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duhnova · 7 months

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Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book.

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees.

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told.

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult.

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature.

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.”

“You a dancer?”

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.”

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly.

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.”

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger.

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you.

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you.

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top.

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin.

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?”

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little.

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction.

“Cheol!”

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man.

“Hiya boss… Look.”

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu.

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly.

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country.

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine.

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks.

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold.

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was.

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair.

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.”

“Sunday?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.”

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes.

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly.

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again.

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly.

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?”

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning.

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt.

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.”

“Has he heard of Abba?”

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light.

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe.

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true.

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again.

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower.

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic.

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer.

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from.

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down.

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner.

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club.

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously.

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.”

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it.

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth.

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light.

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass.

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office.

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies.

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.”

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out.

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box.

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register.

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered.

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into.

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist.

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.”

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in.

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing.

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out.

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together.

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering.

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully.

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.”

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies.

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter.

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting.

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.”

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back.

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips.

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.”

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.”

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely.

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.”

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly.

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound.

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again.

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat.

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard.

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly.

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting.

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice.

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet.

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself.

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot.

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car.

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing.

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top.

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed.

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster.

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with.

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown.

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was.

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag.

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow.

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.”

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today.

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male.

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true.

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels.

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.”

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section.

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?”

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?”

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section.

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.”

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.”

“You speak really well.”

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out.

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club.

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own.

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!”

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road.

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club.

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in.

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe.

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you.

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk.

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.”

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning.

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street.

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more.

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone.

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders.

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock.

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels.

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you.

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you.

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille.

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk.

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little.

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest.

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.”

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get.

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees.

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him.

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble.

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly.

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement.

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body.

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining.

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly.

“Am I a god now baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes.

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips.

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first.

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies.

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on.

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing.

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you.

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it.

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.”

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you.

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been.

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him.

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out.

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on.

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip.

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side.

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body.

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk.

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge.

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him.

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again.

“Still think I belong on Vogue?” You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you.

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title.

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs.

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side.

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully.

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you.

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs.

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently.

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself.

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding.

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties.

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down.

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you.

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer.

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it.

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells.

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics.

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs.

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight.

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks.

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol.

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip.

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice.

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

#svthub #svthub.collab #scoups #seungcheol #seugncheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seunghceol imagine #seventeen imagine #scoups fluff #scoups smut #scoups angst #scoups imagine

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yourlocaltreesimp · 2 months

Text

Valentine’s Specials: Time

Welcome to the first and maybe (possibly) only volume of Everyone gets an Episode in which, everyone gets an episode. First on the list is Time. This will include extra characters!

۵♡۵

Time

Valentine’s spent in or out on the town?

Honestly, I see it going either way for him. As much as I could see him enjoying making a small feast worthy of the palace and basking in your presence, I can also see him enjoying getting dressed up and going out for a nice dinner. All in all, he’d probably find a balance between the two. Doing something out on the town with you and enjoying a nice, quiet evening to yourselves and resting his ancient joints. Or spending the day together and having a formal dinner out and one of the nicer restaurants Castle town can offer.

This man is getting you flowers. Fight me.

Would, along with said flowers, give you a myriad of tiny other gifts. Sweets scattered about the house with little notes taped to the back, all the nick nacks you’d been admiring in the market— anything he could find that you’d enjoy.

Can and will do more than you on Valentine’s. Try as you might to stage him up, his fighting spirit and utter stubbornness has not left him in his age.

۵♡۵

After spending the day shopping in Castle town, you were content to relax in your quiet ranch home for the rest of the evening. Between the rambunctiousness that came with such a holiday and people’s genuine disconcern for litterally everyone else around them, you were socially burned out for the day. Wrapped up in the thickest blanket you could find, it occurred to you rather suddenly how quiet the house was. Too quiet. Responsible as the intimidating Hero of Time could be, He was much like a toddler in ways of causing chaos. You’d left him unattended for too long and an off putting silence drafted throughout the home. It would’ve been rather comforting had it been any other day— Hell, you’d have gone back to sleep if it were. But unfortunately life could not be so simple. You were honoured that you could have such a husband that saw Valentine’s as a challenge to show his love for you. But if there was anything you knew of your Link, it was that he didn’t know when to draw the line. Pushing himself to injury for the sake of honour or spending an utter exorbitant amount of money within gifts to express his love. You were flattered, truly, but sceptical.

You found him in the kitchen, eye glazed over as he hurried from pots to oven to plates to- He was so absorbed in his task that he hadn’t even noticed you until you offered to help in which he stopped midpace and stared at you, wide eyed.

“No, you may not help”

“Wh- But-“

“No. Sit down”

“But I don’t-“ Two strand arms scooped you off the floor and set you down at the dining table that looked into the kitchen.

“What would you like to drink, my love?” He grabbed two of the nice glasses from the cupboard and you couldn’t find it in yourself to suppress your smile.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu time #lu timexreader #fir’s library #everyone gets an episode

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azureseacloud · 6 months

Text

Stage Lights

Ghost (band) ficlet

Part 3

Pairing: Swiss × reader

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1,110

Another part in this one!! This part mainly stars Dew being typical Dew :)

I’ve figured out the rest of the plot, so I can tell you that there will be two more parts, possibly three!

As always, please feel free to message me with any requests :)

You sat alone in a corner of the hotel room, absentmindedly strumming your guitar. You were deep in thought, your mind constantly circling back to last night and what had happened with Swiss.

The fucking asshole.

He’d been nothing but a pain the entire trip to the hotel, constantly teasing and making subtle side remarks until your face was burning. Even with the mask covering, Swiss knew the reaction he was getting from you, and you absolutely hated it. Some of the others had joined in too, though Rain had stayed out of it, the water ghoul shooting you sympathetic looks.

It had been so hard to control yourself. To laugh along instead of beating the Multi ghoul up like you so badly wanted to. But Papa had been there, and you knew how he felt about his ghouls getting violent.

You’d escaped into your hotel room as soon as you could, taking solace in your guitar to calm down. You’d finally been able to remove your mask, since Swiss wasn’t around to see his work. The mark was properly bruised now, and it was a dark blue and purple. Bitch.

You didn’t bother looking up as the door opened, a low whistle sounding.

“Nice bite mark,” Dewdrop teased in a way of greeting as he walked into the room. “Swiss really did a number on you, huh?”

You threw the pick at him, smirking as it bounced off his goggles. He flipped you off.

You’d been paired up together for the night, a regular system to save money rather than everyone having their own rooms. This was better for you anyway—ghouls were pack creatures and staying in a foreign place alone was highly unpleasant, to say the least. You’d all ended up sharing rooms anyway, which was how the buddy system was created.

Dewdrop was good company most of the time, although he had moments where he could be a real ass. That night Swiss pissed him off—you’d spent the entire night trying to stop him from breaking things around the room. You’d been successful—well, mostly. That vase didn’t count.

Dewdrop looked down at where you were sitting in the corner of the room, resting his hands on his hips.

“He really got under your skin. Haven’t seen you this pissed since Phantom broke the strings on your favourite guitar.”

You sighed, frustratedly thumbing the strings. “Is it that obvious?”

Dew gave you a look that said it was very much that obvious. You groaned, burying your head in your hands. So much for not letting anyone notice.

“So, how are you planning on getting him back?” Dew knew you too well, knew that you needed to get Swiss back. You looked up to see him sit down beside you, peeling off his own helmet and mask.

“I don’t know. Swiss isn’t easy to fluster, he’ll just turn anything I do back around on me” You sighed, frustrated. “Any suggestions?”

Dewdrop tilted his head, considering.

“I would suggest choking or biting him back but I think he’d enjoy that too much.” You glared at the fire ghoul.

“Yeah that’s not going to happen.”

Dew shrugged. “If you want to really piss him off, I could help you.” The offer sounded normal enough but there was a suggestive tone to his voice that told you otherwise.

You gave him a look, not thinking he was actually suggesting what you thought he was. His stare didn’t waver.

“You can’t be serious.” Dew shrugged in response. “I don’t think Swiss is the type to get jealous, Dew.”

“I think you’d be surprised how jealous he can get when it comes to you.” You froze, tearing your gaze back off the guitar in your hands to look at Dewdrop.

What the fuck did that mean? He didn’t…

Dew snorted, looking up and rolling his eyes. “Fucking hell, you mean you don’t know? You haven’t realised how desperately Swiss wants you?”

You laughed, seeing what he was trying to do, and because you were definitely not going to consider what Dew had just implied. That was ridiculous. There was no way that Swiss—absolutely not.

“Funny joke, Dew, you almost had me there.”

The fire ghoul shot you a bewildered look. “I wasn’t kidding. He’s obsessed with you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, running a finger across the strings.

“Dew, he’s obsessed with pissing me off, same as you. He wants the crowd’s attention, and since we get the most of it he tries to steal that,” you explained. It was obvious that Swiss liked being the centre of attention, and that was why he annoyed the two of you especially. Nothing more.

Dewdrop snorted. “You are so oblivious it’s painful.”

You flipped him off, rolling your eyes. “And you’re just trying to make a whole deal out of something that isn’t even there.”

“Oh, like your own feelings for him? I’ve bitten you before, sweetheart, and you never reacted that way.” You turned a glare to the fire ghoul as he leant back against the wall, a wry smile on his face.

“I. Don’t. Like. Swiss.” You hissed, feeling your temper rise again at the accusation that Dew had completely nailed. Fuck. “He is an attention-seeking asshole who seems to think it’s his job to fuck me over.”

Dew raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure he thinks about that often. Fucking you over, that is.”

Without thinking, you growled, lunging for the ghoul. He rolled to the side, dodging you as he sprung to his feet, fangs bared and the excitement at a fight evident in his orange eyes.

“Fuck off Dewdrop.”

You grabbed your guitar, moving to return it to its case in the other room, fighting the urge to get violent. Maybe a good fight was all you needed—but not here. Papa would be disappointed, you told yourself, trying to calm down. Dewdrop followed, leaning against the doorway as you clipped the case closed.

“I thought you wanted my help.” You huffed at that. “I was serious about helping you. I still need to get the fucker back for the show last week.”

You stood back up, narrowing your eyes at Dewdrop. You wanted to tell him to fuck off—but if it did work, well you really really needed to get Swiss back. Yet you had no better idea that Swiss couldn’t use against you. And if Dewdrop was right…

“Fine,” you answered, your will to piss off Swiss winning. “But if this doesn’t work I swear to fucking Satanas—“

“It will work,” Dew replied assuredly, his smile growing devious. “I know it will.”

#ghost band #swiss ghoul #nameless ghouls #swiss ghost #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls x reader #the band ghost #dewdrop ghost

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myreitha · 7 months

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Costume time!

Okay, you know what, I want to share this process and I've chosen y'all to suffer with me.

SO! A friend of mine doesn't have a spooky show to produce this year, and so is putting all his energy into a cool-ass halloween event (Fancy paper invites, puzzles to solve, challenges, games, seances, etc). The whole thing is themed around this fake secret society that we're all now part of, and the dress cose and we're being encouraged to come up with cool fancy clothes/outfits to match the theme to come in. Best description I can come up with for this theme is "Fancy witchy-vampire" (Like, think VtM, but witchier). THAT SAID. I'm still out of a job, so, I've got to be strategic. AND I've got the itch to make things. Even better. (More past the cut!)

I don't have photos for a lot of these earlier decisions and stages, sorry. BUT I go through my closet and costume tubs (the for-fun-or-cosplay costumes as well as the circus/performing ones) and have a nice closet-runway to figure out what I'm starting with and settle on this one burgundy satin wrap top with big-ass sleeves that I love. . .that unfortunately doesn't go with much that I have in my wardrobe that vibes with the theme. (There's like. . .one or two things it works with, but I want to be FANCIER). So I sketch around and come up with an idea based around this shirt (and a statement necklace collar I have that was some of the best $5 I've ever spent)

I have this old dress I'd bought at a flea market years ago and had altered to be an overskirt for a hoop skirt, and then it's been worn as a bustle with the bodice tucked away more times than it's felt hoops. It's a similar color as the top, so I figured I'd finally take the bodice off it, pull it in to be something I could walk in that wouldn't trail on teh ground, and I could set it under a corset in the center. Bing-bang-boom! Genius!

No. The skirt and the shirt were similar-but-different enough colors and textures that they clashed. Damnit. Well, I can ditch the skirt and figure out the rest! Some skinny moto pants. A decorative corset - I could embroider a corset (Myr no), or, ooh, use gold appliques (Okay, more realistic, proceed).

Next step was to mock things up as I'm trying to find what I want without purchasing a bunch of shit, which got me to this:

Okay okay okay. Cool, I've got a direction (that's not the shirt, but it's the closest I coudl find online to use, so I used it). Now for the endless internet and thrift store (No fingers, not thirst store, dear god) and internet thrift store searching to find me some cool-ass pants and a corset and some shoes that'll work with this. You'll notice, though that my statement necklace has been swapped out for cool-strappy-thing. Because statement necklace-collar is geometric and GOOD LUCK finding geometric applique. Harder than I expected. Took me a couple months to find things that weren't lots of money that I could afford. BUT I EVENTUALLY DID IT. This included buying multiple corsets with the intention of returning things. Benefits of modern shopping. The happy "lets try everything on" day was this weekend!

SO FAR SO GOOD. Took a poll from friends and the short corset is the winner. It's definitely the best constructed of the three, though the pants aren't QUITE high enough waist to be able to wear under it without some adjustments. But it'll do. The shoes turned out to be dark brown instead of black, so I need to see about making them black (and fixing them so the tongue doesn't decide to go deep diving towards my toes.) Other things to do: bring in the wrists of those sleeves some, they're a bit too big (Here they're clipped with bobby pins), decorate the corset, maybe add some gold detailing onto the pants? They've got that gold ridging along the thighs that you find on moto-pants, but that's absolutely invisible most of the time, so I think if I just brush some gold paint along the tops of those ridges, it'll make them pop in a good way. You'll note that none of these photos have the strappy-thingy, and instead we're back to the statement necklace-collar. Turns out the differece between the image I found on the internet and teh shirt I own is enough that you BARELY SEE the strappy. Also, I decided that instead of using applique, I'd buy some gold paint, make a design that'd work, and paint it on the corset. Only time will reveal whether this was a good or a bad idea.

Other thing this showed me is that this doesn't feel FANCY enough. So I'm coming back to that half-skirt idea. This time, though I'm thinking about something sheer - either a burgundy to match the top, or a black with gold accents (OR A FULL DESIGN?!?!?!).

Last night I got flat photos of the corset for figuring out the design, since the shape I was working with in my sketches doesn't match the chosen corset shape. Pls to enjoy some of the designs I was playing with:

Proooooobably going to see about adjusting the eye design. I think it fits the theme best.

Last night I started on the alternations by taking in the waist of the pants. Please have this photo that happened 30 seconds before my thread was attacked.

#Project #costume #sewing #Join me on this journey as I make it up as I go

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akutasoda · 1 month

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Can I request chrollo x fem reader where like chrollo and the troupe go to a club to celebrate a successful heist and readers like one of the main girls dancing and then after her performance she gets called up by this guy who’s obviously a creep. Kinda like the Copacabana if you’ve ever listened to that song and then chrollo helps the distressed girl by personally threatening the creepy man

to protect a performer

synopsis - chrollo see's a creep harrasing one of the performers

includes - chrollo

warnings - fem!reader, reader is a showgirl, creepy guy, slight injury, fluff, staring???, harrasment?, wc - 1.5k

if the phantom troupe were known for one thing it would be their heists. they were always successful mainly because they were more than happy to reaort to any means to pull them off, they were criminals after all. this success and confidence always only served to push chrollo to perform more and more daring heists - each payed off and it became a cycle, he would always have a growing confidence in his strategies.

recently he had planned out one of his most complex and risky heists yet. he had no hesitation in any point of it by the time he finally presented it to the rest of the troupe and they all were happy to go along with their leaders plan. to nobody's surprise, the plan went off without a hitch. sometimes it seemed like chrollo could plan for everything as every point in his strategy happened in perfect succession whichh lead to another perfect heist.

chrollo cared deeply for each and every troupe member and understood that keeping them happy would make him happy. since it was quite possibly their most daring heist yet, chrollo wanted to show some form of appreciation for the capabilities his group possessed. he eventually settled on taking them to quite a high profile club - it was a risk in itself as someone may recognise them but he had the confidence to know that they wouldn't be caught and so he went with the idea. mainly as he came to learn that quite a popular group of showgirls would be performing at the same time and so he doubted most of the attention would be on them.

it was meant to be a celebration and so chrollo didn't mind that he would be spending quite the costly amount, their recent heist more than made up for it. it would seem that because of the group performing at the club the same night, prices for anything at the club were much higher than usual - it was obvious it was the club's way of profiting more and more from others.

chrollo himself wasn't exactly the most outgoing or 'club' type. he spent most of the time sat inside the booth he booked for the group as he watched the others. the booth was lined with rather nice leather which surrounded a rather extravagant table and it had a perfect view of the stage. the club's atmosphere was practically buzzing up until the point the curtains on the stage lifted and most changed to cheer an applaud the group of girls on stage.

you and a couple of friends and their friends had once made the decision to form a group. you all had a similar interest in dancing and such, so you all were rather ecstatic when your group would be allowed to perform on stages in clubs and a few small theatres. each and every one of you shared the same passion which made it very easy to perfectly come up with routines and get enough practice in and it all seemed to pay off when bigger clubs and theatres started approaching you instead.

this by far would be your groups biggest performance yet. the other smaller performances obviously gained enough traction and popularity to become appealing to other places that would now happily pay your group good money to perform. the group's performances also started gaining popularity in general, with more and more people learning about the group which lead to a quick growth in following.

to say each of you was nervous would be an understatement. you all had been informed of the amount of people in the club at the time and it was by far the biggest crowd. your group spent hours toiling over outfits, practice and more practice but standing behind the curtain right before it was due to raise made all those hours seem pointless. but you'd be dammned if your nerves got you to ruined this grand opportunity for all of you.

chrollo didn't really care all that much for performances, he didn't really care that there would be a performance the night his group visited if anything he wondered if any of his members enjoyed such performances. he didn't expect to be so mesmerized. from the moment the group starrted performing his eyes drifted up from his drink to you, one of the girl's at the front leading.

he had never seen someone move with so much energy and passion yet seeming so weirdly elegant. he didn't want to seem like a creep but he just couldn't help but stare as you performed - while he could agree that your entire group was incredibly talented but you really couldn't help but unknowingly mesmerize him. he was one of first to applaud when you finished.

the group soon left to go off stage and since the club was still technically paying your group to stay longer as you're performance finished slightly early, you and the rest of the girls decided to spend the time in the club. right as you walked out back into the club you immediately heard someone whistle you over, you looked over to confirm the man was asking for you and you hesitantly went over. you didn't like the sense of dread that encompassed you aa ypu walked over but didn't want to be rude as maybe he just had a question.

chrollo watched as you hesitantly walked you're way over to the man, he could immediately tell two things - one, the guy was obviously a bit of a creep and two, you were trying to be polite. he was just out of earshot of the conversation but he could clearly tell the man was an absolute creep. the man who you tried convincing yourself was just wanting to ask a question, turned out to be a creep but now you didn't see a way out of your situation and deeply regretted not listening to your gut.

you're eyes frantically darted across the club hoping to catch someone's eye, somebody that could help you. chrollo caught your eye as he noticed how shaky you were getting and once you realised he was looking you tired to subtly hint that you needed help. but because you weren't looking at the man, he was starting to get annoyed and you didn't see him reaching out to grab you.

you blinked once and before you knew it the man you caught eyes with was now stood right beside you. when you turned back to the man you noticed that the man you caught eyes with was now holding the creep's hand that tried gravbing you in a clearly bruising grip. you knew this shouldn't be the time to be taking in the appearance of your saviour but you couldn't help but stare at some lf his odder features, such as the bright red mark on his head.

you practically gasped as you heard a sickening crack that caused the creep to cry out and catch the attention of some near by customers. you couldn't hear what the raven haired man said to the creep but you watched as he leaned forward and whispered something to the man that made his face drop. chrollo soon released the man who immediately grabbed his stuff, cradled his wrist and rushed to leave as fast as he possibly could.

what probably disturbed you the most was the fact that your helper looked absolutely calm as anything. you nervously coughed out a thank you as you were slightly shaken but luckily he seemed to fully grasp the gratitude you wanted to show. it wasn't long before a few of your group members rushed over to your side as they explained how they were so distracted and you told them it was fine because he helped you.

chrollo returned to his booth and your friends whisked you away backstage to calm down. you would later make a quick stop at chrollo's booth before you left to properly thank him. a few members that were sat there looked awkwardly away as they didn't quite know what to do but chrollo didn't mind and stood up and offered to walk you back to your friends who were only waiting outside. on the very short walk you insisted he didn't have to make such a meaningless journey but he assured you that he only wanted to make sure you stayed safe.

you also managed to pry his name out of him on the walk, telling him you would like to know the name of the man who helped you and in turn you told him yours. you parted ways with a bright smile to the man you now knew as chrollo before running to your friends. the day after, you would come to hear of a missing person that was last seen sprinting out of the club around the same time that creep did but you brushed it off as coincidence. the phantom troupe would also come to learn that chrollo liked taking them out to club's and theatre's no matter how high profile, and for some reason they always coincided with your group's performances to which chrollo would talk to you afterward.

#x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter chrollo #hxh chrollo #chrollo x reader

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zilabee · 1 year

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Jann Haworth was the artist who made the Sgt Pepper cover.

She will always happily say that it was 50/50 between her and her husband at the time, Peter Blake, but imo her name should go first in that collaboration. And instead she is so often not mentioned.

This is not one of those things where it was his work and she just helped a little. It was a joint project. Some people's account of it says that Robert Fraser originally brought the project to both of them from the very start. She was a known and brilliant artist who knew Robert well, and had already exhibited at his gallery, so it seems likely to me. But even if it was originally brought to Peter Blake, she was certainly involved from the design stages, right through to completion.

She freely gives Peter credit for the idea of it, the idea of the crowd of heroes behind the beatles, but she suggested they do it in her style not his - ie as standing silhouettes, rather than paper collage - which meant she had the experience and the skills to actually create the thing. She came up with the floral arrangements so it wouldn't be ruined with graphics. She did the majority of the work.

She's super well adjusted about the whole thing, she tends to set people right about it when they claim she's copying his work, rather than continuing her own in her more recent pieces. You can read interviews with her here, here, or here.

One of my litmus tests for beatles books is whether they mention her at all. They don't mostly, because they'd rather die than actually question anything. But if you think it wasn't known until more recently then know that George Martin in 'Summer of Love' in 1995 credits her fully as a co-creator. It was never a secret.

"Along with the Pepper tableaux cloth figures, Jann Haworth came up with a number of other original ideas for the venture. [...] She said that it would be very nice not to have real lettering on the Sgt Pepper cover but to do something like that kind of civic flower-bed lettering. [...] Jann spent a long time building a background, a scene against which the Beatles would be photographed, hanging the first row of photos on the studio wall, then fixing the other blow-ups on poles and spacing them in tiers at intervals of a foot or so, to give the picture the illusion of depth. Haworth also did all the hand tinting of the original black and white photographs." Summer of Love, George Martin

(Most of the sites where I found pictures of the Sgt Pepper making, DO NOT NAME HER at all, much less credit her in photos, but here she is, creating the album cover with her bare hands, while Peter Blake stands around.)

I know none of this is probably news to anyone much around here. I just needed to rant about it, having seen this quote from peter blake. It's just hilarious to me that he's complaining about the lack of money, after he's benefited from all the fame and credit for it over the years, and meanwhile she's left out of the story entirely... it's just so incredibly male of him. Any time he doesn't immediately set his interviewer straight about how that album cover was made is a disgrace. (Also his whining that he's only remembered for Sgt Pepper is a lot like when John would whine that people played Yesterday to him... if you're going to try and take ALL the credit for something, you can't complain when people tell you their favourite bit was the bit your partner was responsible for.)

#jann haworth #peter blake #sgt pepper #robert fraser #the beatles #george martin

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nights-at-crystarium · 1 year

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Fragments - episodes 15-18 author notes

Shall we sit back and go over the recent episodes together? C:

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.

Any theme song enjoyers? I associate this song with this moment, and generally with Exarch’s longing and excitement that can’t be shown. “And in my usual voice, I say, there you are”.

Go away grandpa, you crashed an otherwise perfect party :’>

Had this followed the msq more closely, i.e. had Feo Ul not been the first to find Vivi, or had it happened in an environment more familiar to him, he might've asked Exarch if he's shy, or just ugly. Kinda like if you’re a bully in your school, you might still wanna keep a low profile in a new school.

Vivi treads lightly in a new world, at least tries to. He doesn't yet know how thick or thin is the ice under his feet.

Exarch doesn’t know about the tree since he was busy waiting for Vivi in the Ocular, having just finished the summoning spell, tense and giddy, hood up and all. Minutes passed, nothing happened, then Exarch started getting antsy and finally turned on his tv to find Vivi in Lakeland.

“Hey it could’ve been your spine” I hope is clear: as in Vivi could’ve landed on Lyna instead of the aforementioned tree, not a threat to snap her spine in a fight. He knows better than taunting random people.. Moreover, people stronger than him x’D

Artist achievement unlocked: managed to make a hooded person look expressive. IN THE BACK VIEW.

SPROUT?!

He’s more cute than he deserves to be here and you’ll perceive him.

Being at the end of the episode, “we’re friends, yes” is the first and only line almost nonchalantly tossed to Vivi! Exarch wanted to buy time and observe him, how he’s changed, how’s best to approach him now.

..And Vivi needs rest and new clothes, he spent AN ENTIRE DAY in one outfit. We've seen him around several people so far, and, while he's always genuine, he's the most himself with Exarch, even at this early stage.

But yeah, he’s jaded, regrets many choices in his life and wants his money back.

Vivi's tailored for this ship. Before I even knew that I wanted to write a comic of this size, I asked myself, what condition does he need to be in at the beginning of ShB for the chemistry to happen? The answer was, well, "terrible". I’ve got the juicy deets, but you’d have to be patient and keep an eye out for more flashbacks sprinkled in throughout the story.

What matters now is that, finally, both of them are sufficiently tired to start noticing something else than gremlins in each other.

Have fun living with the knowledge that there’s no face where it’s supposed to be :>

Exarch has a way with the fae: don't flinch, offer them something nice. He offers rest to Vivi without hesitation, as soon as he sees his emotionally battered state. And, oh, he’s still an archer, landing that perfect shot first try. This here is a genuine spark of interest, surprise and gratitude in Vivi’s eyes.

I went balls deep with the visual subtext here. Despite being shown up close, Vivi’s broody face takes on a secondary role as his mind literally closes in on Exarch in that moment, on the mystery man that’s suddenly so unlike the rest. Even if he’s yet another quest-giver, even if shit’s on fire, he allows Vivi to go? Rest? Have some time for himself???? Exarch is, or is about to become, his only light in the darkness :3c

Exarch’s stiff posture is also intended here. He must’ve rehearsed this scene sooooooooo many times, he was prepared for hostility, interrogation, tantrums, but this Warrior’s indifferent and just wants to leave?

Magical boy de-transformation! Headcanon time, two of them even.

Firstly, the Tower can register living presence in its vicinity, a passive ability which Exarch can casually tap into. Being aware of an entire city’s population is, mildly put, overwhelming, thus he’s learned to shrink the “radar” area down to his Ocular, or wherever he’s at the moment and whenever he actually needs it. He feels that Vivi’s indeed left, therefore he can safely remove the hood.

Secondly, the hood shadow’s magicked. The panel above demonstrates how it’d look naturally, if it were a normal shadow. But he casts a pitch black glamour that also extends to his hair.

Just a cool crystal flare that I feel like showing off :>

None of you would believe me now if I said this isn't a horny scene? Although this looks lewd, for someone who’d spent a century clinging to memories and tales the lingering scent is just another confirmation that all of this's real. He can't even touch the WoL (or so he thinks), the scent could be the most he ever gets. Bearing in mind the stress of the day, I genuinely don’t think that he’s in the mood here. But no worries, he’ll get plenty of horny opportunities later on :>

The subtle characterization in the way he opens a door to a supposedly empty, still unknown room.

An unironically normal reaction to the Light, and shadowbringing \o/

This. This goes into my personal collection of the best vivifaces I’ve drawn.

He’s quick to react to a threat (?) popping out of nowhere in a supposedly safe room.

GOMU GOMU NOOOOOOO-

I know the arm’s too long, but I like to incorporate some animation princliples :>

The Champion of Eorzea uses a stick to cure a 100 years old depression, ca. 2023, colorized.

Vivi didn't mean to pierce him, actually. While the space's more than enough for living, it's still cramped for fighting as a dragoon, and he simply misjudged the distance while spinning around and lunging at the source of that eerie voice. There’s also an ooc explanation: I couldn’t quite align all of this in one frame, and thought hey, Ardbert’s a ghost, it’s okay to pierce him!

Both are quick to handwave the fact, and let’s be honest, self-defense of that sort must be a mundane thing for a WoL.There’s more important stuff to discuss. Both are desperate to vent to someone they could trust. They may disagree on things, but generally they vibe pretty well with Ardbert.

A lil shoutout to @agent-jaselin for commenting this under the respective episode. I almost forgot to point it out while making this post. Vivi tries to see if he can relate to another WoL, if his struggles are valid, or if he’s overreacting to a typical hero life. Ardbert had a whole friend group adventuring alongside him, the Scions don’t measure up unfortunately, on top of that Vivi (emotionally) stays the fuck away from anyone post-ARR for their own protection (and his own if he ends up losing someone else), so it’s not quite the same experience for him.

One of the few redeeming qualities: Vivi keeps his word. This's gonna be relevant in like 2025 :'>

He baby, THAT’S his problem.

From pointing his spear at him to comfortably undressing and falling asleep in his vicinity. Ardbert's possibly the first man to be asked to stay and not get laid by Vivi :’>

While the Crystarium and its people seem nice, it’s still Vivi’s first day (one loooooong day since the beginning of chapter 2) in a brand new world, and Ardbert’s the only somewhat familiar person here. A ghost? Even better. The supernatural’s easier to deal with and is less likely to backstab you.

The sweet-voiced hooded guy says that it’s okay, that he’s safe here.... Yeah that on itself is a flag for our mr doubter. He’s grown reasonably paranoid since ARR, (almost) everything he does has a nice cynical-flavored logic to it.

While this’s a wolgraha comic, it’d be bland without support characters. Ardbert doesn’t play a massive role in this particular story, still you’ll keep seeing him here and there.

The next several episodes focus on the main two and Feo Ul, they’ll claw their way in even if they were left out x’D

#shb spoilers #ffxiv #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk #vivien rell #crystal exarch #g'raha tia #feo ul #lyna #ardbert #wol x g'raha tia #wolgraha #own: next lvl #ardbert hylfyst

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reasonsmandy · 1 year

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You're the most beautiful flower

Daisy Jones x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — i really liked the prompt list for requests so maybe something angsty with 8 and 31?

✧.* summary — You never had a passion for working at bar you worked, but when you met Daisy Jones, she made all your shifts worthwhile.

✧.* warnings — Mention of anxiety and trauma.

✧.* word count — 2.6k

✧.* 🎙️ — Daisy's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — my first time writing for Daisy and I just fell in love... Hope you enjoy it 🫶🏾

Your job wasn't the most pleasant, and honestly you were there just to save enough money to continue following your plans in the city of LA. Dealing with drunks late into the night wasn't easy, but you had to keep up so that's where you spent most of your nights.

The bar was dimly lit, with a distinct smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. You could hear the sound of glasses clinking and the faint hum of the jukebox in the background, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter or shouting. You had been working the late shift for hours, and your feet were sore from standing on them all night. You leaned on one hand on the counter, blinking for a long time, trying your best to keep yourself awake. Most of your colleagues had already left and finished their work, now you were waiting alone for some living soul to show up.

The bell above the bar door makes you wake up from your nap, a woman with red hair enters the place, capturing your attention. You had never seen such a beautiful woman, she smiles when she notices you at the counter and you smile back at her. She approaches you without taking that smile off her face, when she gets closer you can see those green eyes better and when you receive that deep look on you, butterflies in your stomach grow.

"Hey there," she says, her voice low and husky. "Mind if I sit here for a bit?"

You shake your head, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness. This woman was different from anyone you had ever met before, and you couldn't help but be drawn to her.

She leans against the counter and pulls a cigarette pack out of her pocket, offering it to you. "Want one?"

You hesitate for a moment, then shake your head again. "Can't do that working."

She shrugs and brings one of the cigarettes to her mouth, lighting it. "Fair enough. I'm Daisy, by the way. Nice to meet you."

"Y/N" you say, your heart beating a little faster as you take in her striking features. You couldn't help but feel a little starstruck - this woman seemed like she was from another world.

…

There were a few hours left for you to open, so you needed to organize the bar so that it was perfect until that moment. The place was illuminated by the rays of sunlight that remained in the sky, these rays directly illuminated the stage where Daisy was lying with her notebook, the sunlight made her look more beautiful, and you didn't even know that was possible.

Daisy felt that she needed to impress Teddy Price anyway, she spent days and nights writing several different lyrics but nothing ever pleased her. Again she crumples up another sheet of paper, frustrated she throws it on the floor huffing, making you laugh.

"You find it funny, uh?" Daisy rolls her eyes with a smile on her face. "It's frustrating, Y/N I can't write anything decent!"

"I'm sure you're overreacting, your lyrics are great." You approach her, taking a seat next to her.

Daisy follows you with her eyes, lying in your lap when you sit down, still looking upset about her writer's block.

"Alright alright, let me see it." You extend your hand, asking permission to take the notebook.

Daisy looks anxious, as if giving you this notebook makes her extremely vulnerable. You take note of her unease and try to reassure her.

"Hey, it's okay," you say gently. "I won't judge you or anything. You can trust me."

You shifted your gaze between the letters in front of you and the woman's face. Watching you with her most valuable object the redhead felt fear, flashbacks of such bad times where she was constantly invalidated sinking her like a tsunami, restless she sits biting her fingernails nervously waiting for your words.

No matter how hard she tried to pretend that she didn't care, that she was indifferent to anyone's opinion, she always looked for that validation, that feeling of finally having done something deserving of recognition.

"So?" Daisy kept moving her hands, tapping her pencil against the stage floor. "Damn Y/N, speak up!"

You look up from the notebook and see that Daisy is practically trembling with anticipation. You can see how much this means to her, how much she craves validation.

"This is amazing," you say, smiling warmly at her. "Truly. You're an incredible writer, Daisy. You should be proud of yourself."

As you speak, you see Daisy's anxiety start to melt away. She looks relieved, grateful, and a little bit amazed.

"Really?" she whispers, looking almost stunned.

"Really," you say firmly. "I'm not just saying that. Your talent is undeniable."

Now that you observed her better, perfectly analyzing every detail of her face you could see that your words had an impact on her, her eyes filled with tears and some even escaped her eyes.

"Hey princess, why are you crying?" You can't help the instinct to take her hands in yours.

"Nothing is that..." She quickly wipes her tears away with her right hand, keeping the other in yours. "I'm not used to that."

She held your hands again, she didn't need to say much, you knew perfectly what it was like not to be understood, and she finally after so long felt safe around someone. She takes her gaze down to your clasped hands, smiling at your touch.

"You're amazing." You reaffirm.

As you hold Daisy's hands and tell her how amazing she is, you can feel a shift in the air between you. There's a tension there, a connection that you can't quite put your finger on.

Suddenly, without warning, Daisy leans forward and presses her lips to yours. It's a soft, gentle kiss, but it's filled with a raw emotion that you can't ignore. For a moment, you're frozen, unsure of how to react.

"Daisy..." you say softly, unsure of what to say next.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly, her cheeks flushing pink. "I shouldn't have done that. I just...I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay," you say gently, reaching out to take her hand. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize."

Daisy looks relieved at your words, but there's still a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

"I'm just...I'm not sure what I'm feeling," she admits, looking down at her lap. "I've never felt this way before."

"That's okay," you say, your heart going out to her. "It's okay to feel unsure. And it's okay to take things slow. We can figure this out together."

Daisy nods, her eyes meeting yours again.

"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you for being understanding."

"Always," you say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Always."

You are dispersed from your conversation by the sound of the bell above the door, you both drop each other's hands in fright, taking your gaze to the door. You turn to Daisy and wink, getting up to attend to the customer, she smiles back at you, opening her notebook once again to try one more time. If her lyrics had made that smile appear on your face, she would make the best song in the whole fucking world just to see it again.

…

Since that kiss happened you can't get it out of your mind, all you could think about was Daisy, and when you weren't thinking about her you were thinking about her talented voice, or the way her eyes sparkled every time she had a new idea for lyrics, you couldn't stop thinking how I felt to be by her side the way you felt complete having her hands on yours. The Way she made you feel complete.

And with that the thought of having her away came, since the kiss she had been distant, she almost never came to the bar and when she did she was completely high. You knew how it was to be confused like that, you've been there before, but although you knew that she needed her time you felt so frustrated.

You cleaned the bar tables for the second time, trying to occupy your head and not think about her again, but it wasn't working… everything you looked at reminded you of her, the stage, the chairs, the drinks. That was her safe haven with you, being there together had become a routine and one you missed now that she didn't show up anymore.

You felt like you were in the dark. Not hearing from her for so long was torturous. You had tried looking for her at the apartment, but she weren't living there anymore. You couldn't help but think that she didn't care. It was a feeling you knew all too well, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

The dialogues on your mind are interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing in the place, you went towards the device. You answer the establishment's phone as you always do, holding it so you don't yawn from tiredness.

"Miss Daisy Jones gave us that number." The voice on the other end of the line says, making you feel butterflies in your stomach hearing that name. "She is in jail and needs someone to come get her, she gave us the name of a woman called Y/N. Is this the right number?"

"Fucking hell Daisy…" You whisper, soon asking for the address of the place to meet her.

…

You told your boss that due to an emergency you needed to leave early, he said you would have to make up that time tomorrow. And even though you hated having to pay hours, the only thing that crossed your mind was what the fuck had happened to Daisy.

You run towards the police station and after some time solving what was necessary you can see her. She looked a mess, and it squeezed your heart, she had a band around her wrist that made you frown in question.

Daisy leaves the cell with tears in her eyes, you knew it was time to be there to help your flower. Immediately you hug her, missing having her around, feeling her touch.

She doesn't say anything right away, just escorts you out to your car, as soon as you're both inside she can't hold back her tears and breaks down. You turn to her, pulling her close to you, stroking her hair as she lets it all out.

"It's okay pretty girl, it's okay." You whisper, kissing the top of her head.

Once she's calmed down, you take her face in your hands.

"What's going on?" you ask worriedly. "You disappeared…"

Daisy shifts her gaze forward, and you let her shrug off your touch. You feel a tightness in your chest. Seeing someone you love so much in this condition breaks your heart.

"I'm trying to understand…" you let out with a sigh.

"I'm a mess Y/N" Daisy says after a long time. "And I don't want to bring you into my mess, you know?"

You turn to her with concern in your eyes, letting her know you were there to listen. She looked so exhausted, like she was dealing with a whirlwind of things at once.

"Ever since that happened I can't stop thinking about you." She confesses, and your heart misses a beat. "And I tried, I swear I tried to forget it all in every possible way. But how could I ever really let go of you? You're the most addictive drug I've ever tasted, And look, I have experience a lot."

You can't contain your laughter at her joke, she laughs along with you still looking at the horizon.

"I'm sorry for disappearing, I don't know how to deal with my feelings." She seemed to be having a lot of trouble opening up to you. "I just know that I can't get you out of my head, and I have no idea how to deal with this, this has never happened to me before… And I really care about you Y/N, I'm so afraid of fucking this up"

She finally takes the courage to look into your eyes, she smiles, and fuck... How you missed seeing that smile, involuntarily you smile back at her.

"Daisy…" You say tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I haven't stopped thinking about you for a second, and I understand your fears, I feel them too. I tried to pretend that your absence doesn't affect me, that I didn't miss you every day, that I didn't feel a tightness in my chest when I saw the hours passing by and you didn't walk through the door of that shitty bar, but I couldn't... I can't pretend that I'm not in love with you, so, I hope you know I won't give up on you."

After some time, Daisy wipes her tears and looks at you with a shy smile.

"Can we get away for the weekend?" she asks. "I need to clear my head, and I want to catch up with you."

You nod without hesitation, feeling a surge of excitement and anticipation. You don't know where you're going or what you're going to do, but you trust Daisy completely, and you know it will be an adventure.

The next day, you hit the road with a backpack and the radio played all the hit songs. The wind in your hair, the sun on your face, and the promise of freedom and fun ahead of you make you feel alive like never before.

As you drive, Daisy tells you about her life now with The Six, how she's been writing songs like never before and how excited she is to go on tour. You listen with awe and admiration, marveling at her talent and resilience. She also updates you on the other band members, how they're doing, and telling you how each one of them are.

"I miss them actually," she admits. "But I can't go back, not now. I need to clear my head, be alone with you, if that makes any sense." She laughs, and you hold her hand.

You nod in agreement, feeling a pang of empathy and pride. You know how hard it is to follow your dreams, especially when they take you away from the people you love.

When you reach your destination, a cozy cabin in the woods, you're greeted by a breathtaking view of the mountains and the lake. You and Daisy unpack, make a fire, and cook some simple but delicious food. You talk, laugh, and dance to the music, feeling carefree and happy.

As the night falls, you lie down on a blanket outside, watching the stars and the moon. Daisy snuggles close to you, resting her head on your shoulder. You wrap your arm around her, feeling her warmth and softness. You don't say anything, but you don't need to. The silence is filled with the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts, and the rustling of the leaves.

This is what it means to be alive, you think. To be with someone you love, to feel the beauty of nature, to be free from the worries and pressures of the world.

You turn to Daisy calling her attention to you, she takes your face between her hands and kisses you, a calm, slow and gentle kiss that carries the love that between you only grew. You rest your forehead on hers, still keeping your eyes closed, feeling every sensation that this woman gave you, afraid that this paradise will slip out of your hands.

"You're the most beautiful flower." You say smiling, kissing her again.

Daisy smiled between the kiss, feeling butterflies dance in her stomach, finally being with the one she loved was the best feeling in the world.

...

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shyphonics · 16 days

Text

Salad Days Chapter 4: When Archeologists Dig This Up, They'll Either Laugh or Cry

(babypunk!Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

also, please take my favorite live performance of rise above by Black Flag as a companion piece

Hey!

I do not like you college brat

I do not like you and your frat

I do not like you at the shore

I do not like you drunk on coors

I do not like your average life

I hope you do not take a wife

I hope you don’t decide to breed

Cause that’s one thing I do not need

Well, they did it. They’ve got a van full of booze, and a sense of self satisfaction.

It had taken a while to fit everything in, and the guy at the pickup spot hadn’t been very nice, but they did it.

Mike seems more calm when they show up to The Strike, happy to see them, even.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, you giraffe of a man!” He pulls Rodrick into a hug, heartily patting him on the back. Rodrick does kind of feel like a giraffe, Mike only comes up to the middle of his chest.

“Hey, if there’s anything else you need, just let us know!” Rodrick gives him a smile.

He grabs a box of bottles and heads through the back door of the bar. The guys work like ants; grab a case, march to the walk in, march back. They’re done in no time. He wonders if the delivery center is hiring, because that was easy.

Mike shoves a bundle of money into his hands, and gives him another pat on the back.

“She was right about you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got the spirit,” he smiles, “like a young Henry Rollins, slingin’ ice cream. See you tomorrow. Show up at 5 PM, load in here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rodrick nods.

The spirit. He has no idea what that means, but he’s grateful for the sentiment. Especially if you’d said something nice about him… he finally has ammo to tease you back.

Mike disappears into the back of the bar, and the guys regroup to count their unexpected pay.

“Dude, he gave us a hundred dollars!” Chris says, shocked.

They recount again and again, coming to one hundred every time. They can’t believe it, and they speed away from the bar with the radio turned all the way up.

The rest of their day is spent planning. They craft the perfect setlist, they find their tightest jeans, they even find time to learn a surprise cover song. It's one he'd heard on your radio shift, and it's been stuck in his head all day.

Everything has to be perfect.

Rodrick is sure everything is gonna be perfect.

It’s only 5:30 by the time they’re done setting up, and they find themselves just standing in front of the stage, awestruck.

It’s not huge by any means, but it’s high off the ground and covered in lights. There’s a full PA system, and even a pole to hang their homemade bedsheet flag from.

The bar is empty, except for a guy in the sound booth, Jimbo by the door, and two bartenders prepping. Rodrick doesn’t see you, and immediately gets a pang of sadness.

“Hey,” he starts, leaning on the bar.

“We can’t serve yet, sorry.” A girl with tight blonde curls shuts him down.

“Oh, no, I was gonna ask… where’s the other girl that works here?”

She thinks for a moment, then makes a face of realization.

“Oh, she’s not working tonight. She’s headlining.”

Rodrick’s eyes go wide. Headlining? You? His mind is blown.

The bartender goes back to prepping without giving him a second thought. Rodrick walks back to the stage, zombie-like, deep in thought.

Now they really have to be perfect.

A few people have come in through the back, and they’re setting up portable tables along a wall.

“You guys need one?” A girl with tall, spiked hair asks.

They look at each other. Merch. Duh. They're pretty sure they have an unorganized cardboard box of t-shirts and buttons in the van. Ward had spent all his high school graduation cash on some real ones from a print shop.

Ben and Chris wedge the table out from between two vending machines, and Rodrick digs the box out of the van. It’s not a very impressive setup, but they’re pretty happy with themselves.

The doors open at 7, and it doesn’t take long for the place to fill up. Mike comes by and gives each of the guys three little paper tickets, like you’d get at an arcade.

“Beer tickets,” he says, before they can ask, “one of these gets you anything canned or bottled. Be nice to the bartenders, please.”

Ward and Ben high five and head straight to the bar, Chris heads to the bathroom, and Rodrick does a full scan of the area by the stage. Where are you? He needs to make fun of you for being nice to him, dammit.

Ward and Ben get back, looking a little shaken up.

“Rodrick, hey, do you want us to get you a beer?” Ben chuckles nervously.

“Nah, I can get it myself,” Rodrick starts to walk towards the front.

“No, no,” Ward puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You should really let us get you one!” Ben makes urgent eye contact.

“Why...?” Rodrick is starting to get freaked out.

“‘Cause we’re buddies!” Ward pats him on the shoulder.

Something is definitely up.

Rodrick pushes past Ward, walking through the tall arch that leads to the bar area. It’s absolutely packed. His heart skips a beat when he sees a flash of golden blonde hair.

Oddly familiar golden blonde hair.

The girl turns around.

No. It can’t be. There’s no way in hell that it’s-

“Heather Hills,” Rodrick whispers, grateful for the loud house music.

She’s sitting at the bar with a large group of people. Some douchebag with a double popped collar has his arm around her. They’re all laughing- the kind of laugh you do at someone. Snotty.

Any attraction he’d had to her has been completely gone for years. He feels a mix of hatred and nausea. They’re at the far end of the bar, by the door, so Rodrick blends in at the other end.

Please don’t look at me.

He gets a beer from the bartender from earlier, making sure to tip as your snarky reminder rings in his head. Also making sure to avoid Natty Light. He turns fast to get back to the stage, and right before he’s through the arch-

“Rodrick? Rodrick Heffley?”

He wheels around. She’s right fucking behind him.

“Oh, hey, what was your name again?” He rolls his eyes.

“Real mature, asshole.” She scoffs, “What are you doing here?”

“Playing a show. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aww, you don’t wanna play nice with me?” She drags a finger down his chest. It enrages him.

“No. And you know why?” His voice goes low. He leans down so his face is close to hers, and he’s about to let everything out. Her face is smug, and she raises her eyebrows.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his back.

“Hey, you’re on in ten. Soundcheck time.” You peer around to see Rodrick's face. He looks pissed. You’re not sure what’s going on, but it’s none of your business. You’re just the messenger.

Rodrick’s eyes bug when he sees you, and his face relaxes a little.

“Um, excuse me, we were talking.” The blonde girl sneers at you.

“You can talk later. We gotta get this shit rollin’.” You don’t wait to see her reaction. You just turn around and head back to the stage.

If you’re honest, it's a little disappointing seeing Rodrick with, you assume, his very pretty girlfriend. It makes sense though. He's a nice looking guy. Your official assessment is toxic on-again, off-again high school sweethearts. Oh, well.

Just keep walking. Stay on schedule. Five bands, twenty minute sets, ten minutes for stage change. You repeat it in your head like a mantra.

Heather’s mouth is hanging open. Rodrick winces.

“Gotta go,”

He practically runs to the stage.

They’ve never done a real soundcheck before, and it’s kind of an intimidating process. The sound engineer is very no nonsense. Rodrick checks his drums one by one. Then bass, guitars, mics. Each adjustment is barely noticeable to them, and they end up just giving a thumbs up every time the engineer asks a question. Finally, they run through the whole chorus of a song to hear everything together. By that point, the dance floor is almost entirely full.

Rodrick takes a deep breath, scanning for Heather. He hopes she just left.

They've come a long way since their high school days, no longer unpracticed wannabes. Their sound has become pretty good, if they say so themselves. Tonight's only adjustment is to play faster.

The sound guy points at them, and Ben clears his throat.

“We… are Löded Diper!”

The chatting in the crowd subsides, and falls silent.

Rodrick hears snickering, and a voice saying oh my god, that IS him!

He panics, and right when the tension is almost too much to bear, a loud WOOOOOOOO comes from the very front. He looks and sees you, trying to rile up the crowd. It seems to be working. Other people are giving half-hearted cheers, which is something at least.

“That's more like it!” Ben yells, and they launch into their first song.

They only have a five song set, so everything has to count. Ben’s wails are powerful, he's really embodying a frontman. Chris is whipping his hair around, and Ward is the true picture of a bassist. Strong, still, and holding it all together.

Rodrick is hyper-focused on keeping the rhythm. And maybe showing off, just a little bit. He puts his whole body into hitting the drums, his mouth pulled into a tight “o”.

You have a perfect view from the front row, and what a view it is.

He's killing it. So focused and steady, but it looks like he's having fun. He leans into the mic to sing backup, and you get a flash of his sharp canines. You can see the muscles in his arms clenching, and the front of his hair is wet with sweat.

You feel your face getting hot, and you're reluctant to admit it's not just from the packed room. You’re suddenly faced with the very real possibility that you're very attracted to him.

He gives you a huge grin and a wink between songs, and it's no longer just a possibility. Fuck.

Blasts of air from his bass drum cool your face down, and you stare at him a little closer, analyzing.

You've been infantilising him a little bit, you'll admit it.

Kid. Cute. Baby boy.

Although you’re pretty sure the two of you are the same age, he just comes off like a teenager. You couldn’t help but haze him a little bit, especially after he just wandered into the bar with no plan. He’s really proving himself right now.

The crowd is going crazy. You’re holding yourself up on the edge of the stage, but behind you, a sizable pit has opened up. People are loving them.

“We have one more!” Ben shouts. People are screaming.

“We learned it just for you!” Rodrick yells. There’s something snarky about his tone. You like it.

You recognize the song immediately. Their rendition is just a little clunky, but it works. You can't help but smile, and wonder if Rodrick somehow heard your radio shift last night.

It's such a good choice for a first show. Perfect, really. It's like they're saying, we're here, fuckers.

You let the crowd swallow you up as you sing along.

Society's arms of control

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

They think they're smart, can't think for themselves

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

Laugh at us behind our backs

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

I find satisfaction in what they lack

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

We! Are Tired!

Of your! Abuse!

Try to stop us!

But it’s! No use!

The aftermath of their set is chaos. Good chaos, but chaos. They tear down their gear and load up the van. On their way back in, people are yelling and patting their shoulders as they walk by.

Hell yeah, dude!

Good set, bro!

It feels good.

A small crowd has formed at their merch table. Chris takes on the task of handling the sales, and before they know it, their box is nearly half gone. They hadn't expected that.

Another unexpected side effect of playing a good set: booze.

Once the merch crowd is gone, old rocker types materialize, holding out shot glasses and cans. One guy hands Rodrick a shot of something that burns, and puts a heavy arm around his shoulder. He starts up a conversation about drumming, which is really more like a monologue.

You were great out there, man. Who's your favorite? Like, who's your guy? It's Lars for me, bro, 100%. I saw Metallica in ‘88, bro. Busted a knee in the pit, and now I can’t play a double pedal no more. Where'd you learn to play like that? You could play like Hellhammer with those arms. Fuckin’ rock on, brother. Oh, hey, sorry, I was supposed to give you this lime to help with the tequila...

Rodrick’s head swims as the guy babbles, nodding his head like he's listening.

“Thank you,” he finally sighs out. He’s exhausted from just listening to the guy. He pops the lime in his mouth, and it does help quite a bit.

People just keep coming with shots, and beers, and stories, and the guys end up piss drunk before the second band is done setting up.

Rodrick smiles and looks around. He's having fun. They did what they came to do, and people actually liked it. The rest of the guys are making conversation with the other bands. Heather and whoever else had been laughing at him are nowhere to be seen, and he's happy.

Even happier when you appear in front of the table.

“Heyyy!” He yells, giving you a singular finger gun, his other hand occupied with a beer can.

You take one look at his half lidded eyes and lazy smile, and realize he's wasted.

“Are you drunk?” You cackle, “It's not even 8:30!”

He turns, and spits a sucked-dry lime slice into the trash can next to him.

“Shut up! You're drunk!” Rodrick points at you, smile still wide.

“Oh, man. You're gone. Your girlfriend is gonna be pissed!” You laugh.

The drunk-happy look fades from his face.

“My huh?”

“That girl you were talking to you. Girlfriend, right?”

“No fucking way!” he bursts out laughing, “She’s a rich, stuck-up asshole! She's an evil witch from hell!” He downs the rest of his beer.

“Harsh, but I believe you.”

Well, that settles that.

You wonder if Rodrick has ever been this drunk in his life. He doesn't seem like he knows how to handle it, but he seems to be having a good time, at least.

“Hey. You did really, really good. You killed it. I mean it.” You lean on the merch table and smile up at him.

Rodrick’s eyes are sparkling, and his smile is somehow bigger than before.

“You liked us?”

“I loved you guys. Everyone did. They're totally gonna have you back.”

He looks like he might cry.

"Hey, don't I get a shirt? Wasn't that part of our deal?"

Rodrick thinks hard, finally remembering.

"Oh yeah!" He shouts.

He ducks down under the table and rifles through a big box. You lean over and tell him your size. He looks deeply focused.

He finally resurfaces, and holds up the shirt, triumphantly. You take it and sling it over your arm.

"Thanks," you smile, "I'll wear it all the time."

He beams.

You hold out your hand, and he hesitates for a second before grabbing it.

“You wanna come stand with me? The next band is up.”

Rodrick’s heart soars.

You lead him to the middle of the crowd, where three other people are gathered, talking.

“This is my band: Maureen, Jessica, and Eddie.”

Rodrick is seeing double at this point, but he smiles and waves. He thinks he sees a girl with ridiculously long black hair, a girl with very short green hair, and a guy with little round glasses.

“Good set,” the guy gives him a fist bump.

Before they can talk any more, a microphone squeals. Everyone in the crowd is at attention. Rodrick blinks to try and focus in on the stage; the next band has set up a giant, inflatable palm tree and some yard flamingos. They're all dressed for the pool, it seems like. Big, bright board shorts and floaties. The singer is barefoot, and has a megaphone in hand.

“May I have your attention please, may I have your attention please,” his distorted voice comes through the megaphone, “The president of the United States is an insect! All your lives are a lie!”

The next few minutes are a blur of sound and color. Rodrick can’t process anything that’s happening in front of him. The music is weird, but good. Messy. The words don’t make any sense. His body is starting to sway uncontrollably, and he’s worried he might topple over.

His shoulder bumps yours, and you look up. He doesn’t look so good. You grab his hand again and lead him out of the crowd, all the way to the front patio, stopping to grab a water on the way.

Cool air hits Rodrick’s face, and he feels at ease. You help him into a low metal chair, and he stares up at you, helplessly.

“Are you good?” You push his hair up, away from his forehead, and hand him the cup of water.

“That was a lot,” he breathes, dazed.

“Chug that water, you’ll feel better,” you lean on the railing next to his chair, “and no more booze, big boy.”

“I thought I was baby boy,” Rodrick slurs, smirking.

“I think you’ve transcended that term,” you laugh, “unless you want to be baby boy.”

“What if I do?”

“You’re so weird,” you give his chair a little kick.

He sticks out his arm to catch your leg, and chugs the whole water in one go.

He lifts your leg a little higher, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re speechless. That’s pretty smooth.

"You said something nice about me," he slurs in a sing-song voice, "Mike told me."

"Oh yeah? What did I say?"

Rodrick thinks hard. What was it again?

"Something about... spirits? And ice cream."

"Okay, buddy." You shush him, "Just take some deep breaths."

It’s kinda nice, just sitting with him in silence. The last bit of daylight is leaving, and everything is shrouded in a faint blue.

“I think I like you,” he says quietly, not looking at you.

“I think you’re drunk. Get back to me in an hour.”

“Can I like you in an hour?” He holds your leg a little tighter.

“Go nuts,” you chuckle.

You don’t move your leg, though.

You sit together until the set ends, and people start to file out onto the patio.

“You wanna go back in? Your friends are probably worried.” You bounce your leg a little to get his attention.

“Yeah. I have to pee so bad.”

Another trans-am’s wrapped itself around a telephone pole

“I ain't drunk, officer, I just fell getting out of my car.”

Don't worry about it, son. We were that way when we were young!

You've got all the skills to make a damn good business man!

Rodrick stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing deep. He feels a lot better after some fresh air and the longest piss of his life.

A stall door opens, and a familiar face shows up next to his.

“Heffley? Shit, that really is you.”

Bryan Kent is a bonafide asshole with a football scholarship, who'd made Rodrick’s life a living hell back home. He really doesn't feel like reconnecting right now.

“Yep. It's me.”

Rodrick turns to leave, but Bryan blocks the door.

“You're not even gonna say hi, diner dork?”

“Fuck off, Bryan. I'm not in the mood.”

Bryan pushes him, and Rodrick feels all that old rage bubbling up. He's still a little wobbly on his feet.

“Did the cops ever catch you for what you did?” Bryan takes a step towards Rodrick. He feels all the blood leave his face.

“Actually, one of my buddies from back home just passed police academy. You wanna come back to our table and put in a little confession?”

“Fuck off,” he pushes Bryan back hard, sending him right into the door.

You're waiting outside the bathroom, and starting to get just a little worried. One of Rodrick’s bandmates- Ward, you're pretty sure- is still by their merch table.

“Hey,” you smile at him, “Rodrick went into the bathroom kind of a long time ago. He was pretty wrecked, and I'm starting to get worried. Could you…?”

Ward is around the table before you can even finish your sentence.

“Don't worry, I got him.”

As Ward opens the bathroom door, another guy walks out, laughing.

“What the fuck?” Ward yells.

You come up behind him and see Rodrick, lying on the floor, face bloody. Your mouth twists into a sneer. Fucking frat boys.

You march to the front of the bar, and lean in towards Jimbo’s ear.

“Him. Out.” You point at the offender, who's still flexing his busted knuckles like a jackass. Like it's something to show off.

“Had a feeling.” Jimbo sighs, standing up.

Rodrick’s head is pounding.

He opens his eyes to see Ward, looking devastated.

“Dude, what happened? Can you get up?”

“Fucking… Bryan Kent,” he coughs out.

Ward helps him to his feet and hands him a bundle of paper towels. Rodrick dabs at his bloody nose and lip in the mirror.

Of course. Of fucking course one of those assholes would show up tonight, of all nights.

He takes a few moments to just stand there and recover.

“That was fucked up.” Ward breaks the silence.

Rodrick just nods.

They emerge from the bathroom and there's what looks to be a full on brawl at the front of the bar. Rodrick sees you walking quickly towards him, eyes wide.

“Are you okay? Jeez, look at your lip.”

You bring your hand to his face and take a closer look. It doesn't look like he needs stitches or anything, but his bottom lip is swollen, with a dark line in the middle. Blood is quickly drying up in one of his nostrils.

Rodrick jumps a little, and suddenly feels a whole lot better under your gentle touch. He gets lost for a second, just looking down at your worried face.

“I shouldn't have let you in there alone, I'm so sorry.” You murmur.

He smiles, but a yell from up front brings him back to reality.

“It’s cool, I'm fine. What's going on up there?”

“Well, we asked your... acquaintance to leave, and he didn't want to. And he's got friends.”

“Should we go up and help?” Ward clenches his fist, smiling slightly.

Rodrick’s other bandmates have joined the circle.

“I'd stay out of it, they've got it.”

You all observe as Jimbo drags Bryan out the front door by his ear. A second drunken dickhead is yelling I'm a police officer! Get off me! as a second, equally huge guy hauls him off.

Rodrick notices Heather following them out, rolling her eyes.

“Are we all good?” Someone from the stage asks into a microphone.

Oh yeah, there's still a show going on.

You all shrug, and head into the crowd together.

You take Rodrick's hand again, and give it a little squeeze. He turns to look at you, and smiles.

"Are you really okay?" You yell over the music.

"I'm really okay." He squeezes your hand back.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#sorry if this is too long lmao #im having fun #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley fanfic #doawk rodrick #Spotify

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