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calypsoff · 4 years

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Twelve.

This is why I picked Texas, this is the third apartment we have come too, and this is already my favourite. The fact it is gated and the price of it, I am shocked. If I had money, well some money I could do it on my own but when I saw it advertised I thought it was too good to be true with the price but it’s legit, it’s gated. We had to get buzzed in to check this shit out, if we are splitting this shit between us three it’s like six hundred between us and that is cheap for what it is, it looks so nice “you look happy as hell Chris, you already sold on this?” Barry asked, he knows. He can see it “man, I am hype. Where is this dude bro, I want to see the apartment. Like you can’t get this in Virginia, shit is expensive. Texas is dope, I like it here. You see how happy I am” clapping my hands together “I do like it here, it’s dope. Already met some chicks with good pussy and then met some niggas I think we will get on with. Shit, we really doing this” I didn’t really expect these niggas to come with me, but they did, I am hype to not be alone either “sorry, I am Jacob. Which one is Christopher” turning around to this white guy “that is me sir” getting my hand out to him “welcome to The Opal, you all new to Texas?” nodding my head “yes sir, we looking to move here. So we need three bedrooms and I saw this, I was like this is too good to be true, but I am shocked. I am already in love” dead ass really am “you want to sign the papers now?” he said, I laughed “I will but I just want to see it first” Jacob made his way around to TJ and Barry “three friends wanting to move to Texas, well welcome to Texas first and foremost, I would say for property Texas is it. You are paying for that, I don’t see it for places like New York and California, I couldn’t see me there wasting money so Texas is it, so shall go to your apartment?” I am excited as hell so can he hurry up.

I am impressed, I assumed it was going to be dope and it is “I like the whole patio and then balcony, shit we have a pool just there” I pointed “the parties too, I mean the very quiet ones” TJ said, Jacob laughed “yes quiet parties so that is it, how about if you decide to sign right now I will throw in a month free rent. These are brand new apartments, just been built so at the moment it’s quiet but we want people to move to Texas so if you sign today we will throw that in” he is making it hard to say I will think about it “can I speak to these two and then we can discuss?” Jacob nodded his head walking off, I like it. I like the whole gates thing, and the price is great “what you thinking then? It will be fine for us, we got parking here, we got the pool. Tell me” I need to hear them “I am speechless, not going to lie. Because I was unsure about Texas anyways but coming here, it’s dope. It’s got a mall two miles from here, the people are dope. I see us being here long term too. I like the whole open plan living, dining thing. The bedrooms are huge too, so we have our own space. If we bring chicks over we got our own room and space, I am for it” looking at TJ “you?” I need them to be in “I want in, I have never had so much fun since being here. No gang shit, just normal people” clapping my hands together “dope, bring it in!” opening my arms, I want this group hug.

Looking around the placing smiling, this shit is dope as fuck “man, I feel rich. Look at this place. I am so proud of this place already, man I feel happy” Barry laughed “you look so happy bro” he knows it, we are waiting for the agent to come back with the paperwork so we can sign this shit, this is a major thing in my life “I am back boys, one thing we do need three hundred and seventy five dollars as deposit? Remember you get the one month free so you do not need to worry about the month rent” I don’t have no money on me for that “I got it, I got it in cash” TJ came up, he didn’t even blink or even think about “Thank you” that was nice of him “don’t, I got you niggas. We eating” nodding my head stepping back “I can take cash, so I just need some signatures and go through some things. So how many cars are you looking to bring?” I don’t even have a car “uh one bro, that is Barry’ car” I pointed out “that is fine, you can also have pets here. So if you want you can bring some” that is dope “so can we move in now?” I asked “you could if you want too, are you all going back to Virginia first?” I would move in now “yeah bro, doing that first” I am so happy.

Jacob shook my hand “congratulations on your new apartment, it was very nice to meet all of you boys. It’s been a pleasure, it’s nice to see such good friends. These are the keys, one copy so you will need to make a few for the rest” taking the key from the guy “look at this boys” holding the keys up “don’t do anything I wouldn’t” Jacob left “how quick was that! My nigga, we did this! We done it” dapping Barry and then hugging him “oh my man, I love you boy! We out here” I am so happy, this means a new life for me, a new hope of something different. I needed this more then they assume so, I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. I can just be me; I can make friends out here, I can go out late at night without looking over my shoulder. I will miss my mom my parents so much, but I need this, I need to be free and I will see them when I can. My mom wanted me to move actually, she was scared for me “ayo, take a picture of me over here” I pointed at the balcony, I am out here taking pictures. I am just feeling confident about shit now “this place is crazy nice, like I don’t even want to wear my sneakers in this bitch” this patio and balcony spot is dope, I am in love “I will send you the picture, I will take it” TJ said “come on bro” looking at the pool situated just in front of us, turning around to face them. Barry stood next to me, holding the keys up “ayo, I forgot to tell you. Gabby couldn’t stop speaking on you, she was like he is the most beautiful man I have seen, his aura. His face, I love his hair. I really want him; I goes he is taken. He is very happy with her, and she goes, what did she say TJ” Barry pointed at him “Oh yeah, this bitch goes. Let’s take him out, some drink and dancing. He will be over her, she called me and I goes oh nah. Chris isn’t interested. At all, you for real going to get the bitches” maybe Robyn should be worried, that makes me laugh to think because I have been hiding away from life because of Virginia.

Man I am hype as hell, posting the picture eon Instagram and adding the caption ‘New beginnings, Texas!’ pressing send on the post “we lit bro, what we going to do tonight?” I asked locking my phone, it started to ring straight off “probably go out, last day here and all that” nodding my head “afternoon, you seem to always ring when I post something? Stalker much” walking back into the apartment “I was just looking at Instagram and your notification came up, and I assumed you would be done. You know with me being busy and you, I just thought I would call if you are free” Robyn has been busy, but her busy is celebrating her birthday over several days, she has been drinking all that time “yeah I can for a while, but I got an apartment. It’s so nice, I am so excited. I can’t wait for you to see, you will be impressed because it’s gated too, man I can’t wait!” I am so excited “I can tell how happy you are, you know” Robyn paused “I been busy so I haven’t had the chance to check up on you as I would and things, what have you been doing? You never really explained how that party went?” she is acting like it’s my fault I couldn’t explain “you was partying, I just went to the club and then I left early and then them niggas went to some home. I came back to look at apartments” sitting on the counter top “oh right yeah, that is ok. I got to go, manager ringing. I will call you back” I assumed she wanted to speak “ok cool, I love you Robyn” I was hype on my own, the phone disconnected “women” sighing out.

I have no idea what her problem be sometimes, I think its mixed emotions with her but it’s whatever “shall we go then?” I jumped off the counter “yeah, we might as well get ready for tonight, I can’t wait to move into this place. It’s going to be dope as fuck” nodding my head watching TJ walk back inside “got the plug, we need new weed you see” he is right we do, looking down at my phone as it pinged and then pinged again, again also. I will check it later, it’s Robyn sending me something, if I look now she will then know I checked. I rather she sees I didn’t yet “when you thinking of moving out here then?” Barry asked “uhm as soon as my apartment is sold. I thin kit will be sold quick anyways, because the neighbourhood is nice you know, it’s good for a couple so it will sell good, but I will be here quick so y’all be ready, even though. I may come out here first and just set up, I have set up the Instagram page for Black Pyramid, we that shit started. We move forward from now on, fuck Virginia. I want to play niggas faces, I ain’t going to let them get the better of me, they still gangbanging and we going to be living the high life, but I don’t see myself move from this place, like Cali ain’t me so I don’t know what Robyn will do, she knows I am stubborn so I will not move, Cali is full of fakes and expensive for nothing” Barry shook his head laughing “women will get their way” he patted my arm walking off.

Resting my legs across the backseat, TJ hired a car so we can move without getting an uber which was wack. Let me check Robyn’ messages now, unlocking my phone and tapping on my messages and then onto Robyn’. Seeing three screenshots, scrolling down and tapping on the first one “oh shit” I said staring at this picture, tapping off it and going down to the text.

Robyn: Club huh?

Rubbing my face, how the fuck did she get these and how. Tapping on the first picture again, I am literally sat on the couch innocently, but I am there, sliding to the second picture I am looking straight at the phone, man I look so dumb. Sliding to the third, my hair looks a mess but that is when I mislaid my snapback “niggas!” I spat, she knows, and she asked, and I fucking lied “what?” TJ turned the volume down, dragging myself forward “look” showing Barry “oh yeah she tagged us in these” Barry knew “then why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me!?” I shouted, “because you literally get a notification why?” sitting back “Robyn sent me this and put club huh” I mumbled, Barry turned in his seat looking at me all wide eyed “no fucking way!? She got time to be checking on you, oh fuck” he is saying oh fuck, imagine how I feel “she asked me too, she goes oh about the club and I continued it too, she wanted me to admit it, what do I do!? She sent this twenty minutes ago” I look like a liar “oh shit, you left her thinking. And now she will think you are making up lies, uhm. Oh fuck. I think maybe just text her, yeah. And say yeah I meant house sorry?” I groaned out “no, I said to her. Went to the club and you niggas went to a girls house, the fucking house I am in with these pictures so it look I did the same! I made it worse” Barry let out an oh “tell her the truth, just hope for the best” hope for the best he says.

Chris: I didn’t tell you get together because yu would say no and I just wanted to be there, I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even know these picture were taken!

I can only hope for this text, but she is going to be pissed off, of course this would happen to me but what made her check my tagged pictures. Robyn is really keeping an eye on me, like deadass she is. Maybe that is why she has been quiet with me.

Robyn: You didn’t tell me because I might say no? How stupid does that fucking sound, you lied to me you stupid asshole. I literally fucking told you I would be really watching your behaviour; I just so fucking happen to check that! Is this the fun you are speaking on.

Chris: Not exactly…. You acting stupid

Robyn: I am acting like how any woman would, you fucking lied!

Chris: Sorry

Robyn didn’t text me back, so I know she is very upset with me “I am going to let y’all go to the room, I am going to speak to Robyn on the phone in the bar here. Some space” TJ and Barry didn’t know what to say but smile, I mean I fucked up but it’s not like I did anything I know her answer because she was acting goofy when she said yes the first time I asked to go out. Tapping on Robyn’ name and let it ring out as I went to find a seat here, I don’t want her upset with me so I will let her rant and not say a word “what do you want?” as expected “can we talk or you just going to leave as that? You can see from those pictures Robyn I did nothing wrong. I was sat there on my own, I look odd as fuck. Yes you saw the pictures, but I have nothing to hide, I didn’t even know that was tagged in the first place, I have nothing to hide Robyn, I promise you” I thought I would put that forward “why lie in the first place, I have been sitting on this since yesterday. Why not tell me Chris? I told you I have more to lose because I can barely find anything, with me I could never cheat. The whole world would know” sitting down on the chair “because you were so angry that you said yes that time, so I don’t know. TJ said to not say it, I didn’t, and it was stupid of me. Robyn, I wouldn’t ever cheat on you! I am not crazy, I am sorry. I apologise, I hold my hands up about it” I don’t know what else she wants me to say “tell me Chris, I need you to interact with me about everything, shit. Tell me the time you had your morning pee. We currently on a long distant relationship Chris, I believe you, I do. But don’t do me like that, I get needy Chris. But just because I am busy doesn’t mean I am not watching you, because I am. Even your behaviour now, I love you and I miss you so much” I feel bad that I did “I love you more, when can you see my new place” I mumbled “I will try and see if I can make a little visit, won’t b long, just a quick visit. You know I am not angry at you, I am more angry that you lied, men are fickle. You can have any beautiful person they will still cheat and you are a very good looking man but I know you Chris and I know you are telling me the truth” she does know me but I guess that did annoy her.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #chrianna

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep8: Magic Mai

So fun fact, I was out of town around this Thanksgiving and I grabbed a laptop from my Dad’s stack of machinery he’s sort of collected over the years and lo and behold--he put Linux on it.

Like I dunno if you all can relate to this problem, but everything he touches turns into Linux and he’s trying to live this Windows free/Mac free lifestyle, and I get it, I’m friends with so many vegetarians, but like I hate this laptop. I'm using Gimp to make these screenshots...So I can re-do them later in Photoshop because...it just doesn’t feel right to put Papyrus on this computer. It already has Linux. This poor machine has suffered enough. Long story short, this’ll be a small update because right clicking on linux is ass.

Also, because I was on a laptop and realized how small my blog is for the first time--I don’t have control over the size of pictures in text posts, tumblr does, and in this particular theme it’s not allowing me to change the size, and so do me a favor. Click ctrl and + at the same time a couple times (I’m assuming most of you are on firefox). There. the pictures are the right size now. If you hated that, you can click ctrl and - but like lets be real, my font is occasionally...tiny.

Anyway, we start discussing this episode on the confusing legs of the last one, where Mai is evil now, and it’s really not entirely clear if she’s possessed or if she’s just always been this way, or if she just FEELS like it.

And that’s all this episode is about, start to finish--is this Mai’s choice or was this not Mai’s choice? The answer is the same as it would be for a normal person: it’s complicated. Maybe it’s everybody’s choice. Maybe it was because no one did anything that Mai went completely haywire? Maybe it was because Mai hid how she was feeling so no one had any idea she needed help? Or, overall, maybe Mai is kind of a toxic person and wanted to be this way? Especially while she’s on children’s cartoon card drugs?

(read more under the cut)

So to start off, a weird thing happened at the beginning of this episode. After about 4 seasons, someone finally mentioned this:

How many seasons has Yugi been talking to himself? Like, out loud. In front of everyone and Kaiba? This whole time, right? Like Valon just dashed my headcanon where I figured Yugi was smart enough to think his thoughts instead of speak his thoughts. He’s just not that smart, unfortunately.

Meanwhile, Mai has managed to attract this other (teenager?) guy and like...to go worse than Joey so quickly is kind of shocking. Mai just seems embarrassed by the amount of very young boys in love with her. And she’s not even a cougar about it, she doesn’t really seem to want this to happen but it keeps on happening.

And although he is essentially the card form of a drug pusher, Valon has this soft spot for a girl I guess to give him some sort of redeemable flaw. However, she only wears tube tops and minis and spends like hundreds of dollars on her hair, so it doesn’t really make him seem any less shallow, tbh.

PS I’m surprised, that unlike all the other characters on Yugioh, I can’t just type in Valon’s name into Google and get his age and weight. No idea what his age is, and if you know, feel free to tell me but he just seems...exactly the same age as Joey. He seems very 17. Maybe it’s the obsession with motorcycles and children’s playing cards? Maybe it’s his big ol childlike eyes? He just seems young and niave like how a teenager who just fell in love with a very angry older woman would.

Joey tries to remind everyone, multiple times, that this game is the worst idea ever since it requires one of them to super die, but Mai is on card drugs so I don't know why they bothered. Also, why is Joey still surprised by this after 4 seasons of this?

Yo it’s S4 and Mai witnesses magic non-stop but still has basically no idea how it works. She really did say “I have no soul” and it was like...I’m 90% certain she literally thinks she has no soul right now. Which I guess, statistically speaking, is rare to actually have a still intact soul after hanging out with the main villain, with the way this show typically goes.

Meanwhile, last episode it really sounded like Duke Devlin was driving to Pegasus’ company building. It really sounded like he would have gone directly there, since Weevil and Rex told him that Yugi was going to Pegasus.

Remember that Duke Devlin works for Pegasus and probably has his own parking spot.

So where did he go instead?

You know how there’s only one gas station in the entirety of America?

I can’t believe it blew up.

Y’all what is the red splotch in the middle of the pile ps? That is legitimately a pile of blood, right? I didn’t shop that in. There’s just a red puddle in this kid’s show.

Y’all what is that? Like was there a scene with a red handkerchief that I missed? Is that a red handkerchief?

But to move past the mysterious pool of blood that confirms those bikers are so hella dead, I have no idea why Duke was here, I have no idea how he got the tip off that Yugi visited this place, but then he turned around and went back to SF so like...I guess he’ll arrive 3 days from now because again, they are in Arizona. They keep telling me this is right outside SF but like--Mesas. There’s Mesas.

And then this happened.

That one guy on the writing staff who just stans Seto Kaiba so hard got into the drawing room, I see.

PS someone had to pose for this shot for them to draw this shot from this angle.

Meanwhile, lets see why Mai turned evil. Ah, because it is Yugioh, the biggest reason is that she has no friends (probably because she’s got the most acidic personality known to man) and isn’t card popular enough and got super bitter and jealous.

Speaking as an artist who is online, I can understand the frustration here. Sometimes (99% of the time) you work really hard and no one cares and you get like 2 notes. And honestly, why should they? Like, why do you do it in the first place?

Mai echoes a lot of the issues of Seto last season, where she wants so badly to be the absolute best to prove herself to the ghosts of her past who really don’t care any more.

But, since Mai was in a coma when Seto got through all of that, I guess she never got the memo and still seems stuck on just wanting to be the best with no other reason than “to be the best” which again, sounds so much like art school problems. This is everyone who has ever had an interest in animation. We all go through that phase.

Generally we don’t take peoples souls as a reaction to that type of discouragement, but then Mai made sure to mention in almost a foot note that she did spend like an entire season and a half trapped in Marik's shadow realm. And that kind of effed her up in a really big way.

Thanks, Marik.

Really feels like Marik should be dealing with this problem--really feels like maybe Marik is the only person that we can actually point to and say “Oh yeah, that guy is to blame for Mai right now” And he is the only person that Mai does not actively go out and try to kill.

And I’ll have you know I just deleted like a 15 K word rant about the difference between character assassination and your character just--evolving into a jackass, and how it’s OK to have your character change into a jackass, especially after trauma. I felt this need to really have to defend this ancient writing technique that people have been using since about as long as stories have been around.

Then I remembered “Oh yeah, I’m just making this point because a few number of very loud idiots on the internet want to have very lukewarm hot-takes about popular characters solely because they enjoy baiting people on twitter into getting into week-long arguments that don’t go anywhere.” and I just...let it go. I let it just...go into the ether. Ah. The peace that comes when you already know you’re right.

But anyway, back to Yugioh, which thankfully doesn’t take a stance on this nuanced subject, and only presents this very serious problem without actually offering a solution (because there isn’t a one fit’s all solution to falling off the deep end and getting into drugs and murder), Mai decides to just go and blame this decision she made on anyone else. Because, why take responsibility for your actions, when you can pin it on people who were on the other side of the freakin planet when it happened?

Like, I just want to remind y’all that she was in ATLANTIS.

I wonder how good the cell reception is in ATLANTIS.

I just...Mai is like in her mid twenties maybe thirty’s. She’s so arbitrarily old that she plays Yugi’s Mom in the video game spinoff where they’re reincarnations of medieval times. That’s how old she is.

Imagine if you made some epically BAD decisions because you were jealous of some teenager’s success and didn’t want to be weak anymore, and then you confronted those teens, and said “This is all your fault.”

Imagine looking someone as dysfunctional as Joey Wheeler and telling him “You made me like this” because lollllllll

And I present this as a joke but like basically this happens all freakin time. We’ve all had a friend like Mai. Past tense of course, because it’s really hard to keep a friend like Mai for very long. (One of my friend’s who went Mai destroyed my apartment one summer and then literally blamed it on me for going to California for 2 months and leaving her unattended.) But like...don’t let Mai’s do it to you. They can get better, but only if it’s their choice, really. You can’t force them to save themselves.

But, as Mai was finally ready to give up cards and probably improve her quality of life by a huge degree, unfortunately, she got sucked right back into the trap.

Bro note: being a serial murderer cultist is basically working at McDonald's in this universe so maybe this wasn’t even that weird?

But that aside, this is alllllmost like a dark version of “Mai got into an abusive relationship to fill the void in her heart” except she’s not even really dating this guy? Like she hates this guy? He’s just kinda there?

Y’all I really can’t tell if Valon is in an abusive relationship with Mai who is using him for power or if she’s in an abusive relationship with him because he only wants her pretty face and wants to kill Joey because Joey liked her once--and maybe it’s both? Maybe both of these people are just...really bad for each other?

Overall Joey is kind of tossed into this not-a-love-triangle and I’m like

“Hey show? show? Am I supposed to....were any these people ever dating? Is there supposed to be an implied history? Am I supposed to get attached to this?” because I mean...the only character who was able to get some actual physical romance on this show was Pegasus when he macked the ghost of his dead wife because, again, Pegasus is the freakin king of this entire show. Of course HE can do it.

But have this show clarify what the hell is happening between Valon and Mai? I’m gonna take a bet that we will never get to see it beyond Valon being like “Ain’t she a beaut!” Like Steve Irwin talking to an alligator, and Mai just pretending he doesn’t exist. Yugioh romances are so completely one way every single time. If something more than that happens, I’ll be

shook.

Anyway, as all the children on the show keep repeating over and over again, they haven’t had any contact with Mai since she left the freakin country and they went back to High School.

And so someone threatens to kill himself, as is Yugioh tradition, and someone else barks at him to NOT kill himself, as is also tradition, and they decide to play real cards next episode.

This whole entire episode, PS, Joey went out of his way to just...not play cards. that was this whole episode. Way to draw out a card game over three episodes, I guess.

Anyway if you want to read these from the start you can do so by clicking the link here

#yugioh #ygo #episode recap #photo recap #Yugi muto #mai valentine #Valon #joey wheeler #Tristan Taylor #Tea Gardner #That moustache sideburns guy? I think his name is Raphael or something?#S4 #Ep 8 #PS I just noticed my episodes were numbered wrong #so that's nice #I may also decide to do some tagging shenanigans so you can have a link to read which season you would like to go to instead of just from S1 #but that will be when I get bored over christmas I have some client stuff to wrap up right now

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lizzybeth1986 · 5 years

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Quick Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 6

• It's YEEHAW time everyone!

• And also raise a middle finger to logic as we see the MC wear something that she should have probably lent to the Platinum MC for a country performance, rather than for farm work.

• There's also the bit where she randomly takes a pregnancy test coz she feels nauseous (yes I know. It's plot related and is probably done to show a false negative. But you need to time these things, MC! The best time to look for a double line is closer to the time you're supposed to be having your period, if your period is regular).

• Screenshot Credits:

Hana: @pixieferry

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan

Maxwell: The Abhirio YouTube channel.

• These are the tags you can block if you don't want to see these posts: #long post, #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs.

• Drake has an AUNT? Please don't give me any more family members, I'm done dealing with the ones he already has.

• I'm wondering if Leona exists so that PB can do some serious retconning on Bianca's behalf. After all, when she appeared in the Drake playthroughs of Book 3, there wasn't much of a positive reception for her - with some players even saying that the MC should have a few choice words to say to her - and for good reason.

• Title: Home, Home on the Range

So whatever little knowledge I do have about a place like Texas is from films and pop culture, so this might not be new information to you but it is to me! 😁 So I'm probably going to be a gazillion times more excited about sharing it than you guys might be to read it! Bear with me for a sec.

From what I'm reading, "Home, Home on the Range" seems to a western folk song that's so popular it's considered an unofficial anthem in that region. Its origin was from a poem called "My Western Home" from a Kansas native called Dr Brewster M Highly, in 1872 (it was even made Kansas' state song in 1945?). The lyrics are very...Drake:

Where the air is so pure, and the zephyrs so free,

The breezes so balmy and light,

That I would not exchange my home on the range,

For all of the cities so bright.

Mostly a very idyllic, glorified portrait of country life. You find similar sentiments in Drake's diamond scene this chapter.

• Alternative Title: We Just Needed An Excuse to Use the BSC Soundtrack Twice.

• So we meet Bianca, Drake's mother, this chapter. If you married him this is the second time you're seeing her, and if you married anyone else this is the first time and you have no clue who she is until Drake introduces her to you. She also mentions in the Drake playthrough that this is not the kind of welcome she was hoping to give her son and daughter-in-law.

• We also meet Leona, Bianca's older sister and Drake's aunt. She's extremely unimpressed with this group of nobles and largely seems to blame the nobility in general for whisking away her younger sister, leaving her alone to manage the ranch?

• She pretends not to listen much to Cordonian news while talking to Liam, but seems to have the time to keep up with Cordonian gossip while talking to us - and luckily you can call her out on it too.

• She seems the type that likes a rebellious Duchess/Queen, going by her responses to the more sarcastic options from the MC.

Hmm. This scene does two things: one, it establishes that the ranch is facing financial problems, in terms of money and staffing, and two, it possibly may build up to why Bianca had to return to the States. Both I think might become important points in the coming chapters.

• Bianca seems intent on not letting her children know anything about the fraught situation at her ranch, but Leona is having none of it. You either do your work and do it well, or she will put you through your paces. Which is exactly what is happening with Bertrand now.

• The whole theme of "we need to get pregnant, and fast" returns with the presence of Savannah, who greets us with a very excited, sociable Bartie in tow. You can choose to either pick him up and pay attention to him, ask Savannah to figure out what he wants, or ignore him completely. Whatever you choose, the topic of you becoming a mother will come up (either she comments on how you're a natural, or she will tell you that you'll eventually be able to read your own baby's signals). Savannah now joins a long, long line of people who will talk to us as if we're already pregnant (her fiancé will join this list in a couple minutes too, don't worry).

• Speaking of parents, the sole dad of the (extended) group - Bertrand - is nowhere to be found. Bianca is all praise, Leona is Unimpressed™, and Maxwell is shocked that the guy who swore never to touch fowl again after witnessing a flooded peacock enclosure is now chasing chickens. The group overall can't believe it.

• Bertrand is, in fact, chasing chickens.

• So here's the other issue that will come up. Having eventually convinced Savannah that he is serious about her and Bartie, he now wants to win the approval of the family. Bianca is more than ready to accept him, Leona is...Unimpressed™.

• This sets stage for Problem 3 of the Goings On at The Walker Ranch: Bertrand is desperate for approval and Leona seems pretty set on not giving him that. So I'm pretty sure getting her to realize that Savannah's fiancé means business and there is actually something for her to respect about him - if not love - is pretty much one of the loose ends we will have to tie up in the course of the Texas chapters.

• Savannah's laid out some clothes for everyone, so everyone gets a 'country' look and a cowboy hat.

• Like always, the outfit options come with different reactions based on the LI you're romancing:

Liam's looks nice I think, Hana is pretty (I haven't the foggiest idea of what would on a ranch so I wouldn't know how feasible - or not - these two outfits would be), Maxwell looks like he's dressed for the ranch AND for winter and Drake looks okay (like...there's a theme or something with his outfits, like he needs to have a LOT of a particular colour. Denim on denim, brown shirt brown hat).

• While Liam and Esther collectively swoon over each other, Savannah is all shocked and like "you both know we're still here, right?". Uh huh, you had no problem fangirling over Bertrand's "stern but sexy eyebrows" in public but suddenly me flirting a little with my husband is too much for you 😑

A little too much??? Listen, Esther has worn a hat that looked like it swallowed a hundred smaller hats on the way and cried in JOY at the sight. She has COMFORTED a widowed grieving Queen Mother and STARED DOWN Hana's awful parents, all with that honking big hat obscuring her face. How does a tiny puny cowboy hat with a bracelet thingy around it even compare??

• In the kitchen, Bertrand continues his woeful attempts to make conversation with Leona by revealing just how little he knows about running a ranch. Leona is Unimpressed™ (Betrand: How are the crops? Leona: We have cattle 😑. Bertrand: Who...ate the crops? Leona: 😑😑😑)

• Leona's like the adult version of the Unimpressed Sikh Child in Bollywood Hogwarts:

• We get darkly roasted coffee to help us gear up for the day's work at the ranch, and it's quite...the mouthfull. If you succeed in drinking it, you get high on coffee, and if you react to the strong taste, Leona makes a smart-alec comment about how "her highness must have wanted a chilled latte" (I forget which drink she mentioned but something similar) or something. Wish there was an option to tell her "Bertrand didn't tell me about the stick up your ass" (callback! From which book? Guess!)

• You feel slightly nauseous on the way, which is a bit of a set up to the end of the chapter.

• We split up into teams. Liam and Maxwell help with getting the hay for the horses, Hana and Drake help with sorting the tack.

Liam is a quick learner (and learns stuff just by observing), Maxwell is confused between the interests of horses and dogs, Drake is even more confused at Hana's speed, and PB has forgotten that Hana has actually ridden actual horses and would actually have at least a working idea of what actual tack with an actual horse would look like. Sure she may not have MADE tack for those horses, but you can miss me with that "imaginary horse friends" bullshit.

• See Team TRR, this is what happens when you focus on nothing else but Hana's skills. Even you fail to keep track.

• We feed the chickens (and I can see what I think are shades of Hana's upbringing in the way she says "wait your turn! one at a time!"...with chickens).

• ...there was a "no royal pets" policy in the palace that Liam waived?? No wonder we could get a corgi and Penelope could bring her poodles to court as soon as Liam became King!

• Re: Liam talking about having stuffed animals rather than pets and stating that he and Hana were on the same boat. Et tu, Liam? HOW MANY TIMES DOES HANA HAVE TO TELL YOU GUYS SHE NEVER HAD TOYS.

• I'm imagining poor young Maxwell realizing that peacocks don't like hugs and now I'm sad ☹️

• So the set up to the group scene is that none of these characters have truly experienced the joy of cuddling cute pets. It's not much even by way of a group scene, just a cute scene where the MC can direct Tiny the little calf to cuddle all these sad sad people (pushed into embroidery lessons and diplomacy sessions as children!) and cure Bertrand of his cow-suspicion (cowspicion?). The more pets you have with you the cuter it is, coz the two corgis go about acquainting themselves with everyone - the cat, the cows, everybody.

• ROE REFERENCE! We see Jess and Blake spearheading a successful business as caterers and wedding planners (did Jess take coaching from Chaz's sister-in-law Carmen? 😁) and they leave it vague (as expected, since Jess' romantic relationship with Blake is determinant - as is the possibility that Liam and Jess could be related by marriage if the RoE MC chose Leo lol) whether they're romantically involved or not, but at least this way I know they're happy with their jobs!

• Apparently they'd catered at enough disaster weddings that they decided they could do a better job

• I have two questions:

1. Did Leo ever recommend Carmen? I'm guessing not since based on whether the RoE MC married him or not, he'd probably feel more comfortable recommending family/friends than someone who - in a different playthrough - probably never really met him.

2. Why is Liam helping Bertrand and Savannah with contacts for their wedding when we ended up doing most of the searching and finding ourselves?? 🧐

• BertVannah seem to want a mix of local and Cordonian traditions: Savannah wants to recapture her parents' wedding by riding a horse down the aisle, and Bertrand asks Liam to officiate, as a royal. Maxwell and Hana will be in charge of entertainment and decorations...and the MC should not move a muscle because Bertrand has already decreed us pregnant.

• Savannah's ex Chuck is a buff ginger, and an already insecure Bertrand is made even more insecure at the sight of him. Another on the list of things PB expects us to fix in the Walker Ranch. Drake owes me both in cash, fancy hats and a lifetime supply of free smoked BBQ ribs after all this. The kind of shit a pregnant royal is expected to do...

• Time for Drake diamond scene - which is a mostly fluffy scene that takes place close to a river nearby which has a great view of the sunrise and sunset, and a ride atop a kayak.

• Here's the important stuff you can get from this scene:

- Drake knows how to build stuff (we knew this already, but here Drake talks specifically about how he and Savannah would build rafts)

- Drake sucks at taking compliments, but Drake stans who saw their MC's intro to TRH already knew that 🤭

- You get to flex your paddling muscles. Drake is...Impressed™

- Lovely sunshine

- A cute story about how Drake and Savannah had a canonball contest at this river, and happy memories of his Dad being just their dad for once, not dad + King Guard

- Drake gets to talk about the mark his father left on him, and how carefree he used to be before Jackson's death

- You can revive the cannonball contest with Drake before you head back to the estate, and if you're married you share a passionate kiss. The writers went to great lengths to describe how passionate the kiss wasqqq

If you're married to Drake, this spot is described as 'romantic' and 'private', the MC makes a joke about being the "First Mate" of Drake's heart, the usual variations. Drake also mentions that he hopes to emulate his father's way of parenting once he himself becomes a father. I'm also guessing the story of how his father and mother used to visit this lake before they had children would have an implied added importance to a married Drake trying for a child.

Funny how the assassination attempt on Liam always ends up revolving more around what it did to Drake than what it did to Liam. Both in the original Book 2 Italian Restaurant Scene where it was first referenced, and here (Drake's restaurant scene is also the only scene that highlights how that particular attack affected Liam - if you don't buy this scene, the attacks are mentioned in a more offhand way by Constantine when we confront him, and Liam still doesn't have a word to say). Stop. What happened to Liam happened to him. Stop making it all about Drake.

• Also why does Drake keep insisting the MC helped him find Savannah? She didn't. He spotted the envelope. He saw the address. He deduced where in Paris it was and tried to check it out. The only help we could provide was convincing him to stay and listen to her, and even that was optional.

• The MC wakes up wondering if she's going to feel nauseous, which then leads to the realization that it could be morning sickness. That's the most random race to use a pregnancy test I've seen.

• The result is negative, and the LI wakes up to the MC telling them about the result of the pregnancy test. The reactions to the news are identical. They follow roughly this template:

I can headcanon that Hana is actually feeling and understanding the MC's pain when she says "that's not silly at all", but I won't. I refuse to do the heavy work for the writers.

• In any case, there are some guests, and only Hana seems to know who they are.

• My face as it goes from seeing Kiara, Olivia, Penelope and Madeleine (yes, in that order):

• Sooo it looks like this week we're going to have a clash of the country and the courtly. Uh oh. I don't see this ending very well...unless there's a deus ex machina coming our way.

• General Thoughts:

- This chapter is filler, as expected, but it's the kind of filler meant to set up the major problems in that place. And there's plenty hinted at in this chapter alone: solving the financial troubles of the ranch, the clash of cultures that will come with the court ladies being guests, winning over Leona, learning about Drake's and also Bianca's past, Bertrand's insecurities. It's going to take a couple chapters to untangle all that!

- My guess is that the MC is possibly pregnant, but got a false negative (esp if she's nowhere near her expected time for her period), and will probably find out during Bertrand and Savannah's wedding? IDK. Most people I know will wait to see if they get their periods first (I did that too, waited a couple days after the expected day just to be sure), because that's when your hCG levels are high enough to show in your urine sample. That was a waste of a perfectly good pregnancy test, MC!

- The variations are very few, besides the scene where they all get new outfits and references to the MC and her spouse by different people including Blake and Jess. Perhaps there may be an LI scene coming soon.

- I mentioned earlier that Leona may be there as a way for the writing team to retcon Bianca's departure, since in the original series all we are told us was that she "was...struggling" after Jackson's death and left for the States at some point, leaving her children behind. Not a lot of people were very happy about this and though she was portrayed as a positive character in Book 3 (Drake's playthrough), it wasn't convincing enough. Leona is possibly there as a way to soften the audience to Bianca, and perhaps to get us a plausible reason for her leaving without her children. I'm not sure what could justify not taking them along, but okay.

- So Drake in his scene tells us that they came to the ranch as kids, but there is that matter of Savannah having been there long enough at some point to have had a boyfriend. I'm wondering if she spent some time on the ranch while Drake had gone to college.

- Also...if that's what happened, why was France even an option for her to bring up Bartie if she'd been in touch with her mother. Why did France, a place where she had very few contacts or living experience, win out over a place she was familiar with and where she had family?

- Leona's very Drake-like...but with an actual job that she's probably good at.

- Leona's also going to be Unimpressed™ for the most of her time in this book, with her probably becoming a little more impressed towards the end. Told you she'd be The Unimpressed Sikh Child (if you still have trouble with this meme, it's a character from a Bollywood film about a magical school called Aabra Ka Dabra. Here's some additional context from desi comedians and former Pretentious Movie Reviewers Kanan Gill and Biswa Kalyan Rath to illustrate why Unimpressed Sikh Child is so awesome:)

"Stop trying to impress people. Impress people with how unimpressed you are." If that isn't what Leona is doing. One wry expression and that's all it takes for all of Cordonia's royalty and nobility to fall over each other to prove themselves to her.

- Leona is an ass but you've got to respect the way she plays that game.

- I hope the writers don't forget that Kiara and Savannah were...yknow...good friends. Given how badly she was treated in Book 3 (and the narrative treated her really, really badly. Like I'm pretty sure some of you might have no idea just how badly she's been treated), I have serious doubts.

- Will we get a Hana or Maxwell diamond scene next? A good one or mostly just fluff? Let's see.

- Will we get another flashback scene? Maybe. It's possible. Bianca would remember something.

- One thing I do know for sure is that there is going to be more of Perfect Angel Savannah and Bumbling Bertrand. I'm not looking forward to it.

• Next: I'll be doing TRR Book 1's QT for Chapter 6 as well! Hopefully it will be ready by Friday. As for this series...until next week, folks!

#long post #the royal heir #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #texas walker ranch

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vankoya · 7 years

Text

Extra Cheese, Please!

✽ Read the indecorous follow-up piece, Less Cheese, More Please!

Genre | Best Friends to Lovers / Housemates AU.

Pairing | Jeon Jeongguk / Feminine Reader.

Words | 9,524 words.

Conspectus | Jeongguk dislikes three things: 1. Having his Overwatch marathon nights interrupted, 2. Dealing with drunk people while he is sober, and 3. Cheesy ramyeon. His best friend slash housemate slash insufferable crush is the drunk girl with an incessant craving for super cheesy ramyeon who interrupts his Overwatch marathon night, and ultimately proves that the aforementioned meal looks just as gross coming up than it does when it is first in the bowl.

Luckily, there is always a silver lining. Even in the worst of situations.

Warnings | Swearing. Alcohol. Vomiting as a result of being overly drunk. Sexual innuendos. Fondling. Jeongguk cannot deal with cleavage.

Jeongguk guesses that it is nearing one in the morning when his phone buzzes four times in succession. The vibrations occur no more than a few seconds apart against his balls, which is where the device has slipped down to nestle over the course of the past eight minutes.

He knows he should probably reach between his thighs and retrieve it to check the slew of texts that tickle his dick through a pair of grey sweatpants. He is also ninety-nine percent positive that he knows precisely who the sender is. But the military bomb payload is that fucking close to being at the Deadlock Gang’s cave hideout, just having passed Checkpoint B, and Jeongguk is quite possibly playing his best Escort game since he planted his sweet ass on the living room couch. The four instant ramyeon packets that he inhaled at eight o’clock are still burning off in his system. Well-needed fuel for a long, uninterrupted night of Overwatch.

Well, the chances of that peaceful gaming occurring were narrowed to considerably slim once a certain someone had slipped out of her bedroom and announced she was going out for cocktails. She had managed to breeze through the front door before Jeongguk could really have enough of an opportunity to stare at her magnificent ass in those jeans. But if his calculations were correct, he has made it through a solid five hours of tranquility so far.

When he sees the attacking team’s Lucio put up a sound barrier, Jeongguk cannot help but blast a grin of victory. He unleashes his McCree’s deadeye, obliterating the entire team. There is a triumphant shout that is echoed amongst his own teammates, and he nearly throws his goddamn PS4 controller at the television when he fist-pumps the air out of excitement. Through the headset, Yugyeom makes a comment amongst his hooting along the lines of: “McCree, that OP motherfucker!” while Jeongguk spams McCree’s: “I’m the quick, you’re the dead,” voice line over and over in the final seconds that the payload reaches its destination and the game comes to a close.

Earning play of the game was expected after the shit he pulled last minute. Though Jeongguk finds himself surprised when he gets ten votes out of the twelve players, considering the opposing team is currently shouting a stream of insults. Because yeah, McCree is overpowered as fuck. But the sheer laziness in him cannot bear the thought of having to train up on a different hero, at this stage.

“I’m out,” Jeongguk announces to Yugyeom as he reaches down to grab his phone, beginning to vibrate against his balls again due to his lack of response. Yugyeom laughs, the connection slightly static.

“Gotta get your girlfriend, huh?“

“Fuck you, not my girlfriend,” Jeongguk barks before exiting the main screen, albeit with a tiny smile, and then shifts his headset to sit around his neck. When he clicks the home button of his phone, he is greeted by a screen lit up with eight notifications, confirming two things.

It is definitely past one in the morning, and it is definitely who he was expecting to be.

Jeongguk gets his heart stuck in his throat, bites his tongue and stupidly grins at the last text that was sent, chest tight at the thought of her missing him. He can picture that dumbass drunk smile of her’s so clearly; a sight that he has seen enough times to have it burned into the very cells of his brain. It is the one thing that is beyond fucking adorable when paired with her glassy eyes, staring roundly at him while she perches that amazing ass on his lap. Right on the zipper of his jeans so that the jagged metal presses right against his dick and– Fuck, too far.

He chances a glance at his sweatpants and yeah, shit, he is a little bit hard now. Jeongguk slaps himself, firm enough to properly wake up from his unexpectedly lascivious daze, and then he quickly punches in his passcode.

He sputters and incredulously shakes his head, running a hand through his hair because hell yeah, she is a twelve alright. More than that even, a hundred in his books, if numbers had to define her. Maybe Jeongguk should not think such thoughts about his best friend of seven years slash university flatmate of two. But then again, her attractiveness is common knowledge amongst their friends and all those alike who encounter her. As clear as the sky is blue and the grass is green. Simply, Jeongguk is just confirming the obvious and nothing more than that.

Yeah, definitely nothing more than that. Totally still not semi-hard over the thought of her drunk smile, of all the boner-inducing things about her.

Before he can text her back, the theme song to Legend of Zelda is filtering through the living room and the ugliest photo he has of her is appearing blown up on the screen. The image is one that is zoomed right in on her face from where she breaches the ocean, pixelated by the added effect of it being a screenshot. The fast motion of her coming up after a wave had crushed her makes it appear as though her face is being dragged down by gravity; mouth parted in a gasp; completely wet hair plastered to her scalp, and presented at such an angle that she looks bald.

It is fucking hideous. Jeongguk had laughed so hard that he peed himself a little the first time he noticed it in one of the snapshots that he had taken on his DLSR at the beach that day, and he never let her live it down. But they did come to a mutual agreement to not allow such a monstrosity to be released to the general public on an unfortunate Facebook birthday post, or as a tactic for revenge. Otherwise, Jeongguk would similarly be having a picture of himself exposed as far as the eye can see. The one where he is slumped backwards over their coffee table, blacked out and wearing nothing but a pair of her pretty pink panties, the tip of his sad and soft dick poking out the leg hole.

Jeongguk stares at the caller ID photo a moment longer, eyes watering with hilarity before he swipes his finger across the screen to answer with, “Well, well, if it isn’t–“

“Th–The sexiest motherfucker you know?” slurs through the other end of the line, nearly drowned out by the commotion she most likely sits cross-eyed within. “Who s’about to be joined by a much less sexy motherfucker, hmm?”

“Let me guess,” Jeongguk runs his tongue over his teeth, unhooking the headset from his neck and placing it on the coffee table, “I’m the less sexy motherfucker?” he says as he reaches for the remote to turn off the television.

“Ding ding, ten points to Gryffindor,” she whoops and giggles, and god, Jeongguk melts a little as he stands up but definitely not because he thinks her intoxicated laughter sounds fucking adorable. No way. “Y’gonna come collect the goods?”

He stuffs his feet into a battered pair of Vans and reaches for his black parka, looking like a damn slob and all with nothing but a dark shirt and his grey sweats underneath. He has no plans to stay longer than absolutely necessary at the bar, anyway. “I can’t think of any goods I need to collect,” Jeongguk sighs, swiping his house keys and wallet from the dish atop the entry cabinet and making way towards the front door. “A drunken mess that unfortunately so happens to be my best friend sounds more accurate.”

“At leas’ she’s got a great ass!” she defends herself, Jeongguk mentally agrees, then literally has to slap himself across the face again for focusing too long on the mental image of it, which he has copied in high-definition into his memory. Her voice becomes distant from the speaker, shouts out, “No you may not touch it, fuckin’ perv! Go piss in yo’ girly fuckin’ Cosmopolitan, yeah?!”

“Please don’t get yourself killed before I get there,” Jeongguk raises his voice a little in hopes of her hearing over the music. A smidgen of the tension that is suddenly squeezing at his chest is released when he hears her indignant huff right against the speaker. “I’m gonna be pissed if I walk all that way just to find you’re dead.”

“It’s like, one kilometre tops, pussy,” she retorts, the eye roll practically audible as Jeongguk locks the front door and then heads down the hallway to the elevator. “A light jog’ll get you here in what, five minutes. So start runnin’, boy.”

“Fuck no. I’m hanging up. Stay alive.” He mutters, punching repeatedly at the elevator button as if it will make the doors open faster.

Distantly, he wonders why he is in such a goddamn rush. He narrows it down to just wanting to get back home again as soon as humanly possible; to return to his disturbed Overwatch marathon. Yeah, of course that is why.

“Thanks babe, you th’ best!” she sings, hangs up before he can, and Jeongguk jams his finger against the button with a greater ferocity until the elevator dings open after what feels to be centuries of waiting. (It was not even thirty seconds.)

He ends up speedily jogging the entire way to the bar to build up his blood circulation because it is cold as tits outside, of course. Definitely not because it means he will get to see her sooner, make sure she is safe and sound and not being leered at by some drunken, creepy lecher.

Nope. No way at all.

They say that there is always a silver lining to every unfortunate and downright dreadful situation. Jeongguk is currently wondering where the fuck such lining happens to be once he finally finds a particular girl that he was forced and threatened to brave the cold in order to collect, only to be met by the pout that she knows gets him all pliable and willing. He does not know it yet, but the silver lining is still coming. Slowly, gradually, but it will.

Even if, right now, that shit seems as likely as getting a blow job from Beyonce.

“How much?” he shouts to be heard over the pounding music, repeats for the second time because he refuses to believe the sum that the bartender first announced.

At Jeongguk’s hip slouches the self-proclaimed goods. The treacherous best friend, who keeps having to be hiked up by his arm curled tightly around her waist since her bones liquefied by liquor are failing to keep her standing. She has that goofy smile pulling at her plush lips, and Jeongguk is torn between wanting to slap from her face, or to kiss it away instead.

The bartender checks the amount again, then leans towards Jeongguk with a somewhat empathetic expression to call back, “Rounded to one hundred and eighty-four dollars.”

On the inside, Jeongguk might be crying a little. Funny how the reason behind his internal agony is also the same thing that is keeping him slightly sane through his mental calculations of how much money he has left in his bank account. Pressed against his side with an intoxicated, unfocused gaze that stares up at him too endearingly for him to be one hundred percent angry. He is at ninety-nine point nine-nine percent. Okay, maybe on the cusp of no less than ninety percent. Goddamn.

“I’m letting you go for a second,” Jeongguk warns her and begins to slowly recede his arm, giving her enough time to support herself on the bar. Rather than doing this, she wraps her own arms around his waist and nestles under his armpit.

In any other situation than the apparent one, where he has to aid his best friend’s spontaneous cocktail night with his own miserable funds, Jeongguk would be fighting to tame the glee. The kind that would be demanding to tuck her closer, and perhaps press his nose to the crown of her head so he can breathe in the soft scent of her vanilla shampoo. Unfortunately, no matter how much he wills himself to be dreaming that his weekly budget is about to be kicked repeatedly in the balls and that maybe, instead, they are just at home on the couch and it is one of those movie nights where she gets extra cuddly for no apparent reason, Jeongguk is still stuck in the apparent situation.

He glares at his tormenter, who continues to latch like a lock around his body, and barely manages to keep his tears from falling as he retrieves his wallet and flips it open, fingers shaky. An extra tug is required from the bartender to loosen the measly grip Jeongguk’s fingertips have on his debit card when he hands it over.

“Girlfriend?” The bartender politely chips in as he swipes the card through the eftpos machine and then faces the keypad towards Jeongguk. As Jeongguk punches in the pin number, the bartender darts his gaze up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Ex-girlfriend?”

“Neither, and I don’t know if that makes it better or worse,” Jeongguk smiles, the kind that conveys his immense internal suffering. The bartender gives a sympathetic nod and hands back Jeongguk’s card before rushing off to continue serving drinks.

The latest, monstrous attachment on Jeongguk’s side squeezes him with her feeble, jelly-drunk arms. Albeit the situation, something softens inside of him when he grabs her chin so that she will properly face him. She blinks languidly like an overtired kitten, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, lipstick smeared a little on her chin. Not in the way that suggests somebody else had their mouth on her own. It is definitely the familiar mark caused by the back of her hand rubbing against her lips after taking a shot. Jeongguk is still weighing up whether he prefers the latter to the former.

“‘m tired, Jeonggukie,” she whines, slumps closer to him, and he wraps his arm around her waist again, hoisting her up with a displeased sound.

“All that talk about wanting me to have a drink with you, and now you’re making me pay the bill and run?” Jeongguk teasingly chides, and she unabashedly nods against his right pectoral. Alarm bells start ringing in his head when her weight against his side grows a tad too close to the ‘falling unconscious’ side of the spectrum. “Woah, hey– No. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me, ___. You still have to walk home.”

She hooks her chin on his shoulder and conjures that goofy, heart-melting grin that has Jeongguk crying a little on the inside, because he is such an absolute sucker for her. In that moment, her pout becomes the bane of his existence as she says, “Jus’ carry me, yeah?”

“Hell fucking no.”

Jeongguk carries her on his back the entire damn way.

By the time they reach the front door of their apartment, Jeongguk’s knees are weakly trembling and he feels utterly winded. Maybe it is a sign that he needs to get back into the gym on the weekends instead of indulging Yugyeom with Overwatch marathons. Or, more favourably, he needs to find a new best friend who will not 1. have him pay for her expensive, alcoholic ways, and then 2. make him piggyback her through the bitter cold night while she is practically deadweight against his shoulders in her partially asleep state.

“For someone who was calling me a pussy because I couldn’t be bothered walking to the bar, you’re awfully hypocritical in riding my back the whole way home,” Jeongguk says, gasping a little, jiggling the key in the lock and bustling them both inside once the latch clicks.

She clambers off his back, staggers slightly, and then catches herself on the back of the couch. Miraculously, she appears minutely more sober than she was twenty minutes ago. “Could’ve got an Uber.”

Jeongguk kicks off his shoes. “What, and paid him with the moths flying out of my wallet?”

She shrugs. “It would’ve cos’ like, three dollars.”

“That three dollars is lasting us until next Thursday, thanks to a certain someone who just made me blow my pay that I only got four days ago,” he hisses, sliding out of his jacket and hanging it over one of the dining table chairs.

And there it is again. That silly little grin tugging softly at her lips as she wiggles her hips against the couch. Strategically, Jeongguk briskly turns on his heel and strides into the kitchen before she can get her nails in him. Moulding him like the pathetic putty that he is. He can practically hear her pout when he ignores her blatant attempt at melting down his cold facade. Then, her heels unsteadily click across the vinyl flooring to watch him pull out a saucepan and fill it halfway with water, positioning it on the largest hotplate.

Jeongguk does not cast his eyes her way, even if every inch of his body, particularly his dick, is demanding that he do so. Because holy eight-pound six-ounce sweet baby Jesus in his cradle of hay, he did not notice in the dim lighting of the bar, but she is wearing a black v-cut sweater that exposes her shoulders and collarbones and a barely there shadow of cleavage. That, in itself, is saying something since her tits are a size that would fit neatly in his palms without any overflow. Just a nice, small and cute handful. God, he has never seen her with even a hint of cleavage like this before. This is unchartered territory that he has no idea of how to face, especially when he can barely cope with the sight of her amazing ass in any kind of legwear.

Jeongguk, staring blankly at the packet ramyeon in his hands, mentally forces himself not to get fucking hard like a teenage boy in the middle of their goddamn kitchen.

“What’cha doin’, good lookin’?” she hums, now perched on a breakfast bar stool with the side of her face mashed into the heel of her palm, elbow propped up on the kitchen counter. In his periphery, those small, adorable breasts spill from the v-neck onto the white laminate as a result of her slouched over position. Every single one of his nerve-endings is aflame.

Jeongguk releases the air trapped tightly in his lungs and then proceeds to make way towards the slowly simmering pot of water. He dares not a single glance at her, for the fabric of his sweatpants leaves little to the imagination, and she has definitely recognised a semi in them before.

“I’m making you something to eat since you always get hungry after drinking. Also, because I’m the greatest best friend that this world could’ve ever graced you with.” Jeongguk’s eyes are glued to his hands as he begins tearing into the packets. He dumps the dehydrated noodles and seasonings into the water, and desperately tries not to think about how sweet her tits would look in his hands. Praying that she takes the bait, he adds on as an afterthought, “Why don’t you get changed into something comfortable, and the food will be ready when you are?”

There is a pause, a moment where Jeongguk’s tongue pulses like a heart in his mouth, and he tries not to break into a nervous sweat. He can practically hear his own words clicking into place in her mind; connecting, disconnecting, reconnecting; fumbling through the drunken haze that still lays thick on her thought process. Twenty seconds pass, and he ends up so on edge that when she slaps her open palm against the countertop, he startles so abruptly that he rips open a seasoning packet with the ferocity of a gorilla. Beef flavouring bursts over his shirt and the stovetop in a cloud of brown dust.

“I shall go do that,” she announces. Jeongguk, going from nearly hyperventilating out of surprise to having a coughing fit from inhaling seasoning particles, sees her slither like a lizard off the stool out of his watering periphery. Except drunk, and with a goddamn, freshly fucking harvested cleavage.

He only lets a tear roll down his cheek once she has staggered down the hallway. This is Jeon Jeongguk, at the ripe age of twenty-three, accepting that he may die tonight.

Despite this possibility, he goes about cleaning up the spilled beef flavouring, saving as much of it as he can and depositing it in the simmering pot. The ramyeon-making itself goes rather smoothly. He manages to not spill the boiling water all over himself, nor accidentally rub his eyes after touching the chilli sauce like he did that one, hellish time that rendered him blind for just under three hours. He stirs the noodle broth and listens to her clomp around her bedroom, the occasional grunt and groan emitting when she cracks her hip against her desk, or whacks her shoulder against the frame of her walk-in closet.

She remerges in an acceptably less boner-inducing outfit. Consisting of one of his black hoodies that nearly reaches her knees, and assumedly (he prays, at least) a pair of unseeable boyshorts underneath. Jeongguk starts straining the ramyeon into a bowl.

“That’s mine,” he says about the hoodie while she clambers back onto the stool, looking soft and cuddly in her bundle of cotton and fleece. Her attire may not be as threatening to his vulnerable dick, but it is definitely as murderous to his weakened heart.

“Finders keepers, losers are weepers,” she immediately fires back, settling into her previous palm-smushed-against-face position, waiting for him to finish plating up the ramyeon. “Dun’ forget the cheese, either.”

At that, his whole body shudders with repulsion. For the first time since the growth of her cleavage was made apparent, Jeongguk faces her directly and hopes that the sheer suffering she puts him through is perfectly translated through his withered expression when he says, “You are disgusting,” before opening the fridge anyway and retrieving the container of pre-sliced easy-melt. “I will never understand how you can perform such sacrilege against the two holiest foods by combining them into the edible-equivalent of Hell.”

“Excuse you, cheesy ramyeon is the best gift this world has given us.” She frowns at the ceiling, thinks this over for a moment, and then corrects herself with, “Has given me, since I’m the best gift this world has ever given you.”

Jeongguk merely chuckles, does not deny it, because one may call him a deadset liar if he were to do so. Instead, he peels two slices of cheese out of the container and places them atop the bowl of steaming ramyeon, pressing them down with a fork so that they melt faster.

She makes an iffy little sound, somewhat of a whine, and says, “Extra cheese, please!”

“You’ll make yourself feel sick,” he warns, yet all she does is glare adorably at him until he caves like the weak man that he is and adds an extra two squares. A thought itches at the back of his mind, informing him that he is most likely going to regret this, and he brushes it away just as quickly as it forms. Under that beguiling gaze of hers, she could ask Jeongguk to stick chopsticks up his ass and impersonate a popsicle and he would.

An over-exaggeration, but you get the point.

“Alright, one extra cheesy ramyeon for the drunk girl with disgusting taste in food,” Jeongguk declares, reaching across the counter to place the dairy-laden bowl in front of her before grabbing her hand, putting the fork in her open palm and forcibly curling her fingers around it with his own. He holds her hand a moment longer than necessary between his own, grinning tightly, remaining to ignore the voice that is now screeching in his head that feeding her this is a very, very bad idea. “Bon appétit,” he finalises, and the deal is done.

She smiles up at him, eyes shining and all of her teeth on display. Jeongguk wonders what wars he must have ended in his past life to be rewarded with this girl of starlight and vanilla and honey who winds around him, softens him into warm and easy. Before he can further dwell on such a tender thought, she shovels a grotesque forkful of cheesy ramyeon into her mouth.

“Tfhanksh Jeonguffie,” she says around the stickiness, and Jeongguk, now the perfect picture of nonchalance, wordlessly turns on his heel and begins to clean up the dishes. Anything, really, to distract himself from projecting the small amount of vomit that has lurched up to the back of his throat at the horrendous meal making contact with those lips that deserve so much better.

Minutes slowly go by, stretching past two in the morning and beginning to progress towards quarter-past. Besides the sickening slurps that she makes behind him, and the clattering of the saucepan with a handful of dirty dishes from his own dinner being washed in the sink, no conversation is made, and it is comfortable. These moments are precisely why Jeongguk has not risked it yet; asking her the big question; the determiner as to whether their best friendship will advance into something more. If she were to deny him, he believes he would be able to handle it, but he knows well that such knowledge would be on her mind every time she looks his way. The awkward tension would ensue, she would overanalyse his every move, and he would become distant because he does not want her to get the wrong idea. They would anticipate the day that the lease on their apartment runs out so they can go their separate ways as soon as possible.

So, he keeps quiet and basks in the contentment that they have created together in their little home. At the end of the day, she is his best friend, and he could not imagine a future without her in it. No matter if they were romantically involved, or purely platonic. Sure, he would love to kiss her collarbones and put his hands on her hips and maybe – just maybe – tell her that he loves her in the morning glow of a lazy Sunday, whispered across the pillowcases. But he can live without that. He can be a big boy about it and move on.

He keeps telling himself this, at least. Soon, he will genuinely be convinced that he can do it.

“Jeongguk.”

“Mmm,” he hums in response, turning around when her follow-up is delayed, and he instantly notices how her expression has suddenly transformed.

Honestly, Usain Bolt could not even compare to how fast his ass moves. Jeongguk skirts around the kitchen counter, pulls her off the stool, and hastily guides her towards the sink while cursing under his breath.

“I feel…” she mumbles as Jeongguk takes out the plug and then gathers her hair up as well as he can manage, holding it in a loose bun at the crown of her head and cringing when her torso slightly convulses. “Like I’m gonna– Ugh–“

“Oh my god.”

Jeongguk swears he did not make her that much cheesy ramyeon. But dear fucking lord, the sheer amount that comes up and splashes into the sink is simply horrifying. The noodles must have expanded in her stomach for such an extensive volume to now be regurgitated in disgusting, yellow chunks that make his own stomach turn with wooziness. He cannot believe he thought cheesy ramyeon looked bad in the bowl, because it is appearing to be at least ten times worse in the form of barf.

“You owe me– Ugh, christ– So big after tonight, you little shit,” Jeongguk grunts at her between clenched teeth and gags when he gets a whiff of the stench. Like over-fermented dairy left out in the sun for weeks, doused in a hefty helping of vodka.

The sound she makes is awful when the next heave is unleashed onto the stainless steel, and she reaches one hand back from where it is braced on the counter to weakly pat his stomach. When she shakily murmurs, “I’ll give you the best blow of your life as thanks,” Jeongguk has to bite the wet, fleshy inner of his cheek to stop the visualisation of her words from drowning his mind until it is all he can think about.

“Don’t talk about sucking my dick while you’re vomiting,” he groans with a small tilt to the corners of his lips despite himself, collecting a loose strand of hair that is falling dangerously close to her mouth. She halfheartedly laughs before another surge of cheesy ramyeon makes its departure from her body, and Jeongguk dry-heaves in perfect synchronisation.

By the time the contents of her belly have been completely and utterly expelled, Jeongguk is admittedly feeling much weaker in the stomach than he was before her bout of throwing up. Especially after having to wash it down the drain. Once there is not an inch of cheesy noodles in sight, he gingerly carries her bridal-style into their shared bathroom and props her up on the sink, one hand on her waist to keep her steady and the other reaching for her toothbrush.

Jeongguk bites his lip to hide his smile when she leans forward and rests her forehead on his chest while he squeezes out a line of toothpaste. He wets the brush a little under the tap, and then takes her chin like he had back in the club, lifting it up so that he can see her sleepy, downright adorable face. Seriously, who looks this cute after vomiting up their breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all of the vodka sloshed in between?

“Open your mouth,” Jeongguk says, moving his fingers so they can squeeze her cheeks and make her lips pout like a fish. His heart weeps like the pathetic thing that it is at the sight.

She waggles her eyebrows to the best of her ability in her sobering, exhausted state. “What’re you going to put in there?”

“Not my dick, unfortunately for you,” Jeongguk chuckles, holding up the toothbrush, and she sighs loudly with faux disappointment. Well, he thinks she is joking. Surely she is.

Obediently, she opens her mouth. Jeongguk abruptly shoves the toothbrush in there and starts scrubbing at her pearly whites before he can think of the way she looks with her lipstick-smudged lips parted so obscenely like that.

His brain is the epitome of a keyboard smash.

It only glitches all the more when Jeongguk gradually comes to realise the entire position that they are both in; taking him over like a virus. His non-brushing hand still cups her small jaw. Glitch. Her bare thighs brush against his hips as she lightly swings her feet. Glitch. She blatantly stares at him, eyes half-lidded and looking like melted butter. Error: Jeon Jeongguk is no longer computing.

At least he can thank all of the deities that she is no longer wearing the Cleavage Sweater of Jeongguk’s Absolute Demise. Otherwise, he would have a bird’s eye view of the goods in question, and he, undoubtedly, would be a dead man.

Before he can linger on the dangerous thought of her small breasts while he is at this high-risk proximity, she makes a distressed gurgling sound. A sliver of Jeongguk’s sanity returns to him and he realises that toothpaste is spilling out of her mouth and onto his hand. With a panicked yelp, he yanks the toothbrush out of her mouth and she hurries to swivel around and spit out the accumulated mass of minty foam into the sink.

“Jesus H. Christ, Jeon,” she rasps, coughing once and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. Her glare is watery and suspicious. “Were you trying to drown me? Imagine that. Death by toothpaste.”

He sputters, swallowing down laughter. “Shit, sorry, I was just– Uh, thinking about something,” he mutters, sheepishly smiling and reaching around her to rinse off the toothbrush.

“‘bout what?” she hums, dipping her head down so she can cutely shove her face in his own. Jeongguk grunts and cranes his neck away, but she grins wider and follows him, accidentally bumping her nose against his jaw. “What’cha thinking about, huh?”

“Ugh, hey– Stop!” He lets the toothbrush clatter into the sink and smooshes her cheeks between his large palms, holding her still, approximately an inch away from his nose. Cautiously, Jeongguk leans back, redeems the blush that is steadily heating his own cheeks by saying, “I was just thinking about all the ways I’m going to make you repay me for making me deal with your drunk ass.”

She half-heartedly waggles her eyebrows. “Care to elaborate?”

“Oh, you know,” he says as he drops his hands to her knees, but he does not fucking know at all since he was thinking about her tits again. His barely functioning, overtired and exhausted brain manages to conjure a handful of weak options. “I could make you do the dishes for a whole month. Or maybe, I could get you to buy the groceries for the next two fortnights. That’ll wipe your cocktail debt, at least.”

“You’re too soft on me, Jeongguk. Even when I can make your life a living hell,” she sighs, sleepily blinking at him. Unexpectedly, she knots her hands into the front of his shirt and pulls him close, successfully bringing his face back to the proximity that it was only a moment ago; nearly nose to nose. He can very suddenly feel his pulse practically vibrating in his throat. “‘m really sorry. You deserve something better than just some silly chores. I’ll pay you back the money of course, but– … Hey, what does my breath smell like?”

Before Jeongguk can even question her, she is forcefully exhaling onto his face. A gust of peppermint fills his nostrils, powerful enough to make him flinch. “Minty fresh. Why?”

Her lips stretch into a gentle curve, and beneath the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, it almost appears nervous. “Good, ‘cos here goes nothing.”

Jeongguk is about to frown, about to speak, about to something. He cannot recall. Not now that she has closed the short gap between them and is accurately planting her mouth upon his own.

For a moment, Jeongguk thinks he might well and truly be dreaming. That tonight was some ridiculously real, torturous fantasy that his imagination managed to conjure in his unconscious state. But then her soft, damp lips part ever so slightly. Warm with the heat of her mouth, yet cool from the toothpaste. She opens up to him, her hands sliding up his chest to lock around his nape, the tip of her tongue skimming along the rosy flesh of his lower lip, and he knows.

This is very, very real.

Holy shit.

It takes a second for him to comprehend that he should kiss her back instead of standing there like a startled creature. And so, he slides his hands up from her knees to the middle of her thighs, the soft flesh warm beneath his palms when he gently grips them, and he tilts his head slightly to the side to deepen it. At this, she makes the most pleasant, lovely little sound. The edges of her nails lightly graze against the hair on the back of his neck, and elicit gooseflesh that tingles along his arms.

Jeongguk parts his lips, lets her in, groans quietly when her tongue brushes against the underside of his own and then recedes. He chases after it, tasting warmth and cool peppermint as he carefully sinks his teeth into her lower lip, nibbling at the plush flesh and releasing it. A thin string of saliva connects their mouths as they separate for the most infinitesimal of moments before they dive back in. They are abstrusely drawn to each other. Like a black hole has formed between their bodies and they are radiant stars, pulled to the centre by gravity, colliding and becoming one.

Jeongguk cannot think straight. His mind has become an unrecognisable labyrinth that he cannot navigate; sent into turmoil by the taste of her, the feeling of her underneath the weight of his hands. He searches higher up her thighs, skimming beneath the hem of the hoodie and over her boyshorts, finding her waist and anchoring his fingers there, pulling her closer. Now, with her torso melding against his own, she loops her arms over his shoulders and her legs around his hips, locking her ankles and hands so that the embrace cannot be broken. Jeongguk melts completely, and he prays that this is not just some measly, intoxicated repayment. That what he feels in the slow movements of her lips and the press of her tongue is what he thinks it is.

What he has been hoping for all this time.

As if she reads his mind, she suddenly jolts away like she has been electrocuted. Jeongguk, startled and with his lips still parted, stares at her with awed, lovestruck eyes. She gazes back as though she is very, very unsure.

Oh no.

“Woah,” she breathes, then she is untwining her limbs from his broad figure and clasping her blushing face with something akin to embarrassment. Jeongguk would think it looks utterly adorable if the fear was not currently spiking his adrenaline. “Wow– That was– Oh. Geez. I’m so sorry–“

“Why are you apologising?” Jeongguk barely whispers, and he almost does not want to know the answer for the fear of her words shattering his feeble heart like a hammer taking to glass.

“I’m– What? I’m apologising because that– That was something I shouldn’t have done,” she stammers, then sighs, letting her hands fall into her lap and staring down at them. Jeongguk is frozen, his own palms still firm against her waist underneath the bunched up fleece. “It was out of line. We’re best friends. I mean, I could blame it on being drunk if I wanted to and we could forget all about it. But in all seriousness, I’ve wanted to do that for a while. It was a very sober decision–“

Jeongguk exhales, and it shudders reluctantly out of his lungs. “You’re not making sense.”

“Okay, fine, fuck it!” she suddenly shouts, and it makes him jump. Her voice echoes around the bathroom, and she looks up at him again, eyes overflowing with frightening determination. “Jeongguk. I like you, okay? There. I said it. I like you so much, and I get that saying this might fuck up our entire friendship but I really like you–“

He cuts her off with his mouth on her own and thinks: How were we this blind for so long?

This time, the kiss is brief, yet urgent. A sense of desperation hides in the corners of their mouths. Not searching for an answer, but out of the sheer desire touch one another, breathe one another after being oblivious for so long. Jeongguk begins to laugh, soft chuckles against her mouth that draw mystified, hopeful giggles from her own chest. The kissing becomes quite pointless, for they are simply smiling so wide out of the absolute ridiculousness that they could have been doing this for months, maybe even years, at this stage.

They were just too foolish and scared of losing the other. Yet none of that matters now.

“Is this you confessing back to me?” she mumbles, and there is so much delight dancing like starlight in her eyes that Jeongguk’s heart races. He pecks at her mouth once, twice, then moves to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead and her chin until she is laughing all over again and holy shit, Jeongguk is quite possibly too in love for somebody who was so firmly denying it no less than two hours ago.

“Something like that,” he hums, squeezing at her sides before slipping his hands out from underneath the hoodie so he can reach up and cup her face. There is something radiant bursting through his ribs. Most likely, his elated heart. “I think I love you. At this stage, for me at least, I feel like I love you. I thought I just loved you as a best friend, but it’s definitely more than that.”

“Oh thank god,” she grins, and he feels it against his palms. “I was going to say I love you instead of I like you, but I thought it might be too sudden and scare you away. So yeah, I love you too, asshole. Also, I’m still a bit tipsy.”

Jeongguk’s face feels as though it is going to split in half from smiling so hard. He tucks her hair behind her ears, dies a little on the inside at the fact that he can do that, and so much more, now that they have laid their cards on the table. Brushing his thumbs over her faintly blushing cheeks, he kisses her, and then says, “Really? Wanna go to bed?”

“Yes,” she sleepily nods, latching her limbs around him again like a starfish. “Onwards to my bed, O’ Noble Steed!”

“God. You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love, bitch.”

“Wow, there’s the best friend that I know. Thought I lost you.”

“Nope. You fell in love with this, so you’re stuck with this.”

Grin still plastered to his face, Jeongguk hooks his hands underneath her thighs and lifts her up, delighting in the way she giggles with glee in his ear. In navigating out of the bathroom and to her bedroom, he carries her towards all the light switches so she can flick them off. He kisses her cheek with every single one.

When they enter her bedroom, the overwhelming fragrance of her hits him like a shockwave. Even more so as he carefully lays her down on the bed and then tucks in behind her; the gentle, vanilla aroma lifting from the pillowcase. She rolls over to face him in the dark, and Jeongguk loops his arms around her waist so casually that anyone would think they have been doing this for years.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, pressing his lips to the centre of her brow. At this rate, he believes he may never stop kissing her now that he has started.

Languidly, she blinks, and then mumbles, “This is real, right? I didn’t black out on cocktails, did I? I’m not just having some crazy, amazing dream?”

“Definitely real,” Jeongguk chuckles, pulling her closer. She cranes her neck, angling upwards to catch his mouth against her own, still tasting faintly of mint and pure, unadulterated joy. He licks at her bottom lip, and she groans, pulling away.

“Don’t do that. You’ll make me more horny.”

Jeongguk’s dick, in an act of betrayal, begins to stand to attention for the nth time that night.

“Y-You’re horny right now?” He clears his throat, swallows saliva down his suddenly very parched windpipe.

“Yeah, ’cos I’m still a little drunk,” she whines cutely, but it is nearly lost on Jeongguk. Because now all he can imagine is peeling her out of his hoodie and the boyshorts, seeing her lovely and bare, and then making her cry out his name with every fluid thrust inside of her.

“Fuck, now I’m kinda horny,” he mutters, and she cackles evilly.

“Are you hard?”

“Half,” Jeongguk admits, and she shifts so that she is propped up on her side by her elbow.

“Can I touch you? I’m too tired to jack you off but– I just want to, y’know, feel it,” she is smirking through the shadows and Jeongguk cannot roll the yes off his tongue fast enough.

Then, her small hand is on his dick, almost immediately causing it to swell to its full, erect size.

Jeongguk releases a tight exhalation that whistles between his teeth, draws soothing patterns on her back with his fingertips to try calm himself from potentially blowing his load right here and now. He cannot believe that he has dreamed of this more times than he can physically count on both hands, and now it is actually happening. Out of fear of disturbing the moment, he keeps his muscles locked. She stays rather silent as she feels around him through his sweatpants; gently squeezing his shaft, his balls, her thumb gliding smoothly over the head.

Then, she nods to herself. Her hand recedes, and Jeongguk feels the loss like a blade driving through his gut.

“I always thought it would be big after seeing your semi that one time, but this is quite impressive,” she very casually states while she lays back down, and Jeongguk’s heart stutters. He cannot decide whether it is torture or euphoria that he is experiencing right now. A concoction of the two, most likely, because 1. she thinks that he has a big dick, and yet 2. he refuses to drill it into her while she is still a few steps away from sober. He wants her head completely clear for that.

Instead, Jeongguk latches onto two of the words that she speaks, smirking himself as he says, “Always thought, huh?”

“Oh come on, you can’t say that you haven’t thought about my body, too!” she accuses good-naturedly, wriggling closer to him so that all of her curves and slopes press against him. His painfully hard dick nestles into her thigh. The desire to roll it against her spreads through him like wildfire. “I might’ve been drunker earlier, but don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were staring at my cleavage like a man deprived. That shirt is a godsend for my tiny titties, right?”

“God, you have no fucking idea,” Jeongguk shamelessly admits, burying his face into her neck and softly biting the flesh there, shivering when she squirms. She is better than he could have ever imagined in all of her reactions to his touches, the sounds that she creates. So real. “That’s why I told you to get changed. I thought I was going to die.”

She threads her fingers through his hair, softly stroking the dark locks. “I’ll make sure to wear it more often then.”

“Well, here’s your cautionary warning that I probably won’t be able to hold myself back when you do. I don’t care where we are or who sees.”

“That’s hot,” she laughs, and then yawns. Jeongguk untucks himself from the nook of her shoulder, licks his lips, and presses a firm kiss to her mouth. When she moves her thigh to wrap around his own, it brushes against the head of his hard cock and he has to swallow down a needy moan.

“Sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?” He murmurs. “And we’ll fix this horniness problem. Also, side note: can I hold your ass?”

“Yup, go for it,” she hums, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his own. Jeongguk smooths his palms down her spine and then over the supple flesh of her ass, and lord, it honestly feels as fantastic as he had expected. He gingerly gives it a squeeze, and she makes a soft, appreciative sound that has all the blood rushing out of his head, leaving him lightheaded and so fucking in love that it hurts. Well, hurts his dick, for the most part.

The room fills with placid silence, yet his heart thrums loudly in his ears, keeping him awake. He focuses on the way her breathing begins to even out, and tries to match his own to her pace. Slowly; in through the nose, out through the mouth. The minutes pass, and Jeongguk feels his body become heavier, heavier, until he closes in on the soothing edge of unconsciousness.

She stirs.

“Jeonggukie.”

“Mmm.”

“I think I’m going to vomit again.”

Jeongguk has been woken up in numerous unusual ways. Being punched in the face is a first, and is quite possibly one of the more painful methods. Even if it was an accident as a result of somebody flailing too close for comfort.

“Ow– Jesus!” He squawks, immediately rolling onto his back and cupping his nose where the fist had made sharp contact.

When he opens his watering eyes, he notices that his best friend is looming over him with a very confused and very concerned expression. The sight of her as the first thing he sees when he awakes is not abnormal, for she has proven to be a much more efficient alarm than his own cell phone on numerous occasions. Even if her method this time around was unnecessarily more painful.

But it is the fact that her bedroom surrounds the both of them that throws him off. Because that must mean he is sleeping in her bed. And why on Earth–

Oh.

That’s right. They confessed. They kissed. Jeongguk fell asleep with his hands on her beautiful ass after holding her hair back while she threw up a second time.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, a sleepy half-smile beginning to tilt his lips.

That is, until she very bluntly says, “What are you doing in my bed?”

The smile immediately vacates his expression, and he suddenly feels as though he has fallen off a cliff face and is plummeting through the air. Jeongguk’s voice trembles in the back of his throat as he quietly says, “What do you mean?”

“Why are you in my bed?” she questions him again, and Jeongguk thinks he is literally about to be sick. “Oh! That’s right. You came to the bar, didn’t you? Jesus. Did we get that drunk again that we ended up crashing in my bed together?” She shakes her head. “I bet it was like last time when we passed out in your bed after that frat party. You remember the one, right? Where we had a full-blown argument over pineapple on pizza–“

Jeongguk swiftly scrambles upright and out of the bed, his chest feeling tight in the worst possible way. Did he genuinely dream everything that occurred last night? Did none of it actually happen? Or was she drunker than he initially thought and she has completely forgotten everything that occurred?

“Don’t you remember, ___?” He whispers, and his voice cracks.

She tilts her head to the side. The sunlight filters through the bedroom window, casting her in a sheen of gold, and she looks so unbelievably, heart-wrenchingly gorgeous that Jeongguk feels something in his chest begin to splinter.

“Remember what?” she says, utterly clueless, and Jeongguk casts his eyes to the ground, confused and hurt beyond belief.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, starting towards the door. He cannot completely comprehend what is happening right now, but he knows that something is definitely off because he swears on his heart that it was not a dream. She was real. Her warm mouth shaped against his own was real. Her voice wrapping around the words ‘I love you’ was very, very real; he knows that he could never imagine such a confession so vividly–

Behind him, she bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my god. Jeongguk, you’re more gullible than a dog running to fetch the ball that its owner pretended to throw!”

He whips his head around, eyes as wide as Jupiter. “W-What?”

“I remember what happened, dumbass. Everything. I kissed you in the bathroom, we confessed our undying feelings for one another, I touched your dick, yadda yadda.” She crawls across the bed until she is kneeling before him, carefully reaching up to clasp his face between her palms and Jeongguk is torn between wanting to beat her with a pillow or kiss her senseless. Huh, he supposes this is what angry sex must be all about. “Was I really that convincing?”

He closes his eyes, furrows his brow. His mind is still suffering from the sudden whiplash, and is now doused in liquid fury. “I’m honestly going to fucking kill you.”

“I love you too,” she placates him, rising up to tentatively kiss him. He cuttingly stares at her half-lidded gaze as she dusts tiny pecks to his unmoving lips until he finally caves through the simmering anger and gives in to her, flicking his tongue out to meet her own. Carefully, as if she is unsure whether he will tear her head off or not at the slightest misjudgement, she begins to travel her mouth down his jaw, mumbling, “I’m sorry, that was mean of me.”

“I genuinely thought for a moment there that I must’ve had the wildest lucid dream,” he mutters, settling his hands on her ribs and angling his head to the side so that she has easier access. “But I feel like I could’ve never imagined the sight, nor stench of regurgitated cheesy ramyeon with such disgustingly intense clarity.”

She chuckles, quietly apologising again, and the exhalation of it on his skin raises the hairs on his nape. She reaches the under of his jawline, plush lips coming into contact with an especially sensitive spot on his neck, and an involuntary moan escapes him when the light suck of her teeth sends shivers down his spine.

Jeongguk can feel the curve of her languid, wicked grin instantly forming against his skin.

“Instead of fucking killing me, how about you fuck me to my grave?” she suggests, and her tone is too saccharine around such filthy words. Unbearable enough to bolster his morning wood to its full capacity, even when the flame of rage from her awful joke is still dying out.

“You’re insane,” Jeongguk chuckles despite himself, and she leans back, divine smile still intact.

“Insanely horny after keeping my sexual frustrations for you locked up in my body for roughly a year now? Yes,” she confirms with finger guns and a wink. He shakes his head out of incredulity. “And, I do believe I have a dick to blow to say thank you for last night. And also to say sorry for scaring you just now.”

“Baby, I don’t think you realise this yet but if we’re really a thing now, then you’re going to be sucking my dick for a whole month to pay me back for the past twelve hours.” Jeongguk sighs, running his hand through his hair and then down his face. His heart soars from the way her expression meekly transforms at the sudden nickname. “I’m going to have to start a fucking tally.”

“Well,” she hums, slips her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, and Jeongguk becomes lightheaded, “consider this strike number one, baby.”

The way she says it melts him down like candle wax, and he cannot help but tackle her onto the bed, grinning at her surprised squeal that is soon suffocated by his lips. Jeongguk knows that they have all morning for this. That he can take his time to explore her body in all of its magnificence until he can perfectly map it out in his mind, can understand the raw shape of her, what glorious noises she makes when he touches her, and what specific places on her being elicit them. He mouths his way down her throat, catches the blissful sigh as it releases from her lungs into the early morning, and then detaches so he can sit back and look at her, straddled beneath him.

Jeongguk entwines her hands with his own and slowly draws them above her head. She simpers, her half-lidded, glassy eyes flooded with unadulterated desire, cast in golden sunlight that makes her appear unbelievably ethereal. He slides his palms to her wrists, leans down so that his lips hover just above her own, gazes right at her and thanks his lucky stars for gracing him with an embodiment of themselves in the form of a girl so radiant that she blinded him; enough, that he could not recognise the love cooped up in her eyes until she spoke it.

He murmurs, “___, I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Even if you destroy my savings account and eat the most repulsive meal known to humankind. You’re my best friend, and I want to escalate our best friendship to ‘best-friends-who-fuck-each-other-and-are-ridiculously-in-love’. What do you think?”

“Well, I love you too,” she smiles, her eyes flicking between his own, a glint of mischief hiding underneath the flutter of her eyelashes. “And I completely approve of such an upgrade. Partly because I cannot even express how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand and tell the world that you’re my boyfriend, and partly because I really want to blow you while you play video games.”

There, the realisation drives straight through Jeongguk’s heart. And his dick.

Ah, silver lining.

Note | I just wanted to write about Jeongguk’s phone vibrating against his balls. That is all. I have also never played Overwatch, so if any of the references are incorrect, I apologise. Thank you all for reading, liking, and reblogging this fun and silly little piece. I would love to hear your thoughts on it! ♡

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfics #bts fan fiction #jeon jungkook #extra cheese please #ecp #/ vomit #/ alcohol #vankoya #gukvory

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Fitness Isnt a Lifestyle Anymore. Sometimes Its a Cult

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Fitness Isnt a Lifestyle Anymore. Sometimes Its a Cult

San Franciscos Fort Mason park is empty in the early morning darkness, every surface the color of a used cast-iron pan. Its pouring rain, and Ive been wandering around since just after 6, trying to find well, Im not exactly sure. All I know is that, according to a Facebook post, members of one of the strangest fitness groups in the country are supposed to be meeting here right about now. But the Google Maps screenshot I pulled from the website seems to have directed me to a parking lot. Or the front door of the high-end vegetarian restaurant Greens. Its hard to tell.

I check Facebook again.

What are you planning to do for the first Monday of 2016? Sleep in? Lazily slog on into work? No need for that. Come join us for #DonutMondays at NPSF (Gil, dont forget the donuts!). Fort Mason. 6:25AM

Just as I start thinking Ill have to find my own doughnut, a woman in her mid-twenties jogs up to me looking equally lost. Shes dressed in a gray Adidas jacket, black leggings, and a tank top that resembles caution tape. Her wet hair is stuck to her forehead as though shes just been dunked in the Pacific.

Do you know where November Project meets? she asks with a slight accent. Relieved, I tell her Im trying to find them as well. Im Stine! she says.

And then she hugs me.

What distinguishes November Project is not just the fact that its freejust as instructors arent paid, members dont paybut the degree to which it actually is a social identity. The movement extends beyond exercising to encompass rituals and customs, social expectations, and repercussions for failing to participate. Thats right: If you skip a November Project workout, youre not out any cash, but the fallout is arguably more severe. Youre, well, shamed. Online. Its weird.

Spoiler: Not a lot of people miss workouts. Teixeira calls it an absolute feast for someone studying motivation for exercise.

One member compared November Project to a church. More commonly, people refer to it as a cult. Never in the pejorative Im-trapped-and-I-cant-escape sense, though. More like, This is the greatest-tasting Kool-Aid in the world!

Laura McCloskey leads the San Francisco tribe in a high-intensity workout. Hugs and hand-holding are not optional.Jake Stangel

While we walk, Stine, whos originally from Denmark, tells me about her obsession with November Project. Shes been a member of the Boston tribebears repeating: tribefor about four months and is visiting San Francisco for the week. Its been such a great way to meet people. Cities can be lonely, but you have this instant community, she says, using a nice-enough line that begins to sound like propaganda as I hear other members repeat it.

Two people who say it a lot are Brogan Graham and Bojan Mandaric. They are November Projects cofoundersand they totally fit their gladiatorial-sounding names: 6-foot-tall, bald, tattooed former collegiate rowers. Back in 2011, when the friends were trying to stay motivated during a Boston winter, they agreed to work out every weekday morning at 6:30, keeping track of their progress on a spreadsheet named for that first month, November.

Then, for reasons neither can quite remember, they sent out a tweet to see if anyone would join in. Two people became three, and a movement was born. When the Boston tribe reached 300 people, Graham and Mandaric got matching tattoos.

In the past few years, fitness has developed into something of a social identity — at least among plugged-in, upper-middle-class, roughly millennial-age urbanites.

It was a powerful turning point for Graham. During his sophomore year at Northeastern University, he was charged with assaulting a rival college rower. Though the charge was dropped in exchange for community service, he lost his scholarship and was kicked out of school. The experience shaped Grahams views on community and inclusion. Got a bad rap? I dont care, he wrote in the movements official history. Are you at November Project to be kind, work your ass off, and start your day right? Then thats all that matters.

As Stine is telling me how much she loves November Projects instant community, we find who were looking for. Unmistakably silhouetted against the foggy morning sky, about 40 people stand in a lopsided semicircle, arms crossed, heads bowed against the wind. They could be praying.

A woman in striped leggings and a North Face trucker hat climbs onto a park bench. Good morning! says Laura McCloskey, the San Francisco tribe leader, in a stage whisper. Were going to do a workout that I just came up with! I want everyone to break into groups of four! Find your four! Try to group up with someone you dont normally pair with!

Jake Stangel

Before we start, she asks if today is anyones first time. A few people raise their hands. I, not quite ready to give up my anonymity, do not. The newbies are directed to state where they come from, how they got here, and whether theyre single. A version of this happens at every November Project meetup, one of the traditions borrowed from Graham and Mandarics original Boston tribealong with chants, stair laps, a rallying move called the bounce, and, of course, physical affection. People come looking for a sense of belonging, Mandaric says. We foster that.

The same thing goes for November Projects other tactics for promoting inclusiveness. Hashtags are essential follow November Project on Twitter and youll see a lot of #hillsforbreakfast, #sleepwhenyouredead, and #justshowup. Members usually don highlighter-colored sportswear, stenciled and spray-painted with the logo #grassrootsgear. The result is a group of people who look alike, sound alike, and hug alike.

Toward the end of our workout, a man in my squat group finally discovers that I didnt announce myself as a new member. Were going to fix this, he says with a grin. He outs me to McCloskey, who has me wave to everyone during the group photo (another ritual) and apologize for not making my presence known. Eventually, everyone becomes part of the tribe.

Jake Stangel

In Graham and Mandarics crew days, their coach had a policy: If anyone missed practice, the whole team had to do dry-land workouts. It worked because nobody wanted to let the group down. When they started November Project, they knew theyd need a similar system for keeping people accountable to the tribe.

I feel a tiny bit of thisan expectation that no one is above the groupwhen Im teased for not introducing myself. But thats nothing compared to what happens to someone who doesnt show up for a workout. For that, November Project has perfected a bizarre, more 21st-century form of establishing accountability: online shaming. This is known as We Missed You.

From November Projects website: If you decided that staying in bed was a better option than working out with your friends (who you promised that youll be there) then your face will be featured here.

Members usually don highlighter-colored sportswear, stenciled and spray-painted with the logo #grassrootsgear.

By face, they mean embarrassing photos lifted from the shamed members Facebook profile or supplied by friends. Posts go on to explain that this person committed to attending a workoutmade a #verbal, in tribe-speakbut reneged. Screenshots of text messages and emails confirming said #verbal are posted, along with guesses as to why the absentee might have failed to show upanything from you must have gotten too drunk the night before to perhaps you were lost on a Segway tour. Its an elaborate expression of profound disappointment in the offending person, and there are hundreds of examples on the website.

Paddy OLeary, a member of the San Francisco tribe, remembers when he skipped a workout in 2013. A fellow member made him a We Missed You video; he hasnt missed a workout since. Other victims confirm the tactics effectiveness. You look like an idiot for sleeping in when everyone else is having an amazing time, says Holly Richardson, also in San Francisco. Its not worth it.

McCloskey makes no apologies for the policy. November Project is successful because it relies on word of mouth and accountability, she says. If I tell you that I will meet you at the corner of Market and Sanchez to run to November Project, come rain, snow, or dinosaurs, I will be there. In the event that someone sends one of those pathetic just cant do it texts at 5:55 am, we have the right to roast them. And roast we do.

Jake Stangel

Heres the fundamental thing about shaming: According to behavioral psychologists, its not supposed to work. Sure, it might force someone to make a change in the momentcontestants on The Biggest Loser shedding pounds before a national audience, for instancebut the effects dont always last. When your goals, attitudes, or values are shaped by external motivators, its unlikely youll stay satisfied or committed for long.

This is certainly true when it comes to working out. For decades, experts in behavior modification have tried to get people to commit to exercise. So far, nothing has worked, says Jack Raglin, a professor of kinesiology at Indiana University. It doesnt matter if youre paid to exercise, if youve paid to exercise, if you might die from lack of exercisemost people just dont stick it out.

Yet theres an undeniable element of shaming to this latest generation of exercise fads. It may have started with fitness trackers, which made people more aware of their activity levels in relation to othersreach 10,000 steps or your coworkers will know youre a slob. From there, programs began capitalizing on group pressure. In Orangetheory workouts, your calorie burn and heart rate are displayed on a screen. CrossFit posts scores as well, believing it encourages people to push harderand now its in 13,000 affiliated gyms worldwide.

But this motivation strategy, researchers like Raglin and Teixeira suggest, could be as doomed as any other. You may initially want to impress your peers or get your moneys worth, but those considerations rarely lead to true behavior change. If the standard adherence rate for exercise holds, Raglin says, half the people will stop showing up to these classes within a year.

Youd think this would apply to November Project too. After all, the threat of We Missed You is external. But there are some differences. November Project members are not paying anything to be there, the goals arent about burning the most caloriesyet people show up anyway. And many of them have been at this for years, without ever missing a single workout. Its clearly working for some people.

Jake Stangel

True motivation, Teixeira says, takes something extra, something intrinsic. If members of a group think they are gaining useful skills, feel personally valued, and perceive that they have control over their actions, they are more likely to fully commit. Teixeira believes November Project gives you a bit of all these things. And indeed, everyone I talk to seems like a lifer. But then again, I only talk to people who are there. The one real data point we have is that November Project continues to expand. A recent partnership with the North Face aims to help grow the movement.

Jennifer Hurst, an associate professor of health and exercise science at Truman State University, suggests November Project may be succeeding at pulling off a rare thing: positive shaming. It only works when the person truly cares what the shamers think, she says. The desire for social connectedness and the positive feeling some get from the environment must be worth the time, energy, and sacrifice. That explains why the rituals, cultlike as they seem, are so crucial. You dont want to disappoint people you hug, not to mention chant and bounce and dance with.

A number of years ago, Raglin and his colleagues found that married adults who enrolled in a recreational fitness program together had an average adherence rate of over 90 percent, compared to just 50 percent for those who enrolled on their own. The married pair didnt necessarily exercise together or even in the same room, Raglin says. They simply came and left together. Yet the social benefit was quite profound.

That may also help explain November Projects success. Members might not be married to each other, but theyre married to the group. And the group is what holds November Project together.

Jake Stangel

It turns out some November Project members actually are married to each other. At one of my workouts, a young couple tells me they met in the Boston tribe. The movement encourages this sort of thingleaders are expected to host mixers and speed-dating events. The phrase There will be babies appears on the blog and in promo material.

Yes, its all a bit creepy, and I dont blame passersby who look at us funny (there are many of them). And no matter how many times Im told that We Missed You is not about shaming, its about love, I wont be entirely convinced. But you cant deny the smile on these peoples faces. Nobody looks like that when theyre huffing it alone on a treadmill in their garage. I wont be heading up a November Project tribe back home in Santa Fe, but if one comes to my town, I wouldnt say no to a few hugs.

With dawn creeping over the edges of the city, we put our arms around each other and start to bounce. Yall good? someone says, in signature November Project whisper-shout. Fuck yeah! the group whispers back.

Surprising myself just a little, I say it too.

Meaghen Brown (@meaghenbrown) is a freelance journalist based in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the former online fitness editor for Outside.

This article appears in the July 2016 issue.