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mediocrevideopodcast · 3 months

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Prompt: Calling the Lackadaisy characters by their full name

A/N: University has been keeping me busy, and I've been in a bit of a writers block. So in the meantime, take this goofy little thing!

Includes: Rocky Rickaby/Reader Calvin "Freckle" McMurray/Reader Dorian "Zib" Zibowski/Reader Mordecai Heller/Reader Viktor Vasko/Reader Serafine Savoy/Reader Nicodeme "Nico" Savoy/Reader

Rocky Rickaby:

Rocky's always pleased to hear his name fall from your lips… "Rocky Rickaby…" he loves to occupy your attention, and he's not above doing a silly trick here and there to get you to utter his name like that. But his given name? You can't even finish "Roark" before he's at your feet, begging for forgiveness. Queue the waterworks -- his muse, his winter sunshine, his summer breeze please, please forgive him. For he is naught but a mortal man, riddled with the propensity for mistakes, but is -- Hm? The maple syrup is in the back of the pantry, yes. Yes, next to the peanut butter. -- is that not the natural state of such mortal endeavors? Surely, such a divine being must take pity on the folly of man!

He doesn't register that you were only playing with him. Or, maybe he's realized and is just committing to the bit. You'll never know. What you do know, however, is that you'll have him at your feet for the next hour or so.

Calvin McMurray:

Calvin, Cal, Freckle… Sweetheart, in private. McMurray, when you're teasing. Calvin really gets the gamut of names and nicknames when it comes to you. But when he hears his full name yelled out from the opposite end of the house, he's nothing if not panicked. The past two decades of Irish Catholicism really beats that into you. He rushes to your side, back straight, head down in silent apology for… whatever it is, that he did.

"...Yes, dear?"

He has to bite his tongue a bit to not bring out any honorifics, but the message comes across just the same. There's only 2 times he uses "dear" as his go to-- 1.) In front of his mother, 2.) After he's done something he shouldn't.

Decompresses instantaneously when you ask him to open the pickle jar. He exhales quietly, holding his hand out silently for the jar. His heart can't take this sort of thing. Don't do this to the poor man… too often.

Dorian Zibowski:

Blinks owlishly when he hears his full name shouted out from across the house. If there's any way to sober Zib up… this is it. He's leaping to his feet in an instant, rushing to where you are… and slowing down when he's just out of sight. He smooths his fur and his clothes and takes a deep breath before waltzing calmly into your line of sight. Play it cool.

"Funny way of pronouncing "Zibowski, doll. Need something?"

He takes it in stride, but don't be fooled -- he's quaking in his boots, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He feels the weight lifted off his chest when you ask him to grab something from the top shelf, although you'd never know that. He does, however, press a lingering kiss to your temple after he passes the item off to you. Don't read into it too much.

Mordecai Heller:

He tears his eyes away from his book, glancing at you from over the rim of his teacup. "Yes?"

He's truly unaffected. He's introduced by his first and last name all the time, and he was never scolded in such a manner as a child. If you were looking for some outlandish reaction, all you've got is his quiet attention. And you might want to answer quickly -- he'd really like to finish this chapter tonight. This is quite a grueling read, you know.

His true name, however, is a different story. But that's for entirely different reasons, and well, you wouldn't know anything about that. Right?

Viktor Vasko:

Yet another one who is unaffected. He looms over you a bit -- which really, isn't unusual for him considering his stature -- humming questioningly.

He's a man of few words, and even fewer reactions. You've really gotta put some emotion in your voice if you want to get any sort of reaction out of him, and even then the most you're likely to get is a raised eyebrow… maybe a bit of a head tilt if you're lucky. And you can really only do this once -- he'll remember your little trick for next time.

(If you really want to get a reaction out of him, use some sort of petname. He secretly finds them rather sweet, and the right one will force-reset his brain a bit the first few times you use it. )

Seraphine Savoy:

Seraphine isn't unaffected by the use of her full name… rather, she revels in it. She's always enjoyed the flow of her name, but it always seems to fall from your lips like some goldly golden ichor. To call it heavenly would be a bit of a misnomer -- sinful, mayhaps? It's a difficult feeling to place, but she strides over to you confidently nonetheless. Her lips quirk up as she leans into your personal space.

"Yes, amou?"

Nicodeme Savoy:

Truthfully, he isn't the biggest fan of you calling him by his full name. Well, his full first name, anyways. Feels too stuffy, for his liking. But he takes it in stride, waltzing up to you lazily. He rests his arm on your shoulder and leans down to be eye-level with you, eyes half lidded with a grin. He throws your own full name right back at you teasingly. Need something? Want him to grab something, or open a jar? Hm?

His grin stretches a bit wider when you pout -- you really thought you'd get him this time, huh? He kisses you chastely, nipping at you softly in jest. Gotta try harder than that to shake him, bebe.

#divider by @cafekitsune #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #nicodeme savoy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #dorian zibowski x reader #serafine savoy x reader #calvin mcmurray x reader #viktor vasko x reader #lackadaisy imagine #lackadaisy rocky x reader #lackadaisy nico x reader #lackadaisy mordecai x reader #lackadaisy serafine x reader #lackadaisy viktor x reader #lackadaisy calvin x reader #lackadaisy zib x reader

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angelltheninth · 26 days

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I'd love to see something smutty with Husk.

Or maybe

Something fluffy with a lackadaisy character of your pick 👀

Never wrote Lackadaisy but you inspire me so much!

Pairing: Nicodeme "Nico" Savoy x Reader

Tags: fluff, protectiveness, fighting, threats, purring, teasing, kissing, cuddles

A/N: These characters should not be so attractive omg.

Will actually fight for you and enjoy every second of it

Purrs when you kiss but denies it happened

As he gets into a brawl he leans over and kisses you, says it's for good luck but you both know he doesn't need luck to win

Only cuddles with you when it's time to go to bed

He wouldn't say it but sleeping next to you relaxes him a lot and makes falling asleep easier

Enjoys when you massage his hands

Nico loves to act like a tough guy but he does have a tiny bit of a soft side when he's with you

Don't tell anyone, he has enough of his sister teasing him, he might get into a fight if it were anyone else

Scoops you up in his arms when ever he feels like it, no warning at all

Glares at anyone who whistles when you walk by, you're attractive but he won't have anyone disrespect you when he's around

#lackadaisy x reader #nico x reader #lackadaisy imagine #lackadaisy headcanons #lackadaisy fluff #lackadaisy #nicodeme lackadaisy #nicodeme savoy

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kalegrinch · 3 months

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⭐️Sunshine⭐️

Rocky Rickaby x Gn Reader

2k~ words

I’m not normally one to publish fanfiction, but I figured I’d share some to feed my growing infatuation for Rocky. If you like this, don’t be afraid of leaving a request of any sort. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated. This fic is really reader’s-internal-emotional-constipation heavy (with a side of Rocky), so read at your own risk.

SUMMARY: You meet Rocky in a cold alleyway on a rainy day. What could he possibly want at this time of night?

WARNINGS: None, except for the incessant use of the pronoun he and parentheses-notes (I promise I did those two things for important reasons)

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Maybe it was the way in which the cold rain fell from the dark and misty night sky, drenching you completely and you wadded around. Maybe it was how it cascaded down your face like a river, like water running downstream. Maybe it was the way the lullaby yellow color from the odd street lanterns reflected on the gray cobblestone of the streets of St. Louis, casting dark shadows in every direction imaginable. Maybe it was the cold wind whipping past you and flicking your tail back and forth, only stopping to seep solemnly into the fur of your body, hidden away in a jacket you stole from a generic store long ago. Or, most likely, it could've been him. The sole being that could wake you on a night like this. Him, standing peacefully with his back turned to you, always moving and fidgeting and humming along to any new tune he creates spontaneously with the flick of his whiskers and the tap of his shoe. Him, perfectly unaware of your presence.

He’s waiting for me. Even the thought of something so preposterous chilled you to the marrow, but you didn't understand why. When Mitzi told you he wanted to meet you here earlier in the speakeasy, you had plenty of time (A little less than 42 hours) to prepare (Mentally) for him. When and why had it all- everything from his random ramblings to the toothy grin to the syrup-coated language- suddenly become too much? When had it suddenly made you feel differently? Now you look forward to seeing him every day and participating in those stupid antics with him. It’s getting to the point where he’s one of the only things that pushes you forward to face every waking hour you have to endure on this planet. When did it get to that? And why?

You didn't dare let yourself think about (let alone believe in) anything more than platonic feelings. There should be nothing more than platonic feelings between the two of you. Nothing.

But why did that feel so wrong?

St. Louis isn't known for its hills, but this one that led up to this particular spot meant a lot to you. This particular spot, where the sun would always come up in the morning and where no one was curious enough to venture. Almost hanging on the horizon, it always spreads its glorious, haunting light across the acres of water that was the Mississippi River. You would often come to this cliff with him, always sitting on the very edge of the thick, stone railing that tried its best to prevent accidents with the shallow water far below, waffling with him till your throats were sore. And then some more, for good measure. It had become a tradition, to spend early mornings here with him. And you made sure it happened enough, enough to nourish this newfound infatuation for him that you regret admitting even to yourself. Everything on the other end, across that ambiguous, murky sea, was blurry and insignificant, mere blobs of floating rock and bridges you could never cross. Sometimes, when you stared hard enough at the sight, you felt rather insignificant yourself. The thoughts would come running, coating you in the solution of your own despair and agony. Leaving you alone in the dark and endless tunnels of panic and fear, the one of your own creation. But then you'd turn around to your companion by your side, the one bathed in the sun’s orange light that never stopped the goofy yackety-yak and heartfelt, serious conversations with you, and for a couple of minutes the weight would be lifted and the world wouldn't feel as colossal, as cruel as it always did. The world was starting to feel more worth approaching with every day that passed, as long as you could approach it with him. Now, your quiet footsteps echoed out in the dim and suffocating alleyway, a backdrop for his bard as you approached the incoming balcony that, after a long drop, gave way for the river. When you were close enough, you could see his relaxed shoulders, the rain dripping from his hat, and the way he leaned on the nearby brick wall for support right at the opening of the cleft where the two compact buildings ended. Although he was turned around, you could clearly picture his eased expression and considering eyes, scanning the river that was constantly being struck by the rain, mishaping the reflection of the bright, full moon from far above. He was always more subdued here, more calm, as if he felt sufficiently safe enough around you to let his guard down for you (It took plenty of coaxing for him to reach that state, of course) His voice rang into the night sky, only weighed down by the abundance of droplets that made you regret the fact that you did you hair this morning (for him):

A lover of choices more inconspicuous than ambivalent

She walks along penetrated pathways, all apathetic and innocent

The feeling’s initial, official, more vivid and free

Better than the perspicacious preacher of the land and sea

You’d never heard it before. It must have been new.

“Hey there sunshine,” Your surprisingly hesitant voice broke through the silence, “What’s that one about?”

He immediately turned around to face you, just as he always did in response to any of the teasing nickname you decided to use at all given moments. Sunshine had become one of your favorites, as it always earned you a warm smile and tail swish. Now there was a surprised grin plastered across his face, and you had to take your time to observe his pretty features.

Pretty? Where did that come from?

The icy blue eyes that always impeded any train of thought and seized your breath. The expressive eyebrows, imperfect blue suit...the blatant bullet hole in his sharp ears you've always wanted touch. All at once, you had an infatuating urge to run forward and encompass him in a hug as an apology.

Snap out of it, idiot

You had created a seven-inch glass wall between the two of you for your sake. To maintain sanity. And maybe dignity, too. But there was a look of need present on his face, like his want for its demolishment exceeded your comprehension.

“Ah, M’lady! What a pleasure, encountering you today! I was thinking-”

“Cut the dramatics, sweetheart. It's pouring out here. Unless you're planning to take me back to your place, I suggest you get on with it.”

The evident flirting was normal now (You assumed) but it still managed to catch the both of you off guard. It didn’t feel appropriate, this late at night, only reciprocated with the song of rain. Unpunctual nights alone in your drab apartment made you wonder if it meant anything. To him. And maybe to you, too. Nevertheless, it was expected of you. It was a part of your “personality.” It was your thing, your thing around him now.

Still, he smiled, “I wanted to… um…discuss the incident from mere days ago...”

You promptly recalled what he was talking about. A couple of days ago, you had a small argument in the speakeasy, resulting in you storming away from the situation before it escalated. Something about your safety. Ever since your first encounter (The one you’d like to forget but he always teased you about) the two of you followed each other everywhere. You practically had your own language, for whenever the two of you were at it with an easy-going squabble, heads would turn and concerned looks were spread.

I’m pretty confident the nature of pickles do not require an extended thesis, sunshine

But they do, love, they do! Think about it: The earth is a pickled fruit of the universe, just as pickles are the pickled fruit of the earth!

…Pickles are fruits?

Following him constantly resulted in figuring out about the whole rum-running gig sooner than expected, and after a plethora of begging, he let you come with him on those dangerous, late-night expeditions. It had become a trend, and you had more or less ditched journaling and had become an asset for the Lackadaisy. It wasn’t very profitable, but spending time with him was worth everything you had to give. And after a particularly wild quest, he asked you to stop aiding him in those misadventures so you wouldn’t get hurt, and the spat ensued. And you ran away. And you haven't seen him in three days, whether it's out of pure embarrassment or fear. Ah, great. Now you were spiraling into if he cares enough about me to fight me for my safety… then that means something, right? You couldn’t stroll into this dangerous territory of believing blindly. Not again.

“Well,” You took a breath and faced him again, mustering a look of defiance, “I don't want to”

“I'm not going to pester you with that topic, love,” He chose his words carefully, speaking slowly like you’ve never heard before, all while maintaining eye contact, “Not today. I just wanted to see you again. I’ve missed you, to be frank” He made a weird face, a mix between apologies you did not require and come to me, please.

The honest commission left you with your mouth agape and took all of the previous guilt and regret away, leaving you with a horrible feeling of loneliness. Sure, you’d expected it for you yourself felt empty without him recently, too. But verbal confessions were different than made-up acknowledgement. It was as if you had just now processed the days you spent without him, and while a meager three days to the average person, enough to make you start towards him with your arms spread wide, actions tainted with regret. The invisible seven-inch glass wall vanished beneath the desire of him.

You hadn't spared a glance at the look on his face before you collided with him, arms enveloping and causing him to take a few steps backward, trying to regain his composure. It wasn't long before he reciprocated the hug and the two of you were locked in a warm, supposedly never-ending embrace.

The side of your face hung close to the fluff of his chest, and for a few quiet moments, you heard his shallow breathing and heart beating. When you felt his resting head on yours, you brought your tail towards his fluffy one hesitantly, merely tapping the tip of his tail in question. The question was answered as if there was not time to spare and they entwined, a reassuring feeling you’ve never really felt before. A feeling of thank you. Thank you for staying. It was the type of happiness, fondness and fulfillment that captured who whole being and seized your heart, stoping it in this moment of time. This moment of time, with his arms wrapped around your back, his body shielding you from the cold, cold rain. This moment of time, where the forbidden three words were stuck at the edge of your tongue.

Those words were forbidden for a reason, so instead you tried to express yourself in, “God, I’ve missed you too”

It was a soft murmur, accompanied by you pulling your head away from his chest and resting it against his forehead without a glance at his expression for fear of what you would find. You made it fast, you made the motions quick. The big feelings were swallowing you whole and it made you act out of reason. For a couple of seconds, the two of you breathed the same air and felt the same things. His fur touching yours, his paws on your back. You could hear a sharp inhale from him with the touch, but it soon returned to a slow inhale and exhale and his whiskers tickling yours. The low temperature of the cloudy night was long forgotten, now it was just you and him in this debarred show of affection. It was peaceful. It was quiet, giving a movement for the pattering rain to continue singing.

But he spoke anyway, cutting the sweet melody short. Drawing his head back slightly, he averted his gaze from yours, as if what he was about to say was very important to him,“I started wondering-actually-” He cleared his throat, the nerves catching up, “Um... over the past couple of days- If you, um- if you trouble yourself... with the thought of me... like I do... with you” His head faced you once more with a tentative yet adorable look. He was absolutely petrified from this new whatever you were. He was petrified… but you knew, whether it was fact, your intuition, or just simple stupidity, that he craved this new whatever just as much as you did.

But this was weird, you had to admit. His stuttering was weird (He’s never stuttering). This level of touch was weird (The two of you were accustomed to that sort of thing, but not like this). The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach, the growing feeling was weird. You resented labeling it, whatever it was.

You resented labeling it. Always did, always would. Because once you confirmed to yourself what you felt was real, the chance of making it out alive would deplete exponentially. Because he would leave, like they always did. And if he left now- you’d barely be able to scrape by. So you didn't want to imagine what that would be like after you admitted everything.

But, for once, when you pulled away, there was a new measure of fondness that overtook everything you held close, every rule you’ve ever written for yourself. Because when you pulled away and stared into those blue, thinking and questioning and beautiful eyes, and when you reached up and ran a gentle finger over the conspicuous hole in his ear (despite your better judgment) and when he gasped lightly, his mouth agape and as he continued that observing and questioning stare (With something else mingling underneath, if you dared to dream)... nothing was holding you back. It could be the death of something precious, but as long as you could show him you cared, the needed actions were important and required.

So before you could spiral into another abyss of hurt and regret and rules written in sand, you reached up onto your toes and closed your eyes, still enveloped in a warm embrace that challenged the night itself. You somehow got closer to him, with the smell of syrup and rain coalescing your senses, and your whiskers locked together as you brushed your lips against his. With extreme care, you took the lead in navigating this newfound warmth. For a couple of seconds, you just stood there as your current post short-circuit predicament was brought forth into conscious realization and you started regretting everything that brought you to this point, to this kiss. The confidence was melting away and you were about to pull back, but that was the exact moment you felt him return it with the zeal of a starving man.

For what felt like hours, the two of you stood in the pelting rain and nipping wind and the glow of the bright moon and odd yellow street lights. For what felt like hours, you were free of the problems that veiled you in life and haunted you in dreams. For what felt like hours, you let yourself feel love.

But all good things came to an end, and you were running out of breath. When you pulled away and opened your eyes, you got to witness something not many get to see. His eyes were closed for the first few seconds, but when they opened again you could see the blown pupils and awestruck expression on his face, the parted, gasping mouth, and the shallow breaths and the completely ruffled exterior, with all that thinking and commotion going on inside displayed perfectly for view. Something you didn't know you needed.

When he got himself together again, you were patiently waiting (As you always were). The yellow of the lamps lit up his face, his astonished expression evident as for once he was lost for words.

“I-I… you-”

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, hm?” You let your voice become a whisper to reflect the rain that continued to patter on the stone ground, “Can't wait to see a drunk Freckle. I wonder what he’s gonna do when Ivy kisses him” Back to the persona. Back with the personality.

Before the innate desire to stay with him caught up with you, you sent him a quick peck on the cheek and snapped around without much thought, back towards where you came from. Your tail swished against his leg as you walked away as a last form of good-bye, and before you turned the corner you threw a quick glance at him, the want controlling the rational part of your brain that demanded a dramatic exit.

Cradling his cheek with his hand, his mouth was agape (as it seemed to be quite often recently) and his pretty gaze was trained on you from across the alley. When he registered your eyes on him, he did a slight double take and straightened himself up even though that did absolutely nothing as he still look as frazzled as before. So very adorable. So very yours. Through the rain, you decidedly sent him a quick wink and walked away. Keeping face, and all.

And for the first time in a while as you trenched back to that dingy apartment you’ve started to identify as home, you wondered if the ability to love still thrived inside you. Truly love, not the acting you displayed constantly to satisfy the seemingly infinite void of fear woven into the fabric of your being like an abandon tapestry left to collect dust. You’d have to give love another shot and tend to it, though. As your dad used to say, miracles don't come by often, and only an idiot lets one slip by. Rocky sure felt like a miracle.

#rocky rickaby #lackadaisy #rocky x reader #request stuff if you’d like #let me know if you enjoyed it #freckle lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #Fluff #mutual pining #lackadaisy rocky x reader #Sunshine #Nicknames #Rocky Rickaby x reader #roark rickaby #Roark Rickaby x reader #lackadaisy imagines #lackadaisy imagine

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unproduciblesmackdown · 1 year

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always enjoyed the Chess Set In The Foreground perspective framing used here

now also noting like, huh, a chess set in a general store just visited by marigold competitors who killed one of their guys and are now on the way back from their rendezvous point w/suppliers

#and now to take a big sip of ''nothing suggests lackadaisy ft. people stuck / things repeating / death begetting death''#not like i suppose we're going to be hit with ''& then mordecai and viktor sat down at the defiance field office for every passing gangster #played chess and then went and properly slaughtered the lackadaisy crew and arbogasts at the funeral home / barn w/car-sized holes''#good reminder though that Viktor Is Now Active....left off with elsa managing to give him a phonecall; for good measure #lackadaisy #i have no lengthy Mitzi Mordecai Murder Mystery Musings posts for today (b/c not enough fresh musing insights) but no prommies #epiphanies are on their own schedule #quite the chess piece arrangement seen there too lol. can't tell if there's any Classic Configuration in the game b/w viktor & mordecai #not a chesshead and never was lol strategy games??? who's that #or i'll play them but not strategically. invented Flick Chess for indoor recess in elementary school #you flick a piece across the board and whatever you knock off the board = you took those pieces lmfao #though not like that has Zero strategy. thinking of my day enjoying tiddlywinks research #imagine my delight revisiting all this material like oh yeah the little pic of freckle tiddlywinking #let's squop; boys #i'm also supposing that chess sets? checkers sets? and etc. would be common general store features; like phone usage....real general....#but like; what; are we expecting this Not to bring a response from marigold lol #got the nervous twitch but they're like ''ah it's fine. cost of doing business''

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luminlunii · 4 months

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Alternate ending to the hugsperiment comic where Rocky actually does get a hug from Serafine

Idk, I love both of them and I just want good things to happen to Rocky

Fair enough lmao. This is a bit more detailed than my other sketches cause I really liked your idea :D

#artists on tumblr #digital art #lackadaisy #lackadaisy rocky #lackadaisy serafine #i have no idea how tall serafine is compared to rocky #just imagine that serafine is talking sht about mordecai or something i don't know #ooc?#not a ship #please don't tag this as a ship #lumin sketch

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a-libra-writes · 2 months

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can I please request for a Mordecai Heller x female reader? like reader is a showgirl who sings on stage like Mitzi one and tends to attract a lot of attention but backs out when they feel this murdercat plotting their death lmao. thank you 😁

heyo! I decided to do a looot of the cats for this one, since its p similar to my Peaky Blinders Jazz Singer post that I was fond of. GN Reader.

Being a Jazz Singer & Performer!

Rocky - When he was hired and met you for the first time, it was absolutely an "infatuation at first sight" situation. Pros!: He's unfailingly polite and sweet, he seems to play with even more energy when you two share a stage, his grin is very off-putting to creeps who shout up at the stage and harass you. Cons: He can get quite distracted when you two share a stage. Many times Zib has had to pull him back with the rest of the band, because he keeps unintentionally scooting closer to you.

The worst part of the Lackadaisy falling onto hard times is the fact you rarely worked there now - you had to sing at other clubs to make ends meet. One of Rocky's big motivators for getting the club back to its old self is you'd come back! Forever this time! (Probably). Rocky doesn't exactly have the time or money to visit the other clubs you work at, so he wants all of your attention during your infrequent visits to the Lackdaisy.

Freckle - Look, he's a shy kid, and the whole 'sneaking out under cover of night to do bootlegging/torpedo shenanigans' is still new. He doesn't have a lot of experience or frame of reference for what a good club singer is like, but Freckle thinks you've got to be one of the best. You have to be, right? Your voice is wonderful and you look positively celestial under the stage lights - wait, that's weird to think, right? Thank God he didn't say it out loud. ... He didn't, right?

Freckle hasn't the slightest idea of how to approach you, so it's up to Ivy and his cousin to drag him over and attempt conversation. It's... a little pitiable, but he's trying. That said, he's surprisingly outspoken and a little scary if someone tried to mess with you while you performed. You're used to the heckles and catcalls, but it's shocking to see that shy tabby jump up from his seat and raise his voice at them.

Ivy - She liked you from the moment she first saw you perform at the Lackdaisy, and that crush hasn't dulled over the months. She maaaay have kept a few posters that advertised the clubs you sang at, and may or may not have cajoled her way into those clubs so she could watch the show. She could easily sweet talk her way to backstage, too - seems you've got a fan.

When the Lackadaisy goes downhill, it's Ivy who wants to sweet talk you into returning. You'll bring in a crowd! The acoustics are great! Pretty pleeease? Her dad Ivy will pay you and not get in trouble until months later when the family accountant goes over the finances. Obviously she cares about the club's wellbeing, but she also wants to spend time with you! Though she's bold enough to just ask you outright. She's also bold enough to outright shout and fight anyone whose heckling you - throwing a heel is a favorite tactic.

Viktor - You're someone he saw often in the olden days, back when the club could afford to have you perform several times a week rather than once a month. Viktor never cared much for the cacophony the crowd and music made, though he knew objectively you were an excellent performer. Rather than endure the crowd, he'd listen to your voice drift across the caves backstage, rehearsing with the band or just by yourself. It was pleasant to listen to, and he could do so in private, either coming back from a job or about to go on one.

Once things began to fall apart, it's not as though he went around to clubs ... or anywhere, really. So if you stopped performing at the Lackadaisy, you might never see each other again. Choosing to stay (or at least do a few pity gigs) would lead to the surprising sight of the big, morose Slav working behind the bar and watching from there, rather than his previous hideouts. It's a little intense to be under that stare... but not all unpleasant? And given how sparse the crowd is, anyone making trouble and catcalling will get dealt with so promptly, they won't even have time to finish their wolf whistle.

Zib - Well, obviously he's going to be drawn in by an attractive singer. Come on. Zib can be smooth when he wants, chainsmoker-scent and rumpled clothes aside. The band likes to tease him mercilessly about it, but that doesn't stop him from cozying up while you two perform together and shooting his shot backstage after every show. Back when the Lackadaisy was thriving, he could afford to hang out at the other clubs you performed at; nowadays, though, that's not so likely.

Even so, starting up a friendship or even fling wouldn't be difficult. He's attracted to and interested in creative spirits, doubly so if you two had very different taste (so there's more to discuss!) and you got on well with the rest of the band. Late-night debates about this musician or that show over a game of cards and several bottles of wine, either together or with the rest of the boys, and waking up half-dressed and seriously hungover come sunrise. Opportunities for visiting would dwindle as the Lackadaisy's business dried up, though if you stayed on ... No, he wouldn't want that for you. If anything you'd be mentioning to him and the band that there's other places to perform to pay the bills. Well, it'd be food for thought.

Wick - Wick wouldn't call himself a music aficionado, especially what's listened to at these rowdy speakeasies, but he won't deny how hard it was to focus on his business associates when you were on stage. So when he discovered you often performed at his favorite club, it was a pleasant surprise. He really wanted to speak with you at some point, at least compliment the performance, but didn't want to come off as those typical entitled wealthy guys who get too fresh with ""lower"" class performers ... so sometimes you'd find flowers in the dressing room and an anonymous note of appreciation.

He finally gets a conversation when you're a guest at a posh party he's attending, or when you continue to perform at the Lackadaisy in spite of the dwindling crowd. It's a shame your large audience is missing, but at least it's way less awkward for him to strike up conversation when you come to the bar? He probably won't bring up the flowers. Oh god, what if you think that's weird. You probably assumed the flowers were some freak fan. Is he a freak fan? He's not, right? (It will take him like months of dating to finally admit to the flowers thing)

Serafine - A good-looking cat with a nice set of pipes is certainly someone she'd notice, especially if they were a regular performer at the Marigold Room and other places she frequented before that. If it was the former, she'd have plenty of chances to wink when you met eyes, "chancing" across you backstage or just being forward and chatting you up after the show. She certainly isn't shy about expressing her interest, and it could be a fun fling.

You do look adorable swinging your hips and swaying your tail along to the beat, not to mention the different get-ups you have to dress in. Serafine maaaay or may not have wanted to help pick a suit out, or help with make-up, or give you some of her jewelry to wear... It's half marking her territory and half she loves to lounge around your dressing room and be a pest. You'd never kick her out and she knows it. She'll do it in other clubs, too, though you have no idea how she keeps getting past security.

Nico - Like his sister, he has no qualms nor shame about trying to get your attention on stage. Unlike Serafine, though, he'd start doing it immediately and be a general pest after the show. The difference between his attention seeking and the other men's in the audience is he actually has some charisma when you two meet backstage, so you're only slightly inclined to tell him to buzz off. He wasn't much of a music expert, and he still isn't ... But he likes hearing you rehearse and hum to yourself, and it's endearing when he requests songs.

He's pleased when you get gigs at the Marigold Room, as it's easier to hang around before and after the show - and bonus, he gets to be extra aggressive with throwing creeps out to impress you! But if you're performing elsewhere then Nico will stop by. He might be bruised and/or bloody because he just left a job, but don't worry! Sometimes he'll even bring flowers or whatever - though without Serafine knowing, she'd never let him live it down.

Mordecai - He wouldn't approach you any differently from others - he'd still be his usual prickly, anti-social, often awkward self - in fact, he might avoid an avid performer, simply because they often have fans around them or at least people recognizing them. What could get his notice was someone whose real persona is very different from their ostentatious self on stage - more quiet and pensive, perhaps. Like any attempt at friendship, let alone romance, it's slow going with him.

That said, he's the type to admire professionalism in a performance. A well put together outfit, thoughtful musical arrangement (as if he's an expert ...). He wouldn't like a femme presenting singer have to wear skimpy clothes or tolerate a rowdy audience. If there was a questionable manager or creepy fan bothering them, Mordecai can deal with that, at least, not that he'd tell his friend/partner. Mordecai would generally glare down any touchy fans and annoying admirers like a jealous terrier. This amuses Mitzi to no end.

Asa - Simply put, he saw you performing at a ritzy party he was invited to and reached out to your manager so you might perform on a weekly basis at the Marigold Room. Very professional! He'd send flowers with his name to the dressing room afterward, would make sure you're finding everything to your liking and not being bothered by anyone. Requests to continue performing would bypass your manager to being nice, short handwritten notes.

Eventually he'd pay you extra and treat you to a nice dinner afterward, if you were comfortable with it. If you let the older man down, he's not too bothered. He'd continue the friendly business relationship and would still send flowers and so on. He'd rather keep you as a good business associate and continue to enjoy the performances than let his silly feelings get in the way. Alas, he is hopeless at discussions of your music. My guy called a ukelele a tiny guitar.

Wes - He never hung around the Marigold Room after hours - it's his workplace, and not really his vibe - but it's very hard to resist not sitting by for an hour (or three) with a drink while you finish your set. Sometimes you two will meet eyes, or he thinks you are, and he considers dropping backstage to say ... hello? He's an 'employee', so isn't checking up on you a normal thing to do? Make sure you're satisfied with the Marigold Room and all that. Right.

Ironically that's how he's finally able to meet the singer he's been mooning over for months. A drunk patron was getting too cozy on your way out, and Wes happened to be there. His face and ... charming demeanor is good for scaring off upper class wimps. So there's that. He's not so bad, though - clumsy, and prooobably realizes you're out of his league. You get to see more of his earnest side when you two meet outside of the Marigold Room, where his fellow murderous gangsters coworkers aren't watching yalls every move with popcorn in hand.

#posting 1 year later lets go lmao #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #calvin mcmurray x reader #ivy pepper x reader #viktor vasko x reader #zib zibowski x reader #wick sable x reader #serafine savoy x reader #nico savoy x reader #mordecai heller x reader #asa sweet x reader #wes clyde x reader #also lmao sorry mordecai would not take a singer/semi famous partner well. too much attention #its funny to think abt tho like. cannot imagine this man has taste in upbeat jazz #cant even pretend to dance at least calvin tries!

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draw-the-squad-like-this · 7 months

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Draw your characters like this (via)

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multi-fandom-imagine · 21 days

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imagine reader and Viktor having sex for the first time and it feels so good that Viktor starts praising them in his native language (Slovak) almost purring growling in their ear

things like: cítiš sa tak kurva dobre, že by som ťa mohol súložiť celý deň (you feel so fucking good i could just fuck you al day)

toodles ✌️✨

You can't do this to me!!! You can't just give me this wonderful Imagine and peace out!!!

Because I can see that!

Imagine:

With a younger Viktor back from war, or maybe he meets you our dear reader when the U.S aids them in the war. You're a nurse and he is quickly smitten with you.

He's always speaks to you in his native tongue when he is flirty. He starts to learn english from the American soldiers so you to can properly speak to one another.

Then one day it happens, you hear his unit get's attacked and it scares you so much. You thought you lost him and you two have sex.

It's nothing but raw passion, Viktor is growling in your ear as he fucks you. One holding onto your hip while his other paw {hand} is digging into the mattress. You're trying to stay silent but it feels so good.

And he is speaking Russian in your ear and you nearly lose it.

You discovered you have a voice kink now.

A much older Viktor, the only one he's ever been intimate with was his ex wife and now that he is with you he's just scared to fuck things up.

But one night when you're helping him recover from his injury it just becomes too much and soon you're riding him.

You're so beautiful, he can't stop praising you.

Can't stop telling you how wonderful you are, how wonderful you feel.

He starts speaking to you in english but Viktor starts to slip and now he's full on speaking to you in Russian.

You're not ridding him in the more as he is the one in control.

Controlling your movements and he can't get enough.

#blurbs #blurb #imagine #imagines #lackadaisy #lackadaisy viktor #viktor lackadaisy #viktor vasko #viktor vasko x reader #viktor x reader #lackadaisy x reader

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name-incoming · 24 days

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Trying to push my Lacy x Serafine agenda 👀

#lacy hardt #lackadaisy serafine #lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #Lacy x Serafine #lackadaisy fanart #serafine savoy #lackadaisy lacy #Imagine the dynamics these two can have

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mediocrevideopodcast · 4 months

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Kissing: Rocky Rickaby

Pairing: Roark "Rocky" Rickaby/Reader (GN)

Content Warnings: Very vague comic spoilers if you squint,

Kissing rocky is like jumping into a cold pool on a hot day. Shocking for the first few seconds, yet everything you could ever want in that moment.

Quick and spontaneous, Rocky tends to keep you on your toes. Part of him likes seeing your wide-eyes and lovestruck smile when he catches you off guard, but the other part of him just wants to be as close as he can to you as often as he can. He'd kiss you all day if you'd let him, and believe him, he's tried.

His favorite place to kiss you is, well, realistically anywhere you'll let him. But he's rather soft for kissing the back of your hand. It's the romanticism of it all.

His favorite place to be kissed, though? Well, that's also anywhere. He just likes your attention. But when you kiss him on the lips, he just melts. You'd have to be blind to miss the hearts in his eyes, nevermind the way he beams afterwards. He likes the intimacy of it -- although, he's also partial to temple kisses... and there's a spot just below his jawline that absolutely shuts his brain off.

Contrary to what most might think, though, his first kiss with you was… hesitant. Afraid of driving you away, of being too much, he let you take the lead. Soft and tender, it's a moment that he'll remember for the rest of his life. And you'll always remember his starstruck gaze as you pulled away, pupils dilated. The way his breath shook, the way he chased after you when you parted. You still get these kisses sometimes, away from prying eyes.

On a happier note: Often tastes like maple syrup. The sweetness matches well with his playful nature. Sometimes he'll squish your cheeks just to see you pout before kissing you. Sometimes he'll nibble at you a little. If he had even an ounce of strength he'd try dipping you into a kiss, but, well… spaghetti arms. It's a curse.

His hands never stay still either, especially when you get to properly kiss him. His hands always seem to roam, eager to be close, to explore, to hold. It's overwhelming, in the best way possible. The outside world just melts away, leaving only the two of you behind.

#lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy imagines #lackadaisy rocky x reader #roark rickaby x reader #lackadaisy imagine

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jaybutnotthebird · 11 months

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IMAGINE MEETING ROCKY ON THE ROAD

-Imagine meeting Rocky on the road when you were both homeless teenagers.

-Imagine being slightly bigger than him, since he's buildt like a noodle, and of more thought appearence, just 'cause you can't possibly be as cheerful as him

-imagine that you can play some short of instrument that fits fine with the fiddle, like a little flute or a guitar, and the two of you hit it off right away

-imagine Rocky telling Freackle about you in one of his letters

-imagine you two geting to know each other deeply, little by little. Soon there's a point where you know the sadness behind his grins, and he knows exactly how to tease you and when not to do it

-imagine one of you geting into trouble, and expecting the other to get away only to have them come back and risk it for you

-imagine that, for a while, its the two of you against the world, playing little songs and telling stories to earn enough to eat while on the road

-imagine the inside jokes, the hours spent just walking and talking together, the nights cold as fuck but good enough to make do, the feeling of compañerism between you two

-imagine the few fights and arguments between you, wich, no matter how bad they could get, were forgotten as soon as they ended

-imagine joining the cyrus together, maybe even starting a simple, fun musical number to entertain the audience

-imagine that one of you lost the job at the cyrus and the other doubted not a second to follow, to stick together

-imagine what may have been the reason you went your separate ways

-maybe (and this is just my imagination) maybe you two realiced what you felt for each other and panicked. Had an argument. Decided it was better to put some distance between you

-imagine regreting that choice, as you spent night after night alone on the road, wondering if the other is ok and if they miss you as much as you miss them

-imagine going back at one point and trying to find the other, but theres no use, so you just give up on It and keep only the memories

-imagine ending up at St Louis, doing odd jobs, from playing on the street to the more dangerous, ilegal kind

-imagine meeting by chance on the street, and its just sudden joy without second thoughts

-imagine Rocky just passing by, hearing the familiar sound of music. He knows what that instrument is but it didn't occur to him it would be the exact same, played by the same person. When he comes closer and sees you he just runs at you exclamig your name. You abruptly stop playing and return the hug, lifting him in the air, no matter who's watching

-imagine the sweet, exciting joy of a chance sudden reunion with an old friend like that

-imagine how you both have changed, becoming older, stronger... He looks good in blue. You are still dressed humble, tho not in rags like when you first met

-imagine talking for hours, catching up. He brings you to the little daisy café, gets pancakes, then takes you downstairs, introduces you to everyone

-imagine making a little demonstration of the songs you use to play. You havent done this in years, but one of you starts a familiar tune and the both of you fall right away into it, in sinc

-imagine you finding some odd job with the Lackadaisy crew, maybe somehow fiting your little instrument in with the rest of the band, but also joining Rocky on his dangerous runs

-imagine you two talking up to late hours like back in the day

-imagine finding a little place to bunk in together, at last. A place of your own.

-imagine geting upset with Rocky, and telling him to his face that his life is worth much more than three meager bottles of shit water. Imagine breaking them in a fit of rage just to drive the point home.

-imagine threatening him with burning the speakeasy down if he gets hurt. Imagine his face.

-imagine him being pensive and quiet after this

-imagine the two of you finally acting up on your feelings after years of constant struggle and distance

-imagine your life together from there

#lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #fanfiction #imagine #ocs #reader #rocky rickaby x reader

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