrice and Benedick that he hadn’t realised he was running behind on time. Scarfing down his (now cold) hot dog, he’d bounded into the tall building and barely managed to squeeze himself into a lift, tugging awkwardly on the tails of his trench coat when they got jammed in the elevator doors behind him.

He slumped against the wall and hurriedly began typing out frantic messages to Philip, wondering if his friend would heroically stall the meeting for his sake, or if he would prefer to laugh at Kit’s uncharacteristic tardiness. He didn’t have time to find out what the answer would be as the elevator came to a jarring halt and Kit was immediately plunged into darkness. Shock made him drop his phone and he dropped down to the floor, blindly searching for it only to hear a disgruntled voice from up above – ‘above’ being a few feet north of Kit’s head, not ‘above’ in the Biblical sense, unless God had suddenly transformed into a young Cockney-sounding woman which Kit was willing to suspend his sense of disbelief to acknowledge as plausible.

“I hope that’s a jibe about the situation and not the company,” Kit piped up, huffing out a small laugh. He sat back on his haunches and stared at the dark space where the voice had come from.

“This… is a pickle,” he announced eventually. “Is it just the two of us in here?”

He pushed away thoughts of the cart suspended in the air, hanging only by a single cable that didn’t seem to be doing its job properly, because that only stirred up feelings of nausea deep in Kit’s stomach. Swallowing his minute fear, he pushed himself to his feet, his phone forgotten for now.

“There should be an emergency button in here, right?” he asked, his palms feeling along the wall for the row of buttons that were nearby the door. His fingers skirted the walls, passing over a distinctly round shape that he realised (far, far too late) were the attributes that accounted for the distinctly feminine voice he’d heard only seconds ago. Realising that he’d accidentally groped a total stranger in a darkened elevator seemed more terrifying to Kit than the possibility that the two of them could plunge to their deaths any moment now and he hastily backed up until his back slammed against the opposite wall.

“I’m sorry, oh my God, I am so sorry! I was looking for the buttons, oh my God,” he babbled, covering his face with his hands.

Hearing the clatter of something beside her, Minnie wasn't sure if she should be relieved or alarmed. She'd been so stuck in her own head that she'd not even noticed if she'd been sharing the tiny space with someone and, unless the bleedin' elevator was crumbling at the seams, falling apart bit by bit, then the strange noise seemed like a bit of a give away that there was someone else in there too. Now, all she could hope was that she wasn't stuck in the darkness, suspending in the air, with some total nutjob who was about to chop her up into a tiny million pieces and feed her to his family of alpacas.

What?! Ya never know, do ya?

Then, as though catching onto her concerns about who she might be currently stuck with, a voice filled the air and Minnie tensed on the spot. Wide eyed – not that it mattered, given the total darkness – she clung onto herself, wrapping her arms around her torso in a pathetic hug, unable to shuffle away from the stranger, given she had no bloody clue where he even was to begin with!

“Depends...” she responded, her voice low and unsure. Why she thought it was a good idea to even speak up, she hadn't the foggiest, but Minnie Moore was not a coward. She weren't about to cower away from some insignificant bloke just cos the lights had gone out. “You aint 'bout to feed me to a family of alpacas, are ya?”

It was a weird question to ask, she knew that much, but she saw it as something of a test. She thought that maybe his response might determine what kind of a reaction he'd garner from her, and it might give her a little insight into whether or not he was a raving lunatic. If Daisy were here, she'd laugh. As it happened, though, Daisy was – thankfully – tucked up safely at home with Jenna to keep her company.

Listening out again for that same voice, it finally came again and Minnie frowned. Yeah, it was a pickle, no shit Sherlock bleedin' Holmes. Christ. That wasn't the bit that confused her, mind. It was moreso the direction that the voice was coming from. Furrowing her brow as she focused on the voice, she tried to follow it, to determine just where the stranger was. The more time that passed, and the more that he spoke, she soon began to realise that the noise was coming from... uh, below.

Ay?You what?!

Right, so the voice seemed a little distant, and it definitely sounded like it was coming from below. It weren't often that Minnie found herself faced with someone smaller than her, not unless they were a child, and that voice certainly didn't belong to a child. She wondered absently if all of Billy's wildest and wettest dreams had come true, and that hobbits were real, and she'd just gotten stuck in an elevator with one of them. Fuck's sake, if anyone would, it'd have to be her, wouldn't it?

Her theories only grew all the more confusing, however, when the voice seemed to travel. It went from far away, to beneath her, growing ever higher, and higher, until it seemed the man – hobbit?! – was standing right beside her. She couldn't bloody figure it out, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Like, the emergency button, as he'd pointed out. So far so good, he didn't seem all that worried about murdering her, and seemed more focused on getting them out of there.

That was, of course, until Minnie let out a startled yelp as she felt two hands spanning the length of her chest. Jumping backwards and painfully crashing into the wall behind her, Minnie once again brought her hands up to her chest, covering herself and protecting her bits from any more wandering hands.

“Oi!!! You can't just go 'round touchin' a woman's bits, ya know!!! I've got a right crackin' pair of tits and they ain't yours to fondle,” she scolded him, her tone growing louder with each passing second.

Breathing heavily, she kept herself to herself, and hoped that Cherry Grove's latest pervert might take a fucking hint and keep his distance, when his voice filled the air again. Blimey, men, ay? Never know when bloody shut up!

She heard his frantic apologies, the hitch in his breathing, and the way he repeatedly prayed to a God who, quite frankly, didn't seem to be on his side today. He did sound pretty sorry, and she supposed, given their predicament, he couldn't really see where he was going. Still, blimey, a little bitta forewarning woulda been nice before he'd gone exploring the lift and her body.

“You pushed my bleedin' buttons, alright,” she snapped, though the bite didn't quite reach her tone, instead washed away with a touch of sympathy. She couldn't be too hard on him, he could be harmless for all she knew! She'd keep a distance, that's for sure, but they needed to work together if they wanted to get outta there.

Sighing loudly, Minnie let her head fall back against the wall behind her, and groaned. “S'alright, handsy. Don't worry 'bout it. Just consider yourself lucky you got to cop a feel, might be the last thing you'll ever do if we don't manage to get ourselves outta here.”

[fallingslxwly]

TEXT: DAISY

Daisy: why are u so cute, lowkey making me wish you were asking ME out

Minnie: I'd ask you out any day of the week, babes! xx

[fallingslxwly]

DM: @KITKINGSLEY

Kit: I drink! Especially after prolonged conversations with John. ;)

Kit: I'd love to go for a drink with you, Minnie.

Minnie: Blimey! He that bad? Hehe :) xx

Minnie: Ay? You would? Oh! Brills. :) Let me know when you're free and it's a date! xx

[fallingslxwly]

TEXT: DAISY

Daisy: HYPE!!!!!!!!!

Minnie: [attaches screenshots]

Minnie: Was that alright? xx

[fallingslxwly]

DM: @KITKINGSLEY

Kit: Hey Minnie, fire away. :)

Minnie: Hiya, babes. Basics, I was just wondering really... See, I had this thought that maybe you'd wanna go for a drink or something? xx

Minnie: Do you even drink or am I making a right pillock of myself right now? xx

[fallingslxwly]

DM: @KITKINGSLEY

@minniemoore: Hiya, babes! xx

@minniemoore: Hope ya don't mind me DMing ya like this... Kind had a bit of a brainwave, or something. I dunno. Um... Just wanted to run something by ya, I guess?