#i could just get my friend to send me the password to the quiz and i’ll do it from my bed

[livvyofthelake]

yes girl don’t ever start your day. eat your first food at 9:30pm and it’s just a yogurt and pop tarts… slay

[moemammon]

"I didn't mean it MC, I swear!" (Feat. Levi and GN!MC)

(Continuation of this!)

Levi

Leviathan knew very few people who could match his passion about the things he was interested in, and even then, they weren't as diehard as he was. Whether they met in online forums, game lobby matchups, before concerts, or at comicons, there was NO ONE Levi could say really understood him.

And you? You were no exception. It annoyed him to no end when he found out you were trying to learn more about the things he liked. He didn't know what you were planning, but he wanted no part in it. Levi knew you were nothing but a notice through and through, and a little studying on TSL wouldn't change that! You were a fake fan, and he’d never acknowledge you!

Or... that was the plan, at least. Somehow, you... annoying, normie, irritatingly human YOU... managed to get under his skin. At first it was subtle, in that annoying way you managed to "beat" him in that TSL quiz you initiated. Then it was the way you continued to try to learn about him and get him to open up, despite already forming your pact. If it wasn't the pact you were after, then what did you want?

There was no way you'd hang out with Levi because you WANTED to. "Why are you always coming into my room? Just because you know the password... that doesn't give you the right!" He couldn't believe anyone would choose to spend time with him so often without ulterior motives, and yet... you were doing just that. Sharing his hobbies with genuine interest, proclaiming yourself to be his friend...

But he wasn't used to this kind of attention! It was too much for his otaku brain to handle! So Levi had the tendency to put up his walls at random, and that often meant defaulting to calling you names as if he wanted to push you away. You were always "Stupid normie", "dumb human" "fake fan", and variations thereof.

Little did he know, he was sort of succeeding in pushing you away, because you were actually sensitive to his stupid insults. He notices when you asked to come to his room to play a game, and he questioned whether a "normie like you can even handle a game like this." You remained silent, choosing to quietly get up and leave without another word.

And boy did Levi fuckin panic. He knew he was being a dick, and as much as part of him wanted you to leave him alone, another, larger part couldn't stand the thought of having no one to enjoy things with. He didn't want that! All this time he thought he was better off alone, and yet when he was with you, he could ACTUALLY let loose! He couldn't even remember the last time he genuinely enjoyed another person's company to the fullest. And now he was pushing you away??

Levi frets for a LONG time after you leave. He debates texting you, calling you, sending you a dozen game invites.... He's never had to deal with something like this! Why did real life have to be so hard?! But... he read enough romance manga to know that love-... or, really strong feelings, was a complex thing. He didn't get it, but that didn't mean he wanted to risk losing you. So he settled for sneaking down the hall to your room, making sure he wasn't spotted as to avoid the "look who came out of their cave" jokes his brothers were bound to make.

He sheepishly knocks at your door, waiting for a long while before taking the initiative to enter. He finds you cursed up in bed looking a second away from crying, and the guilt immediately punches him in the gut. Levi scrambles over to you and grabs your hands before he can react to the embarrassing gesture. "YOU'RE MY HENRY-!" Levi yells out randomly, and a little too loudly. His face is beet red and he's clearly nervous, but the demon tightens his grip.

"You're... you're my Henry, so... that means you're important to me! I'm no good with irl friendships, or.. or talking about feelings and stuff, but I want you to know that you're special! I want to watch anime with you! I want to go to concerts with you! I want to talk about TSL with you!" Levi withdraws his hands, barely able to look you in the eye. "....Sorry for what I said earlier. I really don't wanna lose you. Do you want to come back..? We can play that game, and I'll let you be player one this time!"

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day one

akaashi keiji - friends to lovers 

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list  

NSFW warning featuring: fingering, dry humping, first time together, unprotected sex other tags: lots of exposition, too many words, years long pining, accidental almost confession, emotional real one, mentions of characters having previous partners, oblivious reader, hidden feelings, slight angst, oh no there’s only one bed!  fem reader

word count: 7380

-

Akaashi Keiji knows everything. 

At least, he seems to. 

You realized this only a month after knowing him. He turned around to you, the girl who sat behind him in biology, and gave you one look before saying, “You have no idea what this lesson is about, do you?” And you laughed, because it was so absurdly true, while Akaashi turned his desk around and introduced himself as your study partner. 

You still don’t know how he knew you were struggling. You thought you hid it well, but his eyes must have caught the poor grade on the quiz the teacher returned to you the week before, or the way you seemed to immediately sulk the moment you walked into the classroom. He could see everything you tried to hide - even things you couldn’t see yourself.

And he wouldn’t let you get away with anything but a stellar grade, so study sessions became routine for the two of you - a friendship was destined to bloom, and fast. 

He was too observant for his own good, which was something you learned while watching one of his volleyball practices. He had been inviting you to come watch after study sessions for awhile, but it took you a bit to work up the nerve to walk into the giant gymnasium filled with boys you didn’t know. 

As you watched him play, you saw his superpower: Akaashi’s eyes were everywhere at once. On the ball, on his teammates, on his opponents, on his own feet - he always knew where everyone was at any given moment, all while somehow managing to spare you a few knowing glances during the mess of the game.

You never knew how he did it, but you figured you didn’t have to know. It was because he was Akaashi, and that’s it. 

But you questioned why no one else seemed to notice it. His excellence was obvious to you, but even his closest friends seemed to gloss over it. 

Keiji stood out to you, while to others, he was just Akaashi. Quiet, reserved, sometimes as blunt as a hammer, Akaashi. 

He didn’t care, though. Akaashi thrived on being in the background - he didn’t need any of the attention or recognition you wished to give him. And maybe he loved his friends more because they left him be. 

Those friends of his, however, all shined just as bright as Keiji did, and were never shy about it. You look back at getting to know them all as a highlight of being in high school; despite never feeling like you belonged in their friend group, you were always happy to be with them. 

Keiji pushed you to get closer to the three boys, Tsukishima, Bokuto, and especially Kuroo, right from the first day you met them. They were playing a friendly volleyball game with a few other boys you never really met, and you quickly learned you had no reason to be nervous to meet them. 

It was easy to let go and goof off, because that’s all any of them were doing, anyway. 

Just because it seemed like fun to get under Kuroo’s skin, you decided to antagonize him a bit. “So, Nekoma’s mascot is a cat, correct?” 

Kuroo immediately grew defensive at your tone. “Yes - what do you have against cats?” 

“Nothing, nothing! I like to think of myself as pretty cat-like, actually.” 

“Show him your claws, Y/N,” Keiji chimed in. 

“They’re nimble, and sneaky... and lazy. Something that owls aren’t - just saying. Seems pretty fitting when comparing your team to ours, don’t you think?” 

“Akaashi, you better get your cat,” Kuroo grumbled, with a sly smirk that never seemed to leave his face. 

“She’s just a kitten,” Akaashi replied, winking at you and immediately taking your breath in a way you’d never felt before. “Not my kitten, though, so you’re on your own here, Kuroo.” 

That’s when the first wall came up. You didn’t notice it, not yet, or even realize why it had been built. But as soon as your heart sank to your stomach and erupted into butterflies all because of Keiji’s flirtatious gesture, that wall arose. 

And many would follow. 

On the walk home from that practice, you noticed every glance he sent you. Every time his shoulder touched yours, you felt it amplified. Your knuckles grazed his and you looked down at your hands - his much bigger than yours, your fingers raring to wrap around his. And they were going to, either out of curiosity or the blatant need to touch him or both, until he stuffed both of his hands into his pockets and away from your potential grasp. 

You shook your disappointment off and reminded yourself of what the two of you were: friends. Just friends. Friends only hold hands sometimes, and it’s not on walks home or during study sessions or any of the times you found yourself wanting to hold onto him. 

“Kuroo likes you,” Akaashi said out of nowhere. And you laughed. 

“You think so?” 

“I’m pretty sure.” He sounded distant, his gaze was head on. “Maybe you should give him a chance.” 

You laughed again and said, “Maybe,” even though you knew you’d never entertain the thought of going out with Kuroo. 

Not with Kuroo or anyone else, but you wouldn’t understand why for a long time. 

Two years of friendship had come and gone in almost an instant, but every day with Akaashi was memorable in that easy familiar way only he could offer. He truly was your comfort - everything you needed in a friend, Keiji had. Being so close to him was a blessing, you knew that. 

When the two of you ended up choosing the same university, you almost wanted to cry, because you knew nothing could quell your fears of what’s new better than Keiji’s all knowing familiarity. Having your best friend by your side during times of change would make everything easier.

But it was a different story entirely when you became roommates with him. The apartment you shared was small but homey; it had all the comfort you had in your friendship with him, and you thought nothing could be better than that. 

It was more than that, though. Months went by of seeing him every day, and it felt like that comfort was leaking through the floor every time you saw his bedhead or heard him singing in the shower or watched him pull another girl into his bedroom. 

It wasn’t like the latter was an often occurrence, but just the thought of him being with someone made your stomach turn. But it gave you the idea of seeking your own partners, which was something you hadn’t done in years, and it quickly spiraled into an unhealthy habit. 

You longed for familiarity, to be touched by someone you knew. You were desperate for comfortable vulnerability, and you never found that with a stranger in your bed. So, you decided to seek out someone familiar. And when the person in bed with you was an old friend, a realization dawned on you. Rather, it was offered to you. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Kuroo mumbled, and you did nothing but send him a questioning glare, one he scoffed at. 

The two of you had done nothing so far but send a few flirty texts and then sit on your bed; he hadn’t even kissed you yet. You weren’t sure how you felt about it - you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to kiss you. 

“I’m not the one you want here, idiot. So why am I the one you brought to your bed?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied honestly. “Are we going to -” 

“No, we aren’t. Are you really that dense?” 

“What?” 

“Look,” Kuroo said, standing up and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed that he had to be saying this. And while you watched him, you noticed this was the first time you ever saw him without his signature grin or sly eyes. “If I was a shitty friend, I would have fucked you back in high school, alright? I mean, come on, I had the chance. But I care about Akaashi too much to ever do that with you, and I know you don’t actually want to fuck me.”

You stood up, too, facing him head on. “What does Akaashi have anything to do with fucking me, Kuroo?” 

“Everything, idiot. I know you probably think you’re good at hiding it, but everyone knows you’re as in love as you could possibly be with that smartass.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, because you didn’t, but Kuroo wasn’t having it. 

“Well you’re the only one you’ve convinced. And, for the record, this isn’t going to help you get over him.” 

Still, you didn’t get it. You couldn’t see it - you refused to. 

“You’re off limits, dude, Akaashi told us himself.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

His annoying grin was back. “To see how delusional you really are. And give you some advice. Just admit it to yourself - you’ll feel better, I promise.” 

Keiji was your best friend, and that was it. 

This wasn’t some story of years long pining and unrequited love. 

Was it? 

But you thought about it, for just a moment. You thought about being in love with him. 

And then you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

You decided, right then and there, that what Kuroo said wasn’t true; admitting it to yourself didn’t make anything better. In a lot of ways, your friendship with Akaashi thrived on your special feelings for him, and it relied on those feelings staying secret to both of you. 

You couldn’t even finish the conversation with Kuroo. He swore not to tell, because you made him, and that was it. 

That’s when the second wall came up, then the third, then the fourth. You were trapped inside of them. Hiding, only hiding, and safe from anyone who could see you or your heart. 

You denied it still, even though Kuroo knew, just to convince yourself he didn’t. No one knew but you; the only one who knew the password to that door was you. You could be hidden, safe, and protected forever, because you made it that way. 

Keiji would never know, and everything would stay okay. 

Everything but you. And that security wouldn’t last, because a storm was brewing. 

But you were content. What you had with Keiji was always enough for you - you had enough. You saw him every day. You got to hear his laugh on the good days and hug him on the bad ones; you got to have coffee with him every morning and secret late night snacks too many midnights. Sleeping alone was fine. Not getting intimate moments was okay. What you had was enough. 

It seemed like the more you recognized your feelings for him, the more of Keiji you saw. You were still getting to know him after years of calling him your best friend; you were noticing his habits that you never saw before. He mumbles to himself while he cooks; he picks at his nails when he’s nervous; he overthinks everything, even the smallest decisions. 

The latter had always been obvious, but you had never realized it until you lived with him - until you really started to love him. 

Every day, you learned something new about him. And every day, you loved him more, in ways you didn’t even know you could. Ways that made it hard to love him from afar.

Months of your love growing during your first year of university seemed to go by too quickly, and soon spring break was fast approaching. A trip with old friends to a lake house was planned months in advance, and both you and Keiji were excited to see the three boys again. 

But when you arrived at the old looking house that evening you were met with knowing eyes and a sly grin that hadn’t changed since high school. 

“There are only four beds,” Kuroo announced, “and five of us.”

“That’s alright,”  Keiji started, but he was interrupted by Bokuto’s loud laugh. 

“Oh, I guess we’re sharing a bed, four eyes!” 

“I’ll suffocate you in your sleep,” Tsukishima said, meaning every word he said in a way that made Kuroo cackle. 

Keiji looked at you. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” 

A million thoughts ran through your mind, but you only shook your head. You didn’t voice any of the concerns you had for yourself. 

“No problem.” 

He gave you a grin. “It’ll be like our high school sleepovers,” and then he took your bag and left to find your shared room. 

You remembered the last sleepover you had with him and your heart raced just thinking about it; you spent half of the night pretending to be asleep, and the other half watching Keiji’s sleeping face and wondering why laying next to him made you feel the way it did. 

This would be the exact same, except now you knew why your heart would be pounding. 

Kuroo was still laughing, but he was looking directly at you. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?” 

“Shut up, Kuroo.” 

He kept laughing, and it left Bokuto scratching his head. “What’s going on? Why are you mad, Y/N?” 

“Because Kuroo is an asshole -” 

“Hey now, I’m doing you a favor here!”

“...I still don’t get it.” 

“You never will, Bokuto,” Tsukishima commented. 

You decided to leave Kuroo laughing on his own - you shouldn’t let him get under your skin, because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. He was doing this on purpose. Maybe he thought he was helping you out, but he was only making things harder for you. 

You weren’t going to let him win. You were going to have fun on this trip while keeping our secret seeled, and nothing would stop you - not even Kuroo attempting to play matchmaker. 

The late arrival called for a quick dinner and a nighttime bonfire to kick off the vacation the right way; the boys were all too excited for the night and had gotten the fire started before you could even finish unpacking your bag. 

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your skin and froze you all over - you expected low temperatures, but not that. 

“It’s cold!” you called out to the boys who were all sitting around the nearby campfire. 

“That’s why we have a fire, moron!” 

“It’s still cold,” you argued, even though you knew it was fruitless to fight with Kuroo.

“It’s alright, you’ll warm up,” Keiji told you. 

“Go warm her up, Akaashi!” 

You ignored Kuroo’s comment - you were not in a good place to be entertaining that thought, not when you’d be in bed with Keiji in just a few hours. 

Keiji seemed to ignore it, too. “Here, I saved you a seat.” He patted the vacant spot on the bench next to him, and you sat down. “You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?” 

“It’s inside,” you replied. “But I’m fine.” 

He didn’t even listen to your response, he was already pulling his hoodie off and giving it to you. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, holding it in your lap.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’ll keep you warm - you need it more than I do.” 

“How romantic,” Kuroo butted in, and it was only now that you noticed the beer in his hand - as well as the few empty cans next to him. 

Drunk Kuroo is always worse than Sober Kuroo, even though you could hardly believe he could ever get snarkier. It was like alcohol made him open his big mouth more, and it always made you nervous. Even though you knew he’d never say anything about your secret while anyone else was around, any time alcohol was involved made those chances go up.

“Just being nice,” Keiji said, obviously playing in to Kuroo’s banter. “I don’t see you offering her your jacket.” 

“Hey, I just don’t think you’d like it if I gave your girl my jacket, would you?” 

Keiji laughed at his slurred words and directed his reply at the group rather than to Kuroo, “He’s only had five beers and he’s already stuttering.” 

“We’ll see if he makes it to six before passing out,” you said, and while it made the others laugh, it seemed to rub Kuroo’s drunken fragile ego the wrong way. 

“I can handle my alcohol just fine, thank you.” 

Bokuto butted in, “Are you sure about that?” 

“You’ve been a lightweight since high school,” you added. 

Everyone laughed, Kuroo included. With his next words, he must have thought he was playing along with the joke. That you were all in on what he was about to say next. That they would have no repercussions, they would sting no ears. 

But when he said them, it sounded like a smack of thunder. 

“Yeah, and you’ve been hiding your feelings since high school - some things just never change, Y/N!” 

You could hardly hear Bokuto saying, “Feelings? For who?!”

“For Aka -”

“Kuroo.” 

You stood up. Keiji’s forgotten hoodie fell out of your lap and landed on the ground. Everything was quiet save for the fire cracking and the pounding of your heart. 

Your eyes said everything you needed to tell Kuroo. He stared right back at you, his face white as snow and his mouth hung open as he choked back his words. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. It was the calm before a fast approaching storm, one you couldn’t run away from. 

“You weren’t going to say Akaashi, were you? Surely not…” 

Kuroo turned his head to look at Bokuto, seeming to have no clue what to say. You kept staring as he shook his head, not having the courage to say anything else. 

“Pretty sure he was,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh. Shit.” 

You could have denied it - you didn’t. You could have been angry at Kuroo - you weren’t. You could have explained this away as him being drunk and talking out of his ass - you couldn’t. 

You didn’t dare turn to look at Keiji as you stormed toward the cabin. You refused to stay and let this situation become worse than it already was. 

You could hardly hear the words Keiji had for Kuroo, but they were something like, “Why the fuck did you do that?” and if you had been any less upset you would have been worried for how angry he sounded. 

You didn’t know what would happen next. If you thought about it, you were sure you’d fall apart, and that was the one thing you couldn’t let happen. You had to hold yourself together, you had to give this situation the benefit of the doubt. 

Maybe if you could just lie down and sleep before Keiji comes inside, you could wake up in the morning and everyone would act like nothing happened. Just because your secret is out doesn’t mean it was over - you could wait out this storm. 

That’s what you were doing when Keiji came into your shared bedroom. You lied in bed as Keiji slipped in, your back to him and the blanket pulled up to your chin. And, just like at those old sleepovers with him, you were pretending to be asleep.

You had to be good at pretending if you wanted to stay best friends with him. To be as close as you are, with the feelings that you keep for him, you learned how to hide from Keiji. And you had gotten good at it, too - at least, you liked to think so. You were sure he wouldn’t catch you awake. 

You tried not to think about what happened earlier. You tried not to dread what was coming if he knew you weren’t actually sleeping. 

Minutes passed and Akaashi stayed awake. Then, he looked over to you. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

Everything felt frozen, just for a moment, but you didn’t move. You kept your breathing deep and steady, you lied still. 

He reached a hand out to you, fisting your shirt into his palm. His thumb grazed your lower back, skin he exposed from grabbing your shirt. 

“Stop pretending. You’re bad at it.” 

It was like the world stopped spinning. Your world, anyway - the one you had made up in your head. The world where the only things Keiji didn’t know were all the things you were trying to hide from him; the world where, despite never being a good liar, you were good at lying to him. 

But that wasn’t the same world Keiji was living in.

“I know,” you replied, voice cracking through the words. 

You were sure he didn’t mean what he said in the way you felt it sting your chest, but it didn’t matter. Years of learning, hiding, pretending were all culminating in this moment, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up losing it all. 

His hand moved from your back to holding your side. “Will you look at me?” And you didn’t have a choice, because he was turning you to lay on your back, anyway. 

So you looked at him, because it’s what he asked you to do, and you felt the first crack in your poorly built foundation when you realized how close he was to you; then, he put his hand on your side and pulled you even closer.

It’s like he was looking through you. 

“I should tell you something,” he said, and you had some idea where he was going with this but you didn’t want to find out. No part of you wanted to hear what he was about to say. 

“You know… I already knew, Y/N.” 

There it was: the collapse. 

You couldn’t look at him anymore, so you closed your eyes and tried to keep pretending, even though you had nowhere left to hide. 

“Yeah.” The hand on your side was hot and heavy and hard; you hated how much you loved being touched by him, even right now when your made up world was ending. “I know.” 

“I’ve always known.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

You were so close to letting go, to breaking down in the pile of rubble. But you had built your house of lies on unsteady ground, after all; what else did you expect to happen other than this destruction? 

You wanted to cry. You didn’t. You couldn’t be angry at yourself or upset, because you saw this coming. After all, Keiji knows everything. He sees things you don’t even know are showing - he’s been able to read you like a book since before he even knew your name. 

Of course he knew. You were stupid to ever think he didn’t. 

He whispered your name, and then you felt him kiss your forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, meaning it with your whole heart even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

“I should tell you something else,” he said, and it was quiet, like he was telling you a secret only you could know. He was treading carefully, choosing his words particularly - he didn’t do that often. You felt him bunching your shirt up in his fist again, you heard him sigh loudly. “I don’t even know how to say it.” 

The tears were finally slipping free as you began to understand what he was getting at, so you pulled back. You didn’t need him to pity you. 

“It’s fine,” you insisted, trying to push him away. He wouldn’t let you. “I know - I’ll get over it - you don’t have to tell me - I already know.” 

“No, you don’t - you don’t know, Y/N, please, just come here.” 

“Keiji -” 

“Let me show you.” He wasn’t speaking quietly anymore - this wasn’t a secret anymore. “I can’t explain it - let me show you, Y/N - please.” 

“Show me what?” 

“That I feel the same,” he said, pulling you back into his arms. 

For a second, you thought you misheard him.

And then, he kissed you. 

Soft, sweet, new lips were on yours, taking your breath as if he needed it to breathe himself, then breathing a new life into you that you never knew could be alive. It was like striking a match, flicking a lighter, starting a fire; you watched the rubble of your once hidden love burn, all at the hands of Keiji. 

At first you didn’t even know how to kiss him back. It was too much, too bright, too hot - and then, you couldn’t stop kissing him. You anchored your hands on the back of his neck and held him against you, silently begging him to let you take all that you wanted from him. 

You kissed him like you’d never get the chance to do this again, because you were sure you wouldn’t. This hardly felt real, let alone something that would ever happen more than once. So you savored it, you memorized this feeling so you could relive it in your dreams forever. 

A whimper reverberated through your throat and against Keiji’s lips and the feeling made him kiss you deeper, like he was searching for a way to get you to make that noise again. As the kiss got deeper, a natural progression came over your position; before you could realize it, Keiji was on top of you and lying between your legs. 

His touch was hotter than a flame and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time his tongue brushed against yours, it took a part of you with it, and you were ready to give him all of you. 

And then, he stopped kissing you. 

He pulled back only slightly, and when you chased his lips he pulled back even more. You opened your eyes and stared up at him, at his blushed cheeks and pink lips and beautiful eyes. You could see the cogs in his mind turning and for a second it was like you were seeing a part of Keiji he’s never shown you before; the veil of his all knowing gaze was being dropped, only because he was letting it. 

Because all this time, Keiji was hiding, too - hiding in plain sight. You always thought he treated you the way he treated everyone else, that he knew everything about everyone, but it wasn’t true. He only knew all of your secrets because he took the time to find them. He only saw you for who you really were because he cared enough to know. And, unlike you, he was a good actor; good at pretending you weren’t special; good at building walls that would stay up until he was ready for them to come down. 

And with his next words, he made them shatter. 

“I love you.”  

You kept staring at him, trying to figure out if this nervous boy on top of you really was Keiji. 

“Really?” 

He nodded. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you.” 

You brushed his hair out of his face and rested your hand on his cheek, still completely in awe of him, and this was all too much for you to believe. “Is this a prank?” 

He laughed at you, and his nerves seemed to melt away. 

“Damn, you caught me.” His forehead fell to rest on yours, your noses brushed. “No, it’s not a prank. I love you.” 

Somehow this intimacy felt all too foreign and way too familiar, all at once. It was overflowing, your heart was racing, it was hard to breathe, tears were falling from your eyes. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, begging him to assure you of this - to make you believe it. 

And he wiped your tears away as he told you, again, “I love you,” and the kiss he placed on your cheek seemed to make you weep even more. “And I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you replied immediately, “I love you, too - it’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay.” It was obvious, now, that this had been bothering Keiji for longer than you could ever know. “I just… wasn’t ready. Especially with volleyball, and then moving, and then starting university, I just - I never had enough of me to give to you. And you deserve all of me, not just what’s left of me at the end of the day - I don’t know. I’m just… sorry.” 

You didn’t know how to reply to that in a way that was good enough - all you could think to do was kiss him, because you finally could kiss him, so you did. And it was the same as your first: hot and sweet, familiar and foreign, intimate and overwhelming. 

And the more you kissed him, the more it stirred something up inside of you. He wasn’t holding back - not after holding back for years - and it was like he was trying to get any reaction he could out of you. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer than he’s ever been, and the way it felt to have him pressed up against you sent chills across your burning skin. 

You pulled back from the kiss just to take a breath. “Say it again,” you mumbled, because you weren’t tired of hearing those three words yet. A part of you still didn’t believe them.

Instead of saying them, though, he let his kisses trail down your jaw and onto your neck. You could feel the vibrations of his voice when he spoke, “Let me show you.” 

And you knew what he meant, but you teased him anyway, “How do you want to do that?”

His hips seemed to move on their own free will, thrusting against you as if he couldn’t stop them. And it proved that he was just as in over his head as you were; you liked that. You liked knowing you weren’t the only one in a daze. You liked having this effect on Keiji. 

“However you want,” he said through a dry throat. “We can do anything you want.” 

“I just want you,” you told him honestly. You had no other choice anymore - the truth was all you had left. 

“You have me,” he replied. “I’m yours - just let me show you.” 

Your next kiss was interrupted by his shirt coming off, then yours. You felt his bare skin against yours and you were sure this was enough, that you were content with just this. This feeling was all that you needed. 

“You’re pretty,” he whispered to you as his eyes scanned your bare body, and it left you shaking in anticipation as his lips made their way to your chest. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Your eyes couldn’t leave his face as your fingers carded through his hair; you felt his hands travel the length of your body, and every kiss he left on your skin felt like it was touching your heart - all you could do was watch. 

His hand moved lower, his fingers were teasing the edge of your shorts, but he hesitated to cross the barrier. You grabbed his wrist and pushed him across it, showing him that you couldn’t wait for this. 

That’s all Keiji needed to understand how far you were willing to go with him. His skilled fingers worked against you, slipping into your underwear and touching you exactly where you needed them to, and it was better than anything you could ever dream. 

And he did it like it was easy, like he’s spent years getting to know your body and he was doing what he knew would work. Like this was routine rather than your first time. 

This sure as hell felt like it was your first time doing this; you had never felt so sensitive or open or vulnerable. But you had never been touched by a man you wanted so much; you never thought you’d feel his fingers spreading you open or see him on top of you - this is something you’ve only done in daydreams, and now it was real. 

For the first time you were vulnerable and okay with it. You were letting him have all of you, and you trusted that he would treat you right. And he was. Maybe it was your love for him or the disbelief of the situation or both clouding your judgement, but you were convinced that his fingers felt better than your own. 

“Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper, and you replied with a moan that you couldn’t hold in anymore. He laughed, “Does that mean yes?” 

“Keiji, please don’t tease.” 

“I’m not teasing yet,” he replied with a few kisses along your jaw. You felt his fingers moving more, moving toward going inside, but he hesitated. “Y/N…” 

You were pulled out of your daze for just a second as you looked up at his furrowed brows and half lidded eyes; his face left you wondering what he was about to say next. 

“I really like the sounds you’re making,” he said, “but if anyone hears we’ll never hear the end of it.” 

You laughed, because you had completely forgotten that you and Keiji weren’t the only two people in the world - let alone this house. 

“Right,” you breathed out. 

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, but you…” 

Two of his fingers slid into you, and you held back a gasp. 

“...have to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, trying your best to take deep breaths rather than let your voice out. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you replied, giving another nod. 

“Good,” he said. 

His fingers curled, and you covered your mouth with your palm. 

“Stay quiet,” he said, even though it felt like he was doing everything he could so you’d do the opposite. His fingers curling into you were begging for a reaction, and it was hard not to give him one. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

Keiji’s hips were moving again, thrusting against your leg like he just couldn’t help it. You wanted to give him more but you couldn’t - your hands were busy covering your mouth and holding onto the sheets for your life, and so all you could do was watch him grinding against you. 

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, making him laugh. 

Both of you looked down and watched; the curl of his fingers moved in time with his thrusts against you - every time they came forward, you felt his length sliding up your thigh. And when he pulled back, his fingers straightened out. 

You’d give anything to have more. “Keiji,” you started, but you just couldn’t get the words out. 

He said them for you as he pulled his fingers out, “Can I fuck you?” 

You had no other answer besides, “Please,” and you were ready to beg for it if that’s what it came to. 

He started to pull his boxers off, but again, he hesitated. The arm he was holding himself up with was trembling, his breathing was unsteady, his entire body seemed tense. Keiji was hanging on by a thread. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

You were taken aback. “Keiji…” 

“We don’t have to do this now - is it too soon? Are you sure you want me?” 

It was hard to listen to his voice when it sounded so honest. 

Your hands took place on either side of his face, ensuring he would look at you while you spoke to him. 

“Keiji… do you want this?” 

“More than anything,” he replied. 

“I can tell,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember - I don’t think it’s too soon. But we can wait if you want. There’s no pressure, okay?” 

“I don’t,” he said. “I can’t wait - I’m so hard it fucking hurts - I just don’t want you to -” 

“You think too much.” 

He laughed. “I know.” 

You let your hands travel down to his chest, hoping you got through to him. “Don’t overthink it. I want you to fuck me, Keiji,” and your hips thrusted against his as if to convince him of how badly you needed it. “Sooner rather than later.”

It seemed to be good enough, he seemed to believe you, because now he wasn’t hesitating to take off his shorts and yours. The view it gave you struck a burning desire like no other - now that you could see all of him, you couldn’t handle not having all of him. 

And he was raring to give himself to you, coaxing his cock inside of you until you took it all, and both of you felt like you were about to explode. 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and the volume of his voice pulled you back down to the real world. 

“Stay quiet,” you reminded him, giggling because the tables had turned on him. 

“I know,” he said with a nod. “You just feel so good - you’re so fucking tight -  I can’t believe this is happening - oh, fuck, it’s too much.” 

“Move, Keiji,” you whined, bucking your hips up to try to feel anything, and he cursed under his breath when he pulled back to watch your desperate attempt at fucking yourself with his cock. 

“You can do it,” he teased, pulling his hips back a little more so you had more room to move. “Keep going - fuck me like that, kitten, don’t stop.” 

You were dying to feel him meeting your thrusts, because this wasn’t nearly enough, but you loved his teasing. 

“That’s it,” he said, “that’s my girl. Taking me so well, fuck, you’re perfect.” 

He couldn’t take it anymore, that was obvious as his thrusts started. He took a hold of your hips and held you in place so he could take you at his own pace, and he was everything you could ever need. 

Your love for him was spilling from your lips and he was doing everything he could to keep you saying it, bringing you higher with every passing second. Feeling him between your thighs and inside your walls was intoxicating. It was everything you hoped it would be, simply because it was Keiji. 

“I’m close,” you said as if he needed a warning - he could probably already tell. 

“Quiet, kitten,” he said to you, bringing your lips up to his for a kiss. “These sounds are for me - don’t want anyone else hearing what’s mine. Be a good girl for me.” 

“I’m trying,” you replied, and he cooed at your whining. 

“I know,” he mumbled, and just by the sound of his voice you could tell he was liking this. And he was going to make it harder for you when his hand trailed down your body so his fingers could circle your clit. 

He kissed you hard to stop any sound you were about to make and you were grateful for it. 

“I want you to cum for me,” he said, “and I don’t want you to make a sound when you do.” 

“Keiji -” 

His hips and fingers sped up. “I’m serious. Come on, kitten, be my good girl - make me proud and stay quiet while you’re cumming all over my cock. You can do it, I know you can.” 

Any trust he had in you staying quiet until the end was completely misplaced - you knew that when his hand clamped down over your mouth. You didn’t try to hold in your voice at all, and Keiji was having just as much trouble, burying his face into your neck to muffle his noises the best he could. 

It didn’t matter if anyone else could hear you; to you, nothing else mattered but Keiji. He was the only other person in your world, the only person your body would ever scream so loudly for. As long as it was him bringing you to this euphoria, you didn’t care who else knew about it. 

Let your friends give you hell for it, let Kuroo say I told you so - you’d deal with the embarrassment in the morning. That moment was worth it. 

The soft kisses he was leaving on your neck in the wake of hitting your peaks helped you float back down easily. It was like being woken up from a dream, one where the only thing you could remember was how pleasant it was. 

“You were not quiet,” Keiji laughed. You felt your cheeks swelling and heating up in embarrassment. 

“I couldn’t help it…” 

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You still made me proud.” 

He lied next to you and pulled you close, and you convinced yourself that you were going to be there in his arms forever. If you were, you’d have no complaints. 

A quiet moment passed, and you couldn’t stand the silence. “How was… that?” 

He pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, as if he didn’t expect you to ask. “What do you mean?” 

“Was it good? Did you like it? Was I -” 

“It was perfect,” he said, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling as if his high hadn’t completely worn off. “It was everything. Don’t get all shy and insecure on me now that you know I love you back.”  

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. “I’m just making sure.” 

“Do you need me to prove it to you again?” 

“Maybe.”

“I’ll make sure you stay quiet for me this time, then.” 

Whether or not the two of you were successful in your attempts to keep the noise down was up for debate, but by the end of the night, neither of you cared. 

And the next morning, when you forced yourself to leave Keiji and the warmth of the bed, you found Kuroo pacing outside of your door. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hey.” 

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry - what I said last night was way out of line, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for it -”

“It’s fine, Kuroo,” you said, because it was. If you were being honest, after the night you had with Keiji you had completely forgotten about what Kuroo said. 

“It’s not fine,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have done that - you trusted me not to say anything about your feelings, and then I did. I fucked up - why aren’t you pissed right now?” 

Before you could start to think of a reply, the door behind you opened. Keiji’s bed head popped out. 

“Can you guys be quiet?” 

“Sorry,” Kuroo immediately replied. 

Then, Keiji turned to you. “Can you come back to bed? It’s cold.” 

You nodded, and Keiji went back inside, and the moment you looked at Kuroo’s face, you knew he’d figured things out. 

“Did you guys fuck?!” 

You had no response. Keiji, however, called out a simple, “Yeah,” leaving you covering your face in embarrassment. 

“Holy shit. I -” 

You went back into your bedroom before he could even finish his words, slamming the door in his face so he couldn’t finish his boasting. But you heard him say, “You’re welcome!” before finally trodding off, and you shook off your embarrassment as best as you could. 

The breakfast you needed minutes ago was long forgotten as you looked at the view in front of you of the boy who was yours. Keiji was waiting for you with sleepy eyes peeking up at you from soft sheets, a grin on his face, and his arms open. 

He didn’t have to say a word - you were in those arms in seconds. Both of you released a sigh of relief; Keiji was warm again, and you were being held by him again. 

“Finally.” 

“I was gone for, like, two minutes, tops.” 

“I don’t care,” he replied. “It was long enough that I got too cold without you here.”

You felt like you should have more to say, but you didn’t. 

You’d spent years hoping for a moment like this. It was as soft and golden and happy as you’d ever dreamed, and moments like those didn’t need words. You knew how Keiji felt, and despite all your attempts at hiding, Keiji knew how you felt, too. 

And in that moment, when the two of you were lying in the afterglow of intimacy from the night before, finally knowing is all that mattered. 

 - 

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 2: royal 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

--

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though. 

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours. 

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast. 

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 

You almost burst out laughing. 

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure. 

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never. 

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually. 

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it. 

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue. 

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 

It started out with a kiss. 

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss. 

It was only a kiss. 

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 

"I doubt it," he purred. 

Yeah. 

Jungkook was right. 

Ah, well. 

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm. 

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name. 

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him. 

Oh, fuck. 

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 

Yours. 

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 

--

masterpost

[dangan-happy]

( password: I love Sakura... oh, and I also love Sakura.)

i failed my math quiz and now have a 47% in math. no matter how hard I try, I still suck at math. My parents keep threatening to send me to boarding school if I can’t raise my grade. I’m also very stressed for other reasons. can I just get a hug from anybody? I’d prefer akane, Makoto, or Tenko, but I don’t mind Anyone except hifumi, teruteru or sayaka.

Oh man, I'm sorry to hear that anonymous...I can't imagine what it's like to not only fail a quiz but have your parents threaten you with something like boarding school.. That's not cool at all.

Yea, I don't mind giving you a hug at all. I hope things get better for you as soon as possible, especially with the whole boarding school thing.

-

Awh man! That sucks, dude! 

I’d recommend trying to ask ya’ teachers for some help if you’re havin’ trouble, they should be willin’ to explain and help you with things ya’ might find hard. There’s always the internet too, there should be some videos explaining stuff that could help ya’ out! 

Of course ya’ can get a hug! Bring it in! I wish ya’ lots’a luck!

-

Ouch, a low grade? That's not good at all!

That's not very cool of your parents to threaten to send you off to boarding school like that. Grr, if I were there, I just might punch them!

A-Anyway, Akane had some really good advice about talking to your teachers and looking online. Or maybe you could go to a friend of yours and ask for some help from them! Alrighty anon, it's hug time! And I wish you luck on getting an awesome grade on your next quiz!

[sedehaven]

Saving Ophelia Grace’s Toe

Y’all seem to like my stories about being a witch in the Bible Belt, so here’s another one. This is a coming of age story about a young witch (me), a bunch of adults of various degrees of uselessness, and Ophelia Grace’s rotten toe.

This is not a happy story.

Names changed when necessary.

CW: Body squick, graphic injury, incompetent nurse, malevolent nurse, poisoning, bureaucratic nightmares, dark DARK shit ahead

So, in spite of the crushing poverty that I grew up in, I was given the opportunity to attend a very prestigious boarding school for Juniors and Seniors in Klan Kountry, LA. It’s a public school, so it takes kids from all over the state.

My school was run by a dude named Brother Dave.

Brother Dave was so awful that one of our senior pranks (I DID NOT DO THIS) involved a password-protected screensaver on every communal computer in the school (including, I think, Brother Dave’s office computer) of a bouncing, 3-D image of this:

Dude was NOT well-loved. It is important to know that he and I did not get along. When I was still a prospective student, he told us that our mascot was the mighty Eagle, because Eagles Flock Together.

Y’all. Someone watched himself too much Mighty Ducks.

I replied, loud enough for the whole auditorium to hear, “That’s not true, sir. Eaglettes push their smaller and weaker siblings out of the nest as soon as they can.”

He looked to the staff for support, red-faced and embarrassed by this ninety-pound child who stole his thunder.

The biology teacher (who left for greener pastures after my first year--rumored to have been forced out for being too fabulously dykey for the new administration) looked at him and stated, in her very particular and crisp fashion, “Well, she’s right.”

Safe to say, he hated me from the start. So, if you read this and you wonder, “Why didn’t this silly kid just go to the grown-up?” That’s why. He was our grown-up.

Brother Dave started at the school the year before I did. He was brought in by a local Senator, because said local Senator Fucked Up Colossally.

Senator Fuckup was running against Mr. Sketchy Businessman. Mr. Sketchy Businessman was backed by the Ku Klux Klan (a big deal in parts of the world, folks. My school was in David Duke country.)

Senator Fuckup had a fancy name--well-respected all around the state. Like, several statues of one of his relations decorate the state capital. Big name.

Problem is, Senator Fuckup is half-Black.

In Klan Kountry.

Y’all.

So he’s already at a disadvantage. As it turns out, it takes a village to start a magnet school. Senator Fuckup was one of the founding board members, and promised all kinds of benefits if they put the school in HIS district.

Their other offer was in my own hometown, the Hub City, where several of our major state highways cross with two Interstates.A place with art and history and culture. A place with one of the largest outdoor music festivals in the state--a multicultural, international music festival! With art walks and museums and Mardi Gras parades! With a three-story library, a library for French language and culture, and the second-largest university in Louisiana!

Senator Fuckup PROMISED that the school wouldn’t want for anything if they went to Klan Kountry.

So they did.

It was no great secret that this school was Senator Fuckup’s baby. At the time that I attended, the school was number one in the nation. Something to be proud of.

Except.

Except.

Except that in order to keep various forms of funding, the school was required to take in more melanin-blessed individuals than the locals liked.

Enter Mr. Sketchy Businessman, who ran a series of TV and radio ads claiming that our STATE funded school was stealing money from the local school district.

That’s right. He claimed that our school took money away from the poor Whites of Klan Kountry and gave to the diverse and metropolitan school for the gifted.

Senator Fuckup tried to deflect and dismiss, BUT did NOT rebut those claims. He didn’t believe that the school’s funding was THAT MUCH of an issue.

Any reasonable person would understand that the school was funded from the State taxes. Right?

As it turns out, Klan Kountry is not filled with reasonable people.

Senator Fuckup is a member of a particular subgroup in Klan Kounrty--a not-insignificant population of Catholic Creoles. So, after he wins his election--barely--he realizes that Something Must Be Done to help the image of the school that everybody knew as HIS baby.

Enter his old friend, Brother Dave. Brother Dave, who nearly bankrupted his previous school. His brother-in-law was a contractor who got a few really juicy contracts through him.

Protip: Nepotism only works if the person being nepotized is competent.

Spoiler: Brother Dave’s brother-in-law built schools about as well as Brother Dave ran them.

Brother Dave’s old school is attached to an order of monks who build cheap and simple caskets for people who are into that kind of thing.

They bake bread for the poor. These are good people.

Y’all, these people made it KNOWN--statewide--that they had a casket ready for ol’ Dave if he ever stepped foot in their town again.

Still, Senator Fuckup decided that THIS was the man who would lead my school into a glorious future.

Brother Dave took an aggressive stance on admissions. He wanted kids who didn’t have a lot of drama, and kids who looked (WHITE) good on the recruiting materials. He pulled hard from the local Catholic (Segregation) Academies.

Y’all.

Our Black kids were nearly White-passing mixed-race kids, one kid who was ACTUALLY from Africa, a couple of kids from Catholic schools, and one dark-skinned Baptist girl who is bombshell model-gorgeous. (For those glossy brochures.)

So as many White Catholic kids as possible.

Y’all.

I’ve competed with private school fuckwits in academic contests my whole life, up to that point. If it was something that required preparation (science fair, for example), they wiped the floor with us.

Because daddy the petroleum engineer did the project for them.

If it was a you-know-it-or-you-don’t thing (quiz bowl, for example), they lost so brutally that I might have felt bad for them. You know, if they had souls. Which they did not.

So Brother Dave populated our school with what he thought were “good kids”. White, Catholic kids.

Spoiler: My class started with 250 students. We graduated less than half of that, even after he backfilled our class with new kids between junior and senior year. The class after mine was worse.

Why is that?

White Catholic kids at segregation academies in the late 90′s basically did busy-work worksheet stuff all day. They were not ready for 10 page papers and 5 page lab reports and 100+ pages of reading and 20-50 math problems and projects, projects, projects!

Also, if all you do is worksheets and sit-down-and-shut-up, there has to be a certain...chemical element...to cope.

So, yeah. Drugs. So much drugs. And booze.

Brother Dave also hired Nurse Bitchy Fuckface. She was actually his first hire.

Nurse Bitchy was a walking disaster.

I was sixteen when I first met her, and because she didn’t smell like street drugs (I KNOW WHAT THAT SHIT IS), I missed a lot of signs.

Looking back, I think that she might have been a Prozac-and-wine kind of person. But, as the only drugs that I was familiar with came from street pharmacists, I thought she was just evil.

Hateful to the queers, pagans, Goths, and all assorted weirdos.

You know, all the kids who could actually handle the schoolwork and the pressure. *eyeroll*

I’m allergic to Sudafed. Weird, huh?

A senior at my school told me to be careful with Nurse Bitchy. She has a sensitivity to acetaminophen (Tylenol) and couldn’t have it. Nurse Bitchy had given it to her a couple of times.

It was on my senior’s medical chart. If you’re keeping score, that’s felony attempted murder.

Nurse Bitchy gave me Sudafed seventeen times (that I remember) while I was at that school. She very nearly killed me doing it. Some times I knew, and some times I did not.

“But why did you take it, if you knew?”

Well, you innocent dove, if I refused to take the medicine that the Nurse gave me, then I got written up. Enough write-ups and I got kicked out.

My home school in the Hub City? Eh...as bad as Klan Kountry was, I didn’t have someone assaulting me daily. I didn’t have a gang of girls who got away with attempting to rape me with a broom handle. I didn’t have a very big kid who was given liberties with me (BY THE STAFF) because he was special ed.

Or, as my guidance counselor liked to say (after my father was murdered and I was flunking chemistry--not because of dad’s death, but because the chemistry teacher put all the girls and Black boys in the back of the class--which had NO air conditioning on hundred-degree days--after Brother Dave’s brother-in-law “fixed” it that summer), “Stephanie, you know that you’re the poorest student here. Do you really want to go back to THAT?”

No. I did not.

Under pain of going home to poverty, rape, assault, and maybe death, I took her poison. She watched me do it. And she smiled.

I only went to Nurse Bitchy when I was forced to. This happened far more often my Junior year. The teachers would send me because I was sick (I come from a smoker’s home, and I’m an asthmatic who is allergic to tobacco. My family never quit, so I’d end up with smoker’s pneumonia most times that I went home. Thanks for the lung scars, fam.)

Eventually, when I was a Senior, my computer science teacher realized that I was unresponsive with a fever in her class. She was new that year, and didn’t know any better. So she woke me up and sent me along. Nurse Bitchy gave me the usual and sent me back to class.

Very few humans retain the ability to projectile vomit after age seven. Did you know that?

Lucky me, I did. I still can.

I hurled all over my keyboard. I hurled and hurled. My classmates screamed and ran.

My computer science teacher, an ice-cold woman of Indian descent with a very posh English accent, unplugged the vomit-soaked, ruined keyboard. She took it and me to the nurse.

She slammed the keyboard down on her desk and screamed at her to NEVER send a sick child to her class again.

Nurse Bitchy was (shocking, I know) a racist. She feared the angry Indian lady.

My computer science teacher, I believe, spread the word about Nurse Bitchy’s ineffectiveness. Teachers stopped sending students to her.

That left a vacuum. Nobody was being forced to get medical help. But medical help was still needed.

Before going to school in Klan Kountry, I was a veterinary technician. I worked under-the-table from too young. Illegal-child-labor-too-young.

But, I knew my stuff. I had a stocked medicine cabinet and a dissection kit.

I started doing everything up to and including prison surgery in my dorm room.

I could handle most anything. Which was better than worrying that the nurse was going to poison one of my friends into the ground.

I didn’t ask for money or food or anything (food was a commodity at that school because our cafeteria was infested). I worked for the goodwill of my classmates, which is the shiniest coin in the realm.

I’d gotten into witchcraft earlier that year. People trusted the witch over the nurse. That’s where my school was.

I only had one case that I really couldn’t treat.

Y’all.

It was traditional in the girls’ dorms that unless you were asleep or studying, you kept your door open. Mine was open that night. I was writing Sailor Moon fanfiction, procrastinating on one project or another. I don’t remember, it was twenty-two years ago.

Ophelia Grace (not her real name) came to my door in Doc Martens, favoring a foot. Her roommate or a suitemate or maybe another theatre kid was holding her up as she hobbled into my room.

I hadn’t heard that she’d been hurt, but apparently she had been. She was feverish and weak. Her face was bright red. She was babbling.

“I’m sorry,” she said over and over again. She apologized for coming late. She apologized for coming at all. She was shaking.

I sat her and her friend on my roommate’s bed (we’d bunked them, and I had the top bunk). My roommate was out, in the art lab working on a particularly tricky painting. Probably for the best. He was squeamish (my ex-roommate is a transman, so I’m using his preferred pronouns.)

I grabbed a large bowl and a mug, filled both with water (salted the bowl of water), and went down the hall to the microwave.

The water in Klan Kountry was filthy. It smelled bad and tasted worse. Remember Mr. Sketchy Businessman? He wanted to relax EPA regulations for himself and his sketchy business friends.

They were actively dumping into the city reservoir. But Mr. Sketchy Businessman promised to KKKeep KKKlan KKKountry Lily, so he got 49% of the votes.

Racist douche.

I boiled the water in the microwave--first the mug, then the bowl. It was a walk I’d make several times that evening.

Ophelia had a fever, holding steady at “fucking HOT” by the estimate of her friend. My thermometer pegged it at 102. Not good.

I put a teabag and two whole cloves in the cup and let it steep while I took her temperature. I asked her what happened. I don’t remember the specifics of the injury, but I believe that something got dropped on her toe. I think it happened in the theatre.

Ophelia thought she could walk it off. I remember that.

She kept apologizing. I honeyed the tea and shoved it in her hands. The tea helped. She was shivering--hard--from the wracking chills of her fever.

I remember how her febrile shivers made the bunk beds shake.

I remember thinking that I was in over my head.

I remember grabbing my oldest towels, and closing my door.

I remember praying.

And then I took her boot off.

Y’all.

I’ve smelled rot. Some people think that all rot smells the same.

It does not.

Corpse stink has its own bouquet. Blood rot has a distinct stench. Necrotic yeast infections almost smell good--like yeast rolls and something meatier.

I’d smelled Ophelia’s particular rot before.

I was fourteen. A momma dog was brought in, heavily pregnant. She’d been delivering, and the third pup got stuck. There were 11 left. The stuck pup was dead, but we managed to save 4 behind him, plus the first 2, born healthy.

The uterus had begun to rot inside, and several of the pups had been dead for some time.

The spaying that happened after the pups were removed was green and black, with the consistency of pudding. We pulled as much out as we could, but the rest had to be rinsed out.

Thankfully, I’ve smelled that smell very few times after. It smells pungent and strong. Like garlic. Like a cream of garlic stew.

I thought I’d gotten a whiff of THAT smell when Ophelia walked in, and again when she sat down. Pulling her boot off was like the first deep cut into momma dog. Garlic and blood.

The smell of something rotting in someone still alive.

She had on two socks. I peeled off the first one. There was a stain at the toe. The second sock was worse. The smell hung around.

Our windows were screwed shut. I couldn’t do anything about the smell.

Ophelia cried into her tea. She was still apologizing.

The toe was purple and black. There was a lot of yellow pus under the nail, which was leaking out on either side. Red streaks ran up her instep, tracing her veins.

The toe was swollen and needed a lance.

I had no idea how she climbed the stairs to get to me. (I was on the third floor, and she lived below. We had no elevator.)

She started to get loud (peeling those socks off HURT), so I asked her a question. I asked about her history paper. The ten-page history paper was a rite-of-passage at the school, and I knew it was coming due for her. I told her to tell me about her topic and her sources.

She did.

Thank the Lord and Lady.

I got my dissection kit and rubbing alcohol. I made things as sterile as I could.

I told her that it would probably hurt, but that I would work quickly.

Her friend left after the first cut. She didn’t stay gone long, but I heard her vomit in our suite’s toilet.

Ophelia kept talking about her paper. I led her around on that topic, asking questions and asking for clarification. Asking about the books she’d read, and offering a few that I was familiar with on the subject.

This is why doctors and dentists know so many things about so many subjects. Talking keeps the patient calm.

Meanwhile, pus and blood dripped from the slits that I made in her flesh, onto a towel that bore the stains until I donated it to the animal shelter, years later.

I soaked her toe in the bowl of water. The salt burned, but she couldn’t scream.

There was an adult who was supposed to be watching us. If she was alerted to my low-tech medical unit, she would have stopped me and sent Ophelia to the murder nurse.

I filled another bowl, salted it, and microwaved it.

Ophelia’s friend rejoined us, and watched as I squeezed the rest of the pus out of her. Her toenail slipped off in the third bowl. The toenail was cracked. Ophelia kept it.

I wonder if she still has it?

Triple antibiotic ointment and a sterile dressing later, I told her to tell the nurse that she needed a doctor. Nurse Bitchy couldn’t keep us from a doctor if we asked for one. She said that she would.

I gave her a few oral anti-inflammatory pills and some Benadryl to get a good night’s sleep.

She left, with her boot in her hand and a soft smile on her lips. I cleaned my tools, my bowls, the floor where her foot was, and had to do a load of laundry because that one rag smelled so awful.

My roommate came back in time for headcount, and asked if I’d made ramen. Said it smelled pretty good in there.

It did. Rot can do that.

It was hard to sleep that night. I cried quietly until sleep took me.

Ophelia recovered. She became a witch some time later. In college, I think. We’re still friends, in a Facebook kind of way.

Brother Dave is still alive. After working for my school, he ended up helping the Church cover up three decades of sex abuse at a diocese school. Not sure what he’s up to, but probably nothing good. He’s a garbage human.

Nurse Bitchy just retired. She lasted twenty years at that school. God knows how.

Senator Fuckup died in a car crash and the school is being renamed after him. So are the new dorms that are being built.

Klan Kountry cleaned up their water after I left. That’s really good news.

The school continues. Apparently, it got better with Brother Dave’s leavetaking. I hope that’s true.

And me?

I’m still a witch. I’m still here.

And I can still smell that rotten toe on the edge of nightmares half-remembered.

~*~

I don’t want my diploma revoked or to be sued, so disclaimer time.

This is fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead is coincidental.

[newavakinlifecheats-blog]

New Avakin Life Cheats

New Avakin Life Guide

New Avakin Life manual is a guide for a famous new game. When you have chosen a product / condo, click on the picture of the present and select the name of a pal to make a gift. You may additionally send a praise to a player from the same place. Click on on the individual you want to praise, click the "present" button and choose the object you want from the list. You'll no longer be deducted budget until the consumer accepts the gift. I gave the object to any other player, but it does no longer appear in their stock. Then on occasion going out buying or ingesting espresso, in addition to going to events and swimming swimming pools, ... all of the maximum stunning, high priced, and costly things inside the world can be modeled and simulated via telephone handiest. There you're the primary man or woman. Instead, every body here is the main individual. Which means that the game will assist you build a miniature society proper on the internet. Absolutely everyone concerned in the sport can create a lovely identity for themselves and then meet friends. The "partitions" and "floors" tabs will seem in the front of you, permitting you to change their color. The way to boom the level? Level up by using earning xp (revel in factors). You may earn xp by using speaking with different players, taking part in a cafe or bar, buying goods. The way to make my man or woman take a seat or lie? Your person can sit on sofas and armchairs, in which there are suitable seats. You may also purchase numerous poses or animations to your person in the store. Vibrant and full of adventures, visiting and new human beings round, it is, in reality, a tightly inhabited unfastened chat with superior avatar building. Life simulation is a special kind of sport, adventurous and meditative at the identical time. Think about what you need to see your lifestyles like, and act to get it. Avakin life is an environment complete of fun and possibilities, that welcomes you to turn out to be what you want to see in the mirror. There may be no straight assignment in this sport, even though it incorporates a few quests that allows you to improve your degree. Literally this isn't truthful!! I want others have been able to see my clothes :'((( i am so poor so i can't purchase high-priced garments whyyyyy i understand it is a truely suitable recreation however !. I do not recognize why for all i'm bare when i am garments restoration it so i'm dressed for all pls bro, pls make it mod menu....mod is vastly special from mod menu.the real joy is there even as playing it with the menu..the lockwood has deleted all of the websites which add the mod menu version....pls investigate it bro pls👍🏻 avakin life is a social function-gambling sport on the way to take the person to a colourful virtual global. My account is blocked / suspended. Am i able to make a refund? In case your account is blocked / suspended, you aren't entitled to money back. I forgot my password, what am i able to do in this case? When you have forgotten your password, use the login menu by using clicking on the "forgot password" panel. Input your email, then it'll get hold of an email with instructions. If you certain a non-existent electronic mail while registering an account, contact customer service via clicking on the red contact us button. To keep away from further conversation with this participant, block him. I witnessed unlawful moves while gambling avakin existence, what must i do? Record a grievance towards a participant by clicking on the correct subject inside the participant's profile. Provide as much records as viable.examples of unlawful acts include: if a fake grievance is found, action can be all for admire for your account. Filing complaints can be based totally on personal hostility or filing a complaint in retaliation. I filed a complaint in opposition to some other player, but he is still gambling. From the very beginning, whilst you pick the advent for your individual, you will see that it looks and sounds tremendous. Beaches and sports golf equipment, bars and houses, all of them appearance cool and sound cool. Heh, they even write club tune with avakin existence noted in house tracks! So the game is awesome, its genuinely three-d, and it sounds just as excellent because it looks. Avakin existence offers inexhaustible opportunities for constructing your virtual life. Assembly new people in an lively chat is greater thrilling, as you see what they are attempting to represent. Limitless money: mod Avacoins in this game is impossible due to the fact this is an internet recreation. A internet site that says they've the mod model is faux at all. Be careful with that. On account that that is an internet game, so mod unlocks costumes & objects will simplest work for you. Other gamers will no longer see your clothes. I have attempted this mod and at the beginning, it worked simply first-class and it helped me degree up so quickly however once i try to down load it now it barely works, i love avakin lifestyles mods they used to paintings however for some purpose, different humans can't see the clothes, poses, dances or whatever you operate in-sport if you're the use of the mod and i significantly don't understand why?! You could even win a jackpot prize. There are 2,000 questions in the game, divided into five categories: music, celebrities, style, films and entertainment. Questions range from notable simple to extremely complex. You can use 3 hints to reply the maximum tough questions. Use them accurately: gamers who do no longer play the quiz can take a look at the individuals and discuss questions, however cannot answer any of them. Questions and solutions are in english handiest. Participation within the quiz expenses 1 avacoin, that is then no longer refundable. A yellow token reduces production time by way of 1 hour.a blue token reduces production time via 1 day. Yellow tokens are brought each 12 hours or earned through viewing ads inside the interface of a production device. In which to find the object that i built? When an item is finished, it's miles mechanically brought on your stock.please take a look at carefully. If you cannot locate the object inside the stock, contact assist by means of clicking "no" after which "contact us" on your screen. Why cannot i exchange the shade of the walls and floor? Optionally circulate furniture and decorations to create area inside the house. This also allows you benefit a variety of revel in factors to degree up. "work hard, play hard". After a hard day of work, the evening is when you wear the most beautiful, most expensive clothes and take part in parties in the city, be it a nightclub or a lively music party at your friend's house. If you are a person who likes to meet, date and chat with strangers, this is a great place for you because avakin life features to chat with people around. After confirming your application, you can share this with your friends on social networks to advertise your participation in the contest. After starting the game you need to give permission to write data to the device's memory. This permission will allow avakin life to save account data and photos in the device's memory. How do i link my avakin life account to google play? First of all, you need to link your account to a valid e-mail or google play. After that, go to settings> account> logout. Conviértelo en un punto de reunión privado para ti y tus amigos o invita a todo el mundo a echarle un vistazo. Comparte tu espacio con tu petkin favorito: escoge un amigo ideal para ti de una amplia selección de petkins, interactúa con él, dale afecto y cuida su alimentación. ¡y eso no es todo! Además, podrás darle un estilo único a tu avatar: exprésate probando cientos de estilos de ropa, peinados, tatuajes y accesorios exclusivos. Actualizado con regularidad con nuevos muebles, entornos y animaciones de avatar para darle a avakin una nueva vida... ¡avakin life! For the first time, online will have their chances to engage in the complete virtual online gameplay that features every aspect of the actual world. Enjoy yourself in the exciting 3d world, in which you can feel free to be your own person. Enjoy the simple and effective communication features and meet new people in avakin life. Make new friends as you join them in your adventures in avakin life. Experience a complete second life like never before. Switch between different looks by having varied clothes or just simply change your hairstyles. Can i turn on my music in the apartment? Yes. You need to purchase shoutcast radio in the store to play music. Where can i get my own apartment and what does it give me? You can purchase your own apartment by going to the store, in the "apartments" section, where you can choose something to your liking. After that, you can decorate and equip the apartment to your taste by buying your favorite furniture and decor items in the store.you can also chat with friends and send messages while in your apartment. These games give players the pleasure of discovering a whole new world by themselves, allowing us to do whatever we want without paying attention to rules. Avakin life by lockwood publishing is also such a game. The game was released on april 22, 2016, so far the game has reached over 10 million downloads on google play. In the beautiful 3d world, you can comfortably dress up, shop, explore and meet, make friends with other players around the world. This is a great opportunity for you to have a second life, trying to be the person you dreamed of. After confirming your application, you can share this with your friends on social networks to advertise your participation in the contest. After starting the game you need to give permission to write data to the device's memory. This permission will allow avakin life to save account data and photos in the device's memory. How do i link my avakin life account to google play? First of all, you need to link your account to a valid e-mail or google play. After that, go to settings> account> logout. My account is blocked / suspended. Can i make a refund? If your account is blocked / suspended, you are not entitled to a refund. I forgot my password, what can i do in this situation? If you have forgotten your password, use the login menu by clicking on the "forgot password" panel. Enter your e-mail, then it will receive an email with instructions. If you specified a non-existent e-mail when registering an account, contact customer support by clicking on the red contact us button. Do you want to become a hero of your kingdome? Then download this game and battle with the wave of evils to protect your kingdom. Now you can teleport your avakin avatar to anywhere using teleport mod. Just choose whether you want to teleport and activate the mod. This mod will increase your avakin life avatar level. As we know, when we open a game for the first time, it starts at level zero. I know, you are getting unlimited money in this mode from which you can buy any dance emote, but this mod is useful when you like someone's dances. It's easy to put furniture when you know how to do it! First of all, open the apartment editing mode: how to drag items of furniture? Drag the item you like from the category into the furniture grid on the screen. Move the furniture along the grid and release it so that the object falls into place. How to move the furniture? To move furniture, click on the item and hold with one finger. Use your second finger to move left and right to rotate the item. My apartment has several floors and rooms, how to arrange furniture in other rooms? Your character should be in the same room that you would like to furnish. If you are unable to put the furniture, try, try rotating the camera. Can i put one item on another? You can place small objects on tables by dragging them to the surface. Do i have to file complaints with other players? Only file a complaint if a player is aggressive or violates the avakin life rules. Organize an unforgettable party and invite your avakin life friends to dance with you and have fun. The best 3d simulation game where you can be a person you always wanted to be in your virtual life. Be a hero or even a villain, whatever you want to complete your dream. Chat with the world's largest virtual game community and make new friends every day also enjoy role-playing with dozens of exciting locations. Below, i am giving you the most straightforward way yo download avakin life mod. If this seems hard, then you can see the below screenshot for better understanding. Note: uninstall any previously installed version of the game; otherwise, it will show an error during the installation process. Below, i am answering some questions that my friends asked me about this game. If you think i didn't pick up your question, then you can comment down. I would love to solve your queries. Yes, you can, but you need an android emulator installed on your desktop. You can buy the top fashion brand clothes in the world. When starting the game, you are offered some money to buy and unlock some types of clothes that you like. Money and experience points can be earned by working and doing daily tasks. Of course. No matter which world you need to work if you want to have money. However, unlike the real world, avakin life allows you to choose any job you love without any experience, college degree or any other requirement. Please note that the use of filters is not available on these devices: how to send a message to the general chat? Go to the location and select the globe icon in the chat window. Will avakin life work on my device? Avakin life is available on platforms such as android, apple, amazon mobile devices, and the facebook gameroom on pc. We recommend using devices with at least 2gb of ram. How to give a friend a present? Any store item or apartment can be presented to a friend. As soon as you leave the editing mode, the player will start playing again. Will shoutcast affect the amount of mobile data i use? Like any other streaming service, shoutcast can transfer large amounts of data. We recommend connecting to wifi before using shoutcast. How to use a construction machine? In a construction machine, you can build things absolutely free! Items that can be built in a construction vehicle are marked with a blue icon in the store. To build an item: use acceleration tokens to speed up the construction process! Plus, bring your home to life with brand new interactive furniture. • relax in the luxurious cannaregio courtyard with an extravagant jaguar petkin. Complete the scene with striking golden fashion pieces from cloud nine. • relax in the luxurious cannaregio courtyard with an extravagant jaguar petkin. Complete the scene with striking golden fashion pieces from cloud nine. • relax in the luxurious cannaregio courtyard with an extravagant jaguar petkin. Complete the scene with striking golden fashion pieces from cloud nine. • reconnect with nature in the rainforest retreat social spot. The easiest way to get items is to buy them at the store for Avacoins. Avacoins can be purchased at the store, in the appropriate section. Some products can be built in a construction machine or obtained from the mysterious box by looking at advertisements in which Avacoins, crystals, and unique products can be served. When you switch to photo mode, you will be asked to use filters. When you select the one you like, click "set as apartment photo" in the lower left corner. Not only choose a character that possesses the right appearance, but you can also custom the skin color, hairstyle, face, and clothing. A tall, masculine guy with a romantic hair and stylish clothes? A cute, cheerful girl who always smiles with the guys around? A hip-hop guy possessing a unique, "crazy" style? If you had an idea about the character, why don't you make it today? Avakin life encourages players to create special styles. The game has hundreds of types of hair, clothes, shoes, skirts and more. Someone offered me free coins. What to do? This is a popular fraud method called phishing. You will be asked to provide an e-mail and account password, but this is not worth it! Never share your account information with third parties! I wanted to purchase an item in the store, but now i can not find it in the store. How to find him?use the search bar in the lower right corner of the store. Some products appear in the store for a limited time.similar products can be identified by the corresponding timer icon. It's easy to put furniture when you know how to do it! First of all, open the apartment editing mode: how to drag items of furniture? Drag the item you like from the category into the furniture grid on the screen. Move the furniture along the grid and release it so that the object falls into place. How to move the furniture? To move furniture, click on the item and hold with one finger. Use your second finger to move left and right to rotate the item. Where to find the item that i built? When an item is completed, it is automatically added to your inventory.please check carefully. If you cannot find the item in the inventory, contact support by clicking "no" and then "contact us" on your screen. Why can't i change the color of the walls and floor? Not all apartments have a similar function. If you look at the list of apartments in the store, you will understand in which apartments you can change the color of walls and floors using the icon with the paint roller icon. He loves to organize parties. Are you not tired of planning a party literally to download avakin life to plan a party? Haha, i was just a boy, you could have a party at home and at games. Your life, party wherever you want. If you have a life, then live happily. But there are some people who haven't been able to organize groups in real life. Because they are so busy with their work, those people shouldn't have to worry, avakin life mod made for them, download and organize groups as much as possible.

[neonnihilism]

homesick when you’re home

They sat on top of Gavin’s roof. The two of them used to sit up here with their group of friends, all up until the rest found weed and forgot about them. Now it was just Gavin and Dan. They didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, did nothing except talk to each other. They’ve shared secrets to last a million friendships. There was still a foot of space between them. Gavin’s hand was outspread between them.

Gavin turned to Dan. “I don’t belong here.” After a few second of silence, he took a deep sigh.

Dan thought about what to say. Of course they talked about deep subjects here, it was why they were so isolated here, so no one would hear. “Yeah?” is all Dan said.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah. I can’t explain it. This isn’t where I’m supposed to be.”

Dan didn’t understand it. He felt like this is exactly where he had to be in this moment. This felt like a lock and key finally meeting. Except Gavin didn’t feel the same. Dan was used to that. “Where do you belong, B?”

“I don’t know.” Gavin sounded tired, physically and emotionally. ‘I don’t know’ slurred into ‘I dunno.’ “Anywhere not here.”

“What, like outside of England?”

Beat of silence. “I guess. It’s just,” Gavin groaned. “not here! Doesn’t matter if it’s outside of this city, or outside of this country, or out of this continent, or out of this world. I don’t want to be here. Dan. I hate it.”

If Dan were braver, he would have taken Gavin’s hand then. Trace a few words onto the back of his hand. Would have done anything. Instead he turns to Gavin. “Sounds terrible, B,” he says.

Gavin looks back, and nods. “I feel like an alien here. Though, not with you. You make it better. Not as bad.” He rolled onto his stomach, ruffled his hair, put his face into his hands. “I should live in a big city. London or something. I’m too much for a little village town.”

“Too much what?”

“Just, too much. That’s it.” Another frustrated groan. “I want to blend in with the city. People won’t stop and look at me for any reason. It’s a big city, who cares if some guy trips over his own feet. There’s better things to be looking at. I want to camouflage. Pretend I’m one of them. I could even act like them. All shallow.”

“City people aren’t shallow on principle, you know that.”

“Let me fantasize, B.”

Dan raised his hands in surrender. “Go on then.”

Gavin is silent, obviously thinking. He sits up. “Or,” he says. “A rural town. Where I can hide away for months. Just be myself. Not worry about other people or how they view me.”

“You wouldn’t survive a day on a farm. You don’t even own boots!”

“That can be fixed easily!” Gavin laughed. Dan laughs with him. When he’s done, he sighs.

This isn’t where Gavin belongs, but it’s definitely where Dan belongs.

Then Gavin started learning everything he could. School was out for the summer, jobs were worked in the early afternoon. This meant Gavin had the rest of the time to mess about. First, he tried learning photography. Got a few bucks for taking pictures for neighbors, sending pictures to articles. Then, he learned about his computer’s hardware. What started as a routine cleaning ended with half his computer unscrewed and laying around on his carpet. When Dan opened the door, Gavin yelled, because he had just hit the computer tower. He stayed around, watching Gavin google every single part for identification. He watched him clean the dust out of it and watched him put everything together again. He sat on the floor for a few seconds.

Then he started taking it apart again.

Dan left the third time Gavin asked him to quiz him on computer parts.

Gavin bought better specs for his computer, which lead to more power, which lead to better pictures, which lead to more money, which lead to better specs. He was in that cycle for a year. When Gavin’s 17th birthday rolled around, Dan got him ‘Coding for Dummies,’ and didn’t see him for two weeks. By the time he came out of his sleep deprived and bloodshot eyes state of being, he knew linux. And was in possession of a coffee addiction. Dan took care of the second part, cutting him off from coffee.

Gavin never stopped at ‘good enough.’ When Dan stayed the night, he showed him his latest project. A few scripts, none of which Dan understood. Gavin was grinning hard, so Dan rolled with it.

“So what does it do?”

“Well. It hacks.”

“It does what? Gavin, what are you planning on doing with that?”

“I put a few words into it, maybe someone’s birthday, their dog’s name, graduation year, and out pops a password. If they used any of that stuff to make it, of course.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“It basically puts that stuff in random order until it makes the right password. Brute force.”

Dan nods. He waits for Gavin to acknowledge the second part of his question. What does Gavin want to do with this. It’s obviously nothing good.

Gavin never acknowledges it.

On Gavin’s 18th birthday, Gavin has a following. Somebody DDos attacked their school server, and with such a small class, it wasn’t hard for the rumors to start. Maybe it was Gavin, who spent all his time in the school’s library, writing scripts to get past the school’s firewall. Of course, going through firewalls wasn’t enough. A few months into senior year, none of the staff or faculty could log into the servers. They were being overloaded. Though, the staff never heard the rumors, Dan was panicked. One of them had to be, and it wasn’t Gavin.

“Relax, it was just a little attack. It wasn’t on anything special, just a school. The most time I could get is 10 years.”

“10 bloody years, Gavin. You’d be getting out of jail at 28. That’s terrible!”

Gavin just laughed. Nobody messed with him anymore, for fear of getting hacked. The A/V nerds flocked to him, looked up to him. Dan thought it would get to his head, but he was still the same boy he met in the first place. Still flubs on his words, still trips everywhere, still too lanky to control himself. He was just worshipped as a tech god at school.

He gets even more daring. Hacking into open-source phones, looking through pictures. He had no need for blackmail, though, he got enough money from photography. The photography had evolved right before their eyes. One day, Gavin was shadowing a slow motion photographer, and the next he’s buying phantoms left and right. Sure, hacking and programming did make money. He could offer his services to companies, to test their security or to strengthen it himself. But having the niche market of slow motion backing him up, Gavin was becoming a hot commodity. Local directors wanted him, badly. When he wasn’t filming or at school, he was in his room testing the boundaries of the law. Tips to the police did put a shiny buck in his pocket in between shoots, though. Serves criminal’s right for leaving evidence on their phone.

Then he got really cocky. Hacking into a CTO’s phone. Text messages, emails, and bank account info galore. First, Gavin started draining hundreds. Nothing he would miss. When the CTO upped the security, Gavin got cockier. He could access the CEO of the company’s laptop, and as soon as his phone was connected to it, Gavin could access the phone. He drained a little bit more. A few thousands here and there. A few months of that, with no signs of Gavin, he drained a couple hundred thousand. He was rolling in dough. Then, he saw the emails. Embezzlement. All coming from the CEO. Gavin placed a few backdoors to come back to. He drained 1 million. When the bells started ringing over at the company, he sent the proof of embezzlement to the government under someone else’s name. The company was gone and bled like a skunk, and now Gavin had more than a million dollars. He had no idea what to do. He couldn’t keep it.

The panic started setting in an hour after he realized what he was doing. Hundreds of donations went out under an off-shore bank account.

But by then, Gavin saw the light.

They sat on the roof again. Facing each other. Gavin had his legs spread out, while Dan sat cross-legged. Dan thinks about what Gavin said when they were 16 about once a month. It usually happens when they’re on this roof. He doesn’t know if Gavin remembers that night. He doesn’t ask, but he realizes he doesn’t need to. Gavin is silent, staring at his own hand. His fingers flex and spread out, then he closes them into a fist. He’s looks off the side of the roof, onto the small town with it’s splitting roads that lead to either pubs or stores, and that’s it. Dan can see his eyes unfocus on the terrain, just staring at the air.

He still doesn’t feel like he belongs here.

Dan turned away, looking at the other side of the roof.

They were just different. Dan belonged here. In this moment, in this town, in this country. On this roof with Gavin. If he had to imagine his one place, it would be on this roof. That isn’t the case for Gavin.

“I have more than a million dollars in my bank account right now.”

Dan felt woozy. He almost threw up. “You have-”

“This isn’t even the first time. Or even the second.”

“Gavin-”

“The first time, I knew I couldn’t keep it. I donated it all to a bunch of charities. The second time. I wanted the thrill of the first time. I spent a few thousand. Did the same thing as the first.”

“How-” When Gavin opened his mouth to cut Dan off again, he put his finger up. “No. I question, you answer. How do you keep this money in your bank?”

“Offshore bank account. Wiring the money to a bank in Switzerland. All I had to do was get the forms, ship them, have a million dollars, and done.”

“Is this legal?” “Offshore banking is legal.”

“I meant, is how you are gettin’ it legal,” Dan said.

Gavin stayed silent.

“Oh, Jesus, Gavin.”

“Who else can say they’re a millionaire by 19?”

“Entrepreneurs who worked for their money!”

Dan thinks. Thinks about Gavin, mainly. He was right, back then. When they sat on here and he talked about how he didn’t belong. He really didn’t. It pained Dan to admit it. That maybe, they were different. Too different. Dan had his future planned. Gavin went with the flow and his impulse.

That made this either really easy, or really hard. Dan’s planned future is why he wanted to be here. Dan looked at Gavin. He was already looking back.

“I’m joining the army, Gav.”

Gavin looked down.

“You were right. All those years ago. You were right, you don’t belong here.” Dan looked down as well. “You belong somewhere greater. Somewhere that can hold you and everything you bring with you. Not some rural town, raising sheep right next to a gravel road. London, or  Birmingham. Machester even-”

“Like Los Santos.”

“Yeah, if you want to go to America.”

Silence.

Dan looked up at Gavin. He was biting at his nails, avoiding Dan’s gaze.

“Gavin.”

“I got noticed, B. Extremely noticed.” Gavin’s voice was low.

Low enough to make Dan remember all of the times he fell in love with that voice. Every single time they were on this roof. Every time Dan thought about kissing him in the dead of the night, where no one could see them. Where Gavin would kiss back. He imagined it so many times that he could describe what Gavin’s lips felt like. Unpleasantly dry, but God, he would give up everything to kiss them.

They were too different. Gavin saw something he wanted-or rather, wanted him- and he’s willing to travel out of the country to get it.

Dan has been face to face with the one single thing he’s wanted for years.

He’s willing to travel out of the country to avoid it.

[peckhampeculiar]

Nunhead Nick

Words Seamus Hasson; Photo Lima Charlie

In a classic case of the chicken and egg scenario it’s uncertain whether the Old Nun’s Head was named after the area or if it is in fact the other way around. While historians can argue about which came first, there’s no debating the charm and elegance of this local boozer which has a history dating back to the 17th century.

Although the original pub that stood on the site has long-since been replaced; the present Tudor-style bar was built around 1934. Inside, its classic wood panelling and comfy snugs have offered refuge to generations of local residents.

The current custodian of this much-loved Nunhead establishment, Nick McNeill has been at the helm for the past six years. It’s a role he clearly relishes. “I always describe my job as basically inviting the general public to come to my house and have a good time,” Nick tells me.  

“It’s my job to show them a good time, whether it’s through the selling of really nice drinks, really nice food, the entertainment we do or just the general atmosphere and the staff. You know, I want people to come to my house and have a good time and there’s genuine job satisfaction in that.”

I arrive at the Old Nun’s Head on a Wednesday evening to find Nick and Ludo - his two and a half year-old Miniature Labradoodle mingling with the patrons. Nick’s convivial nature and laid back charm is clearly popular with locals but it’s obvious who the real star is.

“Everyone knows Ludo.” Nick says. “He’s lived here since he was a baby. The minute he sees a regular customer his tail starts wagging and every time someone opens a bag of pork scratchings he’s their new best friend.

“We’re a very dog friendly pub and I love having all the different dogs coming in here. And it’s nice to have our own resident dog.” Whilst I distract Nick with questions about the bars food and entertainment, Ludo takes on the role of the perfect host, attracting the attention of passing customers.

His residence in the bar (he lives upstairs with Nick, Nick’s girlfriend and the bar manager Monica) perfectly sums up the establishments sense of fun and irreverence. The bar’s function room hosts a number of regular events including comedy nights, drag queens and queer cabaret shows.

Later that week, Nick informs me they are getting ready for a ‘chilli karaoke competition.’ “Basically you start singing the song,” he explains. “Then after 30 seconds they stop the song and you eat a whole jalapeno chilli pepper. Then you have to finish signing the song. I think it suits this place, it’s silly and we try not to take ourselves too serious.”

And what about the drag queen nights, are they traditional acts like Danny La Rue? I ask, channelling my inner David Brent. “Oh no no no no no definitely not, no,” Nick politely but firmly corrects me. “It’s much more modern, gender fluid, non-binary, arty. Some of it’s political; some of it’s just fun. There’s some stand up, some of it is just dancing and lip syncing. There’s also some quite poignant poetic stuff.

“There aren’t many places in South East London where you can see drag queens and drag kings and stuff like that. We do it because we like it and because it’s fun, not because we’re trying to send any particular message or capture a certain market.”

Comedy nights at the Old Nun’s Head are run by piñata and are described as ‘DIY comedy at its very best.’ “It’s a really varied off the wall comedy show with a real mixture of stuff going on,” Nick says. “It’s not just here’s a bloke with a microphone telling jokes.

“You can go and see that in 100 places and that doesn’t excite me. What excites me is the kind of event where you walk through the door and you’re not quite sure what you’re going to see. We don’t want to be predictable.”

Predictability isn’t something The Old Nun’s Head could be accused of when it comes to entertainment. The bar also hosts drag bingo once a month and even the weekly quiz night is hosted by a stand-up comedian.

On top of all this the confederation of lady arm wrestlers hold events at the bar three or four times a year. “That’s another quite high concept comedy slash sports entertainment show.” Nick laughs.

The bars culture of fun and flippancy extends to their social media accounts which are full of satire and clever memes. When Donald Trump was elected president they offered a free pint and a hug to distraught American customers who showed up with their passport. Then there’s the rather bizarre preoccupation with Ryan Gosling.

As well as being the pubs Wi-Fi password, the website proudly states ‘The Ryan Gosling of Pubs.’ “The guy who hosts the quiz nights used to work here,” Nick explains, “and every time the phone would ring he would answer and say something really stupid.

“One of his favourites was ‘hello, the Old Nun’s Head, the Ryan Gosling of pubs.’ “I’m not sure of the exact thinking behind it but it just sort of stuck.” No doubt if Gosling ever turned up at The Old Nun’s Head, he would be made feel very welcome (if a little freaked out).

Not everyone however buys into the pubs ethos and one slightly uncharitable reviewer on Trip Adviser called them “smug, self-satisfied hipster scum.” “I was like whoa,” Nick says elaborately. “I mean our most regular customer is a guy called Eddie who sits at that bar stool over there. He’s a local legend, everyone knows Eddie, he’s the elite hipster, he’s in his 70s and drinks Kronenberg.”

Nick says that that they’re very passionate about the choice of beers and that they rotate, particularly local breweries as much as possible. Just don’t mention the F word (Fosters) or the C word (Carlsberg) or indeed the S word (Stella).

“We do sell some of the more mainstream stuff as well. I don’t like it if you go into a pub and everything is just exclusive crafty. You know, we’re a pub for everyone so yeah you can get a pint of Kronenberg or a pint of Guinness,” Nick explains.

Food at the Old Nun’s Head is provided by a number of outside caterers who show up on different nights. While I’m there it’s the turn of the hugely popular Garden of Edun, famous for their authentic Nigerian street food. (During our interview pub regular and Nigerian food enthusiast, Vijay turns up for his weekly take-away).

On Monday and Tuesday nights, it’s the turn of Burger Bear who also provide their award winning burgers on Saturdays. Tiger Bites who make Bao buns with fried chicken and vegan fried ‘chick’n’ are currently filling in on Thursday and Friday nights and on Sunday’s traditional roasts are served from the kitchen. It’s fair to say that Old Nun Head’s menu is a cut above your typical hackneyed pub grub. “I always quote that it’s been a good five years since a portion of fish and chips were sold in here,” Nick tells me.

Nick’s passion for the pub and the area is infectious. He first came to South East London 15 years ago when he was a student at Camberwell Art College and has worked in and managed a number of local bars since.

Being in the trade he has kept his finger on the pulse when it comes to change. “When I was living with art students in Camberwell the idea of going into Peckham back then for any reason was crazy. I think Bar Story was the one cool place in Peckham and that was it.

“How it’s changed in those years is amazing. I like Nunhead because we’re that one step away from Peckham. There’s a lot happening in Peckham, It’s a little bit slower in Nunhead and that suits me.”

“What I love most about it is the long running family businesses that have been here for decades. I’m glad that we’ve still got some of that old Nunhead mixed in with the new bars and shops.” When it comes to the pub, Nick is a big advocate of serving the local community.

He considers the staff to be his extended family and when he was told that our photographers were coming out to take his picture he insisted that everyone would be in it – including Ludo of course.

“We try not to be a destination pub,” Nick says. “This is a pub for Nunhead or people who live in and near Nunhead. We want this to be a local pub to be really proud of. My main job isn’t to get people from across the river to come here; I want the people of Nunhead to adore this pub as much as I do.

“We’re not really trying to be cool here, there are cooler pubs in Peckham we’re just about having fun really.”

[contingent-affirmation-blog1]

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