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cobaltperun · 5 months ago

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omg wait , if possible could you do a tara x amber to tara x reader , soccer!au with like r and amber being on the soccer team together and competing against each other to make tara fall for one of them but tara chooses amber first but amber like ,, betrays her or cheats on her and that’s when tara realizes she always loved r and they end up together

Sweep 'er off Her Feet

Tara Carpenter x female reader (Request)

Masterlist

Word count: 2.3k

Soccer has been your passion since you were a child, you spent hours chasing ball back then, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you could one day play at least for a school team. It wasn’t that you weren’t good, you definitely put in effort to get good, but the issue was Woodsboro, there just weren’t enough girls interested in soccer in your primary and middle school.

So, when you started high school and realized there was an actual soccer team you jumped at the opportunity. Easily filling in any position that was empty at the moment. There was one position you exceled at more than the others though. Sweeper. You could play offensive as well, but there was something inherently appealing in the idea of defending your goal, being the last line of defense before the goalkeeper and the opposing team. Waiting and reacting, making sure your team didn’t have to catch up to the other team, and could instead focus on taking the lead.

And you were damn good at it. And Woodsboro high school team quickly became one of the top high school teams in the local competitions. You had a mean combo. You’d do your part as the sweeper, pass the ball forward to your team’s striker, Amber Freeman, and she was one hell of a striker.

The two of you just pulled that combo off, winning another game just in the nick of time and you were celebrating, cheering with the students from your school that came to see you all.

“That was amazing!” Tara exclaimed from the stands as you and Amber stopped near her.

“The mastery of yours truly,” Amber bragged, being the one who scored the goal.

Tara laughed. “Don’t take all the credit, Y/N’s pass was great as well,” she remarked, winking at you as you grabbed a towel and began wiping the sweat off your face.

Amber rolled her eyes and jokingly smacked you on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, hear that? You’ve got a fan,” she teased causing you to glare at her.

It wasn’t a secret that you had a crush on Tara, but the thing was, Amber was also interested in her. “Easy there, Freeman, you’re turning green,” you shoved her back.

Amber scoffed and turned her attention to Tara. “I am really grateful you take notice of our sweeper. It’s such a boring position I was worried no one would realize she was on the field,” she offered Tara a confident smirk.

“Boring?” well sure, it wasn’t exactly the most exciting position, but it wasn’t boring!

Tara lightly scratched her cheek and looked away, chuckling a bit uncomfortably.

“Wait, really?” you had to ask her.

“A bit,” she held up her fingers and smiled apologetically, but the look in her eyes told you she was only teasing you. Actually teasing, without any harm meant by it, unlike Amber whose teasing always held at least a hint of malice within it.

You turned to the side dramatically. “The betrayal!” you overreacted with raised fists and grinned when Tara laughed.

~X~

This dynamic continued, Tara would always be there on your matches, she would always cheer the loudest, and the three of you would always chat after the game ended. And you slowly got closer, your friend groups merging and eventually it wasn’t just chats after the matches. It was study sleepovers, hanging out, going to the movies together.

Tara was important to you, so important you feared telling her about your crush on her would ruin your friendship in some way, so you remained silent.

You should have spoken up.

~X~

Tara, after finishing her last classes headed toward the soccer field where you had your practice before another big game. She watched you, practicing your long passes, each time sending the ball with incredible precision. It was no wonder Amber had an easy time, you would pass the ball to her on the perfect spot to make the path to the goal as easy as possible.

And then there was Amber, the polar opposite of you, just passing time on the field. That was the thing with Amber, she was pure talent, monstrously talented, she barely practiced. And there was a time she thought you were the same, but as she got to know the two of you she learnt you spent hours practicing, simply out of your love for soccer, and so you were arguably a much better soccer player than Amber, your position just wasn’t as prominent. Tara admired you for that, for the constant effort and dedication.

“Hey, Tara,” Amber saw her and came up to her, that charming, a bit seductive smile on her face.

“Amber, hi,” Tara replied, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and smiling at the black-haired girl. She had a bit of a crush on Amber, and she was glad whenever she got to have a proper conversation.

“You know, there’s a party at one of my teammates’ place tomorrow night, I was wondering if you’d like to come as my date?” Amber asked her directly, without a hint of doubt in her voice or posture. In Amber’s eyes the answer was obvious.

And Tara had to agree, the answer really was obvious. “Of course, I’d love to go with you,” she replied, blushing as Amber pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the lips, thought she quickly kissed the team striker back.

~X~

A month later you still occasionally sulked that Amber ended up asking Tara out. But, you refused to show it in front of Tara, the two of you still hung out, you still spent enough time together due to hanging out in the same group. And much like with anything else in her life, Amber remained assertive, feeling the need to show that Tara was her girlfriend.

Who did Amber think you were? Someone who would wreck a relationship?

Hell no!

And Tara looked fairly happy with Amber, so you definitely weren’t going to interfere in any way.

You could still sulk though. So, here you were, at a party after winning local tournament. It was loud, there was some alcohol, though you really never found appeal in it. So even though plenty of people around you drunk you went for a coca cola instead.

“You know, if you wanted to get the girl, your position really doesn’t make you instantly noticeable. No one notices defenders until they either fuck it up, or really create a miracle,” Liv, one of your teammates, pointed out.

You rolled your eyes at that and took a sip of your drink. “Yeah, well, being a sweeper has grown on me, I don’t feel like switching just yet.”

But before Amber could reply both of you saw Tara rushing outside.

“Was Tara crying?” Liv asked as you jumped to your feet.

“She was,” you ran after Tara, worried about what could have happened to cause such a reaction from usually composed girl.

~X~ About ten minutes earlier ~X~

She thought her relationship with Amber was going strong, she thought Amber liked her, wanted to have a steady relationship with her. She didn’t think Amber would leave her alone during a party she wasn’t really feeling like coming to anyway. Yes, your team won the competition, but Tara had a test tomorrow and she didn’t feel like spending the night in a loud, smoke and alcohol filled place.

She was looking for Amber all over the huge house, hoping to find her and let her know she was leaving. She did not think she would see Amber in a bed, naked, riding a guy that looked several years older than her.

“Amber?” she managed to say the girl’s name, stopping her movements for a few moments. But instead of stopping, or looking ashamed Amber just continued on, aware that Tara was there and Tara felt sick.

She ran out of the room and slammed the doors closed behind her. She leaned against the wall, her eyes wide and her breathing so rapid she had to use her inhaler to calm down. Yet the tears still fell down her cheeks. A part of her hoped Amber would come out, explain herself, but deep down Tara knew two things. First that no matter what Amber said it wouldn’t change the fact that she chose to cheat on Tara, and the second that, as much as it hurt to admit it, Tara understood Amber wouldn’t be coming out, and so she ran down the stairs, still crying and only wishing to leave the damn party.

She ran outside, the air suddenly feeling rather cold. “Tara!” she heard your voice and stopped. You must have seen her crying, or at least rushing to leave, and you got worried. You got worried and Amber cheated on her, how ridiculous was this situation? She wiped her tears, but they kept falling as you caught up with her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, what happened? Should I get Amber?” you asked, because of course you would. Why wouldn’t you assume that Amber and Tara were still fine, and that Amber would be able to fix this.

Tara shook her head and without thinking about it she just blurted out what she saw. “I saw her cheating on me,” she sobbed, watching as you went from concerned to shocked, to angry and then you turned around, seething and heading toward the house and somehow Tara realized you were likely going to go in and confront Amber about her affair.

Or was Tara the affair? How long did that last? Tara would probably never know.

“Y/N, wait!” she cried out, going after you and grabbing your forearm. You stopped, but you still looked toward the front doors, still ready to get into a fight. “It’s not worth it,” she told you softly.

“But thanks, it means a lot,” she managed a small smile.

“It’s worth it to me,” you argued, but you finally turned around and for a moment raised your hands toward Tara, as if to hug her, but you dropped them. Unsure if that was what Tara wanted when that was exactly what she needed, just to be held and comforted for a moment. So, seeing the initial intention, Tara just stepped forward and hugged you, letting the tears flow freely as you hugged her. “You’ll find someone better,” you assured her while rubbing circles on her back.

“That was my first relationship,” Tara confessed, and she liked Amber. She didn’t think her first relationship would be the one she stays in for the rest of her life, but she didn’t think it would end like this.

“Next one will be better,” your words did little to make her pain lesser, but she did find some comfort in them, in the thoughts of future. And what your words failed to do your presence and touch accomplished.

~X~

About a month and a half later you found yourself in front of Tara’s house, gathering courage to finally confess your feelings, or at the very least ask her out. A lot has happened since that night, mainly you and Amber still having a falling out, and it was damn lucky that you were done with high school, because soccer would be awful if you had to keep playing together.

Tara moved on, it took a bit of a time and a hell of a lot of support from you and the rest of your friends, but she moved on. You just hoped she didn’t decide soccer players in general were no longer a plausible option for her.

Just as you thought that Tara opened her front doors and hugged you. “Hey there, sweeper,” she teased you as the two of you pulled away.

“Hey there, cheerleader,” you teased back as she let you inside her house and led her to her room. You had a movie night planned and you were just a bit early, as usual. Tara wasn’t a cheerleader, hell, you didn’t have cheerleaders, but Liv once joked that since Tara cheered the loudest, she was the leader in cheering, hence, a cheerleader. “What are we watching tonight?” you asked.

“No idea. Mindy is choosing, so probably a horror,” Tara told you. You were sitting at her table and watching curiously as she circled around you and hugged you from behind. “Maybe I should hold your hand, since you can’t handle horror,” she suggested only half joking.

“Sure. Though I’d like it if you held my hand more often than that,” you blurted out, much more confidently than you thought you would.

Tara’s eyes widened as she looked at you. “Y/N?” you swore there was a hint of hopefulness in her eyes.

“Would you go out with me?” you asked softly, a bit worried about her response and making things awkward, but fine with whatever she decides.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” she hugged you tighter and leaned in, kissing you gently. “I thought you’d never ask, and I would have to ask you out instead tonight,” she teased as you grinned like a fool.

“And why didn’t you ask me out?” you nudged her, twisting in your seat so you could hug her back.

Tara adorably tapped her chin with her finger and looked toward the ceiling. “I guess I was too scared it might ruin our friendship,” she admitted, and you laughed.

“Same! I didn’t think you would like me back!” you confessed, feeling much lighter now.

Her eyes shone brightly, she looked happy, happier than she’s been in a long time. “I guess you swept me off my feet, my sweeper,” she laughed, kissing you once more. And you couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy.

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #scream #x reader #x female reader #perunrequests

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lixzey · 1 year ago

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professor, professor

September 1, 1993

Your heels clicked against the stone floor as you walked inside the Defense classroom late at night. Your eyes scanned the room as you reminisced about the days you spent inside the classroom as a student.

Professor Dumbledore had hired you at the last minute as an assistant for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. At first, you were skeptical—why would the defense against the dark arts professor need an assistant? All the defense professors you had when you were a student never had assistants, so this was a first. The headmaster didn’t elaborate much; all you knew was that it was needed.

You agreed, of course, since you terribly needed the extra income. The job you had barely paid for rent and utilities, let alone food. You had been living in the muggle world since that fateful Halloween night in 1981. You spent the last twelve years blending in with muggles, though it isn't much of a problem since you were a half-blood, but you lost everything you had ever known. You lost your family in the most tragic way possible; they weren’t related to you by blood, but they were family—the only family you’ve ever known.

August 31, 1993

You sat in the living room of your one bedroom flat with a tin of biscuits in your lap that you bought along with a few groceries with the last of the money you had, hoping it would ease your hunger and last a few more days until you could get another job.

For the last twelve years, you’ve been in and out of jobs—not one lasting more than a year. You had been a waitress, a bartender, a street sweeper, and a cashier at a grocery store and café; hell, you even tried to become a stripper out of desperation.

You sighed deeply, rubbing your temples. You were thirty-three yet you still haven’t figured out your life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; it never was. Voldemort took everything, leaving you miserable and alone.

While you were reading and eating the biscuits you had just opened, you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion. You weren’t expecting anybody—you haven’t expected anyone for the last twelve years. You took a deep breath, placing your book and the tin of biscuits down on the coffee table in front of you before getting up to open the door. When you opened the door, your eyes widened. Albus Dumbledore was on your doorstep.

“P-Professor Dumbledore?”

“Good evening, Miss L/N.” Dumbedore’s blue eyes twinkling. “May I come in?”

You nodded, dumbfounded, stepping aside to let your old professor inside. The Headmaster made his way to your living room, sitting comfortably on your worn-out couch.

“This is an unexpected surprise, Professor. Is there anything I can help you with?” You asked as you grabbed a chair from under the coffee table. “I don’t usually have visitors, but I have tea; if you’d like, I can start the kettle.”

“There’s no need, Y/n,” Dumbledore answered with a smile that almost looked like pity. “I won’t be staying too long, my dear.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Then why are you here, Professor? How did you even find me?” You asked, confused as to why he was here; it certainly wasn’t a visit to his old student.

“I hear you’re looking for a job.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

“How’d you know that? I haven’t stepped inside the Wizarding World in almost thirteen years.”

“I have my ways, Miss L/N.”

You rolled your eyes at your old professor. “Yes, I’m looking for a job. Hell, I’d take any job.”

“How would you like a job at Hogwarts?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. A job at Hogwarts? The place you once called home. It seemed too good to be true. “What kind of job?” You asked, still skeptical about the offer.

“I need an assistant for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor,” Dumbledore explained. “I believe you are well-suited for the position as you are one of the brightest students in your year. The pay isn't quite as much as I'd like to offer, though,” Dumbledore continued. “But there is room and board, of course, and full meals and such.”

It was as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs. A real job, a consistent job. A job at Hogwarts, the place that had been a second home to you for the important years of your life. The place where you met your friends and formed bonds that were stronger than any other.

“I'll take it.” You said without hesitation.

“I thought you might,” Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with satisfaction and moved to stand. “I'll see you tomorrow at the start of term, Miss L/N.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, my dear girl.” Dumbledore smiled. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Have you read the Daily Prophet recently?”

You shook your head, your brows furrowing. “I haven’t looked at anything from the Wizarding World since James and Lily died.”

“I suggest you take time to invest in a copy of the Daily Prophet, Miss L/n.” Dumbledore smiled again, though his eyes were telling otherwise. Before you could utter another word, he apparated out of your flat with a loud pop.

You hadn’t gotten a chance to get a copy that night since the next day was the start of term and you were already in a hurry to pack your trunk. You still have no idea what your old professor was implying, though you didn’t let it bother you too much.

As you continued to look around the classroom, memories of your Hogwarts days came flooding back.

The way you and your friends—James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus—would always sit together in every class Always plotting pranks for the Slytherins—mainly Severus Snape and other unsuspecting students.

There was Lily, who always told you not to encourage the boys, but she also had a mischievous side you loved.

Then there were Mary and Marlene, who loved to chatter and talk, always sharing all the gossip with you and Lily.

And finally, though he was a part of the Marauders with you, Remus. You loved him more than words could ever describe. You and Remus had dated at the start of your fifth year. He was the calm to your storm, the voice of reason when you and James were off planning another ridiculous prank. Remus was kind and caring, always making sure that you were okay and safe. He was your best friend, your confidant, and the love of your life. There was something about Remus that made your heart flutter every time he smiled, or how his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he was passionate about. You were drawn to his intelligence, his kindness, and his unwavering loyalty.

They were your family, the family built on love.

You felt a pang in your chest at the thought of Remus. It had been years since you had last seen him—years since he pushed you away after James, Lily, and Peter's deaths and Sirius’ betrayal. You couldn’t blame him, but you were hurting too at that time. It wasn’t fair that he broke your heart because he couldn’t take the pain of losing your friends. You have resented him for breaking your heart ever since.

You sighed, brushing the painful memories aside. Maybe this was the fresh start you'd been waiting for. A chance to leave your past behind and embrace the future. With a new job at Hogwarts, life was looking up.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realise that someone had entered the room until you heard a deep, familiar voice behind you. “Who are you? What are you doing in this classroom?”

You quickly whipped your head around to see the person you weren't expecting to see in a long while—Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway, looking confused and shocked at the sight of you. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like an eternity, silence painfully enveloping the two of you.

“Y/n,” Remus finally managed to say. “H-How have you been?”

All the pain and hurt came flooding back with a vengeance. You felt your heart loudly thumping in your chest as anger coursed through your veins. “Cut the crap, Remus,” you spat. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Remus’ eyes widened, clearly not expecting hostility from you. “I-I’m the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You scoffed, your eyes narrowing at him.

“I wish I wasn’t.” Remus shrugged.

“Oh hell no, I am not working with you.”

Remus raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Before you could reply, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall entered the classroom.

“Ah, I see you two have been reacquainted," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be the new professor,” You snapped, glaring at Dumbledore. “I would have refused the job if I had known.”

“I understand your reluctance, Miss L/N,” Dumbledore said calmly. “But I assure you, Professor Lupin will be an asset to Hogwarts. You will be assisting Professor Lupin in his classes. I believe the two of you working together will be beneficial for both of you.”

Remus scowled. “What do I need an assistant for? I’m perfectly capable of teaching; thank you very much.”

“I assume you're aware of Professor Lupin's condition, Miss L/N?” Dumbledore asked, making Remus scoff.

“Yes, but I-”

“That settles it, you would be substituting for Professor Lupin once a month, until he is healed and deemed fit to work by Madam Pomfrey.”

“With all due respect, sir, I can’t work with him,” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring at Remus. “I don’t care how dire the situation is; I refuse to be around him.”

“Now, now, Miss L/N,” Professor McGonagall chimed in. “You two will have to learn to work together. You both are highly capable, having been the top students when the two of you graduated. The students will benefit from your expertise in defense against the dark arts,” Professor McGonagall gave you and Remus a soft smile. “You both will need to set aside your differences and work together for the sake of the students and the school. It’s time to put the past behind and focus on the present.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a mix of anger, resentment, and frustration. The last thing you wanted was to work with Remus after everything that had happened between the two of you. But seeing the determined and hopeful looks on the faces of Dumbledore and McGonagall, you knew you had no choice.

You let out a heavy sigh, turning to Remus with a stern look. “Fine, I’ll do it. But I better get a raise.”

Dumbledore chuckled. “Of course, Miss L/N.”

Remus nodded, his expression unreadable. “I understand. I’ll do my best to make this work.”

Dumbledore nodded at Remus. “I have faith in both of you. I trust that you will be able to put your personal feelings aside and work together for the betterment of Hogwarts and the students.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. The past was haunting you at every turn, and you hated it. But you had no choice; you terribly needed this job, and you weren’t going to let it go just because of him.

“One more thing, Miss L/N, Mister Lupin,” Dumbledore started, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “The two of you will be sharing living quarters for the whole semester.”

“What?” You and Remus both said in unison, disbelief written all over your faces.

“Consider it team bonding,” Dumbledore said with an amused smile. “I’m sure the two of you will find a way to make it work.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling dread settling in the pit of your stomach. Sharing living quarters with Remus—a man who had broken your heart and pushed you away after everything that had happened—was not something you were looking forward to.

You gritted your teeth, forcing a smile as you nodded. You didn't have a choice but to go along with it, despite the knots of discomfort and resentment that twisted in your stomach. It seemed that working at Hogwarts was going to be even more complicated than you had initially thought.

“At least tell me we have separate rooms.”

“Of course, Miss L/N,” Dumbledore nodded. “You will each have your own separate rooms, fear not.” You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, feeling a bit of relief at the mention of separate rooms. At least you wouldn't have to spend the whole semester sharing a room with Remus, a thought that made your skin crawl.

“Well then, we shall leave you two to make the necessary arrangements,” Dumbledore said, giving you and Remus a reassuring smile before leaving the room with Professor McGonagall.

You and Remus stood in awkward silence for a moment, both of you avoiding eye contact. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and it was suffocating. You sighed and finally turned to Remus with a cold stare. “Don't get too comfortable, Lupin,” you warned. “This doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends again.”

Remus flinched when you called him by his last name, but nonetheless he nodded, understanding your apprehension. “I don't expect us to be best friends again, Y/n,” he said quietly. “But for the sake of the students and the school, we could at least try to get along.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still not convinced. “We'll see,” you replied with a dismissive tone.

Remus met your cold gaze with a resigned expression. “I understand,” he replied evenly. “I don't expect us to be friends again. I don't expect us to be anything other than colleagues.”

You scoffed, feeling the weight of your past grudges and hurts. “Colleagues. That's all we'll ever be.”

Remus nodded. “I know.”

The two of you stood there in uncomfortable silence, knowing that once again, your lives had become even more complicated. You both needed this job and living at Hogwarts, and you wouldn't let your personal differences get in the way of it, no matter how difficult it might be.

But one thing’s for certain: it was going to be an interesting year at Hogwarts.

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therailz-art · 1 month ago

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Nell :)

#ocs #original characters #oc art #manga #Hell Sweepers #therailz #railz oc #Nell

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dailydoodlesofp · 9 months ago

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I heard some of you were wondering about Romeo's outfit from this comic. So after a few revisions, I finally finalized it and here you go, my take on his stalker outfit. Extras below:

just so you know, I've always thought Romeo would rock a capelet cuz hell yeah, capelets r so cool.

and then I remembered the existence of Lampwick from Disney Pinocchio and used his design to do a fusion dance with P's Monster Sweeper's Hunting Apparel and the King of Puppets

and da da ta da~

do you think Romeo is like a human oven? Like he's always warm in some way? Like it's winter and it's cold and my brothers are out here wearin only T-shirts and jeans and when you feel their hands, it's warm like what kinda biology shit is goin on-

#my art #lies of p #twins au #lies of p romeo #lies of p carlo #lies of p pinocchio #p lies of p #pinocchio #doodles

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babysukiii · 9 months ago

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fallingforyou (1)

lottie x fem!reader enemies to lovers au <3

// lottie matthew’s does not like you. you’re annoying, preppy, and way too nice. lottie doesn’t fail to show you time after time just how much she hates you. you finally get the message and steer clear of her, until senior year, when you both get paired up for a science project. //

i’ll never make it right (if you don’t want me ‘round)

you don’t really know why lottie matthews hates you, but she does. she has since freshman year, and up until senior year, nothing changes. lottie isn’t known for being a mean person… in fact, she’s actually very nice. but for some reason, she just hates you. you don’t really know what you did, or why she treats you like you’re absolute garbage… but she does. you aren’t really the type to beg or try to make someone like you, especially someone popular and rich like charlotte isobel matthews.

you’ve never really been popular at all. your best friend is natalie mary scatorccio, and you’re mostly friends with the ‘nerds’ and ‘dorks’. you’re even friends with a few theater kids. everyone at school knows who you are, but you aren’t really interested in your social status. in fact, sometimes in lottie’s opinion it was almost like you didn’t care at all. you walked around so carefree and unapologetically yourself… lottie for some reason hated that. she hated that while she had to take her meds, and act like someone she’s not; you get to be whoever the hell you want.

today though, everyone around lottie matthews was feeling her wrath. it wasn’t unusual for lottie to be catty, or snappy when someone deserved it, but today it seemed as if the yellowjackets sweeper was angry at everyone and everything. you were steering clear of her since this morning and natalie noticed the way you had been avoiding her as well. it wasn’t unlike you to try and avoid lottie; she was unnecessarily mean and always had a sardonic response to whatever you had to say, but you never avoided natalie.

“jesus christ, what the fuck is wrong with you today, matthews?” mari asks in frustration after falling right on her ass. lottie had just knocked her out of the way in order to get the ball during practice. mari was currently glaring up at lottie from the grass she had landed on. “get your head in the game, and maybe this wouldn’t be a problem.” lottie responds in a way that everyone recognizes. she’s clearly in a mood and it causes the girls to exchange looks of uncertainty. coach scott blows his whistle as soon as mari stands up.

“alright, that’s enough practice for today. everyone get changed and go home.” he dismisses the girls who all sigh in a bit of relief. as everyone begins to get off the field, tai makes her way up to natalie; jackie not too far behind. “hey, what’s wrong with lot?” tai asks in a whisper, as they all rush into the locker room. “she’s just being an ass because ms. weinstein paired her up with y/n for a chemistry project.” natalie says, and mari groans. “what does that have to do with us??” the raven haired girl complains.

“why can’t she just ask ms. weinstein for a new partner?” jackie asks and natalie smirks, “y/n already tried. i think that’s why lottie’s pissed.” natalie states, and jackie throws her head back and lets out a laugh. “oh wow, that’s a new one. y/n wanting to switch partners? she’s gonna get lottie an easy ‘A’ and lottie’s being a di—“ jackie cuts herself off as soon as lottie begins to walk up to them; a scowl etched onto her face. “you assholes do realize that my locker is right on the other side of yours right? i can hear everything.” the taller girl points out.

you used to always try to talk to her. you’d smile at her, and compliment her outfits. yet she’d always scowl at you or have a clear expression of annoyance, and say something harsh. she noticed you stopped smiling at her in the middle of junior year. this year, you’ve barely even spared her a glance. lottie didn’t even think you realized you were both in ms. weinstein’s class together, but apparently you did. “you’re not the only person who’s unhappy about who you got paired up with. it’s just a few weeks. try not to be such a cunt about it.” natalie says seriously, and lottie rolls her eyes in response.

“i can’t help it if she’s insufferable.” the taller girl mumbles under her breath, causing mari to shake her head and make a face. “she’s insufferable?” mari asks sarcastically as she finishes getting dressed. “i think y/n is nice. she let me copy off all her notes in trig last month.” shauna shrugs as she brushes her in the mirror inside of her locker. “yeah, she remembered my dog had surgery during the summer and she brought me a bag of treats for him when the year started.” akilah pipes up, causing lottie to scoff.

“okay, so she remembered a few things you said, and she let you cheat off her work. who cares? she’s still annoying.” lottie states before swinging her duffle bag over her shoulder and walking out. natalie shakes her head, slamming her locker shut. “i swear if she so much as makes y/n shed a single tear, i’m kicking her ass.” natalie says in a tone so serious, nobody dares question it. though, most of the girls knew how sensitive you were; everyone did. it was only a matter of time before lottie actually did hurt your feelings.

the next day at school, you and lottie have yet to discuss anything about the project. you two haven’t even decided on a topic, and you’ve never been unprepared for a school assignment before. but right now, your pride was too important to you. you didn’t want to be the bigger person and cordially talk to lottie. you’ve tried that; you’ve done nothing but try and be polite or nice. yet all of your efforts have been rewarded with rude comments or bratty behavior. so you were done trying.

“okay i want you all to get into your pairs and talk about the project you should’ve gotten started on yesterday.” ms. weinstein announces, causing you to nearly sink into your chair. you can feel a pair of dark eyes on you, and you look over in lottie’s direction to see her already staring at you. as if she’s waiting for you to make the first move. you internally sigh, realizing that you’re probably going to have to be the bigger person again.

finally, you get up and hesitantly make your way over to the empty seat beside lottie. “hi.” you greet her a bit quietly, and she nods, “hey.” she retorts in a low, uncaring manner. you take a breath, “maybe we could do a study of saponification reactions. it’s just an option, i honestly don’t care what topic we do.” you admit and she nods, thankfully not saying anything rude yet. “we can do that. i don’t care either.” her voice is curt and the answers are short. you nod slowly as you open your notebook to the next blank page, and label it.

lottie notices you use a blue color pen to label it, and then a black one to take actual notes with. you have a whole bunch of colored pens in different colors for your notes, and how prim and proper your writing was seemed to irk her too. then her eyes seem to dance up to your face; the way your brows creased together in slight concentration. your hair was a bit frizzy during this time of day because school was almost over, and lottie could smell your overwhelmingly girly perfume. it smells like vanilla.

“did you want to work on this at your place or mine?” you wonder out loud, the pen never leaving the paper. “yours.” lottie answers way too quickly, but thankfully you don’t say anything about it. you nod, “okay. here’s my address and the number to my landline in my room.” you say as you turn to a new page, and write your phone number and home address down. you tear the page out when your done, and hand it to lottie who says nothing as she takes it.

lottie pauses for a moment, thinking about how much she hates her house. she wonders if maybe you hate yours too. “we could work in the library if you don’t want to work at your place.” the noirette actually sounds considerate as she says this, and you look surprised for just a second, before offering this shy smile that she hadn’t seen directed at her for nearly a year and half now. “it’s okay! i don’t mind working at my place. my little sister practices the violin after school sometimes… but she’ll be quiet if i ask.” you assure her and lottie only nods in response.

“anything else you wanna warn me about?” she inquires a bit sarcastically, and you nod. “my older sister is kind of a bitch.” you say bluntly, taking lottie by surprise. she’s never once heard you curse. at all. you can’t help but laugh lightly at her reaction, “she’s not that bad though…” you trail off before the bell rings, and you immediately start putting your things into your backpack. “wait, when did you wanna start?” lottie questions, and you shrug. “whenever your free after school just come over.” you assure her and she furrows her brows as she stands up.

“but your debate club—” she starts and you cut her off, “i quit last month. i’ll see you later!” you rush out of the room before lottie can say another word. she huffs; this was going to be a horrid few weeks.

#lottie matthews #lottie matthews x fem reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie x reader #yellowjackets #lottie x fem reader angst #lottie matthews x fem reader angst #enemies to lovers #lottie matthews x you #lottie mathews x reader #lottie matthews x y/n

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ariseur · 4 months ago

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Hii I would like to make a request of "🍰time check on pre-nibelheim Cloud" with 'stay with me til i fall asleep' and 'fake dating', I hope you are comfortable with this and congratulations (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

✧˖° time check!! 🍰 : currently 12am when i’m starting this!

✧˖° edit ; i just realized this said pre nibelheim cloud and i am so sorry i forgot that! i hope this is okay 😭

lazing in bed isn’t so bad, you think. looking up at the ceiling with only the distant ambience of sector 7’s slums outside your curtained window was almost a little soothing to you as you fell in and out of slumber. the lingering pain in your side hurt like hell though — considering you were practically thrown at a wall a day or two ago by one of shinra’s most frustrating creations: a sweeper.

the warm sheets pressed against your back wasn’t much help to the stinging sensation that burrowed into your midriff, only adding to the extensive warmth that was enveloping your body with cool waves of sweat periodically layering itself against your skin. your eyes flit along the darkness of the room, squiggly shapes appearing along your line of sight when you focus on them for too long.

you can’t bring yourself to shift any more along the mattress as you hear the familiar clicking of a doorknob. you assume it’s tifa from how gently the door is opened, maybe coming to bring you a fresh change of bandages or more water that you’d politely decline.

you’re grateful she had let you bunk in this odd room she keeps underneath the bar, a small room for sure, but nonetheless better than bleeding out in the street or in a stuffy medical hut.

but only when you hear the quiet call of your name do your eyes dart to the right, spotting a familiar silhouette of spiked hair and a large buster sword on their back. your ‘boyfriend’, cloud strife. seeing cloud was somehow both difficult and pleasing, an oxymoron in a world where everything felt too simplistic to function. you’re not quite sure why he proposed the idea of the title to you, especially when you guys weren’t technically . . dating.

perhaps another tactic that benefited him in this battle with both the assholes of society, shinra included. or perhaps he just somewhat liked the idea of calling you his girlfriend, although you decided to push that thought far down into the creases of your brain as he approaches you; heavy boots against wood as they made their way towards you.

“you’re still up?” he asks, a monotonous tone that almost sounds deafening against the quietude of the dark bedroom.

“mhm,” you hum, hands clasping as they place themselves on your stomach. he shuffles over to the edge of the bed, placing a small glass filled with water and a small plate of toast on the worn down circular night table next to the bed, the wood lowly creaking with the weight of the objects.

cloud presses his lips into a thin line as he tries to figure out what to say. surely, a ‘boyfriend’ wouldn’t leave his partner possibly writhing in pain while he just walks away and continues on with mindlessly patrolling around seventh heaven right? therefore his mouth opens for another question, perhaps it comes out a bit wary when he says, “how’re you.. feeling?”

you turn your head for what feels like the first time in ages, the side of your cheek pressing against a cool part of the pillow to which you revel in, the foreign fabric refreshing your senses as you look at cloud. “not very well,” you mumble, voice raspy from the lack of use.

“oh,” is all he responds with. it almost looks a little scary, the way he simply just stands there, face invisible due to the fact that the only light illuminating his figure was the sliver of the backlight emerging from the doorway. “do you want me to,” he pauses, “go?”

your eyes stay on him for a moment before eventually upturning to the ceiling, eyes adjusting to the script dimness you’re met with on the roof. the ringing in cloud’s ears become unbearable as you both stay silent for a beat, so thick. so quiet.

you suppose he takes it as a cue to leave as he says nothing more and instead goes to exit the room before you whisper a tiny, “cloud?”

it shouldn’t be surprising, considering with how much mako and how much training it takes to become a soldier much less a mercenary would cause his ears to still perk up. he turns back to look at you, this time giving you a glimpse of three quarters of his face with the deep yellow lighting past the door. you purse your lips, watching the way his eyebrows remain furrowed with his head cocked.

“can you stay?”

“stay?” he parrots.

“until,” you almost stop yourself, halting your words as if you debated with yourself inside of your little head, tugging at the words as you weave them inside your brain before ultimately; you end up just spitting it out. “until i fall asleep, maybe?”

cloud didn’t miss the way the last word fell off into a meek mutter, your face wholly turning to the other side, the darkness of the other side capturing your face as he stands in the doorway. he contemplates for a moment, and you almost regret even asking him to stay. it almost felt a little odd. maybe you were desperate for comfort; or maybe you just needed him.

“i mean, it’s alright if you don’t want to. i get that it’s late—“

“sure,” you’re met with his curt answer, whipping your head back around as you hear soft footsteps advance. “are you sure you don’t need anything?” he asks, navigating around the room blindly in search of a chair to pull.

you manage a meager, ‘mhm’ as you hear a cut off scrape against the floor and see cloud’s silhouette lifting it and walking over to your bedside. he places the object as gently as he can but you can’t help but snicker as it still makes enough noise anyway to which he huffs.

“thanks, cloud.”

“don’t mention it,” he mumbles, sitting down on the wooden seat as he leans back, scooting his hips ever so forward so as to get more comfortable. it’s a difficult view, he must admit, considering he can’t see your face at all and vice versa, but he can’t let your pleas go unheard.

he know he’ll wake up with a kink in his neck from ensuring you get a good night’s sleep even with your hinderance, and he knows that either tifa or marlene would end up running down to check on you in the morning and see the two of you — but for some reason, he doesn’t care.

even when it’s midnight, seeing your head nuzzle into the pillow as your legs shift to a foreign part of the bed in search for a cool spot rather than the sweat barren sheets you’ve already claimed, is merely so refreshing to him.

crap, he thinks. you really do have him wrapped around your finger.

𐙚 join my taglist !! ; @alieeelinn @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 dottie’s 500 event | 🍰 time check and 🍡 action prompt!!

𐙚 non-500 requests are closed — august fourth, 2024 [ 12:49 am ]

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noneorother · 7 months ago

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Hi, I’ve only read one meta by you yet, but you seem to be just the right person to ask this: did you notice how many people in the scenes outside the bookshop are wearing orange, in series 2?

Any idea what that’s all about? Is it just esthetics, an echo of the bookshop‘s columns, or does it have a filmographical significance? Everytime I watch the show there seem to be more orange clothes, once you start seeing that, it’s crazy how many there are!

Hey thanks for the ask! I mean, you have until 2026 to read more of my drivel so; pace yourself! Orange clothing is definitely an *interesting* choice for extras in film. You almost never see it in background actors clothing because... it draws the eye! The fact that they included so much orange, yellow, and loud patterning in the extras in season 2 is a real decision to throw film tradition and S1 cannon out the window.

I would like to submit my own theory that the choice was made as a deliberate nod to time travel. But first, a little background.

Compare two crowd scenes on Whickeber street from each season: It's kind of nuts that even at microscopic resolution we get such a HUGE difference.

That's not to say orange is missing. Here are the only two extras wearing orange in S1, and they happen to be in the same scene in episode 2, when Newt and Shadwell meet for the first time, discussing occult beings "hiding in plain sight". (witches in this case)

We also get some pretty obvious bright orange in main characters in S1: Madame Tracy and Beelzebub. We meet Tracy in orange as she immediately reveals to Newt multiple hidden identities, see her again wearing orange hair when she communes with spirits, and finally all decked out in orange when she is being possessed by an angel (a person hiding inside a person). Beelzebub wears an orange sash and medal as a high ranking Duke of Hell, so orange is maybe their house colour, or a prestigious colour for hell in general, but after season 2 we know Beelzebub doesn't always have the same face, and is hiding intentions of their own.

Orange doesn't have much biblical significance, mostly because the colour orange was mostly seen as "fire" or "bright" coloured until way after the bible was transcribed, and orange dye wasn't really a thing in the European world until significant trade with east Asia developed. Here's the only other bright orange thing to appear all season, (in a deleted scene): Crowley hiding in plain sight, posing as a maintenance worker.

I think we might be able to draw the conclusion from season 1 that orange is a colour associated with the "Hidden Occult/Power". Not necessarily only hell, but more as something otherworldly, that's hidden in plain sight. (Interestingly, we never ever see Anathema or Agnes Nutter in orange. So I wouldn't say it's related to witches at all.)

In season 2 however, orange is everywhere. More specifically on extras' clothing and the outside of Maggie's record shop.

Maggie seems to be the only main character to wear bright orange herself (E2).

But this is by far my favourite one: in the back of the crowd of demons getting a Shax pep talk in S2E5, there's a regular human extra wearing bright orange sitting amongst the army, completely unnoticed by both demons and audience, observing the plan.

This really set off alarm bells for me, because there's a very Terry Pratchett precedent for powerful and unnoticed orange-wearing characters in the discworld series : the time monks.

Terry's character Sweeper seen here on the original cover of Night Watch. The time monks' clothing and general philosophy is based on Thai buddhist monks, who (like in many buddhists sects) wear donated, saffron-dyed robes in orange and yellow/red to symbolize flames of purity, and to separate them from the world of gross matter, like a fallen leaf from a tree.

In the discworld novel Night Watch, the time monks are responsible for monitoring and cleaning up the timeline, pruning it like a bonzai tree. They are everywhere and yet unnoticed, inside the flow of time yet not of it. And they are the ones who guide the main character through the process of being stuck after falling back through his own timeline, into his own past.

(Excerpt from the book where Sweeper is explaning time travel to Vimes).

Extras circling in the background are called "background actors" because they exist to not be noticed. Put in extras wearing orange/yellow and bright red, and suddenly you can track them, and notice how they are part of the crowd, but stand apart from it. You can notice when they go missing from one cut to the next, or appear to circle or jump between frames. Many extras, including the demon army watcher, also seem to be circling, and monitoring the goings-on in the world of Good Omens. Based on the meaning of orange from S1, it would seem these mere background actors are more than they appear to be. Could they even be checking up on unwarranted time distortions or timeline ruptures happening around a certain Bookshop...?

#good omens 2 #art director talks good omens #good omens meta #go season 2 #go meta #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens #go2 #good omens analysis #good omens s2 #good omens theory

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jeydeearr · 1 month ago

Text

"The Assassin, Sweeper, and Marksman"

Day 17 of drawing whatever the hell I want because this year's Inktober prompts suck.

#digital illustration #cartoon #digital fanart #inktober #cartoon art #digital painting #lupin the third #lupin iii #lupin the 3rd #jigen #lupin the iii #jigen daisuke #golgo 13 #city hunter #ryo saeba #inktober2024 #inktober day 17 #gunmen #assassin

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arahusk · 19 days ago

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Don't Question a Good Thing, Keep Playing That Jazz Characters/Pairing: Alastor/Husk, Niffty Words: 5,892 Ao3: [here] For @radiotrioweek! The trio go out to a jazz lounge. Chaos ensues.

Hands in his pockets, Husk tried to watch where he stepped. Bits of broken glass, a few rusty nails, and old cigarette butts littered the sidewalk, but he swerved around them almost in reflex. He didn’t think such a low run area would be where Alastor would spend his time. Then again, his boss thought feasting on carcasses was high-dining.

But he shouldn’t have worried. Niffty was doing a bang-up job at being the sweeper for tonight.

“Clean, clean, clean! Watch your toes!” She hummed as she got out her broom from one of her many hidden pockets and swept away the glass, the cigarettes, and even some severed fingers (Husk won’t ask about that) from the pathway with fast-paced energy. She was kind enough to do it for Husk and his bare feet, but he knew who she really did it for.

“A jazz lounge all the way here?” Husk asked his boss. He shook his head. “I’ve been around this area before. This place is a dump.”

With Niffty more or less in the lead, Husk was left walking just slightly behind Alastor. His boss seemed to be in a good mood, more or less. But after recently teaming up with the Princess of Hell, Husk supposed it would make anyone feel a little like they were on cloud nine.

Especially so soon after one appeared from their seven-year stint from who knows where.

“Husker, if you know of any good spots for a good wind down, I’d be delighted to hear it!” A little flourish of a twirl with his cane, and once they turned a corner passed an abandoned liquor store, Husk was met with a nondescript door, wedged into the concrete wall, as if the stone were ready to smash it apart. “But you should know that the best spots are always hidden.”

Husk rolled his eyes. “I remember the speakeasies, but prohibition days are a very old memory for me.”

Niffty sweeped and even started mopping, both cleaning tools in each hand, until she bumped against the door. Her eye widened, along with her grin. “Ooo, is there a big mess past here?”

Alastor chuckled, giving the girl a pat on her head. “Perhaps once we’re through with it!”

Husk already had a feeling how this whole outing was about to go.

The sky was a deep red, giving the entire area a gloomy atmosphere reminiscent of old horror films Husk just barely recalled, where only demonic rats with multiple eyes skittered about the ground. Niffty would have pounced for them were it not for Alastor quickly gathering her by the scruff of her neck and promptly putting her down by his side. In the same motion, he used his other hand which held his cane to knock on the door.

A razor-thin eyehole slid open, and with it, a razor-thin glowing eye appeared, pupil dilated so greatly it was like an ink stroke over yellow. “Hey, password? You got it?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Alastor checked over his nails as if they hadn’t been soaking in blood earlier that day. “I’m an old friend of the proprietor! Why, the slugger has been asking for my patronage to get his lounge going! How’s his wife doing by the way? Last I heard, it’s been a bit of a swing and a miss! But I don’t know what he expected from marrying a gal from Cannibal Town. Decapitation is all the rage there these days!”

The filtered laughter played around him, sounding even more eerie with the alleyway acoustics. The eye behind the door blinked several times.

“... That’s not the password.”

“Of course not! I was just making a little gab! Not to your taste?”

“Listen, freak. No password, no entry! Now go away and take your—” A quick glancing around before they finally found Niffty smiling right beside Alastor. “Your wife and your—” Another glance that then settled on Husk. “...Wait, don’t I know you?”

Husk did a quick catalogue in his mind and hoped to fuck this wasn’t another clown he owed an IOU to. “No.”

“Ha!” Alastor interrupted like a static burst through the speakers. “Very amusing, riveting, actually. But you see…”

Instant darkness, one that only left Husk and Niffty themselves visible, while a mass of writing shadows hovered over the eyehole, where that eye was now so wide it covered the entire opening. Tendrils stabbed right through the wood, and corrupted feed made Husk’s ears lean back in irritation.

“You should have just opened the door.”

While Niffty watched in awe, Husk pressed two fingers near the bridge of his nose. “This again now…?”

The sinner screeched from behind the door and, whether it was instinct or just an odd loyalty to his job, slammed shut the eyehole before what Husk hoped meant the guy was running off. Alastor’s tendrils ripped the door right off the hinges, taking a few stone blocks with it, all while the feedback continued to blare. The door was then tossed like a banana peel behind them, which was then accompanied by what sounded like a highway accident from the nearby road.

With the entrance effectively wrecked, the sinner was cowering to the side of the little room he was in. His own stubs that were supposed to be horns looked weak compared to the array of antlers that Alastor now carried on his head.

“Sorry, chum, but I am in a bit of a rush. You’ve also been quite rude to me and my entourage.” A little creak of his neck to the side, and Alastor swerved past the entrance, limbs elongating, antlers stretching further, a sleep paralysis demon brought to life. “And I haven’t had dinner yet.”

With a whimper, the sinner demon gestured towards the stairs near the back of the room. “The club is there! Just don’t eat me! I didn’t know you were the Radio Demon, okay!?”

And just as quickly, the antlers receded, and Alastor was cracking his neck again a bit to look down at the sinner with his professional grin. “Oh, silly me. Did I forget to introduce myself? I assure you, that was a bit of a faux pas on my part. Thank you for being quite understanding!”

Tucking his cane under his arm, Alastor waved to both Husk and Niffty who still stood outside. “Come on! It’s getting close to the hour!”

“Are we going to see a show!?” Niffty asked in delight, even as her eye roved toward the opening, probably getting an urge to fix it somehow. Husk hesitated. His wings felt iffy, and the sirens in the distance for the vehicular manslaughter Alastor had mindlessly caused was distracting him. But there was no point in remaining alone, so he followed quickly after. He avoided eyes with the sinner who still cowered, skin so pale it almost seemed that his boss had already sucked the life right out of him.

As they all walked downstairs, a gentle shaking through the floor, Husk had to ask his boss then. “Were you really going to eat him if he didn’t open up? Just some random low life? Thought you had higher tastes than that.”

At least when Mimzy isn’t bringing trash to your door for you to clean up.

Alastor chuckled, gazing at Husk from the corner of his eyes. “A little snack now and then does me well, you know.” He moved the cane from his arm, holding the handle in both hands. The vibration felt around them was to a beat, one that Alastor hummed to.

Husk didn’t press further, but the whole thing made him uneasy.

When they eventually made it to another set of doors at the bottom of the stairs, a double-set that looked like it would open inward, it was surprisingly devoid of any guards or bouncers whatsoever. It was also as unassuming as the one above ground, but without being broken to pieces—yet.

Before Husk could even take another step towards it, Alastor whipped out his cane to block his path, inadvertently smacking it just against Husk’s ribs.

“Now, hold on a moment, my friend!”

“Fucking hell that hurt!” Husk pressed a hand against his chest, hissing between his teeth. “What is it?!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how these things go! Tonight calls for a bit of class. We need to look the part, after all!”

Niffty was already gasping with glee, her little feet stamping the floor as she raised her head up to Alastor. “Ooo, do we get to dress fancy!? Doll me up, Sir!”

“Of course, Niffty. I made sure I came prepared for the both of you!” And with that, Alastor gave a sharp snap of his fingers, sounding as loud as a gunshot within the small enclosed space they were in.

Husk expected nothing much to happen besides a quick color change of his cuffs. The bare minimum, as always. Not like Husk really wanted to bother with such things anymore. He watched the green wisp of magic snake around him, flinching from it slightly. He was always reminded of poison, something that would one day enter his veins and finally snap away at his afterlife.

Niffty was his polar opposite, holding up her hands as she made grabbing motions at the wispy light shouting, “Mine! Mine!” She tried to catch it between her palms like it was a living thing, as if she wanted to squeeze it tight between her fingers. Maybe Alastor noticed, and let the light play around her hands and hair before finally getting to work on her clothes.

Her dress started to billow as the green light changed her wardrobe on the spot. Her maid’s skirt thinned to a flowing red dress, one with small rhinestones embedded in the hem. She was even given accessories such as a fur scarf that nearly enveloped her shoulders, and her head topped with a familiar flapper-style hat, complete with a black feather to adorn it. Of course, Alastor’s taste was predictable.

Niffty was already laughing giddily, chewing at her fur scarf, kneading it between sharp teeth. If she was saying thank you, it was muffled between the scarf and her laughter.

Husk had been so distracted by Niffty’s antics that he barely noticed when his own wardrobe change was done until Alastor’s announcement. “And that takes care of that, Husker! Why, now you’re truly the cat’s meow!”

He was about ready to land a punch at Alastor’s grinning face, chained or not, until when he raised his arm, he noticed it wasn’t just a simple color change.

There was a suit sleeve, clean pressed, and shiny cufflinks near his wrist. He looked down at himself, and saw the suit in full, echoing that of his casino days. His suspender straps were hooked over a buttoned-up shirt, connected to black pants that were made from silk. He wasn’t even bare foot anymore, now wearing expensive leather shoes, looking as if they were spit shined clean.

He was probably speechless for too long, because Niffty scrambled up to him, her eye widening and reflecting the motes of green light that hovered around him still. “Whoa!” She pointed at him like he’d grown a second head. “Fancy cat!”

“Why you looking at me like it’s weird?!”

“Because it is!”

“Now, now, we can all gawk at ourselves later! Time to get this show on the road!”

Alastor was already motioning them both with his cane, and it was then Husk noted Alastor’s own outfit. No matter what, the Radio Demon seemed to prefer his clothes to be somewhat tattered, yet act like it was all expertly tailored. His suit was still a stupidly bright red, though it lost the pinstripes, and had stitches embedded into the spaces around his shoulders. He even cemented his new outfit with a top hat, also sporting those same suspicious stitches, which already made Husk’s chest feel weird just thinking about it.

Once realizing that… he had to check, and so a quick glance up at his own head confirmed it. He made sure to give Alastor the deepest frown, snazzy suit or no. “You’re still making me wear the hat?”

Alastor tipped his own to Husk, grin climbing even higher across his cheeks. “Of course! Looks good on you. And now we can be twinsies!”

“Don’t you say twinsies ever again.”

“Threesies! Look!” Niffty was hopping up and down, pointing to her own. Her hopping got so manic that she practically leapt on Alastor’s shoulders, who held her up with one hand, barely registering the action. She might as well have been an extension of himself. “I love matching clothes with the bad boys…”

Husk sighed. “Fine. So that means whatever we’re here for is more than just beating up heads, is it?” He didn’t think Alastor would make them play dress-up if they were going to ruin it a few minutes later.

Alastor chuckled, but there was that curious glint in his eyes, a little blip in the radio filter that coated every syllable. “My, Husker. Can you not believe that I would just take you both for a night on the town? Especially after all your splendid work as the hotel staff!”

“No,” Husk immediately answered. “Not when I fall asleep at the bar for half the day and Niffty here is getting herself stuck in the vents while letting the roaches roam free.”

“I’m trying!” Niffty countered. “I have a good plan next time! I’m going to bait them with their children… then they’ll know suffering…”

“...Yeah, so, proving my point. We’re fucking shit at our jobs.” Husk stuck his hands in his pockets, though he was careful not to slouch like the usual. It was like being in a suit brought back memories of the high life for him. “So what’s your angle?”

And, for a moment, he was almost sure that Alastor would tell him just then. The smile lost its smugness for a moment, the eyes widening a little to show that he was considering…

Then, Alastor gave another laugh, high-pitched and raucous as he started to walk for the doors. “Husker, you and that little frowny face of yours! Geez! Just live a little! Ha ha!”

As if to finalize it, Alastor went ahead and slapped Husk right across his backside as he passed him by.

Husk yowled and rounded at the demon. “Wh-what are you—WHAT?!”

“Oh come on, now. Don't be such a prude!”

“Prude boy!” Niffty giggled, then poked at Husk’s cheek. She suddenly spoke calmly, with barely concealed glee. “I can fix that for you.”

Husk delicately pushed the maniacal woman’s hand away, watching for a sudden needle to sprout out from her fingers. “You know what, I’m good.”

Once the doors finally opened, Husk was transported to a world of jazzy sound and bright colors. It was almost surreal just how it all crashed into him once they entered the lounge, like a tidal wave of saxophone crescendos and upbeat giggling, along with glasses clinking against each other while the alcohol spilled over. Demons from all around the Pride Ring were here, including hellborns that mingled around sinners with barely a thought, but it was still a sinner demon’s haven all the same. Husk was losing count of just how many different-shaped heads he was seeing, and the amount of eyes or mouths were rare;y the same between each head either.

There was a bar that put his own to shame, and it helped that it didn’t have any grotesque bones and antlers as part of its decor. An array of colorful bottles and glasses lined the shelves, and a quick glance at their labels showed Husk that this was the exceedingly rich stuff—maybe even illegal. Half of these vintages were impossible to get through any normal means, and he was sure whoever managed this place had a sin list a mile long to even get such goods. But his focus on the bar made him almost miss the live stage up front, spotlights focused on a soft jazz band, with trumpets and saxophones, cellos and trumpets, and a singer that breathed fire with every verse they sang, well, it made for quite a performance.

Honestly, a lot of it reminded him of his casino, on one of its good nights. And he had a lot of good nights back in those days.

“Ah, look! Our reserved table is already set up for us! Such good service!”

Husk looked to where Alastor pointed with his cane—a table that was topped over with several drinks, and placed near a half-seat plush couch, made of azure satin. There were several demons seated at that table, immersed in conversation and not knowing what would happen next.

Yeah, this is just routine, Husk thought.

When the three got close, it was only then those demons—two of them being loan sharks, and a third looking to be an eel-like imp from the watery ring that was Envy—finally noticed them at all. “The fuck you bozos want?” spoke one of the sharks, the right side of his hammerhead hitting his partner when he sharply turned.

“Listen, kid. It’ll be easier if you just moved.” Husk flipped a coin between his claws, making sure to show off the little skull engraved on one of its faces. Even down from his prime, he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. “Our little lady ain’t so patient.”

Niffty slammed both of her hands on the table, jostling the drinks. She was already gathering some of them in an unmarked bag, and all while holding a nasty-looking needle between her teeth. “It’s time for a little clean up!”

Still, even with their threats, Husk was sure it was Alastor’s menacing aura behind them, along with the drone of his static and the shadows lengthening across the floors in subtle but discomforting ways that really sealed the deal there.

These demons were at least smarter than the one upstairs, and quickly lifted up from their seats. The hammerhead even made sure to sweep away any crumbs from their appetizers off the plush cushions. “It-It’s on us! We don’t want no trouble!”

“Now that’s a good man!” Alastor said with an optimistic air. But the static droning hadn’t stopped. It seemed to keep going until Husk had to flatten his ears just to take off the pressure.

The demons hightailed it out of there and disappeared into the crowd. And there was their table, all freshly cleaned and ready for them.

“Maybe one of these days you should just actually reserve a fucking table?” Husk made sure to let Alastor seat himself first, right in the middle of that couch. Niffty popped to his left after cleaning up the floor and scrubbing off the stuck gum from underneath the table. “Not like they wouldn’t just do that for you anyway.”

“Now, Husker. Where would the fun be in that?” He swept his arm to the seat next to him, which made Husk annoyed but still took that empty seat. “It’s refreshing to see your skills in action! It reminds me why I hired you.”

“Hired me? That’s what you call it?” Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. He flagged down a waitress immediately. “I need a fucking drink to deal with you.”

“Can I get mine with bleach?” Niffty asked with a waving hand. “I need to scrub these seats! They’re filthy!”

“If our spending money allows it, sure!”

“Can you both just not?”

Then again, maybe Husk underestimated just how refreshing a night out would be like.

The jazz lounge didn’t have games for him to play, and Hell would freeze over before he’d try and play cards with his party, even if it was just for a single cornchip. But a couple of high-end drinks and a fresh cigar that Alastor had somehow included in his suit pockets sweetened the night much more than he anticipated.

Niffty got incredibly wasted though, which made sense for someone less than two feet tall. And yet…

“Niff, are you really on your second cocktail and already hammered?”

With how she could barely keep her head from lolling to the side, that was clearly a yes. She giggled and hiccuped, her hat staying firmly on her head no matter her constant motions (although she’d lost that feather that was attached to it). She was also wrapping her fur scarf completely around herself until she was basically entangling herself.

Of course, Alastor was doing nothing to help, seemingly amused with her antics while he barely sipped at his glass of rye. In fact, he was taking such miniscule sips that Husk wondered if the guy was drinking even a thumbtack’s worth of it.

Husk felt like a babysitter when he stopped Niffty from falling off her seat, cradling her in one palm. “Boss, not that I don’t mind having a night out, but you’ve just been sitting there and saying nothing for the past hour.”

“Hm?” Alastor gave Husk a sideways glance. He had been focused on something Husk just wasn’t seeing apparently, and it had to be more than just the jazz performance that was up there. “Ha! You certainly like to question a good thing!”

Code for how he should keep his yap shut. Husk growled slightly, but he still had another cigar to take the edge off, one he got a chance to light it.

“Fine, fine. But you’re barely even paying attention to Niff here.”

Who was very much still leaning against his hand, now poking at his fingers with her own. “Hehe, I like it when they’re sharp.”

Husk was currently trying to find his lighter, his cigar held between his teeth, until a small spark of flame appeared right in front of his face. He was annoyed at himself for flinching, and seeing Alastor grinning at him while holding that flame in his palm didn’t exactly make him feel better.

That same fire lit up his cigar, and it was almost by reflex for Husk to take a drag before letting the smoke leave through the spaces of his gritted teeth.

Alastor continued to smile, and somehow, from this angle with the soft lighting of the lounge and the music playing in the background, it looked even sharper than before. “It’s sometimes good to be reminded of who you used to be.”

Husk ignored the heat felt underneath his fur, and leaned back enough to get more breathing space once again. “You still know how to give the worst compliments ever!”

“Ha! Even after a reward, you still manage to act like a grumpy kitty.”

Now Alastor was laughing and it was like whatever he had been focusing on, or was on the lookout for, had been completely forgotten. Too busy reveling in Husk’s moods, and seeing her boss laugh, Niffty joined him, her high-pitched tones meshing so well with Alastor’s soft tenor.

No matter what, Husk felt like the butt of a joke that Alastor had already been writing up weeks ago.

“Can you just lay off and do something about Niff here? Any more drinks and she’s gonna blackout.”

“Well, you’re a professional in that department so I’m sure she’ll have a lot to learn from you!” Alastor answered with another snicker, now letting a fingertip curl around the edge of Husk’s ear. Another flinch. Was it his imagination, or was Alastor moving closer to him on the seat?

“Listen, you bastard—”

“Role call!” Niffty shouted suddenly, her little drunken brain finally latching onto the nickname Husk had said a minute ago. She then scrambled up Husk’s arm and went to perch herself right on top of one of his wings, kicking her feet. “I need one of your feathers to replace the one in my hat!”

“At least let me finish my drink!” Husk was looking forlornly at his whiskey glass on the table, half-filled, ice cubes already melting fast. Fending the girl off was already taking his energy.

And all the while, Alastor was leaning his head on his hand, watching both of his minions struggle with each other, even as a few eyes turned to hear what the commotion was about. No surprise, for the Radio Demon loved entertainment in so many ways.

Except, he heard that tell-tale blip of static right next to him. Sharp and intriguing. It even cut through the live jazz, engulfing the sound until it was all Husk was hearing.

And when Husk turned, he saw Alastor looking towards the stage, his eyes a deep red, the shape of dials cranked all the way to the right. The static blipped again, filled with electricity.

Whatever he was seeing, Husk didn’t get a chance to really see for himself. He didn’t even get a chance to look at the stage, because, before he could even know what the fuck was happening, he soon found himself upended—and what that meant was that Alastor was standing up, and was holding Husk by the waist and carrying him over his shoulder.

Hefted up like some sack of grain, Husk was fidgeting, and his wings flapping in surprise. “What the—? Al, are you fucking drunk?! Let go!”

“No, I’m not, my good friend. But you certainly are!” With another quick snap, Husk’s forgotten whiskey glass was back in his hand. “Get a good nip of the dog for what we’ll be doing next!”

“Oo, me! Pick me up too!” Niffty was reaching up her arms towards Alastor, looking ready to grab at the hem of his suit if she didn’t get her way. She was standing up on the table to get more reach.

Alastor had no hesitation. He picked up Niffty by the scruff of her dress, her high heels clicking against each other as she wiggled her legs. It was almost a bit adorable were it not for the fact that she was actively salivating, her own spit getting onto that fur scarf of hers.

It was all in one motion, the way Alastor seemed to just step over most of the crowd that were in the lounge. It was helped by those shadow tendrils of his as they embedded themselves into the floors and walls, knocking aside a few customers’ drinks in his travel. Husk felt like he was being pulled along in a parachute, the wind hitting his face as they were propelled towards the stage and its line-up of wide-eyed, confused performers.

But, for all that was worth, they acted pretty quickly in getting away. Like those other demons, they knew when to leave once the Radio Demon was in sight.

Husk was not-so-gently dumped onto the stage, and it was only by his stupid feline body that he landed on his feet and managed to not spill his drink, which was still clutched in his claws. Alastor was, of course, much more courteous to Niffty, even as she got saliva all over his shoes. It was like a waterfall had originated in her maw, which only slowed down once she was plopped gently near the center of the stage.

“And to think, we almost missed our schedule!” Alastor whirled his cane as he stepped across the stage to a bunch of confused, half-drunk eyes. “But good ol’ Jimmy wouldn’t go over our act on purpose! Isn’t that right, Jimmy?”

He snapped his fingers once more, and a spotlight shone right over one particular demon in the crowd, who had been busy sidling up next to a pretty thing whose long blonde hair was trailing near the floor and her dress tighter than most corsets. Jimmy, in comparison, wasn’t much of a looker himself.

But Husk recognized him all the same. Another Overlord, but one of those small-time ones. Barely worth a dot on the map, and only owned a few territories, but it was probably this jazz lounge more or less, which definitely earned the guy some cash. Maybe even some souls while he was at it.

The demon, looking partly zombified as his form, was sweating bullets. “A-Alastor!? You, uh… when did you get here?”

But Alastor simply ignored him, back to whirling his cane as another spotlight hovered over him. “Now that everything’s back in order, we can show you folks a good show! Husker! Look alive!”

The saxophone that appeared in Husk’s arms was almost half-expected. He held it up with little issue in one hand, while he was still holding onto the whiskey glass in another. Immediately, he downed the whiskey in one gulp.

Niffty, meanwhile, was looking out over the crowd, her eye very wide and her pupil very dilated. She was no longer gushing out saliva, but she did seem to forget how to breathe. That didn’t stop Alastor from manifesting a little microphone stand for her, one suited for precisely her height, and of course in the popular style of the 30’s.

“After all the money and time I gave to dear old Jimmy to create this wonderful establishment, I thought it would be nice to celebrate it!” Alastor gave a final fingersnap to have a grand piano poof into existence, its ivory keys looking as bleached as the bones he’d pick clean. “Especially after all the loans and promises he made, and all the dealings made in secret, and all the little loopholes he believes himself to be so cunning and slick to not get caught in! It’s really been quite something, folks!”

Jimmy looked ready to disintegrate right there and then, because even he must have heard the soft drone of that radio static rise up in treble ever so slightly.

Trying to cut the Radio Demon out of extra deals, extra money, extra anything—well, Husk saw what happened to those who tried to do so with Alastor, and his boss rarely had mercy for Overlords.

None except for Husk, apparently.

Alastor still looked oddly happy as he sauntered on stage towards his piano. “But we can’t keep the audience waiting!” His cane whisked away into the air, and as he sat down, his fingers were already tapping away at the piano keys. The notes were clear and crisp, and his foot moved against the foot pedals with knowing practice. “Time for our big number!”

There was magic in Alastor’s music, Husk had to guess. It was the only reason why he was lifting up the saxophone and actually thought about going along to melody. And Niffty, just by the sharp sounds of those piano keys, had blinked and was back to grinning again. Bolstered by Alastor’s presence, or maybe forgetting there were a bunch of people, had already picked up on what her boss wanted.

Niffty held the mic to her grinning mouth, took a deep breath—and bellowed out her verse.

“HEY BIG SPENDER!”

Husk nearly did a spit take on his own damn spit valve, but held it together to pull off a song that was not at all what Niffty was singing, not that Alastor gave a thought to it.

This was a revenge outing, and Alastor liked such outings to be messy.

Luckily, Husk was too damn drunk to care. And being drunk didn’t dampen his saxophone playing in the slightest.

“Good looking! So refined!” The spotlight wavered on good ol’ Jimmy, all as big sweat patches appeared in his suit, and half of his face was literally falling off to the floor in gross decay. “Say wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on in my mind?!”

“No,” Jimmy said immediately in a small voice.

Alastor played the piano louder and Husk was already playing catch-up to his frenetic pace. But Husk was in his element; dressed in his old suit, buzzed up by whiskey and the cigar smoke that was still settling on his tongue. Hell, he’d play a few more encores after this if that’s what Alastor wanted.

“Let me get right to the point!” Niffty emphasized her song with a flash of one of her needles, stabbing it towards the audience. A few in the front row had already scattered—and maybe Jimmy would have as well, but a suspicious gathering of shadows had rooted him to his seat, making sure he couldn’t move an inch.

“I don’t pop my cork for every bad boy I see… But I could.” Niffty giggled into the mic, looking ready to snap it to pieces with a wicked bite. She still flourished that needle with dangerous energy.

Jimmy was struggling against his binds, shaking as the singing Niffty seemed to move a bit closer—except she was still on stage, and it was Jimmy who was moving closer, aided by those tendrils that acted as his own personal, nightmarish chauffeur. He floated in the air, held up by those shadows like it was nothing.

“Alastor, I’ll pay you, alright?!” Jimmy was squealing desperately. “Just don’t let this bitch get near me.”

“Tsk, now that isn’t how you speak to a lady. What would your wife think?” Alastor’s voice was crackling, the corruption in it devolving with the static while his piano playing stayed fresh.

“I can show you a good time!” Niffty was now leaning towards Jimmy, holding up her mic as she acted as if it was a serenade. But her unhinged smile and widening eye betrayed every chaotic thought in her head. “Let me show you a good time, bad boy!!”

And if the jazz lounge emptied faster by the second, Niffty certainly didn’t mind, and Husk found himself not caring either. As long as he doesn’t mess up the few drinks left. He should have felt more pissed off that this was not the relaxing outing Alastor had originally promised, but again, there was something in Alastor’s playing, despite Niffty screaming out lyrics that he was sure his boss had never heard before.

Again, there was a magic to Alastor that he still had trouble wrapping his head around, but was drawn to each and every time.

“Hey big spendeeerrr!!” Niffty lambasted the verse so hard that the mic was looping in feedback. Jimmy was clearly suffering, being the closest to rambunctious Niffty. “Hey big spendeerrr!!” She jumped onto one of those shadows, brandishing her needle like it was a weapon—and it absolutely was for her. “Spend a little time with me!”

“No, go away!” There was a change of pitch in Jimmy’s tone, a soft glow from where his eyes should have been, but were instead only sockets. “You crazy fucking bitch!”

The piano notes were then suddenly slammed with a harsh, discordant noise. Alastor placed both hands down, standing up as he slowly turned his neck with a harsh crack. The smile on his face had stretched from ear to ear.

Just like that, Jimmy’s own little power display withered instantly.

“After such a reception to our performance, I insist you come onto my radio show!” Alastor said, elongating, fangs widening, and eyes shining with more red than should be possible. “No exceptions!”

Now, if there was a mess afterwards, the jazz lounge and all its pricey accessories smashed to bits, and Niffty laughing along with Alastor as Jimmy screamed, Husk didn’t notice.

The song he was playing was just too good to stop.

#hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #niffty #radiohusk #radio trio #radiotrioweek #radiotrioweek2024 #fanfiction #my fics

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