Casino Cups x Reader Oneshots

My Danish Sweetheart

Mugman x Perfect Golden Child reader
Requested in DMs
505 words
I assume "perfect golden child" meant yknow growing up w impossible standards set for you n stuff. uhh more notes in the end

Tonight, I was going to sing at the Devil's casino. It certainly wouldn't be the biggest or most important performance of my career, but I'd be damned if I treated it as such. Uh, hopefully not literally.

Seated at a vanity, I lined the walls alongside flappers, showgirls, and other performers that needed a bit of powdering. I made myself up the way I was taught as a kid. I'd smoke out a dark eyeshadow and pat highlighter on the center of my lids, always presenting myself as bold. It was this image of me, a perfect and confident (Y/N), that got me to stardom.

A light knock hit the door, followed by a voice behind it. "Is everyone decent?" A bright-sounding male asked. He got the green light from the ladies in the room and shuffled in, trying to avoid the women crammed into the tight quarters.

His head was a mug. His ceramic head had a bow on the handle and a straw in the actual mug part. He wore the casino's waiter's uniform in blue and he carried a large tray, bearing glasses of water. The man set the tray down on an empty vanity table.

I applied finishing powder to my face while the man made the rounds to the other performers in the room. I was distracted but still overheard some girls giggling when they received their drink, charmed by the young man.

He made his way to me, the last vanity in the room. "Here you go, Miss (Y/N)." He set my glass on my table.

"Thanks." I started fussing with my hair, patting down flyaways. But he was still standing there, expectantly. I stopped and took a slow sip of water while looking him in the eye, hopefully signaling for him to speak.

"So, listen." It worked. "My brother and I are huge fans of your work," he fidgeted with his gloved hands, "and I told him that I'd get you to sign something for us, so..."

He went patting his pockets for something to hand to me. But judging by his nervous chuckle, he had nothing.

"Can't leave a customer waiting, now can I?" I thought to myself, before reaching for his head.

His face flashed a pale pink before I sat back down, ribbon in hand. "You got a pen?"

The now fully pink mug sputtered a quick "Yes of course!" before grabbing a pen out of his pocket and passing it to me, hands shaking a little.

I smiled tartly at him before biting the cap of, signing the ribbon, and sticking the pen back into the cap.

"There ya go," I bestowed the two back to him. "That's all you needed?"

"Uh, yep." His face had settled back down after a while, but his voice completely betrayed his uncoolness. "I'm... Gonna catch the show later. Good luck! Break a leg... I think." He grabbed his tray off the table and scampered away before he could be lectured about improper theatre speak.

AAGH guys I'm back I'm sorry this one's so short but I had too much cooking up in my brain for this oneshot so it's being served in at least TWO courses babeyy
uh this first part is a lil too "nervous baby" mugs for my taste but I mean he's meeting a celebrity right
Actual important thing to note right now is the future part(s?) of this story are planned to contain more themes of child abuse (not physical but yknow child star stuff) and uhh idk the title is from a mitski song and I'm finishing this at exactly 1 in the morning sorry for all the extra words ok drink water byeee