#I find it very ironic that I wrote this as a reader insert piece and yet while I like Carla

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

Throat Full of Flowers - Hanahaki Shin One-shot

An angst-filled one-shot centered on the concept of Hanahaki disease, featuring the Tsukinami brothers. It’s a reader insert piece and the reader is in a position similar to Yui’s. The flower petals involved in this are from Protea flowers, from this set of headcanons.

Shin wasn’t entirely sure exactly when he’d stopped viewing you as no more than a tool to restore his bloodline. When they’d first taken you from the Sakamaki brothers, he’d been mildly appalled that you were the hope he and his brother sought. Just some unremarkable human.

And yet, as the months passed, at some point that image faded and rather than just being a thing to use in an effort to try and one up his brother, you’d become your own person in his mind. Shin couldn’t say exactly what it was about you. Maybe it was that you took whatever he threw at you without ever really losing it. You’d even laughed a couple of times, and the sound of it made Shin catch his breath a little.

Even Carla seemed to have softened around you, which in and of itself, was surprising. In all of their years together, Shin had never before seen the look in his brother’s eyes when he spoke to you.

Around the time Shin noticed this, he started to feel a light scratching in the back of his throat. Not anything worthy of concern, just a faint feeling of irritation that would come and go intermittently.

Then one day, he’d seen you and Carla walking together in the garden outside Banmaden. You’d been in the middle of saying something when you tripped over an errant branch, but before you could hit the ground, the founder king had slipped an arm around your waist and held you upright. You’d turned to look at him with a blush on your cheeks and there was something in your expression that Shin hadn’t seen before.

That night the cough had started, and the scratching in his throat grew to a burning flame. Shin had feared the worst then. He’d seen these symptoms often enough as Endzeit ate away at the bodies of his people. But he couldn’t understand how he had been infected. Carla had told him that the sickness could only be spread through blood, and he’d made sure he hadn’t come into contact with any of the infected fluid.  

A couple of days later, he’d started coughing, only to feel something rising up the back of his throat. Shin retched and as he saw the contents of the lump that had been clogging up his airway flutter to the ground, he couldn’t believe his eyes. What looked like pink and white flower petals, flecked with blood, lay in an unceremonious heap on his bedroom floor. Sure enough, a light floral scent drifted through the room, mixed with the iron tang of blood. He’d picked up one of the fragments and knew then that he couldn’t be mistaken. It didn’t resemble anything from any sort of plant he’d seen, but the texture and scent were unmistakable.

He’d coughed up a bunch of flower petals.

Not once had he seen or heard tell of anyone infected with Endzeit having flora appear in the back of their throat. Shin couldn’t bring himself to ask Carla; couldn’t admit that he’d been afflicted by some strange sickness to the person he wanted to acknowledge his strength.

Time passed and the coughing worsened. The scent of blood and flowers seemed to follow him wherever he went, and it was an effort to keep anyone from finding the petals that would spew from his lips. Shin started avoiding you all together; it was too hard to be around you when at any moment his weakness could be revealed.

At first you’d still tried to seek him out, apologizing for any wrong you thought might have led to the younger founder distancing himself from you. But each time Shin would yell and berate you, hoping it would be enough to keep you away. And eventually, you’d stopped trying to talk to him. He didn’t realize how much your absence would affect him until the only time he saw you was a passing glance in your direction whenever he reported to his brother. You only ever seemed to be by Carla’s side at that point, but Shin could only focus on trying to find a way to cure himself.  He’d deal with whatever damage had been done to your relationship after that.

One day, he’d overheard you telling his brother that you’d learned Karlheinz kept a large amount of notes on research relating to varying matters in the demon world while you stayed with the Sakamakis.

Just the name of the late vampire king made Shin want to grind his teeth but that kernel of information gave him a slight bit of hope. Was it possible that the vampire had also kept notes on the illness that now affected Shin? He hadn’t stopped to consider it for too long. There had to be something somewhere that could help him.

And so Shin had broken into the vampire king’s old residence, relieved that the seals that had once kept him out seemed to have died with their source. After tearing through several rooms, he unearthed a stack of dusty research papers, and started flicking through them. Most were on things he’d never heard of and some were little more than bare-bone notes scribbled in thick black ink.

Then he found something that made his blood turn to ice in his veins. An entry titled ‘Hanahaki disease’ which described his symptoms perfectly. But it was the listed cause that sent him reeling, for according to this research, only someone suffering from unrequited love would be afflicted with the illness and even then it was rare. For some reason your face flashed through his mind at the words but he shut those thoughts down before they could go anywhere.

He was a founder, the next in line to the throne. Tsukinami Shin would not be brought to his knees by something as stupid as unrequited love. 

Although he had half a mind to toss the damn papers into the fire, Shin had taken them with him when he left. Even if they seemed to be full of crap, he might be able to gleam something useful from them at a later date.

When he returned to Bandmaden, he’d found you with a beaming smile and a shiny engagement ring on your finger. It was all he could do not retch when you told him that Carla had proposed to you. He’d barely slept due to the coughing fits that racked his body afterwards. White and soft pink petals spilling forth with every spluttering cough. But Shin still couldn’t acknowledge the cause. He couldn’t accept that he was in love with his brother’s fiance, the person he’d shut out due to this damn affliction in the first place.

The disease progressed as the months passed. The fits grew more regular and the scratching at the back of his throat was ever-present. But it was only on your and Carla’s wedding night, where Shin spent several hours bent over the toilet bowl, hacking up not just petals but chunks of whole flowers, splattered with his own blood, that he realized he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He was in love with you. And he was suffering for it.

The books he’d found had mentioned that the only way for a demon to be cured of the disease was for their love to be reciprocated, but surely there had to be another way. If he could just stop loving you then maybe it would go away on its own. And so Shin tried to find every reason to fall out of love with you. He noted your every fault, the dumb things he’d seen you do, the way you looked at his brother but wouldn’t look at him. It still wasn’t enough.

All he could do was hide the symptoms and hope that neither you, nor Carla noticed.  

And now with his fingers gripping the sides of the toilet seat, Shin shook as another coughing fit took hold. His throat burned while countless flower petals worked their way up from some infected part of his lungs to his mouth, only to be spewed out. Sharp white and pink petals flecked with blood tumbled into the water, occasionally dispersed as a larger clump of a flower would fall from his lips.

“Shin!” An all too familiar voice exclaimed from behind him. Shit, he must have been in such a hurry that he forgot to lock the bathroom door.

Glancing up, he could see you stood in the doorway, your features twisted in panic. Turning his head slightly, Shin tried to force enough air into his lungs to be able to speak, to order you to leave before you discovered too much. However, before he could get the words out, he was retching again, clumps of petals splattered in red falling to the floor before he could stop them.

“What on Earth?” You gasped. But you didn’t hesitate before kneeling beside him, resting your hand on his back. “Shin what’s going on?”

“Get… Out…” He rasped, between coughs, but the worst of it seemed to be coming to a close.

“No, not until I find out what’s going on. When I heard you in here, I’d assumed it was Endzeit but…” your eyes drifted to the contents of the toilet. “These look like flower petals. Carla’s never shown a symptom like this.” Shin winced at the mention of his brother, gaze falling to the gleaming golden band on your finger.

“It’s none of your business,” he replied, voice hoarse though the spasms appeared to finally to be fading from his body.

“Like hell it’s none of my business, I’m not just going to leave you here alone after witnessing that.” Looking at him with an assessing weight, you spoke again, a little more softly. “How long has this been going on for?”

Shin wished he had enough strength to force you out of the room but a tremble still lurked in his limbs and he didn’t trust that any exertion wouldn’t end in a another coughing fit. He hated that you could see him in this state, hated the concern in your eyes and hated the way your touch made him feel.

“Long enough that it’s a pain in the ass,” he said, trying to shrug off your hand. You removed it from his back, only to place in on his knee, as you settled yourself closer to him.

“That’s really not an answer, you know? Shin, please don’t shut me out completely. I want to help you, don’t take it as some sort of insult. I know you’re capable of handling yourself but I don’t want you to suffer on your own. Do you know what the cause of-” you waved your hand vaguely in the direction of the blood specked flowers, “-this is?”

“The cause, huh?” Finally Shin found the strength to lift his single golden eye to yours. Even now, some part of his brain noticed the way the light caught in your hair and sent the strands shimmering. And with your attention focused completely on him, you were so tempting and yet still so completely out of reach. Some part of him fractured as he looked at you, the thing he so desperately wanted but could never have. Not with that wedding band sitting on your finger.

You’d chosen his brother, just like everyone else. And now that he was kneeling on the floor pathetically in front of you, Shin wondered why he’d ever thought you might choose him. Even in sickness, Carla at least still had his dignity. “Quit acting so concerned! You’re my brother’s now; this has nothing to do with you.”

“Please Shin,” you begged again.

“Stop it! Stop looking at me like that!”

“I just want to help you. Why won’t you let me?”

“Because this is your fault! If it weren’t for you, this never would have happened!” He yelled.

“My fault? What do you…” You trailed off, trying to think of anything you could possibly have done to cause this.

“Hah, I guess there’s no use in keeping it secret any longer. This,” he said, seizing the petals that had fallen on the floor in his hand. “Is due to something called hanahaki disease. Apparently it’s rare and affects both demons and humans, but with humans it’s eventually fatal. With demons on the other hand, it just leaves us perpetually suffering.” He crushed the blossoms in his hand, as though he could strike at the illness itself through the action.

“Hanahaki disease? I thought that was just a myth… But isn’t it supposed to be caused by a one-sided love?”

“Hahahaha,” the laugh was a broken, jarring sound. “So you know that much, huh? Well then, if you’re that desperate to help, why don’t you put it together on your own?”

You paused, thinking back over your conversation before your eyes suddenly widened in shock.

“No…” you said softly, looking down. “That can’t… No…”

“So you’ve figured it out, have you? What’s the matter?” Shin leaned over you. “Suddenly not so keen to help?”

“Shin you don’t…” Taking a deep breath, you raised your head. “It’s not that I don’t care about you Shin but Carla is… I gave my heart to him and there’s no going back on it now.”

“So that’s it, is it?”

“There must be some other way, something we can do.” You would never want anyone to suffer like this, especially because of you. And you cared for Shin, you really did but… it just wasn’t love.

“There isn’t.” His voice was cold. “In humans, they can do an operation sometimes, to remove the infection but for some reason it doesn’t work in demons. The only way is for their love to stop being one-sided.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, vision blurring as tears started to well up in your eyes.

“Stop it!” He growled. “Stop looking at me with such damn pity!”

But you couldn’t stop. Even though realistically, you had no control over it, you still felt partially responsible. But you couldn’t give Shin what he needed.

“Damn it!” Shin yelled, shoving you to the floor. “If you care this much then it shouldn’t be one-sided, right?! Don’t act like this means so much to you when I can still feel the infection rotting away my body!”

“But you’re… You are important to me Shin, I just… It’s not enough. I want to help you but I don’t think I can.”

“You want to help me? Fine, maybe if I just take you then the disease will be satisfied. I told you to get out of here earlier but you didn’t take the chance, so you can’t blame me entirely for what’s about to happen.” Without giving you a chance to respond, Shin pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was hard and desperate. You could feel the weight of the wedding band on your finger and tried to push him off of you but to no avail. Shin nipped at your bottom lip, just breaking the skin with his fangs, making you gasp in pain. He took the chance to force his tongue into your mouth, and the iron tang of blood coated your tongue.

“Mrhm!” You let out a weak sound as you tried to shove him off of you once more. This time he yielded, but he stayed leaning over you. Too breathless to speak, you simply lay panting on the floor.

“Hah, this isn’t enough,” He said, running his hand up your leg. “You said you wanted to help, so you’ll let me do it right?”

“No Shin, this isn’t right, please-“ He sealed your mouth with his own once more, crushing your body with his. The hand on your leg dipped under the material of your clothes, until it reached the rim of your underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, you ripped your head to the side and yelled. “Carla, please help me!”

The words were enough to make Shin stop. “I see, so even now, you’re just thinking of him aren’t you? Why,” his voice cracked. “Why can I never obtain what I want?” He stayed leaning over you for a moment before standing. “Go.”

You were too stunned to move, your body lighter and yet colder now that he’d stepped away.

“I told you to get out! Run back to your beloved husband, or else I’m going to finish what I started and I won’t stop next time.”

Slowly getting to your feet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “I really am sorry Shin,” was all you could say before you fled from the room.

The male stared down at the flower petals, stained a dull red-brown by the now dried blood. He couldn’t go on like this, live in this sort of disgrace, lusting after his brother’s wife. No, this had to end.

You couldn’t quite bring yourself to tell Carla what had happened. Once you were sure Shin was gone, you’d returned to the bathroom and found all evidence of flower petals gone. The only proof that the entire thing hadn’t been a dream was a small reddish smear on the floor, and your own bruised lips.

Your husband had been meeting with some high up member of the Adler clan and so was none the wiser to the commotion. Wearing your usual smile, you’d greeted him as you normally would. You weren’t sure how you’d handle seeing Shin again, but you told yourself you’d research the disease and find some way to help the man you probably would have fallen for had it not been for Carla. There had to be some other way, you couldn’t accept the alternative.

It was only when Shin didn’t appear after Carla sent a familiar to summon him that you started to worry. No matter what may have happened, Shin had never ignored a summons from his brother and a small search only yielded that he was no longer in Banmaden. Even so, you couldn’t tell Carla the truth when he asked you if you knew anything. In spite of what he had done, the fact remained that it was not your secret to tell. It wasn’t hard to see why Shin had tried so hard to keep it hidden from Carla. Fortunately, the founder king seemed to believe you and sent several familiars to scour the land for his wayward brother.

They returned several hours later and your blood ran cold as they entered the room, with no sign of Shin behind them. A terrible twisting feeling filled your gut and although you couldn’t understand them yourself, you knew whatever news they brought was nothing good as you watched Carla’s face fall. He was a difficult man to read, but for once it was not hard to recognize the expression in his eyes as he turned to you.

In that moment you knew what he was going to say before he spoke, and silently begged that he wouldn’t speak; wouldn’t reveal the terrible truth you could feel building.

“Shin attacked the Vibora clan without provocation and was caught. They…” He took a breath to steady himself. “They found retribution through his death. Shin, why would you…” Carla trailed off, his mind travelling to a place that you couldn’t reach.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, not as the weight of the words hit you. Shin was dead. And you knew exactly why he’d done something so reckless, something so likely to get him killed. You couldn’t breathe. It felt as though you were choking and no air would enter your lungs. Almost as though your throat had been filled with flowers.

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Can you please tell the moment when you realized that hinny is endgame? AND when did you fall in love with them individually and as couple?

I wish so much I could tell you! Unfortunately, I saw the movies before reading the books but I'll tell you my history with these two characters and this ship.

I'm part of the old side of GenZ so during my years of elementary school the movies were still coming out, a lot of my friends watched them but for various reasons I never did. When I was fourteen I decided to remedy to that, mainly because it felt like I was missing out on a too fundamental piece of pop culture. I think this is relevant because I was older than a lot of people were when first introduced to HP so I had a better understanding of story structures and characters. Also by that age, I had already published a couple of short stories and I was writing a book, so you know, I knew my way around creative writing (I'd like to specify that English is not my first language so do not judge my writing on what I post here XD).

When I first saw the movies, the couple I got into was Ron and Hermione, they were pretty obvious from the very first movie, and their dynamic was fun.

For Harry and Ginny, I had an inkling with CoS because otherwise there wouldn't have been any reason structurally-wise for Ginny to have a crush on Harry, though the movie is way less obvious about it. In the books, only an idiot after reading CoS wouldn't have at least a strong suspicion that they eventually get together.

But then Ginny kind of disappeared and I confess I forgot about her. By the time I watched HBP (I watched all the movies in like two weeks), I just assumed Harry wouldn't get with anyone which honestly was fine. That Cho wasn't going to be an endgame love interest was quite obvious. Imagine my surprise when hinny came out. I think I said something along the lines of "why is this happening?". In the movies, it really came out of nowhere. It's not like I hated it, or I wanted to create a hate blog for the ship, it just didn't make sense. I would have been perfectly fine with Harry being alone. Obviously, Harry not ending the story by finding the love of his life, married with children, in the books would make no sense and completely go against both the structure and the themes of the story, but movie!Harry is a different character. Also, I didn't like Ginny at all, which is quite ironic now obviously.

So, I had watched the movies. I liked the story and it was an interesting world, but there were a lot of things that didn't make sense even plot-wise. This brought me to start watching a series of videos by an Italian YouTuber who explained pretty well the differences between the movies and the books. The funny part is that I considered him like an HP genius for a couple of years but now I know a lot more than him, anyway... That was when I discovered how much cooler the books were and especially the HarryxGinny pairing, I was completely fascinated, they were one of the main reasons why I dived into the books.

Reading the books was not only what sealed for me the ship HarryxGinny but also their individual characters. A lot of people who have only watched the movies love Harry but I don't understand why. He was reduced to an average main character without an actual personality, basically a shell for self-inserts. If he were a girl I can assure you he would be a lot less popular.

Maybe because I'm a writer myself, but one of the reasons why I always loved this pairing, besides the fact that they are perfect for each other and I love their individual personalities, is the writing technique used to write them into the story. JKR true passion is not fantasy literature, it's crime literature. And she wrote Harry and Ginny like a crime story. The clues are everywhere in the books and yet so easy to overlook for the average reader, you think you got it but then there's the whole Cho thing that diverts your attention, and then boom! The masterpiece, the criminal is captured, Harry realises, it was Ginny all along.

Again, if you are someone familiar with story structures or simply an attentive reader it was obvious from the start, the simple fact that the main family of the story has seven children, and only one is a girl and she's just a year younger than Harry should tip you off. But still, a very interesting technique for a love story.

In terms of fanfictions, I always loved the Potters. Let them be Harry and Ginny or James and Lily. The AUs where there are all four of them are my happy place on earth. For a lot of years, I read more jily simply because it was an interesting intellectual exercise trying to imagine their story from the details left in the books, I already knew Harry and Ginny's one. But the marauders' fandom really disappointed me in the last few years so I shifted full hinny which has the very relevant advantage of making me analyze the actual books and not work on mainly just speculation.

[alicemitch09writes]

first love

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x reader

summary: You never forget your first love.

author’s notes: This is what prompted the many angst fics to come in my repertoire. I’ll just to slowly transfer some of my one-shots that are reader inserts here on tumblr.

twenty one pilot’s cover of ‘can’t help falling in love’ really helped me in the writing of this fic. It’s a favorite of mine I keep going back to when writing fics. Reader is a musician, who plays the ukulele and violin and at the time when I wrote this (back in 2017), I was learning to play the uke, mostly for fun.

also available on ao3.

disclaimer: i own NOTHING but the plot.

Wise men say, only fools rush in

But I can't help, falling in love with you

 They moved to Tokyo when she was 8.

And at a young age, she was pretty much a timid and shy girl, always hiding behind her parents whenever in the presence of new people, especially when she was being introduced. She wasn't very good with socializing, always wary and scared that she'd make a horrible impression.  And of people, in general. People were generally scary, especially those she was unfamiliar with. She found solace in music, due to her father's influence, who was a music instructor at a university. "When words fail, music speaks." He'd tell her as they played 'Heart and Soul' together on the piano, her mother taking a video of them from the side. And a little while later, by some miracle, she made friends with the local kids – Tetsurou and Kenma. The two were an odd pair, given Tetsurou's loud and mischievous demeanor being a total contrast to Kenma's quiet and well-behaved and aloofness. Still, they were the best friends she could ever have.

 Years passed, and the three were inseparable.

Over time, the two proved to be more trouble than they were worth – Tetsurou, with his never-ending schemes and provocation abilities, and Kenma, with his indifference to the world so long as he was playing his games.

Nothing's changed much of her, other than her ability to keep the dynamic duo grounded. Also, she had her flair for music. Still, she was terribly shy. Though she has a voice, she chose to stick to the background, wanting to be out of the limelight.

Tetsurou would scold her, saying that it was a waste because she had a good singing voice. In which, would make her blush. Kenma would say the same thing even without looking up from his game console. But Tetsurou's words resounded, her heart beating like a drum.

    Shall I stay, would it be a sin?

If I can't help, falling in love with you

   It was the clichest thing to happen – she fell in love with her childhood friend.

She fell for Tetsurou.

For all his cockiness, his mischievousness, his peculiar affinity with cats (ironic that they attended Nekoma), and his atrocious bed hair – she loved it all.

Of course, she'd never tell him.

She doesn't have the heart to.

Neither will she tell Kenma, being the perceptive boy he was.

Plus, she'd have to go against a throng of his admirers (who made up of about half of the female population, by the way). There was no way she had a chance. And besides, who was she to him but his ever dependable, timid and adorable best friend?

When he bought her a ukulele on her 16th birthday – he knew she had wanted to try to play it for the longest time, she knew that it was simply out of friendship.

For a while, she became the volleyball team's manager. And for a while, she was able to play it cool with her feelings. This was okay, she thought, its better like this.

"This is my best friend, (Last Name) (Name)." he says, wrapping his arms around her neck as he hugged her from behind, introducing her to two players from Fukurodani.

The shorter of the two – Akaashi Keiji, smiles. "Nice to meet you, (Last name)-san."

"Oh! She's so cute!" says the loud boy – Bokuto Koutarou. "Are you sure she's not your girlfriend?"

Tetsurou laughed, chin digging into her head. "I've known her forever, that'll be weird."

"Kuroo, you're hugging her too tight." Kenma says with a frown.

Best friend.

That's all she'll ever be to him.

    Like a river flows, surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes, this love was meant to be

   It was rare to find Tetsurou at his lowest since he was usually contented with whatever happened. But they lost, unable to secure a spot at nationals.

So when she found him all by himself at the gym, she knew he needed to be cheered up.

Taking her ukulele from her bag, she started playing. Tetsurou looked up just as she started singing. "You with the sad eyes don't be discouraged, oh I realize" she kneeled in front of him, watching him with careful eyes. "It's hard to take courage, in a world full of people; you can lose sight of it all, the darkness inside you, can make you feel so small."

She continued singing to him, feeling her heart beat faster with every line. It was so hard seeing this down, it was so unlike him. He rested his head on his folded arms, eyes closed as she sang. He always loved hearing her sing.

"And I see your true colors shining through," she wished her words reached him. "I see your true colors, and that's why I love you."

For a moment, she choked up. Not intending to say those words out loud, but they were part of the song, and the way she sang it with so much emotion that the look Tetsurou was giving her made her nervous. His golden eyes stared deep into her (eye color) – filled with so much emotion, but she focused on confusion, probably at why she had stopped.

Regaining her composure, she continued. "So don't be afraid to let them show, your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow."

Tetsurou cracked a smile, reaching out to ruffle her hair playfully. "When did you get so cheesy?"

"And when did you become this uncool?" she teased back, slapping his hand away. "Are you feeling better now?"

Sighing, he leaned his back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "A little, but thanks for coming after me."

"It's not the end of the world," she tells him kindly. "and after all, there's next year. Right, captain?"

The look on his face was priceless – clearly not expecting that. But their senpai had already decided, Kai and Morisuke were on it too, as was Coach Nekomata – before it broke into a grin.

His grin was the biggest she's ever seen.

     Take my hand; take my whole life, too

'Cause I can't help, falling in love with you

  Tetsurou got mad at her, saying painful words to her face.

Furiously, he turned to face her. She took a step back in surprise, clutching her ukulele to her chest. Then her instrument slipped from her hand, landing on the ground with a loud crack. The words coming out from his mouth were hard to bear, and she could just stand there taking it all in.

He didn't mean it really, but the stress and frustrations were just getting to him. She knew that.

"You know nothing. I never want to see your face again." He seethed.

When all was said and done, he up and left.

It felt as though the life was sucked out of her. She couldn't feel anything, she felt too numb to move. It only came as a surprise that she was still there when she found herself sitting on the ground, rocks digging into her skin.

Picking up her ukulele from the ground, she was surprised to find that it was still in one piece. Except for the scratches on the surface, and crack on the rim of the saddle boards. Funny, they seemed like an allegory.

Despite it all, the pain in her heart and Tetsurou's harsh treatment towards her, she found herself smiling. Hot tears streamed down her face, teeth digging unto her lower lip as if to keep her sobs in.

But the pain of it all was too much, she was only human.

Hugging her instrument to her chest, she allowed herself to cry, sobbing loudly, body shaking violently as her heart broke into smithereens.

    She heard that they had made it to the semi-finals, being one of the top four schools, which shouldn't be a surprise. Actually, it was secondhand information from Kenma. Right after what happened with Tetsurou, she decided to cut ties with anything associated with him, which was basically everything – the volleyball club, Kenma.

It was something she had to – no, something she wanted to do.

No matter how much it killed her.

           "Hey, let's make a little bet. If I win, you go out on a date with me."

"And if I win?"

"You won't ever see me again."

          Gentle strums silenced out the lull machines, the dripping of liquids. Faint scents of flowers and fruits hid the overly sanitized room, with walls too white and dull.

"But I can't help," her voice was quiet, low, eyes transfixed to her fingers on each string on her ukulele. "falling in love," a lone tear slips down her face, though a smile graced her lips. "with you."

In front of her, the television displayed the live coverage of the nationals - Nekoma won against Fukorodani, and then lost to Karasuno.

She smiled, hugging her ukulele as tears slipped freely.

The memory of the bet they made when they were younger came to mind, making her smile. That was such a long time ago, Tetsurou probably forgot all about that just as he forgot all about her.

"Don't worry, you won."

Now you won't ever see me again.

          He was surprised when they came back to school, she wasn't there. She was the first person he looked for since she was absent during the whole finals match. But she wasn't anywhere to be found – not in the library, the music room, the club room.

He had a promise to keep, and an apology to make up.

So it came as a surprise to him when his classmates' expressions turned grim at the mention of her name. Some had begun to cry, some looked away, nothing was making sense.

But one word was clear to him – cancer.

He turned to his best friend, who met his gaze. For the first time in his life, he saw anger in those usually stoic eyes. He knew then that he knew, he always knew. There was also pain, pain for his best friend's condition. And for (Name)'s sake, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

Without a word, he ran, as fast as he can, ignoring the calls from his classmates, teachers, teammates. He had to get to her. He had to apologize; he didn't mean what he said. He wanted to see her, hold her, tell her he was stupid and an idiot-

           But he was already too late.

[mila-dans]

Symphony of Sadness & Chorus of Pain

Hi, everyone! This is most definitely a different change of pace and tone when compared to my normal writing. I wrote this one for me and whoever else needs it. This 7000 word piece of work deals with some very real and dark issues in a very supernatural way. Its got depression, attempted suicide, and a whole lot of self deprecation. This is a reader insert so if you dare read this, be warned that it is very dark. It does have what I would call a happy ending though. 

Please realize that if you ever find yourself suffering from types of issues like this, know that you are not alone. Seek help. You have friends around you. I am here for you if you need it. I’m not the strongest but I will share my strength with you. 

This was written for me to read when I am feeling down and I hope the same can go for you. :)

It wasn’t okay. You were not okay. This was it. This was the end. Your end. The grand finale of your life. You were going to die all alone. Suffer alone. The most ironic thing is the fact that no one knows. No one knows how you feel. You can’t even describe the feeling if you could. The feeling of destruction. The last straw falling. The final structure crumpling right before you. This was the end of your life. Now, it is time for you to die.

_____________________

Before the end…

You and the Winchester brothers had just taken down a couple of witches who were wreaking havoc on any man who caused them any sort of suffering. And apparently, a lot of men caused them pain. As opposed to most regular hunts, you were the lead on this one. Couldn’t have the boys ending up hexed like the other men who you all found dead in the basement. 

“Gruesome,” Dean described it as the three of you got back into the Impala. “Burn witch, burn.” Dean started the ignition as you all watched in awe as the house went up in flames. It was the best way to put an end to, well, all of it. 

“You alright, Y/n?” Sam asked, turning around in the seat to face you. He was referring to when you got knocked out by the witch. You hadn’t thought anything about it. It wasn’t a fatal blow. All that happened is that when you confronted the witches while the boys were investigating other parts of the house, they simply blasted you and caused you to become unconscious. Lucky you, you happened to awake right as the fighting started.

“I’m fine,” you said with a smile.

“You sure?” Dean furthered. “Like no love spell or webbed feet or anything like that?” You chuckled a  bit.

“No.” You smiled. “No love spell, no webbed feet, no to anything other than a headache.” Sam smirked at you as he turned back around, grabbing a bottle of aspirin from the glovebox and throwing it in your hands. “Thank you,” you said as you shook the bottle and popped a tablet in your mouth. 

They were most definitely not fast acting. Your head felt as if a bulldozer, you know, dozed it. Funny. It didn’t hurt in any one place specifically. It just hurt all over. Your mind felt fried too. You weren’t going to worry the boys or anything though by telling them how you really felt. 

They had enough going on. It always seemed to be some boss battle that was bigger and more bad than the last. The pressure of saving the world was always on them. When was it going to end? When were you all going to die by some vamp or ghoul or in Dean’s case, bacon? The work never stopped. It never ceased. It always seemed to be a never ending cycle of pain, torture, death, repeat. 

You were set aback by your more angsty and depressing thoughts. You usually pushed those away when you were with the boys. It had been a while since you let anything slip out of your mind vault like that. Truth is, you all had your demons. Sam and Dean really had theirs though. Even Cas. To think that yours were even as close to being as bad as theirs was just one big laughing matter. You had never talked about your small and miniscule problems with them.

What was the point? Sure you suffered from bad things but it couldn’t even pale in comparison when it came to your family’s. They had it so much worse than you. Dean was in hell. Literal hell. He suffered for thirty years and then tortured people for ten. That was horrible. The weight of the burdens that he carried was unbearable. Trying to wake up in the morning was a struggle every day for him. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

You shut your eyes for a moment trying to prevent any more dark thoughts to enter your mind. You tried to focus on the rock music that was playing on the radio. It was Bob Seger, your favorite. As a way to get further from the unusual thoughts, you decided to sing along with the lyrics of “Old Time Rock and Roll.”

“Just take those old records off the shelf!” You belted out from the backseat as you reached over to turn up the volume.

“I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself!” Dean sang. The two of you smiled as you turned to the disappointed Sammy who was clearly not getting into the song.

“Today's music ain't got the same soul!” You continued to sing as you hit Sam on the shoulder making him smile just a little.

“I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” Dean followed. “Come on, Sammy!” Dean shouted as the two of you faced the reluctant Grinch. Sam rolled his eyes at the both of you.

“Don’t try to take me to the disco!” Sam sang.

“Yeah, Sammy!” Dean smiled.

“You’ll never even get me out on the floor!” Sam sang again.

“In ten minutes I’ll be late for the door!” You added. “I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

“Still like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” The three of you sang all together. “That kind of music just soothes the soul! I reminisce about the days of old. With that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

The trio of you and the brothers continued to sing all the way back to the bunker. It was amazing. It was really great to feel happy again. You hadn't in so long. You would’ve labeled it as depression but you knew that it wasn’t even worth some actual medical exam to say what’s wrong with you. It was nothing. Even if it was depression, you had no right to complain about it. You had no right to say that you needed help when countless other people needed help too. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

You tried to focus on singing with Sam and Dean but the bad thoughts you had couldn’t help but linger in the back of your mind.

This is stupid. I am stupid. I just need to go back to singing. I am with the people that I love most and I should be happy. I’m so happy. I am unbelievably happy.

You were upset that you couldn’t convince yourself with the reassurance of lies. Instead, you pushed the thoughts down. Deep, deep down. You just continued to sing with a false smile laced on your face, hoping to feel something. Hoping to feel happy. Hoping to feel anything.

________________

Do I matter? Am I worth the trouble of being here? Sam, Dean, and Castiel say that they love me but, do they really? Do they care or am I just a burden to them? Cas has had to take on so much in his life. You were for sure just some other person that he thought he’d have to protect. Have to save. He cared for the boys. He always has. He cared for humanity. Could they even classify you as human? You’ve done countless bad things. You’ve hurt your loved ones. Sure the boys were the best examples of people who make mistakes but they are heroes. They didn’t need to apologize. They saved the world. You might’ve helped but it didn’t matter. They were the faces, the faces wearing the capes with a symbol of hope plastered across their chest. You weren’t a sidekick. You weren’t even a part of the team.

“Hey! Y/n?” Sam called. “Are you alright?” You looked up to Sam as you got snapped out of your daze. You didn’t know how long you had been standing up in the kitchen with the pot of coffee in your hand. Weird.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied as you set down the pot and regained your composure. You gave Sam a reassuring smile.

“You sure you’re alright, Y/n?” You nodded at the concerned Sam. “I mean, I don’t mean to press but you’ve been seeming like something’s been bothering you the past couple months.” You turn your head and give Sam an oblivious look.

“Have I?” You question as you start to fiddle with the coffee again.

“Yeah, you have,” Sam says slowly. You feel his worried gaze on you but you try to quickly change the subject.

“What did you need me for?” You take a deep breath before you turn back around to face the young Winchester to give a half hearted smile. Sam looks at you with the obvious worry on his face but shakes it off.

“I um, I was going to go on a supply run. Do you want to come?” he looks at you, suspicious of how you might respond. You give him a big smile as an attempt to throw him off.

“Yeah! Of course! Just let me get my jacket,” you say as you walk past him giving a reassuring pat on the back.

___________________

“Cas!” You called as you walked past him in his room. “You need anything from the store? Me and Sam are about to head out.” 

“No, I’m fine,” he responds. “Are you okay, Y/n?”

“On food?” You question playing clueless. 

“Not on food.” Cas walks up to you as you stand still in his doorway. “I mean, are you alright in the mental sense?”

“I’m great, Cas!” You lie with a smile. “I’m better than ever. My head hurts just a little from getting knocked out earlier though. But other than that, tip top shape.” You nod your head once more as Cas looks at you with yet another concerned face.

“I could try and see what’s the problem in your head if you’d like?” Cas asks as he starts to put his hand towards your head. You take a fast step away, clearly giving him more reason for worry.

“No, no. I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine,” you clarify. You try to ignore the worrisome look that covers his face. “I’m gonna go,” you say with a smile as you walk away. “Bye!”

Stupid. He could’ve helped you. He could’ve seen what was going on in your head and tried to help take the pain away.

You tried to push away the thoughts as you continued your walk down the hallway.

If he helped, he would’ve seen it all. He would've seen the fear, the worry, the anxiety. He would’ve seen every single one of your little, measly, insignificant problems. It would be a waste of his time to sort through all your overdramatic issues. How could you even know that he wouldn’t just judge you right there on the spot or end up leaving you like the rest of them? I mean, everyone that you have opened up to has left you or worse. All your old friends stopped talking to you cold turkey just when you thought you could trust them. That was your fault though. They trusted you and needed you and even though you helped them, you couldn’t be honest. Of course they left you. Everyone always leaves you and it’s all your fault.

___________________

You sat in the car with your head leaned against the window. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They were getting worse. You kept trying to push them down like you always have but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

“Y/n!” Sam called as he lightly hit your shoulder. You turned towards him confused. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. This isn’t good.

“You can talk to me, Y/n,” Sam says. You just continue to stare down at the ground and start to feel one of your old battle wounds on your wrist.

“About what?” You ask trying to play it off, unsuccessfully.

“About whatever is bothering you!” Sam’s tone starts to rise as he gets frustrated with your playing dumb act. “We all know that something is going on with you. You don’t even have to hide it. Sometimes you don’t even try to anymore. We are worried about you, Y/n. All of us. We thought that maybe you were just down in the dumps and would ask for help if you needed it but you haven’t.

…

…

Y/n!” Sam shouts as you suddenly snap out of your daze. “Will you stop that?!” You face him with true confusion. He points at your wrist. “You’re making yourself bleed!” You look down at your wrist as you notice how you’ve completely reopened the wound causing blood to go all over your pants.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You weren’t even listening to Sam. Now look at what you’ve done!

“I’m sorry--I’m so sorry!” You mumble out as you quickly wipe the blood that has stained a spot on the seat.

“Y/n?” Sam questions with a softer tone as you look up at him with watery eyes. “Why are you sorry?”

“I--I--I just am,” you try to say. You quickly ball up all the tissues and put them in your pocket, trying to reassure yourself that it never happened. You look back up at Sam and see the concern on his face. You try to form words to change the topic at hand but fall short of excuses.

“Y/n, please,” Sam says sincerely, “Please just talk to me. Just let me in. Let Dean or--or even Cas in. Just talk to one of us. Please.” You look down at the ground again as you try to press your nails into the palm of your hands in order to distribute the pain somewhere else. “Y/n,” Sam says as he moves his hand onto yours, opening it up. “Stop it, please.”

“No!” You shout as you throw his hand to the side. “I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! You and Dean and Castiel just need to mind your own damn business! Now quit asking if I’m okay, or if I'm alright, or what’s wrong with me! Nothing is wrong, got it?!” You take a deep breath and fall back into your seat as you wipe the tears that had escaped your eyes. You can feel the tension in the car in between you and Sam as you go back to staring out the window.

You stupid idiot! You completely ruined everything! This was your chance at asking for help and you blew it! Now you’re never gonna get that chance again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Sam probably wouldn’t have even listened to you in the first place. He had been tortured by the devil. He had been to the worst part of hell. Do you think he had time to listen to you whine about your emotions? Do you think he actually even cared? He was your family. He had to ask about you. He was designated to do so. It is just him trying to be kind. As if he could ever care about you. As if anyone could ever care about you.

__________________

You slammed the door shut as you stepped out of the car. You raced inside the grocery store as Sam called out your name. You didn’t even bother to look back or respond. All you did was search for the bathroom as soon as you walked inside.

The further you made your way into the store, the worse your thoughts got. It was different though. It felt as if they weren’t just yours.

What is happening to me?! Why can’t these thoughts just go away?! Please, just go away!

You put the toilet seat lid down as you sat on it, placing your hands on your face as you started to sob. You felt so broken, so busted inside. You felt so much pain. So much emotion. You just wanted it to end. You just wanted it to stop.

“Honey?” A voice called from outside the shut stall door. “Are you alright?” You started to sniff as the thoughts died down just enough to understand the complete stranger who was worrying about you. You wiped the tears and opened the door.

“I’m fine, Mamn,” you said as you gave a smile to the elder lady. She smiled back at you. She seemed kind and nice. A complete stranger. You always thought that it was easier to tell a stranger secrets about yourself than someone who you knew and trusted. “Stranger’s security,” you called it.

“What’s the matter, Dear?” She asked again as her smile made you giggle a little.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” you admitted. You stood up and walked out of the stall to face her. “I just don’t know what to do.” She took your hand and immediately, you began to think the worst.

She doesn’t care about you! Don’t put your burdens on her! Don’t bother her! You are being selfish if you think for just one minute that it’s okay to open up. Think of how as soon as you admit how you feel to her, she’s just gonna make your heart break even more when you realize it’s just charity. It means nothing to her. You mean nothing to her!

“I’m sorry!” You say as you remove her hand from yours and start to head for the door. “I’m so sorry!” Once outside of the bathroom, you begin to feel completely out of sorts as you see the crowds of people staring at you as tears stream down your bright red face. “I--I…” You duck through the rows of people as you race back to the car. You open the door to the backseat and jump inside, locking yourself in as quickly as possible.

Your thoughts become so overwhelming that you are unable to follow any thread of ideas or worries. It’s all one big mess of problems and fear, as the walls in your head collapse in on itself. It was all you. It was all falling on you. You had no idea what was going on or why this was happening. You couldn't even think straight. You could only close your eyes and be engulfed into the sadness and pain.

____________________

You heard the car door open, drawing your attention away from your abundance of overwhelming thoughts. You look up to see Sam get into the car and turn to see you. You were clueless to see how much of a wreck you looked like but you didn’t have to know. The expression on his face said it all. He started to open his mouth to probably try to console or comfort you.

“No, Sam,” you said, stopping any words before they left his mouth. “Please just take me home,” you requested as you slowly turned back into facing the seat, feeling the darkness pull you closer to it.

You are worthless. You are nothing. Look at Sam. You think you have problems? Sam has spent his whole life living in fear. Living with truly overwhelming problems. He has to stay alive so that he can be there for Dean. Be there for Cas. He can’t choose to die, to give up. He doesn’t have the option. People need him. People rely on him. He has a brother and a best friend who loves him. He carries the world on his shoulders and never, ever gets a break.

You once again become caught up in your empathetic thoughts. Your mindset was in complete chaos. For some reason, you couldn’t just think about you, you thought about everyone else and all their problems. It’s as if you could feel whatever they were feeling and think whatever they had thoughts. Impossible. 

____________________

You sat on your bed as you stared at the plate of food that was set before you. You couldn’t eat. You didn’t want to eat. It’s not like you wanted to starve, it’s just, you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were hungry or if you had to eat. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

“Y/n,” Dean calls out as he opens your door and walks inside. You were out of it, again, not even noticing his knock. He takes a seat on your bed as he puts the plate of food on your nightstand. “Not eating?” He asks.

“Not hungry,” you respond. You would try to give a false smile but you are unable to do even that. He looks at you, clearly trying to read your face. You just pulled up your knees close to your body, wrapping your arms around them

“Sam told me what happened, Y/n,” Dean says. “What’s going on?” You can hear the care and concern in your voice. If anyone knew about demons it would be Dean. He was one after all.

Sure, tell Dean what’s bothering you. Have him laugh in your face when you rant and bitch about all your little problems. It’s not like he’s ever able to. He has to hide all of his problems. He has to haul them all up and lock them down, never getting to deal. He can’t deal. There is never a single second in the day that he has to relax or has to calm down. Sam always says that he can talk to him but putting his burdens on Sammy wasn’t right. They were his burdens. All his. It was up to him to carry everyone else. It was all on him. He had the weight of the world in one hand and the weight of everyone else in his other. He didn’t have time to care or worry about himself. It would be pathetic to ask for help. Childish to need someone to lean on.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts. You open your eyes as you take notice of Dean’s hand on your shoulder. You swat it away and stand up from the bed.

“Get out of here, Dean! Leave me alone!” You shout. Dean gets up quickly as you push him out the door. 

“Y/n! Whatever is goi--” You shut the door on Dean and lock it before he has a chance to finish his words.

You slump down with your back against the door, falling onto the ground. The floor was freezing against the back of your legs. You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter. You were nothing. You are nothing.

_________________

These men save the world. You save nothing. You aren’t worth saving. Most of the people that they save aren’t worth it. But you? You are at the bottom of the barrel. How you have made it this far in life is perplexing. You should be dead. 

You laid in bed as the thoughts and feelings kept you awake. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. These thoughts, they weren’t just yours. They were Sam’s thoughts. Dean’s thoughts. Cas’s thoughts. You were being clouded by their emotions. It was a mix of all of their pain and all of yours.

He rebelled against his family, against his home, and for what? So that he could watch everyone that he loved fail?

What did he do when he wasn’t in control? Who was having to clean up his trail of messes? 

It was all on him. Everything was on him. It was his fault that they died. Hasn’t it always been?

Death. It was his fault. It was all their fault. It was all your fault. Worthless. Stupid. All on him. It was all caused by you. The world would be better off without you. He meant nothing. You were nothing. Die. Die! Die! Die! Die!

“No!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” You screeched as you shattered the plate of glass on the floor, cutting your hand, causing so much more pain. You continued to yell for the thoughts to leave your head. 

“Y/n! Stop it!” Sam yelled as he kicked in your door. You struggled to breath as the dark thoughts consumed you.

Worthless. Nothing. Piece of trash. Nothing. You should be dead. 

“No!” You continued to scream. Dean tried to walk closer to you but you swatted him away. “Don’t touch me!” You screamed at the boys.

“Cas! Do something!” Dean demanded. The angel walked closer to you but you knew that if he touched you, if anyone touched you, if anyone tried to help, it was all over.

“Don’t!” You shouted as you reached for the angel blade and immediately all the hands went up in defense. Castiel backed away as you walked slowly towards the door.

“Y/n,” Sam tried to say, walking closer to you. “Please, put the weapon down.”

“You don't’ underst--shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” The thoughts continued to pound in on your head. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face or the ones that the boys had. You just continued to try and stop the thoughts, the voices, the feelings and emotions. You raced down the halls and out the door as quick as possible.

“Stop it!” You mumbled as you found a clearing behind a tree in a small wooded area behind the bunker. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. But now, now they were all yours. Just yours.

You are nothing! You are less than nothing! You deserve to die! You deserve to go to hell! It’s where you belong! You’ve done wrong, you’ve done bad! There is no saving you! There is no point! You should just die! There is no point in a maggot like you taking up space in a world that is far too good for you! Just die! You already cause so much death around you, why don’t you just end it?! Just do it. Just die! You are nothing. You are useless. You are worthless! You are unimportant! You are hated! You are stupid! Self-centered! Idiotic! You are dead!

It wasn’t okay. You were not okay. This was it. This was the end. Your end. The grand finale of your life. You were going to die all alone. Suffer alone. The most ironic thing is the fact that no one knows. No one knows how you feel. You can’t even describe the feeling if you could. The feeling of destruction. The last straw falling. The final structure crumpling right before you. This was the end of your life. Now, it is time for you to die.

You feel the emotions clouding your judgement. You see the angel blade. There is no stopping it. This was the way. The way to stop the thoughts. This was it. Your hand trembles, tears fall.

NOTHING! WORTHLESS! MEANINGLESS! STUPID! YOU ARE--

You take a deep breath and open your eyes. The angel blade falls from your hand.

“They stopped,” you whisper. The voices have all stopped. You wipe your eyes and stand. Your headache leaves. It’s all gone. You weren’t dead. You didn’t know what you were or what happened. You still feel the pain but it was just yours. It was only the pain that you’ve carried for years. The pain that you can handle. You still have tears fall down your face but it’s not as bad as it was.

You walk back to the bunker and open the door. You slowly walk down the stairs as you see Sam, Dean, and Castiel run towards you. When you make it to the last step, you give a smile their way and then collapse to the floor.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts as he rushes to your side. You just continue to smile, unable to see them through your watery eyes. Sam puts his arms underneath you as he scoops you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” Sam says as he carries your body into the infirmary. “It’s okay.” He lays you down on the bed as you just shrivel up into a little ball. You hear them talk amongst themselves but unable to make out what is said. You see your trench coated companion walk close to you as he lays his hand on your head. Sam takes a seat in a chair facing you and Dean sits by your feet on the bed. Dean places his hand on your leg, trying to comfort you and Sam takes your hand, doing the same. Castiel removes his hand from your head as you begin to close your eyes.

“Y/n,” Castiel starts to say. You can hear the shock in his tone. Whatever it was, he was lost for words. 

“What is it?” Dean asks. You shut your eyes tight as you hear the three of them walk out of the room.

You try to sit up in the bed and manage to wipe the tears from your eyes. Fully able to see, you watch the boys walk back into the room. 

“What?” You ask quietly as you see the amazed expressions on their face. Dean rushes over to you and wraps his arms around you. The second he lets go, Sam comes to your side to do the same. You feel their arms around you and feel pure joy and love for just a moment. Once the two of them go back to their positions by your side, Castiel pulls up a chair next to Sam. Worrisome thoughts fill your head again. “What’s going on? What happened?” You ask as tears stream down their faces causing you to cry from just feeling the sadness radiating off of them. “Please tell me what I did. What?”

“You--uh,” Dean starts to say as he looks at you with tears continuously falling down from his eyes. “How did you do that?” He says with an exasperated breath.

“What? What did I do?!” You question, shifting in the bed as you can’t help but be filled with concern. 

“The witch hexed you, Y/n,” Cas says. You notice the tears coming from him as well. 

“Wh--what did she hex me with? Wh--what?” You look in all the boys’ eyes as you become overwhelmed with the sight before you.

“She cursed you,” Sam pauses as he takes a breath and clears his throat, “She cursed you to feel everyone’s pain.” All of the boys look at you as if you should be dead. You realize that that is exactly what they must be thinking.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks again.

“Do what?” You ask in return. You take a deep breath and look down at your wrist to the wound. “What do you mean she cursed me to feel everyone’s pain?” You look back up to Sam in search of an answer.

“It’s what killed all those men,” Sam states.

“What do you mean?” You again ask.

“The witches,” Cas starts to explain, “They killed all those men by hexing them to feel the pain of those around them. They all died because of suicide or because of a fatal panic attack. Y/n, you got put under the same spell.”

“If--if I did,” you start to say, “Then how am I alive?” You look at the boy’s lost expressions on their faces.

“The spell wore off after twenty-four hours but, Y/n,” Cas says, concerned, “You are the only person who has ever survived it. You are the only one who has ever lived through it and made it out alive.” You think for a moment about what he just said. It made sense. All the thoughts that you were feeling weren’t just your own.

“You felt all of our pain,” Sam says.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks. You look in their eyes, realizing that even they couldn’t take their own pain most of the time. 

“You took all of our pain and felt it for yourself, Y/n,” Cas says.

“How did you do that?” Dean again asks. You laugh and smile a little.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve asked that Dean,” you say with a smile. He just looks at you in awe. “The truth is, today just felt like a really bad day. I have dealt with that pain, my pain, all my life.”

“But--but that was our pain too,” Sam says. “You felt all of our pain. You felt hell? Lucifer?” Sam asks and you nod. “And that isn’t bad to you?!”

“I always thought that my problems were nothing compared to yours, all of yours. You’ve all been through so much that I’ve always hid my problems. Today, it just felt as if those problems and feelings broke out.” You wipe the tears away from your face and muster up another smile.

“You deal with pain like that every day?” Dean asks.

“Basically.”

“Why haven’t you told us?” Castiel asks.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Sam questions.

“Because it’s my burdens, my pain, not yours. And I figured that I had already wasted my chances in asking for help,” you answer. “You all have done so much, been through so much, I have been through nothing. I am nothing. I am worthless even when being compared to your shadow.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Dean shouts. “Y/n, do you not realize that you have taken on all of our burdens, all of our fears, our pain, our emotions? You did all of that and are still here! You are the strongest person in the world! You are not worthless. You are amazing. You are beautiful and special and incredible!”

“You should never compare yourself to us,” Sam says.

“You can’t ever compare your problems to our pain,” Cas states. “There is no scale in the universe that can measure who has it worse or who has it better. Every single person has different pain tolerances, different perspectives. For you to be dealing with all of our collective pain and still think of it as a bad day, that is what I mean when I say pain is immeasurable.”

“Y/n, why on earth would you not tell us about what you’ve been dealing with?” Sam asks. You look at him and smile.

“I’ve wanted to,” you say. “I’ve wanted to for so long but I’m terrified.” You take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your face. Dean reaches up and takes your hand in his.

“Why?” Dean asks. “Why would you be afraid to tell us anything like that?”

“Because I can’t know if you’re real! I can’t know if you are just gonna be another person who says that they’re gonna be there for me then just disappear! I can’t go through that again. I’ve had my trust broken, shattered countless times that if I put myself through that again, I don’t know if I could take it.” Your voice starts to waiver as you begin to sob again. Sam scoots his chair closer to you as he wraps his arms around you. You lean your head on his shoulder as you feel Dean squeeze your hand tighter just as Sam hugs you tighter.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Sam whispers in your ear. “It’s okay.”

“But I don't want to be a burden,” you state as you close your eyes as more tears fall onto Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re not a burden,” Castiel states. “I saw and felt your feelings, Y/n. You should never feel that way about yourself.” He reaches for your other hand and grabs it in his.

You remain in the clutches of all three of them. You are with your heroes. Dean has your hand, holding it in the both of his. Castiel holds your other hand, squeezing it in the most compassionate way possible. Sam keeps you in his arms as you place all of your weight onto him and continue to bury your head into his shoulder.

“You are not worthless,” Cas says. “You are not nothing. You are not stupid. You are not idiotic. You are not self-centered.”

“You are the furthest thing from it,” Dean adds. “You are amazing. You are incredible. You are worth so much. You are worth everything.”

“You are worth saving,” Sam says. “I don’t know what I would do if you died, Y/n. You are the person who makes me happy. You make all of us happy. You can always ask for help.” Sam releases you from his hug so he can look at you. You open your eyes and see the people who keep you going. The people who inspire you to be strong, stay strong. These people are your world. They are your everything and for them to say that you are theirs, that is the best compliment that you could ever get.

“Never, ever think anything but the truth about yourself,” Dean orders.

“But the truth is,” you say, “I don’t know if I can believe you all. I have been told by so many people who I love and look up to that I am stupid, manipulative, that I am nothing. Those thoughts and feelings of self depreciation are carved into my heart. Wired into my mainframe. Every time I try to be happy, every time I try to let go, I get a setback. I fall down.”

“Y/n, those people that you say thought bad of you,” Castiel starts to say, “They didn’t love you. They don’t deserve your love. They don’t deserve any part of you.”

“It doesn’t matter what they say or what you did or who you did it to,” Dean says, “Here, right now, it is us and it is you. And I promise that we love you. We love you so much, Y/n. We love you with your burdens and all.”

“And I promise,” Sam states, “That no matter how many setbacks you have, no matter how many times you feel depressed or down, I will always be there for you. We will all be there for you.”

“If you want a shoulder to cry on,” Dean says, “I’ve got two.”

“If you need someone to listen,” Castiel explains, “I have till the end of time to listen.” You start to sniffle and smile.

“That’s our girl,” Dean says as he brushes the hair away from your face.

“And if you ever need someone to talk to,” Sam smiles, “There is nothing that I would rather do than to be here for you.”

“Hey! That rhymed,” you state with a smile and a giggle.

“Yes, yes it did,” Sam says with a laugh.

You look at your heroes. You look at your friends. You look at your family. You have countless reasons to be sad. You have such a big vocabulary of harsh words that you have been called and could call yourself but the truth is, none of them are true. You can believe that you deserved it then but under no circumstances can you believe that you deserve anything less than the absolute best now. 

“You are beautiful, Y/n.”

“You are magnificent.”

“You are giving and ask for nothing in return.”

“You are the one who saved me.”

“You are the one who shows me kindness when I need it most.”

“You are the one person who always makes me feel better.”

“You are selfless.”

“You make me laugh.”

“You are a hero.”

“You are extraordinary.”

“You are the best.”

“You always make me smile.”

“You make me feel good about myself.”

“You are the representation of good in the world.”

You are gorgeous. You are amazing. You are wonderful. You! All you! You are worth it! You are truly spectacular! You are incredible! You are perfect just as you are! You deserve to be happy! You deserve to be loved! You deserve to live the life you want! You deserve so much because you have been through so much! You deserve to get double the amount of love that you share! You deserve a crown! You deserve gold! You are too good for this world! You are a spectacle! 

You are loved.

You feel overwhelmed with joy, real, true, joy as Sam leans forward to give you a hug. Dean leans to your side and wraps his arms around you. Castiel comes from behind you and squeezes you tightly in your clutches. You were the most loved and appreciated person with three amazing people all pouring their love into you. It is exactly what you deserved and so much more.

You were going to have setbacks. You were going to have bad days. You were going to feel broken, lost. You were going to feel down. But I promise you, they are real. The people who love you are real. There are so many. Your affect on the world may seem miniscule to you but it's not. You can save the world. You make it better everyday. You may save the people who save the world. You matter. You help the world turn. Even when you have bad days, you will always have someone who will want to be there right with you. They will want to suffer with you. They would do anything for you. Never give up.

You must know: you are loved, you are not alone, you are worth it, and you must always keep fighting.

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

Thank you for reading! Never doubt yourself or think you don’t deserve love! You do! You deserve so much! And more!

[takaraphoenix]

1, 6, 15, 17, 23, 41 aand 44 please

Thanks for playing! <3

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in?

The first I got involved in? Not wrote, but just... involved. Mh. It’s gotta be One Piece, that’s where I discovered fanart and fanfiction for the first time. First fic I ever read was some self-insert love-triangle between a Mary-Sue and Luffy and Ace and I absolutely loved it because the mere fact that here, for free, I just got to read about my favorite characters and my favorite anime was absolutely mindblowing.

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

Holy effing shit this one alone will take A LONG TIME. Okay. Cutting this short to actually involved in, as in I actively read or wrote in that fandom, not every time a ship caught my fancy. And only one OTP per fandom, the top OTP.

Also, alphabetical order.

Ace of Diamond: Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun

Arrowverse: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Avatar - Legend of Korra: Iroh II/Bolin (I never really got into TLA when it came to fanfiction)

Ben 10: Rook Blonko/Ben Tennyson (HIGHLY UNTERRATED SHIP!)

Beyblade: Yuriy Iwanov/Rei Kon (my second-ever fandom where I actually got active as a writer! ;^;)

Card Captor Sakura: Spinel Sun/Keroberos

Charmed: Cole Turner/Phoebe Halliwell

Chicago Fire: Kelly Severide/Matt Casey

Danny Phantom: Danny Phantom/Danny Fenton (...and here, you can see exhibit A as to how I got into selfcest)

Death Note: Yagami Light/L

Descendants: Prince Pen/Carlos de Vil

Detective Conan: Kuroba Kaito/Kudou Shinichi

Digimon: Motomiya Daisuke/Takaishi Takeru

Dragon Prince: Soren/Callum

Entourage: Ariel Gold/Eric Murphy

Eureka: Nathan Stark/Jack Carter

Fairy Tail: Loke/Lucy Heartfilia (it’s my OTP, but it’s not the ship I was reading xD)

Fast and the Furious: Dominic Toretto/Brian O’Conner

Free!: Yamazaki Sousuke/Nanase Haruka

Glee: David Karofsky/Kurt Hummel/Noah Puckerman

Grimm: Eddie Monroe/Nick Burckhardt

Haikyuu!!: Kozume Kenma/Hinata Shouyou

Harry Potter: Fred & George Weasley/Harry Potter

Heroes: Gabriel Gray/Peter Petrelli

Hetalia Axis Powers: France/Germany

Hunger Games: Cato/Peeta Mellark

Imposters: Richard Evans/Ezra Bloom

Inuyasha: Kouga/Inuyasha

Jungle Book: Shere Khan/Bagheera

How to Train Your Dragon/Rise of the Guardians: Hiccup Haddock/Jack Frost

Killjoys: Prima Dezz/Johnny Jaqobis

Kim Possible: Shego/Kim Possible

Kingdom Hearts: Axel/Sora

Kuroko no Basuke: Takao Kazunari/Kuroko Tetsuya

Lord of the Rings: Gimli/Legolas

Lucifer: Mazikeen Smith/Chloe Decker

MacGyver: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver

Magi Legend of the Labyrinth: Sinbad/Alibaba Saluja

Marvel: it’s a tie between Loki/Tony Stark and Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark

Maze Runner: Newt/Thomas

Merlin: Gwaine/Merlin

Miraculous Ladybug: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste

Musketeers: Porthos/Athos/Aramis/D’Artagnan

One Piece: Trafalgar Law/Monkey D. Luffy

Percy Jackson: Nico di Angelo/Percy Jackson

Pitch Perfect: Kommissar/Beca Mitchell

Prince of Stride: Suwa Reiji/Fujiwara Takeru

Psych; Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer

Ranma 1/2: Ryoga Hibiki/Ranma Saotome

Riverdale: Jughead Jones/Archie Andrews

Road to El Dorado: Tulio/Miguel

Royal Pains: Boris Küster von Jürgens-Ratenicz/Henry Lawson

Sailor Moon: Kou Seiya/Tsukino Usagi tied with Tenoh Haruka/Tsukino Usagi

Scrubs: Percival Cox/JD Dorian

Shadowhunters: Magnus Bane/Jace Herondale

Sky High: Warren Peace/Will Stronghold

Sleeping Beauty: Maleficent/Aurora

Smallville: Oliver Queen/Clark Kent

Teen Wolf: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Transformers: Ironhide/William Lennox/Sam Witwicky

Trollhunters: Draal/Jim Lake

Twilight: Edward Cullen/Jacob Black

Vampire Academy: Mason Ashford/Christian Ozera

Voltron: Takashi Shirogane/Keith Kogane/Lance McClain

Wicked: Elphaba Thropp/Glinda of the Arduennas

Young Justice: Roy Harper/Dick Grayson

Yu-Gi-Oh!: Kaiba Seto/Jonouchi Katsuya (the first ever ship I wrote for!!!)

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love?

I mean. 75% of the ships I love are “obscure”. I... I always find the very obvious mainstream ships... boring. I mean, sometimes I find them nice in canon, but mostly I find canon to provide enough about them that I don’t really need fandom to get more of it, you know? Or, which also often happens, I find the mainstream ships have more of a very strong friendship-dynamic, or even a sibling-dynamic in some cases, and I just can’t really find it in myself to want to see them in a romantic way.

So, if I have to pick an, as in one, obscure ship, I will have to go with my top OTP. Jagnus. Jace and Magnus literally lived together, in both the show-canon and the book-canon, yet somehow it is an “obscure” ship. I mean, not somehow, we all know why. It’s the unwritten fandom rule of “canon mlm shall NEVER EVER BE BROKEN UP HOW DARE YOU SHIP ONE WITH SOMEONE ELSE”. You have no idea how often that rule has come between me and my OTP. Basically every time there is a canon mlm ship, really.

And this in no way or shape means to criticize those who only ship canon and are content with it, you do you, but I do find the lack of creativity in shipping in fandom where there is a canon mlm ship... really damn boring. Fandoms without canon mlm representation have the wildest constellations of ships, have a far broader variety of content, but when there is canon mlm, the majority of a fandom tends to just happily sit down with it and hug it and prefer not to be creative with the content and the shipping. And as a certified multishipper, I don’t really get that - like, even if you like the canon, you could have multiple ships?

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

My first OTP was Shere Khan/Bagheera, because gods do I love Jungle Cubs. And while other ships I interact more with have pushed it off the throne, if I see any form of Sheregheera content, I am immediately sucked in, no questions asked, no hesitation. I am utterly in love with this very rare, small, very obscure actually, ship and I will always love it and it still is one of my favorites.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

Ooof. Interesting one. I’ve done a variety of PJO fics I’m particularly fond of in previous versions of such a question, so let’s go with something else this time. “The Lost Soulmarks”. It’s, at this point, probably my own personal most reread story. I just reread it the other night, actually. It just - it hits all of the right spots in what I want from a fic. Very often, I write to please my readers, with “What do my followers like most?” in my mind at least to a certain degree, but some things are absolutely self-indulgent. And I should really write more absolutely self-indulgent fics because those are the ones I myself keep coming back to. It has ABO-verse, it has soulmates, it’s Jace-centric, with lots of love, misunderstandings but not the kind where one of them is to blame but rather where it’s due to the circumstances, it’s really emotionally painful, but pays off in the end. It’s... seriously those are all the things I love.

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

Uuuhm so like five WIPs where I am desperately waiting for updates?

Shadowhunters, Jagnus: “Non-Fat Frappuccino With Extra Whipped Cream” by @kimmycup - it’s my top OTP and my best friend gave it to me but now she is slowly murdering me with the wait for part 2

Shadowhunters, Jimon: “Strings” by annhamilton - I looove this story, only recently discovered it and fell in love with it and am now not-quite-patiently waiting for the next chapter

Avengers, WinterIron: “(Iron Is A) Star Killer” by RayShippouUchiha - a fic I read... a while ago and recently rediscovered with the latest update and am now desperately waiting for more!

Avengers, WinterIron: “An Unempty Nest” by gryvon - same as the one above, I read this a while ago and forgot about it and recently rediscovered it for myself and still love it

Avengers, Steve/Bucky/Tony/Tony: “Second Chance (at happiness)” by SailorChibi - I got this fic recommended and devoured it in one sitting and have since then checked nearly daily for updates because I greatly enjoy it!

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

*bangs potts and pans together* JAGNUS JAGNUS JAGNUS SERIOUSLY THEY LIVED TOGETHER. THEY LITERALLY WERE ROOMMATES. IN ANY OTHER FANDOM THAT’D HAVE TAKEN OFF LIKE NOTHING ELSE. THE PARALLELS BETWEEN THEM!! LET. MY. GOLDEN. EYED. BOYS. FIND. HAPPINESS. IN. EACH. OTHER.

Fanfiction Ask Game

[foreverbeingthunderbuddy]

Surprise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, cuss words, that’s it I think

Summary: The reader is a big fan of the Avengers, especially of their newest addition, Bucky Barnes. She longs for nothing more than to meet him, which she does one day, though she wishes she hadn’t made a fool out of herself that night. Now she has to face him again at a press conference.

A/N: This is my piece for @upsidedownparker’s 3k writing challenge. Congrats on 3k, that’s amazing!! I picked the Dialogue prompt #20 from this post. The prompt is in bold. Word count around 5,4k (Gif by @bicon-valkyrie, from this gif set) 

Masterlist

You don’t remember the news coverage of the Starks’ passing when it happened because you were only a couple of months old.

You read up on it years later when you were old enough to understand who Tony Stark and his corporation were. During your research you found what the news articles claimed to be the cause of his parents’ death; broken skull on Mr. Stark’s side and some kind of heart attack on his wife’s side due to a car crash.

A lot of newspapers – whose digitalized articles you found in various libraries – speculated about the true nature of the supposed crash and questioned the general public’s verdict of it being a coincidental accident. Was it really? Or is there more to it?

You were young but you were immediately intrigued by the story. What did really happen on the night of December 16th 1991? Was it truly just an accident? Why didn’t they find any major injuries on Mrs. Stark’s body that could have been responsible for her death, why did they file a heart attack even though – according to several news outlets – there were really no signs of any form of cardiologic collapse to be noted?

The diagnose was a safe bet to hide the authorities’ lack of knowledge concerning the case, you agree with that theory. You don’t know exactly what happened to Mr. Stark because all that’s published is “broken skull”. That’s it. You wish you knew if they scamped giving out the right findings to the public as well.

What’s the truth and what’s a cover up in this case? The world never received an answer and the story got buried as time went on until one particular person stumbled into the limelight of New York’s high society a couple of years ago, making headlines for producing futuristic weapons of all kind.

Anthony Edward Stark, being the mere incarnation of a playboy, also known as Tony Stark – or at this point, Iron Man.

You remember watching a video of his presentation for the Apogee Awards in Las Vegas years ago.

“With the keys to the kingdom, Tony ushers in a new era for his father's legacy, creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, satellite targeting. Today, Tony Stark has changed the face of the weapons industry, by ensuring freedom and protecting America."

What an icon, what an absolute and utter asshole.

And today? Mister I-create-the-most-testosterone-filled-weapons turned into Mister-I’m-still-the-best-but-now-I-also-save-the-world-to-prove-that which is something no one saw coming. He built his own team of superheroes who are not only really good at saving the world’s ass but are also incredibly good-looking celebrities.

Say Steve Roger’s name in a subway and you will have at least three people faint, man and woman.

You kept watching the Avengers from a safe distance, followed the coverage of their missions and doings with the utmost interest and secretly came up with your own theories whenever things got heated in their fan clubs. Low-key, of course. You never stood in a crowd and screamed Tony’s name on the top of your lungs everytime he made a public appearance and you also never wrote fan post to each of them.

Until one day.

Until the day they presented the newest addition to their team. James Buchanan Barnes, but nobody calls him that, unless he is directly addressed. We call him Bucky, Bucky Barnes sometimes. He caught your eye the minute you saw shaky phone videos of what seemed to be a fight between Steve Rogers and Bucky, on some street. It looked brutal.

It also provided for weeks of vivid discussions among devoted fans and produced the craziest theories about who the stranger with the black face mask and metallic arm was. Every now and then there would be new amateur videos about the mask man, sightings, caught by fans and it all was a huge mystery to you. You were instantly captivated.

Months later, Tony held a press conference about an incident in Rostow and of course you watched it live in your office, sitting in front of your computer and pretending to work on an article while you actually had a livestream of the conference open in another tab and watched it, mouse on the little icon of your word document, so you could instantly switch back and not get caught. You had one earphone subtly inserted into your ear, so you would understand what’s being said.

The press conference proceeded normally, the usual statements, the “it was a success”, the humble smile, the applause from the reporter crowd. And then Tony turned back to the mic and started introducing someone who you didn’t know, but you were captured by his words, so you leaned closer to the screen.

“… not gonna lie, we had a problematic start but we have come to terms with it and decided to combine our powers and strengths and work together. So, after this rather unspectacular introduction, I want to present to you the newest addition to my team. Ladies and Gentleman, please give him a hand, my newest colleague and fellow Avenger member, James Barnes!” Tony shouts into the microphone and starts clapping, the crowd quickly follows, driven by the sensation of this news.

James Barnes must have been somewhere on the right, judging from the direction Tony looked at. He didn’t appear on screen, though, which not only irritated you but also his presenter himself. Looks like the revelation of the newest Avengers wasn’t planned at all.

That put a small smile on your face.

You remember Tony walking to the right side of the stage and wildly motioning for someone to come up to him – someone probably being James Barnes – and after some petty seconds of hesitation, James finally gave in, stepped to the edge of the stage and with a single motion, jumped onto it.

He wore a tight, red, long-sleeved shirt which he rolled up on the sleeves, and black pants. His black hair was long enough to reach his chin and you remember thinking how unusual that was for a man – but his eyes! Oh, his eyes. Whoever filmed this must have been an angel directly sent from heaven because they zoomed in on James Barnes’ face up to his shoulders which gave you an excellent view of his ice-blue eyes.

How expressive! How extraordinary.

You were fully aware of the fact you were sitting in your office thirsting over a guy with long hair and a red shirt but you didn’t care.

“He also answers to the name Winter Soldier by the way. Or Bucky” Tony said into the mic and got pushed away by Bucky who definitely didn’t seem to like all of this.

Bucky Barnes.

He looked exactly like the guy from the video that went around the internet a couple of months ago. He fought Steve Rogers and is now his new colleague? Odd. But fascinating, nevertheless. What you would give to get a good look behind the scenes is out of the scale of the ordinary at this point. How do they stand to Bucky and how did they go from fighting-until-one-of-us-dies to let’s-be-friends-and-work-together?

Nobody knows.

Fast forward to now.

You were just informed by your boss that you would get the mind-blowing opportunity to go to a press conference to get some questions through for your magazine – but not any press conference. Everyone probably guessed it by now, it’s a Tony Stark press conference.

Heart, stop beating so fast!

You are currently on your way from the cab you took to the entrance of the event hall that is owned by Stark Industries and reserved for things like this. You’re also about to pass out. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d get this gig, ever. Doesn’t mean you tried before, it’s just your boss always had someone else for that, mostly his rising star named Ellie Cannon.

She sure is something; pretty, quite smart, mediocre-skilled when it comes to writing but makes up for it by landing the biggest stories. However she does it, you’re still trying to figure that out but that’s a different topic. She’s also, and that’s the only problem you have with her, known for writing about the Avengers and Stark Industries and therefore a loyal attendee at his press conferences.

She gets all the stories, you are longing for. Even worse: at this point every single staff member at Stark’s corporation and him and his Avenger colleagues know her. Personally. Tony and Bucky know she exists, they even know her name… which is already more than you have on your résumé.

Ellie’s always there, asks juicy questions – according to your boss, but you wouldn’t give her that much credit seeing as the questions are developed by a small team in your office, so your journal won’t embarrass themselves on live television – and every now and then gets invited to Tony Stark’s exclusive parties he holds once a month.

So, she’s living the dream. Or more accurate, she’s living your dream. But not today. Today you’re going to be representing NY Value Daily. You got dressed up for that – a dark blue, white-striped Navy printed Culotte jumpsuit and black stilettos – and put on a rather subtle make-up because there’s nothing worse than looking desperate in a room full of professional journalists.

You show the security guard your journalist ID you got from your boss this morning and join the small crowd of people waiting to go through the security check. Staff is very careful with who enters the building and who doesn’t. Understandable for someone in Stark’s position.

The people around you look incredibly fancy and a little up their own asses and you’re glad you chose the glamour route instead of the white blouse and black pants you originally planned for this. Sophia, one of your co-workers, could talk you out of it last second. Bless her heart.

You crane your neck and try to see inside the doors to the conference room that stand open and reveal very little of the stage, unfortunately. God, you are nervous. How long have you dreamed of this and how long have you watched your colleagues get this opportunity and talk vividly about it the next day in the office? You’re normally not the super jealous type but that did sting every time.

You can’t wait to see Bucky in person. Again.

The thing is, you have met him before. Met as in ‘you talked to him for less than ten seconds’. But it certainly was an experience.

Tony Stark has invited all kinds of people for another one of his extravagant parties yet again. This time though he didn’t hold it in his usual location being his mansion (not the one in California, he actually has one in New York City) because there was some sort of renovation (?) going on. You don’t exactly know, he didn’t make an official statement about it.

Instead of celebrating on his property, he rented a hall and brought the party there. That hall happened to be ten minutes away from where you live. Ten minutes. A stone’s throw. What an opportunity! You couldn’t waste that.

So what you planned to do was, ignoring how sly you were for wanting to do it, finding out if Ellie was going to the party – which she was – and stealing something from her, something she would need on her at all times, even when attending a Stark party. Like her wallet.

You wouldn’t steal money from her or harm her in any way, you would just take the wallet unnoticed, work longer, then call Ellie at a time where she must be at the party already and act like you just found her wallet and offer to bring it to her, you “would have called it a day now anyway and the hall lies directly on my way home”.

That was the plan. Lucky for you and your metaphorical clean slate, she was being clumsy and all mixed up the entire day due to the big event in the evening, so she accidentally forgot her actual wallet at the office when she left. Without knowing she helped you follow your plan because you had tried to get to her wallet all day and weren’t successful and by the time it was close to the end of work you had given up.

You had it, called her, acted like it was super important that she kept her wallet with her under all circumstances especially if she wanted to pay the cab afterwards, offered her to bring it to her because see above – and luckily she agreed. She also didn’t consider herself too good not to flex on you with her invitation and the high-profile guests she has met already. The slight guilt you felt when you came up with your plan vanished completely at that.

You drove there, hands sweaty, stomach like a knot.

Found a parking spot in a side street, a miracle! You had expected the area to be jammed because duh Tony Stark and his mates are here. You got out of the car and walked to the building, ignoring the butterflies that seemed to be rioting inside of you. You had to stop a couple of feet in front of the entrance because there was a barrier and a whole bunch of security guards who looked intimidating as fuck.

While you rang up Ellie’s phone, you didn’t take your eyes off the entrance in hope you would see one of the Avengers. Bucky Barnes, preferably. How incredible would it be if one of them decided to come outside at this exact moment and saw you here? Took in your face and registered your existence?

Mind-blowing.

You weren’t the only one waiting for a little candid, there were several small groups of people standing beside you. Some of them looked normal, some of them glamoured up, probably hoping they would get access to the festivities somehow. Didn’t look like they were successful yet.

You heard them discuss various theories about single members of the Avengers and you mostly didn’t listen because 1) you already knew part of those theories and 2) most of it sounded delusional as hell. So you waited and waited and looked around you and eyed everyone and everything that walked past you until you noticed the conversation beside you going into a very interesting direction.

“… the question. Where did he come from? You did see the video PlazaMobster posted on YouTube months ago, so you saw the battle between Cap and Bucky. It’s just weird to me how they can fight each other to death one second and then the next second be work friends and stick together, you know what I mean?” One of the girls in a Captain America shirt said to another one who she just met apparently and you kept your eyes straight forward but listened in to their conversation because that’s something you have thought about, too.

“Yeah, hm. Obviously, Bucky was the bad guy at first but he … maybe Cap convinced him to change to the good side and now they have a Scarlet Witch kind of situation, you know? From enemy to ally. I don’t know how much you can trust someone who tried to kill you a couple of months ago but I mean … it seems to be working, doesn’t it? For them at least.”

“But how did Cap convince him to join them, though? ‘Cause I mean that shit in the video looked ferocious as fuck, you saw it. It’s just so odd to me.”

True. It was odd.

“I don’t know. Maybe someone else convinced him, maybe someone he has history with?”

“But who would he have history with? He literally just appeared last year and the Avengers haven been going for quite some time now, so that history must be a long time ago.”

“I don’t know, could be anyone. But, topic change, have you seen his arm? What the actual fuck? Is it metal or just something that looks like metal?”

You heard a giggle.

“I’m pretty sure it’s metal and to be honest, I don’t know what’s hotter, his hair or his metal arm.”

True that. These girls were just as thirsty for Mr. Barnes as you were. You tried to hide a smile and kept staring at the entrance. Ellie really took her time considering she told you she would be there in thirty seconds. This was so typical.

“Here’s a theory I have read last week and it has given me creeps the instant I saw it. Bucky has a metal arm, right? Must be strong with it, like really strong. How long do you think would it take him to strangle someone or even break someone’s neck with it?”

That caught your interest as you haven’t really thought about that and you couldn’t tell where she was going with this theory. The other girl snorted.

“I have no idea but he can choke me any time with it, I’m open to experiments.”

The girls broke out in laughter.

“And you have read the articles and news coverage of Mr. and Mrs. Stark’s car accident, right?” The girl suddenly asked, taking you completely off guard. What does that have to do with the death of Tony Stark’s parents decades ago? You decided to remain silent and wait for what she had to say.

“Um… yes?”

“So. The reports said Mr. Stark died due to a broken skull he incurred because of the car crash. But what about Mrs. Stark? All it said was “heart attack”, but how likely is it really that in a car accident so impactful that he breaks his skull, she only gets a heart attack? A heart attack, out of all things. My grandma died from a heart attack and she lived her last years in her cosy bed and never got out of the house. I have never heard anyone die from a heart attack in a car crash before. That’s so … uncreative.”

“I know! I thought the same when I read it. I think the police made that up because they either didn’t know what the real cause of death was or they wanted to cover something up.”

“Exactly!”

This conversation was an actual representation of your own thoughts you had about that night. The diagnose heart attack was a scam and one of them seemed to have a theory about what happened and for some reason, it involved Bucky Barnes.

“What does Bucky have to do with it now?” The other girl asked, speaking what was on your mind.

“Well. I read on a blog that maybe Mrs. Stark didn’t die because she had a heart attack. She died because she a) had other major injuries like Mr. Stark and the police is just odd for not publishing that or b) she died of suffocation.”

Suffocation?? Why in the hell would she have died of suffocation? That’s so unlikely, who came up with that?

“Suffocation? What do you mean? Why would she- who would strangle … oh.”

Oh. Yeah, oh.

“When Tony introduced Bucky to the public he said they had their problems but have come to terms with it and it also would explain why they fought him in the beginning. He has a fucking metal arm, what do you think how much strength is in that? The guy who posted that theory said, someone in his family worked as a pathologist who was involved in the Stark case. That someone told him they found crass bruises on Mrs. Stark’s neck and severe injuries in the same area that must have been caused by another person.”

Silence.

“That could be easily made up. Why did he do it?”

“I know. And I have no idea. But it’s something.”

“But why didn’t the police publish that bit of information? Why did they hold that back?”

“Maybe they got threatened by someone? Someone powerful? There’s a lot of stuff going on that we don’t know about. I think it’s possible.”

That’s it. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You turned to the two girls and looked them in the eyes.

“Are you seriously suggesting that Bucky Barnes, the kind of new member of the Avengers, the new hero of our city and country, killed Tony Stark’s parents in December 1991 by breaking Mr. Stark’s skull and choking Mrs. Stark to death with his metal arm? Is that really – really – what you are arguing about?” You asked absolutely baffled and didn’t make an effort to keep your voice down.

The girls looked a little taken aback by your interfering and stared back at you with wide eyes.

“Um …”

“What are the chances that the day I decide to attend one of Stark’s parties for the first time, I have to listen to three women talking about me possibly killing Stark’s parents?” A male voices suddenly said before you and made all three of you jump and quickly turn around to see who the person was. 

He stood three feet away from you, hands in his pockets, body turned towards the building but head towards you as if he was walking to the entrance but stopped when he heard you say these things.

His chin-long hair was in a bun in his neck, his face was clean shaven and his outfit consisted of a black suit shirt and black pants.

You needed three seconds to recognize him and the moment you did, your heart stopped beating entirely and sank to your knees. You had never been this close to him, never seen those ice-blue eyes in person. Even though it was dark, you still noticed the shine in them, the light, and felt the immediate attraction he sparked in you.

Several bodyguards positioned themselves on each of his sides to shield him from the other fans, though you doubted Bucky Barnes needed any protection. He looked very serious.

You didn’t know what to say. Embarrassment captivated your whole mind. The girls beside you must have been drunk.

“We just discussed stupid theories we read. Mr. Barnes, I’m actually a big fan. I didn’t mean to offend you” One of them purred nonchalantly and tried a coquettish smile. Her voice sounded higher than before and her new friend didn’t seem to be any different.

“Yes! I can’t believe we’re meeting you out here, I’m just a huge admirer of the work you do for us and I just want to say you’re my favourite out of the whole team. I don’t even know what to say.” Yes, you know exactly what to say, you little brat.

Geez. These girls just made a huge 180 and converted to ass kissing, it seemed. You didn’t say anything because you hadn’t found your voice yet and you also didn’t know what to say that didn’t sound like these two fangirls.

Not giving anything away, Bucky’s eyes swiftly wandered over their appearances before traveling to you. His blue gaze took you in and he appeared to wait for something if his raised eyebrows were anything to go by.

“Hm?” You asked because his staring made you self-conscious and you felt like you were supposed to do something.

“And you? Anything you want to tell me?” He asked you cockily. While you couldn’t believe that the Bucky Barnes was looking at you and asked you an actual question, you desperately tried to come up with something good and maybe clever. You couldn’t think of anything. So you proceeded to stare at him for a few seconds and-

Was that Ellie over there strutting towards you?

“No, not really, thanks. I’m just waiting for my colleague. She forgot her wallet” You say as unaffected as possible. That caught him off guard, you could see it in the way he raised his eyebrows even further and tilted his head a little. And then he gave you a small smile, which your heart immediately reacted to, and shifted.

“Okay, then. I was actually-“

“Y/N, I’m sorry I took so long! I was talking to Elon Musk and I just couldn’t turn him away, you know? I hope you understand” She simpered and reached for the wallet in your hands.

“Of course not” You said, your tone contradicting your words. But naturally, Ellie didn’t notice or, more likely, ignored it and turned to walk away again when she spotted Bucky next to her.

“Oh my god, James! Hi, nice to meet you again, I didn’t see you inside. How are you?” She laid a hand on his arm instead of going in for a tight hug like she would have usually done when meeting hot guys but even she isn’t stupid enough to hug Bucky Barnes. Speaking of, he actually looked like he’d rather be somewhere else since Ellie appeared which is something you could relate to.

You decided you made a fool out of yourself enough tonight and took a step back.

“Good luck with her” You teasingly said to him and waved to Ellie as you turned around. The last thing you saw was the irritated but slightly amused expression in his face as he watched you make a quick getaway.

Safe to say, you didn’t sleep that night.

---

You anxiously take your seat in the second row in the audience and try to bring your heartbeat down to a healthier rate. Subtly, you wipe your sweaty hands on the jumpsuit over your legs and lean back, in an attempt to look relaxed and unbothered. The chairs around you fill with each passing minute and suddenly it’s 11 o’clock and the press conference begins.

You take a quick look at your notes. You had four questions, from which you will probably only have two answered. Your boss was concerned to send you here as the official representation of NY Value Daily but you reassured him you’d be the perfect choice to do this. You have been to a couple of these – smaller cases of course – and you have watched countless of Ellie’s press conferences, so you felt prepared. Nervous but prepared.

Too bad Ellie was sick today. Too bad.

The minute Tony Stark and his companion walk out on stage, your eyes are glued on Bucky like your life depends on it. The special thing about this one is that it isn’t just Tony stepping in front of a mic, this is bigger. They have an actual table on stage, several chairs, several mics. They announced Tony, Cap and Bucky to be here which is something that … almost never happens.

So naturally you were ecstatic. Aside from a lot of other things.

The host shakes all of their hands and there’s this little gap where the audience applauds and Tony, Steve and Bucky stand behind their chairs and wait for the sign to sit down. You can’t believe Bucky actually agreed to do this.

You see his eyes roam around the room, take in the people he’s standing in front of and you tense when he travels along your row. His gaze rambles over you like any other person but you see him hesitate all of a sudden and his eyes come back to you. This is what it feels like to be stared at by Bucky Barnes in broad daylight.

Your body feels electrified.

You give him a small smile and try not to look like you’re about to pass out. He doesn’t smile back but you see him take in your outfit – or what he can see of it – and then slowly, his eyes come back up to your face. What is he thinking?? You need to know.

The host invites them to sit down and the moment is gone. They all take a seat and wait. Not without disappointment you notice that Bucky doesn’t look at you again.

So, the questions begin.

You hold back at first because you feel too anxious to raise your hand for the mic and just listen to what the other journalists ask them. Most of the time, though, you’re watching Bucky.

He does a good job, you quickly realize. He doesn’t seem too fond of having to sit in front of a crowd and answer question, especially the juicier ones (haha) but he does it without growing defensive or being rude. You wish you wouldn’t be so affected by all of this.

They ask him about his past which is quite inappropriate seeing as this press conference is solemnly about the mission they just completed and not about his personal life. He gives short answers and at some point when the reporter turns to the “how is your love life going, now that you’re a national hero *chuckle chuckle*” topic, the host intervenes and asks to turn to more professional questions for this event.

And that’s when you raise your hand. Heart is beating wildly in protest but you’re a grown ass woman, you can do it.

The host points at you and you stand up and wait for the staff to give you the microphone. You can do this!

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m from New York Value Daily. My ques-“

“Are you new?” Bucky suddenly interrupts you. You look up and see the teasing spark in his eyes.

“Um, yes. Normally, my colleague Ellie Cannon represents our magazine but she is sick, so I went instead” You say insecurely and hope that answer is enough. You can already hear the quiet mumbles in the crowd behind you.

“I know Ellie” Tony blurts out and looks at the two men beside him.

“Yeah, me too” Steve says and opens a bottle of water while Bucky adds a “Hard not to know her”. The crowd laughs at that. Is this an inside joke of some kind? Are they adoring her or mocking her? You don’t know if you are supposed to defend her now.

“Um, okay? That’s … cool. Well, I’m substituting for her today, so-“

“What a pleasant surprise” Bucky says and oh my god, is that a wink? Immediate response from the crowd, a lot of Ooh’s and whistles around you. You feel your face heat up.

“Bucky, stop embarrassing her” Steve scolds him but can’t hide the smile on his face.

“Don’t be so harsh, Steve, he’s right, it is a pleasant surprise. I thought all your magazine had for us was the lovely Ellie and I’m pleasantly surprised that’s not the case. I can’t believe they withheld such a beautiful, smart woman from us all this time” Tony hums and gives you a flirtatious smile.

Ooh, that’s mean. On the other side, Ellie always acts like she is the queen of the office and holds arrogance closer to her heart than modesty, therefore you don’t really feel like supressing the gleeful feelings that arise from his comment. He also called you beautiful which doesn’t happen too often and it does flatter you, not going to lie.

Someone in the room woos like he’s at a bachelorette party.

“Okay, um, thanks” You say shyly and feel Bucky’s eyes on you, “Can I ask my question now?”

“Whatever you want” Bucky answers which earns him a dig in the ribs by Steve. You try to ignore that and concentrate on your notes.

“Okay, so my question is, now that you made this first step towards allying with English authorities, will there b-“

“You are the woman who I met outside the party the other night, aren’t you?” Bucky interrupts you again. Another wave of whispers and mumblings fills the room yet again. You nod.

“Yup. That was me.”

“Wait, you know each other?” Steve asks and looks at his friend who decides to ignore him.

“I knew it was you.”

Oh, that smile. That fucking beautiful smile that shakes up your whole body. You suddenly have trouble standing and not sinking into your chair.

“Surprise” You say and try a kittenish smile.

God, your article about this will need heavy editing, that’s for sure.

You get your two questions through without further incidents and both are answered by Tony (”Interesting questions, I might go far afield for that if you don’t mind, miss Y/L/N”), Steve (”I agree with whatever Tony just said. I’m sorry but I’m not nearly as smart as you or him, so I better stay in my lane”) and Bucky (”I think the real question is why has no one else ever asked us that?”) which relieves you outside of human limits and when you are done, you hand the mic back to the staff and shakily take your seat. 

Phew. You did it! And you didn’t even embarrass yourself. Fucking professional.

You start grinning as soon as you’re sure the attention is away from you and on one of the other journalists. Of course, you don’t withstand not staring at Bucky, so when you’re sure he must be focused on the other reporters, you dare a glance at him.

And meet his blue, sprakling eyes. He watches you and the corners of his mouth tug into a cheeky grin when he catches you staring. You can’t stop the flustered smile spreading on your face and quickly look away. From the corner of your eye you see Bucky lean over to his colleagues and quietly tell them something before leaning back and pretending to listen to the question that is being asked.

When the press conference is over and the Avengers have walked off the stage, you stand up and turn to leave the room as you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Feeling puzzled, you turn back and see one of Stark’s staff members standing next to you.

“Miss Y/L/N?” She asks friendly.

You reply with wide eyes. “Yes?”

“Mr. Stark has asked me to give you this, it’s in behalf of Mr. Barnes” She says and hands you a heavy piece of paper. She says her goodbyes and off she goes. You are beyond curious and hastily open the folded paper. What you see is a hand written letter with a very familiar mark on top.

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

This is an invitation to my festive celebration in honour of the successful completing of our latest mission. Come and get wasted with us! Please. The dress code is set at ‘glamorous’, it’s up to you what you do with that. Though I ask you to refrain from wearing Bikini tops or flat boots, we do have our standards. Location: my New Yorkian Mansion (you know where). The party is this Friday, start around 6 pm. Show this invitation to the security guards and they will happily guide you inside. 

Much love,

Tony Stark.

P.S.: Bucky will be there, too ;) You don’t want to miss a good time, do you?

---

Forever Tags:  @izzy-the-teawitch @wowpeterparker @brightcolorsoffendme @strangequakson @rosegoldquintis @thirdwheelchurchill  @hazel-eyed-bi @goldenkillmonger @yourwonderbelle

[mareebrittenford]

Ten (Writerly) Questions Tag!

Thank you to @acfawkes for tagging me! I haven’t been tagged in ages and it’s cool to be included!

1.    How did you start writing and why?

I’m not sure how to answer this one. I wrote fiction for fun in school, and kept journals etc. I actually started writing a teen romance novel when I was about 15 but I kinda quit when I realized I’d never be good enough to be published.

Flash forward to my discovery of fanfic, due to my intense disappointment over the way a certain series ended. I started reading fic, and then writing it. And then I had this one fic that got almost no attention, and I thought to myself ‘why don’t I take this fic that no one likes and turn it into an original novel!’ and on that genius idea I began writing Echoes of Azure. Now the original story is still getting almost no attention, so that all worked out well I think.

2.    What is your favourite line from your own work?

I don’t really have favorites in my own stuff. But I asked some of my friends. Here’s a couple of passages that they told me were good.

I’m not as frightened as I should be. I mean, I’m tearing down a narrow corridor with no safe exits, being pursued by a pack of zombies. If there’s a second pack coming from the other direction we’re screwed. But I can’t help feeling a ridiculous sense of euphoria.

He’s here. Running alongside me. Keeping up with me! Him being an animal seems like a minor detail. I know logically that some of this is just the emotions he’s sharing with me. His stupid doggy joy from running alongside me.

Damn. I thought finding my soulmate would mean I’d get laid. Instead I get a pet. -- Space Rats (wip)

There’s no direct access to the house. Instead there’s a wall made of odds and ends, sheets of roofing iron, concrete block, and a whole section of tiny strips of wood all nailed together like some modern art sculpture. The whole thing is overgrown with vines, and in the middle of it is a gate. It's pretty in a faded sort of way. It's made of wood, with an arched top and a diamond shaped peephole insert made of lattice. It was once blue, but all that's left of the peeling paint is on the lattice and in the grooves between the pieces of wood. -- The Extra Fakes (I’ve started posting this novel on my blog, this is from an upcoming chapter)

3.    Who is your writing idol and how have they influenced you?

I have lots of favorite writers who have influenced the voice inside my head massively (which is the voice I try to get onto the page). But as for hero’s I’d have to say Kristine Kathryn Rusch. I read plenty of her fantasy as a kid but it was when I started writing as an adult I discovered her blog that I realized how much ground breaking she’d done. And I think the biggest influence she and other women writers have done for me is that it balanced the male writer canon in science fiction and fantasy. Seeing women in leading roles in stories I loved as I was growing up has made me more confident writing my own female leads.

4.    Which OC has the best family life, found or otherwise?

I’m not overly fond of the epic tragic back story, so most of my characters have good family backgrounds. Sure Sam’s mother was killed, but he’s got a good relationship with his father and a loving extended family. Amy feels like a bit of a misfit in her family, but they love and accept her.

And of course the found family gets a good spin too.

5.    Which OC has the most satisfying ending to their story?

I don’t know. I guess that’s for the reader to decide.

7.    Which tropes (e.g., friends to lovers, fake death, white-haired pretty boy) do you always find yourself wanting to write?

I love reading certain tropes, (fake dating/arranged marriage!) but I don’t write them much myself. Wait, no! My new thing I’m writing, Space Rats has fake dating!

I do love playing with the idea of soulmates, or destined relationships. That trope shows up a lot, but it doesn’t always work out the way it’s expected.

8.    What goes through your head as you’re writing a scene?

As little as possible! If I let myself think too much about the mechanics of writing then I don’t write well or fast. My best and happiest writing happens when I can clear those doubts away and just write.

9.    How specific is your idea of your characters’ appearance, usually? Have you drawn any of them before? (and if so, can we see it?)

I usually have very clear ideas of what my characters look like. But alas I don’t draw, so I nothing of that to offer. I do make pinterest boards sometimes, here’s a link to one for The Extra Fakes if anyone is interested

https://www.pinterest.com/mareebrittenford/the-extra-fakes/

10.  What are you proudest of as a writer?

I am proud that I’m actually finishing stuff and following through with publication! (finishing things never used to be my strong suit) I’m also proud when random readers email or message me to tell me that something I wrote moved them.

tagging my newest followers! No pressure if you don’t like these things, I only do them sometimes myself. And since the @ tags don’t seem to be working, if you started following me this week consider yourself tagged

[legendofgrump]

awkwardarin replied to your post “awkwardarin replied to your post “4, 7, 10 you bet your ass I’m...”

*chanting* DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT

You ask, I deliver. Here we gooooo~ (Also I’m going to shame you all I want SO)

As per request, I’ll answer all the asks (that I haven’t already) from the fanfic questions post, but it’s under a read more so I don’t literally kill everyone’s dashes. I’m so sorry in advance

1. What was the first fandom you got involved in? I mean, before I even knew what “fandom” meant, I was writing Twilight fanfiction, so I guess that counts. The first one I actively participated in was the Grump one haha

2. What is your latest fandom? Ouran High School Host Club, but again, if you want active participation, then I guess uhhh Night in the Woods?

3. What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in? Definitely the Grump fandom!! I’ve met all the best people and 99% of my friends through this blog right here!

4. Answered

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for? Uhh Twilight, Big Time Rush, Total Drama, Game Grumps, technically AntiPoppy but it’s not even close to done and not published

6. Answered

7. Answered

8. Answered

9. What are the best things about your current fandom? I mean, for this fandom, like I said, it’s got all my friends in it. Everyone’s super supportive and there’s tons of opportunities to get involved and create stuff and support other creators! It’s probably one of the nicest communities I’ve been a part of.

10. Answered

11. Who is your current OTP? Currently I’m still heavily thinking about Hikaru and Haruhi from Ouran Host Club so that I guess haha

12. Who is your current OT3? The all time babes are Rubbercommanderbang. Also Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy is a ship that @cantolopejeevas made me think about and I love

13. Any NoTPs? Refer to this massive post

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs? Hikaru and Kaoru from Ouran, The entirety of the Teen Titans, the monks in Xiaolin Showdown, etc

15. Is there an obscure ship which you love? A n t i P o p p y

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? I’m more or less indifferent toward Egobang if we’re gonna be real here. I just don’t feel like there’s anything I can add to it at this point.

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite? I mean, before I knew what that meant, probably RaiKim from Xiaolin Showdown. And they’re still great, but now I’m a little gayer.

18. What ship have you written the most about? Ironically? Probably Egobang. I wasn’t so cynical about it when I first started haha

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them? Refer to number 16

20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Hmm probably like Septibang? Or CommanderSeptiBang?? Those were two ships I just kinda stumbled upon and was like? Okay I guess we’re doing this now??

Also Mae and Selmers from Night in the Woods. Surprisingly wholesome.

21. What was the first fanfic you ever wrote? I think I mentioned this before, but it was self-insert Twilight fanfic. Honestly I wish I was just as shameless as I was in middle school. Writing Mary Sue self-insert fic where you ship yourself with a main character is fun and satisfying as hell.

22. Is there anything you regret writing? Aforementioned Twilight fanfiction. Though part of me doesn’t because it was my origin story and also, like I said, shameless and for fun.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it. Ahh probably either “You Monster,” which is like my best stuff that I’ve put up so far??? or the massive Big Time Rush fanfic I talk so much about just for the sheer size of it :P

24. What fic do you desperately need to rewrite or edit? You Monster!!!! I’m gonna write a redux soon I promise.

25. What’s your most popular fanfic? ???? According to Archive, it’s You Monster! How nice~

26. Answered

27. Answered

28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of? Literally anything??? I love all fanart of anything I make??? But I guess You Monster haha

29. Do you have a beta reader? Why/Why not? Hahaha no I don’t write enough to warrant having one. And also I literally almost never edit anything I write rip

30. Answered

31. Answered

32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? If so, which band or genre of music does it for you? Depends!! Sometimes music really confuses my brain and makes me unable to think of words, especially if it’s really word-heavy music (which is most of what I listen to). If I’m really struggling, it usually helps to do it in silence so I can focus. But otherwise, I used to make little playlists of instrumental music to listen to, or play premade playlists of like study music or something.

33. Do you write oneshots, multi-chapter fics or huuuuuge epics? I really like writing huuuuge epics/multi-chapters but I’m really bad at finishing things ;--; so most of what gets published are requested one-shots/ficlets (one of which was requested the other day and I’M STILL T R Y I N G I SWEAR)

34. What’s the word count on your longest fic? Oh buddy. It’s over 100K.

35. Do you write drabbles? If so, what do you normally write them about? Uh I guess? But I’m not particularly stuck to the “required word count” for the different vocab. I usually only write really short things when people request stuff haha. But it’s kinda fun~

36. What’s your favourite genre to write? Probably just straight angst. Angst that develops character, specifically, but angst nonetheless.

37. First person or third person - what do you write in and why? Third person. I used to write in first person and for some reason it always seems less?? effective/neat to me? Plus I write very colloquially and I find it easier to do when I can write in third person.

38. Do you use established canon characters or do you create OCs? Usually canon characters, but if it’s something like Total Drama that depends on constantly changing casts of characters, I’ve definitely made some of my own characters.

39. What is you greatest strength as a writer? Uhhh???? Uhhhh????? Does not compute????

40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing? Effectively capturing characters, at least that fit my own standards. And then also the anxiety that comes along with thinking its good enough to waste people’s time with. :’)

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading: I’m not...currently reading any...but I will link to five of my favs.

1. Before and After (Shaddic) --Total Drama (also tw for a lot of HEAVY mental illness/abuse/violence) 2. Wu Xing Shield (DragonNutt) -- Xiaolin Showdown (tw: death) 3. If Lost, Return to Phil (thatsmistertoyou) - Dan and Phil (I don’t remember, I just remember it being really fucking sad) 4. Two Roads Meet (pianodan) - Dan and Phil (tw: suicide) 5. The Vibe and The Vibe 2: 2Fuck2Vibrator (by our very own @cantolopejeevas) (tw: gratuitous smut ;) )

42. List and link to 5 fanfiction authors who are amazing: 1. @cantolopejeevas​ / @grumpygamersandvibrantcolors for obvious reasons. they’re just!!! so good!!! at all the types of writing. (hey go commission them) The Ultimate Senpai 2. @i-am-avacado oh boy they angst well! current holder of the angst crown (for nooooow~) honestly writing senpai 3. @devilgate-drive provides the Good Quality Rubbercommanderbang Content and also just generally talented 4. @sweetiefiend writes the cute shit!!! like damn!!!! 5. @autumn-feels so??? talented for her age??? and so deep wtf

43. Is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you? I mean, all of my friends for one. And my lovely darling @cantolopejeevas who continues to push me forward and compliments my work all the time. But yeah, all my friends make me wanna get better because they’re all so good and I wanna do that tooooo!!

44.  What ship do you feel needs more attention? AntiPoppy. Please.

45. What is your all time favourite fanfic? Fuckin’!!!! Wu Xing Shield, listed above!!! It’s the first fanfic I cried reading!!! And it’s so beautifully written!!! If you like Xiaolin Showdown, I recommend it. Plus, it also took stuff from Xiaolin Chronicles and made it bearable. Bless.

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? Ahhh You Monster. It’s probably my best one. Even though it needs heavy editing haha.

47. Archive Of Our Own, Fanfiction.net or Tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why? I mean....Fanfiction.net is where it all began, but I never posted anything on it. I think AO3 is the best for posting fics and keeping track of them. But more people usually see it if I post it on my tumblr. So a mixture of those two?

48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not? For the longest time I didn’t because I had major anxiety!!! I was too nervous to leave a comment, no matter what. Plus, I didn’t really make accounts on either ffn or ao3 so I couldn’t have if I wanted to. But now I like leaving tags and stuff on people’s works on tumblr and (if I read more fic) I would leave comments, just because I want people to know they’re doing good work!!

49. Do you care if people comment/reblog your writing? Why/why not? Yeah, I mean, of course! I love seeing comments on all my work, art, writing, or otherwise! It’s just nice to know that someone liked something I made, especially if it’s something I’m self-conscious about like I am with writing. And reblogs help spread it around so it can get more attention, so that’s always helpful!

50. Answered

51. Answered

I HOPE EVERYONE IS HAPPY ESPECIALLY YOU @awkwardarin

[negan-leather-and-lace]

Title: Composed Warnings: Filthy porn, Negan’s potty mouth  Characters: Negan/Reader, reader insert Word Count: 5,408

Summary: Negan finds your dirty, porn writing and becomes intrigued.

You walked into Negan’s room with your head held high. Hell if you were going down, you were going down a champ – nothing would deter you from believing you were a good writer and that you could write about anything the imagination could muster – that was one thing Negan couldn’t take from you.

Of course, nothing could be simple, it had just been by a horrid misfortune that Dwight had seen you writing in your journal and had gotten curious. With that damn height advantage he had, Dwight had leaned over your shoulder and inconveniently seen Negan’s name written in there before you had been able close it and yell at him. But Dwight, with his inability to remain quiet and leave people alone, had assumed you were conspiring against your leader.

You had tried to explain to him that your journal had nothing to do with trying to hurt Negan, but Dwight hadn’t believed you. That sneaky bastard had stolen your journal last night, against your wishes. When you had woke up this morning, the journal had not been in its original place - to say you had panicked would be an understatement. It had been fruitless to search because you knew who took it – you had been seething with rage and at the same time felt violated.

Not that it mattered how you felt, here at the Sanctuary, there was no such thing as privacy rules or justice, other than the rules Negan deemed. But that journal of yours had not been meant for prying eyes, least of all Negan’s. But like the ignorant fool that Dwight could be: he had no idea he had just handed Negan your personal porn journal where you had been writing some spicy, sex pieces about the latest inspirations that had hit you.

For the last few months you had been a soldier in Negan’s army of Saviors. You had watched Negan from afar, admiring him for his tenacity and charismatic ways. It had taken a few weeks for you to begrudgingly admit you had always been attracted to him, and a few more to realize just how zealous your desire ran. He was a man that commanded respect and was an advocate of using fear to keep his own men in line.

Of course, you weren’t blind to the terror he inspired or his very heartless and demeaning methods and you couldn’t overlook the fact that he had several wives. But you also realized it was impossible to deny that you wanted him – you wanted him oh, so very badly. Your burning need for the man had gotten so great that you couldn’t get him out of your mind, so you resorted to your favorite outlet.

Only two weeks ago you had decided to start writing again after a long break because of the volatility of the apocalyptic environment you had been engulfed in. But now with the Saviors, the threat of death was much lower than it once was. You had put yourself in harms way just to scavenge for a journal and some pencils, but the reward of being able to write again was priceless.

It hadn’t taken you long to delve right into your own pieces with beautiful prose and descriptive diction of having raunchy sex with Negan. Oh yes, your writing skills were being used to the utmost of their capabilities in your eyes – but what would Negan think of the erotica you had wrote? Would he even approve?

You were pretty certain Negan was going to find some way to rob you of your dignity, well at least that was what you were anticipating. But honestly, you weren’t certain how Negan would react to your sexual writing liberties, would he iron your face over them? That seemed unlikely, but would he be pissed, disappointed, disgusted, ashamed, mock the living hell out of you? All of those were highly probable. The need to know Negan’s intentions were gnawing away at your nerves – and if you don’t find out soon you were certain you might die from the suspense.

Yeah, it was absolutely mortifying knowing that your leader had probably read every word of the filthy porn you had wrote about him. All the different positions in which you had imagined having sex with him, all the different ways you had imagined him going down on you, all the different ways you had imagined sucking him off – and yes, you had regaled all these fantasies in your journal.

Just recalling all of the salacious acts you had involved Negan in caused a cloud of rosy embarrassment to creep across your cheeks – and even with your head held high you were sure he could see you blushing face.

Negan was sitting on his couch in his lavish bedroom, when Dwight not so kindly forced you through the door. Your leader was leisurely leaning into the furniture, his arms resting against the back of the gray cushions. Negan had his signature leather jacket and white t-shirt on with his well trimmed beard and slicked back hair. Lucille had a comfortable seat next to as she was propped firmly against a pillow. He looked completely at ease as he watched you walk in the room with Dwight close at your heels.

“There is our little fucking writer,” he said avidly as you entered. You didn’t miss Negan’s gaze methodically tracing the curves of your body, and as you continued forward a tight, heat coiled in your lower stomach.

Negan had the widest grin you had ever seen on his face, as if someone had just told him it was an all you can eat buffet at the pussy bar. You just knew he was eagerly awaiting the chance to either punish or mock you for the twisted knowledge he had gained.

Your journal was sitting on top of his glass coffee table, as well as the rest of your damn pride. Negan might as well have just ironed your fucking face at this point because seeing your journal in his possession was more torturous than you had anticipated. You had tried to prepare yourself for this trauma, but holy shit you might need some damn therapy after this one.

Dwight walked in, his steps chock full of arrogance as he guided you toward the beautifully upholstered armchair directly across from the couch. The blond hovered over you, as if he had just caught America’s most wanted criminal, and was patiently awaiting a fucking belly rub from his superior. 

Dwight placed a hand on your shoulder possessively, and it almost made you want to shudder. The man had never grown on you and you had always believed he’d been a worm.

“So it was plans for a coup, right? She’s been plotting to overthrow you for a long time?” Dwight said haughtily, his overconfidence was just oozing from each word. He must not have read the contents of the journal and just assumed he was holding a gold mine of treason in his hand. You had to withhold a laugh of frustration before you decided to speak out.

“Fuck you, Dwight, it wasn’t your journal to take. I told you, the contents were none of your fucking business, you–” that’s when Negan raised his hand to usher in silence. He was looking at you, just waiting to see if he could goad you into a fight – instead you denied him the satisfaction and remained still.

“Oh, it was fucking better than that,” Negan said amidst a mirthful chuckle, and he flashed you his pearly white teeth. “That was the best fucking thing I’ve read since we got here.”

You felt your eyes widen to the size of saucers from utter shock. For a second you were pretty certain your ears may have just malfunctioned, or maybe you had been hallucinating this whole conversation. But when the smile on Negan’s face only grew, it only confirmed what you heard as true.

Shit, shit, shit, had he just praised your porn writing as entertaining? You would have thought it was the apocalypse if it wasn’t the actual fucking apocalypse.

“Now Dwighty-boy, I’m going to talk to our little writer here, alone,” Negan said, his voice allowing no room for argument as he nudged forward so he was even closer to you.

“We have all sorts of interesting things to talk about.” He said as he locked eyes with you again. This time he sounded slightly suggestive and forbidding all at the same time, and if you hadn’t been struggling to wrap your head around his intentions – you would have been so turned on right now.

Dwight gave Negan a skeptical look before giving a firm nod. As he was leaving, Dwight shot you a pejorative glance before he closed the door behind him. You sat there, frigid, patiently awaiting Negan’s next move. Since Negan had indirectly complimented your porn writing you felt certain you weren’t going to have your face ironed – but maybe you shouldn’t assume; Negan could be unpredictable. It was a quality you found yourself even enjoying from time to time – that whole unstable air that encompassed him.

You jolted forward in shock when Negan started to laugh inexplicably and the sound of his laughter echoed off the walls and filled the large bedroom. He was still watching you, a dark glimmer fluttering under his lashes, but Negan was still letting out a low, throaty laugh.

“I was fully expecting a book filled with fucked up assassination plots, so you can imagine my surprise when I opened up this fucking book and found out it had descriptions of, yours truly, doing the freaky-deaky. I was shocked speechless, doll.”

He had a wide, joyful smile on his face, because Negan had just learned your dirty little secret. And hell, he was going to lord it over you, for him this was pure gold, pure fucking gold.

“You enjoy writing this sex stuff because it gets you all wet and wild, right? And I’m your fucking shining inspiration,” he jested.

You were still stunned silent, your mind was fluttering like a crazy, caged bird – no thought seemed to stay concretely locked in place. As you were about to speak, Negan interrupted you.

“So you got the hots for me don’t you, doll?” He implored with a smug smirk on his damn perfect lips. There was no lying your way out of this, you knew that with Negan honesty was the key – he respected those honest hardworking people of this Savior army, so you knew there was no way around it.

You nodded without hesitation because words were currently lost on you. Negan wasn’t an idiot you could fool. Negan had always been like walking sex in your eyes and if you told him otherwise you weren’t certain what would happen.

“I read your whole journal, and I’ll be damned, it was… sexy,” he said with a hearty smile. You were certain your face was as bright as a tomato from sheer embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to read it, that was my private journal. Dwight had no permission to take it from me,” you finally found your voice and spoke out. Negan chuckled under his breath. “He had every right to take it if he thought you were planning on killing me. It was just unfortunate for you that you were only writing porn, but I like to think of this as a happy little mistake. I do have to say, you really made me out to be an experienced sex god of some sort, and I like it. I mean, I just have to read you my favorite part, because hell, I don’t know how you found out I eat pussy this good.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you were sure Negan was toying with you –with that silly grin plastered on his face. It wasn’t long until Negan finally made a move and picked your journal up off the table. All his movements seemed tantalizingly slow – as if you were trapped inside a spell of slow motion madness. You watched as he opened the book to a random page, and scanned the surface of the sheet before he licked his lips and allowing a ghostly smirk to possess him.

“Oh, and I thought Lucille was a dirty girl, but doll, it seems you got her beat,” he jested, behind a giddy grin. “I mean this is some creative shit.”

He readjusted the book in hand and leaned forward so his eyes were squarely meeting your own.

Just to fuck with you some more, he cleared his throat as if he was preparing for a long speech. “Negan’s thumbs spread your lips and he immediately buried his face in your wet sex, his tongue circling around your clit before sucking it into his mouth,” he stopped, and holy shit, you were glad he did – because you needed to find your bearings again.

Right now you were struggling to keep your breathing steady as a hefty warmth settling between your legs and was creeping into your stomach. You wouldn’t be surprised if your panties were absolutely soaked at this point because Negan’s voice was erotic as hell.

When you had wrote that, you had never intended for the man himself to read it – let alone read it to you – and now the gleam in his eyes contained a certain hunger you had never witnessed in Negan before.

“At least you got one thing right,” his voice sliced through your very consciousness. “You better fucking believe I eat pussy like a damn god.”

He lazily flipped to the next page, his eyes transfixed on the wrinkled parchment. You felt your face turn blazing red because you knew, you just knew full well that you had written a very vivid sex scene on that page.

Again, Negan cleared his throat and shot you a toothy, boyish grin before he started to read.

“The lewd sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, punctuated by your cries and his occasional gutteral groan. Each time Negan pushed his cock into you as far he could, he would grind his hips in a circular motion that touched parts of you that you weren’t aware could feel so soul-shatteringly incredible and to your shame you could feel the wetness of your arousal coating the insides of your thighs,” Negan stopped to let out a high pitched whistle.

Your leader staggered back in what must have been unadulterated shock. “Christ, this is some good shit. How did you know I like grinding my hips into pussies? You’ve been spying on me, I bet. You dirty little voyeur,” he whispered at you in that gravelly, seductive little way that made your toes curl.

Your face was probably the most brilliant shade of pink, but you remained composed, even though you were being accused of peeping. “I’ve done no such thing, I just rely on my imagination,” you stated explicitly.

“You look mighty embarrassed talking about this. Am I making you uncomfortable?” Negan unleashed another sly grin

“No,” you retorted. “I’m fine.”

Negan stood up from his seat on the couch and languidly walked passed you. A muscular, jeaned leg brushed against yours as he passed by. You watched as Negan approached a very small table near the window.

“Come here, doll.” he instructed, which you obediently did without question. You were nervous, Negan still hadn’t stated his intentions for you, and you wondered if he really was going to iron your face.

You watched as Negan pulled out two glasses and a small bottle of Jack Daniels that was nearly emptied. It had been a long time since you had tasted a drop of whiskey, and you had always been a whiskey girl.

Negan must seen the way your eyes lit up, because he started to chuckle. “If I would have known you were so turned on by whiskey I would have asked for another bottle,” that devilishly handsome man poked.

He poured some for you and himself before passing you the crystalline glass and it’s potent contents. Taking the glass cautiously, you silently swirled the whiskey around before taking a calm drink. The burning warmth that slide down your throat was heavenly, and damn had you missed just relaxing and enjoying a glass of booze.

You both sipped the whiskey slowly, indulging in the heat and smoothness that you had long missed. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Negan observing you with solicitous curiosity.

“I got a proposition, and I only make propostions over a good glass of whiskey,” he said slowly as he tongue ran over his lips in a come-hither fashion.

“So, I read your journal, and it seemed to be a little embarrassing for you, I guess I would be embarrassed too if it was me,” Negan chimed in with a wicked smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “But listen to this, I got the best fucking way to mend this.”

He set down his glass and took a few steps forward, purposely invading your personal space. You had forgotten how tall Negan really was, as he towered over you. The smell of leather, whiskey and the faint scent of the forest and pines lingered on him, making for a very potent and intoxicating mix.

“How would you like to find out, you know, how fucking good I really am, doll? I mean, I don’t do apology sex, so this would be damn special. Holy shit, thinking about this is making me hard as a fucking rock.” You looked down at his pants and realized he was telling the truth, that indeed there was a large bulge pressed against the front of his gray jeans.

Negan was leaning into you now, so close that you could see every beautiful, individual silver and black whisker on his handsome, yet aging face. His dark irises were digging into your flesh, causing butterflies to dance in your stomach and for a second your own gaze fluttered to his perfect, pink lips. The very lips you had written and dreamed of kissing, before you refocused your sight back on his eyes.

Was this even reality right now? Because Negan was sincerely offering himself to you, and for a few seconds you felt as if your brain couldn’t even coherently make a sentence to accept his idea. This was what you had been fantasizing about for the last few weeks, and now this very desire that had been clawing away at you was finally becoming a reality – it seemed surreal.

Before you even spoke he placed a calloused finger on your lips, but it did not stay there for long. The tip of his finger trailed lower down your chin and dropped further to trace the contours of your throat and neck.

Your breath hitched in your throat as Negan’s finger purposely furthered its pace downward – especially as it grazed over the mound of your breast. His forefinger caressed the tip of your nipple and you found yourself arching your back slightly to meet his finger.

You were quickly wishing your shirt didn’t exist and you could feel your bare flesh against his. If you hadn’t been under a hypnotic, lusty haze and dying for more, you might have ripped your shirt off right there.

His hand dipped lower toward your stomach until it reached the very hem and leather belt on your jeans. Negan stopped and leaned in even closer to you, so much so that your faces were just a whisker length apart. He allowed his forefinger to tease the skin around your lower abdomen, which was causing wild goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

“So doll, what do you say? Wanna know how good I can fuck you?” His breath was tickling your outer ear as he spoke.

“Yes,” you whispered, as you finally found your awed, and suppressed voice.

“I didn’t fucking hear you?” He muttered, as he undid your belt and slid his hand underneath your blue jeans and panties. His dexterous fingers brushing against the soft flesh above your sex, right before he reached your tender folds.

You let out a small gasp as his fingers teased your clit. He was as skilled as you had imagined – his fingertips slowly traced their way around your lips and sensitive entrance – alluding to the fact he might finally dip into your core, which you were silently praying for.

“You are mighty wet, doll. Too bad you can’t find your fucking voice. Now, do you want me to fuck you or not?” Negan purred the question right into your ear, as he dragged out every syllable.

“Please, fuck me,” you groaned louder as his fingers shifted around your clit in a methodical circle again, drawing sharp waves of pleasure in your stomach. Your knees were starting to feel weak and with Negan’s breath hitting your ear you were surprised you were still standing.

Two of his fingers slid eagerly into your entrance and right away found a sensitive spot against your wall. Half distinguishable words and moans escaped your lips, and slowly a fire caught ablaze right in your lower abdomen just from the movement of his fingers alone.

The way he was gently rubbing made your hips buck slightly against his hand, almost begging him to go deeper and pleasure you further. The whole time Negan had a fervid grin that went from cheek to cheek, showcasing his dimples and making him even more appealing.

It didn’t take long for short, strangled moans to escape your mouth, as Negan continued to move two fingers in and out of you in such a slow and torturously sweet manner. You could feel yourself tighten around his fingers as he maintained a steady rhythm.

He was basking in the power he had over you, and you didn’t even fucking care anymore. You were so close to an orgasm that you could already see blackness creeping at the edges of your vision.

He was priming you, giving you a small taste of how good he could be – you knew it. But now you were drunk off of him, completely and utterly hooked. You needed more, so when he removed his hand from your pants when you were on the brink of your orgasm, you cried out like a child whose toy was stolen.

“Good girl,” Negan cooed in your ear. “You feel good enough to eat. Now, take your clothes off, get on the fucking bed and don’t make me tell you twice,” he commanded as he leaned against the wall behind him.

You were a shaking mess still, and your body was attempting to pull itself together. Never before had you been so close and had an orgasm stolen from you – even now you were certain your legs were made of rubber and you didn’t even come.

Slowly, you turned around, your eyes fixated on the large four-poster bed with the silky, exuberant gray comforter and matching pillows behind you. It was a bed made for a king – and you were surprised you hadn’t noticed it when you walked in.

Indeed, you did not need to be told twice as you walked over to the bed and very slowly shimmied out of your tight blue jeans. You dragged the motion out a little longer than you anticipated as you slid them down slightly and moved your hips in a tight circle. Hell, you had never been good at doing a strip tease, but you were good at getting even – and Negan had denied you an orgasm so you were going to get your revenge one way or another.

Any nervousness that had once been festering inside you was washing away, because deep down, it felt like Negan wanted you – and above all things you wanted him. Your body was screaming for his hard, long dick to be inside you practically.

Your writing about him had piqued his interest – and now you had gotten noticed and were being rewarded for your hard work in a twisted, fucked up kind of way.

Negan stayed where he was, sipping and savoring every drop of his whiskey. A feral look in his dark pools confirmed your belief that Negan did want you in a really fucking bad way – maybe it had been the way you were gyrating you hips wantonly - but for whatever reason it was, Negan looked hungry and close to insatiable, almost as if he could consume you whole.

You pulled your thin t-shirt over your head and as you began the task of removing your bra, the sound of footsteps filled your ears. Just in time you looked up to see Negan quickly closing the distance between the two of you.

He grabbed both sides of your cheeks unceremoniously and his lips collided upon yours. You felt Negan’s kiss become more demanding, as if he had a certain thirst for you that needed to be quenched. You tilted your head which allowed him to invade your mouth with zeal.

You felt like your head was spinning out of control as Negan’s tongue was doing furious exploration in your mouth. His thumbs started caressing your cheeks in a very slow circular motion, and you let out a soft moan that you were certain was reverberating in his mouth.

Without warning, Negan pushed you down on the very edge of the bed, not roughly, but rather with fervor. His eyes roamed your naked form and you could see his gaze light up as he stared directly at your exposed breasts.

You watched as he peeled off his jacket and shirt. Never before had you been so enraptured as sinewy muscles rippled under natural tan skin. Dark and silvery chest hairs were peppered on his upper pecs and ran down the length of his stomach.

“Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath as Negan undid his belt and pulled down his boxers. And just like that, his bulging erection came popping out. It had been a very long time since you had seen a cock so girthy and with such a large head – it was making you wet just looking at it.

“Holy shit is right, these pants were getting too fucking tight, and you’re the only one to blame here, doll.” He grabbed one of your nipples and began to tweak it with assiduous precision.

“You thought you could tease me and get away with it, didn’t you, doll? I’m gunna eat you out so fucking good that… well shit, you’ll be reliving it in your wet dreams for the next year,” his voice had dropped an octave and just his voice alone was causing shivers to run down your spine. A moan escaped your lips when he pulled on your nipple.

He didn’t even hesitate as he lowered himself toward your sex, neglecting the nipple he had been teasing. Hot breath was billowing against your inner thighs – the anticipation of waiting was going to make you almost come. Teeth, it wasn’t long until you felt Negan nipping at the sensitive skin of your thighs making your legs shake.

Negan finally lowered himself, and using his tongue to paint long, languid strokes from between your folds and your opening to your clit. You lifted your hips and offered yourself eagerly to him. Negan pulled your clit straight into his mouth gently, and held it between his teeth while running his tongue over it.

A tight heat began to build up in your stomach and slowly it was turning into an inferno, and you could feel it threatening to spill over.

His tongue danced feverishly across your clit as Negan’s hands caressed your upper folds. With desperation, your hands clutched frantically at the sheets. A bone-tingling wave of delight swept over you – it started at your center and spreading out through your limbs, until there was nothing but Negan and the delicious feeling of his tongue against your exploding nerves. With a moan, Negan sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked the tip with his tongue, over and over.

Finally, you felt yourself losing control as colors flashed before your eyes. A ball of light in your belly burst, exploding like a nebula and blinding you with flashes of white, hot pleasure. You were clutching tightly to the edge of the bed as you cried out in unadulterated satisfaction.

And then he was sliding away, his mouth leaving your dripping sex and you gave a frustrated moan, thinking he was abandoning you. But then you felt broad hands prying your legs apart and spreading your thighs wide until your legs dangled over the edge of the bed helplessly. Negan was standing in front of you, and you could see him sliding his pants further down and slipped a condom down his hard shaft.

“I need to fuck you now, I can’t fucking take your moaning anymore,” he grumbled. The word ‘fuck’ rumbled from Negan as he lined himself with your entrance and lazily rubbed his tip against your slit. “What do you want me to do, doll?”

“I need you inside of me, please,” you could hardly recognize your own voice, as you plead for Negan to fuck you. It sounded so lusty and needy – but you had never wanted anyone to fuck you more in your entire life.

He must have wanted you to feel every last inch of him, because he pushed inside you agonizingly slowly. When you were least expecting it was when he pushed his hips forward and sunk into you to the hilt. You had never felt so thoroughly filled and widened – why hell you could almost hear your entrance screaming in aching delight.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you swore in an endless, breathless litany that even made Negan jerk his hips a little deeper into you.

"Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned as Negan bottomed out in you and remained still for a second.

You just wriggled your hips restlessly in an unvoiced plea for him to move. This made Negan groan heatedly as the movement made your body squeeze him with a fresh wave of muscle contractions from the past orgasm.

“Please… please… Negan, fuck me,“ you found yourself on the verge of sobbing.

Gripping a toned thigh in each hand, he began to rock his pelvis back and forth, rapidly picking up the tempo until he was drilling into you as fast as he could. You could feel Negan driving himself into your body with a new manic rhythm, so quick that your breasts were bouncing uncontrollably.

You couldn’t deny how much you loved the friction of your sweaty bodies, and the feeling of skin together. You went wild beneath him, writhing and arching and moaning in a way that made your voice hoarse nearly as you whimpered and moaned in searing pleasure.

"Good girl, you are so fucking tight,” he panted as you screwed your eyes shut at the feeling of one of his hand letting go of your thigh to fumble clumsily against your clit. “Come for me,” Negan growled.

He surged forward harder and deeper, rubbing a spot in you that finally released the burning star in you belly, making an explosion that sent an entire rainbow of colors across your vision. You felt your muscles contract and squeeze around Negan’s moving cock.

You couldn’t have stopped the shrill screaming that left your throat even if you tried – as Negan’s name escaped your lips in a loud, unceremonious way.

A powerful orgasm ripped through your entire body, reducing you to a mumbling, shaky, sweating mess. Your own climax must have sent him over the edge, because Negan’s lips formed a little ‘o’ as his brow furrowed together all tight and focused.

“Fuck,” he cursed as his hand tightened around your thigh. You felt Negan’s cock throbbing inside you as he thrust into you a few more times before going still.

Breathless, satisfied and exhausted – you both went limp. Carefully, he rolled off you and actually propped himself against the edge of the bed. His lips parted slightly and curled into a smile, as Negan looked over at you, with those bright eyes and that sheen of beautiful sweat across his forehead.

“I expect a second part soon, and there better be some lavish cock sucking, otherwise there are going to be some damn problems.”

The END. Thank you for reading! 

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56 Brilliant Woodworking Tips for Beginners

Woodworking is a blast, but it can be intimidating for beginners. Luckily, our readers and editors love passing along their go-to tips.

Every editorial product is independently selected, though we may be compensated or receive an affiliate commission if you buy something through our links.

Half Pencil Marks Exact Copies

While trying to trace an exact copy of the throat plate for my table saw, I came up with this nifty technique using an ordinary pencil. I just shaved my pencil into a half-pencil by carefully grinding it on my belt sander. The flat edge enables my modified pencil to ride straight up along the edge of the template. It also works great for marking and then shaping inlays for my woodworking projects. — Tim Reese.

Perfect Bar Clamp Cover

Iron pipe clamps can easily mar softer woods or react with the glue to stain the wood. My solution is to cut a section of plastic PVC pipe to size and place it around the pipe. If you have several short lengths, you can space them strategically to accommodate different widths of stock wood. — Tim Johnson.

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Quick Blade-Height Gauge

This gauge block is the quickest way to set the height of a table saw blade. This one is made from a 3-in. length of 4×4 cut to the settings used most frequently. If you need more settings, just create another block.

Then when it’s time to reset the table saw blade, these blocks will help you get the job done quickly

Hachi888/Shutterstock

What’s the Reason for Nominal Dimensions?

For many of us, the moment we learned that a 2×4 board is actually 1.5 inches x 3.5 inches was simply mind-blowing. The reason for this apparent contradiction is that the board has been planed down to eliminate irregularities. At one point, many years ago, 2x4s actually were 2 inches x 4 inches, but their rough surfaces made them difficult to stock and handle. The old terms, such as 2×4 or 4×4, are still used, and are known as the “nominal” size of the board. These nominal sizes are used because they are easier to say and they stick to tradition.

Flexible Sanding Block from the Office

Sanding curves is tricky. Sometimes you need a sanding pad that’s both firm and flexible. A small notepad works great. Just wrap sandpaper around the pad and bend the pad to whatever arc you need. Slip the one end of the sandpaper between the pages to help hold it in place on the pad. Give this a try the next time you’re working on a project that has curves and tough to reach spots.

Simple Circle Layout Tool

This simple jig makes laying out circles a breeze. Drill a 1/8-in. hole through every inch mark on a ruler or yard-stick. To draw a circle, place a pin through the number “1” into the center of your board. Add 1 in. to the radius of the circle you wish to draw, and insert a pencil into this number. Using the pin as a pivot, rotate the pencil to mark the circle. — Edwin Constantino.

Make a Quick Mixing Surface

Instead of using a container to mix a small amount of epoxy, just make a mixing surface on your workbench using painters tape. Simply lay down strips, overlapping the edges so the epoxy doesn’t get on your bench. When you’re done, peel off the tape and throw it away. This mixing surface will work for more than just epoxy, you can use it for wood glue or any other material you need easy access to while working on a project.

Cheap Stain Sprayer

Here’s an easier way to stain or seal chairs, lattice or anything with numerous tight recesses. Pour the stain into a clean, empty spray bottle. Spray the stain onto the project and wipe up the excess with a brush or rag. The sprayer will squirt stain into all those tight, hard-to-reach cracks and joints. — Valrie Schuster.

Never-Fail Miter Joint Clamp

Clamping up four mitered corners is tricky. You can buy specialty clamps for this, but I make my own. Here’s how to do it: Start with a long 1×4, as it’s easier (and safer) to clamp for making the angled cuts than a short piece. Mark out the blocks, and then drill a 1-in. diameter hole in the center of each one. The hole prevents the blocks from getting glued to your project. Cut 45-degree angles tangent to the hole, and then cut the blocks free from the long board.

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Slick Table Saw Tip

I find the best way to protect my cast-iron table saw top is to occasionally rub on a coat of paste wax. This gives me a nice, slick top for easier material feeding, and if I drip glue on the surface, it won’t stick. It also helps prevent surface rust when the air is humid. — Jack Linden.

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Easy Odd-Width Measuring

How do you divide 11-3/8-in. (or any other mathematically difficult number) into equal parts without dividing fractions? Simple. Angle your measuring tape across the workpiece until it reads an easily-divisible dimension and make your marks with the tape angled. For example, say you want to divide an 11-3/8-in. board into three equal parts. Angle the tape until it reads 12-in., and then make marks at “4” and “8”.

Safety When Cutting Small Parts

Recently I needed to cut some small furniture legs on my miter saw. With their irregular shape, they were impossible to hold safely, so I attached each leg to a scrap 2×2 with a dowel screw. These assemblies stayed straight and kept my hands far from the blade. — David Alexander.

Improvised T-Bevel

Not long ago, I needed to make some angled wood parts to build a new soffit on my garage. I didn’t have the customary tool for the job, but I had some steel joining plates. I screwed through one of the holes in the plate, set my angle, then added another screw to lock the angle. I could then use it as a template to mark all the pieces at the same angle and cut them with my circular saw.

Bi-Fold Workbench

Old doors laid across sawhorses make great temporary workbenches, but they take up a lot of space when you’re not using them. Instead of full-size doors, I use bifold doors with hinges so I can fold them up when I’m done working. They’re also easier to haul around in the pickup for on-the-road jobs. — Harry Steele.

What is Quarter-Sawn Lumber?

A board is considered “quarter-sawn” when the growth rings run, more or less, perpendicular to the face of the board. Quarter-sawn boards generally have straight grain and are less prone to shrinkage, compared to other boards. These factors don’t come into play with the 2x4s you use to frame a closet—but it does with the shelves and cabinetry you put into that closet; you want those boards to remain straight, flat and stable.

Some quarter-sawn boards, especially those of white oak, exhibit gorgeous rays or flecks; a hallmark of much Craftsman-style furniture. Because of their stability and beauty, quarter-sawn boards are often actively sought out by woodworkers—meaning they may also come with a heftier price tag.

Illustration by Melanie Powell, from “Woodworking FAQ” by Spike Carlsen (Story Publishing, 2012)

On-Hand Sandpaper Cutter

Cutting sandpaper is a quick way to dull your scissors or utility knife blade. Instead, I fastened a hacksaw blade to the edge of my workbench. I slipped a washer behind the blade at each of the mounting holes so a sheet of sandpaper to easily slides in behind the blade. I fold the paper where I want to cut, just as a reference. — Kim Boley.

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Make Your Own Table Saw Fence

This self-clamping table saw fence takes only seconds to put on and lets you crank the blade into the fence to create both angled cuts along board edges and extremely thin rip or rabbet cuts. With a hand- or jigsaw, cut pieces from a 1×4, making the inside width of the “L” a hair under the thickness of your saw’s fence. Drill 5/16-in. holes in the L-blocks and plywood fence and join them with two 1/4-in. x 3-in. countersunk machine screws, washers and Wing-Nuts. As always, use extra caution when you’re sawing without a blade guard. Our thanks for this new sawing angle to professional furniture maker George Vondriska.

That Glue is Still Good!

I recently wrote to the Borden company, asking what to do when their Elmer’s wood glue gets too thick to use. They wrote me back and suggested mixing in a drop or two of vinegar. It sounded like an old wives’ tale, but I tried it and found it really works.

Brilliant Miter Saw Stop

I use binder clips for a lot of things around the shop, and here’s one that I thought I’d share. When I need to make multiple cuts all the same length, I just clamp my jumbo binder clip to my fence and use a 1/4-in.-thick wood scrap pinched in the clip as a stop. Works like a charm! When it’s not in use, I clamp it to the cord so it’s always nearby.

Align Angles with Tape

Clamping mitered edges can be a real hassle because they never seems to line up correctly. The easiest way that I’ve found to get around this process is to use painter’s tape as clamps. First set the pieces so that the outer edges are facing up and tape them edge-to-edge. The flip the pieces over so the beveled edges are facing up and glue them together. Complete the process by taping the last two edges together and let sit until completed. The tape removes easily and the glue won’t attach to the tape, making sanding and finishing very simple.

Shelf Bracket to the Rescue

Brace skinny material on edge with this slick system. Clamp a shelf bracket to a workbench, stand the material on edge and then clamp it to the bracket. The clamp will hold the material, keeping your hands free for other operations. — Azha Jensen.

Transportation Flag Clamp

If you have to pick up long lengths of wood from the lumberyard, throw a spring clamp in the back of your vehicle. Use the clamp to attach the warning flag to the end of the protruding lumber. The clamp’s easy to slip on and off, and you won’t have to fuss around with staples, nails or string. — Steve Parker.

Hole Saw Drum Sander

Sanding the inside of a hole or curved surface can be difficult. To simplify that task, insert a 1/4 x 3-in. bolt into the pilot hole of a hole-saw cutout. Secure the bolt with a washer and nut. Using a hacksaw, cut a 1/4-in. deep slot in line with the bolt. Cut a piece of adhesive-backed sandpaper so that you can slide one end into the slot, wrap it around the cutout, and slide the other end back into the slot. Chuck the bolt into a drill, and you now have a homemade drum sander.

Hand Plane Hack

Here’s a way to joint or shape work pieces that are too small to hold in a vise. Flip a hand plane upside down and clamp it in your bench vise. Now you can pass the wood over the plane to joint the edge. — Matt Boley.

Shop-Made Finishing Standoffs

Tired of waiting for finish to dry on one side before finishing the other side? You can purchase standoffs, but it’s also really easy to make them yourself. Simply drive 2-in. drywall screws through 2-in. x 2-in. squares of 3/4-in. thick stock. The screw points will leave a divot in the finish that can be touched up later, but I always let the back side of my project rest on the screws while the finish dries. — Matt Boley.

Visual Aid for Sanding Even Surfaces

With an orbital sander and good sandpaper you can smooth wood evenly and easily with first-class results. When flush-sanding solid edge-banding, draw a squiggly line across the joint before sanding. The edge-banding will be slightly proud of the plywood veneer, so the pencil marks provide a visual aid to make sure that you’re sanding flat, and that you don’t sand through the plywood’s veneer. As you go, you can also test for a smooth, level transition by gently scraping your fingernails against the transition. If it’s smooth, your fingers will not catch on the seam between the two pieces

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Catch Wood Chips with PVC Pipe

My planer blasts shavings all over the shop floor. I decided to make my own dust chute from 4-in. PVC sewer pipe (which has thinner walls than regular Schedule 40 pipe) and a couple caps. I cut a slit in the pipe and used a heat gun to soften the plastic. That allowed me to open the slit. (Heating PVC releases fumes; ventilation is critical.) I then drilled holes in the flap and screwed it to the planer housing. Finally, I cut a 2-1/2- in. hole in one of the end caps to accept my shop vacuum hose. Works great! — Luis Arce.

Make Your Own Super-Strong Sandpaper

“I do a lot of finish-sanding freehand, without a sandpaper block, so I can smooth edges and get into nooks and crannies. But the finer grits are usually bonded to thinner paper and, at least for me, the paper is too thin and ends up tearing long before the grit wears out. So I apply duct tape to the back of the sandpaper. The sandpaper is still flexible enough to sand a tight radius and it’s far more durable. You can use this super-strong sandpaper like a shoeshine rag.” — Chuck Merchant

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Socket Sander

Sanding concave molding doesn’t have to be difficult. Find a deep socket that fits the contour of your molding. Wrap a piece of sand- paper around the socket and hold it in place with your fingers. Your sanding will be uniform and the delicate edges of the molding won’t round over. — Eric and Cheryl Weltlich.

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No Slipping, No Splinters

To prevent friction burns and splinters while sanding a curved tabletop, I put on a leather glove and wrapped painter’s tape around it, sticky side out. The tape kept the sandpaper from slipping, and the glove protected my hand. — Eliot Sennett.

Make a Stain Index

Hard to determine which stain you need in that bespattered collection of cans? An easy-to-make “stain index,” courtesy of reader Bob Jacek, solves the problem. Section off boards of your favorite woods into squares with masking tape, and apply the different stains across the width of each wood type (pine, oak, birch, etc.). When the stains are dry, brush on lengthwise your regular finishes—polyurethane, water-based polyurethane, oil, orange shellac, etc. You’ll be able to tell how each stain looks with each finish. Label each one. Use both sides of each board, and you’ll have a wooden encyclopedia of stain and finish combinations.

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Stretchy Clamps

Old bicycle inner tubes work great for clamping odd-shaped projects. I used them recently to hold the rungs secure in a set of chairs I glued up. Just knot the tube to the right size and then stretch it over. Set the chair on a flat surface as the glue dries. The tubes can handle jobs that conventional clamps just can’t. — Allen J. Muldoon

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Make a Mixing Block

I mix a lot of epoxy in small batches, but I’ve seldom had the right size container on hand. I solved this problem by drilling 1-1/2-in. holes in 2×4 scraps with a Forstner bit. The resulting shallow “cups” allow easy mixing without the risk of spilling. When the holes are used up, I just make a new mixing board. — Bill Wells.

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How to Clean Your Mini Drum Sander

When your rotary tool’s sanding drum gets clogged, refresh the surface with a rubber pencil eraser. Run the tool at low speed and press the eraser into the clogged drum to rub out the chips and gunk. Check out this pencil hack for perfectly flat boards.

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Super-Small Parts Sander

I’m 91 years old, but I still enjoy spending time in the woodshop. I like to make wooden toys and give them to my great-grandkids and charity groups. One trick I’ve learned over the years is to use emery boards—the kind for filing fingernails— to sand small parts. Emery boards come in different sizes, and some are more abrasive than others, so I keep an assortment on hand. — Joe Aboussleman

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Hole Saw Saver

Stuff your hole saw with a moist rag. It will not only keep your saw cooler and the teeth sharper but also extend the life of the saw. Remember to leave room for the depth of the piece of wood you’re cutting. When you’re finished, dry off the saw to prevent rust. — Scott Nugent.

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Use Concrete Forms for Scraps Storage

Short scraps of hardwood are too good to throw away but hard to store neatly. So I bought a 4-ft. tube form made for concrete footings, cut it in half (the cardboard-like material cuts easily) and set the tubes on end. I tack the tubes to a wall or a bench leg so they don’t fall over. With the wood scraps stored upright, it’s easy to find a piece just the right length. Tube forms are available in various diameters for $5 and up at home centers. — Bill Wells

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Need an Awl? Make One

Can awl of us find our awl when we need it? Grab an old, battered Phillips screwdriver and grind the tip into a sharp cone shape on a bench grinder. (Wear eye protection.) Now you have a heavy-duty awl for starting screws and finish nails right on the mark, and chipping dried glue from project corners.

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Mustard Bottle is Perfect for Glue

I no longer put up with the messy “over-designed” carpenter’s glue dispensers. Instead, I use old mustard bottles; they don’t clog and they easily reseal between uses. — Richard Painter.

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Pocket-Size Glue Spreaders

When face-gluing boards, use a credit card snipped along its wide edge with a pinking shears. The serrated “pinked” edge spreads the glue like a serrated trowel spreads mastic on floors. Thanks to reader Don Cox for this smooth tip.

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DIY Simple and Secure Sanding Block

Not happy with the selection of sanding blocks at the hardware store, I made a few of my own from hardwood scraps left over from a woodworking project. I cut each one to 3/4 in. x 1-1/2 in. x 4-1/2 in.—which is just the right size to wrap a quarter sheet of sandpaper around. And the “kerf” cut helps hold the sandpaper in place until I’m ready to change it. —Tim Olaerts.

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Sand Your Hands

Some types of wood filler can be hard to get off your hands after they dry, especially if you use your fingers to push it into small cracks and holes. When that happens, I reach for fine grit sandpaper and sand it off my fingers. It’s great for removing dried-on polyurethane glue and canned foam from your hands, too. — Chris James.

Trim Edge Banding with a Chisel

Iron-on edge-banding is a quick way to cover up an edge on plywood. Trimming the excess, however, is tricky. I’ve tried edge-banding trimmers, but I find the results are unpredictable. With the trimmers I’ve tried, it wasn’t easy to change the direction of the cut to suit the grain direction of the edge-banding. If you’re cutting against the grain, you’re likely to tear out a chunk of your new edge-banding. Instead, I use a wide, sharp chisel. This way, I can read the grain direction and trim accordingly. Angle the chisel slightly and go slow, raising the back corner of the chisel just enough so that it doesn’t dig into the plywood veneer. Smooth the corner with a sanding block after trimming.

Quick Miter Fix

Cutting a miter joint that closes up perfectly and maintains a 90 degree angle is really satisfying. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always happen. Here’s a quick fix for a slightly open miter joint; rub the shank of a screwdriver along the miter at a steep angle, from both sides of the joint. Chances are, you’ll be the only one that knows it wasn’t perfect to begin with.

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An Extra Hand for Cutting Sheet Goods

Here’s a safe and sound way to make long cuts with a circular saw on plywood clamped to a worktable. Cut about 12 in. into the plywood, then twist a piece of duct tape into a bow tie, with up-and-down adhesive faces. Slide it in the saw kerf and press the tape down above and under the plywood. Now as you finish the cut, the trailing end can’t curl down dangerously as you saw. Hats off to Mike Connelly for simplifying this job.

Sanding Station for Small Parts

Sanding small items is tricky, as they’re hard to clamp in a vise to work on them. So instead of bringing the sandpaper to the workpiece, I bring the workpiece to the sandpaper. I glue sheets of sandpaper to a piece of plywood; 60 and 100-grit on one side and 150 and 220-grit on the other. Spray adhesive works well for this. Since there’s sandpaper on both sides, my sanding board doesn’t slide around on the bench

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What is particleboard?

Particleboard is a manufactured wood product composed of sawdust, wood chips or wood shavings mixed with a resin. This concoction is layered, compressed, subjected to heat and cut to shape, resulting in a sheet material that can be used for a variety of things. It’s often used as shelving or as an underlayment for carpet. Plastic laminate may be applied to both sides to create a product that can be used to create everything from furniture to cabinets to wall paneling. Head into IKEA and you’ll find acres of particleboard.

There are a few things particleboard is NOT. It’s not medium density fiberboard (MDF)—a material with greater density and weight composed of more uniform particles. It’s NOT oriented strand board (OSB), a material composed of large wood chips and strands that’s structurally equivalent to plywood. It does NOT have great nail or screw holding ability, nor is it all that water resistant; water can quickly cause the material to swell and lose structural integrity. But if you need something flat and cheap for use in a dry place, particleboard will do you proud.

Poor Man’s Jointer

Lacking a jointer? Use reader Court Kites’ awesome tip to create perfectly matched glue joints on wavy or bowed board edges. Lay the boards on a flat surface, then clamp them across the middle with a bar clamp. Lay two 8-in. long by 1-3/4 in. wide scrap boards across each end and screw them in with four 1-1/4 in. long screws, two per board. Keep the screws well away from your future cutting line!

Set the table saw fence so the blade is centered on the seam, then push the whole thing through the saw. If the board edges are quite bowed or curvy, you may need a second pass. If so, unscrew the cleats, reclamp the boards across the middle center, then screw on the cleats again. The screws ding up the ends of the boards a little, so cut the boards you’re jointing a bit long, then trim 1/2 in. from each end to remove the screw holes.

Quick Fix for Dents

Dents in wood surfaces can be annoying. But fret not, they can be fixed. Simply soak a washcloth in water and ring it out a bit so it’s not sopping wet. Put the damp washcloth on the affected area. The water will wick through the wood, and that’s fine. Now, with your iron on its highest setting, place it on the damp washcloth over the affected area, and make small movements back and forth and in circles. Press down firmly and continue until your wash cloth is dry. It won’t take long to evaporate. At this point, the wood fibers are absorbing the water and should expand back to where they were originally. Continue this process and repeat by adding more water until the dents rise up to be flush with the rest of the material.

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What is Pocket Screw Joinery?

Pocket screw joinery is a system—employing special drill and driver bits—used to join boards or pieces of plywood to one another. Installing pocket screws involves using a jig to drill a sharply angled, 15-degree hole through the back of one board, then driving a special screw through that hole into the second board to draw them tightly together. It’s often used in cabinetmaking and furniture building. The term “pocket” comes from the design of the hole which contains an upper “pocket” for the head of the screw to push against; this pocket also hides the head of the screw.

Pocket screws create a solid, simple-to-make joint. Because of the size and visibility of the hole, it’s usually located in areas that are concealed or rarely seen (though special plugs can be used to fill the holes.) Craig Sommerfeld, founder of The Kreg Tool Company, is credited with popularizing pocket screw joinery in the 1980s. The company today is the leader in creating the jigs, clamps and screws used to create pocket screw joints.

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Sanding Pad Replacement

The rubber cushion on my old palm sander was wearing thin around the edges. Because of its age, I couldn’t find a replacement pad. As I was drinking my beverage with a foam can cover around it, I realized I could cut the foam to fit the sander and glue it on. I peeled off the old pad, cleaned the metal base and attached the foam with contact cement. Works for clamp-on as well as stick-on sanding squares! You can find can covers at discount and convenience stores. — Allen J. Muldoon

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Make a Portable Bench Vise

Instead of permanently mounting my 6-in. vise to a workbench, I attached it to scrap plywood so I can clamp it wherever I need it. Stack two pieces of 3/4-in. plywood and screw them together with 1-1/4 in. drywall screws. Mark the vise-mounting holes on the plywood and drill 3/4-in. guide holes through both pieces. Recess the nut by drilling through the bottom sheet with a 1-in. spade bit using the 3/4-in. hole as a guide. Fasten the vise to the plywood with bolts sized to match the vise-mounting holes. If the bolt shafts are too long, cut them off with a hacksaw.

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No-Slip Sandpaper

Whenever I use sandpaper sheets that are folded in half, the sandpaper slides on itself as I sand. To solve the problem, I just spray a light coat of contact adhesive on the back of the sheet. Once it has air-dried for a couple minutes, I fold the sheet in half for a permanent bond. Works like a charm. — Brian Flynn.

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How to Renew Old Epoxy

A while back, I reached for my two containers of epoxy and noticed that the resin in one container had crystallized exactly like honey that’s been in the cupboard too long. The solution is exactly the same too: Set the container in a bowl of hot tap water. After about 15 minutes, I emptied the container and refilled it with hot water. After about a half hour, the epoxy regained its normal consistency. Good as new. — Ken Holte

Simple Plywood Cutting Station

When cutting full sheets with my circular saw, I use plastic shelving units as sawhorses. The height is just right and by using three of them, I can make cuts in any direction and the plywood is fully supported. And because the shelving units are made of plastic, I can cut right into them without worrying that they’ll damage my saw blade. — John Tinger.

Spare Glue Bottles from the Recycling Bin

Here’s a nifty tip—with a nifty tip—from faithful reader Don Ayers: Fill snap-capped sports water bottles with glue and stick them upside down in a hunk of 2×6. Now you don’t have to wait for the glue to run into the neck of the bottle, and the cap will control glue flow (and never get lost). To holster the glue dispensers, cut holes in the base with a spade bit that’s a smidgen larger than the cap’s diameter.

P.S. Be sure to snap the lid closed before returning the bottle to the base. Otherwise the whole bottleful of glue will run out! The snap-cap makes an airtight seal and controls bead size when you squeeze.

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