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heliads · 2 years

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Lisa, my love, I would like to extent my sincere thanks for you taking my Seacat request, especially when you have half a million things in your queue already. That said, here we go!!

Okay, so I would like to request a Seacat + male Reader. The Reader is not a biker or surfer, but he has a punk aesthetic that goes a bit further than the bikers', to the point where most people are a bit scared of him and he doesn't really have any friends. However, he's actually really quiet and sweet, and has an amazing singing voice, but most people refuse to spend enough time with him to realize this. But since Big Mama looks at him as something like a son, he spends a lot of time at the restaurant, helping out around the place.

One night, Seacat gets to Big Mama's before the rest of the surfers when they're supposed to hang out, and he hears the Reader singing while wiping down tables and is just... blown away. Seacat, who's actually had a crush on the Reader from afar for a while now, insists that everyone should get to hear the Reader sing, but the Reader is too used to people being scared of him and doesn't really want to. Eventually, though, Seacat and Big Mama together manage to convince him, and the Reader performs the next night at the restaurant, and once everybody hears how beautifully he sings and realizes what a sweet and nervous person he actually is, they start to warm up to him more.

And then the fic ends with the Reader thanking Seacat for helping him gain some confidence, and they have a really sweet confession? If you don't want to write this, though, that's totally cool! Thanks and have an awesome day/night, and I hope you're doing well!! 🖤🖤🖤

yes yes yes teen beach movie + jordan fisher my beloved

masterlist

Seacat typically prides himself as someone who has always been able to figure people out. Give him thirty seconds and a good solid stare, and Seacat has a hold on anyone, down to the last item on their bucket lists. The only exception to this rule came with the whole surfers versus bikers dilemma of the past few years, but no one was able to see through that, so it’s not like Seacat was any exception.

It’s quite disappointing, then, that Seacat finds himself looking straight at a dead end. There’s a kid in town who’s neither surfer nor biker, some sort of strange third option that has never really existed before in all of Seacat’s knowledge. Everyone around here is either a board shorts beach kid or a slicked back scrambler, no in between.

It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense whatsoever. Maybe that’s why Seacat is so fascinated with figuring the guy out, and so deeply frustrated that he can’t seem to manage it.

He thought he was being pretty cool about not letting his desperation to sort this boy into categories show, but evidently Seacat’s wrong on another front. He’s barely walked outside the doors to Big Momma’s with a crew of surfers one sunny morning when he’s confronted with the truth.

It’s another hot day out near the surf, and Seacat and his friends had retreated inside for a few minutes to grab some cold drinks. Now, they’re lounging near the entrance, waiting to finish their drinks before hitting the water again. Seacat is leaning against the wall, regarding the odd boy out with what he thought was a barely perceptible interest.

According to his best friend, Tanner, however, Seacat’s eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets. The other surfer takes one glance at Seacat and starts to laugh.

“Listen, what’s your deal with Y/N? Did he accidentally get chewing gum on your board or something?”

Seacat blinks in surprise. “No, what are you talking about?”

Tanner shrugs, evidently not as consumed by the mystery of just who Y/N L/N is as Seacat. “Figured he had to have done something, or you wouldn’t be staring at him like that. I mean, yeah, he’s a little weird and all that, but the rest of us have given up on him.”

Seacat frowns. “But what if he’s not just weird? What if there’s something that all of us are missing that actually makes total sense?”

“Like what?” Tanner asks, dubious.

“Like how we all hated the bikers until we realized they were just like us?” Seacat hazards.

Tanner groans in acknowledgment. “You’re not wrong there. But look, Y/N is different. He’s not a biker at all. There’s no understanding him.”

“No,” Seacat says, staring out across the street towards where he can just make out the silhouette of Y/N disappearing around the corner, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

In all honesty, Seacat can understand why Tanner doesn’t seem willing to give Y/N a shot. None of them are, not really. Seacat can’t even remember whether Y/N started out as a surfer or a biker, he’s been his own guy for as long as anyone can remember.

Seacat supposes the best description of the enigma that is Y/N L/N would be a punk. Studded jacket, dark and deadly stare, the works. He’s too edgy for the surfers and too unique for the bikers, and thus Y/N stays by himself, always on the fringe of both groups, never truly a part of either.

He’s been poking up on Seacat’s radar for some time now, but Seacat has never been called to action on the matter until recently. It’s been a slow burn of impressions, attentions, and near misses, all contributing to the gradual sense that everybody in this entire town is skipping over something about Y/N, something big.

Seacat is determined to figure out what that something is. He doesn’t know why, but he has to figure it out. He’ll never rest until he does. For now, all he can do is keep staring, keep watching, and hope for the moment in which Y/N’s tough as nails demeanor drops and Seacat finally gets to see the real person inside.

As it turns out, Seacat’s golden opportunity might come a little faster than he had hoped. Barely a few days have gone by since that conversation with Tanner before Seacat finds himself strolling down to Big Momma’s again, this time later in the afternoon. The surfers are all going to hang out here tonight, maybe have a dance or two before skipping on down to the waves.

Seacat had nothing better to do other than twiddle his thumbs, so he decided to walk over to the restaurant a little early, just because. Maybe he can help set up or something; they all owe Big Momma that much for letting the surfers and bikers crash there time after time.

It looks as if Big Momma already has a helper here, however. Seacat has barely breezed through the doors before he stops dead in his tracks. There’s another boy half hidden in the shadows of the place, wending in and out of Seacat’s line of sight as he cleans off tables and gets the place ready for the day.

It’s Y/N. What’s more, seeing as Y/N believes himself to be alone, he’s singing along to some old tune rattling out of a banged up CD player on a nearby chair. He’s got a good voice, anyone could admit that, but Seacat is so startled to hear it coming out of a boy like Y/N that he’s blown away even more.

Seacat doesn’t know how much time he spends standing there, just looking, just watching. It reminds Seacat of the sunrise on an early morning, empty beaches as far as the eye can see. No one else sees the crystal clear blue of the water, just you. No one else hears the fact that Y/N L/N might be the best singer in the entire town, just Seacat.

He could have stayed there until the end of time, he thinks, but of course no pure thing can stick around here forever. Eventually, Y/N loops casually around a table, putting him at just the right place to look up and spot Seacat standing there at the entrance. Although it’s been wonderful to listen to Y/N sing, he was only allowing himself such freedoms because he was working and supposed himself to be alone. There’s no reason he would ever continue if he knew he had an audience.

Seacat knows that in an instant, even before the boy looks up, startled, to lock eyes with him. Instantly, Y/N looks away again, speaking in a gruff voice so as to discourage any possible thought of conversation.

“Place doesn’t open for a while,” he says, “might as well head out again.”

Seacat shakes his head slightly. “I hardly want to leave now. I didn’t know you could sing so well, Y/N.”

Y/N chuckles, barely a trace of humor evident in the sound. “Didn’t think you and your friends had the chance to figure it out. You never came close enough to try.”

Seacat winces. “We were wrong for that. I can see it now.”

Surprised, Y/N glances back over at him. “You mean that?”

Seacat nods solemnly. “As much as I mean that you should sing more often. This whole town should hear you.”

Y/N arches a disbelieving brow. “Did you hit your head on that surfboard? This town doesn’t want to even see me, let alone hear me sing.”

“I want to hear you,” Seacat says quietly, “Isn’t that enough?”

“You think one person is enough to make a sort of change like that?” Y/N asks, grip lazing on the side of his broom.

“Yeah,” Seacat says, unsteady at first but gaining strength as he goes, “Yeah, I do. Say, you should have a concert right here. Maybe it could happen next week. People would come, I’ll make sure of that. You’ve got a gift, Y/N. It would be a crime to let people forget that.”

Something like a smile appears on Y/N’s face. It softens the hard lines on his countenance, turning a jagged stare bright with light.

“You really believe in this whole idea, don’t you?” Y/N comments. It doesn’t sound like such a hard no as before. In fact, it almost sounds like a yes.

Seacat just nods, and that’s all it takes for Y/N to nod back at him.

“Alright, then. If you’re so sure of yourself, let’s do this. I have to ask Big Momma though, it’s her place and she has the final say.”

He’s scarcely voiced this thought before someone instantly calls back to him from the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t even think twice about it! We’re doing the show, no doubt about it.”

Seacat and Y/N stare at each other for a moment in the resulting silence, then start to laugh. It appears that Big Momma may have been listening in to their conversation. At least she approves of the whole idea, right?

Then again, it’s not like she would have ever said no to something like this. Y/N has been all but adopted by Big Momma for a long time. When the rest of the town turned their backs on the boy, Big Momma was the one who stood up and offered him a home. Now, Y/N has been a permanent fixture at this happy seaside eatery, so of course it makes sense that Big Momma would want to do anything to give him a better shot.

With this final benediction, Seacat is clear to get the concert in order. He organizes friends, grabs decorations, and basically does everything in his power to make sure this is going to work.

In some secret part of his mind, Seacat is terrified that it won’t. What if this town is so used to its preordained rules of right and wrong, its norms and traditions, that it refuses to let Y/N into the limelight even when he shows his capabilities?

Even now, Seacat can predict how that would go. It would crush Y/N for good, and probably take Seacat down with him for attempting something like this. At the same time, so what? Seacat has been wanting this for a while now, even if he didn’t know it would come in the form of a concert. If this is how he’s kicked to the curb, fine. At least he’d be in good company.

Seacat’s fears, however, turn out to be unfounded. Surfers and bikers alike roll up to the concert in record breaking waves, all eager to see the show. They’re earnest about their intentions, too, not a spark of scorn in sight.

As they should be, in all honesty. From the moment Y/N takes the stage and starts to sing, a hush falls upon the entire restaurant. Everyone, biker and surfer and cook alike, is silenced by the sheer force of their awe. Seacat knew Y/N was good, but that was when he wasn't even trying. This is something entirely different, something special.

The concert is over before he knows it, before it really should be in Seacat’s opinion. Y/N is immediately flooded by a rush of well wishers the second he steps off the stage, and for quite a while, the only thing Seacat can see of him is that brilliant, dazzling grin.

Eventually, Y/N manages to shake the crowd long enough to make his way over to Seacat.

“Well,” he says in his best attempt at a casual voice, “you might have been right about all this.”

Seacat grins almost as broadly as the other boy. “You mean it? You had fun up there?”

Y/N laughs. “Could you tell? I’ve never felt better. Doing all this, seeing all those people actually listen, it felt like I was living for the first time.”

“Well, I didn’t see a single person who wasn’t enjoying themselves,” Seacat says, “so clearly, your idea of living is right up there with everyone else’s. I’m glad you did this, Y/N. Really.”

“So am I,” he whispers, “but can I tell you something?”

At Seacat’s questioning nod, Y/N continues. “I didn’t just do this so I could be welcomed in by the rest of the town or whatever. I did it for you.”

Seacat’s brow furrows. “What? Why me?”

“It made sense to me,” Y/N smiles, “You were the one who was so excited about it. You haven’t seen me as a threat for quite some time, I’ve noticed that about you. Maybe I wanted to prove you were right about me. Yours is the only opinion I’d care to keep.”

Seacat looks at him, really looks at him. There’s no need to disguise his staring any more, each and every one of his glances Y/N’s way can be treasured to the utmost. “I wanted to do this for you,” he says unsteadily, “Guess it makes sense that we were each doing it for the other person.”

A shout from the other side of the restaurant; people are calling for encores, anything to get Y/N back up on that stage and singing again. The moment is stolen away again, but Y/N lingers just a little longer.

“You’d be surprised what I would do for you,” he says, and then vanishes back into the crowd, a shadow slipping away through this sea of friendly faces. Seacat stands there, breathless, and slowly, gratefully, begins to smile. He’s beginning to get an idea as to Y/N’s character, he thinks, and this time, he’s right.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

requested by @starlit-epiphany, i hope you enjoy!

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