#australian accent required

[sapphicshart]

joke for australians

courteney cox: paul vault bar: yes

[yoongihan]

Services Rendered - BC - 1/3

pairing: escort chan x femreader

genre: smut, with little plot, a lot of talking, fluffy,

word count: ~ 10k

warnings: sex work, smut: pentrative safe sex, fingering (fem rec); a lot of kissing, older reader, chan goes by chris, use of 'baby' and 'yeonin' (don't ask, just writing him required all the endearments), the most ethical escort service ever; a little alcohol imbibed, but no one's drunk., some discussion of insecurities on both chris's and reader's parts. if i've missed something, let me know.

rating: 18+/M

summary: seeking a solution to your lack of experience, you assume the process will be business-like. you're entirely wrong.

a/n: vaguely based on the film Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. decided this couldn't be a one-shot they way it was going. so since the time frame is a weekend, they'll be another part for the second day, then perhaps an epilogue. thank you for the interest on the teaser. this is probably the softest sex worker au known to man.

Part One

The knock on the door startles you. It shouldn’t. You’ve known that he’ll be showing up at seven pm since you received the confirmation email; after the survey, the video interview, and the background check.

You look down at yourself at the knock, an immediate and instinctual check. There isn’t anything you can do in two seconds to change how you look, who you are; but the quick look is years and years of the world reminding you that you are not what the world wants. Which sometimes you can pride yourself on. But today, you can’t muster up that bravado.

But it’s been seconds since the first knock, so you hurry as the second rap sounds against the wood. You don’t look through the peephole because you’ll lose your nerve, and unless there are serious red flags with the person on the other side of the door, you are doing this.

It’s past time after all. 

You open the door, smile on your face even if it’s the fakest you’ve ever pasted on. 

The answering smile is far more sincere and confident than yours. And includes dimples. 

Oh god, they’d taken you seriously about often liking younger men. 

“Hi?” He starts when you don’t utter a word, shell-shocked. He says your name with a similar question mark at the end. 

“You have a beautiful smile.” You’re frozen, eyes sweeping up and down, taking in his casual air, amplified by the soft cardigan, shirt, and nice jeans. Then you actually hear what you’ve just said. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Um, please come in…Christopher?”

The confirmation email hadn’t given you a lot of details, but it did have his name. 

“Thank you and Chris is fine.” He’s still smiling as he walks in and you close the door behind. You watch him scan the room, taking in the couch, the view of the city beyond it. It’s the nicest hotel you’ve ever stayed in, but neutral territory had been recommended. “This is stunning.”

Your brain kicks back in, your eyes admiring the picture he made against the city lights. “You’re…your accent…Australian.”

He turns from taking in that spectacular view, his grin wider. “Good ear.” He sets his two bags, one messenger and one overnight (the implications of that second one sends another wave of anxiety through you) on the couch before seeing the two wine glasses on the coffee table. “Will you think less of me if I don’t drink?”

“Oh. No, not at all.” Your hands are clasped in front of you, like a caricature of an anxious woman. “There’s sodas in the minibar. Would you prefer me not to drink as well?”

He stands between the sofa and the window, eyes on you. “Will it help you relax?” He’s in profile, and you gaze at him, the strong nose, chin, and as you let your eyes travel down, the absolutely gorgeous ass.

You didn’t even know you had opinions about mens’ asses until this very moment. 

You cough a laugh, focusing back on his question. “Obvious huh?”

“It’s pointless of me to say not to be nervous, but I hope you know that you’re safe.”

You take a deep breath, walking over to the minibar and searching for two bottles of water. You force yourself to walk over to him, offering him one. 

“I know your company is reputable.”

He takes the water bottle from you, letting his fingers lightly touch yours. It’s nothing more than that, but you suspect it��s intentional. 

“It is. You did your research.” He tilts his head to the side, endearingly like he’s going to see you differently by just that change of angle. “Four months, wasn’t it?”

“You watched the interview?”

“Of course I did.”

If one of your hands wasn’t still holding a now sweating bottle of water, you would cover your face in embarrassment. You resist the impulse, just barely.

“Do you think I’d come here without doing my own research?” He’s amused, voice still warm with his accent and what you would normally categorize as fondness, but that’s impossible just meeting him seconds ago. 

“But I know nothing about you, just the company. They were very cryptic.”

“Well….isn’t that the fun of a date? The getting to know someone?” He gestures for you to sit on the couch before he untwists the cap and takes a swallow of water. He sits down once you do, leaving several feet between you. 

“Is that a better choice of word than assignation?”

He chuckles, pointing at me. “Smart. That was apparent pretty early on.” He seems completely at home even though you’ve been in the room since early afternoon, and are sitting with your back ramrod straight. “Didn’t even have to mention your job situation to know you’re smart.”

There is no natural segue into this, but you have to know. Even if he lies to you, you have to know. “Do you have a choice? I mean, do they assign you clients who fall under certain types, or do you have a quota?”

“You want to talk about my work?”

You take a breath, setting down the bottle on the table. “I guess not. I hope this isn’t horribly unwanted. I know it’s work for you, but I hope you–”

He shakes his head, immediately straightening up from his relaxed position, hand falling to your knee, not bare because you couldn’t see meeting him in a dress, even if that was encouraged for ‘heightened romance’ and ‘efficient disrobing’. Despite that you’re wearing a blue jumpsuit, his hand is so warm through the fabric. 

“This okay?” He nods to his hand placement. 

“You have carte blanche to touch me, Chris. I’ll tell you if I’m not okay with it.” That’s something you feel sure about at least.

His eyes widen and his smile grows. “Okay then. Same, by the way.”

There goes your confidence running out the door; that you can touch him in any way you want. 

“Back to your question. I chose you.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughs and gently squeezes your knee before drawing back. You’re somewhat befuddled by the simple touch and you remind yourself that you’re in for a lot more than that and to stop being so sensitive. 

“I watched your video, read your survey answers…and said yes.” He puts down the water bottle and leans forward a bit. “If no one had said yes, you wouldn’t have gotten that confirmation email.”

“You can choose?”

He nods.

“And you were okay with me?”

“Wow.”

You recognize it, the immediate words of chastisement that come when you say things like that, so you continue quickly. 

“I know, I know. I should be confident, right? Love myself, blah blah blah. I don’t hate myself. I just also know that I’ve never had someone interested in me enough to make me think that anyone would choose me.” 

He doesn’t say anything at first. And you realize you’ve just made this all the more awkward and put words into his mouth, which is highly presumptuous of you. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s easier to stare at the city lights than at him, no matter how beautiful he is. 

“Why?”

You look at him. “I…I was rude.”

“You were honest.”

You scoff. “That’s not usually a problem for me.”

“Good.”

You tuck your feet under you, leaning one elbow on the back of the sofa, eyeing him like he isn’t real.

He’s not. You’ve paid a lot of money for an illusion. 

“Really?”

“I like honesty.”

“Even if you’re playing a part for me?”

“You did not mention roleplay on that survey.” His smirk is delighted when you drop your gaze. “I’m not playing. Yes, I do what I do, but I’m going to be myself.”

“Even if all I want is so vanilla it barely qualifies for your line of work?”

He shakes his head. “Even if that’s all. But I don’t think that’s entirely true.” He reaches out, hand hovering over yours. “Okay?”

“Carte blanche.” You nod. You’re pretty sure you mentioned that you were touch-starved in the application process. 

He slots his fingers with yours, his focus on the meeting of your hands. “Do you want to talk about why I’m here?”

You wish you could say no, but that’s cowardly. And you do want to be brave. 

“That I’m a virgin and have so little understanding of sexual pleasure so I hired an expert to do what I can’t even do for myself?” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it. 

“Why are you a virgin?” he asks. “Sex is not difficult to find if you really want to.”

“I said all this in my–”

“I’d like you to tell me anyway.” He doesn’t do more than hold your hand and his warmth, the lyrical quality of his voice seems to calm you just a touch. “Please?”

He has beautiful eyes. He probably knows that, and knows how to use them. But you can’t help but get lost in them when he says ‘please’ just like that. 

“I’m…I think or I thought that it should be something special, you know? I get that maybe I idealized it a bit much, growing up, eyes all starry with thoughts of romance and being intimate. But even recognizing that, I didn’t want to just…say yes to the drunken proposition at a bar. And…well, I’ve never been in a relationship, so being with someone I trusted wasn’t on the table either.”

“And why haven’t you been in a relationship?”

“It’s not just on me…the other person has to want to as well.” You’re beginning to sound like a petulant child and that’s not ideal. 

“You’re telling me no one wanted to?”

You stare at your combined hands. “If someone wanted to, I didn’t. If I wanted more than just a moment, he wasn’t interested.”

He says your name and you look up. You aren’t sure what he’s thinking, but it’s not pity in his eyes. That’s nice at least. 

“Why now? Why the company?”

“I’m…” You let out a heavy breath. “You saw my information. You know how old I am.”

“I do.”

“I’d like to know what an orgasm feels like before I get any older, because time seems to be running so fast and I’m frustrated that this part of life, of the human experience, is blocked from me.”

“It’s not.” He loosens his grip, turning your hand so it’s open, face-up, on your knee. He starts to trace along the lines there. “You can have an orgasm any time you want.”

“You think I haven’t tried?”

“What’s the problem?” There is no judgment in his tone, nothing but consideration. When you don’t immediately answer, he continues. “This wasn’t in your application or interview.”

“I get scared.”

To his credit, he doesn’t stop the light touching of your hand, even if admitting this feels like the quintessential ‘walking into your classroom naked’ nightmare. 

“Do you know why?”

You shrug, completely focused on the chaste and sweet brushes of skin on skin. “I haven’t been to therapy in a couple years, but I can speculate.”

He waits, a quirk of a smile when you don’t say anything. 

“I’ve probably built it up, in my head. Made it such a big deal that the anticipation is insurmountable. Or…I hate that it’ll just be me. That my first one will be on my own. I don’t know.” 

“Or societally-taught shame.”

You laugh. “Or that.”

He finally draws away after your hand feels thoroughly seduced. He leans back, waits before speaking. He doesn’t seem to rush anything, which is both nice and absolutely maddening. 

“Will it still be special if you’ve paid for it?”

That is the question, isn’t it?

“Maybe not. But at least, you’re contractually obligated to make sure I enjoy it, right? That seems pretty special after hearing everything from women I know about the men they sleep with.” The stories you’ve heard. It’s enough to question whether sex is even what you hope it might be. 

“And that’ll be enough?”

You want to reach out and touch him. Trace the lines of his face; the strong nose, the dimples, the curves of his eyebrows and lips. Touch the dark hair, wavy and messy that contrasts with the striking facial features. 

You could, you suppose. You paid for such access, right?

As beautiful as he is, as lovely as his voice is, and perhaps it’s because of those very things that you cannot be bold physically. Even if all you want is to be held. 

“I guess it has to be.”

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but your stomach decides right then to make the most egregious sound. He laughs, a full session of giggling as you heat in mortification. He stands and offers his hand. 

“Let’s have dinner then?”

“Oh but.” How do you word this? “Is that good to do before–?” You’re an adult but you can’t for the life of you say ‘making love’ which isn’t even accurate. But ‘fucking’ feels incredibly crass.

He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ll need your energy, right?”

He’d know of course.

Some of the tension, the awkwardness, dissipates when you both look at the room service menu and order. Chris admits that spicy food is not his thing and you think it funny that this is the first thing you both have in common. 

“Do you…do you abstain from alcohol because of struggling with it?”

He has poured you a glass of the sparkling sweet stuff you’d picked up for yourself. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t like it, most men don’t or don’t admit that they do. The wine, like this entire experience, is for you. 

Your mind likes to tell you that you’re being selfish, but you’re choosing not to listen closely. 

He sets down the bottle before gesturing that you should sit again on the sofa while waiting for dinner. He waits until you sit before doing the same. You note mentally, in all capital letters, that he sits closer to you. 

“I generally don’t like it. Nor is it something I ever want to rely on…” He watches you take a sip and you find that a skill you tend to do well (drink something) is hindered by such an attentive gaze. You wipe your mouth quickly and set the glass down, looking away. “It’s my job. And I don’t want to do it with an inhibited mind.”

“Oh.”

“Can you do something for me?” he asks softly, reaching out once again to take your hand. You let him, hoping he will as successfully seduce this as he’d done with the other. 

“What?”

“When you have a thought, like you just did? Just tell me.”

“Without a filter?”

He grins, wide. “Absolutely without a filter.”

“Why?”

He chuckles and starts tracing the lines of your palm and fingers. “How am I going to get you to let go if I don’t know what is going on inside that head of yours?”

“I was hoping you’d just shut it down for me instead.”

It’s a glint. A quick, but potent change in his eyes. “Gotta know how it works before I render you senseless.”

His voice has changed too. No longer warm, but hot. No longer lyrical, but sharp. 

“It’s noisy,” you say slowly. “My brain rarely slows down or gets quiet. I went to a concert once, one I was super super excited about, and I kept telling myself to enjoy the moment, being present right then. But just telling myself that…”

“Means you weren’t. Present.”

You shake your head. “I’m going to overthink this.”

He nods. “Understood.” He lets his touch carry up the inside of your forearm and elbow. You shiver. He meets your eyes with a smirk. 

“How long have you been doing this? With the company?”

“A few years,” he says, fingers still lightly brushing your skin. “It’s not my only job. It’s just the better paying one.” 

“What else do you do?”

“Act. Or try to. I go to quite a few auditions, but the results aren’t great.” His lips twist as he thinks. “But I like it. I like the process of character work.”

“Do you do community theatre?”

“Some.” He grins. “You a theatre kid?”

“Once upon a time.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.”

“Oh but–”

He stands, hand out to keep you where you’re at. “It’s your weekend, right? Let me serve you.” The emphasis on ‘serve’ is left hanging as he goes to the door to retrieve dinner. You take a big gulp of your drink, unbidden images in your mind. You have no practical experience, but your imagination is as active as the rest of your brain. 

He returns with a large tray, setting down the dishes with ease.

“Worked in food service?”

“Who hasn’t?” He returns to the spot next to you and rests his hands on his knees. “You?”

“Food service? Yes. I was terrible at it.”

He laughs before removing the lids of each plate. He offers you one, silverware in his other hand. 

“Here you are, madam,” his grin is unburdened, very playful and bright. You could stare at it for hours. “Why were you terrible at it?”

You set your plate down, waiting for him to get his own food before you start. “Too many things to remember. And trying to interact with people like that? It was just…awkward. I'm decent with people, but for whatever reason, having to take their orders, bring them food and drink, figure out when is the appropriate time to bring them their check, just makes me awkward.” I shrug. “Also, murder on the feet.” You take a bite and chew, enjoying the flavors. 

“It really is. Which is why I prefer to do my work lying down.”

You can feel the immediate heat in your face at his words and he laughs so hard, he falls back on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. It’s such a bad joke, but your face.” He squeezes your knee again, before taking a bite of his own meal. When you don’t say anything, he swallows and looks back at you. “What? Cheesy jokes aren’t your thing?”

It’s the smile. The crinkling of his eyes and scrunch of his nose. 

You lean close to kiss his cheek. “I just wanted to do that,” you say softly before pulling back and trying to focus on your food. You can feel his gaze as you take a few more bites. You know your embarrassment is more than obvious if he’s looking at you. 

Finally after several seconds of silence, you make eye contact. 

He smiles once you do, not saying anything, but returning to his meal. You both concentrate on that, the conversation mostly paused for sustenance. He refills your glass, but you’re careful not to drink too much, recognizing that you are a lightweight and you want to remember whatever happens. 

“We can order dessert?” he prompts when each of your plates are more empty than full. 

You lift your glass. “Plenty of sweet right here.”

“Can I try?” He doesn’t go for the extra wine glass still on the low table. He reaches for yours. It’s familiar, the drinking after someone else. You know it’s dumb to focus on it as you hired him for sex, but as you watch him sip it and stare into nothing as he ponders if he likes it or not, you feel the intimacy. 

“Well?”

“I like it.” He hands the glass back. “Doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Which makes it dangerous and this should be the last for me.” You look back to your plate, not completely done, but you’re thinking too much again and you can’t stomach any more. 

He stands and starts to clean up, shaking his head the moment you move to join. 

“I’m not good with just…not doing anything.” 

“I can see that.” He doesn’t have to seem so amused. “Makes it fun.” 

Mock-annoyed, you take your glass and walk to the windows so you can take in the view. The sun has been set for at least an hour now, and the lights from the city buildings are plentiful. You take a few deep breaths, realizing that now dinner is done, there is nothing hindering the ‘just do it’ portion of the night.

You hope he’s okay with a lot of foreplay because you, in the little you know about your body, need a lot of build up.

The door opens and shuts with him setting out the dishes for hotel staff to retrieve and soon you hear him rustling through his bag. You turn to see him pull out a zipped pouch. He winks at you.

“Gonna brush my teeth?”

“Oh. Oh sure.”

He chuckles at your response, and you force yourself to look back out over the city. Then in an almost panic, you finish the last of your wine, set down the glass and hurry to your overnight bag by the king-sized bed. You dig through to find your own toiletry bag, and tug it out. He comes out of the bathroom, glances over to see you’re no longer by the window. 

“I thought…” You feel so stupid. “I’d do the same.”

He smiles and gestures toward the bathroom. You hurry past him and shut the door behind you. You regret looking in the mirror as your face is decidedly not a poker face. Your nerves show in your eyes, the swollenness of chewing on your lips, the sheen of perspiration on your skin. 

You wipe under your eyes as your makeup is smeary before quickly brushing your teeth. You soak one of the pristine white washcloths and twist it so it’s damp and not dripping. You press it lightly to your face, hoping the cool will calm you down. You fiddle with your necklace, pulling the clasp to the back of your neck as though that will make any difference in how you appear to him. 

When you open the door, he’s standing by the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, looking at the two books you have on the nightstand. He points to them before speaking.

“Planning on doing a lot of reading?” He’s teasing, and that helps you calm down a little bit.

“I can’t go anywhere without at least one book. Even if the chances of getting to read are slim to none.” You mirror his posture, sliding your hands into the pockets of your jumpsuit.

“You okay?” he asks, voice gentle.

“Theoretically? Absolutely.” Your tone does nothing to confirm your words.

“Wanna sit with me?” He sits at the end of the bed and pats the space next to him. You hesitate. “Or we can sit on the couch?”

Dumb, you are dumb. The bed is the obvious final destination, but for whatever reason, the couch feels safer right now. 

“Please. The couch.”

He gets up and walks over to where you are still standing. He slips his hand in yours. 

“Come on, yeonin,” he says as he leads you back to the couch. He tugs you down next to him and you sit stiffly, hand still in his, other hand on the edge of the cushion like you’re about to escape. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “That’s better.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

You look at your hands entwined. His are, like the rest of him, really attractive; bigger than yours, veins prominent in the way that epitomizes sexy. 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. We don’t have to do anything the entire time,” he reassures you, making you look up to his face. “This is for you. It can be on your timeline.”

“But…but if I don’t do it now…I don’t think I ever will.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, presses a kiss to your knuckles, causing you to stare at him. “I think you’re psyching yourself out.”

“Oh, I am absolutely doing that,” you agree. “I can’t seem to stop it.”

He purses his lips in thought, then draws your hand against them again. He has to hear the catch in your breathing because he smiles. 

“Let’s start with what you are comfortable with. What you’ve done previously. What you want to do. With me.” His voice drops at the end, and you feel it pulsate through your body. 

“Okay.”

He waits, patiently. You pull your hand out of his and turn toward him, trying to relax yourself enough that you don’t look primed to run away. You tuck one leg under you before taking his hand again. He smiles as you do, slotting his fingers with yours, watching you as you watch how your hand looks in his. 

“I like your hands,” you say softly.

“Yeah? Why?” 

You like how his voice doesn’t betray any judgement at your words, or offense. Just curiosity. When you meet his gaze, you can see the top of his cheeks are a little pink.

Is he blushing?

“Well, one, they’re very warm.” You laugh. “I like the way they’re shaped.” You trace his index finger as you continue. “I know masculinity and femininity are products of our society, but they’re very masculine.” You shrug before shivering.

“You cold?” he asks quickly, letting go of your hand to tug off his cardigan. He has it on your shoulders, pulling it closed, before you can even protest. His white t-shirt underneath stretches taut across his chest and shoulders, catching your attention for a good few seconds. 

“I…thank you,” you reply, burying yourself more in the soft fuzzy material. “I like this cardigan.”

“I thought you might.” He’s gone back to holding your hand, other arm propped against the back of the sofa. 

His words spark something. “Wait…do you pick your clothes based on your clients?”

He grins, leaning his head on his hand, eyes sparkling. “You really want me to talk about work?”

“Okay, I shouldn’t, but I’m really fascinated.”

“Well…yes. It’s a costume. Some clients want a type of escort who’s very put together, like in a suit.”

The image of him in a well-tailored suit pops into your head immediately. “I imagine you look stunning.”

The pink spreads in his cheeks and you are beyond amused that this man, with the job he has, could at all be embarrassed by something as simple as a compliment. 

“I…I have a few nice suits.” He clears his throat. “But dependent on what a client is looking for in an…encounter, dictates outfit as much as persona.”

“I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in a suit.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand before letting it go and tapping a random rhythm on your leg. “I speculated, from your interview, the way you looked at the camera, that you probably prefer authenticity over any sort of glamour. Someone a bit more real.”

“And that’s a cardigan?”

“For me it is. I was grateful I didn’t have to use anything in my hair.” He laughs now and you reach to touch his hair instinctively, caught up in the coziness and comfort of him and the simple conversation. His hair is soft, without any hair product. You can feel his eyes on you as you let your fingers brush through the strands. 

“So…you’re telling me,” you ask, drawing back after another minute. “You are being yourself, right now?”

“As much as a person can be with someone they’ve just met. And hope to–” He looks up, searching for the word.

“To fuck?”

His eyes dart back to you. “Simply put. But I would like to imagine it’d be a bit nicer than that.” Neither of you say anything and you’re back to second-guessing yourself. “Hey,” he begins. “Come here.”

He takes both of your hands, pulling you so you are almost in his lap. He lets your hands fall to his shoulders, his own holding about the waist. The position means he’s looking up at you. 

His thighs are warm between your legs, his eyes accented by dark lashes. You draw one finger down the length of his nose. He scrunches it at your touch. 

“It’s big.”

You laugh at his self-deprecation and the underlying innuendo that was probably unmeant but who cares?

“It’s a very nice nose,” you reply, cheeky grin. He responds with his own smile. “It fits your face, so it works, right?”

“We all have our insecurities, right?”

You brush back his hair, thinking. “Some of us have so many it’s hard to see what’s not tainted in dislike.” 

His hands tighten at your waist. “Tell me something you like about yourself.”

“Oh my god, you sound like my college counselor, who had me write five good things for every bad thing I said about myself.”

His smile is softer and one hand slides up your back, under the cardigan. “I’m asking for just one.”

“As much as it gets me into trouble,” you state slowly, your own hands mapping the journey of his shoulders to his neck and back again. “I like that I’m honest. That’s my default.”

“Another.”

“You said just one.”

“I did, but I’m greedy. Another and it has to be shallow.”

“Shallow?”

“Your looks.”

You frown at him, but he’s so pretty like this, looking up at you like he has all the time in the world, that he’s not on the clock. That this entire experience isn’t funded by your savings account and a plan months in the making. 

“I…”

“You can do it.”

You slap his shoulder and he laughs. “Do not patronize me.”

“I’m not. I’m encouraging.”

“Please.”

“Another good thing, about you.” His hand that had slid up your back has now drifted down, resting right at the curve of your ass. 

“My eyes?”

“What about them?”

“God, you are my college counselor.”

His smile is unrepentant. 

“They’re nice.”

His expression morphs into mild annoyance. “They’re beautiful. I like the color. And how much they show. You’d be shit at poker.”

“I’ll have you know that I mask my feelings decently well in everyday life. I’m just tired.”

He nods. 

“You’re not going to ask me to say another nice thing, are you?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

You lean down slightly, lessening the distance between your faces. His eyes don’t flicker away. 

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Maybe?”

“I like when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Confident. It’s sexy.” His voice drops lower with these words and you belatedly realize that in your effort to evade having to say another nice thing about yourself, you’ve invaded his personal space (not that he looks like he’s bothered by it) and if this was a movie or any type of story, your next move would be to kiss him. 

Which means now you’re looking at his lips. They, like everything you’ve seen of him so far (oh my god, you are going to see all of him at some point if this experience is at all successful) are beautiful, perfectly-shaped, enticing. 

He says your name in the same low voice, a promised whisper. “Kiss me.”

You swallow nervously. “It’s been a minute.”

“All the reason to practice on me.”

He’s good at this. Softening a moment that feels like too much for you. Making you smile when you feel overwhelmed and doubtful.

“Use you?”

“Please.” His hand slips farther down and there’s no denying that he has moved to less than appropriate places. 

You let your eyes close as you cover the last bit of space between you and him, your lips touching his so lightly it feels like a wisp of a daydream. He doesn’t let you get away with it though. Hand cupping the back of your neck, he keeps you there, the kiss lengthening and lingering in a way that brings back the shivers you thought the cardigan had dispelled. 

When he draws back, your breathing is a bit labored. He caresses where his hands sit, neck and ass, watching you carefully. You expect him to say something, maybe about you needing some practice for sure, but he doesn’t. He just watches before moving back in.

“Open up, yeonin,” he whispers, and your lips part instinctively at his words. Eyes close and you feel his tongue trace the inside of your lips before sliding in to stroke yours. 

You whimper and his hand tightens its grip on your ass. You run your fingers through his hair before moving closer. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s good at kissing…it’s probably a requirement of his job. But where so many can use their tongue to excess, he’s found the perfect balance of tongue, lips, and teeth.

When you decide to be a bit bold and nibble on his lower lip, his hand tightens, a sharp exhale. 

“Confident,” he murmurs against your mouth before leaving it to press kisses to your jaw line, down to your neck. There’s a light nip and you gasp, your own fingers digging into his shoulders. He squeezes the back of your neck gently. 

“Chris,” you breathe, and he draws back, looking up at you. His lips are swollen, pink and plump. The color high on his cheeks, his hair even more tousled. 

“What is it, baby,” he asks softly, the quiet of the hotel room overwhelming. Should you have put on music? Isn’t that often the precursor to a night like this? His kiss on your lips is quick and almost careless. “Stay with me. I can see you thinking too hard.”

You half-laugh, embarrassed, loosening your hands and starting to sit back on your heels practically. He holds you firm so you can’t put any distance. 

“Don’t. Don’t move away.” He rubs your back, soothing. “What is it?”

“I just…you’re right. I’m thinking again.”

He smiles, leaning in so your noses touch. “Kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” His smile widens when you swoop back in. He lets you lead, eager to taste him, eager to enjoy this moment without thinking it’ll end in minutes. You play with his hair, while he kisses you back, tongue curling with yours. It takes you a moment or three, realizing that his hold on your ass, tightens ever so much, ever so slowly closer until when you break from his lips to suck a mark on his neck, his hips buck right up against you. 

And you freeze. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, still in that soft soft voice. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you breathe. 

“Scared?” You’ve tucked your face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in, trying to relax. 

“It’s dumb. It…you feel good. It’s just…surprising. I’m sorry.”

He kisses the side of your head, the hand again rubbing circles on your back. “Don’t apologize.” He waits. “Look at me.”

You lift your head, your face burning with humiliation. He cups your face in his hand. 

“Your pace, okay? If you’ve never been with someone, it would be a little scary.” He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But if it worried you at all, I do want you.”

You take a deep breath, watching his face as though there might be something to tell you he isn’t being truthful. 

“You’re way too nice.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly. “I like being nice. I like being nice to you. I like listening to the sounds you make when you’re excited, how you move closer when turned on.” He stares at you with no shame. “I like that it’s me making you do those things.”

Your cheeks burn. 

“Come on,” he says, and without any sort of visual effort, he lifts you. You squeak, legs wrapping around his waist. He’s laughing at your shock, carrying you toward the bed. You can feel your breathing shorten as he lays you down with ease. He regards you, rubbing one hand on your thigh that starts to relax, his other against the mattress, so his entire weight isn’t on you. 

You stare up at him. 

“What are you thinking now?” 

“That I’m warm.”

His grin is infectious. “Probably ought to get rid of that cardigan.” He rolls to his side, gently tugging the garment off your shoulders, down your arms. You push yourself up so he can pull it from under you. You fall back, the bed bouncing. He waits for a second. 

“Still warm?” he asks, fingers tracing the buttons in front of your jumpsuit. His eyes flick to yours. “We still good?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not entirely convinced by that,” he teases, leaning to kiss you just as he undoes the top button. You focus on the feel of his mouth, the wet heat, even as it leaves your lips, trailing down to your neck and then the middle of your chest as he undoes the rest of the buttons. “Pretty,” he comments when your bra is revealed by the unbuttoning. He looks up at you through his lashes. 

“Pretty,” you repeat, tugging on the shoulder of his t-shirt. He laughs as he sits up and does the very attractive guy thing, of pulling it off from behind his neck. “Oh.”

He raises his eyebrows, looking down at his half-naked state. “I mean, I did have dinner, so…” There’s humor, but you hear the self-deprecation. 

It’s instinct, you sitting up and reaching out to touch him. “The ‘oh’ was pure admiration, Chris. Like, you are stunning.” Your hands trace down his arms. “I…it’s a little intimidating, honestly. I know that for your job…both jobs probably…you need to look perfect…but perfection is daunting.” You don’t think that your hands are boldly caressing his bare skin, until you feel the top of his jeans at your fingers. Your eyes widen and you pull away as though burnt.

He’s giggling, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his shoulders. “Carte blanche, remember. God, you’re cute.” He keeps his smile even when the giggles subside, carefully nudging your clothing off your shoulders. He draws one finger up the valley between your breasts. 

“I am not perfect-looking.”

He doesn’t look away from you, eyes heating at your bare skin, his hand resting on your arm. You start to pull away, fidget at the quiet and his lengthy perusal. His hand tightens, keeping you still. 

“Chris.”

His eyes move up to yours. “Stunning.”

You don’t believe him, why would you when he looks like he does? But there’s something in his gaze that makes you think he believes it, and in matters of whether or not someone is beautiful, it really is in the eye of the beholder, right?

And he is beholding, currently. 

It’s too much for you at this point, his acute focus on you, so you move in to kiss him again, more than happy to get back to the familiar. He returns kiss for kiss, and you fall backward into the mattress and pillows, his body on yours, a pleasant weight. When he leaves your lips this time, you think you’ll feel him against your neck, leaving marks; but the wet heat of his mouth encases your covered breast. The gasp you let out is barely audible, the sharp inhale of air. It sends a frisson through you, as his hand slips under the still open fabric covering your hips. The combinations of heat from his mouth and his hand overwhelms, and you can’t stop shuddering. You make some nonsensical sound when he proceeds to lavish the same attention on your other breast. The wet lace and satin scratches in the most indulgent way. 

“Do something for me?” he whispers, his breath chilling your damp skin. 

“What?”

“Since it’s new, use the stoplight system? Red means full stop. Yellow means a pause, perhaps take a break, and green means you’re good, not scared, not hurting.” His eyes zero into yours without flickering away.

You nod, breathless. “Okay. I…I can do that.”

“Cause I’m gonna touch you now, and you gotta tell me what works and what doesn’t.” He kisses your nose. His fingers sneak under your underwear, slowly like he believes you’re still skittish (you are, but you also want something down there). He’s so gentle, kissing you as he drags the pad of his finger along your entrance. “Color?” he says against your mouth.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head a bit more, smiling down at you. “What color?”

“Oh. Oh! Green.”

He chuckles, murmuring, “Cute,” before going back to kissing you. His thumb presses on your clit and your hips buck. “Easy,” he says, his other hand on your hip to hold you down. 

“Chris…that…that feels good.”

He does the same movement again, your hips try, but his hand is heavy to keep you steady. “That?”

You narrow your gaze, even though you’re quivering with his touch. “You’re making fun of me.”

He leans in, smile as wide as can be, dimples deep. His nose brushes yours. 

“Absolutely.” 

You raise up to meet his lips, fingers seeking his hair. He hums, his fingers playing with you, as though seeking the destination immediately isn’t the point. You trace down his neck to his shoulders and arms.

“You know,” you begin, gasping when he slides one finger into you. His smile is so arrogant. 

“You were saying?”

“I…” 

He circles your clit with the barest of touches, his other finger curling up inside. Your breath hitches.

“Breathe, baby. Yeonin, you’re okay, just breathe.” His gaze is soft on you as you can’t help but close your eyes tight as the liquid pull of pleasure grows. You feel like a band drawn tight, seconds away from breaking. You feel his lips on yours, careful before speaking. “Don’t be scared, just let go.”

It ramps up, the tension building and building, and you are gasping, opening your eyes to see that his gaze is resolute on you.  

When his second finger slips in, curling with the other, you shatter. 

He licks into your mouth, as you have no voice to make a sound. You’re only aware of the sensations; his tongue on yours, your fingers biting into the skin of his arms, how your legs tremble. 

How the quiet and ease flickers back into your brain after the quivers lessen, and the muscles ease. 

His fingers are still in you, still touching you and you shake your head. 

“Too much?”

“Yellow.”

He pulls his hand away, quietly adjusting your underwear. The hand that held your hip slides up to your stomach, warm and comforting. 

You take a deep breath, finding his eyes. “Wow.”

He laughs, falling down next to you, no longer propping himself up. If your face was hot with exertion and arousal earlier, it’s now hot with embarrassment. 

“That’s the best feedback I’ve gotten,” he says, his hand cupping your waist, so he can roll you toward him. 

“I doubt that.”

He leans in to kiss you quick. “How do you feel?”

“Both exhausted and energized. I think.”

“Sounds about right.” He rolls to his back, looking up at the ceiling. You push yourself to your elbows, unable to look away from him. He eventually glances over. “Yes?”

“That’s not it, is it?”

He snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Not at all. But I thought you might want a break.”

Your gaze moves from his beautiful face to his arms. “I remember what I was going to say before you…”

“Before I…?”

“Shut up.”

He’s snickering. 

“I was going to say how it’s wrong that they only talk about curves in regards to women. Men have curves too.” You smooth your fingers along his arm, wrist to shoulder. “Just as beautiful.” 

His snickering fades. “Really?”

“Arms…jaw line.” You trace each as you speak. “Lips.” Which part when your finger makes contact. You meet his eyes for a second before hoping it’s an invitation, slip your finger in. His lips wrap around it, his teeth dragging against the pad of your finger. “Oh god.”

He smiles before sucking then releasing. He sits up, finger under your chin so you’re facing him. He kisses you lightly, before toying with the last button on your jumpsuit. “I think we should remove this.”

As much as you’d like to see more of him, completely baring yourself is something you haven’t done outside of your own bedroom, and in a doctor’s office. But you can do this. “Okay..if…” You gesture to his jeans. “Equality and all that.”

“For equality,” he teases, moving to stand at the end of the bed. You follow, reaching for the button on his jeans. “You want to?”

“Yes.” You focus on your fingers working properly, though you’re still a bit shaky from your…orgasm. At some point, you are going to have to process through that. His hands cover yours. “I can do it, I’m just a bit jumpy.”

You feel his lips on your forehead. “You know, we don’t have to do this tonight. I could just eat you out.”

Your head shoots up in surprise. He seems unbothered by how casually he talks about oral sex. 

“But you’re…” With your hands near and your attention at the fastening of his pants, his arousal is more than obvious. 

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t let go of your hands, even as you undo the button and pull down the zipper. There’s a strain to his voice when your fingers unthinkingly brush him. There’s a twitch and you find yourself fascinated by it. “But this is easily dealt with if you want. You’re still a virgin, but you know what an orgasm feels like. So, we could just stop–”

“No,” you interrupt, looking up at him, letting your hand stroke him through his underwear. There’s another twitch, and his face tenses slightly. After being so completely undone by his touch, you want to ‘return the favor.’ See him undone. “Please?”

Your hands are bolder, tugging down his jeans so you can cup him easier. He breathes sharply through his nose, head dropping slightly. 

“You do not have to say please, I’m more than willing.”

You peer up at him. His eyes are half-mast, another edged inhale. You push down his jeans completely, letting him step out of them, kicking them away. He wears black boxer-briefs that are straining currently. You reach for them, but he wraps his hands around your wrists, halting you. 

“No?”

“Equality,” he says, the amusement back in his voice. 

Right, you still have your jumpsuit on, well, half on. 

He lets go, moving a step closer so you can feel his body heat, smell whatever fresh cologne he wears, heightening his natural scent. He slides his hands between your skin and the jumpsuit, hands so warm you shiver despite not being chilly. Your clothing falls, following the journey of his hands, hips to thighs to ankles. He’s at your feet, looking up at you; those eyes so dark, you can’t see the warm mahogany. 

You step out of the pile of fabric and he tosses it over the back of the chair several feet away. 

You are essentially without clothing, your underwear (hand-picked for this weekend as you figured you might as well try something pretty) covering enough, but not enough. If he senses this, he doesn’t indicate, walking back to you and cupping your face in his big hands, tipping your head up for a kiss. You welcome this, the heat of his mouth. It’s been only minutes since he’s kissed you, but you crave like an addict who’s going through withdrawal. 

Stroking his bare back has you humming against his lips (how could a back feel so good? But here you are). You can feel his smile, his tremble and goosebumps as the room isn’t exactly at temperature for as little as you two are wearing.

“Cold?” you ask softly. He pecks your lips before drawing back to make eye contact. His hands stay on your face, and you feel cherished, which a voice in your brain tells you is stupid as you’re paying this man and his company to make you feel like that. 

He’s a really good actor.

“A bit,” he replies to your question. He brushes his nose with yours. “I’ll grab a condom.”

Your eyes widen, but you nod, immediately colder when he lets go. He sits at the end of the bed, rummaging in his bag. You grab something out of yours, your face hot with embarrassment. He looks over at what you offer. 

“I…uh…did research and a friend recommended this.”

“Lube?” he asks, taking it and glancing at the label. “Okay.” He’s smiling at you, like you’re funny, which might be true even if you aren’t trying to be. 

You sit on the bed, in the middle, a bit at a loss now that you have nothing in your hands. “I would have bought condoms, but there’s so many kinds and sizes and I was worried I might offend you with getting the wrong size. I wouldn’t even know.”

He looks over his shoulder, still smiling. “Tends to be a required thing I bring.”

“Of course.”

He, having retrieved said prophylactic, crawls to where you’re sat (the bed is king-sized and it feels monstrously large). He sits next to you, cross-legged like you are. 

“Again, we don’t have to. I can get you off as much as you want without–”

“It’s weird,” you say, glancing at him. “Just talking about this. I’ve talked in theoreticals about sex my whole life and now, it’s just…it’s such a normal thing, right? Just this thing a lot of people do but I haven’t.” 

He bumps shoulders with you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m going off on a tangent again. I’m sure it’s annoying.”

He links his hand with yours, resting them on his knee. “I’m not annoyed. I like talking to you. And I want you to be comfortable and have a good time, not feel pressured or coerced in any way. We can talk all night.”

“No. I mean, that actually sounds like fun with you.”

His answering smile is brilliant.

“But…I want to. I’m just nervous.” You lift his hand, still wrapped around yours, to your lips. You meet his gaze. “I’m so glad you chose me.”

The fondness melts into something hotter in his eyes, pupils dilating. He eases you onto your back, kissing you softly, mouth at your mouth, then your neck and collarbone. You squirm, as he hovers over you, raising up to check on you. It’s criminal how good he looks, hair messy (from your hands), lips swollen (from your lips). He toys with the clasp of your bra, his fingers brushing the edges of your curves. 

“Can I?”

You nod, your breathing hindered by how easily he’s wound you up again, with only kisses. He undoes the clasp without difficulty, gently peeling off the lace from your breast, exposing them to his regard. 

With a glance at your face, another check in, he lowers to suck on one nipple, the feeling entirely different without fabric hindering. You hiss out his name, hands scrambling to grab his arms, something to ground you. His chuckles vibrate against your skin and you moan more wantonly than you believed you were capable of. He moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Your fingers dig into his arms; you’ll leave marks.

You hope you leave some sort of impression on this man. 

Once he’s done twisting you up, he removes your bra, tossing it aside before snapping the band of your underwear, causing you to jolt.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Please. Yours too?” Your words aren’t more than whispers. He smirks, before shedding his and tugging down yours. You stare, openly and blatantly at his nudity. 

“I’m debating on telling you whether I’m average or not,” he teases, making you look away from his cock to his face. 

“Does it matter? Really?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, prompted by the visual you have. 

His cheeks, already pink from arousal, deepen all the more and you laugh. He makes a face at you before moving back to kissing you. 

“Aren’t you just trouble,” he murmurs, slipping the foil packet into your hand. “Put it on?”

You push yourself back up to rip open the packet, and roll it on him. You don’t draw back, fascinated by the immense heat he radiates, how delicate the skin is, even under the latex. He twitches at your exploration. 

“It feels okay?”

“Feels great,” the words on a heavy exhale. He does, however, take your hand away, assisting you back onto the bed. “So…there’s a lot of ways to do this, and I would like to try them all with you, but this is probably the easiest for your first time.”

“Missionary?”

“A classic,” he jokes before his expression smoothes into something more serious. “You can tell me to stop at any time.”

“Green, yellow, red.”

“Exactly.” Moving himself, so he’s kneeling between your legs, he squeezes out the lube into his hands, warming it before sliding it onto his cock, and then to your cunt. You jump at the feel of it, but his hands haven’t forgotten how to play you and that build that you felt not that long ago, starts its climb yet again. 

“Chris,” you reach out for him, shuddering as he toys with your clit. He leans down so you can grab him, feel that smooth back. His mouth attaches to yours, as his fingers circle, press and increase the anticipation. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his dick, intent because even with no experience, you clench; your body instinctively craving something to fill you. He curses at your touch. “No?”

“You’re good, baby. Hand feels good,” he reassures, lips and teeth sloppily moving against yours. “Still green?” You tense when you feel him at your entrance.

“Yes. Green, please.” You want so desperately. 

He pushes in, incrementally. “Breathe through it. You have to relax.” He’s watching you so carefully as he continues. You stare back, he seems blurry right now. The stretch is borderline painful, but you still want it. Your hand slides to his hip and then his ass, where you grip hard. 

“Color?” He seems so calm, but his voice is labored, tension coloring it. 

“Green.” Can he even hear you? You don’t know if you’ve even given voice or just mouthed it. “Fuck. I’m so full of you.”

He curses again. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You blink away some of the haze, to focus on him. Veins bulging in his neck, and arms. “I can’t?”

“I mean…” He takes a deep breath, expression softening slightly. “You feel so good, but I need to be careful with you.”

“I do?”

He laughs brokenly at how pleased you sound. “So fucking cute,” he mutters. “I’m gonna move, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pulls back, not as slowly, but still with patience you can’t fathom. The stroke, how he slides against your core is delicious and strange and wonderful. He pushes back in. 

“Feels good,” you sigh. 

He hums in response, repeating the motion before chuckling. Your eyes shoot open as he looks down at you. 

“What?”

“Helps if you move too.”

You’re already very hot from everything, but you can feel the blood rush to your face. He’s still giggling and moves to kiss you.

“You’re okay, I’m just giving you a few pointers. You can absolutely just lay there if you want. It’ll probably feel better though if you move.”

“I guess I’m a bit rubbish at this.”

“Nah, just learning.” He brushes his nose against yours. “No one is an expert their first time.” 

As you clench and try to find a rhythm with your hips that matches his, “I bet you were.”

He laughs, strained but joyous. “I definitely wasn’t.” He keeps himself propped up with one hand on the bed, but his other returns to your clit, the mere touch pushing that climb again. There’s a moment when your hips align and you just know you did it right, but it’s half a second and you find you’re off again, especially with his attention on your clit. 

“Chris,” you whine. 

“You can let go, yeonin. It’s fine.”

When you break, it’s different than the first time, not as intense, but lovely and shattering. The rolls through you, tremors and muscles relaxing. 

No wonder everyone does this. 

“Stay with me,” you hear him. You open your eyes to see that he’s still moving, his thrusts more erratic. You squeeze him, out of some instinct you didn’t know you had. He groans. “Yeah, that’s good.” You don’t feel like you have much strength after a second orgasm, but you roll your hips and clench as best you can as he speeds up. 

It’s fascinating to watch him climax, the tension in the neck veins, the jaw muscles tight, the furrow in his forehead. It’s a different kind of beauty, heightened by the knowledge that you, or your body at least, did that. He falls on top of you, his hands trying to keep his weight off, but you wrap yourself around him as he shudders from release. 

After several minutes, when it seems like his trembling has ceased, you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “Color?” 

He chuckles. “Fucking green.” He kisses the top of your chest before lifting up to see you. “You?”

“That was really…yeah.”

He grins, boyish charm. “Good.” He stares at you for a few seconds. “You look a little sleepy.”

“Yeeeeah. Maybe.”

He laughs before rolling off and out of you. You wince at the loss. He disposes of the condom before tugging you off the bed. 

“Did we ruin the comforter?” you ask, standing but a bit wobbly. 

“Probably not,” he says, pulling the comforter off and onto the floor. He wraps an arm around you, at ease in his nakedness (your brain is foggy still and you just now are realizing how naked you are too). “Pajamas?”

“Yes…” you slur a little, exhaustion from all your nerves today, anticipation and worry catching up. He sits you down on the sheets before going into the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth. “Oh, I can…”

“Hush,” he admonishes, cleaning you up reverently. He tosses the washcloth on top of the discarded comforter and then goes to your bag and pulls out your faded t-shirt and soft flannel pants. 

“I…I have a…lingerie nightgown in there.”

He shakes his head, coming to kneel in front of you. He slides on the pants, then the t-shirt over your head. 

“Something comfortable. You can show me the nightgown tomorrow night.” He pulls back the sheets and gets you settled in. You curl to your side, eyes closed against the pillow. You hear him move around the room, the few lamps that were on turn off. It feels like seconds or days until he slides in next to you. He touches your side lightly, saying your name. 

“Hmm?” you reply, before reaching to grab his hand and wrap it around your middle. There’s a half-laugh. 

“Guess you like cuddling, too?”

You make an affirmative sound as he curves around you, his lips touching the back of your neck. You shiver and lace your fingers with his. 

“Chris?” you say a few minutes later, the threat of sleep looming.

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Thank you. I want to make sure I say it.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but kisses your shoulder. “You’re welcome, yeonin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You can’t wait. 

---

part two

---

© yoongihan 2025. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans. 

[botanphal]

THE VIVIBELLA BIBLE IS HERE AND IT’S QUEER

ENJOY

PREFACE

so you’re probably wondering. What is this weird sapphic tirade of 3K words? Well, this “note bible” was originally something I was going to keep for myself but figured others may want to see it too. This document is similar to a character bible, hence the name, except it’s more of a deep dive into two particular characters, strung out like notes. Please keep in mind that this document does not go into every idea I’ve had about these two but is more or less the basic ideas for the sake of consistency. This goes over canon and non-canon information which are separated so you know what’s true vs my own interpretations, though depending on which version of this post you’re reading, you may notice that there’s only canon information���which is more or less to let you have your own ideas from their purely canon-selves without the inspiration of my own non-canon ideas—the cut version of this document is also considerably smaller (1.7K). If you’re not on the canon cut version, then obviously the previous statement can be ignored. Regardless, I hope you have fun reading!

BOTANPHAL/PALIN’S VIVIBELLA BIBLE

LINKS

Just some links to their actual profiles for ease of access, as well as quotes and their theme music

Goombella:

https://www.mariowiki.com/Goombella

https://www.mariowiki.com/List_of_Goombella_quotes

https://youtu.be/1EmkKFaT7V4?si=erWshNwVBU5sfbo_

Vivian:

https://www.mariowiki.com/Vivian

https://www.mariowiki.com/List_of_Paper_Mario:_The_Thousand-Year_Door_quotes_by_character_(S–Z)

https://youtu.be/6WubRL1mPlQ?si=cY_tWs5TwyKZsr39

ESTABLISHING THE IDIOTS

let’s get down the gist of these sillies!

Goombella:

A junior at the university of Goom majoring in Archeology and seems to also consider herself a historian

- sassy, genuinely seems like she’d bite people’s fingers off sometimes

- nerd (but would backfire if you called her that given the note above)

- confident (of course, there are moments where she loses this but most of the time she seems rather self-actualized about things)

- kind, but does tend to poke fun at others (I can’t believe she called Koops cringe)

- curious

- knowledgeable (though she does make her mistakes regarding things like being fooled by Doopliss)

- excitable (after reading her dialogue over and over she uses a LOT of exclamation points. Girl calm down)

- kind of a hot head at times and jealous type, especially with how Ms. Mowz goes after Mario (Goombella definitely had a crush on him as well) and snaps back a lot though this could just be related to her mentioned sass

- this isn’t so much a character trait but she says “totally” a lot as well as “oh my gosh” which this one may be a catchphrase

Non-canon interpretations:

- has ADHD, needs meds or she loses her mind and becomes scrambled (top of the line “gifted” kid)

- possibly has a fear of heights given her comments at Hooktail’s castle making her nervous

- most Goombas seem to have two prominent fangs so I assume she’s missing one

- half Australian and half Maltese (has slightly an Australian accent but mostly sounds American)

- intersex, given Goombas are based off of mushrooms (and also chestnuts but I digress) and mushrooms are intersex, took estrogen to appear more feminine and identifies as a woman (this still applies to her gijinka, just that her species of demi-human is also all intersex)

- futch (femme/butch, will wear either or-or dress equal)

- has a lot of (unsuccessful) relationship experience which adds to her anxiety about her feelings for Vivian, specifically having dated three other people

- Full name is (Goom)Bellami Alessia Bones (Goom is a family title and not actually required to say, though she prefers to be called Bella than Bellami)

- 21 years old (while she has no confirmed age her being in her early 20s makes the most sense given she’s a Junior at university)

- has an earthy/dirt yet flowery scent

- has a cut on her right eyebrow

- loves savory flavors but occasionally enjoys spicy and sweet (Goombas have a main diet of meat so she tends to eat a lot of that)

- executive dysfunction sometimes causes her to not clean herself, but if someone complains then she will (she tends to carry around a perfume bottle)

- pansexual (possibly a coping lesbian)

- (gijinka) is missing the majority of her right forearm though she has a prosthetic for it (was born like that) and is missing almost all of her left arm aside for the shoulder (incidental)

- swears fairly often

Vivian:

Youngest of the three shadow sirens/sisters with the ability to use fire magic

- shy/somewhat reserved (opens up more later on, still shy but less reserved)

- cutesy (how the fuck did she speak with a heart symbol in one of her quotes)

- graceful

- polite

- sweet/kind (there should be no mistake to how far Vivian’s forgiveness goes considering she’s willing to forgive her own family that abused her for years—Vivian disowning them is not something Vivian herself would do)

- empathetic/sympathetic (I think about her random glitz pit dialogue a lot and how she worries if her and Mario did a bit too much on the enemies. But also she sometimes says “NO MERCY” she’s so silly)

- curious (moreso about most things being new to her due to being sheltered by her sisters for so long)

- submissive, though gains some confidence later on (this is just my own take but I feel like it’d take her longer than it does in-game to be more confident given the severity and length of abuse she experienced)

- struggles with an inferiority complex (this is actually a canon thing and made mention of) at the hands of her sisters abuse

- says “gee whiz” a lot, might be a catchphrase

- tends to stutter when nervous (possibly easy to fluster, especially considering she likely has not received a lot of compliments in her life)

Non-canon interpretations:

- possibly has athazagoraphobia (the fear of being forgotten) or just has general struggles with the concept

- given her trauma (mental/emotional abuse, unsure if there’s ever been physical though in one of the translations of the game Beldam apparently starved her, neglect from Marilyn), she probably would struggle with depression, anxiety and PTSD

- dysphoric, obviously feels better about herself the further into her transitioning (something about Vivian makes me feel like she’d struggle with dysphoria—it’s already a lesser discussed topic among fictional transwomen and given Vivian’s upbringing I think it’d make sense that she particularly has this and would make mention of it)

- she’s autistic and I can’t exactly explain why but someday I will (this very well could be projection uhhh. Anyway she probably doesn’t even know she has it or what it is, has had struggles to learn magic as the ways her sisters were trying to teach her weren’t working for her)

- demisexual-biromantic (I feel like it just makes sense for her to be this way given how she warms up to Mario and the same would apply to Goombella)

- has a beautiful singing voice partially learned from vocal training herself, however she is also called a shadow siren

- a piece of the Shadow Queen, her future

- has no exact ethnicity hc aside for being black as a gijinka, she’s something else entirely and can speak all languages (including sign language and braille) but mainly speaks English and Latin (if she were to be an actual human she’d be Eritrean and Sammarinese)

- femme (specifically loves to wear flowy things like dresses and skirts, the most “masculine” thing she’d wear is a suit)

- Has no full name, simply known as Vivian (if her and Goombella were to marry then she’d be Vivian Bones :flushed:)

- 20 years old

- has a smoldering lavender scent

- (gijinka) actually lost one of her legs while learning to veil, simply conjured up a convincing new one that she can freely remove

- can swear, refuses to do so (she’s too nice and polite the silly thing)

- is a pure-magical being so she requires frequent mana consumption to live, fire flowers are her favorite thing to use for this

- unaffected by fire and heat, can touch it without pain, body temperature is always high, only sweats when she’s sick, it’s very unusual for her to feel cold

- loves sweet, spicy and hot flavored things

- very clean, loves to shower or bathe (sometimes very atmospheric about it with hot water and candles)

- I like to think that she becomes a bookworm and wants to learn more about magic, but also reads up on psychology after the things she’s been put through

- shadow’s eyes are extremely sensitive to light, their hats have magical properties that keep them safe and shadow over them, without it she can only open her eyes in complete pitch-darkness, otherwise she keeps them closed (their gloves also work as buffers for their magic to make spells less intense, they’re sorta limiters in a way, Vivian especially has to wear them due to having fire powers and well… fire is commonly seen as destruction more than life)

- left handed, can use right okay

- knows how to cauterize wounds using her magic

- during new moons her appearance changes to more resemble the Shadow Queen, gaining more shades of purple and little stars speckling all over her, as well as having her eyes always shown

HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET HERE?

vivibella stems from Goombella’s tattle dialogue during the first battle with the three shadow sirens as shown:

note that this dialogue varies from the original GameCube version of the game compared to the Switch remake above:

unfortunate how the dialogue was nerfed compared to the original, making her seem jealous rather than having some kind of sapphic awakening but now I think of it as she’s deflecting what she’s feeling

DYNAMICS

- has a sort of opposites attract kinda thing going on, Goombella being the more open and expressive one while Vivian is the shy and reserved one

- enemies to friends to lovers

- love triangle (for the fact they both had a crush on Mario at one point but Goombella never seemed to be bothered by Vivian’s feelings for him unlike how she’s felt about the other women pining after him, she probably respects Vivian’s feelings for him given what he meant to her)

- the studier (Goombella) and one to be studied (Vivian) idk if there’s an actual name for this dynamic but I went into this concept a bit in this tweet:

- yapper x listener (I don’t think I have to explain who is who)

THAT ITALIAN GUY

Before we get into the meat of vivibella, it must be understood what Mario meant to these two. As it goes in TTYD, Mario for some reason is just a MAGNET for ladies and Goombella and Vivian are no exception to this, most of the female characters seem to express having a crush on him but let’s take a look at them individually:

Goombella particularly seems to fall under having a crush on him but she’s rather dismissive of it/acts like she doesn’t in a teasing way. She expresses jealousy whenever other female characters pursue him (think of Flurrie and Ms. Mowz, even speculates on Lady Bow post-game) but doesn’t with Vivian, likely due to the fact that Vivian doesn’t express her feelings for him around anyone (aside for the finale) considering during Chapter 4 it’s only her and Mario together when she kisses him—we don’t exactly know how Goombella would feel about Vivian’s feelings for Mario, but I think she’d probably be the most respectful to her given the things she’s been through and how Mario helped her open up and improve. During her letter to Mario at the end of the game, she talks about a “secret” which I imagine has to do with her crush on him, but she doesn’t follow through with it likely due to Mario’s pursuit of Peach

Vivian and Mario have a much deeper relationship compared to all the female characters that fall for him. Vivian definitely has a crush on him but also seems to actually be in love with him given the events that transpire; Mario helping her through her trauma and accepting her without question and also being a lending hand to someone in need despite his own troubles at the time of having lost his name, body and trusted companions. Even after realizing who he is and leaving given that he was her enemy at a certain point, she comes back upon realizing what he showed her and valued that over everything else as being the first person to EVER be kind to her. She turned her back on her family for him. During the final battle Vivian attempts to confess to him as well as during the end of the game when he’s leaving, but hesitates again due to the fact that she knows that he’d choose Peach and even thinks that the two would make a great couple. I’m sure it would be hard for Vivian to move on from him, he’s probably the first person she’s ever loved in such a way and again, he’s the first person to show her real kindness

THINKING TOO HARD

Goombella is obviously the one to crush first given her tattle dialogue, she may be kinda sassy about her feelings for her when teased by others but when she’s actually around Vivian she’s more reserved and anxious due to her shy and gentle nature, in some ways I feel like she may fear possibly scaring Vivian away by being too forward and is also afraid of the possible rejection as she’s aware of Vivian’s feelings for Mario despite him eventually not being in the picture (and of course possibly being unaware to the fact that Vivian is bi). Goombella’s probably very likely a girlfail and a fumbler when it comes to flirting but god if she isn’t confident about it and Vivian finds it endearing. I think it makes the most sense for her to confess later on as I’m sure she probably reaches some form of boiling point and just drops all her words out after being unable to hide it anymore (Vivian doesn’t like to assume things about others typically so that’s why I don’t see her confessing first instead)

Goombella falls first but I feel like Vivian would fall harder as the two of them grow closer, Vivian already experienced rejection from Mario so in some ways she probably wasn’t expecting to find successful love anytime soon nor in a more similar way to how Mario was with her. Of course, Goombella isn’t exactly like him at all but the kindness and patience is still there, albeit with some attitude which Vivian doesn’t mind. I think it would take a bit for Vivian to catch onto Goombella and her own feelings given her experience with Mario. This being her second experience with love, she’s definitely very inexperienced regarding all of it which is why she holds back. With my hc of Goombella having been through her own form of transition, a lot of comfort is to be found there for Vivian as they’re somewhat similar due to that. I don’t think Vivian really knows how to flirt but she’d give lots of compliments and do gestures, she’s also a girlfail but in a graceful way and tries not to show it, she’s kinda a secret dork (and I mean. With the fact she stutters when nervous. There isn't anyway this girl isn't also a girlfail of her own like come on now)

Regarding my own lore, I like to think that these two live together in Goombella’s Uni dorm after the events of TTYD. Vivian switches on Fridays to live with her sisters then back with Goombella the following Friday so on and so forth to help rebuild a healthy connection with them while with Goombella she explores herself given she’s been stuck with her sisters for so long. Their situation isn’t helped by the fact that they have to share a bed due to the limitations of Goombella’s Uni dorm size, though it is fancier as it’s more like an apartment with separate rooms, (basically consists of two small bedrooms, the other bedroom being her roommate’s, a living space and kitchen combo as well as a bathroom) still small though

Goombella tends to go to Flurrie for advice regarding her feelings for Vivian, while Vivian goes to Lady Bow after forming a friendship sometime after TTYD’s events. I also like to think that Flurrie and Lady Bow end up coming together to scheme about the two of them (neither are aware of this until they start dating)

Their relationship builds off of living together and Vivian learning about herself, Goombella there to guide her as someone who already knows her own life and the steps she took to get to where she’s at—the two spend a lot of time together obviously and Goombella strives to try and get something out of the two of them than just a friendship given her own growing feelings, even if it takes being more patient

Even on the weeks when Vivian’s living with her sisters Goombella tends to visit her and hang out, sometimes sleeping over as well. Vivian along the way starts to realize how Goombella’s care for her is much deeper than she originally thinks it is—in some ways Vivian already feels inspired by someone like her who is so confident and self assured, she could use someone like her to give her a nudge in the right direction

They probably even go out on adventures together which further strengthens their bond, which of course may stir up trouble and that leaves room for needing to rely on each other or help each other in such times of need (who doesn’t love some hurt and comfort mmmm)

CLOSING STATEMENT

Anyway, that’s really all I have though I have a feeling that even AFTER publishing this I’ll be still tweaking this until the day I die. I love these two very much if that uh….. Isn’t obvious at all. uh huh. I hope you gained some kind of enjoyment and understanding out of all this gay nonsense from these strange little sapphic creatures that have been rotting my brain for months :3

the canon version of this post will come out soon! This just took so long to do I’m going to explode rn

[imbaebi]

 The girl at a coffee shop.

ִֶָ࣪☾. B.C x femoc —

tags: idol!chan, coffeeshopowner!oc, sweet fluff, crushes

warnings: light swearing

wc / cc: 4.8k / 27.5k

Synopsis —---

Lollapalooza, a rather famous music event brings two people together. Fate you should say... Will the Idol really pursue a relationship with her?

—-- ⪩⪨⪩⪨

   “Hyung, we've been walking for like hours” Jisung complained. Chan rolled his eyes, it hadn't even been thirty minutes.

    They were currently in Chicago for Lollapalooza. The festival was tomorrow so the boys were doing their own things, being tourists. Chan was with Jisung who was already trying to get Chan to buy him a coffee. Luckily for him, there was a shop up ahead that said "Eggy's coffee", so he would be able to shut the kid up.

    Chan sucked his teeth. “We'll get you your coffee, Jisung-ah. There's a coffee shop right there.”

    Jisung made happy noises, losing all the tiredness that he was portraying making Chan shake his head.

⪩⪨

    Dina had this coffee shop for about three years, so the decorations were to her liking. There were lots of anime posters around and it had a overall cool vibe to it. Most of her regulars around knew her as Eggy, that's what she went by. Only some people, close people knew her as Dina. Like her staff for instance; Jazzy, Shanda and Bee. They were all close friends after working together for three years—except Jazzy, she's been working here for two years.

    Dina wiped down the counters, today was a bit slow. They only had five people come in, but it was still pretty early—it being 9 am—so it was fine.

    “Shanda, could you refill the sugar packets on table three?” Dina asked, still wiping the counter.

    “On it, Egg.”

    Bee and Jazzy were in the back, baking muffins, croissants and fruit tarts. They didn't have many baked goods since this placed was solely based on coffee but it was nice to have a few things.

    Dina had finished wiping the counter when the little bell indicating customers rang. She wiped her hands on her cute Rengoko  apron. All the staff had to wear Demon Slayer themed aprons, it was required. Dina looked up and almost froze when she saw the man in front of her. Wow... That was an understatement... Who was this pretty Korean man and why did he have to look like he stepped off a cover of a magazine? And he looked like he worked out. Damn, God are you trying to make me kill myself? Dina blinked remembering that time did not stop when this man walked in.

    “Welcome to Eggy's coffee, I'm Eggy. What could I get for you two?” She tried to speak as pleasant as possible. But it was quite difficult when someone so attractive suddenly came in with no warning and now you have to try to keep your voice as even as possible.

    “Ehm. One moment, please.” He smiled softly. Damn she just melted. She took note of his accent. Australian, perhaps?

    He turned to his friend, or possible partner? She wasn't homophobic that's for sure. He spoke to him in a language which she assumed was Korean. His friend had a slight smug look, she could only wonder why.

⪩⪨

    Chan and Jisung entered the coffee shop. It was decorated in anime posters, two sofas with different anime pillows and Jojo bizarre adventure themed rug. This place was so Jisung, he could already feel the excitement bouncing off Jisung.

There was a woman in a Shinobu themed apron, refilling the sugar packet despenser at a nearby table. Chan had only knew it was Shinobu because he watched a couple episodes of Demon Slayer with Felix.

    Jisung was staring around, he was probably in heaven right now.. Chan noticed another woman, working at the counter. Her apron was Rengoko themed. He couldn't help but watch as she wiped her hands on her apron. There was something about her that was drawing him in.. She was quite pretty. Him and Jisung head up to the counter and Chan got a closer look and realized pretty was a whole understatement, she was beautiful. Her box braids had beads at the ends, matching her apron completely. He thought that the apron complimented her dark skin perfectly. He could of stared at her all day but she spoke up.

    “Welcome to Eggy's coffee, I'm Eggy. What can I get you two?” She spoke making him remember that they were here to order some coffee and not stare at pretty women.

    “Ehm. One moment, please.” He smiled awkwardly. He turned to Jisung who gave him a teasing grin. Jisung had definitely caught the way he looked her, totally mesmerized..

    “What do you want?” He asked in Korean.

    

    “What's with that look?” Jisung raised his eyebrows a bit, in a teasing way.

    “What are you talking about?”

    “You know what I'm talking about.”

    “Dude, shut up. You have to choose something. Wait why am I even bothering?” He remembered that Jisung was fluent enough to order himself a coffee. “Order yourself.”

    He turned back to the woman who was watching them curiously. He was kinda glad she didn't understand.

    “Uhm sorry about that..” Chan said sheepishly. His ears felt red. They probably were..

    “No, you're good.”

    Chan turned to Jisung, who still had that look on his face.

    “Hello, Can I have a iced caramel latte?”

    Chan usually was one to get an Expresso but today he was willing to try something different.

    “What do you recommend?” Maybe it was just a sorry excuse to get her to talk again...

⪩⪨

    Dina was a little surprised to hear the other guy speak in a British accent. She hadn't been expecting that.

    She was kind of put on the spot when he asked her what she would recommend. Um. She started to panic inside.

    “Cloud matcha latte?” Her voice sounded so uncertain. Why was Bee's go to the first to come to mind?

    And, it was like the mention of her favorite coffee summoned her or something; Bee came from the back, surprisingly no flour on her Muichiro apron like she usually had. Her hair was pulled back in a half up due. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, a way of asking if Dina needed any help. Dina slightly nodded. She quickly told Bee to make an iced caramel latte. She turned back to the two men.

    “Or I can suggest a frosty vanilla bean latte.” That was her go to.

    “Which one's your favorite?” Was he flirting with her? It was like his dark brown eyes were dazzling her. Oh my gosh. Maybe I should just kill myself right here right now.

    “Frosty vanilla bean latte..” Dina basically murmured. Get a grip girl.

    “Then I'll have one of those.” He smiled. He looked so cute. She noticed one of his dimples was more prominent than the other, extra cute.

    “Sure.. Name for order?” She remembered to ask. She could literally forget how to do her job since this man was making her feel fuzzy.

    “Chris.” He answered. It suited him quite well.

    “And would that be together or separate?” Dina asked, moving closer to the register.

    “I'll pay for both.” Dina put in the price.

    “That'll be fourteen eightie-five. Cash or card?”

    “Card.” He pulled out his wallet, pulling out a credit card. He held it out to her and she took it. She also took note of his arm, she could see the vains popping out a bit... Oh wow now she was wet. Not good.

    She couldn't help but look at name on the card, Chahn Bahng. That was his Korean name, Chris was his English name she assumed. Chahn Bahng, the attractiv— no. She gave him card back.

    Dina got started making the frosty vanilla bean latte and the two men went to sit at a table. Shanda came up to her, her curly afro bouncing a bit.

    “Someone looks a little whipped for a certain customer.” Shanda teased her.

    “Do you want me to kill myself?” Dina hissed. “Shut up, he might hear you!”

    Shanda giggled and headed to the back room, probably going to tell Jazzy about their manger making heart eyes to one of their customers. To be honest she was quite disappointed when she finished making Chris' drink and when Bee finished the other guy's drink. They probably weren't going to see them anymore.. From the looks, they seemed like tourists since they didn't have Chicago vibe. Probably came for that music festival, Lollapalooza.

    “Chris?" His name fell delicately off her tongue, he looked up from his conversation. Usually she wasn't this bad at giving customers their drinks. “Your order's ready.”

⪩⪨

“Chris?” Her voice soft. His name sounded amazing coming from her. He did notice that she didn't have that Chicago accent that everyone else seemed to have. He couldn't help but wondered where she was from. “Your order's ready.”

Him and Jisung got up to take their coffees. Chan didn't want to leave just yet.. He didn't know if he would ever see her again due to his busy schedule and him living on the other side of the world.

    “You're not from here, are you?” He asked before taking a sip. It was quite sweet, not something he'd usually enjoy but for some reason he was enjoying it today.

    “No. How'd you guess?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows.

    “You don't really talk like the people who live here.”

She chuckled, it sounded beautiful to his ears. “I was born and raised in Florida. Bee and I moved up here three years ago.” She gestured to the woman that made Jisung's latte. “And what about you?”

    “I was born and raised in Australia. But I've been living in South Korea for some years now.”

    “ah. So what brings you to Chicago? Lollapalooza I assume?” He almost froze. Did she know who he was? He chuckled and scratched the back of his hair.

    “You could say that.”

    She looked a little curious but she didn't pry. How could he even tell her that he was part of a Korean boy band, that millions of followers that were his babygirls? That's not something you could casually bring up, especially with a stranger you met not even an hour ago. He did wish though that they could be more than strangers...

    “Your coffee shop is really cool, mind if we take a couple of pictures?” He knew Jisung was itching to take pictures for his insta, so might as well ask just to keep the conversation somewhat going.

    “I don't mind at all.”

⪩⪨

    She felt giddy, he thought her coffee shop was cool. A lot of customers thought the shop was cool but hearing it come from such a gorgeous man made her feel butterflies. She watched as the two men took pictures for each other. She noticed his friend—she found out his name was Jisung, since Chris asked Jisung where he wanted to take a picture—mostly took of himself whereas Chris took pictures of the cafe. She wondered if he had a social media account, but she wasn't going to ask since that was too straight forward. When they were done taking their photos, Chris came up to the counter again.

    “Thanks for letting us take pictures, Eggy.” He smiled his cute dimpled smile.

    “Dina...” She murmured. He looked at her a bit confused, which made her snap out of her dreamlike state. “Erm. Just call me Dina. And it's no problem.”

    She could already feel the knowing look from Bee. She heard the door leading to the backroom open and then close. Dina knew the second these two left, she was gonna get bombarded with questions...

    “Yeah, thank again Dina.” He said. “When do you guys close?”

    “Eight am to eight eight pm. But that's only Monday through Saturday. And on Sundays it's 11 am to eight-thirty pm.” She had wishful hope that he would come visit again... “Thinking about visiting again?”

    He chuckled sheepishly. “Maybe. Are you here through all open hours?”

    “God, no. I usually work the afternoon shifts but I'm only here this early is because we had a big shipment and I needed to supervise.”

    “Ah, I see. Well I guess I'll have to come back here in the afternoons before I have to fly back.”

    Her hopes went sky-high, he definitely wanted to see her again. Was he interested in her? Oh what luck if that was it.

    “When are you flying back?” She asked before she could stop herself. Why did she have to ask such a question. Before she could say he didn't have to answer,

    “Monday.”

⪩⪨

Why was he telling her so much? She could be a fan pretending to not know him and so that she could sneak onto the plane. But for some reason, he felt like he could trust her with anything. He and Jisung unfortunately had to say their goodbyes because they had a last minute fitting today. He watched as she smiled her pretty smile and waved at them.

    Jisung and Chris made their way back to the hotel. On their way to the hotel, Chan pulled out his phone and saw on his notification wall that he had a bunch of messages. That was strange. He unlocked it and found that their group chat that was for him and his bandmates was currently going crazy. This usually happened when there was a fight or a something serious was going on. Chan opened it up and read the messages. Oh my God he was gonna kill Jisung.

    “Jisung-ah, what the fuck!” He whined. Jisung only responded in giggles.

    Jisung had told every about his new crush. Now everyone was at-ing him, asking questions of this girl. Dammit now he had to deal with everyone once they reached the hotel. But unfortunately for him...

    

    “Chan-hyung!!” Across the street, Felix and Jeongin were waving at them. What fucking luck.

    The two younger ones jogged over with raised eyebrows and smug smiles.

    “Chan hyung has a crush~” was literally the first thing they said. They two started taunting him and Jisung joined in. Chan's ears turned red. He started walking away, towards the hotel and they followed him like annoying puppies..

    “Who was she?” Jeongin asked. But he already knew that she was the owner of the coffee shop they visited. Jisung left out no details.

    “I'm pretty sure Jisung already told you.” Chan muttered, his ears still tinted red.

    “Was she pretty, Hyung?” Jeongin teased.

    “Very.” Chan answered truthfully.

    “Did you feel butterflies, like how they portray in the movies?” Felix asked.

    “Maybe.”

    “Are you going to see her again?”

    “Probably..”

    “Are you going to ask her out?”

    Why was he even answering their questions? Chan flushed. He probably could ask her out since their dating ban has been lifted for almost two years now. But how would he? He wasn't even sure if she was interested in him. And besides he hadn't been in the dating game for years now so he probably lost whatever game he had before.

    The whole walk back to the hotel, these three were bothering and teasing him. But he ignored them, which caused them to eventually leave him alone by the time they got to the hotel..

⪩⪨

    Once Chan and Jisung left, the back room door opened and her friends came out. They all have her knowing looks. Dina sighed knowing what was coming.

    ““call me Dina”? Wow, that was fast. It took our loyalest costumers two years before they got to know your actual name,” Jazzy teased.

    “You were staring so hard, your eyes turned into hearts like in the cartoons.” Bee giggled, while making hearts with her fingers.

    “Someone's in love.” Shanda smiled. “Can't blame her, he was fine.”

    “And he was totally making heart eyes at you too!”

    Dina looked at Bee. “Really?”

    “Yeah! You didn't notice?”

    “She obviously didn't notice, she was too much in the clouds, couldn't even take his order properly.” Shanda joked.

    “Hey. I took his order, I didn't make any mistakes!” Dina frowned. “You guys are bullies. This is out right bullying.”

    Shanda, Jazzy and Bee just laughed.

    Jazzy leant against the counter. “So, did you get his number or anything?” she asked.

    Dina shook her head. Maybe she should have been bold and at least ask for any socials. And the disappointed looks on her friends faces didn't make her feel any better.

    “Well that's unfortunate.” Bee pouted. “He was really cute too. And so was his friend.”

    The girls didn't have time to sulk for costumers started to show up. Back to work for them...

    It's was a busy day after that. They had quite a lot of people coming to order and taking pictures. Dina was quite confused by the lots of tourists that came, but she wasn't complaining. But she and Bee had to stay for the whole day since there were too many people for just Shanda and Jazzy to take care. Soon the day came to an end and they all were exhausted. The girls were chatting and cleaning, getting ready to lock up. It was quite crazy how busy today was. It was a great day although her friends were still sulking over the lost opportunity. 

    “Didn't he say he'll try to visit again?” Dina nodded, answering Shanda's question. “Then if he does, you better ask for his number or something!”

    “He seems quite familiar to me.. can't seem to place him though.” Bee asked, pausing her mopping.

    “Maybe he looks similar to someone you know.”

    “Yeah.. maybe.”

    The girls quickly finished the chores, wanting to go to their beds and lie down after the busy day. Then Dina locked up the shop. She already knew she was going to sleep until the afternoon, an hour before her shift starts...

⪩⪨

    There were lots going on around him, vocal warm ups, the kids getting their makeup on, last minute fitting, staff preparing things and casual conversations this Friday night. Chan was sitting, getting his makeup done. His thoughts, he tried to keep them in track on the performance he was about to do. But Dina somehow kept coming up. He thought about her every waking hour. It's like he couldn't forget about her. Always interfering in his thoughts. And always, a rosy feeling following after those thoughts and that said feeling was quite foreign to him. He was deep in thought when his stylist told him she was done with his makeup. He thanked and took out his phone. The stylist noona gave him a concerned look, so he pretended nothing was wrong by going on his phone. I mean nothing was wrong right? He needed a distraction... He went on TikTok, stalking STAYs since that's what he liked to do during his free time.

    He was quiet surprised and confused. STAYs had somehow found Dina's Coffee shop. He hadn't even tagged the location neither had Jisung... Wow that was quite scary actually. Yeah maybe TikTok wasn't a good distraction.. Chan turned off his phone with a sigh. He decided to finish drinking the rest of the coffee his manager got him. He had specifically requested coffee from Eggy's coffee. He got another frosty vanilla bean latte. Yeah yeah go ahead and make fun of him. Even his manager gave him a weird look for asking for the drink earlier since it wasn't something he typically ordered. The last of the sweet drink was all gone. He sighed once again. His bandmates looked at him, a concerned look on their faces.

    Fortunately, their manager called. 10 minutes till stage. Chan had an excuse to ignore their concerned looks and went to go check on everything with the staff. There were cameras again. They usually had cameras recording, for their lollapalooza BTS video or for any event in general. While Chan got up to do finally check ups, Jisung spoke to one of the cameras, Seungmin and Felix goofed around, Minho did vocal warm ups, Hyunjin did breathing exercises and Changbin got some makeup touches. He could tell everyone was a little nervous since this was a pretty big show. But he knew they'd do amazing like always. And sooner than they all thought, it was five minutes till stage. Chan gathered the group together, giving them all a pep talk and going through last minute things.

    “Okay, we're going to crush the stage. You'll all do fine, I'm confident. Have fun, go crazy and make sure you don't get hurt, stay safe. We got this everyone.” and to end, they did their group cheer.

    They all got into position. Chan took a deep breath. He was confident, and his secret motivation;

pretend she was out there, watching.

⪩⪨

    Just like she assumed yesterday, she did wake up an hour before her shift started. She quickly ran around her apartment getting ready. She didn't bother getting breakfast since she owned a coffee shop and could easily get breakfast there.

    When she arrived at the coffee shop, she found Bee already at the counter, taking an order. Dina quickly went to the back room and tied her Rengoku apron on. The back room kitchen smelled of muffins, both blueberry and cinnamon. She took a muffin right of the tray, it was warm. Bee or Jazzy must of baked these earlier... Dina quickly ate the muffin, gaining a tad bit of energy from the sweetness. She washed her hands and went out to the front to help Bee.

    The shop kept her busy. She had hope that he would show up today. But as the day went on, she lost some of that hope. She didn't have that usually ray of color to her personality with the costumers. Bee noticed and so did the regulars.

    “You okay?” Bee had asked her when the shop was quiet.

    Dina quickly nodded and gave her a smile. And before Bee could pry, Dina gave her an excuse having to go check on their emails. When Dina was in the small office by herself, she frowned. She made her way to the computer, might as well check on the emails...

    

    Dina sighed as she locked up for the night. He hasn't showed up at all. Oh well. There was always tomorrow.

    He wasn't there next day. Or the after that. Maybe she had gotten her hopes up too high. He'd be leaving tomorrow, that's what was repeating through her mind all the way back to her apartment. She really was mad at herself for not taking the chance and getting his number. He seemed really cool too.

    Dina unlocked the door to her apartment. She had barely stepped into her home when her phone started blowing up. She fumbled in her tote bag, looking for the device. She pulled her phone out, it was the group chat.

Bee had been spamming TikTok links and sent an insta post.

Beechrio <: DINZ I FOUND YOUR MAN😵‍💫😳

Beechrio <: NO WODER HE LOOKED SO FAMILWR

shanobu <: OMG IT IS HIM 🙀

Jazziko <: NO WAY

Dina stared in shock, the instagram post was Chris in her coffee shop. The post had over 900k likes! Who was this man? She couldn't help but stalk his ig... He had to be a model or something... With shaky hands she searched up his name. She read the first thing that showed up, He was in a kpop group called Stray Kids and he was also the leader of that said group. She couldn't believe she just casually met someone this famous and that he possibly had been flirting with her.

    She went back on the group chat which was still going crazy with her three friends raving about the group. She clicked on the first link that Bee has sent. It was an edit, from Lollapalooza. So that answered her questions to his vague answer... She went through the other links Bee had sent, watching with semi wide eyes. She also went through the comments, and found out he had a pretty wild fanbase... She didn't realize she had been scrolling through edits for about ten minutes now until she glanced at the time. Her head felt empty at this new found information. She needed to get ready for bed... She quickly got something to eat, heating up some leftovers from yesterday. She snarfed it down and then got something to drink. Then she went to her room and started getting ready for the night, puting her phone on DND since her friends were still chatting about in the chat. She went through all the steps of her night routine carefully. Once she was under her sheets, she sighed and hugged the pillow besides her. Just when she thought she could be in a relationship. She buried her face in the pillow, flustered from all those edits she had watched earlier. She remembered how his vains went up his arm as he handed her his card, his dimpled smile and laugh. She was sad and a little annoyed at the thought that there was no way he could be with her. She knew how crazy kpop fanbases were...

    That night she couldn't sleep, he was in every thought of hers...

    Dina had come into the shop late, this Sunday afternoon. She felt annoyed by the lack of sleep, she could barely function. It was unfair that he swirled everywhere in her thoughts but there was nothing she could do about it. Dina was mostly silent during her shift, Bee didn't even pry, letting her have her space. She just wanted to go home and sleep. The hours went by slowly. It was nearing the closing time. The coffee shop didn't have many costumers on Sunday evenings. She frowned as she looked out the window. Evening... He should be flying back now. He hadn't come visit once more. It was never a guaranteed he would visit the shop again... Yet why did it kinda hurt?

    “Hey.” Dina jumped slightly at Bee's voice. Where had she even come from?

    “Yeah?”

    “You look tired. Maybe you should go home early. I can lock up.”

    “Are you sure?” Dina tilted her head.

    “We barely get any costumers during this time on Sunday.. I can handle the shop, it's only an hour before closing. I'll be fine. Go home. Rest.”

    Dina looked at her, she felt bad leaving Bee alone when she had come into work late and now she was going to leave early?

    “Just go, Dina! You need rest!” Bee said pushing her towards the back room to get her stuff.

    “Alright, alright! I'll go home. No need to shove me, you prick.” Dina went to get her stuff and put her apron away.

    To be honest, her bed did sound nice right now. Dina said a goodbye to Bee before she exited the shop. The sun had set a few minutes ago. Dina looked up to the clear sky, the waxing crescent looking down on her. The air was cool on her exposed shoulders, it being 73°F.  Time to go home...

    “Dina!” A voice called out to her, making her stop in the tracks she barely began.

⪩⪨

    “Dina!” He called out to her. It seemed she was nearing to leave. But they don't close until eight-thirty on Sundays... Was something wrong?

    Dina turned around, a puzzle yet surprised look on her face.

    “Chris?”

    Chan jogged up to her. He smiled at her, he was glad he caught her before she left, he didn't know when he would ever see her again if he hadn't.

    “What are you doing here?” Her tone matched her puzzled face.

    “Do you not want me here?” He couldn't help but tease.

    “What? No I do... That's not what I meant. Didn't you say your flight leaves this evening?”

    “Yeah, I did.. but it got rescheduled to tomorrow.”

    “Oh.” She simply said.

    A bit of silence loomed over them before Dina spoke up again.

    “Did you come here for a coffee? The shop's not closed yet. I could make you something.”

    “Thank you for the offer. But I actually came here to see you one last time before I go. There's something I want to tell you. And there's something I want to ask you as well.”

    She looked at him, curious of what he wanted to say.

    “Well. Uh. You see, I'm in this group called Stray Kids—”

    “I know. I found out yesterday.” She interrupted softly.

    Well, it was bound to happen...

    “Oh. Well that makes it a tad bit easier...”

    Confusion appeared on her face again, he knew she had no idea what he was talking about.

    “You said there's something you wanted to ask me as well?”

    “Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. He had rehearsed what wanted to say at the hotel but his mind went blank. Damn, time to wing it.

    “I know we kinda just met.. but you're really pretty and I wanted to get to know you better. Truth be told, I can't stop thinking about you.”

    She was silent for a little bit before she spoke, her voice soft as the night's cool air.

    “I can't stop thinking about you either. And I'd like to get know you too.” Her dark brown eyes sparkled by the lights that shone from the shop's windows.

    Chan felt his heart flutter. Maybe this was the start of something amazing...

...

Should I continue this? :]

[rwrbmovie]

the category is journalists writing the intros to their pieces about their interviews with both nick & taylor:

(text version under the cut)

EW | The Awardist:

Teen Vogue:

GQ:

EW | The Awardist:

From the moment they both enter the virtual video chat to talk about their 2023 smash-hit rom-com Red, White & Royal Blue, Nicholas Galitzine and Taylor Zakhar Perez are roasting each other, throwing out playful jabs.Their friendship and connection are undeniable, and it's immediately evident that the bond they share in Matthew López's movie, based on Casey McQuiston's enormously popular book of the same name, extends off camera as well.

Teen Vogue:

Red, White & Royal Blue stars Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzine couldn’t be less serious. In conversation, the banter is endless, the charm off the charts. They’re currently embroiled in a discussion about New Zealand vs. Australia. Zakhar Perez refers to New Zealand in conjunction with the “naur” meme and H2O Just Add Water, famously an Australian show, and it sets Galitzine spinning into laughter — before he schools his costar in the dynamic between the two countries.There’s something of a schoolboy zest, darting wherever their brain cells move them in conversation, that makes you think of the cheeky conversations had over the trash can at school, sharpening pencils over and over again to gossip. They jokingly narrate the opening of our interview, even though we’re on a Zoom: “This is Taylor and I’m done talking,” Zakhar Perez throws down, and Galitzine picks it up, “Hi I’m Nick, I’m about to start speaking.”

GQ:

Afternoon tea requires a level of decorum. But in a South Kensington hotel so posh there’s no sign outside, Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzine gleefully ignore the unspoken rules of etiquette when the latter pulls out his phone. “I need to find this video!” Galitzine says, feverishly swiping his screen. “I’m sorry, it’s my favourite video on TikTok.” Given the international nature of the story, we’ve been talking about accents – specifically, about whether Galitzine, who is British, had to adopt a more aristocratic inflection – when he turned the question around. “Are you Scottish?” he asked. (I am.) The revelation ignited something in his brain, and soon he was scouring TikTok. Galitzine is practically vibrating when he finally finds his prized clip. In it, two enraged young Scots lose it when a countryman claims that they pronounce “pie” as “peh.” “SHUT YOUR MOUTH, I HATE YEEEH!” one guy yells, face vermillion. It’s so, so dumb. It’s also hilarious. Zakhar Perez, 31, and Galitzine, 28, fold over and giggle, far too occupied to realise that the phone is on full blast in a tiny room filled with rich tourists. A group of suited Italians not-so-quietly mumble their annoyance from the next table, and Galitzine quickly offers an embarrassed apology.

[charliedawn]

so since I know now that Kevin is Australian. What about the Hannibals with a reader who really loves their voice? Like just loves hearing them talks and it makes them a little flustered sometimes. i vaguely remember a similar ask being sent in but I don’t know if I just imagined that or not.

Peter beamed at you.

"You like my voice ? Aww…Thank you so much. I like your voice too. It’s really cute."

Peter would blush and be very happy about it. He would also compliment you back and go on and on about how you have the best voice in the world. When he was little he had a very high-pitched voice that made him sound like a girl and he used to get self-conscious about it. He was rather quiet back then and it’s only when he hit puberty that he started gaining confidence and talking more. So any compliment about his voice would make him really happy.

Kevin stared at you as if you had just told him the earth was flat.

"You kiddin’, right ? I sound like a drunken sailor whose already got three children and who nurses his beers at night…You seriously find my voice attractive ?"

Kevin is really insecure about his voice. He has a really pronounced accent. A very noticeable one that he is working hard to get rid off. It is not easy to be the only Australian in a family of British or American-English speaking people. Especially since he thinks Morgan has a perfect-sounding voice compared to his. If you complimented his voice, he would think you are making fun of him and be defensive immediately.

"Arg Arg. Yeah. Bugger off, yeah ?"

Morgan smirked smugly when you told him.

"Do I ? I have never noticed…" He replied in the most nonchalant manner possible, even though he perfectly knows how perfect his voice is. Morgan is a high scholar. He is a genius. He is confidence incarnate. His main concern in life is to learn as much as possible and to reach the Hannibal-required level of perfection. Hannibal Jr. is the first son and a model to all. Morgan dreams of becoming him. So he would exercise his voice to sound as smooth and beautiful as possible…you attract flies better with honey, don’t you ?

Hannibal Jr. knows he has excellent diction and a poised voice—calm and serene. But because he trained his voice to sound the way it does. He had personal trainers hired by Hannibal Sr. and various speech lessons when he was little. Besides, he is a psychologist. His job is 90% knowing how to keep his cool and to sound as reassuring as possible to his patients. When you told him you liked his voice, he smiled and without looking up from his notes he replied:

"I know, love. My voice is the main reason why I still have patients."

…Even though he obviously killed a lot of them.

"Thank you, little lamb. Voice is quite important…" He winked at you and chuckled.

Hannibal Sr. has a deep and gravely voice due to his age. He also knows that being quiet is important so he may not talk a lot, but because he knows that talking too much is a disadvantage. He likes to leave people guessing and when he uses his voice—it is usually to read to himself. He likes books and knows that the best way to do a book justice is by using one’s voice to make the words come alive. He would be more than happy to read to you and enjoy having conversations with you if you want to hear him speak some more.

[resi4skz]

THE CONTEST (Pt 1)

Synopsis: you discover skz in 2023 and you life hasn't been the same. You enter a contest and your life takes an exciting turn.

Pairing: idol!Chan x fem!Reader

Warnings: none for this one!

It had been just over a year that you had become a STAY. And you had loved every new things about Stray Kids. To their smiles, their handsome looks, learning their names and who was the oldest to the youngest, and watching all of their music videos. You tried to catch up from their pre-debut but there was so much content to watch that you had to put a pause on the watching and mainly focused on the new content.

You also changed your twitter into a fan account, sharing, reposting and posting about how hot or cute the members were. You found their music healing, in a way because a year ago, you weren't in the right state of mind. You were mentally exhausted by life giving you shit, so much that you were actually thinking about ending it all. Even your life at one point.

Last year in April, you were crying one sunday early morning and decided to browse youtube because that's what you did when nothing else worked. You were going down the live broadcast list when someone caught your eye. 'Chan's room ep. 208.' A young man sitting on a chair with a black couch in the back, looking very handsome as he talked to, what seemed like were his fans. You immediately picked on the language he was speaking because of the amount of korean dramas you had watched.

You snuggled back into your blanket, his words of encouragement soothed your heart as you watched him through your laptop screen. Your eyes lit up as you heard him talk in english. And was that an Australian accent? You watched him talk about the next comeback him and his group will have, sometime in June. You were curious to find more about the group and luckily one of the comments displayed 'Stray Kids.'

You picked up your phone and searched for the name. Immediately, a group of 8 men popped up as one by one you searched each of their names to know who was who. And for some reason you went from youngest to oldest without realizing. So when you typed Bang Chan in the search bar, the same man popped up from the youtube livestream. "It's him," you said, flicking your eyes on the laptop screen just as he smiled and laughed. Your heart skipped a beat and it has never done that.

And then you watch as he stands up, saying 'big hug' hugging the screen. It tugged at your heart as he sits back down. "Bye stays, baby stays, see you next time!" He holds up a peace sign by his eye, does a winky face and clicks his tongue before the livestreams ends.

Fresh tears flow down your cheeks as a sob escapes your lips. That hug felt warm to you and yet distant which the thought of it now had you bawling your eyes out. You search up Stray Kids on youtube and start watching a bunch of videos.

An hour later, you were clutching your stomach from laughing so hard. How did you ever go about your day without knowing these boys? You even watched their music videos which blew your mind at each one. You went on your twitter and searched up the name and a bunch of posts about their upcoming comeback and where to buy the albums.

Your eyelids fell heavy and soon darkness enveloped your mind. This time no nightmares occurred, except a certain black haired man with dimples.

------------------------------------------------------------

There had been a rumour going around that for their second comeback for 2023, they were going to be doing a contest for a lucky STAY (while others did fancalls). The only requirements was how many albums or merch you had of Stray Kids. But you had done neither which put you in a tough spot.

You had very badly wanted to participate but you were a 23 yr old trying to save up for a solo trip to South Korea. Maybe even scout areas for a permanent move. So far you had saved up about $2500 and planning to save up more. As for the contest, you had put your phone number down in the category of being picked randomly in case you got a call.

You were on your lunch break at work when your phone rang. Putting your sandwich down, you glance at the screen as it showed up a number you didn't recognize. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Y/N?" A female voice asked.

"Yes, who's this?"

"This is Yu Won from JYPE."

You blinked. "Sorry?"

"You put your phone number to get licked randomly for a fancall and for the contest?"

"Oh my g...yeah, did I get picked?!" Excitement filled your veins.

"Yes. We would like to invite you for a fancall with one of the Stray Kids members and at the end of the call, you will be asked which option you prefer to do."

"Okay! Thank you!" You smile.

She gave you instructions over the phone plus sent you an email too. The fancall would happen after the comeback in November. It was end of October so maybe you didn't have to wait long.

------------------------------------------------------------

You sat waiting patiently in front of your phone, hair in loose waves and light makeup. Your dog whined at your feet. "Nora, not right now, okay? I'll take you out later." Your dog, a golden retriever, laid down beside your feet. You rolled your eyes. "Okay, drama queen. Come on," you tapped your lap and she excitedly jumped in lap.

You look up and see Chan beaming, a smile on his lips. Your eye widen. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

"It's quite alright. I just came on and you were talking to your dog, I didn't want to disturb."

"Sorry, she gets anxious if I'm doing something that doesn't involve her," you nervously explain. You notice his hair was turning into a copper color.

He laughs. "It's quite alright. My dog is the same."

"I've seen Berry from your vlogs and she seems such a nice and obedient dog. Very cute."

"That she is."

"Just like her dad," you giggle.

He covers his mouth, giggling also. "Thank you for the compliment."

"Congrats on the comeback! I love all of your songs!"

"Thanks! Which was your favorite?" He asked, genuinely curious to know.

"Hmmm, if I had to pick, I nwould say all of them but if I had to choose, it would have to be Cover Me."

"Why that song?"

"The melody is quite soothing. Plus the vocals are top tier," you replied.

"Yeah? I think my vocals could use more work."

You gape at him. "Are you kidding? Your vocals are very exciting to hear! Those high notes aren't easy to do."

He chuckles. "Alright. I'll take your word for it, Y/N.'

Y/N. He said your name. It was like hearing it for the first time. Your heart tugged again and you mentally scolded your brain to shut up. "Ever been to Korea?"

"No. But I'm planning to save up for a solo trip!"

"Solo? Oof. That's going to be difficult especially if you don't know the language."

You smirk. "Dangsin-eun naega ihaehaji moshandago saeng-gaghanayo? (You thibk I don't understand?)."

"Oh, wow. Neohante yeogijeogi boyeojugo sip-eoseoyo (I would love to show you around)."

"That would be lovely but it's not happening anytime soon."

He nods and you suddenly feel bad. "Maybe next year I'll see."

You say your goodbyes and end the call and go into your email. You pick the "buy a plushie" option and choose wolf-chan. Smiling widely, heart content to the max you finally smile to yourself. Maybe life wasn't bad after all.

Your phone pings and without looking, you unlock it and you scream briefly upon seeing the screen.

XX-XXXX-XXXXXX: hey this is bang chan. I stole your number from my manager.

Y/N: did you just commit a crime?

You save his number as Chris.

C: i would never

Y/N: uh huh...

C: hey give me a break here :(

Y/N: are you....being cute?

C: is it working?

Okay. Who is this guy?

Y/N: .... are you the same bang chan I know from my laptop screen?

C: wait you watch us? 😱

Y/N: yeah, i do. 🤨

C: i meant it you know

Y/N: what

C: showing you around seoul

"Is he being funny or actually asking me out? Is that even allowed for him?" You wonder before typing an answer.

Y/N: right now, i'm saving up for the trip

C: well you have my number so just holla at me when you're here

What the absolute fuck?

A/N: this was sitting in my folders and thought why not? Hehe. Pt 2 may be delayed by whole lot as I'm working of 4-5 stories at a time. But do lemme know how ya'll like this one?

[viewofagarden]

Dandy's World OC: Oakley the Leaf

Bio and details in the description!

“Oakley is an outdoorsy, animal-loving Toon who’s not afraid to get down and dirty to help any kind of fauna he comes across. He encourages children to be kind to animals and the environment.”

Full Name: Oakley Underwood

Other Name: Oakley the Leaf

Species: Leaf

Gender: Male (He/Him)

Voice Claim: Jeff Bennett (Numbuh 4’s father; Codename: Kids Next Door)

Dandy Store Quote

“Oakley is the environment’s best friend! And all kinds of critters too! ”

Requirements

500 Ichor

Use 50 items

Appearance

Oakley is a teardrop-shaped green leaf with dark green limbs. He wears a beige short sleeved buttoned shirt, a darker beige pair of shorts, a pair of brown boots, and a brown backpack.

Personality

Oakley is an outdoorsy, curious and down-to-earth Toon that loves animals and being out in nature. He is quite intelligent when it comes to zoology, as he knows many things for all kinds of animals. He doesn’t mind if he gets dirty or hurt, especially if it’s in pursuit of learning about animals or protecting the environment.

However the last part does lead him to be rather reckless, impulsive, and careless, unintentionally risking the well being of himself or those around him. He’s also a little gullible and easily distracted.

Stats

Rank: Common Health: ♥️♥️♥️ Skill Check: ⭐⭐(Size 100/Value 1.5) Movement Speed: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Walk 17.5/Sprint 27.5) Stamina: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (175) Stealth: ⭐⭐⭐ (15) Extraction Speed: ⭐⭐ (0.85)

Ability

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle! Passive  This Toon gains a random 30% boost to a stat upon losing a heart. The boosts disappear when healed.

Dialogue 

Finishing extraction "Sorry for the wait, mate, machines aren’t usually my thing…” “Crikey! That was tough.” “That’s one blighter done, what’s next?”

Descending to the next floor “I hope the critters are doing alright.” “I bet it’s the greenhouse next, I love that place!” “All this extractin’s got me quite buggered…”

Twisted Oakley

"While this Twisted is more common than the others, Oakley’s experience in the outdoors has given his Twisted Form higher speed, attention span, and detection range. Be sure to keep your wits about you.”

Rank: Common Speed: Slightly Above Average (18.5) Attention Span: Slightly Above Average (2.75) Detection Range: Above Average

Twisted Oakley is much like the other common Twisteds, with no abilities or gimmicks to aid him. However he does have an above average detection range, speed, attention span compared to the others, so it’s best to preserve your stamina and hide once you notice him coming around a bend.

Twisted Research Trinket: Binoculars Trinket Category: Other

Highlights any and all Twisteds within close proximity to your Toon.

Trivia

Oakley’s Australian accent and use of slang is based on Steve Irwin while his personality was based on Chris and Martin Kratt, specifically their animated versions from “Wild Kratts”.

His favorite animal is the galagos (aka Bush Babies) while his second favorite are ring tailed lemurs. Meanwhile his favorite sea creature is the otter, as seen in his dialogue with Finn.

[all-pacas]

I love the changes to Chase's background due to hiring actors. First,he goes from a 35 yo New England dude to a 20-something Australian. Then,he goes from the USA old money to being the son of a Czechoslovakian immigrant(played by a Belgian actor) for...reasons? Couldn't they hire an Australian old guy to play Rowan(and keep more or less in line with the initial idea for the character)? Why does Chase need to be half-slavic,since Rowan's actor is from Belgium? Is it more about skill and chemistry,nationality be damned? Or was simply a matter of hiring the first old white guy to show up,and toss in a random nationality to excuse the lousy Aussie accent?

It seems likely to me that they did decide "European expat" based on the casting, if only because there's no reason for Chase's father to not be Australian: that he was a famous doctor actually comes from the pre-casting Pilot script, but obviously that's not nationality based either.

As you mentioned, Bauchau is Belgian, not Czech, which makes me think the nationality choice was intentional: if they based nationality on actor, well, he'd be Belgian. This makes me think Czech is intentional, although I have no idea why: my best guess is they wanted a quick handwaving excuse on why this doctor moved to Australia to have Australian children, and Soviet Bloc is a good one that requires no elaboration.

-

I think the initial idea of the character of Chase (old money, New England) was abandoned with the casting. Not just because of Spencer's age and inability to fake an American accent, mind you.

In the original Pilot script, one of the throwaway mentions is that the hospital was in Boston. It was meant to be located in the old money New England capital, possibly associated with Harvard (they got a bit of this with Princeton, another Ivy League school). But that association? And Chase's New England routes? That's not a fucking coincidence.

I don't know how much non New Englanders know about this shit, but. Boston has / had this whole social elite class. There's this other group of vague… the Cabots. The Lowells. Thayers. Adams. Just these names associated with very rich old money families. Browse that list: there's famous politicians, famous everything. Very WASPy. Absolutely no Boston Irish Catholics in this group. (The Kennedys were also from Boston, but see 'no Catholics.') Chase, as a name, is very, very… it fits right in. Chase, a 35-year-old Old Money Nepotism hire from New England, working in a Boston hospital? He was absolutely envisioned as one of those.

And there's some fascinating subtext to that, too, because Chase was still a nepotism hire in the pilot. He's this rich, silver spoon old money guy with a Big Name… and he still needed his dad to get him the job in this reality. He's a fellow, and he's a decade older than Cameron and Foreman; hell, he's the same approximate age as House, pre-casting. He is pathetic. You know how Taub was slumming it? This Chase was way, way worse. Which could have been fascinating in its own right. Or he could have been a minor villain, the ur-example of someone Foreman has to overcome, even worse than the Chase we got in canon.

So aside from being younger and Australian, what else changed with the casting? The original pilot script doesn't have Chase's lines (from a deleted scene) about enjoying the job because he gets to date women: Chase's sluttiness came with casting. His daddy issues were implied in the original script, with the nepotism line and a line about Chase's dad being a famous doctor, but I'd say moving across the world away from him for a job has a different subtext than OG Chase's probable working in the same town as my father. It's also hard to say if OG Chase was Catholic: Boston is an American epicenter of it, but WASPS are pretty anti-Catholic by tradition; on the other hand, the Kennedys were from Boston and Catholic, and Damned if You Do was written fairly early (August 2004 according to the script), although after casting.

Spencer has also said about his audition that Chase was briefly envisioned as British (but he sucked at that accent, too), and that he helped develop the character a little and pushed for him to be Australian. We also know that Hugh Laurie and Omar Epps were older than their characters, and that the show was eager to write/rewrite things with actors in mind (I've seen it cited that Taub was made a team member specifically because the team liked Jaconson so much, and the same goes for them dragging Anne Dudek back onto the show by making Amber date Wilson and then be a ghost), so I don't think they were ever super sold on OG Chase or anything, although I do find the concept pretty fascinating.

[catsharky]

Wanted to post these separate from my Art Fight post because I spent too long on these references (really just Fallstreak's tbh) to keep them hidden away on the AF site. Also cause I love these guys and I haven't really talked about them much on here.

So for anyone who was curious about the previous art I posted of these OCs, have some actual information about them!

Nell

Full name Abnell Roache (will also accept 'Nella', but loathes being called 'Nelly'). A health and safety inspector for an interstellar cargo company, Nell becomes stranded on an ocean planet when the ship she's auditing- the ACS Endurance- experiences a catastrophic engine failure and tears itself in two.

Adrift on an endless alien sea with no guarantee of rescue and little emergency food, she has to survive with the help of Bas: an (illegal) AI inhabiting the chassis of her life pod's survival assistant. With her only goals being survival and finding any other survivors, she's unprepared to find herself making humanity's first contact with another sapient species; an alien biologist named Fallstreak who has also found himself trapped on the planet. 

She's thrilled to learn about Fallstreak and his people, as well as teach him as much as she can about humanity, and if she has an immediate, massively obvious crush on the tall faceless alien? Well, the only other person there to complain is Bas. Which he does. A lot.

Bas (Pronounced 'Baz')

An illegal AI inhabiting the chassis of a life pod survival assistant (though to clarify, in this universe all true AI are illegal because they require a human brain scan to be made and that's a legal rights nightmare). After years of only knowing his 'father', Richter (the engineer aboard the Endurance who purchased and programmed him), he boots up to find his home destroyed, his father dead, and himself in the company of a total stranger; Nell. 

He has a lot to deal with: keeping Nell alive, figuring out how to interact with someone other than Richter while also mourning his death, and acting as a middle-man/interpreter between Nell (who he has rapidly developed what seem to be romantic feelings towards) and Fallstreak (an alien biologist who's captured Nell's interest without even knowing what he has). 

And to top it all off? He has a text-to-speech Australian accent.

Fallstreak

An alien biologist with a bio-mechanical body, named after the cloud formation (look up 'Fallstreak holes', they're neat!) that most closely resembled an event that occurred on the day of his birth.

Extremely curious and wants to learn everything about his two new companions, as well as share his knowledge with them. Verbal language is all but entirely unused by his species, however, so the language barrier between Fallstreak and Nell+Bas is a large one. Thanks to Bas' assistance, he's able to understand spoken communication fairly well, and speaks (in very broken sentence structure) by vibrating the membranes in his gill openings, resulting in a voice that sounds somewhat like early English vocaloids; understandable but clearly not a natural voice.

Living a fairly solitary life isn't uncommon for his species, and he hasn't had the opportunity to experience romantic interest before, so when he meets Nell and begins to fall for her, he's more than a little confused (oblivious) about what his emotions are doing. Unfortunately draws some jealous ire from Bas as a result, but is pretty oblivious to the AI's attempted rivalry. 

--

All three of these guys are from a WIP comic called The Rive that I hope to finish some day. I have most of the story figured out, and quite a bit of it scripted and ready to go, I just need to actually draw the damn thing.

[disturbingstar]

The last of us trivia

TV show

• Pedro Pascal agreed to play Joel within a day of being sent the script.

• Neil Druckmann (the writer and director of the games, and the co-creator of the HBO series) watched over 100 auditions for Ellie before seeing Bella Ramsey's audition, of which he said, “It didn't feel like I was watching someone acting like Ellie. I was watching Ellie.”

• The TV adaptation offered the opportunity to expand on characters' backstories like Marlene and Ellie's relationship - as they weren't limited to a first-person POV.

• Huge apocalyptic sets had to be made for the show that were only used once - like the interior of the Capitol Building, which was built on a soundstage from scratch. Matching the lushness of the game while making it more realistic was the end goal, and art books from Naughty Dog (the company that developed the video games) were used as a jumping off point.

• Tess is portrayed by Australian actress Anna Torv. She was aware of the games but had not played them and watched the cutscenes after her casting. Torv felt her performance required consistent truthfulness due to its subtlety.

• Anna Torv and Pedro Pascal who portrays Joel decided that Tess and Joel had been lovers for some time but, like in the game, were subtle about their relationship.

• Sarah is portrayed by English actress Nico Parker. Parker watched videos of the original game years before getting the role. She wanted to stay away from the game version and provide her own interpretation of the character.

• As the clickers were a “home run” in the games, prosthetic artists from Game of Thrones were brought on to make them look as close to the source material as possible.

• There was even a movement bootcamp to train extras how to move like infected.

• The art teams were given the direction to find the beauty in the fungus. As Neil Druckmann said, “When you see the beauty in these monsters, it somehow makes them creepier.”

• It was Bella Ramsey's suggestion to have Ellie sleep with a switchblade during her first night with Tess and Joel.

• Neil Druckmann always thought of Joel and Tess's relationship as romantic, and the TV show offered the opportunity to make that explicit.

• Neil Druckmann is open to a The Last of Us Part 3 game, but it depends on whether the team can “come up with a compelling story that has this universal message and statement about love.”

• Pedro Pascal was chosen to play Joel Miller because of his ability to portray a tough, tortured, and vulnerable character who suppresses his emotions until necessary.

• Pedro Pascal based Joel's voice on his own experiences growing up in San Antonio, Texas, paring it back from the Southern accent used in the games.

• Bella Ramsey was aware of the game before their audition, but was encouraged not to play it to avoid replicating Ashley Johnson's original performance, instead watching some gameplay on YouTube to get a sense of it. As of filming the series, they still hadn't played the game.Ramsey wanted their performance to be reminiscent of the games without copying them.

• Unlike his counterpart from the video game series, Joel is more vulnerable in the television series; he is hard of hearing on one side due to a gunshot, his knees ache when he stands and he also suffers from nightmares and panic attacks. Co-creator Craig Mazin felt Joel should be less resilient than in the game to show the toll that living in the post-outbreak world has taken.

• Tommy is portrayed by American actor and producer Gabriel Luna. About a month after the casting of Pascal and Ramsey as Joel and Ellie respectively, Luna was asked to submit an audition tape. He was familiar with the work of co-creator Craig Mazin and executive producer Carolyn Strauss, and had previously worked on HBO's True Detective. About a week after submitting his tape, he was offered the role and, according to Luna, they instantly knew he was the one. He was enthusiastic for the role, having lived in Austin, Texas—Joel and Tommy's hometown—around the same time as the show's setting. He was also given a PlayStation 5 during production to play the games as research.

[history-freak1]

@spartan-in-a-b-25 (N) and I (A) watch the patriot, bc we're both doing the most, a long thread of everything we discussed. Below the cut!

Heath Ledger being a baby. Logan Lerman being an even BIGGER baby in this movie

Mel Gibson deserving to fall off the rocking chair

A discussion of how bullets should never be fired into the air because they will come back down

An even longer discussion about how the hair Aunt Charlotte (and actually all the girls, Anne, Margaret, etc.) is not period accurate, but we love it anyways.

An even longer discussion over romanticizing American history as a whole.

After a brief pause, N: "Anyway, I'm here for some booty, I don't know about you." (We still have 20 minutes before we see Tavington)

N: "They have a 14 year old child signing people up to join the army."

A: "Heath Ledger really nailed that American accent." N: "Yeah, isn't he Australian?"

A: "Oh, he looks GOOOOOOOOD." (William's literally just walking down the steps)

Me, explaining the fic (iykyk) timeline and saying, 'so, if we go off the 1780 timeline, the sword scene has already happened.' N: "And for it to happen off-screen, too." I spilled water down the entirety of my blanket.

N, About Gabriel's injury: FLUSH IT, PACK IT WRAP IT, YOURE FINE.

The British marching on the Martin plantation, *in a too high pitched, giddy voice* "oh no, I wonder who's going to show up here??"

N: "Theres a lof of fur happening here." A: "HIS gloves?!?!?"

N: "Oh my god he's such a bitch" A: "*GIGGLING* I LOVE HIM"

A: "I want him to point that thing [the pistol] at me." N: "Or something else."

A discussion of killing enemy soldiers, burning the house, etc. N: "I'm not saying I'm justifying any of this." A: "WHO SAID WE HAD TO JUSTIFY ANYYHING?"

N: "He's carrying seven guns, he looks insane."

N: "His face is sweaty, but his shirt is dry. What is wrong with him?"

A:"When i was in archery, my dad used to make me write aim small, miss small on my arrows." N: "that explains so much about you."

N: "Keep the horses for the dragoons. How the fuck were them kids supposed to get to Aunt Charlotte's."

N: "He's definitely having a menty b right now, and all his kids are looking at him like that's fucked."

A: *showing N the extended firefly scene* Aweee, what?!?!

A: "He looks SO GOOD." N: "I love the slow pullback he makes before he responds, the I beg your finest pardon in body language."

N: "was she wearing a full fucking corset in the middle of the night?"

N: "Why did they leave so much of his character development out?!?!?" A: "babes, that's what fic is for."

N: *completely crashing out when William has blood on his face in the extended scene with Cornwallis*

N: "I actually might require financial compensation for watching someone that French....OOOH, LOOK AT HIS PRETTY HORSEY."

In reference to Tavington's side profile, A: "THOSE PANTS BE WORKING". N: "Those pants are doing the Lord's work."

N: "Oh, Oh bestie [the reverend] that is a WIG."

A: "so those two twink looking father and son duo, they lived 20 minutes from me."

"That is a CHILD."

N: "IS THAT SEWAGE JOE FROM PARKS AND REC?" (she was right)

N: "I am making bullets made from my dead son's toys to metaphorically get my revenge...and I've been watching too much Criminal Minds."

A: "its the ball! The ball! I wonder whats going to happen!" N: "also, tragically off-screen, bestie."

N: "IS THAT GODDAMN JOHNNY MARTIN [Band of Brothers]" (it is)

The ball: [every thought is redacted for a few minutes].

N: "he's just chilling on the hilltop there. That makes me laugh." N has begun describing why it is bad they are pulling on the horse reigns as they're going downhill. N: "there's so much bad riding going on."

N: *about the dogs* "you're not my dad!!"

A: "I wonder who's he's talking about killing civilians...idk, maybe someone named the butcher." N: "WHAT ABOUT IT?"

A: "we get a very fun tavington scene in 30 seconds." N: "it could be more fun!!"

N: "I'm very much so enjoying the cut of his coat here."

"...Just occasionally it's a real pleasure." *both of us are giggling in stunned silence. Do not come for us. Do not perceive us.*

N: "More of that shot please! I am very appreciative of a short coat." A: "he does have a nice ass." N: "turn around again, do it again, turn it around let's go." IF Y'ALL ARE STILL READING. WATCH THR PATRIOT FOR WILL TAVINGTON'S ASS, I BEG.

N: "bestie, you dont want to live in ohio!!"

A: "aunt Charlotte's a stronger woman than me...I would have said, take the house the kids..." n: "me."

N: "You're telling me he didnt notice that kid's shoes....that's DISRESPECTFUL." A: "is that not the Tavington you know?" N: "YOURE GODDAMN RIGHT IT'S NOT."

N: "why are you firing? I dont think you have bullets to waste!"

*debate on why the tavington scenes should have been added to the regular movie*

N: "I said that I hate you with my whole chest, and now I'm going to run away."

I am now angrily stating that white/light colored clothes meant to indicate a wedding were not used until Queen Victoria age. Martha Washington's wedding gown was BRIGHT YELLOW DAMASK.

A: "So, Charlotte's 'dress' is actually not a dress at all.'

A: *weirdly mimicking Susan saying Papa.* N: "That was weirdly upsetting."

N: "The way he said 'But that's between you and God's was so sassy!"

"What about the people he murdered?" "what MURDAH"

"RED ALERT, HAIR DOWN. SHAVING SCENE." "its fine. Its fine, we're fine."

N: "he just shot the preacher." A: "as one does"

*tavington, face down* N: "sir yes sir"

N: "youre handling Gabriel's death very well." A: "im changed....im a CHANGED woman." N: "you know what, incredibly valid."

A cacophony of "oh my god, ohhhhhh, ohhhhhhhh my god. Goodness me. The hair. The HAIR. The chest hair. The stubble. I dont even know what he was saying, I dont know anything that happened."

Five minutes later, we're still flustered.

*we completely diverted away from the patriot to talk about current politics. Unfortunately, we are no better than women looking at a hot man and then do not care when said hot man is not on screen.*

N: "now just let the camera go a little bit lower....There we go!"

A: "I actually won't be able to stand it if he dies." (He will, he always does)

N: "Not to take away from the moment, but his eyes are so pretty."

A: "i love that Cornwallis really did hide himself away in Yorktown...and by the time the French showed up, he said, 'This is going to ruin the tour."

N crashing and burning over the extended cut of Tavington post-Gabriel where he's all white shifted up, stubble out, chest hair out. We had to rewatch it, of course.

Not pictured: me, trying to show N a deleted scene and my mother getting to see all of colonel tavington's extended scenes on the family TV. RIP to me, I think my soul left my body.

[preet-01]

K — Detective/Criminal for @witchywitchy19

It was a demotion. Lewis was absolutely sure of it.

How else would he go from undercover stings busting drug rings and mobs to investigating stolen art that he was 90 percent sure the museum was “losing” for the insurance claims? Though there were the benefits of being able to actually spend time with his husband now that he wasn’t always undercover for his job.

“It makes no sense, Seb,” Lewis groans as he rants about the latest developments in his case. The latest development being that there were no developments and Lewis was absolutely losing his mind having to deal with the museum’s art director — Nico Rosberg, a former friendship that had turned sour sometime during their college days.

He’d been able to avoid interactions with Nico and his petty remarks for so long, but with this case he had to deal with Nico everyday.

“Maybe take a step back and talk through the facts,” Sebastian advises. It’s a strategy Lewis knows that Seb loves to use with his patients. “What was stolen?”

“A rare Rembrandt painting that Nico so kindly has emphasized the importance of in every meeting we’ve had,” Lewis replies, cuddling closer to Seb.

“Anything else?” Seb inquires.

“Not according to the museum. Jenson is doing an audit with some of the museum guys to make sure nothing else was stolen,” Lewis says. To the naked eye, only the Rembrandt was missing. But the concern was that a reproduction had been hanging in the gallery as the actual painting was undergoing regularly scheduled maintenance inspections. So it was in the museum archive with a bunch of other stuff that wasn’t on display.

“Signs of breaking and entering?”

“That’s the thing, nothing is out of order. The cameras all worked with the exception of two — one that has been broken for the past three weeks and the one situated above the painting. The locks weren’t tampered with. And the reproduction wasn’t touched at all in the glass case. The thief knew to check the archive.” Lewis rants.

“Huh,” Seb says.

“Huh? What are you thinking of?” Lewis inquires.

“Well, you said the reproduction was hanging, right?” Seb asks as Lewis nods. “The only people who would know a reproduction is hanging in the museum while the original would be the museum staff, right?”

“They would know how to avoid the cameras, which ones worked, which one to tamper. They would have access to the building,” Lewis rambles off as pieces fall into place. There’s still more work to do, but things are starting to make sense and it’s a lead.

_______

“You’re late,” Mark says, “what took so long?”

“My husband was taken off of undercover and moved to robberies,” Sebastian answers with a sigh as he pulls out the Rembrandt that had driven Lewis crazy a month ago. “The Rembrandt robbery was his first case since that move. It requires caution when the detective trying to catch you is sleeping in your bed,” Sebastian adds.

“Considering you and the painting are here, I assume he didn’t crack the case,” Mark states as his guy checks the painting’s authenticity.

“He put away the museum’s art director,” Sebastian reveals.

“What did the art director do?” Mark’s guy — some pale twenty some year old with brown hair and an Australian accent just like Mark 1- asks.

“Nothing recently,” he answers, “years ago? Well that’s a different matter.”

“It’s a Rembrandt,” Mark’s guy tells them.

After making sure the wire transfer goes through, Sebastian returns home. A weight had been lifted from Lewis’ shoulders ever since the Rembrandt case had been closed which meant that Lewis could actually enjoy not being on the undercover unit.

And tonight was date night where he’s sure Lewis will bring up the idea of adopting. The Rembrandt money will help pay for a bigger home and the cost of raising a child. Not that Lewis would know it’s Rembrandt money, no as far as Lewis knew, Seb had a rich distant uncle in Germany that left his money to Seb.

He hadn’t intended for the blame to fall on Nico, but two birds one stone, gift horse, and all of that. The ghost of Nico and their college years couldn’t haunt them with the man locked away in a prison three hours away.

[docholligay]

When you hear an accent/dialect/we're not going to get into that debate here that sounds 'odd' to your ear, think about that! Not even in a "Wow, I hate that" way, or a "I need to examine my classism/racism/etc way I am a bad person way, but in a secret third way called, "curiosity and openness to experience"

I was EXTREMELY EXTREMELY FORTUNATE to have a required class in college called "History of the English Language" which was one of the 'weeder classes' for the English majors at my school. It was very very difficult, but the man who taught it had an INSANE passion for English. He LOVED IT, he would talk about it all goddamn day, and it taught me so much about how and why things get changed and said the way they do, and it made me so CURIOUS about why something is unusual or fun for my brain to listen to.

So now, anytime I hear someone pronounce something or verbalize something in a way I think of as "odd" I get so excited and curious*. What is it I haven't heard before? Sometimes my tongue will move around my mouth trying to figure out how they make that sound (I am REAL bad at this. Accents are in no no no way my forte, which is annoying because I'm very good at HEARING them and hearing the differences between them, I just can't DO it) because it is so interesting and cool all the different ways one fucking language has been DONE over so many years.

Anyway I so far off track I am no longer a train, but looking at dialects as you might look at an interesting bug instead of like a pop song on the radio or a sign font is a really good way to start opening your mind to language as something other than a value marker. And that doesn't HAVE to be another way of whipping yourself for being a piece of shit--I assume you have plenty of reasons--but a way of going, "Oh, something unexpected!"

*Also not to attempt to introduce nuance on the 'no nuance we die like men' website, but I think there is a big difference between loving teasing and mockery/cruelty. I don't actually mind if friends, especially ones with VASTLY different ways of speaking, imitate my accent I think it's fuckin funny as hell! Jetty has the WORST rural western accent on the planet, and I love to make fun of whatever the fuck she's got going on there, but it is FUN and there is a sense of LOVE that comes with it. And it's not even a "well yeah, Holligay, when you've known someone for a long time" No no, I once sat in a shitty pub on the east end, now closed (rip) and me and my mom ending up striking up a conversation with two old-school cockney guys, and as soon as he tried to say "Montana" the way I did, the race was ON, and it was FUNNY, and we all laughed and had a good time, it is about attitude.

And I know I'm gonna get something about "well how do you KNOW and that is why i turned off reblogs but come on y'all, 9 times out of 10 you can tell when something is done with deep affection or camaraderie or because even just something feels cool in your mouth it's fun to try. I can't do 87% of the linguistic features I think FUCK SEVERELY (intrusive R, the way a word that genuinely does not start with the letter h has a different sound than a word when the h is uptaken (this has a fucking word and I cannot find it it's making me nuts)) but I LOVE them.

Quick quiz to help though: Are you affecting this accent to in some way sound stupid/ridiculous? We can go back and forth about that a little: one of my buddies says "well shiiiiit" exactly the way I do, for funsies, but it just...feels neat. What I'm saying is you have to use some discernment here and I know we are all allergic to that but give it a shot/go/whatever the hell Australians say for this.

Post script: All of this reminds me also about how I studied the phonemes and linguistics of English with intense fervor in college, and got REAL COCKY, and then in the Orkneys had my very first ever, in life, "We are both speaking English but damn" moment. Normally I am The One for this. I am unruffled. My wife gets confused by the word takeaway (she is smart I swear) but I'm rock-solid. Until. Hubris.

This guy is rollin on up in his van, which is the 'bus system' on Rapness, and it's cute as hell as a system, but I ask him something stupid about the timetable, and he answers me in what I can only describe as a Nordic-flavored Scottish accent. It is actually really remarkable and I went on a weird deep dive of the Orkneys afterward because I had never heard anything like it but I digress. I DID NOT GET A FUCKING WORD. And so, because I panic, I do what I always do when I feel flustered or emotional or angry: I sound like Yosemite fucking Sam. So now he can't understand what I am asking him!

Good news is, we both give a little bit of a laugh, I go, 'Let's try that again" and I do manage to exchange that this van picks up outside of the Pierowall hotel in time for the ferry.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Assorted LMK headcanons cus im busy with new years stuff rn;

Macaque will deliberately use australian slang he's learned from Jade-Face and the Gold & Silver twins to torment Wukong. Especially if done in a fake aussie accent, he loves the pained look on Wukong's face as he tries to decipher what the heck Mac just said.

Red Son was a LOUD baby. Like, crying all the time colicky baby. PIF and DBK had many a sleepless, self-hating nights thinking they were doing something wrong. Later it was discovered that hosting the Samadhi Fire was like an intense chronic pain for baby Red. One of the reasons he lashed out at others as a toddler was because he was in physical pain from the power affixed to his tiny-underdeveloped soul. Once the Samadhi Fire was removed, Red Son canonically knocked straight to sleep - chronic pain do be making you sleepy.

+Sadly this also means that Ao Lie was riddled with chronic burning joint pain in his later life from absorbing a fourth of the Fire. He was very good at hiding it. Mei starts to develop odd burning aches in her mid-twenties and isn't sure why.

Princess Iron Fan and Demon Bull King did in fact have a huge break-up/separation prior to his imprisonment. It was a arguement over Red Son being trained in the Southern Ocean by Guanyin. DBK wanted to tear the place apart to get his son back and begin the glorious expansion of their domain. PIF knew that this wouldn't go down well with Heaven and the Bodhisattvas, and argued that they could just ask for Red Son and... settle down together, no royal fixings required (hmm, parallels to another pairing anyone >:3?). Be a happy old couple outside the Flaming Mountain. But DBK didn't want that (at least right then), he wanted the world to recognise that his family had been done great injustices by Heavens and others for too long. He wanted his Queen to recieve even a tenth of her birthright as a Celestial Princess, and wanted his child to be recognised as an heir of the Jade Throne. As her husband charged off to make his intentions known to the world; PIF called up a certain monkey to do something she would regret for many centuries to come...

PIF is a lot more perceptive of the cruelty that the Heavens can bestow than she lets on.

If Spider Queen had kept her husband captured on New Years for even a minute longer, than PIF would have called up old contacts to bring the wrath of the Buddha onto her. She didn't appear in-story because she was busy organising a raid party.

+Also the reason why nobody in the Celestial Realm said anything/pretended not to notice when the MKrew showed up. Many of the guards were on standby if the Spider Queen decided to do her own Havoc in Heaven once she had SWK captured. A lot of the royal family was hiding in their own palaces waiting for an all-clear.

[kaccvcate]

When I was growing up, my mom never told me I was native or Jewish. Even though the only Europeans in my family were dads who abandoned us (I come from an unbroken line of single mothers going back to my Muskogee great-great-grandma), I was only told about my european heritage, and my mom even taught me to hide my accent in public so people wouldn't know. She was so ashamed of where we came from because of how she was discriminated against in college and grad school. She was an anthropologist, and I'm sure other anthropologists will confirm how racist the field was until very recently - it was crazy how she would tell me these stories from her textbooks, which reflecting on later I realize were incredibly racist and condescending (especially whatever book they made her read on Australian Aboriginals.) She even gave me a German name specifically because she thought it would make my Jewish dad abandon me, she wanted me to be white so badly. And she wasn't afraid to abuse me in other ways to get me to act "civilized." She herself was very fair skinned and redheaded, and I think she felt that if only she wasn't native, then she would have been treated more kindly by people and given more opportunities in school and her career. When I ran away from home, I got to meet my dad, who is Choctaw and Jewish and grew up in New England, and he taught me to be proud of ALL my heritage, not just my white ancestors. If I didn't have him, I might have gone on to be a fakey wannabe nazi too, since my mom basically was one without the swastikas. I didn't learn she was native as well until I talked to my grandma about it after I got out of the mental hospital a couple years ago. I tried to kill myself like every young native person I know (I even know a few who managed to pull it off.) A lot of native people come from horribly self-racist, self-hating backgrounds, it is EXTREMELY common, especially in families that understandably never registered with the government to recieve reparations (requiring registration of minorities is something the Nazis did as well, and Native Americans were the first to be rounded up and put in camps.) Genocide is not just physical, it's psychological as well. I often read stories about Jewish people who had to go into hiding for many generations, like in Spain, how they recovered their culture afterward and learned to be proud again. It gives me a lot of hope.