#pirate au is still hanging by god knows what means | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sevlgi · 3 years

Text

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship.

a/n: while i was writing this, i imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao...

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is. Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?”

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung.

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek.

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head.

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,” you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown.

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips.

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins.

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist.

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #rosé x reader #rosé imagines #rosé scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink rosé #blackpink chaeyoung #park chaeyoung #park chaeyoung x reader #park chaeyoung imagines #blackpink is the revolution #blackpink in your area #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios

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katnip225 · 3 years

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So remember that au where the dream smp is a comic book in the manhunt universe. Well more of that. This is what manhunt!Dream thinks of each character. Now I will just be using the real names but in the comic the names are different. Not doing the tales of the smp characters. Might also get some backstory for Manhunt!Dream

Techno - As stated in my prev post, this is Dream's fav character. He has regularly copied ideas from him. He loves all the pets that Techno has. And how no matter what Techno always follows his beliefs. Might also remind him of his childhood rival.

Phil - finds the character very funny. The 3 months thing. Through does have some very good serious moments like Nov 16th and Doomsday. The guy is clearly not perfect but he really has a hard time hating the guy. Only time he did hate Phil was during Doomsday for letting Friend die and hurting Ghostbur.

Wilbur - easily his 2nd fav. The way his fall was done. It was so heartbreaking. Then his revival. To find out about being alone for 13 years was rough. Dream feels for the guy since being on the run is very lonely. The only people he talks to is when the hunters get close enough for banter. He really hopes that Wilbur gets the help that he needs.

Ghostbur (yes counting this as a different character) - loves the guy. so sweet and just wants to help. Through feels very sad because of the memory thing and the blue. Plus the speech that he gave on Doomsday.

Tommy - this kid can't catch a break. He feels so bad for the kid. Tommy is a good kid that overall does not mean harm. The only thing that Dream hates Tommy for is killing the cat. Dream likes animals and while can understand why Tommy did it, still found himself crying over the cat's death. Dream always wanted pets but his life before on the run was rough and now there is no way he will get one

Tubbo - another kid he feels sorry for. Dream feels bad for Tommy but for some reason Tubbo hits harder. Maybe it is because Tubbo reminds him of one of his neighbor's kid. They are pretty similar in personality from what he remembers. He was sad when the neighbors moved. The scene of Tubbo crying hurt so much. He really wanted to jump into the comic and comfort him.

Ranboo - Easily his 3rd fav. The memory book. The ender walking. The weird connection to main bad guy. The begging to be locked up in the prison. Plus love the marriage to Tubbo. Really hopes they can talk to each other. This comic needs one healthy relationship that lasts. Reminds him of this enderman hybrid that helped. Found the kid lost in the woods and badly hurt. So helped get the kid back to help then took it to the village with the nice baker lady. It was a nice village so hopefully the kid is okay.

Michael - yes doing their son. Super cute. The in comic reason for keeping Michael inside is for safety. I like to imagine there is a small mini series of Michael playing pretend or sneaking out to meet the other kids.

Fundy - neutral. Does not like him but does not hate him. Through is curious about the seeing the future thing. Wonders if this is his god's blood in work. (in the comic, Wilbur is confirmed to be a demigod. Only Phil and Techno know about it but it was confirmed)

Yogurt - cute kid. Hangs out with Michael when he sneaks out.

Puffy - a cool pirate and therapist. Kinda wish that she was his mom. He does not have any parents but he feels like Puffy would be a cool mom. She went feral when Foolish was killed.

Niki - reminds him of a baker he meet once while on the run. This was before he was well known so he could risk being seen. She gave him some free cookies and gave him a discount on the bread when she saw that he did not have much money. Super sweet and nice but also not one to be messed with. He saw how that baker handled an attempted robbery. Sad to see her wanting to hurt Tommy but was so happy that she is healing.

Jack: Feels bad for the character since he is put through so much. Even had to crawl out of hell.

Karl - love the guy. The time travel spin off series is super cool. feels bad for the losing memories things.

Quackity - flip flops between feeling bad and hating the guy. Quackity has been through a lot and Las Nevadas is cool. But he is just doing what the main villian did. Please just heal so you can be at peace. Hopefully him and fiancés will get back together

Jschlatt - great villian. hated the guy. Also reminds him of his neighbors. The father. Through was a much better person. Actually wanted to give a better life for his son (Yes in this au, DadSchlatt is a thing and he is a good father)

Purple - felt bad for the ufo being blowen up but does not feel anything towards him.

Punz - He respect the guy. Reminds him of a mercenary person that once was after him. Through stopped after realizing that the pay was not worth all the chase. Needed to be payed more

Ponk - felt bad for losing his arm but otherwise neutral for the character

Skeppy - over all neutral. Nice guy and feels bad for the possession thing.

Eret - liked the guy then hated the guy then went back to liking him. Glad the character was making up for the whole betrayal thing.

XD - does know what to make of this character. Through does not trust the god with George

Drista - a fun character that can cause a lot of chaos. Would want as a sister. Yes he might get attacked by a fork but hey he already has a younger brother.

Kristen - not much is known about her. Only that she is Wilbur's mom (in the comic, Wilbur does say his mom is a fridge but I am going on what Phil said. Which is that Wilbur got confused when Phil pointed to the fridge which had a pic of his mom)

MD - fun guy. So sad to see him die. Was really helping Tommy

Mamacita - another fun character through has not been seen since MD's death.

Sally - in the comic Sally is a shapeshifter through the writer wanted them to be a fish. Their editor refused to allow that. Not really shown much outside flash backs. I go back and forth on how good of a mom she was. So if she was good then Dream liked her. If not then he hates her.

Slimecicle - very confused. not like conflicted. Just confused.

Sam Nook - like him. Only one he trusts Tommy with. If he could becomes friends with Hunter!Sam would totally ask if he can build something like Sam Nook

Sam - really hates the dude. Does not care that the main bad guy asked Sam to build it. Sam has control so everything is Sam's doing. Plus the whole thing with Ponk. Part of him does remind dream of Hunter!Sam but that was earlier in the comic. Hunter!Sam would never hurt his partner (Yes Hunter!Sam is dating Ponk)

Ant - again the character remind him of Hunter!Ant. Through overall neutral. Does feel bad for the whole possession by the egg thing

Sapnap - hopefully gets back with Quackity. The dude really gets the short end of the stick. Also reminds him of Hunter!Sapnap. Through hopefully his relationship goes better then dsmp!Sapnap (yes Quaickity and Karl are his boyfriends)

George - reminds him of Hunter!Geroge. The weird dream comics were funny. feels bad that the character can't tell what is a dream and what is real.

Bad - again remind him of Hunter!Bad. Only reason why Dream does not hate dsmp!Bad is because he is being possessed by the egg. He did not like Foolish being killed. Also finds it sweet that the character was willing to do something for Skeppy. (yes. Bad and Skeppy have the same relationship as canon)

Dream - is a great villian. very evil. Through as stated before. Does not like the prison treatment. Does see himself in the guy but it is like all his more negative traits were turned up to 1000. Through Dream is lonely and does not make attachments, there is one he can't get rid of. Since that attachment is why he is doing all of this

Foolish - can probably tell he really likes Foolish. reminds him of his younger brother. Foolish being killed was the one time he needed to put the comic down and take a break.

that is everyone. There are a few more that I really don't watch so have no idea what Manhunt!Dream's opinion would be.

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mari-lair · 4 years

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Norray halloween week Day 1: Ghosts!

If curious, below are some random info about this Teacher/ghost AU

Ray got a gun and he can use it. The ghost gun isn’t able to touch, much less physically hurt anyone, but it replicate the sound of a real gun, which contributed a lot to how low priced his haunted house rent has become. It nearly gave Norman a heart attack the first time he heard it.

After being dead for a while, Ray learned how to turn visible and invisible at will and play around small objects such as paper, shoes and butcher knives. He can control up to 4 small objects at a time or something relativaly heavy like a chair if he really concentrate. The more he got the hang of controling and moving small objects the lower his house rent become, rarely getting aggressive but still able to physically hurt people. On All Hallows Eve he can posses people’s bodies and get out of the house he haunts, but he always ends up back to his empty ‘home’ when the night is over.

Ray is an incredibly fast learner. Just by observing the people that visits his house, he learned a decent amount of modern english and understand the basics of how tecnology is a thing now -he wished this advanced tecnology was invented when he was alive. It would make the of lack of food and nutrients less of a deadly nightmare in open sea.

As a pirate, Ray used to be the one in charge of doing most of the bloody work and take the night watch, protecting his captain’s back from both outside and inside forces. He was constantly alert, borderline paranoic. But as the years in death passed, he grew more calm, very patient. He usually don’t mind new people in his house, happy to learn more modern english and befriend the guests willing to tolerate him. If a new guest cross a line however, Ray will do his best to scare them away. Hurt them or kill them by manipulating knives if he sees fit.

It’s very rare for adults to see Ray as anything other than a nonsense they have no energy to deal with or a warning sign for their crumbling lives, so he usually hang around kids. The childish company mellows him with time.

Ray is from a time where death was common and getting hurt was inevitable so what people consider pretty serious is something Ray considers mild “Why are you being so dramatic about seeing some bone? Be grateful your hand is still attached to your wrist after you slaped your daughter. If it wasn’t for her wishes you wouldn’t have legs to run away.”

Norman is considered a genius and have countless prizes under his belt. He wanted to go to the moon when he was a kid but because of his weak health, he knew he would not be acepted in the space program. He decided teaching was the next best thing later on, accepted as a teacher in a prestigious school while still young. He enjoys and understand all subjects but love history the most, unable to deny it was hard and frustrating to teach a whole class of teens at times but still liking his job. Having one student that was genuinaly interested in his class was more than enough to make his day.

When Norman first started teaching, he felt more responsable than he had his whole life. It wasn’t a bad feeling per see, but it made him anxious so he called his little sister Cherry once a week to ask her questions about her teachers and make sure he was doing a good job.

Norman may not be the funniest of teacher but he’s still a favorite for his palpable cares for his students. He does not make the subject easier than is requested but he put a lot of effort into making people enjoy their world history, teaching with passion and seriously answering any questions, no matter how silly or joking it sounds. He’s understanding and try his best to help those with dificulty with the subject, always giving people second chances, having lost countless nights of sleep correcting re-writen essays after deadlines and turning his test questions into podcasts for students with adhd, aware the big historical excerpts are fundamental for answering the test but too hard to focus, specially with limited time.

The lambda crew are problem children. Norman went the extra mile to save Barbara and Zazie from failing classes even outside history and left Vincent startruck with his wide knowladge about not only world history but a ton of subjects he could be teaching too if he wasn’t overworking himself. Norman is both happy to inspire the squad to study hard and also very awkward by their blind admiration.

The teacher had a firm “ghost don’t exist” mentality, which is one of the reasons he brought the haunted house in the first place. He had chalked Ray up as an halucination from his sleep deprived brain, having the rotten luck of buying the house right after a bad guest owned. The ghost got more annoyed than usual from things as insignificant as Norman keeping the lights on for too long, putting music Ray doesn’t vibe with, or just acting unfairly cute, to more personal matters such as Norman studying about Ray and his family lives. They used to have a distant and bad relationship but once Ray noticed Norman had only admiration for history, being genuinaly kind when trying to talk instead of mocking his existence, Ray apologised. Norman was still wary at first but they quickly hit off, enjoying to learn what the other had to offer and matching in wits.

When Norman catch a fever or a bad cold Ray gets wary. He know, on some level, that medicine have evolved a lot, but he remenbers way too clearly how serious even the weakest of diseases could get if not imediatly treated. He always stick by Norman’s side when the teacher sneezes, not taking his eyes off him. Usually Norman keep working when he catch a cold, so Ray learned to float Norman’s grading papers out of his reach when coughing joined his sneezes. Floating a paper is enough to get Norman to take a break most of the time, but if the get stubborn Ray will stop playing nice. Just lower his voice to comander mode and order “Rest. Now. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.” and Norman does what he’s told, it’s very unconfortable to have a gun in the face and he does feel very tired.

When Norman is seriously sick, not just coughing but stuck to his bed. Ray freak out and fear for his life. When it reached this level, most of his crewmates died or had to be thrown in the sea to not infect other. Yes Ray know it’s not as bad anymore, but even when he observed guests, they rarely got sick, and when it got bad they where taken to a doctor. Norman lives alone so he got no one to feed him and bring him blankets or take him to the doctor if he lies for hours in bed. Ray was all the help he would get and he is fucking dead, he can’t measure his temperature or take care of him properly. Ray does tries his best though. He concentrated a lot to float heavy blankets and pillows towards Norman. Imediatly fetching any pills asked of him and doing his best to make him tea. It isn’t tasty, but Norman still appreciates his care.

Ray is the first to fall in love, he think “If only I could kiss this fool and hug him, I would do it on the daily. I wish he was alive back then... He would love meeting Emma...” at least once a week but a big part of him is just “Forget scurvy! Norman would die of cold or malnutricion before he reached 10. Thank god the helpless bastard took his sweet time to be born.”

Ray cannot touch any eletronics, he can’t even come close without phones, computers, and tvs turning to statics, so Norman buys an illustrated book about the Red Mane Pirates for Ray to see his crew again. He know is not perfect but is the best he can offer whenever Ray expresses missing his family.

They read together. Norman occasionally teaching a new word to his ghost and Ray correcting any historical inacuracy. It’s fun.

Norman finds an illustration of an alive Ray sleeping in the mast waaay too beautiful. Ray snort at the romantized draw, disolving into laughter by how Norman failed to hide his blush.

It became a habit to read history books together and tease each other. More often then not, it lead to a history class and way to much sass on both ends.

“Wait, so there really was a world war? I heard about it from old guests but I thought they were exagerating when they called world war! And what do you mean 2? There was a second one??”

“How did miss the second one? It was HUGE, quite horribl-”

“You were not even alive when it happened.”

“Tecnically, you weren’t either Ray-”

Ray is a bit scared of how attached he got to Norman, knowing eventually the man would die. He hopes it will take a long time, and that once he had a painless death, he will become a ghost too, but he doesn’t really believe Norman will ever turn into a ghost. Ray knows not everyone that dies became a ghost. Since someone as compassionable as Emma -even if she was forced to have blood and dirty choises on her hand to survive the merciless seas- was not cursed to became a ghost, he was confident someone as kind as Norman would dissapear from Ray’s afterlife once he died too.

More of this AU here

And since you reached the end of this text wall. You can have this bonus Norman being awkward/excited about their growing friendship.

#norray #the promised neverland #tpn norman #tpn ray #norray week #norrayweek #i still can't draw adult BUT THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT #i don't know much about history so guyhiluojikço #NORMAN SLEEPING POSE WAS SO HARD TO DRAW HOLY SHI-#but i love this au #yiouhoji freaking ship week anxiety tho

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y0itsbri · 3 years

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gallavich week 2021 - day 2 - fantasy au w/ inspo from this wonderful prompt list by @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

You're Not Getting Cold Fins Now, Are Ya?

word count: 6.3k

(click on art for better quality)

Mickey truly enjoyed being a fisherman. He liked the solitude that came with the job -- no one on his ass trying to tell him what to do or that what he's doing was wrong when it definitely wasn't. He was always a resourceful little bastard, and his confidence at sea was not unwarranted. He knew how to do shit, and how to do shit right -- crewmates be damned. Nothing but him and the water, just the way he liked it.

He often sold his fish at the market in the small coastal town where he and his sister, Mandy, reside. Her charisma luring customers to their stand, promising the best of the best -- and it wasn't even a lie anymore. Lately, Mickey's produce was the freshest and somehow the most beautiful, catching somewhat exotic fish with vibrant colors that none of the other fishermen were able to attract. Mandy had once trapped him in the corner, demanding answers to questions like how on earth he alone could come up with all this? She thought he was secretly a pirate, raiding other ships, stealing their best, and dumping the rest -- you can't fucking afford to go to jail again, dumbass! Time after time, he reassured her that it was just dumb fucking luck until she caved and let him go, not withholding a dubious glare. Despite what he told her, and even told himself, he was a bit suspicious. He was not a lucky man.

With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.

Mickey sat himself in the sand, reveling in the feeling of being on land again. As often as he flipped between land and sea, the difference never failed to startle him. He dragged his hands through the sand, feeling like some fancy exfoliator Mandy was always trying to get him to use. He was adamantly watching the colorful rocks bead through his fingertips. A larger stone caught in his palm. He held it up to the sun where it was peeking out from behind the clouds. At first glance, it looked like any other stone -- kind of a boring sea foam color, but in the sun, it sparkled like green embers. He rested the stone atop his knee and turned his attention to a bird squawking from the rocks. Noisy fucker. He furrowed his eyebrows wondering what could have happened for the bird to cause such a fuss. Stuck in his tangle of thoughts and oblivious to the world, a wave swept over him -- even above his overalls.

Mickey leapt up in surprise, "Motherfuck-!" In all his joust movements, he managed his lose the stone... and his dignity. He didn't have a spare change of clothes on his boat because it was supposed to be a short trip. He didn't plan on falling asleep and ending up on an island god-knows-where. So there he sat, pouting, in just his boxers and hat while he let the remainder of his clothes air dry with what little sun there was. He could've sworn he heard someone laughing at him -- giggling, even. He glared towards the squawking bird before determining it was his own paranoia. Mandy had him do all that therapy shit awhile back, so he knows how he can get sometimes and how it's a 'trauma response' or some bullshit that actually made a hell of a lot of sense now that he thought about it.

He pulled out an orange from the front pocket of his overalls, still half damp in the sand. He nibbled on it, tossing his peels as far into the tide as he could, watching it float... float... disappear. Whatever creature was down there must really fuckin' like oranges. It was quick, but exciting none-the-less. Mickey no longer felt sluggish like his impromptu nap that landed him on this island might have suggested. He felt alive.

The sun placement told him that it was time to head back if he had any chance of making it back to the coast before sundown. Fuck! His fish! He picked up his clothes and half-jogged half-stumbled back to his boat, expecting the fish he had caught earlier in the day to have gotten tainted by now. He shoved his legs into his mostly-dry overalls and waded out to his boat. To his surprise, the fish looked good -- almost better than when he caught them.

Now Mickey may not be the most observant, but even he knew something was a little suspicious (something a little fishy is going on here🤔). If he didn't know then, he definitely knew when he turned to see the green ember stone -- his stone -- resting on top of his ice box. The fuck? He picked up the stone, smoothing over it's edges with his thumb, leaving a sparkling trail where his fingers had just touched. So it wasn't just from the sunlight, interesting. He secured the rock inside the zipper pocket on his overalls, then double checking to make sure it was still there. Whatever force on his side might be into second chances, but he didn't want to test his new luck with third chances.

He really had to get going now. He gave the island a once over as he pulled out his map, subtly marking his new uncharted oasis. This was something else.

Since his initial discovery, Mickey had come back to the island several times, and all the more prepared. He kept spare clothes on him at all times now, in case the tide one again decided to have a personal vendetta against him and his overalls -- which of course it had. He also brought more beef jerky, tools, and a tent. He was determined to see more than just the coast the next time he returned.

He had told Mandy that he was going to stop at another port for the night so as not to wait up for him that evening, which wasn't unheard of. With the amount of overnight stays on his isolated island as of lately, however, Mandy thought he had a secret lover a few ports over, teasing and making kissy faces at him whenever she could. "Who is she, Mick? Oh, c'mon, I tell you about my hookups!" "Yeah, and I wish you fuckin' didn't." "Whatever, anyways, she's gotta have a name. Wait! Oh my god! He? Is it a guy? Mickey!" "Mandy, no." She could be annoying as hell when she wanted to, but she mostly knew when to stop.

As much as Mickey denied a secret lover, there was definitely a secret something, but he couldn't place his finger on exactly what it was. He knew there was like the red-ish, orange-ish glow that flickered beneath the surface of the water. And he knew there was feelings. Which sounded weird as hell -- even to himself. He should have just played along with Mandy's hookup in another port theory. Hell, he should find a hookup in another port. That would be a lot simpler than whatever this was. But he just couldn't get himself to stay away from this mystical island. His fish business was doing better than ever, so he had no real excuse to stay away.

He had managed to map out the geography and topography of the island after a few visits -- Mickey knew his shit. No one lived on this island. It looked like no one has ever lived on this island. It was a small, and it was beautiful, but he still couldn't find the source of whatever force drew him here -- at least when he was actively searching for it. He continued throwing his orange peels in the ocean to be devoured by his... friend? He tried to throw his apple cores in, but his creature was apparently not a fan. He didn't blame them, to be honest.

He began to talk to himself and even sing to himself more and more on the island. He thought he may have heard the laughter again, and even some off-key humming or whistles along to his tunes. Mickey didn't even care if it was the paranoia or if he was having some odd hallucination at this point. He just felt entirely too good.

Which is why he didn't see it coming. If he hadn't been so distracted by this siren-like callings, he would have noticed the storm coming. He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, damnit. He knew his shit! Which is why he knew that he could secure the boat as best as humanly possible, and it still wouldn't survive the storm surge unscathed. He hoped that whatever force looking out for him would look out for his boat. He said a quick prayer -- and he wasn't religious by any means -- as he double checked to make sure he had his 'lucky' stone, his backpack, and his map, then hiked inland where he knew there was a cave for shelter.

He had escaped the start of the downpour, but only barely. The dark clouds loomed overhead, chasing out any hopes of a light, easy rain. Mickey huddled against the inner wall of the cave, nibbling at one of his jerky strips, and cursing the lack of cell phone signal on this fucking island that doesn't even fucking exist according to any map he's ever fucking seen. To say he was having a bad day was an understatement. He couldn't do much but wait, and he quickly fell asleep to the pitter patter of the water dripping outside the cave.

He awoke to a sharp burning on his chest. The fuck?! His so-called 'lucky' stone was hot. And glowing. And so was most of the other rocks in the cave. Now this was definitely something. The stones obviously did not want him to stay still as they grew hotter and glowed brighter, but this time alternating and lighting up a path down a miniscule stream he hadn't noticed before. The storm had long stopped, and he hoped these bewitched stones would at least lead him to the shore so he can check on whatever remains of his boat.

Mickey followed the path to the shore, luckily, but more towards the rocks that he noticed on his first visit. He hardly saw the rocks now as he was drawn to a heap of familiar orange-ish red-ish laid up on shore. He fully expected it to disappear again so he refused to even blink, inching closer. It was alive -- for sure -- that was good, but it was battered from the storm. It looked scaley... but also had hair? It grunted and rolled over. Yup. That was a man. But also a fish.

Mickey thought his hallucination were playing entirely too many games on him now but he physically could not bring himself to turn away, as much as he swore he wanted to. He wanted out. He was insane. That was the only explanation, because obviously mermaids weren't real. He was sleeping, he had to be. He would wake up in his bed next door to Mandy's and all of this would go away. Hell, maybe the whole island was in his dreams. Maybe he was trapped in a very realistic coma. He looked around for something to wake him the fuck up when he heard the creature groan again.

Fuuuuuck, now Mickey was involved. The tide had pulled back far enough that left the creature stranded on the land. The stone grew hotter yet against his chest. "Alright, alright, I fuckin' got it, thank you," he grumbled. The creature turned it's startled head towards his. They locked eyes -- green embers. Of course.

"It's you, isn't it? All this time?" Mickey asked as the creature weakly tried to hide his face. Mickey didn't know why. It was a beautiful face, somehow covered in freckles that sparkled.

"Nah, man, it's cool, right? We've been having fun, eating oranges and shit?"

The creature unburied its head and quietly whistled one of Mickey's favorite songs, earning a chuckle out of Mickey as he awkwardly lifted the half-man half-fish in some semblance of a firefighter carry. Mickey expected the creature to be slick and cold, but he was soft and warm. Odd, but not unpleasant. They were almost to the water now.

"Yeah, Rain on Me by Ariana Grande and Lady Gaga. Fuckin' banger. Don't tell my fuckin' sister about this. She'd never let me live this down."

The red-headed creature tilted its head in confusion.

"Lady Gaga? Ya know, Mother Monster?"

He seemed to startle at the word 'monster' as he wiggled, escaping Mickey's grip into the water, disappearing into the dark sea. Frowning, in a last attempt at communication.

Mickey wasn't having it. Nah. The creature had been luring him for weeks. Hanging out with him for weeks. Even called out to him with some fuckin' moon stone type things. And now it wanted to disappear? He didn't fucking get it. He kept talking to himself as he paced along the shore.

"You're not getting cold fins now, are you?" Mickey teased, "Wait, fuck, is that offensive? Fuck, I'm sorry, please just come back."

He was acting fucking pathetic. He buried his face in his hands. Fuck. His brain was fucked. His life was fucked. His boat was fucked. His boat.

Mickey nearly tripped as he stumbled back to his boat. Or more like where he docked his boat. All that remained was his anchor. The rest had been mangled and scattered along the shore. He could probably get it fixed eventually since he had the little foresight to keep his tools safe in his backpack. But until then, he was stuck on an island, that apparently didn't exist, with a companion, who apparently didn't want to be perceived, and a dwindling supply of beef jerky. Great.

It had been a depressing night. Without Mandy's overenthusiastic presence or his new friend's feel-good aura, Mickey was especially pessimistic. He hardly got any sleep, his brain racking all the ways he could possibly fix his boat. Mickey Milkovich knew his shit, but he was beginning to feel a little doomed. He took out his 'unlucky' stone from it's secure pocket, fidgeting with it like he does when he's nervous. The thing was cold (one could say it was stone cold😎).

Feeling hopeless, he stormed back to the shore, tossing his last orange into the water, intent on yelling at the water until he died a peaceful death.

"C'mon, man," his voice came out sounding more like pleading than yelling, but what can you do? "I don't give a fuck if you're a man or a fish. I need you to help me fix my fucking boat! You got me into this mess, you get me out of it!"

He collapsed in the moonlight. He was absolutely not on the verge of crying. He was focusing on his breathing so intently that he barely heard his voice.

Holy fuck, though. He finally got why the legends always referred to mermaids as sirens. He would follow this voice anywhere. It was as disturbing as it was comforting.

Mickey was knocked out of his trance as his previously-tossed orange rolled to a stop at his feet.

"I said, I'm sorry." The siren's red hair poked out of the ocean several feet in front of him. Mickey continued to stare. How the fuck did this motherfucker's freckles glow brighter than the stars in the sky above them?

"I never meant to cause you harm. Swear. I even brought you the best fish I could find. My family lectured me about cannibalism or some shit, but I just wanted any excuse to see you again."

Mickey stared in awe. The creature's voice ringing through his ears prettier than any choir he had ever heard. He had got to get himself together. He was supposed to be mad. Right!

"What about my fuckin' boat? You realize I actually have to leave this place eventually, right, Red?" Maybe Mickey was being a bit harsh considering he was basically in the middle of some magical doomsday. But he was still ridiculously frustrated at his current situation.

"Hmm," the creature considered, "my name is Ian." Ian. Ian. Ian. The name chimed through his head. "And I was thinking about your boat. I tried to save it before it was too late, but I ended up too close to the shore, and the tide was ridiculous, and hence I got stranded and we got off to the wrong... fin." Ian gave Mickey a dumbass smirk, clearly proud of himself.

Okay, it did ease the tension, Mickey would give him that. Mickey was silent for a bit too long again.

"And what is your name?" Ian mused, "I've got to stop calling you That-One-Hot-Fisherman in my head."

Mickey nearly choked, and tried to cover it up by rubbing his hand against his lips, "Mikhailo." He had no idea why he was compelled to share his real name. He hadn't used that name in years -- only liking it from the sound of his mother's mouth. He corrected himself, "Well, it's Mickey. That's what I go by."

"Okay, well, Mickey Mikhailo, shall we get started on rebuilding your boat now or do you want to wait until morning?" Ian looked both devious and sincere. It was maddeningly confusing.

If Mickey swooned at the way a fucking fish said his name, that was nobody's business. But he couldn't deny he was exhausted. His stone was warm against his chest, comfortingly so, not hot like before. He managed to mumbled out a "in the morning" before falling into the peaceful sleep he had been so desperately craving.

Mickey awoke to sunshine in his face and a bird pecking at his thigh -- the pocket where his final jerky stick remained.

"Fuck off you fucking fuck!" He shooed haphazardly while rubbing fucking literal sand out of his eyes. God, what a nightmare.

"I see someone's not a morning person," teased an orange blob from the water. Mickey rubbed his eyes again. Right. Ian.

"Fuck off, fish genius over there."

"That's not any way to treat your only chance of getting off the island anytime soon," Ian pouted.

Fish genius had a point.

"Sorry," Mickey grumbled. He was never one for apologies, but man did he need to stay on this creature's good side. But, he was all good sides as far as Mickey was concerned. In the daylight, he could see how Ian's orange hair curled into little rings when it air dried. It looked real fuckin' soft. He couldn't remember if he had the chance to touch it yesterday on their fucking rescue mission. He needed to distract himself before he said something he regretted. He was not about to be flirting with a fish. He wasn't!

"Ya got any more oranges you can toss my way? Fuckin' starving."

Ian pointed at the one sandy orange a few feet from where Mickey had slept, "Just yours that you tried to hit me with, thank you very much."

"You like the peels, though." Mickey said as he tossed a piece into the ocean, floating several yards away from where Ian's head bobbed out of the water.

That took Ian aback, "Damn, I thought I was slicker than that."

"Not that slick, man."

"Hmm." Ian briefly considered before speeding over to the peel and devouring it quickly, "I can get you some sea food -- as your people say."

"Ain't that basically illegal for you, Red? Ain't you technically sea food?" Mickey musing, tossing another piece of his orange peel into the water.

Ian rolled his eyes. "I-an." He sounded it out slowly. "But I mean, circle of life and all that." He chased the orange peel, twisting it in his fingertips, awaiting Mickey's response.

"Nah, it's cool, don't worry about it, I-an. I don't really want any part in your whole fucked up moral dilemma situation. Got enough of those myself."

Mickey avoided Ian's attempt at eye contact, and Ian didn't push the conversation any further. He seemed tentative again. Mickey didn't want to lose him again.

"So... boat stuff?" Mickey huffed as he stood up, turning to his mangled beauty.

"Yeah," Ian did that dumbass smirk again that had Mickey fucking blushing, "Boat stuff."

Ian explained that he had spent most of the night gathering the parts that he could find in the water, and even some special mud and sea weed looking things that he promised would hold it together if Mickey's tools couldn't. Mickey took offense to the lack of faith Ian had in his skills, but he eventually agreed that it was at least somewhat warranted given their current predicament.

Mickey spent the morning gathering boat parts from land, and by midday, he felt hopeful. It was a 'finding treasure in the trash' kind of moment, but it was enough for now.

Ian and Mickey had fell into idle conversations as Mickey worked to restore his boat and Ian gazed onward, bobbing in the waves.

"So, you have a sister named Mandy?" Ian asked after a slice of silent had washed over them.

"What, are you a psychic, too?" Mickey laughed nervously under his breath.

Ian rolled his eyes like that was the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "No, smartass, I'm a good listener." He paused. "You talk about her a lot."

"Wasn't sure if you were real or if I was crazy." Was all Mickey managed to respond. Ian was really more of the conversation carrier and neither of them seemed to mind.

"Do you have any other family or friends?" Ian wondered, this time genuinely curious.

"Considering I'm talking to you right now, what do you think?"

Ian silently stared at Mickey until his watch became uncomfortable and Mickey felt the urge to continue.

"Mandy's the only one that sticks around. She actually cares about me -- fixes me dinner, drags me out to meet her friends, even makes sure I get enough sleep -- she's fuckin' crazy."

"It sounds like she loves you."

"Yeah. Dunno why."

"You're a good person, Mickey."

Mickey flashed Ian his knuckles reading 'FUCK U-UP' in faded black ink. "Yeah, I'm a real stand-up guy."

"No, I mean it." And Ian just looked so genuine that all Mickey could do was believe it for once in his goddamn life. All it took was for a fish to tell him. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

"What's your social circle look like? Couple of dolphins, maybe a crab?"

"Maybe," Ian confessed. Shit, maybe this was some real life Little Mermaid. "But I also have five siblings."

"Y'all all got bright-ass fins? Or is that just you?" Mickey still couldn't believe this was his reality right now, but shit, might as well hear about all of Ariel's siblings.

"My little sister, Debbie, she's orange like me. My mom had a theory that our colors are reflective of like our auras or something. She was always hanging around this old-as-balls sea turtle spouting off whatever nonsense he remembered. Some of it makes sense, though. My oldest sister, Fiona, is purple. Then there's my brothers -- Lip is blue, Carl is green, and Liam is yellow."

"Mandy has black hair like me. But she has a nose piercing, and I ain't getting one of those anytime soon."

Ian smiled that Mickey was even trying to draw some sort of semblance between their drastically different worlds. But it felt so natural, Mickey couldn't help it.

Mickey felt his lucky stone grow warm, again. Ian wasn't in any trouble, though. He was literally right fuckin' here. And he was happy. Mickey was happy, too.

By nightfall, they had called it quits. Mickey had ended up using some of Ian's 'special' tools, earning a fair amount of teasing from Ian himself. Whatever. The red-head had been protecting him so far. He trusted him -- even if that thought was terrifying. The mud would dry in the moonlight, and Ian assured Mickey that he would be set by morning.

Mickey was fucking hungry after a long day's work. It was high tide and Ian had something different in mind.

"Now that we're talking," Ian started. "I've been wanting to show you this."

Mickey waited for further instructions.

"Follow the stones, I'll meet you there, promise."

Mickey trusted the fucker despite his innate inability to trust anyone else, so he followed the stones into the thick of the forest. He knew the island. He had mapped the thing. He didn't know what Ian could possibly want to show him that he hadn't already seen.

The path stopped glowing near the bottom of a cliff. He knew about the cliff. But what he didn't know was that the cliff was a waterfall.

"Woah."

"Pretty cool, huh? Only happens with lots of rain."

Ian had prepared them a fish dinner set on another rocky edge, like the one on the other side of the island.

"Ian. You're a fish. This ain't right."

"First of all, I'm a mammal. Second, it's fine. They tell me when they're ready to die so I have a clear conscious as far as I'm concerned."

"Dude. I knew this was fucked up, but that is fucked up."

"Dude," Ian mocked him, "We're in the middle of the fucking ocean. Do you have any better ideas, or are you just gonna be all pissy? Least you can do is eat with me."

Mickey's jerky supply was officially gone. Fish genius had another point.

Mickey wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Ian's dinner was even better than Mandy's were.

Morning came and Mickey found himself not wanting to leave. Of course, he knew he had to, so he would.

"So, Red, I guess this is goodbye?"

"Only for now. You'll be back." Ian winked. Mickey knew he would.

"This is stupid, but like, you can't go back with me? Like, we make a pretty good team."

Mickey was visibly uncomfortable at his moment of vulnerability, and Ian took pity on him with a gentle smile. "Unless I want to get hunted, I'm better off here. It's safer."

"Right, right." That made sense. Mickey didn't even want to think about the possibility of Ian getting hurt. There had been rumors about mermaids in the area, but he had always assumed them to be tall tales. He knew enough of the fishermen were heavy drinkers and supposed that played a factor in their truth-telling.

"My mother is on land now, but she wouldn't choose to help me. Learned that the hard way."

Mickey frowned. He knew what it was like to have a parent that would trade you for literally anything else. But he was more curious about another part of Ian's story.

"What do you mean your mom is on land? Like she was captured or something?"

"No, nothing like that. More like she's got two legs that she uses to chase whatever thrilling experience she can. Another one of her wacky theories was that her 'true love's kiss' gave her the ability to shapeshift between her land and water forms whenever she wanted."

"Huh."

"All my siblings think she's crazy. The idea was tempting enough for awhile, though. Fiona had gotten real close to this sailor named Steve. He promised her the world and she believed him. But their bond wasn't enough to shift. Fiona was sure he was her soulmate. He still comes around sometimes. And then there's Debbie, who almost got killed trying to woo some girl at the port. I think my mother is just a hopeless romantic. But hope can be dangerous sometimes."

Mickey listened on to this story that sounded more like a children's bedtime story -- all this princess nonsense about a true love's kiss made him think that maybe this red-head was Ariel. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the worried look in Ian's eyes.

"Well whatever it is, she sounds pretty lucky."

Ian smiled softly, sadly. "Yeah."

"Hey," Mickey said gently. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, Mickey sailed his patchwork boat back to whatever wrath Mandy was about to unleash on him.

The door creaked as Mickey made his way into the apartment he shares with his sister. He was nearly tackled on sight.

"Mickey, what the fuck!" Mandy punched his shoulder before crushing him into another hug. "I was so worried about you, you little shit!" "Ow! Jesus, I'm alive. Would you calm your tits?!"

Mandy gave him one more punch for good measure, "Where the fuck have you been? Three days, Mikhailo Aleksandr, three days! Tell me you didn't get that bitch up at the other port pregnant. I'm not taking in anymore rug rats."

"Bad storm. Boat wreck. And ya know what," Mickey threw his hands into the air, "I wish I would have got someone pregnant. Instead, I was stranded at sea, so maybe be a little bit nicer to me?"

"Fuck." She slumped a bit, "How did you manage to get back? Did you call one of your pirate buddies?"

"Jesus Christ, Mandy. I'm not a pirate -- even though they are dope as fuck, by the way. I just so happen to have a few brain cells -- something you don't know anything about."

Mandy rolled her eyes, "Competent enough to sail straight into a storm, huh?

Mickey flipped her off, "Good to be home, sis."

Mandy smiled, "C'mon, I'll make you some real food. I'm sick just thinking about you surviving off fuckin' jerky for half a week."

-- Mickey picked up a couple shifts at Mandy's bar the next week and a half to make up for three days of lost produce and another week for the time it took to properly fix his boat. He trusted Ian's magic mud well enough, but he didn't want to push his luck.

He wore short sleeve button-ups when he was bartending. He didn't have the comfortable luxury of built in inner pockets like with his fishing overalls, so he sewed his own. He couldn't stand the idea of not having his lucky stone close to his heart.

One night while he was slinging drinks, he mind at sea, he felt the stone grow hot and hotter. Fuck! It nearly burned his skin. He took it out from its pocket tossing it back and forth between his hands. It was glowing again. He felt nauseous. This had to mean Ian was in danger, right? Like last time in the cave? He wasn't on the island. He didn't have some magic pathway leading him exactly where he needed to go. What if he didn't get there in time?

He must have looked as insane as he felt because he felt a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Mick, take a fifteen."

"Got it." Mickey headed out back. Mandy would assume he was just having a smoke. But he ran. He hoped to hell that he was on the right track. The stone glowed brighter so he took that as a good sign.

He was out of breath as he rounded the corner and ended up at the docks. The stone's glow died down and it grew cold. Something was very wrong. What the fuck?

"Ian!" He probably looked like a psychopath screaming at the sea. Maybe he wasn't far from it.

This was the dock his boat was usually parked at. He was on his way to his old spot. Maybe--

A flash of red caught his eye in the dark water. No fish that red was ever this close to shore. His stomach crumbled. Oh my God, Ian.

Mickey dropped to ground, trying to get a better look at what was wrong. Wrapped in fishing nets was Ian, his skin a sickly shade of blue that wasn't from the moonlight.

Mickey made quick work of the fishing net with his pocket knife, careful not to cut Ian's slightly cold body. Was he too late? He couldn't be too late. He was here now. Everything would be fine.

Tapping into the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Mickey heaved Ian's large body onto the dock planks. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing at least.

"Ian. Ian, look at me. You're safe now, okay?" Mickey turned around, making sure he was alone. Luckily, no one was out at the water this time of night. Mickey pulled Ian's head into his lap and brushed his fingers through Ian's hair. Fuckin' finally. It was soft. So soft. "Hey, Red, wanna hook me up with whatever conditioner you got under the sea?" He laughed at himself to keep from crying.

Ian murmured something, lips barely parting.

Mickey stopped his caresses, "What was that, Mumbles?"

"Said you're a dumbass." Ian repeated. It was quiet, but his sass rang through. He was alive alright.

"I know." Mickey smiled for real this time. He placed a gentle kiss on Ian's forehead near his hairline. Ian's eyes fluttered open as they held each others' gaze.

They were distracted when Mickey's stone glowed bright again. Probably brighter than it has ever been before. The color shifted from it's usual green ember to resemble more of an icy blue. The boys watched as it began to shake on the ground -- where Mickey had dropped it when he spotted Ian's body. The stone continued to vibrate violently until it burst. Green and blue specks of light joining the stars in the sky above them. Mickey was so entranced by the light that he didn't notice when something else began to shift.

Ian's shimmering red-orange tail was replaced by two, long, freckled legs. Ian's eyes grew wide as he hit Mickey's arm.

"The fuck you hitting me for -- holy shit."

"Maybe my mom wasn't crazy."

"Maybe not." Mickey traced Ian's new legs with his fingertips. "How do you feel? Pretty big change, champ."

"It feels right... which is weird." Ian concluded after a moment, wiggling his toes.

"You're weird, so it makes sense." Mickey nodded, like it was obvious.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

Mickey cocked his head as his lips upturned into a smirk, "Make me."

Mickey had expected Ian to still be chilled from the water, but he wasn't. He was warm and soft. So there they stayed, tightly wrapped in each others' arms under the dancing green-blue stars and the sound of gentle waves knocking into boats.

It was safe to say that Mickey had entirely forgot about returning to his shift at the bar that night. They had decided to sneak Ian into Mickey's room before the fishermen got their early start on the day ay the docks. It was still dark when they slowly opened his apartment's front door, knocking into each other and trying not to laugh at their bizarre situation.

Mandy flicked on the larger kitchen light, ready to give her brother an ear-full for leaving her alone to serve the bar creeps all night when she noticed he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a tall, gorgeous, red-headed man, who appeared to only have eyes for her brother, not even noticing her presence.

"I thought you said you didn't have any bitches?" Mandy said, hoping to burst them out of their little bubble.

Mickey mumbled a quiet fuck under his breath. And surprisingly, Ian was the first to speak up, "Uh, you must be Mandy? I'm Ian. I'm uh- just visiting town."

"Mhm, whatever you say. Mick, next time, at least tell me when you're ditching work for a booty call, yeah?" She said after an appreciative glance Ian's way, bumping Mickey's hip as she walked past them to her room down the hall.

"Oh, work. Yeah, my bad." Mickey had genuinely forgot. Something about soulmates kind of clouding his judgement.

"Pasta's on the stove -- goodnight, dumbass and company!" She called before slamming her door closed.

Ian erupted into a fistful of giggles, "So much for sneaking in, huh?"

"Whatever, do you want some pasta, or are you sticking straight to cannibalism and orange peels?" Mickey teased.

"I'll have whatever you're having, stud." Ian squeezed the back of Mickey's neck.

After their late night/ early morning pasta, they had curled up in Mickey's bed, facing each other in silence, their eyes saying all the words that they didn't need to say out loud. Until-

"Fuck!" Ian's abrupt comment startled Mickey, even causing a hitch in Mandy's snoring in the next room over. Softer, he continued, "Your lucky stone, Mick. It's gone." He looked sad. He wanted to fix it.

Mickey brought his hand up to Ian's cheek, brushing it softly. "I don't need it, man. I have you."

Ian covered Mickey's hand with his own, then brought their hands to his lips, kissing each of Mickey's tattooed knuckles gently, like they held the secrets of the universe. Mickey smiled.

"I am the luckiest man in the world." And he was.

#i’m not a writer but i wrote this #i'm really excited about this one tbh. it's my first like true au and !! mermaid !!#also title is from ariel lmao #shameless #gw2021 #ian gallagher #my posts #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless au #gallavich au #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021day2

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hongism · 4 years

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mists of celeste ➻ 26.5

➻ pairing: this chapter centers around yeosang x wooyoung ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut, fluff ➻ Word Count: 3.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part 1.5

“Hey, did you take my green blanket?”

“Hm?”

“My green blanket! The one Jongho got me for my last birthday?” Wooyoung puffs his cheeks full of air when his companion merely squints at the ceiling rather than responding. “You’re using it right now, aren’t you? Under the comforter? You just took my blanket, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yeosang hums, pulling the sheets up closer to his chin. Wooyoung strains to see if there’s a flash of green underneath, but he isn’t able to catch anything at this angle. “Besides, what good are birthday presents for someone who doesn’t even have a birthday?”

Wooyoung can’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. The question is far from offensive or harsh; Yeosang tends to be blunt more than anything else, and he does have a valid point in the question since Wooyoung truly has no recollection of when his birthday is. Although it was Yeosang’s idea to claim his birthday as the day he was set free. The warmth in Yeosang’s eyes when he suggested that was far too enticing to say no to, so Wooyoung agreed without batting an eye.

“You are a terrible liar, Kang Yeosang,” he hisses out, edging closer to the bed. Yeosang lifts a brow but doesn’t budge.

“I don’t lie.”

“You omit the truth, and that’s the same as lying.” Wooyoung lifts a finger to jab it in the blond’s direction, unamused when the other cracks a small knowing smile.

“How so?” He inquires nonetheless. The teasing gleam to his gaze doesn’t let up for a second.

“You know how so!” Wooyoung protests quickly. He pulls himself further onto the bed, tossing all his weight onto Yeosang’s torso, and the other man releases a groan from the sudden pressure. “I hope you pass out, you thief.”

“God, have you gained weight? You seem heavier than usual.”

“Heavier than usual? Heavier than usual! Why you little–” Wooyoung reaches behind Yeosang’s head and snatches up a pillow before smacking it hard against the Elitist’s face. Yeosang manages to bring his arms up in time to block a majority of the impact, but Wooyoung’s superior position allows him to work around his arms and hit him on the crown of his head. “I hope that feels heavier than usual too!”

Yeosang huffs out a laugh in response. He snatches the pillow from Wooyoung’s hands when Wooyoung next brings the cushion down, pushing it to the side and grabbing hold of his wrists with such ease that Wooyoung’s heart practically jumps in his chest. Yeosang twists his body despite being caught under the sheets, and all of a sudden Wooyoung is the one being pinned to the bed, red rushing up his neck at the intimacy of the position.

“H-Hey,” he mutters as he glances away from Yeosang’s prying gaze.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Woo.”

“I know, I was just teasing you!” Wooyoung stretches his grin, cheeks scrunching up as he beams at Yeosang without a care in the world. The Elitist doesn’t seem pleased with his quick response though and continues his train of thought a moment later.

“You could afford to put on a bit more weight at that. And we could spend more time in the training room if you’d like. I’d be hap–”

“Oh hush, you.” Wooyoung blows air into Yeosang’s face to shut him up, and the tactic works out rather well for him seeing as Yeosang blinks against the assault with confusion painting his features. “Unlike you, my stomach was never fit for a prince’s diet or a royal meal plan. But I can eat a bit more if that would make you happy!”

“I like you just the way you are,” Yeosang hums in response. He speaks the words so softly that Wooyoung hardly catches them but when he does, the flush on his cheeks deepens to a scarlet.

“You can’t tease me about my weight, tell me that it wouldn’t hurt to put on a few pounds, then say something like that,” he grumbles under his breath, shoving a hand against Yeosang’s shoulder. The attack is half-hearted at best, and Yeosang laughs it off without too much care.

The Elitist lets the sound fade into silence, leaving his gaze to trace over every millimeter of Wooyoung’s features. The heat in his state is not lustful or seeking anything more than the gentle peace hanging in the air between them, but Wooyoung still finds himself flustered more than anything else.

“What are you doing that for?” Wooyoung wriggles a bit under Yeosang’s weight. He doesn’t manage to budge the man even an inch, completely stuck under both his grasp and gaze.

“Let me admire my lover in peace.”

Wooyoung squeals at the nonchalant attitude Yeosang holds and the way he says the words like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. He frees one hand from Yeosang’s hold and snatches up the same pillow from before, sending it cascading into the side of Yeosang’s head.

“Excuse me, wh—”

“You’re excused!” Wooyoung interrupts before smacking Yeosang once more for good measure. Yeosang huffs and rolls off Wooyoung to escape the relentless attacks with the pillow, not bothering to fight back. As he slips out of the way, Wooyoung catches a flash of green under the black comforter. “You did steal my blanket!”

“Is that truly what you’re worried about right now?” Yeosang slips off the bed to stand upright, hands coming to rest on his hips as he blinks down at Wooyoung.

“Yes because you lied to me!”

“All I said was that I didn’t know what you were talking about.”

Wooyoung pulls himself into a sitting position and inches ever closer to where Yeosang stands by the edge of the bed. He pouts out his lower lip as far as he can in a desperate attempt to win the man over but it is to no avail because Yeosang just arches a brow and smiles a little.

“You look so cute when you act hurt.”

“Make it up to me and I won’t be hurt,�� Wooyoung pleas with wide eyes. Yeosang slips a finger under his chin and lifts him up a bit more. Wooyoung follows the motion but Yeosang dips away at the last second, lips merely ghosting over his, and the younger of the two gasps at the audacity of the other’s teasing. “You are absolutely cruel!”

“I can’t help myself when you look as cute as you do.” Yeosang begins to pull back, but Wooyoung isn’t about to let him get away with it this time, so he reaches up to snag the man by the collar, yanking him back down so hard that Yeosang has to grip the mattress to keep from crushing Wooyoung.

“Do it properly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I will find someone who can do it prope–” Pressure invades Wooyoung’s mouth, and he doesn’t get the chance to finish that train of thought thanks to Yeosang’s lips crashing into his. Wooyoung sighs into the kiss, a content smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and sits back to let Yeosang do most of the work. Yeosang doesn’t stay long, releasing Wooyoung’s lips with a wet pop and harsh glare that doesn’t scare Wooyoung in the slightest. Huffing out a laugh, the dark-haired man brings a thumb to his lips and wipes at the excesses saliva Yeosang left there. “Better.”

It is still difficult to ignore the dull pain that blossoms in his chest when his lips part from Yeosang’s, but he has at least gotten better at not letting that pain shine through his features or show in the slightest. Whether Yeosang doesn’t notice or he is merely pretending to ignore it, Wooyoung does not know, but he does not particularly care either. Not talking about it saves them both from further pain that neither of them wants.

“I put up with too much of your teasing.” Yeosang readjusts his tunic, pulling the white silk back into its original resting place. Even with all the man’s insistence that he hates every part of his past, he sure does wear many regal and fancy clothes. Not that Wooyoung is complaining in the slightest because Yeosang just looks so pretty: blond hair that falls in soft waves around his face just long enough to be pulled back into the smallest ponytail, dark brown eyes with gold flecks throughout them, that precious birthmark hiding beside his eye that his side bangs cover all too often. The silk regalia he always wears on casual days like these only add to that beauty. Wooyoung could spend hours sitting back like this and staring at him. “Perhaps that should be your next lesson.”

“Hm, maybe, but if I really wanted to, I would have you pinned to the bed right now. Especially with how pretty and delicate you look in that shirt.” Wooyoung grins a bit too cheekily, and Yeosang rewards him with a sharp flick to the forehead. “Ow!”

“You were asking for it.”

“You are oh so cruel and harsh, Prince Kang,” Wooyoung laments with a dramatic flair to his tone. He throws himself back onto the bed, releasing an all too fake sob as Yeosang just rolls his eyes and ignores the other’s antics.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Would you rather me call you sir? Perhaps while you have me face do–” Yeosang darts forward, clapping a hand over Wooyoung’s prattling mouth without hesitation, and he glances around the room nervously even though it is empty aside from the two of them.

“You’re too bold,” he hisses before pulling his hand back and letting Wooyoung grin happily to himself.

“I’m just trying to get to the point here! You promised to teach me more today, and I haven’t heard you breathe a word about that, so hurry up mister!”

“You and your teasing mouth have prevented me from doing so actually.” Yeosang catches Wooyoung by the chin, and he inches the man’s head up with just his index finger. Wooyoung’s smile stretches wider in defense, and the other can only manage a deep sigh as pulls away. “What is it you want to learn today? Anything particular in mind?”

Wooyoung slides himself over to the edge of the bed and tosses his legs over the edge. He taps at his chin as he thinks, trying (and failing) not to get distracted by the soft expression Yeosang wears currently.

“Um, you said – you said you had to go to lots of dances when you were younger right?”

“I did, yes,” Yeosang hums. He doesn’t try to hide the smile that overtakes his lips as Wooyoung speaks, and once again, Wooyoung finds himself slipping further into distraction.

“W-Well then, teach me to dance!” Wooyoung hops to his feet and looks Yeosang in the eye. They stand at about the same height; perhaps Wooyoung is only a centimeter shorter at best, but Yeosang would most likely say it’s more like two or three centimeters.

“We don’t have music though?” Yeosang’s voice lifts at the end of his sentence, changing the statement into a question, and Wooyoung slaps the flat of his hand down hard against Yeosang’s shoulder.

“Do we really need music? Isn’t it all about – um, I don’t know how dancing works actually.”

“Counts, Woo, it’s all about counts.”

“Okay, see! That’s not music.”

“But it’s counts related to the tempo of the music,” Yeosang hums but he slips an arm about Wooyoung’s waist nonetheless and tugs him closer. “I suppose coming up with a tempo of our own wouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Wait, which part are you teaching me?” Wooyoung inquires as Yeosang guides one of his hands up to rest near his bicep. The blond clasps the other tight in his own hand, pulling it out to the side to hang in the open air.

“The typically female part.”

“I want to learn the male part!” Wooyoung protests, fist balling around the fabric of Yeosang’s delicate shirt.

“You want me to dance to the female’s part?”

“Would it truly be the first time you haven’t taken control?” Wooyoung quips, and Yeosang’s grip on his waist tightens to a point where the younger yelps.

“Don’t think with such a dated mindset, Woo. There are many things a man can do from that position, and I would be happy to teach you those next,” Yeosang purrs, pressing his lips to the shell of Wooyoung’s ear. The younger releases some sort of noise that sounds something like a squeak and a gasp mashed together. Yeosang revels in the sound, and he tosses his head back as a bout of laughter overtakes his body. The sound is crisp and clear in a beautiful way. Wooyoung cherishes it while it lasts, knowing that the Elitist is only ever so relaxed and carefree like this when they are alone.

Yeosang nudges Wooyoung’s hand off his shoulder and catches hold of it before it can fall uselessly by his side. He pulls it to his waist in attempts to urge Wooyoung to take hold of him, and Wooyoung is quick to do so, folding his fingers around Yeosang’s lithe waist.

“You can’t expect to dance properly while standing that far away from me, Wooyoung,” Yeosang grumbles under his breath. He hooks a hand onto Wooyoung’s shoulder and tugs him forward until their chests have no space between them. Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath, stifling a smile when he sees the flush that rises up Yeosang’s neck as he tightens his grip on the man’s waist.

“Did all the princesses have the pleasure of dancing so close to you?” Wooyoung hums. His eyes remain wide and innocent, but Yeosang knows better than to believe the innocence there.

“You are the only one I would ever allow this close to me.”

Wooyoung is pleased with the response even if it catches him off-guard because he was honestly expecting another jibe from the man. The small statement has more than one meaning, and Wooyoung basks in all the possibilities, taking a moment to just absorb Yeosang’s warmth and presence.

“Alright, you don’t get to ignore my instructions just because I’m letting you lead this one time. I expect you to pay attention to every detail.”

“This one time?” Wooyoung laughs.

“I won’t let you lead again after this.”

“Oh, you’ve said that before but–”

“Think with your brain not with your dick, Jung Wooyoung!” Yeosang squeezes hard at the muscle under Wooyoung’s shirt, and he releases a yelp from the sharp pain that spreads quickly through his body.

“Okay, okay! I’m thinking with my head! And not that one!”

“Remind me why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me?” Wooyoung grins, and while Yeosang doesn’t provide a verbal response, he has one in the way Yeosang smiles before clearing his throat and standing up a bit straighter.

“Just move with me. It’s rather simple to get the hang of, but there will be a lot of stepping on toes until you get a feel for your partner.” Wooyoung’s lips don’t even part a centimeter before Yeosang sends him a pointed glare that has him snapping his lips back together with no further comment. “When my right foot moves backward, step forward with your left. We can work up to you leading the movements, but if you were in full control, you would push against my hand to signal that you’re taking a step forward.”

Yeosang’s right leg slips away from Wooyoung’s left one, and he chases after him, taking a hasty step forward and hitting the tip of Yeosang’s steel-toed boot. Wooyoung backtracks immediately and tugs back, but the blond keeps him firmly planted to the spot.

“Easy, Woo… move a bit slower than that. It’s not a race; it’s a dance. It’s supposed to be slow and rhythmic.”

Wooyoung lets Yeosang guide his next steps, blindly following them without focusing on any of the words coming from his lips. They sway to an inaudible beat, a song only the two of them can hear, an unspoken melody that holds them to each other. As it turns out, Yeosang doesn’t need to explain anything because Wooyoung’s body picks up on the guidance within minutes.

“I think you got it,” Yeosang whispers eventually, and neither man is sure how long they’ve been dancing. They don’t pull away though; instead, Yeosang slips his hand free of Wooyoung’s and moves it up to his other shoulder. Slowly but surely, he intertwines his fingers behind Wooyoung’s neck. Wooyoung takes it as a sign to drop his hand to Yeosang’s waist, and he mimics the position with a faint smile. Yeosang arches his back against the touch. He’s in the middle of a laugh when Wooyoung drops his forehead atop the other man’s, eliciting a quiet gasp from him that devolves into a huff of laughter again less than a second later. “We aren’t even dancing anymore.”

“Do we need to be?” Wooyoung lets his eyes flutter shut. Every sense is so full of Yeosang that it’s almost overwhelming: the heat of his warm skin under the silk, the soft sounds of his breathing and slightly lisped tone, the smell of that goddamn cologne someone bought for him some time ago that Wooyoung adores so much, Wooyoung can even still taste Yeosang on his lips from their earlier kiss. And when he opens his eyes once more, there Yeosang stands before him – real, living, able to be seen and held and cherished.

Too often do those dreams come, the ones where Yeosang remains out of reach or broken and hurt and dying before Wooyoung’s eyes but he can’t do a thing to stop it. They come in a wide variety of nightmares, a plethora of troubles and hardships and pain, and yet there is only one that never arises.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Yeosang murmurs once he recognizes the gleam in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Come back to me, Woo.” He’s a bit too far gone as it is, too lost in thought and caught up in the frightening possibilities. Yeosang’s hands slip loose and fall forward to cradle Wooyoung’s face in his palms.

The one that has never awoken in his mind is the one where Yeosang is his master, his owner, the one dealing punishment after punishment, and if Wooyoung dwells on the thought for too long, he can start to hear the crack of the electric whip in his ears.

“Come back to me,” Yeosang says a bit louder this time. Something binds Wooyoung to the words, and he finds himself leaning into the warmth of Yeosang’s touch. “There we go, come back to me. Just like that…”

“’m sorry.” Wooyoung’s words are a bit slurred and broken, but he’s free of the intruding thoughts for the time being at least.

“That’s enough lessons for today, I think.” Yeosang hums as he trails a thumb over the skin of Wooyoung’s cheek.

“Let’s stay like this a little while longer, please.”

“Whatever you want, Woo.”

“All I want is you,” Wooyoung whispers, slipping his head away from Yeosang’s so that he can bury his face in the man’s neck. A few of the longer strands of blond hair tickle his ear, and a shiver travels down his spine with the sensation before he settles comfortably there.

“I know.”

“I would have you for the rest of my life if you let me.”

“You know I would.” Yeosang reaches a hand up to cup the back of Wooyoung’s head. He combs through the charcoal locks there, fingernails brushing over his scalp in such a way that Wooyoung feels himself growing drowsier by the second. “We’ll see what fate has in store for us.”

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?”

“You don’t have to. I’m yours now.” Wooyoung smiles against Yeosang’s skin, and a sigh passes through his chest as Yeosang shifts to press a kiss to his hair.

“I did pretty well for myself, I suppose. Getting a prince all on my own.”

“You said that as if there was ever any doubt of me falling for you,” Yeosang laughs softly. “But I must admit… a traitorous runaway prince and an ex-slave. Fate can’t even try to tell me that—”

Wooyoung cuts the thought short, pulling up with haste to slot his lips against Yeosang’s much smoother ones. He knows the man will complain later – tell him that the more they kiss, the more painful it will get in the long run – but right now, Wooyoung just wants to appreciate every inch of Yeosang while he can. If fate wishes to deprive him of that one day, then Wooyoung doesn’t want to look back with any regrets about what they could have done or said in their time together.

For now, it’s enough. The feel of Yeosang’s lips sliding over his and returning the kiss with equal parts love and passion. The hands tangling in his hair as Wooyoung grips harder at his waist and pulls him impossibly close. He feels like he’s fifteen again in those damp and dark alleyways on Aera, shaking from the cold but oh so warm thanks to the weight of Yeosang’s words that night. He feels like he did the moment Yeosang set him free, the moment he promised that he would take care of Wooyoung. He wouldn’t let him be alone anymore, he wouldn’t let anything happen to him, and he would protect Wooyoung no matter the cost.

It’s enough, and in the back of his mind, Wooyoung thinks that it will be enough for a long time to come.

✧✧✧ a/n: okay so this!! is not specified when this interim is set, you can leave that up to your own imagination, just for something more lighthearted important and insightful on our lovely bois 🥺 i was a bit nervous about this and almost decided not to post bc it’s the most forward i’ve been with the mxm content but i am really happy with how it turned out so i hope you guys enjoy it too even if you don’t typically enjoy mxm content !! and i also listened to pov by ariana grande while writing it and that was a mistake :’)

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @okokokok123-45 @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @takitaro @vampire-jimin @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

183 notes · View notes

adrienscroissantx · 3 years

Note

I really love your miraculous padawan au, and would like to ask if you are able to post something more about it?

ive got some stuff in the works for it! but im going through major burnout, so it might be a bit before i post any art about it (sorry lol)

SOME OTHER FUN FACTS FOR IT THO?

The padawans? Thats Marinette, Nino, Alya and Adrien. Thats all well and good, but what about the rest of the miracuclass, i hear you ask?

Chloe is the child queen of Naboo (at the time the padawans are around anyway). She is later a senator, very much like Padme (except a couple years younger). She's kind of mean and not a love interest, but all is well. She's a damn good politician with a wreckless side to her. Her bodyguard/head of security, Kagami, doesn't exactly have an easy job.

Max is very Anakin-esque as in he's absolutely mad about pod racing and is also the one who works on and repairs droids. He's not a jedi though, he's an orphan they find on Tatooine. He helps them with their mission and in exchange, they rescue him. After that, he just kinda hangs around employed as one of the Archivists.

Rose is also an archivist. She was thought to be force sensitive, but it was a false alarm. So she works in the Planetary archive/library place with Max. Is friends with a lot of the other padawans though, and is pretty cool with not being a jedi. She's really into her research and working on holomaps is a dream for her. She's not much of a fighter.

Nathaniel is also an archivist. He's pretty convinced he's going to be a jedi one day, but yeesh his time is running out and its not looking good for him. He instead lives vicariously through Marinette (they're good friends). He's really just looking for his purpose in life for the moment. Its fine he's 14.

Juleka is force sensitive, as are Lila and Ivan. They, however, aren't exactly on the light side of the force. We'll see what thats all about later. ¬‿¬

Alix? Best pilot/smuggler in the galaxy, with her trusty partner Kim by her side. (they aren't meant to be a ripoff of the han solo/chewie dynamic, but alix would make such a good space pirate.) They'll smuggle whatever you want if you pay them. They're fast flyers, which is good, because they're in a lot of debt and currently on the run because the ship they use may or may not be stolen.

Sabrina? Mandalorian foundling/soldier, fucking FIGHT ME on this (you cant, this is my Au, i am a god). Luka is also, actually, and they have a very sibling-esque dynamic. (if you're asking, yes, he's a foundling. Juleka is still his sister, but she was identified as force sensitive when they were little, so she was taken away. He knows he has a sister somewhere but he doesnt know who she is or where she's gone)

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

Note

allies + eje human au headcanons

I had to look up what eje meant, which was Axis in Spanish 🌮 (there's no sombrero emoji, and I'm mad about it). This is mostly a college Human AU, but there's still some future stuff in there. Enjoy the longest list of Headcannons in one post lol

Human AU Hetalia!

Allies:

America:

Has rich parents, but doesn't tell anyone, and somehow his big house that everyone parties at doesn't give it away.

The only person who knows is Japan, and that's specifically because Japan's dad works for America's dad.

Is a college student, hoping to go for some kind of music degree.

A first year.

Black T-shirt and jeans. Has a plaid button up for everyday of the month, usually has it tied around his hips.

Has like, one basic tux and refuses to wear anything but converse or airwalkers.

Space nerd #1, except he's more into what's beyond our boundaries, and loves the constellations.

One of the most popular kids, and no matter how hard you try he's not easy to hate.

Gives off dumb college kid energy even though he's one of the A+ students.

His glasses are for show. It was meant to be a rebellious thing since Canada use to get bullied about his own glasses, now it's just an esthetic.

Skate boards and plays the acoustic guitar in his free time.

Jeans are usually missing the knee section.

Once set off firecrackers in a metal trash can as a school prank.

England:

Last year of college, majoring in history after failing his cooking classes.

Graphic tee central. We are unsure how many he has but he's up to 43 different shirts worn on campus.

Usually has his earbuds in, listening to punk rock.

Has an ungodly amount of bracelets. His favorite one is a black snap bracelet with little pirate skulls.

Was practically raised by his older brothers.

Lives alone, but is secretly an amazing writer.

Has a Tumblr blog he writes spooky stuff on.

Top of his class, but can be a dummy if he's put on the spot.

France:

No one is sure how he's been allowed to take nothing but art classes. No English, or science, just art.

Is also a transfer student, he's probably the second richest thanks to daddy.

Is the school stud, despite not sleeping with a single soul, and is actually extremely nervous about dating, and is just more comfortable with playful flirting.

He wants to be a fashion designer, or Model. Mostly a Designer.

Loose shirts and tight pants.

Has a weird obsession with belt sashes.

Plays violin like a god, and is a senior.

China:

Another senior in college.

Had the unfortunate event of being in the same cooking class as England before Arthur decided to switch degrees.

Still hangs out with him and Japan.

One of the few who is taking advanced classes, and is literally everyone's tutor.

Going for a Degree in Cooking. Wants to be a head chef.

His parents are over seas, but he promised to get them to America as soon as he can.

He wears a lot of colorful shirts that is always tucked into his pants.

Most of which look like bowling shirts, but he likes to add little Chinese patches to them. Has a signature jean jacket that is overwhelmed with patches.

Has a panda beenie baby keychain, so everyone knows exactly who it belongs to when he losses his keys.

Very quick to panic, and hates to admit he's wrong.

Russia:

Third and final transfer student, along with Japan, and France.

Poor confused child is trying so hard.

He's kind of shy, and is fully aware his social akwardness creeps everyone out.

Almost cried the day America and Prussia adopted him into the cool kid circle.

His broken english is probably the biggest turn off for the people at school. It's why no one really talks to him, mostly because they can't figure out what he's saying most of the time.

Biggest sweetheart though, and is painfully smart, but do to the english thing he's stuck in the average classes, but China comes swooping in and his english gets almost fluent by his third year.

He doesn't own a single thing tech, minus a flip phone, but somehow knows all the hot keys on the computer to every program, and it's only because he's lazy about it and it's the funniest thing.

Space nerd #2 but knows more about the planets and can name every single moon, and knows the history of space discoveries by heart.

Secretly a hopeless romantic, and doesn't realize he reads England's blog.

Is pretty much a closet goth, but likes bright colors too much to be seen in all black.

Knows way to much about torture devices and learned very quickly that gets you out casted in a school setting.

Isn't upset that he doesn't have many friends, but somehow attracts all the little kids from the grade school.

He likes his northface sweater, and loose pants. But his shirts are pretty colorful, and he likes collecting shoelaces.

He spends a lot of time in the woodwork shop, creating amazing figures and such.

Canada:

I can feel the dissapointed stares of Matt not being a photographer. Welp, guess he also gets a degree in art then.

Second year, Because he skipped one year in college.

Clothing style is long sleeves and vests.

He likes feeling fancy, and owns an endless amount of beanies.

One of the few people who talks to Russia.

His locker has a snot ton of polar bear stickers that everyone stuck to it, and he loves it.

Is baby but can kick butt in the wrestling club after school.

Has a tiny white Pomeranian that he rescued from it's mother who wouldn't take care of it, probably because the puppy was the runt of the litter.

Has a Harley Davidson and it's been painted black with the aurora on it, making everyone think it was his non-existent girlfriend's or something. Now it's a running joke.

Axis:

Germany:

He's not a jock, but he's friends with them.

Military Dad.

Is usually found hanging out in the gymnasium on breaks. It's quiet and no one is going to bother him. Usually.

Senior, and so ready to get the heck out of college.

Ladies love him, but he really hates the attention, like please help him.

Style wise he's pretty basic, but really loves his camo print.

Has owned countless doggos, and only attracted so many girls the day he walked to school with a fluffy poodle that France Hijacked for the day.

Doesn't ever go to dances after the first one and everyone tried to get him drunk, to no avail.

Had out drank some of the dumber students to shut them up.

Can be mean if you persistently pester him for dumb stuff, especially if he's already said no.

He's into construction and is working on a degree in Construction Management.

Japan:

Exchange student number 3

Degree in technology is what he desires.

Style = Geek, but like a stylish geek.

Him and Canada are in photography class together.

Japan is also part of the cool kids, but only when they're about to do some dumb stunt, and need a camera man.

Doesn't mind, loves watching them make fools of themselves.

Has a rebellious streak, and tends to be a complete sass.

As soon as something seems to go bad, he gone. He's heading towards the door. Been in detention once, and that was it.

Why does everyone go to him for advice when china is literally down the hall?

Rich kid #3 and his parents are traditional and are having a crisis over their son's rebellious attitude.

Italy:

Is a first year, and is oddly enough, going for a degree in history.

Really likes antiques and old artsy stuff.

Has a few shared classes with France, and they pretty much own those classes.

Rivals America's charisma, but isn't as popular due to:

Being seen around France, and not doing dumb and entertaining crap like america.

Gets picked on a lot Because he doesn't understand you can't be nice to the Jock's girlfriend without everyone thinking your flirting, even though you just needed directions on your first day of school.

Germany is now his bodyguard and he was kind of like "???" But they get closer the longer they hangout.

Fancy shirt man, like hand me downs from his Italian father. So they're really nice, and a lot of eye melting patterns.

Gets attached to people easily, and is sensitive when he gets taken advantage of during assignments, but toughs through it because he has too.

Has two cats literally named Mona, and Lisa.

Has cried at least once at school because he's a soft guy, but he gets a thicker shell the older he gets and learns to just laugh off other people's stupidity.

Romano:

Protective older brother gooooo

Second year in school, and his first year made him want to eat brinks.

Doesn't know what degree he wants, but settled for a degree in cooking.

Shares his brother's shirts practically and it confuses everyone Because, didn't Feliciano wear that shirt last week?

Immediately thinks people don't know washing machines exist Because of this, so his sass factor is high up there.

Doesn't really have friends, and also does not care. He's a bit of a lone wolf and needed something to do.

The amount of not caring attitude contrasts his high grades and his teachers are painfully confused by it.

Will jokingly tell people to fight him at McDonald's, and almost fought someone but literally laughed, and suggested they got something to eat instead.

He's somehow, in a bizarre and unwanted sense, everyone's brother which is just...

No one understands him, but they like him, and he doesn't know why and it kind of bugs him.

He's usually in the front of the school daydreaming about, god only knows what...

Is the epitomy of the "she doesn't even go here" joke from mean girls, except he does go to that school.

Why did he need a degree? Oh yeah, Because work places don't care what kind of paper, you just need a paper.

Prussia:

Rival friendship with america, and Russia has had to step in to break up petty fights.

He's not sure why he's part of the popular kids since he's so fricken chaotic and obnoxious. Or so he thinks.

Genuinely a sweet guy in his last year, desperately wanting a degree in mathematics. Like, no one understands why mathematics until he starts pulling card tricks from his pocket that deals with it, and blows everyone's mind.

He is also head of the newspaper club.

Has the style of a teenage band member and will not apologize for it.

Has hijacked the schools speaker system to blast evanescence, which gave a huge boost to his friendship with Russia, since the big fellow shares Prussia's taste in music.

Can eat a whole ghost pepper without batting an eyelash, and this is only Headcannon and a worthy note because he became sick the day after and the whole school had "in loving memory of Gilbert's stomach" posters all over the place.

Teacher's are very much done with his harmless antics. They're noticably stupid pranks, but only to the point it's annoying.

Like he managed to make all the teacher's computer backgrounds as Brad Pitt wearing a sombrero. There's no joke, and no punchline. It's just a poorly Photoshopped sombrero?

Races his brother to school every morning, and afternoon. Cops have stopped them at least twice due to other bystanders getting freaked out.

Him and Romano don't mix well, but try to leave each other alone.

#hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia canada #hetalia germany #hetalia italy #hetalia japan #hetalia romano #hetalia prussia #hetalia #hws #hetalia world stars #aph #human au

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taliaquinn · 4 years

Text

Why Me!? Chapter 19

Authors Note: Hiya peeps and geeks, I finally published chapter 19. I hope you Peeps like it. Dont forget to reblog, comment and like!! (They make me happy)

“Think about it, why would she want to talk to you,” Chloe mumbled struggling to shake off the sleepiness “Right now she only sees you as the boy who refused to stand up for her, Against the girl that threatened her in the bathroom”.

Adrien was silent at the other end of the phone. “She told you about Lila threatening her in the bathroom?” Nonono. That was the worst thing that could happen. Now rumors are going to spread.

Chloe could only scoff in response. She knew exactly what Adrien was worrying about.

“Pfft uh yeah, Mari told us everything, gotta say Adrien I wasn't that surprised when she told us, Kagami on the other hand….”

“SHE TOLD KAGAMI!?!?!?” Adrien shouted upset. Upset at Marinette for telling everyone, even Kagami. He’s noticed that Kagamis been blowing him off and sometimes even downright refusing to talk to him at social events they both attend.

Marinette told Kagami and Chloe everything about Lila, Adrien, and Alya when she called them a week ago. Chloe's heart broke at hearing the girl sob. Kagami was enraged, in fact, that was what spurred her into starting to plot revenge. Karma would wreak havoc on everyone who dared hurt the bluenette

“Yes Adrien Kagami Knows and before you go off and get all flustered, No we haven't spread rumors or told anyone. At Marinette's insistence." She spat. Adrien didn't deserve to be protected. But poor Marinette still refused to take any drastic actions.

“Thank you, Chloe” The Model still had the nerve to thank her and ignore Marinette's kind act. She's had enough. Sitting up straighter in bed Chloe opened her laptop and started typing an email to Marinette.

“You know who else she’s been helping Adrikins?” she said in a honey-laced voice, sickeningly sweet.

This familiar voice caused a sense of growing dread in Adrien's stomach. He wasn't talking to P. M Chloe aka “Post Marinette” Chloe anymore, he was talking to the old Chloe Bourgeois, and Plagg help him if he somehow pissed her off. Swallowing down the sense of dread he asked.

“Who?”

“Nino, you remember him right? The guy you claimed was your best friend? But then again you turned your back on him, that seems to be a trend with you these days”

Nino. Of course, he remembered about Nino. Nino called him tearfully seeking comfort from his best friend after his breakup with Alya. Adrien could only weakly offer some comfort. HEY! He was dealing with his own stuff. Ladybug stole Plagg from him. He wasn’t Chat Noir anymore. Also, he didn't want to get dragged into the conflict. Plus he thought that Nino was overreacting. Alya deserved a second chance. Right?

“W-we’re still best friends” he stuttered out. Nino has Marinette's number!? That's great he can get her number from him!!!!

“Hmmph yeah sure whatever helps you sleep at night.” Chloe had the right to speak her mind. She was tired and grumpy. A deadly combination. If she had eye bags in the morning because of him she was going to block the boy,

“I'm beginning to think that you’re new bestie is Lila” she mentioned

“That's ridiculous, we're just friends”

Chloe scoffed. “Your standards for friends are ridiculously low. But whatever apparently sleazy Liars are your type”

Adrien was starting to get upset at all these sly remarks he was getting from Chloe. He called her for comfort. Who did she think she was? If he wanted sly comments he would have called Marinette, but he still didn't have her number. Wait a minute. She's been talking to Nino!!! He could just call Nino and get her Number from him!!! He didn't need Chloe!

“Fine Chloe, you know what? turns out I don’t even need your help anymore,” He said smug, happy to have the upper hand. To be honest he half expected Chloe to beg him to not hang up on her.

“Why even bother calling me then?” that....was not the response he was expecting. Fine, it was probably all an act.

“I needed Marinette's number but then I realized that my bro Nino probably has it, so yeah I don’t need your help”

“But he b-” Ha now she was going to beg him not to hang upon him. Well, he wasn't going to give her the chance.

“Goodbye Chloe”

Hanging up he quickly tried to call Nino. After only receiving a dial tone, he shot him a few texts, expecting Nino to respond quickly. He always has.

After receiving none Adrien couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed. Nino probably forgot to charge his phone due to him still being sad over the breakup. This is why Adrien needs to convince Nino to get back together with Alya. He was a mess without her! His phone suddenly binged. Quickly checking, he was disappointed to see it was Chloe. Probably to try and get back on his good side. Ha.

Queen Bee: Nino told me to tell you that he is uh not in “The mood to deal with you and your b.s” tonight.

What!? No Chloe was obviously lying in some weird attempt at getting Payback. Adrien NEEDED to talk to Nino right now because Adrien was going to the states for some gala for the weekend!

Adrikins: Chloe stop fooling around

Queen Bee: Trust me I'm not kidding around, I'm here trying to get some sleep and instead I'm serving as Nino's secretary apparently

Queen Bee: Leave him alone, if you had listened to me earlier you would have realized that Nino added your number to a nice Lil ol place known as the ~block list~

Adrikins: CHLOE YOU HAVE TO TALK TO HIM PLEASE DON'T LET HIM DO IT.

Queen Bee: hmmm let me think about it

At that Adrien let out a sigh of Relief, Chloe will talk some sense into Nino and everything will be back to normal between him and Nino. Even Marinette once he got her number from Nino!!

Queen Bee: I thought about it

Hope bloomed in Adrien's Chest, everything is finally going to be back to normal again!!

Queen Bee: N o

Queen Bee: You’re getting muted for the rest of the night, consider that payback for waking me up so early, I have a trip this weekend. I need all my beauty sleep, you should consider learning about it

Wait a minute if she is going where Adrien thinks she is then there's hope for him after all!!!

Queen Bee: Toodles~

Adrikins: Wait a minute where are you going this weekend

Queen Bee: None of your business

Wayne Manor Gotham, USA 8:00 a.m

“Marinette, I’m just happy you managed to leave that toxic situation before it got worse,” Dick said as he engulfed Marinette in a hug, although not as strong since his ribs were still in pain. Dick slightly grimaced in anticipation of the humongous lecture he was going to get from Bruce later.

“Trust him, Mari, here in Gotham I always see..” Jason trailed off at Dicks pointed look “I mean WE always see....uh in the news how those situations escalate quickly," Yowch talk about a blunder. He still needed to get used to having a sibling who wasnt involved in the nightly adventures. "only not everyone is lucky enough to have Batman swoop in and save the day” Jason quickly added. He threw a prayer of thanks that his adorable baby sister was now safe in Gotham, well as safe as Gotham gets anyways.

Dick racked his brain looking for something to cheer up his little sister in his arms. For once his big brother instincts were being slightly overwhelmed. All of his siblings have gone through awful stuff. This isn't the first, and he doubts it's going to be the last time that he's been there to comfort one of his siblings, or friends for god's sake.

“Wait!!! Dick, doesn't Bruce have that trip in a few days?” Jason piped up.

Oh, Crap. Dick almost forgot about that. Oh god, he couldn’t possibly subject Mari to that disaster….on the other hand it WOULD be a good distraction for her. Hmmm.

“Fine, Mari, pack your bags, You’re not even going to school yet so you won't miss anything,” Dick announced.

“Pack my bags?” Marinette couldn't help but get a bad feeling at the sight of Dicks smirk.

“Yeah no, you’re right. Don't pack your bags make your dad pay for new clothes.” Jason teased. It's what he always did. Billionaire Brucie wouldn't even gawk at the price of a new pair of jeans. Heck, He was paying for his New Truck!!!

“Wait where are we even going?” She asked slightly disturbed at the sight of Dicks growing grin.

“New York City”

Authors Message: I hope you guys enjoyed todays chaoter. Next chapter some new characters are going to enter the fray. Can you take a guess as to who they may be ;) Also Happy Belated Birthday to Our Beloved Timothy Jackson Drake Fun fact I was listening to Hamilton was writing this chapter and its given me the idea to possibly create a Hamilton AU involving the Batfam and slight Adrinette, What do you guys think?

Taglist:

@purplesundaze @silvergold-swirl @k-poplunardreams @pepelachanel @laurcad123 @maribat-is-lifeblood @kass-is-weird @another-fan-of-anotherplan @damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha @thezestywalru @dreamykitty25 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @mochinek0 @shamefullove @mochegato @souleateralicestein @thestressmademedoit @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @aestheticnpoetic @mysupporthyperfixations @itsmeevie01

#miraculous ladybug #mlb au #maribat #Marinette deserves better #dick grayson #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #Damian Wayne #jason todd #class salt #b!dbwm2020

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