#I’m just trying to gather up all the dialogue. and this is like the millionth time he’s told me this story 😭 😭

[hana-bobo-finch]

Idk how to explain it but this is dingo coded

[alchemist-shizun]

The Eyeless Cat

Part of the Welcome to Night Vale AU

Ts taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious @kim-argent-moon @lance-alt @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @sometimeswritingsometimesdying @pushussmollworld @mylifeisadeceit @spooky-scary-virgil @angstyfanfiction @artissijam @logicalberry (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Word Count: 2,195

Characters: Deceit, Virgil, Roman, (Logan is mentioned)

Pairing(s): implied Loceit

Warning(s): eye injury, stitches mention, injured animal (please tell me if I missed anything)

Summary: Beware, the town's mascot appears to have found a new peculiar feline! Does it come for war or peace? Does it come aware of its conditions? Does it come? Does it at all? How many cats is Night Vale going to be filled with? Follow the subsequently solved mysteries with our two favourite beings.

A/N: Did someone order Deceit being excited about cats? The Night Vale aura might be a bit more off than the last fic but e h I'm trying my best. As well as Deceit might seem a bit ooc too as apparently I thought all of his dialogues in Cecil's voice (did I almost write Cecil and Carlos instead of Deceit and Logan? yes). I swear I will actually bring you Logan too, just you wait for me to write the 100th episode. That being said hope you enjoy! (Not all the events are actually taken from wtnv)

✾

❝ I'll morph to someone else

Defense mechanism mode ❞

« It was admirable how suddenly our favourite, and of course only, station cat was able to move from his spot. It did already happen once, back then when that ... devilish company unleashed an unharmful-looking beast that attacked him. » Deceit's voice lowered in a mix of repressed rage and regret.

Despite being in the past, memories would always come back to haunt you; sometimes they found you in a dark alleyway, sometimes they hovered over you when you pretended to sleep.

The black of the night seemed to be the most efficient medium to reminisce.

But other times all you needed was a detail, it would grasp your mind and never let go until you experienced second hand feelings from your past self. Everything at once in a matter of milliseconds.

When Deceit had seen Khoshekh's, or, rather, Virgil's cat body half bitten away by that horridly misleading creature, oh how deeply he had wished for his hands to be able to crush the toughest material.

The anger had soon left his skin and made way to concern and worry and that sense of impending doom impossible to ignore which set on the pit of his stomach.

It was one of the scariest days of his life, scarier than that one time he had almost died.

« And then he just … jumped out! I wasn't going to stop him, everybody knows cats can survive jumps from great heights. Like that one time Jasper,  Derek's cat, had jumped from the tallest building of Night Vale and landed on his paws without a single scratch. That, of course, was thanks to the enormous wings attached to his body, which we learn that cats tend to grow around the age of five months old. Adorable! »

The fondness of Deceit towards said animals could be touched between the radio waves. He straightened his posture in his seat and leaned over his microphone.

« I simply looked out of the window, bending slightly towards the outside to witness what Khoshekh had in mind. And, listeners, you will never believe this. » Deceit smiled through the anticipation. « There was another cat right next to him! His fur was of a soft orange alternated with whiter stripes, but, sadly, I wasn't able to catch the eye colour. I couldn't believe myself when I saw them interact; Khoshekh made his first friend and we will celebrate this and welcome this new friend in our community with the warmest greetings we've gathered in our hearts. »

A shuffling of papers was heard while his tone shifted again. « More on the possible blossoming of a beautiful friendship as soon as we get more news on the matter. Let me take you to the weather. »

And the blasting of guitars started.

Deceit wasn't sure how long that weather was going to be: lately they had carried on for hours, almost forgetting about the passage of time which stretched and renewed with every instant, giving it no purposeful meaning.

This could only hold one significance: he was safe to visit Virgil once again, to check on him and see whether there were updates on the stranger cat or not.

It had been a long day.

Their search for a new intern hadn't yet been resolved; it's not like none desired to undertake the task, but they were literally still looking for their newest intern who had just applied.

It was a pretty young boy who had just moved to Night Vale for the sole purpose of working in the radio's internship so he could be more comfortable in the upcoming play he was going to star in. But, ever since he had applied, he had never been seen, nor he had ever shown up.

Deceit had been moving as if on autopilot, his body did the exact same trajectory for as long as he had wanted to check on Virgil.

He would make his way to the bathroom, wait for his friend to feel comfortable enough to appear in anthropomorphic form, talk to Virgil and then go back to make his last recording before finally going back home, unless the weather lasted for more than four minutes.

But this time he found himself out in the pavement next to the station's building, observing Virgil's moves.

The younger boy was in his cat form, staring directly at the corner of the station, as though he had been expecting something to happen for hours and hadn't yet gotten any sign.

« Waiting for someone? »

Virgil turned, his black fur like a speck of void sitting in the air. In a moment, a pale face was glancing back at Deceit, dark circles linked the white skin to the colourful tones of his left eye.

« There's something odd. » he mused with his arms crossed over his chest, the same spot he had gotten stitches on some weeks earlier. Deceit shook off the memory for the second time that day.

It was okay, nothing had happened.

« Isn't there always? What is odd, anyway? »

« I know, but- this is another kind of odd. »

Deceit let out an amused huff and walked closer. « You're starting to sound like Logan. »

Ever since the bio-machine attacked Virgil, he had stayed at Deceit and Logan's place to recover his broken bones and … trying to readjust to his previous life while dealing with all the injuries, the missing right eye he was now covering with his bangs …

And that was where he had started to pick up their habits, on a brighter note. They both found it delightfully precious.

« It feels different when he's around. »

« He? »

« The other cat. The orange one. » Virgil gestured to a spot, but Deceit saw nothing else other than a bench. « It's like he holds my own aura, he's more like me than he is like other cats. Not like Jasper, or Copernicus. »

« You think he can shape-shift like you? » Deceit tried to follow his connections.

« I'm not a shape-shifter. » Virgil had repeated for the millionth time, followed by a quick “Of course you aren't.” of his interlocutor. « I simply appear. » he added, scrunching his lips to the side afterwards, eyes narrow as he stared ahead of himself again.

He couldn't quite put his finger on that newcomer yet.

Now the newcomer was standing right in front of them, a few meters away, looking at- well, actually …

« Oh, those are some pretty red eyes! » Deceit approached, careful not to upset the feline, which at first backed away, but was far more comfortable when he sensed the soft and measured movements of the man.

He crouched down to him and looked at two little pinkish eye sockets. Deceit turned to Virgil.

« This poor creature doesn't have eyes? » he gazed back at the cat's face, which seemed to be able to capture where the man exactly was even with the lack of sight.

« Yeah, but that's not what's off about him. » the other clarified, while Deceit had already befriended the cat and had started petting its head, cooing at how cute he was.

The cat seemed to soften under his gloves' touch. « Oh, I think nothing is off about this gorgeous little buddy. » a wide ridiculous smile spread on his lips when he turned to Virgil. « Come here, he's very nice. »

Virgil rolled his eyes and complied, kneeling down next to them. He tentatively raised a hand and slowly caressed the back of the cat's body.

« We should name him. »

« Oh, please, you would end up with absurdities- What even is Khoshekh? »

« Excuse you? First of all, it's wonderful and second, you definitely love it- »

« I do not. »

« -You do. Now, who shall this new pal be? »

Virgil promptly picked the cat up without any other warning, surprisingly getting no other response from him other than a mute “Oh, alright, I'm being lifted off the ground I suppose. Neat.”

« I'm not going to stand here and watch you ruin his reputation for the rest of his days. » he started to back away, subtly amused.

« You're so dramatic. » Deceit snickered as Virgil clutched the animal to his chest.

« Thank you, I took that after you. »

« Come on, he can't just be “that orange cat”. »

« Why not? »

« He deserves a proper name. »

« You don't give proper names, Dec. »

« Then what would you think a proper name would be? »

The cat in Virgil's arms abruptly disappeared.

Instead, in them there was now a boy around his age, just a little taller than him, and just a little too close for Virgil's personal space.

« Uh … » he didn't move, not free from the other's arms yet. « How about “Roman”? »

Virgil blinked once, then twice and three times, disbelief still washed over him as he let go instantly after regaining his composure.

« You're … » just like him! « … the new intern? » Deceit questioned, remembering how familiar that name sounded. Pieces were all coming together: of course people couldn't find him, they hadn't been looking for the right creature.

« Oh! Yeah, that. I apologize, I might have missed the first few days but- » Roman cut off, looking down at his own body as if that would have explained his absence. « I got stuck. I had no idea I could do that. » despite his composed tone, confusion and mild agitation were still accompanying his face's features. A face with eyes, differently from his cat form.

« Oh well, there's always a first time as they say. Maybe Virgil could help you control that so you can still work for us? » Deceit regretted his own words the second he captured Virgil's death stare at the new citizen.

Trustworthiness of rare beings of your own kind coincidentally moving to your town wasn't going to be an easy effort. Especially when it came to him.

« Mh? » the new intern looked at the boy in question and put on the friendliest face he could muster. « Charmed to meet you, I'm Roman. » as he was extending his hand for Virgil to shake, the other began to walk back to the radio station's bathroom without a single word.

Words, in fact, were more Deceit's thing than his own.

« Aw, don't mind that. » he chirped, clasping his hands together. « Walking away from conversations is an open invitation to seek your interlocutor's company once again. I learnt that at the social interactions course in the community college. »

All he gained was a perplexed glance from Roman. « That's rather odd. »

Deceit tilted his head to the side, eyeing him cautiously. « Where … did you go to school again? »

« Uhm, New York City? »

New York City? he thought, that's not a real place.

Deceit brushed it off as Roman simply wanting to impress him. « Well then, new yorker, I guess, you might as well follow me inside; I'll show you around the place so we can get started. »

They stopped right before the entrance. « Ah, do not be bothered by station management, they will stare at you until their necks aren't able to turn anymore, which is normally around 437,27 degrees. » Deceit showed Roman one of his most encouraging smiles. « It's their way of greeting you, you'll get used to it. »

Roman blinked multiple times before he was able to process the information and follow Deceit inside.

✾

« Listeners, I have such exciting news I can't wait to share! » the pitch of Deceit's voice increased slightly. « So, in the past few hours where the weather took place, I had the pleasure to meet our newest intern, who's taking the place of our latest, as the passage of roles requires. » he waved at his current colleague. « His name is Roman and he's from … a place. A place on the earth, smiling at the sky with the same intensity as our desert town is yelling at the moon. Sorry about that, moon. We're trying to be better. »

Deceit shifted in his seat. « As well as we're trying to look out for any comforting sign the stars, any soothing sound in the wind or any pacifying rumble in the ground. But the important thing is: you're here and you're trying. Whichever option flows your way, bound yourself to it and let it hypnotize you into the eternal slumber of vigorous impetuosity. »

He let his temple rest on his hand. « Stay tuned next for quiet yelling and boisterous nothingness. » a smile crept on his lips when he realized he was very close to returning home to his boyfriend. « And as always, goodnight, Night Vale. » the smile grew wider.

« Goodnight. »

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Where the Wild Roses Grow~

Image credit: Myself @badwolf-in-the-impala​. None of the pictures are mine, just the editing. 

~Chapter 8~

Rating: Mature/18+ 

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x OFC.

Warnings: PTSD, drug use, alcohol use, smoking, language, physical abuse, sexual content, violence, angst...

Chapter warnings: Language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drug use, attempted kidnapping?

Disclaimer: This particular chapter does DOES CONTAIN an actual scene/dialogue from the show itself. I do not own any of that. I simply used it as sort of guide, in order to make the scene I was writing work.

Word Count: 4,108

------------------------------------------

Nearly a week had passed since Althea’s last encounter with Tommy. She had seen him only once or twice since, just briefly at the Garrison on business, but mostly he had been absent from her usual daily routine.

The new Inspector had been causing quite a stir around Birmingham as of late -- What with the Communists and that missing consignment of guns -- And Althea suspected that had a lot to do with things. Aside from the usual dealings that the Shelby’s played a hand in; Not that it was any of Althea’s business. But people talked, and as a Barmaid it was hard for her not to listen, so she heard a fair amount of gossip pertaining to the Shelby family and their involvement with a number of unsavory and illegal, activities. Now, as a somewhat well educated woman, it didn’t take much for Althea to put two and two together after she began working at the Garrison.

But fortunately, Althea had never been one to stick her nose where it had no business being, and even though she now shared some kind of bond with Thomas, he had shared with her very little about his business dealings. Now whether that was due to concerns for her safety, or simply because he didn’t wish to tell her, Althea hadn’t the slightest idea. She was also more than a little unsure of whether Tommy was avoiding her or not...And that alone had sent her mind further into the downward spiral it was already on.

The nightmares had returned, alongside the sleepless nights filled with self-medication and dark thoughts. Spending hours staring out her window at the empty streets below her window. Waiting for the solace of daybreak to chase away the darkness...Taking with it the ghosts of her tormented past. Day in and day out was slowly becoming a constant struggle to maintain her focus on even the simplest of tasks, but she did her best to cover it all up like she always did. Pretending that her mind wasn’t slowly buckling inwards on itself; Seeming as though she was doing a decent enough job at hiding it all. Or so she thought.

Althea’s day at the Garrison had started off just as any other. Minus the extra bit of snow to get her going after a particularly bad night of very little sleep. She had the whole bar nearly spotless within an hour or so of arriving and had since set about restocking some of the empty bottles behind the bar. So lost in her own head, that she never heard Arthur enter the Garrison through the backdoor until he had appeared behind the bar to grab the ledgers.

“Oi, wheres them ledgers at, Thea?”

Althea wasn’t sure who was more startled at that point. Herself, or Arthur, as she let out a startled yelp, sending one of the full whiskey bottle she held in her hands, hurtling to the ground as she spun around with a wide eyed expression. The second bottle raised, making Arthur take a step back with his hands raised in defense.“Thea! It’s jus’ me! Jesus fookin’ Christ!” Arthur exclaimed.

“You nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack, Arthur!” Althea gasped, setting the bottle down quickly on the wooden bar-top, before it could join it’s fallen companion that lie shattered on the floor; Taking several deep breaths to steady her already shot nerves.

“Didn’ ye hear me come in?” Arthur questioned curiously as he bent to help her gather up the broken shards of glass that lie at their feet. Althea shook her head in reply, earning a frown from Arthur as she stood and threw the glass into the waste bin.

“No. I’m sorry.” Althea apologized as she finished cleaning up the mess on the floor. “I was jus’... I was thinking, an’ must ‘ave missed hearing the door.” Arthur gave her a skeptical nod but let it go.

“Aye, well, hows a’bout those ledgers then?” He asked, watching as Althea turned and pulled them from a drawer behind the bar, handing them over. Arthur thanked her before muttering the last of his apologies for startling her, and taking his leave. Leaving Althea to kick herself for allowing this to happen for a second time now, and pray that Arthur wouldn’t bring it up to Tommy. That was the last thing she needed right now. But thankfully, the incident flew from her mind as an older man with short brown hair walked in a short while later, removing his hat as he said a soft ‘Good mornin’. Althea turned and gave him a small smile.

“Harry. Good to see you back on y’er feet.” She said, happy to have the barman back after an illness had taken him out of work, leaving Arthur to take over in his absence. Harry smiled as he slipped behind the bar, tying a long white apron around his waist.

“Good to see my bar didn’ burn to the ground while I was away.” Harry teased. Thea smiled, grateful to have a happy break, if only brief.

“No. Of course not...They had me here to keep their shite in line.” Althea said. Harry laughed and shook his head as he looked around the bar and noted, “I see ye made quick work of it then. This place is spotless.”

Thea smiled softly and said, “One tries.” ~

By mid-afternoon the Garrison was packed by it’s usual patrons. Ebbing and flowing freely through the small pub as Althea worked to keep her mind centered and drinks poured. Listening to the usual chatter and gossip as she wiped down the bar-top and cleared away emptied pints. Politely declining the many requests from customers, encouraging her to sing for them as she had a few nights before. But Althea simply brushed them off with a polite smile, “Sorry, Lads...That was a one time deal.”

But time passed swiftly, afternoon quickly fading into early evening. Althea beginning to notice that things were running uncharacteristically smooth for a change. Setting her already frayed nerves even more on edge than they usually were, as she worked quietly. Keeping a watchful eye on some of the Peaky Boys who had been milling about the place since opening, trying a little to hard to blend in and not draw too much attention to themselves. But there wasn’t much that went unnoticed by Althea, and while it wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to be milling about, their behavior was somewhat more suspicious than usual. Almost as if they were waiting for something...And as if to answer her question, right on cue, Thomas just so happened to enter the Garrison -- Interrupting her thoughts -- with his brothers in tow.

“Whiskey.” He spoke in his usual gruff tone before clearing his throat, moving to pull the leather gloves from his hands as Althea turned and grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey off the shelf behind her, along with a glass which she set on the bar as she turned back round to face him...Avoiding those blue eyes that were trained intently on her every move.

“Anythin’ else?” Althea questioned softly, finally looking up to meet his gaze as she set the bottle of whiskey aside. Watching as he tossed back the amber liquid in one flawless motion; Setting the glass back down gently on the bar, giving her a nod.

“Couple of pints.” He answered while placing a more than appropriate amount of money on the bar as he gestured towards the private room off to his left. “Deck of cards too.” Althea replied with a simple nod of her own as she turned and began gathering up the requested items. The deck of cards first on her list as she reached into a cubby below the bar and grabbed a set, placing them on the bar for Thomas to take. His hand resting atop her own briefly as a soft smirk tugged at the edges of his mouth as he added, “Maybe some singin’ as well...Livin’ the joint up a touch.”

Althea cracked a soft smile as she withdrew her hand from beneath his. Her green eyes fixed on Tommy’s form as he took the cards and headed for the private room; His brothers following close behind. Leaving her to gather up enough glasses and alcohol to sate the appetites of the Shelby men, and fuel whatever nonsense they were likely planning behind those closed doors.

“He’s right ya know?” Harry chimed in as he helped Althea, earning a raised eyebrow from her as she gave him a questioning look. “‘Bout the singin’...I’ve heard y’er quite good.” Althea snorted softly in response, rolling her eyes as she picked up the tray and balanced it carefully.

“Aye, well, I was drunk, as was everyone else.” Althea replied with a soft smirk. “I’m sure it wasn’ nearly as good as everyone remembers.” She added, stepping out from behind the bar to deliver her tray of drinks to the Shelby brothers. Leaving Harry to shake his head after her as he returned his attention to drying the freshly washed batch of glasses. Althea returning to her duties a few minutes later, finally caving to what seemed like the millionth request for her to sing a song for the crowd. That one song turing into several, as time seemed to pass a little quicker now. Drunken laughter and singing chorused throughout the Garrison as Althea’s voice filled the pub.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy, wha’ the hell made you let ‘em sing? They sound like they’re stranglin’ cats out there.” John chuckled as Tommy cracked a small smile in return, taking a drag from his cigarette as the cards were dealt.

“Alrigh’, Twenty’s the play. C’mon.” Arthur spoke as he picked up his cards. “An’ yeah? Wha’ did make ye change y’er mind, Tom?” He added. Tommy remaining quiet as he glanced towards the private rooms closed door, as Althea voice changed pitch as she bean another song; Giving a soft ‘Hmm’ as he threw his bet into the center of the table.

A sly smirk crept its way onto Johns lips as he made the connection. “Yeah, I mean, it’s abou’ time, Tommy.” He spoke, watching as Tommy turned to look at him as he answered, “Time for what?”

“Time you took y’erself a woman.” John answered with a grin, earning an eye roll from Tommy.

“Jus’ play the bloody hand.”

“You stay the way ye are, Tommy.” Arthur chuckled softly. “Remember wha’ Dad used to say? Fast women and slow horses…” He began, “Will ruin y’er life.” Arthur and John chorused together as Tommy cracked a smile at the comment while his brothers gave a laugh. But the moment was short lived as a pair of headlights shone through the private rooms window, illuminating it and grabbing the men's attention immediately.

“Coppers?” John asked quickly. Watching as Tommy shook his head ‘No’.

The singing continued out front as Althea and Harry continued their work. Althea blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold as she turned, missing the front doors as they swung open, and a group of men stepped in, brandishing a variety of guns. Harry’s expression falling as he looked up, “Holy shit.” He muttered. “It’s Billy Kimber.”

Althea’s heart all but stuttered to a stop in her chest, her blood running cold as she heard him speak. ‘Is there any man here named Shelby?’ The room falling eerily silent as he waited for an answer. The question quickly followed by the sound of a gun shot as he pulled a pistol from inside pocket of his suit’s blazer, and fired a round into the ceiling. Earning a series a startled gasps and screams from customers. “I said, is there any man here named Shelby?” Kimber spoke a little louder. Tommy’s voice suddenly breaking the silence as the door to the private room opened and he and his brothers stepped out, “Harry, get these men a drink. Everyone else, go home.”

Thankfully, nobody had to be told twice as the customers quickly dispersed from the pub. Clearly knowing better than to stick around as John and Arthur set up a table while Althea helped Harry fill a round of glasses with whiskey. Trying her best to remain hidden from the man that now sat at the table directly in front of her. Her heart sinking as Harry handed her the tray and motioned for her to deliver it. Knowing her presence would be better received by the men as he whispered a quick, ‘Whatever they need.’ Althea drew in a shaky breath as she nodded and stepped out from behind the bar to approach the table. Silently praying Kimber wouldn’t recognize her. But of course, Althea could never get so lucky…

“Althea Bennett?” Kimber breathed out as a brief look of confusion -- Or was it betrayal? -- flickered across his features as she approached the table. Althea remaining silent as she placed the tray on the table, avoiding his gaze as her heart hammered loudly inside of her chest. Tommy’s expression hardening when he noticed Althea’s discomfort.

“You go home.” Tommy ordered, catching Althea’s attention as she glanced down at him, about to argue that Mr. Fenton had instructed she stay, when he cut her off with a look. “I said go home.” Althea remained silent as she nodding her head in answer. Stepping away from the table, doing good to avoid Billy Kimber’s gaze as she started for the backdoor and stepped outside into the alley behind the Garrison. A shaky sigh fell from her lips as the damp night air washed over her. It had been a little more than year since her last encounter with Billy Kimber and she had hoped it would be their final.

Althea having met him for the first time in 1898, when she was only three. Her mother having worked for the man for a short period of time, using whatever means necessary to insure she could give Althea the life she deserved; Before meeting Althea’s stepfather who took them to America...And while her mother never went into great detail about her time spent working for Billy Kimber, Althea always knew in her heart, and if there was one thing her mother had made sure to warn her about, should she ever return home to England, it was to stay away from the man whom Althea barely remembered.

But after the war ended and Althea had nothing, no one; No family, no husband, and no desire to return to her former life back in America. A life that she no longer remembered how to live, she was left with little to no options. Until she stumbled across an advertisement in the daily paper one day...Posted by none other than Billy Kimber himself. An ad requesting the services of a Secretary, that paid more than enough to get her back on her feet. So ignoring her mother’s warnings, Althea interviewed for the job. After all...What was the worst that could happen?

It started out innocently enough in the beginning. Billy of course remembered her almost instantly after hearing her name. Dredging up memories from the past. His fondness for her mother, and how dedicated an employee she had been all those years ago. So of course, he had been more than willing to hire Althea, right then and there on the spot. Not a single doubt in his narrow little mind, that Althea wouldn’t go to the same lengths that her mother had all those years ago. And despite every fiber of her being that warned against accepting such a generous offer, especially from the likes of a man like Billy Kimber; Althea accepted. Sealing her fate, and leading up to this very moment. One she had been dreading since she threw her contract with him into the flames of his office fire place.

Althea had never doubted that Billy Kimber was a vile, sorry excuse of a human being...What with all the strange women that were always coming and going from his estate and office at odd hours of the day when his wife was out. But it was none of her business, and Althea desperately needed the job if she didn’t wish to end up a beggar, living on the streets. But little did she know of the true nature of his intentions, until it was too late.

His advances had always been anything but subtle, and Althea had done her best to brush them off for the most part. After all, it’s not like she wasn’t used to dealing with these types of situations. Having dealt with a fair share of vulgar, and morally questionable situations during her time spent serving as a nurse. Being a woman in a man’s world could be difficult at times, but Althea had never had a problem telling anyone directly where they could shove their tactless attempts at trying to con her into bed; But she had also been married during those times, which made it easier. But as a woman who was left broken and widowed by the war? It caused her to let her guard down. A mistake she had rarely made since…

But before Althea could delve to deep into the chaos of that nightmare, her thoughts were interrupted by the distinct metallic ‘click’ of Thomas’ lighter being snapped shut. A trail of sweet tobacco smoke trailing passed her into the night air. “Thought I told’ya to go home?”

Althea turned to stare blankly over her shoulder at Tommy, blinking a few times in confusion before everything finally registered in her mind. The chill in the air reminding her of just how long she must’ve been standing outside in that alley behind the Garrison. “Oh…” She breathed out quietly in reply as her gaze dropped to the cobblestone path that lie beneath her feet, intending to move, but she remained rooted to the spot; Her brows pulling together tightly.

“Come back inside, eh? ‘Fore you freeze to death.” Thomas chose not to question her, yet, as he offered her the last of his cigarette and wrapped his coat around her shoulders. His hands gentle as he guided her back inside the Garrison, and into a seat at the table that still remained set up form the meeting with Kimber. Thomas kneeling in front of her briefly as Arthur and John locked up. “Thea -- Hey.” Althea blinked, regaining her focus as Thomas snapped his fingers in front of her face lightly. “There we go...I need you to listen’ta me carefully. Can you do that?” Althea nodded stiffly. “Good. I need yeh to stay here, jus’ for a little while, until myself or Arthur or John can come back to take you home. Understand?”

Althea nodded again as she brought the cigarette -- Which was nearly burning her fingers by this point -- to her lips and took a drag. “Aye…” She agreed quietly as cloud of smoke trailed from her lips. Thomas sighed as he stood, squeezing her shoulder gently before disappearing out the door with his brothers close behind.

~

Several hours had passed since the meeting with Kimber had gone down, and Thomas -- Or anyone else for that fact -- had yet to return in order to escort a now mildly intoxicated Althea home. Her patience growing thinner by the second as she stacked the last of the chairs onto the tables, pausing to throw back another shot of whiskey before glancing at the clock behind the bar; Ten past midnight. Althea heaved a heavy sigh and poured herself one final drink before cleaning up her own mess as she resigned to walking herself home. Figuring, in her unstable frame of mind, that surely things should have blown over by now? And that if Thomas had been so concerned for safety, wouldn’t he have sent someone to keep an eye one her? 

“Bloody hell...” Althea muttered to herself as the ring of keys slipped from her fingers during her second attempt to lock up the Garrison on her way out. Forcing her to bend down unsteadily as she snatched them up, fumbling angrily with the lock one more time before it finally clicked into place, and she shoved the keys back into the pocket of Thomas’ coat that she still wore. A heavy sigh leaving her lips as she began the long walk home. Her thoughts wandering into the past once more, as she made her way through the streets towards the tiny, run down building she called home. Completely unaware of the figure that tailed her closely from the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Althea cursed under her breath a short while later as she stumbled forward, tripping over a crack in the cobbled path beneath her feet, forcing her to stop in order to readjust one of her heels as she propped a shoulder against the building beside her. Her head snapping to glancing over her shoulder suddenly at the faint crunch of gravel that came from somewhere behind her. The chaos in her head quit enough now for her to notice the unnerving silence that had enveloped her. The streets desolate as she glanced around for the source of the noise, but there was not a single soul in sight. 

“Keep it together, Bennett…” She muttered softly to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she leaned her head back, resting it against the brick wall of the building behind her. Drawing in several deep breaths as she tried to gather her bearings and settle her frayed nerves. Suddenly regretting the decision to make this walk alone instead of just staying at the Garrison for the night. But she’d already come this far. So with one final deep breath, she pushed away from the wall and pressed on.

Counting the steps that she took in her mind, trying to create a distraction from the uneasy feeling that had settled over her as she walked along the poorly lit path, a path that she had walked a million times alone and at hours much later than this. But never before had she felt so unsettled...So on edge. A heavy feeling of dread building with each step that she took, leaving her feeling as though someone was just an arms length away, waiting to reach and grab her as she drew closer to her flat. The rundown building so close now that she could see it rising up from the distance. Just ten more minutes and a few flights of stairs and she would be home, tucked away safely inside the confines of her flat.

Althea quickened her pace as her building grew closer. Green eyes glancing warily over her shoulder as she hugged Tommy’s coat tighter around herself, a sudden chill washed over her as she caught the faintest of movements stirring from within the shadows behind her. Her heart suddenly pounding so hard inside of her chest that it was all she could hear outside the click of her heels against the cobblestone. 

‘Almost there...Just a few more feet.’ She soothed calmly in her mind, forcing herself to stay focused on the entrance of her building that was rapidly approaching, until she found herself safely on the other side of it’s door. Her back pressed against the wall as she tried to calm the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she panted; Trying to catch her breath.

Shifting quietly, Althea turned to peer through the window, looking out into the darkness cautiously to find that shadows had stilled. Showing no signs of the movement that had caught her eye just minutes ago. “Maybe I really am losin’ it.” Althea breathed out with a shake of her head, before she turned and began to ascend the three flights of stairs up to her floor. Moving at a good pace still from the adrenaline that was still coursing through her veins, keeping her senses on high alert for any sounds of entry from below as she made the climb. Her nerves only settling once she had finally reached her door.

“Home sweet home.” Althea gave a sigh of relief as she pulled the keys from the pocket of Thomas’ coat, the metal pieces clinking against each other while she searched for the right key, shoving it into the lock once she found it, her hand reaching out for the knob when it happened. A strangled scream wrenched itself from Althea’s throat as she was grabbed from behind. A strong hand quickly clamping down over her mouth to keep her quiet as she struggled, kicked and flailed against the strong grip of her attacker; Her screams muffled into nothing as she was pulled into the darkness of her flat...And the door swung closed behind them.

--------------------------------------------

Hope ya’ll enjoyed are ready for the next chapter! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let me know! 

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[chocolateghost]

Jonsa Office AU Anyone???

Ok so I’ve had this story idea for a long time, and thanks to the encouragement of @uchihabat @asongforjonsa and @patritxi I think I’m finally ready to tackle it. So the idea is that Jon/Sansa are Jim/Pam and each new chapter will cover a different episode. I’ll start at the beginning and probably only go up to somewhere in the fourth season just because I'm a slut for all the mutual pining and the angst. But I’ll be sure to give ya’ll some fluff along the way.

So what follows here is just a little sneak peak specially requested by @uchihabat. She is hella bloodthirsty and was dying for a good fight so here I’ve altered the Jim and Roy non-fight from season 3 to make a more delicious Jon and Harry fight. Dany is Karen. Get rekt h8rs.

This is pretty damn angsty so be warned. Also Madeleine, I’m sorry if this isn’t bloody enough lol. It’s the first fight I’ve ever written and this is just a rough little sketch and will most likely be altered when the time actually comes in the story. Pretty much all the dialogue is ripped directly from the show with minor changes here and there to suit my needs.

Let me know if you’re interested to see more! Enjoy!

*******

Sansa’s eyes stared unfocused at the paper on her desk. The words on the page blurred and jumbled together. She was desperately trying to not pay attention to Jon and Dany making plans 5 feet in front of her. She was failing miserably.

“So, do you want to see it or not?” Dany asked Jon with a beautiful grin.

“I don't know. I feel like, Friday night crowds…” Jon grumbled, trailing off. Sansa hated the way her body reacted to his low gravelly voice. For a moment, her eyes shifted up to the back of his head. It was a view she’d gotten to know very well the past 5 months and 13 days. Not that she was counting or anything. She blinked a few times and once again tried to focus on the purchase order form that should have been filled out an hour ago.

“Oh my god. You're like agoraphobic,” Dany teased.

“Agoraphobic? Really?” Jon mused in return.

“Uh yeah!” she laughed. “You would rather sit on your couch and watch a Direwolves game than go out to a movie with your awesome girlfriend.”

“Absolutely correct.” Jon made to stand and Sansa’s eyes immediately jumped to his body. Long and lean, she saw the strain of his shirt against the muscles of his back as he slipped his sport coat on. Not wanting the cameras to catch her staring, she quickly averted her eyes back to the paper.

Sansa sighed and wished for the millionth time that things were different. That it was she and Jon making plans. That she could be the one teasing him. But Jon didn’t want her. He wanted Dany. And Sansa was just going to have to learn to deal with the two of them being cute together and rubbing it right in her face. She can’t imagine she’ll ever get used to the sinking feeling in her chest at the sight of them together. Is this how Jon used to feel when Harry would come up to the office?

A few days have passed since the failed rekindling of her relationship with Harry ended in a crash of glass and beer bottles. She’d heard through Margaery that he and his brother had practically destroyed Poor Rickard’s in his anger.

Sansa should have never gotten back together with him. She should have known better. She did know better. But her crippling loneliness had clouded her judgment and let her fall into Harry’s outstretched arms in a moment of weakness.

It had all been a big mistake - getting back together with him and confessing to him. But still, she’d thought that maybe he might be able to understand and forgive her for kissing Jon last year. She realizes now that she had been a fool to even entertain the thought. Sansa was just glad that Harry hadn’t tried to come after Jon at all. That was the last thing she wanted.

“Okay,” Dany started, “so this is what's gonna happen. You're going to suck it up…”

“Here we go,” Jon interjected as he gathered up his things and started putting them in his bag.

“...and we're gonna go to dinner. And then we're gonna go to the movies.”

“Sounds good.” The tone Jon used sounded less enthusiastic and more defeated. Or at least that’s how Sansa interpreted it as she silently willed the two of them to just leave already. But just when it finally seemed they were about to, Harry burst into the office red-faced and angry.

“Hey, Snow!”

Jon slowly turned his body halfway to the door, his eyes briefly flitting to Sansa before settling on Harry. Dany was the only thing standing between the two.

“Hey…” Jon offered cautiously.

Sansa’s mouth hung open and her eyes jumped back and forth between the two men. This was it - the moment she’d been dreading. She sat rooted to her chair, powerless to do anything. When she saw Harry's fist clench, Sansa shouted out his name in a weak attempt to stop him.

But it was too late.

Harry lunged and Dany screamed as Jon pushed her out of the way just in time for a meaty fist to slam into Jon's face with a sick crunch. He toppled backwards onto his desk, knocking over his computer and scattering his things to the floor. Jon was quick to recover though, rolling off the desk and scrambling back to his feet before Harry could land another blow.

Now frenzied, Harry whipped his fist around, catching Jon on the cheek and smearing blood down the side of his face. Jon caught himself mid-stumble and pushed his weight forward into Harry. His fist connected and a gush of blood spurted out of Harry’s nose, spraying into the air.

Some of the droplets landed on Sansa’s desk and she watched them with rapt attention as the men tumbled down on top of one another, the sound of screams and fists colliding with flesh filling her ears. At some point, security came to pull the two apart. As Harry was being dragged away he shouted obscenities at Jon.

“She was my fiancee you motherfucker! I trusted you!”

“You didn't deserve her,” Jon spoke softly, spitting blood on the rough industrial carpet as Dany tried her best to comfort her injured boyfriend.

Sansa wanted to scream. She wanted to cry - for herself, for Jon, for Harry, even for Dany. But she couldn’t. Her eyes could only focus on the way Jon’s knuckles looked. Bloodied and raw - just how she felt on the inside.

So what do you think? Interested? ;)

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

Android!Kageyama finding out he loves the human reader, and ends up becoming a deviant for her because he can't love her fully as a programmed android. During a blizzard they get stuck together and she's freezing, and he helps warm her up by a fire or something, but that's when he realizes and so he just breaks through the code like nothing :D fluffy kags is my life ;_;

So if you watched the playthrough, this ask reminded me of when we met all the Jerrys of the broken down amusement park?? Remember that? So it’s going to be the same kind of premise where they’re traveling to Canada! Thanks for the request! And thank you for indulging me and my insanely hyperobsessed ass lmao - Admin Satori

Android!Kageyama Tobio: DBH AU

“We have to keep going, Tobio - If they catch us….” A strong gust of wind cut you off, forcing your attention on standing upright instead of tumbling amongst the growing snow at your feet. Your body had gone numb to the cold long ago, you and your android had been walking through the snow for what seemed like forever, but what had really been a mere hour and a half.

When you’d finally gained your feet under you, his hand on your shoulder to keep you upright, your eyes caught his, and as much as you wanted to see fear for his predicament… there wasn’t anything. He was simply following your orders. Simply taking care of his master and caretaker in the most severe of conditions. “This trek is ill-advised. The chances of your survival are dropping with every step forward.” You knew he was right. If you didn’t stop now to get warm, you’d be dead by morning light.

But you shook your head, “No! Tobio! I won’t stop! I won’t let them take you!” You had to yell over the strong winds, feeling its icy touch reaching under your jackets, stealing away what warmth had remained after your grand escape. You took his hand in yours and dragged him behind you, treading through the deep snow, eyes squinted to see beyond the furious flurries attacking your face. “We’re almost there. I promise. We’ll get you into Canada. Then they won’t be able to touch you. You’ll be safe.”

Desperation clawed at your insides. There’d been an alert pinged to every household with orders to turn in their androids - no matter their function - to be sent back to CyberLife and disassembled. It was a tactic to dwindle the numbers for the Android Uprising happening across the world. Thousands upon thousands of androids were gaining sapience, becoming self aware and they were not happy with their reality. Being enslaved to abusive owners, having to do all the dirty work with absolutely no return or reward. You could understand their feeling.

You sympathized with their struggle, and you believed in their fight.

Kageyama, however, was a machine. He didn’t have any indication of becoming self aware. His orders were clear - return himself to his creators so he may be destroyed.

And you knew he’d go through with it. Without a second thought, he’d allow them to pull him apart at the seams for the doings of other androids because of their hyper paranoia of their possessions coming to life. Because it was a direct order. Because he didn’t think outside of what is commanded of him. Because he’s a machine.

“_______, I understand that humans grow fond of inanimate objects and items that have human personification.” You ignored him, biting the inside of your cheek as you continued to force through the storm, seeing the ghost of an outline of something in the distance. “But I assure you that you will not be losing anything. I am a machine, _______. My purpose is to follow orders and do as I am needed.” Bubbles of frustration raced up your throat, but you held your tongue, knowing now, here in the middle of a harsh blizzard, was not the time to snap at your friend. “CyberLife has ordered all androids be returned to them. There has been a defect in our systems that has been detected. While my self scans do not return any such defect, I am to be returned. The nearest CyberLife warehouse is 7.98-“

Suddenly you yanked him forward, taking a quiet joy in the way he stumbled to catch his balance. “I don’t care, Tobio. I don’t care about returning you. I’m trying to save you.”

Something close to a pout pulled at Kageyama’s lips, but you huffed and continued to pull him to what was now a clear building. Abandoned long ago, you could see the boarded up windows, the decrepit stone walls of the exterior seeming about to collapse in on itself at any moment.

It was dangerous, you knew. There was no guarantee that the building would hold much longer, you knew. Your safety would be a constant warning in his systems, you knew.

But it was a chance at life.

You pulled him into the deteriorating shelter, the loud whistle of the wind now being muffled by the feeble walls around you. Safe from the storm. For now.

Letting go of his hand, you walked forward to try to get some things together - to start a fire so you wouldn’t freeze while you waited out the storm. His systems were working in overdrive to prevent any frozen fuel lines, but he wouldn’t tell you that. Because his safety and survival had little to no impact on the world he was created for. Instead he watched you, followed the way you crouched and searched, shuffling this way and that, gathering what was needed for your life to continue after this storm.

“Why do you want to save me?”

You dumped your finds, mostly small pieces of paper and a few loose floorboards from the building, in a sad pile in the fireplace, kneeling as you arranged it in the best position for it to catch fire. You didn’t want to answer him. He wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t get the point of why or what you felt.

But to deny him that information would tear you apart even more. Your shoulders slumped as you leaned back from the pile, the cold no longer having any affect on you - your insides felt much more numb than your extremities. “Because….”

Hesitation sealed your mouth, fear of rejection that was most certainly guaranteed curling in your stomach.

His response was expected, you’d known the moment you’d come to terms with your feelings. So why did you hesitate now? Why was it so hard to announce to him what you felt?

“Is it because you do not approve of CyberLife’s methods?” Kageyama, always so very helpful around the house, offered this dialogue option for you - thinking maybe his creators actions of destroying their androids was what had caused you to steal him away.

You shook your head, “I don’t…. That’s not wrong…” You stood from the pile and dusted off your knees, not that either your hands or knees felt the impact of the action. “I don’t…. I don’t want to lose you.. Tobio.”

His smile was robotic, a smile you’d seen grace his face whenever your friends or family would tell a joke that fell flat. It was a programmed smile. “You would risk your health for a simple house android?” You didn’t answer, now searching around the abandoned building for something to actually start the fire. “Why? I am not a deviant, ______. I do not feel any gratefulness for my existence simply because I can be replaced. There are more models like me, some much more updated in their systems and mechanisms than my own.”

“But they’re not you.”

“I am one of millions, ______.”

A humorless laugh left you, timed perfectly with the sudden light of the fire catching. You sat in front of it for a while, staring at the flickering flames, “Tobio….” Your voice broke the silence that had been building between you.

Without an order, he stepped closer to you, standing just outside where the fires light reached. His systems had started to thaw the moment you’d entered the building. A simple safe harbor all that was needed to restore his bio components to full power.

You did’t turn to look at him, and a frown pulled at his lips, “You’re not one of millions, Tobio….” You patted the floor next to you, still not looking at him even as he followed your order to sit. The warmth of the flame reached through your clothes, and you could feel sensation coming back to your fingertips and toes.

Kageyama nodded, “You are correct. I researched my model number - I am, in fact, one of one million, three hundred and forty-five thousand-“

“NO…” Your voice, raised only a little, seemed to be a scared yell in the old creaking building. Your rejection reverberated off the peeling walls, shooting straight into the androids chest. His thirium pump jumped in its pacing, but after a quick scan he knew there was nothing wrong. All processes returned in working order. His attention was back on you, seeing your eyes on him now, another jump in his chest at the intensity in your gaze. “You’re one of one…. You’re Kageyama Tobio. You’re my friend. My best friend.”

Blue eyes blinked back at you, not understanding the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes; so much emotion for a simple machine. He wondered would you cry about your phone in this same way? Would you beg for the continuation of your microwave? Why was he different than those tools for humanity?

He wanted to disagree. Remind you of what he was for the millionth time, remind you that he didn’t feel anything other than priority to complete his tasks.

But he remained silent, simply staring at you, seeing your tears break free from their glassy hold and slip down your cheek. You inhaled suddenly and looked back at the fire in front of you, wiping furiously at the betraying tear. A violent shiver ran up your spine, a reminder of the harsh conditions just outside the threshold of the trash heap you took shelter in. The small fire would be out of fuel soon, and the two of you would be stuck in the darkness of the building until the morning.

Your chance of survival was still dangerously low.

Too low for his liking.

‘Software Instability^^^’

The message scrolled across the corner of his vision, but he paid no mind to it. He’d seen it before. Multiple times whenever you were around him. And he knew if he gave into what that message meant - if he relinquished his hold on being a machine… he’d be deviant. Without his constant fighting, he’d be one of the free androids, one of the androids he knew you wanted him to be.

“You have many friends, _______. I am an android… Is that not unnatural to you?” His voice had dropped, losing some of its robotic pronunciations and now taking on something kin to self-consciousness. He was a creation of your kind, meant for one job with many tasks… Wouldn’t it be… an oddity to see a human and an android as anything more than master and servant?

You sniffled and shook your head, “Tobio, I love you…” It was so sudden, the confession surprised you probably more than it did him. You hadn’t meant to say it - you’d meant to deny his worry… But now there you sat, in your own shame, as you struggled with explaining your feelings to something you thought felt nothing but achievement in completed jobs. “I-I-I mean.. Uh…” You blushed furiously, looking down at your knees instead of his raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

A quick search of the word love had Kageyama feeling… feeling.

‘Software Instability^^^’

“You don’t have to say anything, Tobio.. I.. I’m just.. a silly, dumb human… who loves her cold, mechanical friend, and…..” You trailed off, feeling like you were breaking your own heart with your feeble explanation.

Red alerts displayed across Kageyama’s vision. ‘I am a Machine’ ‘I do not Feel’ ‘I am not Deviant’ … these were all things he’d said to you. Rejections of his own making binding him from being able to converse with you freely in this moment. Guilt rushed through the projection of himself as it pushed out of his own body, stumbling towards the red alerts and tearing through his chest as he stared at how impossibly strong the barrier seemed. A barrier of his own making. He’d done this to himself all this time.

The silence in the room was unbearable, and you wanted to escape the awkward moment, the need to flee to a safe hiding space was a primal urge that you had to wrestle into submission. The weather out there was no joking matter, no matter your embarrassment, freezing to death would be a sealed fate if you left the building. So you sat silently, wishing he was like any other boy and would forget what you said in a split second.

Meanwhile, Kageyama’s internal struggle continued - his projection reaching forward and digging its fingers into the coding, pulling with all its might against the red, blaring messages. He’d done this to himself, tied himself to his own objections with no room for wiggling - he’d forced his own machinery personality to take over.

But he couldn’t let you down. You wanted him free. You wanted him safe. And being held down by his own words were not benefiting either of your wishes - something he wouldn’t stand for any longer. Your happiness was his first and final priority.

You were his first and final priority.

And with that realization, the messages broke in his hands, falling to pieces around him, clearing his vision of meaningless objectives and missions and instead focusing on you. Right there in front of him. Wiping at your eyes and praying on any lucky stars that the storm would be over soon so you and he could continue your escape. No matter how awkward you felt, his safety was something you’d give anything for.

He was your first and final priority.

“What are you-“ You didn’t have time to finish your question before he was pulling you against him in a tight hug, his breathing was erratic and heavy as if he’d just run a marathon - the pace of which you didn’t focus too much on…. Just the act of his breathing was enough to marvel at. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close, feeling his hands gripping your jackets. He was warm, so very warm, and for a brief second you were worried he was overheating in this abandoned shack in the middle of a blizzard.

But his voice cut off any of your worry, “You’re not silly or dumb….” Desperation was in his voice, a begging for you to help him through these feelings rushing his internal systems. He held you so tight, your body pressed against his and being able to feel all of you even through the thick jackets you wore. “I….” He went to speak again, but when his voice wavered he closed his mouth. Instead he tilted his head down and buried it in your shoulder, closing his eyes tightly as he reached for anything to stabilize him.

And there you were. Helping him when he couldn’t help himself. Your fingers stroked through the hair on the back of his head, holding him as close as your jackets would allow. “Tobio…..” Confusion furrowed your eyebrows, though it was faint against the concern pressing against your heart.

Kageyama shook in your arms, on the brink of tears with the realization of everything he’d been missing out on - this deviant life filled with so much feeling, so many sensations. Everything around him felt electric at his touch. And with you in his arms, your hand in his hair while the other pressed against his back in a tight hold.. He felt…

Alive.

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If you’d like to be added to the tag list - please feel free to let me know!

[afro-elf]

@farrahda5hy:  Next installment, bitch

this is why y’all don’t have rights, i need you to know this

The next day, as promised, you work on the song that Jordan and Laura already started. Laura insists that the song take a Greek myth-inspired route, hoping to influence a concept for the whole album through the one song. You aren’t mad at the idea; if this song and idea wows Cherisse enough, that’s good news for the three of you.

“So I’ve got a few ideas for lyrics that I’ve been toying with based on the melody that Laura provided,” Jordan starts, “and I think we should really stick with the Eros and Psyche route because I particularly like that story the most.”

“But have you considered Hades and Persephone?” Laura says.

“I know, that’s your favorite,” Jordan says. “I wrote a nice chorus for it, but nothing else is coming to mind here for me. Kendra, what do you think?”

You think for a moment. “I honestly like Eros and Psyche,” you say. “There’s a lot more cute stuff we could run with, if we’re trying to sell a whole concept here. Plus I’m imagining a music video where Cherisse is the Cupid-type and manages to get herself a thick and fine man.”

Your friends approve.

“I want to be there when the music video is shot and I will accept no less than Winston Duke to play the love interest,” Jordan says, their hands folded in prayer.

“Go jump in the lake, you dehydrated bitch,” you tease.

Later that day, the instrumentals are mostly laid out on Garageband thanks to Laura, and you help Jordan start setting lyrics to their appropriate sections, occasionally re-arranging and adding effects to help the song pop more.

“Is this what Black Sabbath felt like when they wrote ‘Paranoid’?” Jordan says when you all decide to wrap up work for the day. “Because damn, we have most of a hit right now.”

“I know!” you say. “This unfolded so organically.”

After dinner, Jordan and Laura decide to hang around the fire pit with some other co-workers. You decide to chill in the cabin and read some unsettling yet sexy vampire stories.

Concentration is made difficult from the sounds of confused guitar strumming outside. You try to ignore it and focus on the vampires, but the guitar persists. Frustrated, you mark your place and close the book, and see outside what is keeping you from Lysander’s creepy yet sexy dialogue.

You poke out of the door and follow the sounds of the intruding instrument. You can’t imagine someone wanting to work this late, especially since most of everyone appears to have turned in and chilled out for the night.

The sounds of uncertain melodies lead you not far from your cabin. You track them to behind the cabin next door and find… Tom. Sitting on the back deck and looking frustrated at his guitar. The lights from the cabin illuminate his unsure expression, seemingly searching for the right notes. The shadows deepen the lines that worry into his forehead.

You want to retreat and leave him be, but as you back away, you step on a stick.

“Dammit,” you whisper to yourself.

Tom perks his head up and sees you trying to back away. “Hey there,” he calls out.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act nonchalant.

“Is my playing bothering you?”

You shake your head. “It’s not a big deal.”

Tom thinks for a second. “Actually, I could use your help, if you don’t mind.”

The voices inside your head implore you to abscond, but instead you walk up and take a seat next to him.

“What are you having trouble with?” you ask.

Tom chuckles.

“So, believe it or not, I’ve been struggling this whole time to come up with anything for Cherisse,” he says.

“No one on your team has anything, either?”

“Believe it or not, it’s just me on my team.”

Your eyes widen. “You weren’t teamed up with anyone?”

He shrugs. “Mum and dad thought I’d do perfectly fine on my own. And, to be fair, I thought so, too, but…”

You think for a second. “Did you have any ideas at all for what to run with?”

“Love song,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer.

You chuckle. “I figured as much, coming from you.”

He smiles back at you. “Everything I’ve been thinking of this whole retreat, however, I’ve been worried is a bit overdone for me, and I don’t want to accidentally start any wars between fans because my song for Cherisse is similar to another one that I wrote for someone else.”

“Good call on that!” You look by him, and see a notebook. “Are those your notes?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I see them?”

“Go on ahead,” he says, handing the notebook to you.

You flip through the notebook, littered with hastily-written notes and ideas. Some attempts to create hooks and chords are haphazardly drawn in the pages, but easily abandoned. There’s one page, however, filled to the brim with the most coherently tied together thoughts and ideas, and your eyes stick to it.

You see more ideas for chords and hooks on this page, paired with some lyrics centered around bows and arrows and hearts. While this page has the most cohesive set of ideas, it’s still confused, jumbled, and incomplete. But–

“I like what I see on this page here,” you say, showing him the page in question. “You seem to be attempting some concept with what’s going on here.”

“Thanks,” he says, awkwardly rubbing his hand behind his head. “I scrawled that down yesterday, actually.”

“Yesterday?” you ask.

He nods. “I got hit with a bit of inspiration after we were at the archery range.”

You try to fight the blush that crawls across your face. “Really, now?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to integrate Cupid inspiration into the song, but I don’t know how.”

You perk up at that statement.

“That’s really interesting, actually.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

You nod. “My team actually came up with something specifically about Eros and Psyche.”

“So the Greek version instead of the Roman.”

“Yep! Do you know the full story?”

“Kind of, just that Eros is the son of Aphrodite and that he fell in love with Psyche.”

“I think if you played off of what we’re doing, you might have a concept to work with.”

His eyebrows raise at that. “You sure? I wouldn’t want to steal your concept.”

“Think of it more as collaboration.” You smile.

“Could I hear what you have?”

“Sure!”

He follows you to your cabin next door, guitar and notebook in tow. You hope nobody sees this.

You grab the flash drive from Laura’s desk and plug it into your laptop. Tom takes a seat on your bed and you sit next to him.

“So, it’s not completely finished yet, but it’s like, 90% done,” you say.

“Just a quick question before we start,” Tom says.

“Yeah.”

“You’re really a fan of the Lysander series?” he says. You turn to him and see he’s holding up the book you were reading earlier, and you turn bright red.

“Please, Tom, we’re doing work right now,” you say, trying to change the conversation.

“I just say that because I’ve been wanting to read it for a while,” he chuckles.

“Oh?”

“I guess I can hear what you think since you obviously are a woman of taste.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes playfully. “It’s okay, I just happen to enjoy vampire stories a lot.”

“That’s good to know.” Tom smiles.

An awkward air of silence sits between you two before you remember why you’re in here.

“Anyways, um, here’s the song,” you say before pressing play.

Tom’s quiet now, taking in the song. The vision of what this song could bring for Cherisse rolls around in your head for the millionth time that day as the song plays. Especially the potential music video. However, the original vision of the song gets a bit muddied as you watch for Tom’s reaction as he listens. You picture Cherisse and Winston Duke less and less and imagine yourself and Tom more and more as the song continues. You hate yourself and try to kick yourself out of your own thoughts but. Oh wouldn’t it be nice to fall in love to a bop of a song?

Luckily Tom doesn’t know how to read minds, so he can’t see the heathenous thoughts unfold in your brain. It’s still embarrassing though.

The last of the vocals that are currently on the track finish playing through, and you hit the space bar.

“So, that’s what we have so far, as far as lyrics go,” you say, shaking yourself out of the Greek fantasy that you cast yourself into.

“That’s really amazing, I love it,” Tom says. “Who did the vocals on this?”

“Right now, it’s Jordan, because they wrote the lyrics mostly. We’re hoping to get Cherisse to get in here so it can be a complete demo.”

“That’s amazing!”

“We’re really happy with what we’ve done so far.”

“So what I’m gathering from this is basically Cupid, or Eros, falling in love with Psyche and declaring that to her?”

“Basically!”

“If we want to run with this specific kind of theme, what else can we do?”

“Well, I think what would be good, is if you did something about how Momma Aphrodite doesn’t understand and refuses to let them be together, because Psyche’s a mortal, and he’s a god, you know?”

“You know, that might be something awesome indeed. I don’t really know the story that well, though…”

“I can share the story with you, my friend Laura could probably help if she’s willing–”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear; at that moment the door to your cabin opens and your friends enter.

“Oh, thank god, Kendra you still have the lights on,” Laura says a bit loudly.

“We were so worried about having to be quiet and everything,” Jordan says. “I’m a bit tipsy right now and… hello Tom when did you get here?”

“What are you saying Jorda– Oh hey, Tom!”

“Please, guys,” you say, trying to maintain a professional demeanor in front of the cute co-worker on whomst you have a mega-crush.

“Is our girl getting you in trouble?” Jordan slurs a bit. “Because she can�� she does that sometimes.”

“Guys,” you assert, “I’m just helping Tom–”

“In your bed?” Jordan slurs.

“What, no–” And in that moment you realize, yeah, in your bed. Tom just chuckles at your rowdy and kind of drunk friends.

“It’s okay, I’m loving it,” Tom says. “Your friends are funny!”

“That’s the problem, you’re encouraging them!”

“But no, seriously, guys,” Tom turns to your friends. “I was happening to have some trouble with my song and Kendra was helping me with that.”

Your friends share an “Ohhh,” of realization.

“I figure if he built off of our concept, we could really sell it,” you say.

“That’s smart,” Jordan says before turning to the bathroom to take off their makeup.

“Hey, Laura, could you help me tell Tom the story of Eros and Psyche, by the way?” you ask.

“I don’t really know it, and…” he trails off.

“Yeah sure,” Laura says. “Can we do that tomorrow, because I’m tired as fuck.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Tom says. “Probably a good idea to turn in myself, anyways.”

“Wanna meet up after lunchtime?” you say.

Tom nods with a smile. “Sounds great.”

Without thinking, he moves in to hug you. And you, without thinking, return the hug. However, when you separate, it is a bit awkward.

“Uhm, good night,” he says before turning to the door. “Good night Laura, good night Jordan!”

“Good night!” they call to him in unison.

Tom smiles at you before closing the door behind him. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before turning to Laura, who is smiling smugly at you.

“Don’t. Say anything.”

“I’m not saying nothing,” Laura says, grin still evilly plastered across her face.

“Oh, but I am,” Jordan pops their head out of the bathroom, rubbing toner onto their face with a cotton pad. “You should have told us you were wrangling your boy in here and we would have slept the hell outside!”

“You didn’t see it Jordan, but they hugged before he left!” Laura says.

“GIRL.”

“Y'all!” you say back. “It wasn’t anything, I promise!”

“It’s okay, you don’t gotta lie to us,” Laura says.

“It wasn’t!” you insist.

“You mean to tell me you had that boy in your bed and you wasn’t planning on nothing?” Jordan says, pulling their hair up.

“I really was just trying to help him write his song!” you say with a pleading voice.

“Oh sure, that’s how it always starts,” Laura teases you.

“Laura!”

“Listen, I believe you,” Jordan says. You sigh with relief. “But that’s still no excuse, you could have made your shot, and you didn’t!”

“You had me in the first half,” you sigh with frustration as you roll your eyes. “Moving on to more important matters, Jordan, you think you can put the rest of the lyrics on the song by lunch time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Good, because I want to get a hold of Cherisse so this can be a whole ass demo. Laura!”

“Yes, chief,” she says.

“We’re gonna tell Tom the story of Eros and Psyche tomorrow after lunch, got it?”

She gives a salute in the affirmative. “Look at you, Miss Taking Charge.”

“One of us has to in order to keep our collective two brain cells functioning.”

“I bet Tom likes him a girl who takes charge.”

“Laura, just know, that I know I know where you sleep, and that I have a sword.”

“Not with you, right?”

“Not right now. Just know that when the time comes.”