#my life has fallen apart in the last 6 months

[scarlettkat86]

Sinister Strange

I want more of him

#sinister strange #doctor strange #multiverse of madness #doctor strange fanart #art by me #benedict cumberbatch #my life has fallen apart in the last 6 months #but I'm here #and focusing on things i enjoy #might go back and add the third eye later?

[sugolara]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Feat. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

A series. Book One

cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, updates thursday/sunday, slow burn, cross-posted on ao3, wattpad, qoutev

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ˗ After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge.

Inspired by, ''The Walking Dead''

(ongoing)

playlist!

" Space Junk - Wang Chung " Wolf - First Aid Kit " Into The Black - Chromatics " My Life In Rewind - Eagulls " Hush - Trills " Bad Before Good - Dayone " Run Boy Run - Woodkid " You're So Cool - Jonathan Bree " So Bored - Gorgeous Bully " Operations - Duster " Blue Light - Mazzy Star " Civilian - Wye Oak " Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers " Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses " Skyfall - Adele " Struggling Man - Emily Kinney (original: Jimmy Cliff) " The Last Pale Light In The West - Ben Nichols " Up The Wolves - The Mountain Goats " Blackbird Song - Lee DeWyze " Be Gone Dull Cage - Kiev " Into Dust - Mazzy Star " Warm Shadow - Fink " Tomorrow Is a Long Time - Bob Dylan " Poison Tree - Grouper " Rhymes Of An Hour - Mazzy Star " You Are The Wilderness - Voxhaul Broadcast " Running - Delta Spirit " People, Turn around - Delta Spirit " The Lion's Roar - First Aid Kit " Pain - Boy Harsher " The Setup - Favored Nations " The Old Death - Ben Nichols " Revolution - Red Shahan " The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana " Beautiful Mess - Balian " The Day The World Went Away - Nine Inch Nails " Mr. Splitfoot - Paris Motel " Empty Words - Bowery Electric " No Longer Making Time - Slowdive " Step Away from the Cliff - Blue-Eyed Son " Paradise - Silverberg " Take Care (To Comb Your Hair) - Ty Segall " Glad I Had a Friend - Galt MacDermot " Machine Gun - Portishead " Shadows of Planes - Duster " No Peace at All - Aldous Harding " Save Us from Ourselves - Digital Daggers " I'm No Heroine - Emily Wells " Salt in the Wound - Delta Spirit " It's All Right - Sam Cooke " To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra " 6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps " Edge Of The World - Dayshell " Bye Bye Bye - School of Seven Bells " Arsonist Lullaby - Hozier " It's All Over - Johnny Cash " The Stars Just Blink For Us - Say Hi " Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division " Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Guns N' Roses " Runnin' Down a Dream - Tom Petty " Fly Like An Eagle - Steve Miller Band " You Are Not Alone - Mavis Staples " Welcome - Harmonia & Eno ‘76’ " Hope We Can Again - Nine Inch Nails " outside - Oneheart " sleepless - Odyzon " Alesund - Sun Kil Moon " Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd " Don Abandons Alice - John Murphy " Wicked Game - Chris Isaak " Rule of Rose OST - Playing Airship " 1908 - Repulsive " I Shall Cross This River - The Black Atlantic " Easy Way Out - Low Roar

table of contents:

Season 1: Episode 1: Begin Episode 2: Not alone Episode 3: Gone but not forgotten Episode 4: You belong in this world Episode 5: Because all life is precious Episode 6: Musutafu, we'll meet again Episode 7: Izuku: I'd always thought there be more time

Season 2: Episode 8: During these two weeks Episode 9: Diopside, like your eyes Episode 10: For the first time in a long time Episode 11: Almost complete Episode 12: Determined to survive, stay alive Episode 13: Fear Episode 14: Katsuki: You are going to beat this world

Season 3: Episode 15: Away with you Episode 16: Three months ago Episode 17: Slowly withering away Episode 18: Don't die, not yet Episode 19: How long before I’m alone Episode 20: Nothing else to lose Episode 21: Shoto: Everything you would be will be gone

Season 4: Episode 22: Trouble Episode 23: For however long that'll be Episode 24: Searching Episode 25: The fallen city Episode 26: Stay who you are Episode 27: All together Episode 28: F/n: With you beside me

Season 5: Episode 29: Here Episode 30: Cruel Episode 31: Too loud Episode 32: Back on road Episode 33: All is lost Episode 34: Safe in your arms Episode 35: And so it begins Episode 36: At stake Episode 37: Sorry or whatever Episode 38: Familiar eyes

Season 6: Episode 39: A relief Episode 40: Upcoming trouble Episode 41: Never to easy Episode 42: To good for death Episode 43: Old memories Episode 44: A stroke of luck Episode 45: Be aware Episode 46: Bait Episode 47: A thump in my heart Episode 48: Belong to me Episode 49: One step closer (Towards you)

Season 7: Episode 50: Sorston Episode 51: Tenderness Episode 52: Here to stay Episode 53: The start Episode 54: Crushed Episode 55: Reporting to duty Episode 56: Good morning and goodbye Episode 57: An end to sorrow, grief & regret Episode 58: On the move Episode 59: Confirmation Episode 60: The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

Season 8: Episode 61: Not who you were Episode 62: Just you and me Episode 63: The Plaza Episode 64: The other side Episode 65: To be ready Episode 66: You're here Episode 67: So long, my dear

to be continued...

Book two: To The One You Left Behind

taglist: @mikeyswifie @k0z3me @sky-angel101 @stevenknightmarc @nahwajinswhore @mn-0p @a-helen113 @azrral @mary-jinx @chixkadee @flowers-4-you

#bnha shoto x reader #bnha tomura #bnha deku #bnha midoriya #bnha dabi #bnha class 1a #mha shouto x reader #mha denki #mha ochaco #mha bakugou #mha #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #mha izuku #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #mha midoriya #izuku midoriya #midoriya x y/n #shoto todoroki #shoto x you #todoroki shoto x reader #sugolara! #welcome to the new world

[theaspsaroaceimagines]

Can We Make This Work?

Warning: spoilers for episode 6

A/N: This was requested on wattpad and is tangentially related to my fic, An Angel in Demon's Clothing, but takes place in a separate continuity.

The reader is a mortal angel who volunteered to go to Hell to help with Charlie's redemption project. Charlie and Vaggie are the only ones in Hell who know the reader is an angel, and the reader's mission is a secret that Adam and Lute don't know about.

Song is from Journey to Bethlehem.

--

You'd returned to the Hotel earlier than the others, overwhelmed by Consent's loud music and bright lights.  Not to mention the many, many flirtatious demons making passes at you.  So you were the only one around when Charlie and Vaggie returned from their meeting.

They returned a bit sooner than you would have thought they would.  That's the first red flag.

"You're back early!" you observe, puzzled, and approach the two demonesses slowly.

Immediately, Charlie distances herself from Vaggie, a look of panic and betrayal in her eyes.  "Why didn't you tell me you were an angel?  An exorcist?!" she wails.

You blink in shocked silence.  Vaggie is an angel?  Why hadn't you met her before you came down here?

Vaggie tries to approach Charlie, holding her hands out in a soothing gesture, but the demon princess only backs away.

Slowly, you shake yourself out of your stupor.  "Wait, what's going on?  Why are you guys back so early?"

The two shoot their gazes to you, as if they'd only just noticed your presence.  Vaggie looks anxious and somewhat defeated, and Charlie is nothing short of distressed.  Charlie runs to you, crushing you in a desperate hug, before dragging you up to the Hotel's penthouse suite.

Leaving Vaggie behind.

You're growing more concerned by the second.  "Charlie, what happened?" you ask, stumbling beside her as she continues to cling to you.

She bursts into tears, gripping you tighter.  "They wouldn't listen!" she sobs, "Adam wouldn't listen!  Vaggie's an exorcist and has been lying to me this whole time!"  She releases you, turning to pace around the suite in a tearful panic.  "And the meeting was a disaster!  The Angels don't even know what it takes to get into Heaven! And now the extermination is in a month, and Adam says he's coming for the Hotel first!"

The last bit of news shakes you to the core and you blanch.  "What?  Why?  Why would he do that?!  Is he even allowed to make targeted attacks?"  You try to calm yourself.  Panicking won't help, Charlie needs you calm.

You hear a thump, and whip your head around to see that Charlie has fallen to her knees by one of the windows.

"How could I be," she sings in a soft, defeated voice, "Oh, so naive?"  She wipes at her face with her sleeve as you approach to try to comfort her.

"Foolishly thinking there's more to this life for me," She tearfully looks out the window with a doleful expression as it begins to acid rain on the hellscape below, before glancing back at you.  "Two broken hearts," she lilts, holding a loose fist to her chest, "Right from the start,"

She turns away from the window and curls up in dejection, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms over them, "Watching the dreams that we have as they fall apart,"

You pause in your efforts, hit with the overwhelming emotion emanating from the princess you've come to know as your friend.

"This will never work," her voice sounds almost bitter as she sings, burying her face into her knees, "Even trying feels insane.  This will only hurt,"

She turns her head, looking at you expectantly, "Don't you feel the same?"

You sigh.  "I feel it too," you admit, joining her in song and making the last few steps to her side, "But what can I do?"

You kneel down next to her, gazing at her from the corner of your eye, "I'm just the stranger they say is the one for you,"

"Maybe with time," you sing, taking Charlie's hand in yours, thinking about Adam, your home in Heaven, and the second home you have in Hell, "Something will change?   Making the best of this might be the only way.

"Can we make this work?" you stand, gently helping Charlie up as you do.  Looking out the window yourself, you take in the oddly beautiful landscape of Hell.  

Charlie joins in and the two of you sing together: "Even trying feels insane."

"Maybe when it hurts," your eyes and voice harden with determination.  Things seem grim, but you aren't giving up on your mission.  Both Heaven and Hell depend on it.  You turn to face Charlie, "We'll be worth the pain."

"There are too many questions, Too little time," Charlie points out.  "Too much to ask for, The rest of my life."

You join in with her in agreement, both of you singing, "It's a mountain too high to climb,

"Too many voices filling me with doubt," the two of you can hear them: Adam, Lute, Alastor, the newscasters at 666 News, Sera, even your first patient, Angel Dust.  "Can you hear them now?"

"It's hard to have faith," you admit.

"It's hard to believe," Charlie agrees.

"Our future holds more Than what we can see," you sing together.

You take Charlie's hands, "We have to trust what we don't understand," you resolve, and Charlie joins in;

"It could be a part of God's plan."

"Can we," you sing, pulling Charlie into a dance, hoping to encourage her.

"Can we," Charlie echoes, falling into step.

"Make this,"

"Make this,"

"Work?" you finish together, before twirling around,  "I know trying feels insane."

"Maybe," you lead the princess of Hell in graceful steps, freeing your true angelic wings.  They give off a silvery shine as the two of you dance together.

"Maybe," you can see the stars, feel the cosmos.

"When it," 

"When it," God's Plan would come together with time.

"Hurts," the two of you sing with resolve, "We'll be worth the pain!"

"Can we make this work?" you pull Charlie into a hug as the two of you wrap up the song, "Can we make this work?"

You tuck your true wings away as you end your dance, sending Charlie a gentle smile as their light disappears.

"We'll get through this," you tell her, "I don't know how yet, but we'll get through this."

"Okay," Charlie breathes.

"We should talk to Vaggie," you give a gentle suggestion, "I didn't know she was an angel, either; I've never met her in my time in Heaven, but I'm sure she had an at least somewhat good reason to hide it.  Besides, she's probably having a rough time right now."

"You're probably right," Charlie admits reluctantly.

You give her a wry smile, "Come on, there's no way to fix this without communication."

So you and the princess of Hell leave the suite with a new resolve.

#hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #platonic reader insert #charlie & reader

[sigritandtheelves]

All Along, Like Fire (Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Mature | 2.9k words | MSR, AU

A/N: I’m sorry this part took so long, I’ve been working at it bit by bit for like 2 months 😣

—

September, 1995

Washington D.C.

Diana Fowley knew that her life was in danger. She’d failed in monumental fashion, and she could insist to her dying breath that it hadn’t been her fault—that Fox’s stumbling onto the DAT tape happened while she was out of town and there’s nothing she could have done to stop it, but it wouldn’t matter. They would crush her like an empty soda can if she ceased to be useful, and especially if she proved a liability instead.

The city was under a late-summer heat wave that made the air feel even thicker than the tension around her alone. Violence seemed imminent as tempers so easily flared with the temperature. Diana paced the apartment she shared with Fox, a man that she told herself she still loved, despite the lies between them: her secrets, his shifting devotions. His basketball peeked out from the closet and his dirty clothes were in the hamper. Diana picked up one of his shirts and fingered the ratty collar above its FBI logo. She held it to her nose and felt a wave of sadness, of longing. He was a good man, and she’d lost him, let him slip away from both herself and the project she’d hoped he would come to embrace. But in the last year, the deceptions had become too much. She’d had to spend more and more time away in order to live with herself, and after the plan for Scully’s abduction had backfired, she knew that he had crossed some kind of invisible barrier. He would never be hers again. Everything she had done to try and put a wedge between him and his partner had only drawn them closer together.

Diana had a right to be jealous, didn’t she? In spite of her lies? At least she hadn’t fallen in love with someone else. She sat on the bed worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She knew she’d lost her husband, but perhaps she could still make it through this with her life.

What she needed was leverage.

—

Farmington, NM

The public library had three computers connected to the internet for public use. Mulder and Scully sat huddled around one of them, carefully wording an email to the Gunmen from a temporary account.

“Where should we meet?” Mulder kept his voice low.

“I don’t want to put the Hosteens in any more danger,” Scully said. “Maybe Albuquerque?” She oriented herself to the map in her head. “Or we could head north into Colorado.”

Mulder nodded. “Yeah. Get the map.”

They decided on a tourist town called Pagosa Springs, where they could blend in like late-season vacationers. “Hey, if things go downhill, we can always hide out in the mountains,” Mulder said.

“Too bad I forgot to pack my skis.”

He smiled at her, but it was only a half-smile. They both knew how dangerous this was—how much was a stake. They had aligned all their pieces on the board, and now it was the other team’s turn. He just hoped Skinner was really on their side.

—

FBI Headquarters

Everybody wanted a damned meeting, had a plan, had a dog in this fight, it seemed. Walter Skinner was giving himself a headache with all this jaw clenching. He was everyone’s middleman, though he was just as vulnerable to the powers circling them all like sharks. This playing field was full of snares and trapdoors.

“Agent Fowley, you said you had reason to believe your life was in jeopardy? Why not go to your own AD about this?”

The woman seated across from his desk maintained perfect composure, but cleared her throat before answering. “My work has put me in a somewhat compromised position—something I’m sure you can understand, Sir.”

The eyes were so deliberate. Skinner frowned, not liking either her implications or the fact that she seemed to have a lot more information than he realized. “How do you mean?”

“I’m afraid that Fox’s acquisition of the D.O.D files has put more than a few lives at risk, my own included. I was out of town when the DAT tape was handed over to him, but certain… factions,” she paused to choose her words carefully, “seem to think I can be held accountable.” Again, she looked directly at him. “They’re willing to set more than an underground train fire to keep that information in check.”

Another jaw clench. That cigarette smoking bastard had been in here again today trying to weasel information out of him, and Skinner had no doubt that there would be more bodies if the tape, and the information on it, didn’t reappear soon. “I didn’t realize you were involved at all,” he said.

“Not with the tape directly, but it’s been made clear to me that I need to protect it,” she said cryptically. “I have to get in touch with Fox. It’s essential that I arrange a meeting soon.”

Skinner grunted. “Well, you’re in luck on that front.”

Diana’s eyebrows raised. “You know where he is?”

“Not exactly, but I know someone who does.” He eyed the brunette suspiciously—so cool, always—and wondered if it were safe to bring her to a meeting with her own husband. It was a risk he thought he'd have to take if they were going to make any kind of bargain. “Meet me at Dulles tomorrow morning at the United counter. Seven o’clock.”

Diana nodded briskly and stood. “Thank you, sir.”

—

Pagosa Springs, CO

Mulder and Scully sat at the back of Brenda’s Diner, which looked like the kind of restaurant Cracker Barrel was trying to be. The tables were glass-covered wagon wheels, and there were more than a few cowboy hats between their booth and the door. The two agents barely looked away from the entrance to sip their coffees.

“There,” Mulder said when he spotted Skinner’s bald head and glasses. Then he stiffened when he saw the brunette with him. “Shit.” He reached under the table to quickly squeeze Scully’s knee. “Diana is with him.”

Scully forced herself to breathe deeply, to keep her anger tucked inside her, despite everything they now knew. She watched Mulder’s face as Diana approached, as he bottled his own rage into a careful mask.

Skinner spoke first, nodding at them and sliding into the booth. “Agents.”

Diana reached out to touch Mulder’s arm. “Hello, Fox.”

He didn’t meet her gaze or reciprocate her touch, but instead focused on his boss. Diana glanced at Scully only long enough to take note of her husband’s protective position and body language toward the other woman. She sat beside Skinner, and the wooden table was like a vast ocean between the two parties.

“First,” Mulder began, “you should know that we’ve read everything in the files.” He looked pointedly at Diana, who paled, but to her credit, didn’t flinch.

Skinner nodded. “I had assumed as much, based on your prolonged absence.”

“But we're not the only ones who have read it. If their plan is to kill us, all of that information will go public. We have multiple contingencies in place.”

"And you don't think the men we're dealing with could hunt all of those down?"

"No," Mulder said, displaying a confidence he was only half sure he felt. "Not all of them."

The older man grunted in acknowledgement.

“We want to go home,” Scully explained. “And we want to keep our jobs. But there are things we learned from that tape that we can’t pretend we don’t know. Personal things.”

Skinner cleared his throat, as if to speak, but Diana beat him to it. “I realize that you’ll want to distance yourself as much as you can from me,” she said to Mulder specifically, her eyes pleading, "Especially after the things you read." She couldn't bring herself to look at his partner. “But I can also help you make your bargain with them.”

Mulder had tried to keep his calm, but his anger bubbled up beyond his self-control. “Diana, why are you here?” he asked in a sharp whisper. “Are you representing the project’s interests? You’re gonna take our bargaining chips back to that smoking son-of-a-bitch so he can twist us around even further?”

“No.” Her voice was firm and steady; she had her own anger to contend with. “You don’t know what they have on me, Fox. You don’t know what they threatened me with, how I worked to keep you safe—keep you alive—by stopping you from knowing too much.”

Mulder’s jaw dropped open for a moment before he barked out a humorless laugh. “So that was your role in this sham of a marriage? Gatekeeper of what I was allowed to know?”

“Partially,” she said, perfectly frank. “Their plan was to bring you in slowly.”

“Bring him in?” Skinner asked.

“To the project. He’d always been slated to take his father’s place.” She locked eyes with Mulder, and there was something pleading and earnest in her gaze. “Fox, whatever you may think about the things you read—about me and about the project—no matter how horrible they sound, you have to know that the goal has always been to save humanity. The project has always been about helping people survive.”

“Which people?” Scully asked, her voice sharp. “The women you abducted and rendered infertile? The children and family members you took as collateral? Or the hapless people you’ve tortured and experimented on in the name of ‘progress’? How are you any different than the Nazi scientists you’ve collaborated with?”

“I’m not the devil here,” Diana said quietly. “I didn’t devise these methods or decide who would suffer.”

“No, you just carried out their orders,” Mulder said. Their voices were hushed, but some restaurant patrons had noticed the tension at their table. Mulder sat back and took a sip of his coffee.

“Look,” Skinner said, “we could argue about this all afternoon, but we need to decide—“

“Tell me about the babies,” Scully interrupted, unable to contain the question any longer, to let the conversation move too far away from her burning need to know. “The children. Do I—“ her voice caught. “Are there babies out there with my—“ and she couldn’t finish.

“Yes,” Diana said. “Just one viable specimen at the moment, an eight-month-old in California.”

The breath went out of her lungs, and Scully squeezed her napkin so hard, it was shredding to pieces. Specimen. The word was like a hot fist crushing her heart. Mulder’s face had gone grey, and even Skinner looked stricken. Her baby—genetically, at least. An experiment. A specimen.

“Is it… okay?” This from Mulder, who was also trying to find words. Scully heard the subtext in his voice: is it human?

Diana fidgeted, like she didn’t have time for this, like she wanted to talk about more important things. How she’d weasel out of this situation with her own life, for example. She sighed. “Yes, for the most part. It’s a girl.”

“What do you mean for the most part?” Scully asked. It’s a girl, it’s a girl, it’s a girl, she heard over and over in her head. She couldn’t help it: she thought of pink blankets and solemn blue eyes looking out of a round face. At eight months the baby would be crawling, smiling, almost pulling herself to stand. Then Scully imagined cold surgical gloves reaching down to pick up the child and hold her with curiosity and detachment instead of love, to poke her with needles and test her in a cold white place.

“The child has an induced condition that manifests as a form of anemia. She requires regular treatment from a specialist.” Diana’s voice was deadpan, but Mulder and Scully both caught what she was saying. A “specialist,” meaning a project doctor. They locked eyes in understanding.

Skinner, however, was confused. “Induced condition? What does that mean?”

Mulder turned to him, his voice low. “They made her sick on purpose,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and Diana said nothing to either confirm or deny.

“So they can keep her on a leash,” Scully added. “So they can keep anyone who tries to love her on a leash.” She looked across the table and met Diana’s eyes. The fury inside her was grounding her, keeping her still, like ice-water, but inside she was screaming. “Isn’t that right?”

Diana gave the barest of nods and looked down at her hands. Silence around the table grew heavy, broken only when their waitress came to refill their coffee cups. The woman must have sensed the awkwardness, because she left without a word.

“I want what they took from me,” Scully said after a long moment. “All of it. Every strand of my DNA, even the ones in your specimen.”

With that, she stood and walked out of the restaurant.

—

Outside, back to the setting sun over the San Juan mountains, Scully leaned against the hood of their rental car. She wanted a cigarette. Barring that, she wanted to smash something into pieces and scream into the wind. But when Mulder came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, she just deflated. Her head drooped, and she stared at the dust and rock of the parking lot that flecked her leather boots.

“You okay?”

She shrugged one shoulder, not sure she could ever really be okay again. “What did Skinner say?”

Mulder had shoved his hands into his pockets, but he leaned his left side along the length of hers—a gesture of comfort that maintained the boundary between them. “He said they’re going to want a deal. Well,” he clarified, “Diana explained that our silence wouldn’t be enough, not if you really want… everything back.”

Scully reached up and touched the scar at the back of her neck. “They already have me on a leash too, don’t they? What else could they want?”

There was a long pause, and when Mulder didn’t answer, she looked up at him. He had a look of far-off anguish, of dread.

“Mulder.”

He chewed his lip for a moment, and then said, “My work.”

Oh. Scully swallowed hard. So the price for the truth was the power to do anything with it—the power to prosecute these men, to hold them accountable. “Your badge, too?”

He shook his head. “Just the files.”

Scully nodded. “They mean to drive us apart, then.”

She felt him turn to look at her in the dimming light. “What do you mean?”

The breeze coming from the mountain chilled her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “They know I could never ask you to do that, Mulder. Or they should know it. If you give up your work, our work, you’ll come to resent me, if you don’t already.”

He tried to speak, but Scully cut him off.

“And if you let them keep my…” She couldn’t say future children, couldn’t say baby. “…ova,” she swallowed, “and everything they create from them in exchange for the X-Files…”

“How could you ever stay with me?”

She nodded again. “The thing is, I don’t even want children right now. That wasn’t on my radar, not for a while, anyway, because I have so much other work to do. I’m committed to our work too, Mulder, and I know it’s not compatible with a baby. I mean, maybe in a few years but…” She was rambling, but God, it was impossible, wasn’t it? Every choice seemed wrong, seemed designed to push them apart and alter their lives irrevocably. She chuffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess they’ve kind of won, haven’t they?” She couldn’t look at him, imagining the gears churning his thoughts into a steady resentment toward her.

He was shaking his head. He didn’t want it to be true any more than she did, but they were only two people standing against a tidal wave of power and corruption. “They can’t have won,” Mulder said, but his voice came out defeated.

She looked toward the restaurant, where she assumed Skinner and Diana were waiting for their reply, two sore thumbs in their east-coast suits drinking tepid coffee. “How long do we have to decide?”

“Diana said we should make a call tonight. They know where we are now. We need to play our hand while we can.”

Scully wanted to tell him that he should decide, that he should take this terrible decision away from her and leave her alone to lick her wounds. But of course that wouldn’t be fair to him. She watched his face, silhouetted by the setting sun, and ached for him, for things to have been different between them—no conspiracies or wives or impossible ethical dilemmas. When he looked at her, met her eyes, she thought she felt the same ache coming off him in waves.

“I love you,” he said without warning, and it made her heart skip and slam against her ribcage—warm and unexpected. “I could never resent you for wanting back what they stole from you. Never.”

Scully felt tears filling her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek to try to stop them from falling. “Okay,” she said, voice raspy.

“I love you,” he told her again. She was trying to believe him, beginning to, maybe. He reached out a hand to hold her cheek, and it almost undid her. She sucked in a quick breath, a half sob, and a tear escaped down her cheek. He wiped it with his thumb.

Her fingers found his against her cheek, and she turned her head just slightly to kiss his palm. Though he’d said it first, she was terrified to tell him how she felt. But now was the time for bravery, for playing their hands, wasn’t it? Scully closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his skin on hers. “I love you,” she told him back.

He let out a breath into the cooling air that brushed her face. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.” He leaned his forehead down to touch hers. “They won’t force us apart, Scully. We’ll find another way.”

Despite all her rational objections and her skeptical nature, she believed him.

—

End Chapter 6

Go to Part 7

#a thing i wrote #all along like fire #xf fanfic #msr #au #part 6

[acrolius]

someone please write my steve as djo au!!

it's just rattling around in my brain and it won't leave. just two hyperfixations smashed together

here we go:

the early 90s (about 6 years after the events of season 4) finds steve living in chicago. steve is the last one to leave hawkins. the kids graduate from high school and they, along with nancy and robin, leave the small, traumatized town for college, cities or states away. without the party, there is nothing left in hawkins for steve except a lousy minimum wage job and an empty house that his parents never visit. joyce and hopper moving is what finally gets him to let go.

the nightmares and the anxieties never fully leave him, even after he has left their birthplace. the interdimensional threats may be gone but the scars they left remain jagged and raw. will can't walk alone in the dark, max can't walk at all, and steve pulls away from everyone who tries to help. he sees the kids every few months and talks with dustin on the phone every week. he hasn't seen eddie since eddie left town just months after the dust settled.

in his grief, he finds music. it's something a therapist suggests, to externalize his thoughts and let them live elsewhere. if it worked for for eddie, why can't it work for him? his parents forced him to learn piano as a child, another box to check in their picture perfect family, but he hasn't played for himself in years. he finds a keyboard at a thrift store a few days later. it's scratched up and some of the keys are sticky, but it's all he can afford with his meager salary. his parents cut him off years ago, with harsh words and a slap to the face of their disappointment of a son. as his fingers brush over the plastic keys, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. he closes his eyes and plays.

he likes the lyricism of music, once the words leave his head, they don't just belong to him. steve the musician feels different from steve the local bookseller with ptsd and a scrungly cat. hawkins was a small town, but no one knows him in chicago. the anonymity feels freeing. he can be honest because no one is watching.

he writes "chateau" about the calm that was the summer after vecna was defeated. they were finally safe and it felt like he had an actual family for once in his life. but like everything else in his life, it didn't last. eddie was the first to leave. steve had already fallen head over heels for eddie, but now he couldn't tell him. eddie would never be happy in hawkins and steve just couldn't leave. in a choice between his happiness and eddies, he would pick eddie's every time. they were never super close, but with the distance they drift apart.

robin, after listening to him every day in their shared apartment, tricks him into performing live for the first time. she signs him up for an open mic night at a local bar and lets him know by slamming the flier down on their wobbly kitchen table. "do you have plans for friday night? yes? cancel them."

friday nights at the bar becomes steve's night. none of his friends except robin know about his music but the bar regulars greet him with kind smiles each week. it's refreshing to play for strangers, people who don't know who he is and what he's been through.

his anonymity comes to a halt one week when eddie, fellow resident of chicago, happens to choose a new bar to visit. steve is at the keyboard, turned away from the entrance, when eddie walks in for a beer. it's not what eddie normally listens to but he's drawn to the emotion and beauty in the man's voice. imagine his surprise when the man finally turns and it's steve harrington.

. . . then you know, they reconnect, eddie slowly falls in love with steve in return and they live their gay little lives together

anyway, this is all the result of a long speech to text note on my phone. i have listened to djo's music on repeat and have djo!steve hcs for nearly all of them

#djo!steve #joe kerry is all around fantastic #musician!steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield uses a wheelchair #max mayfield #im so sorry this is long i couldnt find the continue reading separator

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Set Me Free Part 6/15

Part 7 and 8 are already out on my Patreon for Free!

+18

Ruben and Carla have grown apart. With Rubens career taking off he leaves Portugal to live the life of his dreams, breaking Carla's heart doing so. Years later, upon his return home, Ruben learns that Carla has moved on, happily engaged to another man, but not any man, Ruben's childhood bully João Mendes.

Enjoy!

Christmas, three years ago,

It was still early in the morning. However, Carla's father entered the kitchen to see his daughter already up and about.

"Carla, what's this?"

His eyes widened at the state of the room. Wrapping paper lay tossed onto the kitchen floor, along with men's shoes and clothing.

"Pai, you're up! Good morning."

Carla barely threw her father a second glance, as she was too invested in the activity of wrapping more gifts.

"What has happened to my kitchen?" Her father exclaimed. All he wanted was to make a fresh cup of coffee. But how on earth would he even make it to the kitchen counter with all the unwrapped items on the floor?

"Oh, sorry." Carla said. "I'll clean it up once I'm done."

"But querida, why are you wrapping more gifts? I thought your mother already put everything under the tree last night?"

"Yes, but those gifts are for uncle Martin and aunt Carolina."

"But my dear, why do you feel the need to spoil your cousin this way? I thought we all agreed to cover your cousin's tuition fee for flight attendant school as a Christmas present this year?"

"Pai," Carla chuckled. "These gifts aren't for Maria."

He scratched his head. "No, who are they for then?"

"They're for Ruben."

"Dias?"

"Yes."

Carla had been so excited leading up to Christmas. She hadn't seen Ruben in months since her decision to move back home from England. Their talks over the phone just wouldn't do anymore, so when Ruben told her that he was coming home for Christmas, Carla was simply over the moon, rushing to buy him gifts.

"Carla?" Her father said, clearing his throat. He had fallen silent for a moment, regarding his daughter with a troubled expression. "Are you sure he is coming?"

"Of course." She chuckled. "Ruben is coming for Christmas, he said so himself."

"When?"

"What do you mean?"

Carla paused the gift wrapping, noticing the look on her father's face.

He cleared his throat once more.

"When did he tell you that he was coming, since neither your mother and I have been informed."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so wrapped up in buying him gifts that it must have slipped my mind to tell you."

"I see." Her father muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He waved.

"No, tell me dad. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing querida, I just don't want you to be disappointed again."

Carla's parents were accepting of her and Ruben's decision to try long distance, however, it wasn't the first time that Ruben promised to come visit for the holidays but ultimately failed to follow through. And each time left Carla heartbroken, leaving her family to pick up the pieces.

"Dad, don't worry. Ruben has been very busy lately, I told you how life was when I was living with him in Manchester. However, he is coming home for Christmas" She assured. "He is probably in the air on his way here as we speak."

Carla's father sighed but cleared a path as he made his way across the kitchen. He patted his daughter's head, planting a soft kiss on top of it. "Okay, querida. If you say so. Your mother and I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"I won't be Pai, don't worry"

Worry.

Days passed and Ruben was nowhere to be seen. Carla was a nervous wreck, constantly checking her phone for any sign of him. She was starting to worry that he had changed his mind again. Christmas Eve was about to be Christmas day. After spending the day helping her family feed the less fortunate, Carla took it upon herself to drive to Ruben's to see if he for some reason had gone over there without notifying her. Perhaps he was jet lag, exhausted from his two hour flight from Manchester to Portugal.

"Senhora Dias?"

"Senhora Dias?"

It was all in vain. Ruben's parents' house was found empty, their car gone from the driveway. Carla was starting to feel a bit embarrassed, having once again fallen for Ruben's empty promises. Carla didn't know how much of it she could take anymore. Maintaining a long distance relationship was simply tearing her apart from the inside out.

"Carla? What's the matter?"

Carla returned after taking the long way home, her car radio on full blast to tune out her sobbing.

"H...he's not coming, is he?" She sniffled, terrifying her mother at the door.

"Minha querida."

Carla's lips tremble from holding back the  tears. Her mother was quick to pull her into the house and in for a hug. The rest of her family were poking their heads out from the living room to see what's the matter.

But then, the doorbell rang.

"It's him!"

Carla's heart skipped a beat as she rushed to the door, hoping against hope that it was Ruben. And when she opened the door, there he was, standing tall and handsome in his full grown beard, like her very own Santa Claus.

Ruben had a big smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, babe," he said, sweeping Carla into a hug. "I'm so sorry I'm late but you know how my mother is."

"Bernadette!" Carla's mother exclaimed. Ruben's mother appeared in the door.

"Gloria!"

The two women embraced each other as Ruben's mother entered the house followed by Ruben's father and brother, who looked miserable carrying big bags of...

"I hope you don't mind, but we brought gifts!"

"We were out shopping all day." Ruben smiled. "I got something for everyone."

Carla was over the moon. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She had been dreaming of this moment for so long, and it was finally here. She forgot all about her family's skepticism and just enjoyed the moment, basking in Ruben's embrace. It was the best Christmas Eve in Carla's life, with all of her and Ruben's family members gathered.

"I missed you."

Ruben stayed with Carla for the night, holding her close, serenading her face with kisses.

"So much." She whispered.

They lay in the dark with Ruben on top. His breath was heavy against her skin, the panting increasing with the pressure of his cock against her pelvis.

"Ruben, tell me you'll never leave me."

"I'll never leave you." He kissed her neck, moving on to bury his face between her breasts. They were naked under the sheets. Skin against skin.

"Promise me." She gasped.

Ruben lifted his head, a smile on his lips. His hands searched for hers in the dark, pinning them above her head. "I've already made my promise." He said, fiddling with the ring on her left finger. "You're mine forever Carla."

"Forever?"

He bent down and kissed her. "Forever."

Carla wanted to be sure, sure that Ruben would always come back to her no matter what.

"Fuck." He groaned, his cock aching to be inside of her.

"Put it in." She nodded. "I'm ready."

"I didn't bring anything." He said, thankful that the sheets prevented the tip of him from slipping inside of her. He was leaking already.

"I don't care." Carla said. "I want you like this, now."

Ruben paused all movement, raising himself to his elbows to meet her eyes below him. "Are you sure?"

Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip. "I'm sure Ruben. I want you."

He hesitated, but the ache between his legs was unbearable. Carla didn't make it easy for him to resist her either as her legs spread, inviting him to place himself between her.

"Fuck, Carla." Ruben rolled his hips until his cock aligned with her entrance. Carla's thighs wrapped around his waist, locking him in.

"Please." She begged.

Ruben was conscious for the first few strokes, but quickly went under her spell as the demon inside of him took over. He fucked her raw that night. Perhaps not their most gentle encounter. Either way, Carla was determined....determined to have Ruben's child.

Part 7 and 8 are already out on my Patreon for Free!

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine

[coffeeheartaddict2]

When life has other plans (6/16)

Shock and realization

Characters: Ethan Ramsey, F!MC Casey Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Aurora Emery

Warnings: language, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy loss

Category: angst

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1479

Summary: It is the last two months of intern year. Ethan is in Brazil and comes to a realisation. Casey comes to a startling discovery.

Disclaimer: characters belong to Pixelberry

Authors note: hang on? Didn’t one of your mutuals recently do a 2 part Amazon pregnancy series? Well yes, and we have both had a laugh about it but there are major differences to mine and @cariantha ‘s And not just me doing a 16 part series either. I won’t spoil the next few chapters but enjoy my take.

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

A new normal settled over Edenbrook. Casey and her friends commenced the final 2 months of their residency. None of the gang missed Landry and Casey did breathe a sigh of relief when she heard he had transferred residencies. No one in the gang bothered to find out where. Aurora moved into the roomie residence. It was a shock to Aurora, being seen as herself, not a way to her aunt but Aurora was enjoying the genuine friendship that was offered. She too decided to make a change. She decided to transfer to Mass Kenmore. She felt that she would be in a better position to carve her own path in her career. She knew that the staff there would also know her aunt but at the end of the day her aunt was not there.

There were still a band of detractors that Casey had to deal with post Ethics hearing. Those who presumed that she slept her way onto the team decided to assume that Dr Ramsey had asked for her to be on the team. This rumor made its way to Naveen and he was mortified. That decision was his own. How could he not reward the young woman who saved his life. He did compile an affidavit stating that he was not influenced by any other doctor in the decision. He was appalled that he felt he needed to do this but no one deserved to be on the end of such malicious gossip.

Work was busy and everyone was feeling it. About three weeks after Dr Ramsey left Casey started to feel more tired than usual. She had put it down to work, it had been hectic as well as doing extra study on the side, getting acquainted with some of the more exotic and more rare diseases. But she could not shake the feeling something more was up. She had worked exceedingly long hours before, particularly when she was helping with Naveen, she never recalled feeling this tired but she put it down to the emotional come down after the trial and the ending of the arrangement with Dr Ramsey. She could not deny she was missing him. Not personally but at work also, and not just him yelling at interns either. She knew it was going to be difficult to go back to a pre Miami footing. She knew that the mission was going well and that he was working hard but the limited contact was still hard. She hoped that they could maintain a friendship with him upon his return but she knew that was also fraught. Somewhere along the way she fell for him.

Meanwhile down in Brazil, Ethan too was a mess. The work was hard and equally rewarding. The days were long which he was thankful for, as well as the relaxing commute via motorbike along the Amazon but the nights were hard. After a week he knew that going back to a pre Miami setting was going to be futile. Instead of time apart helping them grow apart it helped him realize just how far he has fallen. He did not think it was love just yet, but he felt that he was well on the road there. He had trusted her with Naveen, which was a big deal to him, he did not trust easily. Then his thoughts went to the work dynamics. He knew June would have the most troublesome. She was a good behavioural psychologist and that did give some great insight sure but it was her mind games he knew she liked to engage in mind games and she would most likely call into question any merit, especially if there were changes to reporting. There was also the lack of guarantee that Casey still reciprocated his feelings. He decided that he needed to speak to Casey upon his return. He still thought of work arounds, as if she did feel the same way then he wanted options on the table of how it could work.

Six weeks and a half weeks after Ethan left Casey was more tired than usual and she was concerned. She had never being this tired and now she was starting to feel nauseous. Then she looked at an app on her phone.

Fuck” she said, “this can not be happening”

She was late and for someone who had never being late this was a shock. She sat there in a daze then Aurora and Sienna walked in. They were shocked.

“What is wrong Casey?” Asked Sienna

“Yeah, what is wrong, you look shook.” Said Aurora then Sienna saw the phone screen.

“What…”

“I had been tired a lot lately but I put it down to work, despite having worked similar hours before.”

“Have you tested?” Asked Aurora.

“No, I am scared.”

“I would be too, I have to ask..”

“It is Ethan’s yes.” Interjected Casey.

Do we have a test here?” Asked Aurora.

“No.” Said Casey.

“Ok, I will go to the chemist, grab a test. Sienna, get started on some baked goods and when I come back we will be emotional support while you take the test.”

The girls went about their tasks while Casey had a drink of water and tried to remain calm. Aurora came back with the test and Casey went to the bathroom. She peed on the stick and set the timer on her phone. The time seemed to go agonizingly slow. The timer went off and she took the test out with her.

“So…?” Asked Sienna.

Casey took a deep breath and looked at the test.

It was positive and Casey let out a sob before muttering “this can not be happening?”

She looked again and the result was still the same.

Aurora and Sienna let Casey cry as they hugged her. Casey had being ambivalent about kids in the past but now she was here pregnant to a man that she fell for, who ended their arrangement as he was to be her boss but most importantly to a man she knew did not want kids.

“I can not keep it.”

“Why not?” Asked Aurora

“What about my residency? The fellowship? There is still a rabid camp of people who think I slept my way onto the team. A pregnancy will be hard to hide at a certain point…”

“You are not alone Casey…” said Sienna.

“He does not want kids Si, I helped him test the FMRI machine awhile ago, I asked. He does not want them. I know he does not need to be involved…”

“But nothing,” said Aurora. “It is your decision at the end of the day but what if he has changed his mind?”

“I know he hated that we had to end things. But that is no guarantee we would work, besides I would feel as though that he is staying out of obligation and I do not want that.”

Aurora and Sienna understood where Casey was coming from.

“Thank you both for being there for me, I am going to head off to bed.” Casey bids good night and goes to bed and falls into a troubled sleep.

“What do you think she will do?”

“I know him and my aunt split up because they wanted different things, and since she knows that he does not want kids I get the reluctance to keep it so I will be surprised if she does.”

Sienna nodded.

“Either way we will be there for her.”

Meanwhile Casey looked at her schedule for the coming days. She did not have a day off until right before Ethan returned. She knew that she probably should tell him but she knew contacting him would be difficult but she did not want to leave a voicemail or text. She also knew that waiting until he came home would delay the inevitable and the longer she left it the more likely that surgery was her only option. So she took the decision to not tell him and that she would use her day off to have a medically induced abortion.

The day came, she got her script. Listened to the spiel about what was normal and what was not and headed home. She took the medication as stated and went to bed.

That night Ethan arrived back and went to Donahue’s to see if he could see Casey. He was disappointed to see that she was not there, even though her friends were. He knew he would see her the next day and if he was been honest, he was exhausted so a long chat about feelings was the last thing he wanted.

Casey had a troubled sleep, she was nervous about the abortion but above all nervous about seeing Ethan and the fellowship. Deep down she knew it was right but she could not shake a feeling in her stomach.

———

Authors note: I know that this is a triggering topic. I had a thought that lead to this series about if MC was pregnant during the reset and she decided not to keep it and low and behold another AU series.

If this has been triggering I urge you to contact support services in your state or country. If you have questions on why I chose this path my dm’s are open. The following chapters will have some drama and some clear differences from canon. What happens in this chapter does have an impact on their relationship and that will be explored.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @genevievemd @cariantha @zealouscanonindeer @youlookappropriate @alj4890 @tessa-liam @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @socalwriterbee @schnitzelbutterfingers @binny1985 @trappedinfanfiction @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #ethan ramsey #choices fanfic writers creations #casey valentine #choices #aurora emery #sienna trinh #choices the stories you play #play choices #open heart au #fic of the week #au

[theficcafe]

𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬. - 02

↳ Genre: Angst, Fluff

↳ Pairing: college!gojo x fem!reader

↳ Warnings: unrequited love

↳ Playlist: (will link here!)

↳ Masterlist: 01 02

“And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself?”

“Aki, I don’t know how to start this email. 

It’s my first time writing one (to you) after I transitioned from the traditional handwritten messages. I just found out yesterday that you haven’t been receiving the letters I have been sending—they were delivered, but scattered on the doorstep of your apartment. A kind lady had found one hidden in the bushes while she was tending to her garden, and decided to give the number a call to let me know that my letter has fallen astray.

 I’ve been writing for years, Aki. Just how much have you received? Read? Written back? You wrote back to me the first six months but that was three years ago. Was that even you? Where are you, Aki? What happened? What’s happening? I am seething with anger and resentment right now. But most of all, my heart hurts. 

Have you forgotten about me? I miss you terribly. 

Every day's the same since you left. I sometimes wish you hadn’t, but I’d be lying if I said that if given the chance, I’ll stop you. I would never. You have a dream. Bigger than us. Bigger than you. Bigger than me. You have a dream so big it won’t fit in your tiny little heart. And because I love you, Aki, I let you go. 

But I didn’t know you’d leave me. 

I didn’t know that letting go meant losing you. 

Write back. Or not. I love you. 

Toru.”

Your mind swirled with confusion and shock as you read the last paragraph. A minute ago, you were scrolling through your SNS feed when you got an email from a person called Gojo Satoru—who you have never heard of, in your entire life. Yet here you are, completely hooked in his emotionally written letter as if this was made for you. Just how much do random email occurrences like this happen? One thing stood out, though. Aki. There could be millions of Aki out there, but one thing’s for sure—that is not your name, and not close to it at all. 

The fact that he’d send this directly to someone else’s email has you perplexed; you could not wrap your head around the idea of this “Gojo” mistaking your ten-year old email made solely for game freebies for his girlfriend’s email address.

So why is this letter in your inbox? 

Your alarm suddenly went off, enticing a loud shriek from you as you accidentally fell off your bed. Groaning, you sat up, checking the time. The clock read 6:36 am. Thanks, you thought, as you looked up at the ceiling. What a great wake up call! 

“Just in time,” you mumbled breathlessly from the shock your alarm clock has given you, “just in time.” 

“You know, if you’re just going to space out, I’m gonna have to fire you.” Your manager, Mei Mei, playfully shoved your shoulders in hopes of snapping you out of your trance. You looked at her, void of any emotion - your mind too preoccupied with a certain person called Gojo Satoru. 

“Hey, Mei, do you ever get.. weird emails? From random people?” Mei Mei looked up from her phone and furrowed her eyebrows in curiosity. “What do you mean by weird emails? Like, chain messages? Of course I do! All the damn time.” 

Wiping the counter as you spoke helped you clean your mind a bit. It was Friday, and you received the letter four days ago—since then, it never left your mind. From the moment you woke up, to attending classes, to clocking in for your part-time job at Koi kōhī (a small café owned by a family friend: Mei Mei’s) -  the letter that’s been sitting in your mailbox has successfully infiltrated your mind ever since its existence. You have no idea why because technically, it’s none of your business—you can literally just delete it. Somehow, though, you couldn’t. The man seemed so melancholic that you didn’t even have the heart to delete it because then, that would mean writing this email would be in vain. He already sent it to the wrong person in the first place. At the same time, it bothered you; just looking at the message there. Opened. Waiting for a response. Begging, even.

While arranging the trays and paper-cups, it somehow dawned on to you—the reason why you couldn’t get the letter out of your mind. Because it is from a real person. And it happened in real life. 

There’s a girl named Aki, 

and a guy named Gojo, 

and somehow, there’s you. 

Guilty. Emphatic. Awkward…. Sad. 

It was a sad thing. To write and never be heard. To trust the wind to deliver your love and yet it fails you. To be acknowledged and discarded. It hurt to love. And if you looked close enough, you could see the corners of his words bleeding—and they’re not yours to wipe. 

In their ol’ little doomed love story, you’re only the spectator. 

An accidental one at that.

Upon giving it a thought, you hesitated telling her the truth of this so-called “weird” email; thinking about it, it would sound beyond weird if she asked why you decided to read it when you could’ve deleted it the moment it slid into your inbox. Shooting Mei Mei a shy glance, you spoke. “Yeah, like uh.. email promotions.. I guess.”

Mei Mei’s expression relaxed upon hearing it, sending a playful wink right your way before tossing the keys to Haru, your colleague, a usual sign that it’s time to close the shop. “Thank the heavens! I thought you were scammed.”

Oh how you wished it had been a poorly written scam campaign. Maybe if you saw the headlines “Congratulations, you won a car!” you wouldn't be feeling torn between keeping the message or deleting it. 

Before leaving, Mei Mei hugged you goodbye. “Be careful entertaining random emails, Y/N. You don’t know who you’re talking to!” 

Too late.

You could only nod in response. 

At home, you did exactly the opposite of what Mei Mei told you to do.

Your thumb has been grazing over the send button after an impulsive moment of typing the words “This isn’t Aki.” One send and everything would end. This Gojo guy would get the hint and perhaps feel a little embarrassed, but then, that’s going to be it—you’re pretty sure he will block your email address. No more heartbroken emails. No more Aki and no more Gojo. No more curiosity.

Send me a sign, you think to yourself. After all, you have the “God’s Tongue” - the universe won’t fail you now.

Except..

Today, it does.

As if the universe conspired to stop you, your phone vibrated upon receiving a notification.

Fuck your God’s Tongue indeed—you just manifested another email from Gojo Satoru.

In panic, you threw your phone on your bed, your heart hammering against your chest as if you just ran a marathon. And if that wasn’t enough, another notification came in: one that sounded exactly like another email. You squeaked a “holy shit!” as you scrambled to get your phone to quickly check your inbox. You were right: not one, but two emails from Gojo Satoru were sitting on top of your unread messages, waiting to be opened. You felt like you were violating his privacy. After all, these weren’t yours to read. But then again—the effort, energy, and emotions he’s put to write these—will be discarded. If you left it alone, it’ll just rot and be forgotten and you think he’s had enough of being forgotten; maybe it’s about time he forgets. 

So you click the first email, hands trembling nervously. Maybe this could be the last, you reasoned in your mind. Maybe he’ll get tired after two emails. After all - wouldn’t a normal person stop after getting no response?

Your eyes began to scan the first sentence.   

“Haruki Murakami. Norwegian Wood.

I’ve finally scored your favorite book. I went to the bookshop we’d often visit when we were in high-school. You know, the one next to lemon bakeshop near the old campus. You called it a cursed one—because every time you go there with a book in mind, you always left with a sullen look. You never once bought a book there because somehow, the universe always wanted you to lose. 

Well, today, we won, Aki. Took us years, but hey, better late than ever, right?

So come home. Read this. It’s for you. I always loved how you would annotate your books and run all the way to my house to show me the cool quotes you’ve found.

I miss your neon highlighters and your bright smile. Come home. Home to me.

Come home, Aki. 

Toru.” 

You felt as though you got punched in the stomach. The way he wrote this message was simple, as though relieving a memory, and yet your heart feels like it’s about to burst: he made sure to deliver it in a way that you’d remember, even if that memory isn’t yours. You could see it. You somehow could make out what they’d be like, minus the features of their faces; young, in love, stupid. You imagined a bookshop and relived a memory that did not belong to you; his longing and sadness bled and soaked through his words and you happened to be the unlucky one.

Lying down on your stomach, you raised your phone higher to get a good read before you click on the next one. 

“I never liked my coffee cold. 

You know that, right? I liked it hot. Even on hot days, you’d laugh at me for drinking hot coffee instead of iced ones. 

You said I’d get used to burning in “hell.” 

Hot coffee’s best for rainy days. When it feels cold and you could use some warm. When you were around, I drank coffee less. Even during the biggest storms, I’d bask underneath your warmth and laughter in bed all day and it would be the best thing ever - having to listen to the raindrops in tune with your laughter.

You gave me the warmth I needed in every season, Aki, and when you left for states, I drank coffee more. 

But everything is no match for the warmth you could only give.

My coffee’s been cold since you.” 

No sign. No usual ‘Toru’ or I love you’s. 

Exiting the mailbox app, you went to search for Tokyo’s weather forecast for today. 

It was raining.

↳  𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓪𝓸'𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓻! 

hi everyone, it’s kao! i’m sorry for uploading a day late, i have added some revisions regarding the plot line to make sure y’all will be overloaded with angst  ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

how are you guys liking lightness and weight so far? 

a feedback/reblog would me a lot to me! thank you for the smol appreciation you guys have shown!  ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

see u guys in chapter 03!

kao, out! ʚ♡ɞ

#angst #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru unrequited #jjk angst #jjk x reader #lwjjk #gojo angst

[deathspeaker]

Fell into a stress hole...

So years before my Dad died I encouraged him to buy a house. At the time we lived in a condo with MANY stairs. You couldn't even enter the house without going up stairs. There was no way to reach a bedroom or a bathroom without using the stairs. His health was failing and I anticipated it would only be harder to keep him out of assisted living if we stayed put.

So we moved into a smallish house (just under 1,200 sqft, to non-freedom units people yes that's a small house in America) that had no steps beyond the step up into the house. It was really inexpensive because it was a foreclosure. He spent the last 6 years of his life in it.

I am disabled. I can't hold down a job (my list of disabilities and issues has gotten even bigger in the last 2 years), so before he passed he told my brothers 'Take care of your sister.'

So even though I can't pay the mortgage of taxes for the house my eldest brother takes care of that (in exchange he gets to live for free in the house my mom got for him when his credit was too bad to sign a loan. She paid it off within 5 years of buying it but he still owed her money for it, basically paying rent till he paid her back).

It's a 3 bedroom 2 bath house. With itty bitty bathrooms and still needs repairs and updates but it's a house with a decent property in a decent neighborhood close to much of anything you need. I recognize I am insanely lucky to have this place.

So in a year my Nephew's lease is up and he pays 2k in rent a month (my mortgage is 777$), he has a wife and 2 daughters. They are currently renting a 2 bed 2 bath dinky apartment. The rent will go up if he renews the lease...

So everyone is looking at me like:

I love my nephew, I love my great-nieces, and love his wife. I would gladly give them my house because I am the kind of person who believes in making sacrifices for others, even at the cost of my own health (because I undervalue myself and my autistic ass is intent on proving that I'm not some kind of useless leech that society and libertarians keep insisting I am)

So if I give up my house to them (and I am willing to) that means I will need to find new housing. My most immediate options are to move in with my eldest brother and his wife or my mother.

I rather slit my throat than live with my mother. She is the source of like... many of my insecurities and mental health issues (or at least exacerbated existing mental illnesses to the breaking point).

And my eldest brother who loves constantly having his loud and obnoxious friends over. I am AUTISTIC. I have social phobias. I have panic attacks when I visit his house when his friends are there. Sure it would be preferable to living with my mom but that's still choosing to be shot in the gut rather than the head.

So now I'm so stressed I've fallen into a well of self-loathing and depression.

#I love living alone #I hate being around people #it takes me days to recover after having a fun day with people I like #I am not a well person #I realize I'm complaining about HAVING A FREE HOUSE #I pay all the bills #there is a small chance I could maybe move in with my other brother #who is going to be buying a house in san francisco #I haven't mentioned it to him #he would be much more preferable to the other two options #and I would be in driving distance of my boyfriend!

[findingmypeace]

I don’t know how to start this. I feel like all I ever do on here is complain. I’m sure no one wants to hear that. I’m sure everyone is just sick of me…

But I am going to share something because I don’t know where else to talk about it. This will probably be long. I start my job on Monday. The plan was for me to start iop to maintain some level of support during this transition. As if I’m not already dealing with enough my treatment therapist met with me today. She said the treatment team met and talked about me stepping down to iop. They all agreed I’m not ready and need to stay in PHP but they understand I have to work to pay my bills and therefore can’t continue with PHP. However, my therapist told me that everyone agreed it would be unethical to step me down to iop when I’m not ready and since I can’t continue with PHP I have no choice but to discharge. My last day of treatment will be Saturday.

There is so much emotion wrapped up in leaving treatment. This is part of why I didn’t want to readmit. I didn’t want the pain and separation of discharge just like last time. I’m going to attempt to explain it like I did in group earlier today. The outpatient part of the treatment center I’m at (iop and PHP are together) has become a “safe” place for me. It’s a place where I feel like I can express my true thoughts, where whenever I need it I can get support from staff, where I don’t feel judged, and where I’ve made connections with others that I haven’t been able to make in my real life. I know that part of why I relapsed last time was because with graduation/discharge I suddenly lost a huge part of my support system. And that time I was discharging from iop. I was attending iop 4 hrs a day, 3 days a week. At the present moment I’m discharging from PHP that I am attending 8 hrs a day, 6 days a week. And of course, this time I got very attached to the staff yet again, in particular the nurse. The idea that I will never see any of them again is devastating.

On top of this I no longer have my outpatient therapist. I can’t afford outpatient dietitian sessions (not covered by insurance so I’m paying out of pocket) for at least a couple more months. Also, my psychiatrist is out of town this week and next week. The requirement for treatment is that you see your psychiatrist once a week. I saw the other facility psychiatrist today but if I had stayed in treatment I would have also seen her next week as well. Now I’m not seeing anyone. This means I will not have a therapist, dietitian, or psychiatrist, or the support of treatment next week. The week I transition into a new job. The first time I’ve worked full-time and in person since 2019. I will basically be almost completely alone because I no longer have my parents or my two friends from high school. I do have a few friends who are supportive (3) but I don’t want to overwhelm them.

To be honest, I’m scared. How is this going to work? To go from PHP to almost nothing. I know I have to maintain some level of stability so I’m doing everything in my power to keep it together. I want this job to go well so I know I need to do my best to stay healthy. My dietitian today talked to me about the importance of nutrition on the ability to focus and think. I am going to do my best. I’m just worried about outside of work. There are three virtual support groups the treatment center runs for alumni. I will attend those but I know that’s not enough. I will continue with ECT, which I have tomorrow, but that means I won’t have it again for another two weeks. Next week is empty with no therapist, dietitian, psychiatrist, treatment, or ECT.

Also, I did text my outpatient therapist and tell her I’m discharging due to my new job but I didn’t share any other aspect of what’s going on. If she’s not going to be my therapist anymore I don’t want to bother her but I will need her help to find a new therapist.

I am so emotionally exhausted. What the hell is going on?! My life has pretty much fallen apart and it doesn’t seem like there is going to be much relief any time soon. It feels like there is no end in sight. The only bright spot is starting my new job but that’s pretty anxiety provoking as well. I am not looking forward to Saturday, driving home from PHP for the last time.

#personal #bulimia #depression #eating disorder #ed treatment #attachment trauma

[nctjpeg]

anyways 7 years ago today i met my ex best friend (the one i fell out with in 2020) and it’s my blog and i have thoughts

okay so. lizzy lore dump time.

when i was 17, i met this dude at a college event for rising freshmen soon to be attending my university.

at first i thought he was ugly and annoying, but then i got to know him, and he became one of my closest friends. he was charismatic and funny, we had a lot of shared interests, he wowed me with stories of his teenaged debauchery (something I never experienced and desperately wanted), and we had the same major and career goals. there was a time in my life where i saw this man every day. our apartments were 3 minutes walking distance from each other. we would stay up til odd hours watching silly movies and laughing about the complete nonsense we would say to each other. i trusted him completely, and in my mind he was like a brother to me (and for context: my older brother and i are INCREDIBLY close)

and then he sexually assaulted me in March 2020, right at the start of the pandemic.

it wasn’t a typical assault, however, so I didn’t realize what had happened until 6 months after the assault, and a month after he and I were no longer friends. in august of that year we had fallen out for completely unrelated reasons involving a “coke* pact” we had made as freshmen in college. for the uninitiated (because to 21-year-old-me’s surprise this is not a thing most people do), the pact was that i was not to try that drug for the first time without him present, and long story short that didn’t happen. he found out, got really angry, threatened to kill himself over it, and ended our friendship.

(side note: days earlier one of our mutual friends told me he had admitted to being in love with me, something i had always suspected. I think this has something to do with his reaction)

that was about 4 years ago and I still grieve this friendship every day. there’s a part of me that hates this. that tells me “he’s a predator and a bum, your life has only improved without him in it, we’ve been to trauma therapy, get over it and move on.”

but there’s a part of me that believes the friendship I had with that man was my real “first love,” but it was a PLATONIC love when the problem was he wanted a ROMANTIC love. why? because I genuinely believed that he was going to be in my life forever, and what is love if not that? so I guess the grief I feel has stemmed from trying to adjust to living without this “forever person,” and on top of that, having to grapple with the fact that I trusted him completely and he violated me.

as you may have guessed, that’s where a lot of my jaded feelings about men stem from. one of the most heartbreaking feelings to have come from ALL of this is that I loved that man so deeply and in the end he STILL objectified me, even after all the movies we watched, the jokes we made, the memes we shared, the heart to heart conversations we had, even when I had been in a vulnerable state around him dozens of times before, when he saw an opportunity to try and get whatever sexual gratification he wanted to get from me, he still took it. none of that shit mattered to him when I was finally insecure and inebriated enough to take advantage of. and if it didn’t matter to him, the man who I saw every day and loved like my own brother, does it matter to anyone? suffice to say, letting new people in after this has been incredibly difficult.

I suppose I should end this on a positive note, so I will say losing that friendship was hard, but it was also one of the best things to ever happen to me. when I spoke up to our mutual friends (none of which I fuck with anymore) about what he had done to me in January of 2021, I swear 5 good things happened to me on that day alone. The last 4 years have been a hard journey of healing and growth, but through that healing and growth I have been able to create a life for myself that i’m proud of. So, if had to go back and do it all again, I’d still break that fucking coke pact.

anyways, music is how I cope with things, so this is a playlist of all the songs I listened to that helped me get through this. the link is here. except for one song that isn’t on spotify, so i’m gonna include it here for fun:

*i know I have younger followers so if you’re under 18 and reading this 1. it’s overrated and if you have ADHD like I do you won’t feel anything and 2. if you dabble in substances be safe, be smart, know what to do if shit goes wrong, and please wait until you’re 18 at least.

#tw: sa mention #lizzy’s personal posts

[hlmowrer]

Week 15: And just like that, another chapter written and abruptly closed

This week was a good week.  It's funny, because from a different perspective it was a terrible week.  There were many successes, but just about every single one of them seemed to fall apart.  Two interested people that had fallen off the map reached out and set up meetings...only for someone in their family to shut it down.  Dennis was super pumped to be baptized...only for a legal technicality to force him to wait another 6 months.  Andrew had a good start to the week, struggled on Thursday, was feeling good after a super spirit lead discussion on Friday, only to bail on Saturday despite having another really good spirit filled discussion...three hours before the baptism...after we had made many preparations and hyped up the whole church congregation.

Disappointing to say the least, not to mention stressful.  And yet, I didn't have a bad week.  Actually, I feel pretty dang good about it.  Why?  Because I know I did everything I could.  I felt the spirit guide me as I spoke in a way that has seldom happened on my mission so far.  I made better use of my time.  I made sure Dennis and Andrew knew how much faith I had in them, and still do.  I was able to see the hand of the Lord guiding me to people, even when they would soon decide to not listen.  And that feels good.  It really does.

So all of that happened, and then also I got a call on Friday morning from mission headquarters telling me I'm being transferred.  That was a cold shock, because I was completely confident that I would stay.  I've been here in Midland less time than Elder Wilchek, and I'm still pretty new.  I had made zero preparations to pack or say goodbye to anyone.  Yet, here I am.  I'll be leaving tomorrow for Kalkaska, a little village (yes, it's literally called a village under Michigan law) in the north, near Traverse City.  I've never lived in a town that small before, it will certainly be an adjustment.  More importantly though I'm just heartbroken to be leaving Midland.  I've really come to love this community and start to consider it home.  It's hard, because I get attached to people and places really easily and letting go of all that with four days notice is so, so hard.  At church I spoke about how progress often doesn't feel good...So many times in a row now have I naturally tried to attach myself to my surroundings only to have my life hastily move me along the instant I learn a life lesson and get the least bit comfortable.  It's so frustrating, but I know that it's simply because God knows there are better places and people prepared for me.  And, in all fairness, I have spent the better part of a decade praying for a fast forward button to my adulthood and its forever home and forever people.  So as sad as I am to leave, I'm also thankfully capable of looking forward to this.  Probably thanks to the same spiritual power that helped me feel good about the week's efforts.  It'll be a new adventure, and I haven't regretted a single one of those yet.

With that, I'm going to go have lunch at Panda Express.  Because it's the last time I'm gonna be anywhere near one for quite a while.

-Elder Beren Mowrer

Hey, look at you!  You actually looked at all my pictures!  Good job.  Here's a tidbit from a few weeks ago that I forgot to add.

Me:                      >*Makes some comment about being around too many "old" missionaries*

Elder Long:          > Oh yeah wait you're training aren't you?

                             > Wait, so that means you're going home in...

                             > *long pause while he thinks about it*

                             > ...Twenty Twenty fiv--- *can't even say it without dying of laughter*

Everyone but me: > *raucous laughter for several minutes*

[big-j-400]

Pretty much rooted now

Was feeling ok about not feeling ok about work - that I understand that I feel like I fail all the time, but that I do a good enough job that I am not in danger of losing it.

That my jobs around the house for when i am "relaxing" that I will load too many in, so that I can't achieve them all, so that I can fail at achieving and then fail at relaxing as well.

That the DIY major project is going to be not right, not straight and not perfect - but that it will be measured and made to the best of my limited ability and will probably be standing long after I am gone (over engineered by an actual architect and built over and above that).

But I have just found out that one of the work tasks I had actually managed to achieve was done in exactly backwards to what the customer wanted. No effort spent by anyone else yet, but a week long job needs to be re-done for tomorrow.

My attempts to let others own their tasks and provide me updates rather than owning everyone else's failures by not letting them manage themselves has fallen over to the extent that a major deadline has been missed and two further projects now impacted. Is letting someone else have the ability to fail, and them taking it, even more of a failure for me because I now have to not only recover their initial failure but the subsequent flow on failures?

And the major DIY project is now looking like it might not get completed this year. I was going to have an actual competent and experienced person come in and give me a hand to complete the last major task (the steel roof) - the point of the whole project. This weekend was recovering from my failure to notice that the lumber yard had sent the wrong sized timber that prevented me from getting ready to put the roof on this weekend. So by next weekend should be at a point where the roof can go on. But it will be windy and rainy (according to extended forecast). The following weekend, a different team are coming in to fix a fence that was broken, that I am not even goign to atempt. So leaves the following weekend. After that I have a weekend away booked with my wife and another couple to see a show. The week after that - I go in for arm surgery that will mean i will be in a cast for two months nad then a year's rehab after that. We can't even get builders in to finish it off, as there are none free at the moment - it is at least 6 months to even get one to come and quote on a job - and the ones that are able to come that quickly are generally free for a reason.

The arm surgery itself is also probably going to fall apart somehow. Initial funding was denied by the government agency that normally funds such things. The work insurance plan I top up to cover absolutely everything is now looking unlikely to pay (they have a 2 day turnaround expectation, it has been over a week with nothing). If they decline, then the surgery is off - and I go back to just sucking painkillers to be able to work and function.

Fortunately - it turns out that being ADHD for me apparently means that narcotic "high" doesn't happen - so I don't run the same risk of becoming addicted to opiod painkillers as they just dull pain rather than making me feel good. I could never understand why people were all "give me the drugs - feels wonderful" when the best I could hope for was the edge off the pain and nausea.

This coming weekend is due to rain. If the weekend after the other team coming in to work is wet, (and my surgery isn't yet cancelled or moved out) then $30K of materials and labor has been wasted. The wet empty weekend then becomes a date that would seem suitable to allow the family to cash in on the life insurance to be able to pay a builder to come in and finish, and not have to take time off to look after me with an arm out of action so I will be even less productive and effective.

Which is interesting, because that would make it almost exactly a year since the date that I had first planned to take my own life - but reached out for help instead. A year later, the help and therapy has identified that I have ADHD / ASD, that I don't have depression (probably) - just a "depressive schema". That talking to my therapist will help identify ways that I have negative thoughts and can move towards not being so hard on myself.

After a year - I have spent a bunch of money on therapy and medication and can't point to feeling permanently better about anything. When I do think "oh, actually this is ok" - it promptly blows up in my face and feels twice as bad - because I didn't feel bad about it in the first place and now there is an even worse outcome to now have to manage.

After a year - I intellectually know that my view on my productivity, effectiveness and ability doesn't match the view of others. I also "know" however that they are being kind to make me achieve for them, that therapists and psychologists are paid to say nice things and that my family has only ever had me doing things for them, so they have a really low bar of what "success" is. My daughter keeps buying me "great dad" products and making cards that say that I am wonderful - but she has only ever known life with me as a father. I am sure that if my wife was to meet someone else, they would be much better for the family than I am - more able to show love and emotion, more giving, more successful and less of a failure.

I don't understand how therapy is supposed to work in terms of making me feel better - or what better even means. After a year, I have realised that I don't even have a concept of what it means to succeed. That everything I do is not acceptable to me in terms of duration, outcome, effectiveness, perfection, or being as good as what anyone else could achieve. My therapist says it is a process to undo decades of built in negative self talk. In my work and my world, processes are series of regulated and effective steps that ensure a consistency of outcome. This process doesn't seem to consist of steps, the outcome is nebulous at best so how can you be sure the "process" will achieve it and no one seems to be able to articulate what the process actually is. Does that mean that even my understanding of the word "process" itself is a failure? Or that I am just burning through the family's money on a fool's errand?

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that removing me from the equation just frees up resources, stops bothering others and means that time, money and more effective and suitable people can take over the roles and tasks that I am failing at.

I have figured out a suitable date that will work in with my wife's work schedule and daughter's holidays. My wife has already booked a couple of days to run me in and out of hospital for surgery and look after me for a couple of days - so that would work for organising funeral instead. The car is due for a service shortly thereafter - but she will probably not want to keep hold of it, so that will free up a bit more again.

If the surgery is canned and the weather improves, then completing the project will have to happen first, and in that case the fall back date is a month or so later to avoid disrupting my daughter's exams.

#mental health #adhd #asd #actually adhd #neurodivergent #actually autistic #vent #therapy

[mxjayne]

Here I sit, at 2:36am, on the floor of the home I built with my now ex partner. The makeshift bedroom/lounge room is stacked precariously with all of the little pieces of the last 6 years of my life.

I didn’t plan for this; of course I didn’t. Our tender love shaped my life like the current of coursing river. As quickly as our lives melded together, so too did the disentanglement. The entirety of my adult life, defined so deeply by our intimacy, has dissolved between my fingers. We were the candy floss, and your anger and my mental illness were the water. Neither of us realised just how delicate the relationship was, of course, until it had long since fallen apart.

I can see the next bend in the river of my life, and I know it will be defined by hardship and grief. I welcome it. The self soothing behaviours I have justified for so long have been defining my life, and I exist little outside the four walls of my home.

It reminds me of a recommendation from a therapist when I was much younger; resist against the anxious tendency to make your life smaller. She explained, although it starts with cancelling plans with friends and deciding to do distance education, it can quickly snowball into a life in which one is terrified to leave the perimeter of their home, room, or bed. This proved to be an anxious tendency I have frequented for years. The last few months (dare I say, years) have been suffocated under a haze of weed, sleep and food. I thought I was allowing myself to cope. I now realise by reducing the input into my world, I was taking away my ability to cope.

I’ve shaved my head and I’m moving cities. I’m going back to university and pursuing creative endeavours. I will have little more than clothing, books, records and a yoga mat to my name. I am individual, I am whole, I am healing.

#mental health #journal entry #September 2022 #writing #writerscommunity

[voidlingg]

my entire life has fallen apart in the last 6 months

#i just wish they both realized i suck and dumped me earlier than now #for everyone's benefit

[supercap2319]

Moving On

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x Male Reader

A/N: Season 6 ep 13 related.

Y/N found Stefan in his room, moving some things around inside. Stefan’s back was turned to Y/N as he smiled in the doorway, arms across his chest. Without turning around to look at him; Stefan smirked as he said out loud. “I hear Jeremy is applying to art school. Hope he has a decent portfolio.”

Y/N smiled. “Don’t be mean. He needs to move on with his life and frankly… so do I.”

“Oh, should I be worried about that change in transition?”

Y/N sighed as he stepped fully into the room. It’s been a while since his last visit to this room and a lot of memories were coming back to him. Memories of him and Stefan. The good ones, and the bad ones as well. It was nostalgic being back here, and for just a moment, Y/N could almost pretend nothing had changed between them. That they were still very much in love with each other as the day they’d first fallen in love with one another. Except, that wasn’t reality.

“Look, I’ve… I’ve made some huge mistakes in my life, but being with you wasn’t one of them,” Y/N said. “And yes, we’ve had a falling out for a while now. Between Silas, Katherine, the Travelers, Damon and Bonnie. There never seems to be a time for us to reconcile with each other. It's almost like fate wants to split us apart.”

“The fate of the Doppelgängers. Destined to be together forever and ever,” Stefan said, referring to his tied destiny to Elena. The fate of all Silas’ and Amara’s shadow clones.

Y/N smiled sadly at that. “But no matter what life throws at us, we always seem to find our way back to each other. Stefan, I somehow always find my way back to you. No matter the circumstances. Not even death can keep me from you.”

“Y/N, what are you saying exactly?” Stefan asked him. The younger male had a certain look in his eyes as he got closer to Stefan. It was an emotion Stefan couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“I’m saying that through all the trials and tribulations, I still love you. I probably will always love you even if you stop loving me and move onto someone else,” Y/N said.

“Who said I moved on with someone else?”

“Well, you and Caroline seemed to be getting closer and I just thought that maybe you had let go of the past and were looking towards the future. I mean, you were with Ivy for 4 months and now Caroline. Seems to me you’ve moved on just fine.”

Stefan didn’t have to use his vampire hearing to know how much this hurt Y/N. He could practically hear the bitter disappointment in his voice. It brought up a question that Stefan thought he’d long since buried inside of himself. Was he still in love with Y/N? After all this time? It would have been easier to deny it and say no, but that just wasn’t true. Stefan was still in love with the middle Gilbert, despite everything that’s happened to them these last few years.

“Y/N, I can’t change the past, or what’s happened between us up until this moment, but if moving on to a future with you not in it, then I don’t want a future or to move on. Not without you in my life.” Stefan finally felt like a weight had been lifted off him. This was what he’s been carrying around for a long time now, and tonight he’s finally let it go. He was finally free.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Y/N asked, shocked. He dare not get his hopes up. Hope that Stefan would come back to him like he always does.

Instead of answering, Stefan got close to Y/N until their chests were touching as he snaked an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled him closer as he leaned down and kissed the hybrid Gilbert.

Stefan kissed Y/N with all the passion and heat that he had been harboring inside his body since they broke things off. The familiar spark was ignited in both of them as they continued to kiss. A kiss that made Y/N weaken in the knees and Stefan’s heart race.

They separated for a moment as Y/N looked into Stefan’s emerald orbs, which were laced with the same look of love that had been there since day 1. Stefan still loves him and Y/N still loves Stefan. Fated destiny be dammed.

“So, does that answer your question?” Stefan teased as Y/N smiled at him. A genuine one.

“I think it does, Fangs,” Y/N said as he and Stefan kissed once again.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #vampire diaries #the vampire diares #stefan salvatore #paul wesley #stefan x male #ripper stefan #stefan salvatore x y/n #stefan salvatore x male reader #paul wesley x male reader #vampire male reader #witch gilbert #shy male reader #male insert #episode related