#Dear Diary Fanfic

[beezusvreeland]

dear reader - chapter 1

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

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Chapter 1

The tears falling from your eyes should be happy ones. It was a huge accomplishment, a dream you never thought would come true. You got a scholarship to attend the University of Edinburgh summer writing course. Almost two months of writing and learning for free in a city you’ve wanted to visit long before Outlander was even a thing.

You would have the opportunity to focus on your writing while exploring the town that inspired so many writers before you. It was all you ever wanted.

Yet you were laying down on your bedroom floor, all the lights off in your apartment, the outfit you spent so much time trying to find (and so much money to buy) still on your body. You felt paralyzed. No heartbreak has ever felt like that before, not even the ones also caused by Miguel.

When people asked you what type of relationship the two of you had, you just answered friends. It was easier, usually killing any follow up questions. You know that was his answer too, you’ve heard it before. His tone, however, was much different than yours. Miguel would play it down, as if it was a ridiculous question, more ridiculous than the idea that the two of you could be more to each other.

But friends don’t go home together after the bar closes late at night, laughing and whispering, drunk on more than the drinks you had. Friends don’t flirt with each other crossing all the lines, just to leave you hanging, wondering to yourself if you imagined the whole thing, if you saw more than it actually was.

But also, regardless of any time of messiness, friends don’t bail on each other at the last minute, making up some excuse which you can quickly find out is a lie.

“Is mr. O’Hara joining us anytime soon?”, the waiter asked you politely. It was obvious you had never gone to such a nice restaurant, but it was a celebration. You wanted to dress up and share your news with the person you cared about the most. Earlier you had been so excited you barely slept, hoping that things went smoothly, that maybe a change of scenery reminded him of what the two of you could be.

You had been waiting for an hour, sipping from the least expensive soft drink on the menu, when Miguel sent you a monosyllabic text saying something happened at Alchemax. Your body was familiar with that disappointment. Miguel was a prolific scientist, head of the biotechnology and genetics department, always doing important work. Things that could actually save people’s lives. You were so proud of him, but couldn’t help feeling sad. You scheduled the dinner almost a week prior, checking in with him several times during the week to make sure he could go.

On the Uber home, you tried not to think about the pang in your chest so much. You opened Instagram and scrolled for a bit, then started watching some stories, without paying much attention. Until you saw him. It was his assistant’s, Lyla, profile. The video showed people singing happy birthday to someone called Scott. There was Miguel. You recognized a few faces from Alchemax, but couldn’t for the life of you remember any Scott — and Miguel loved telling you all the company gossip. Next story, still from Lyla: people dancing to “Party in the USA”, by Miley Cyrus. Far back, Miguel said something in a woman’s ear. It was Dana, a pretty brunette with short hair, brilliant like Miguel and also crazy for him, which you couldn’t blame her for. In the video, she hands Miguel a bottle of beer. He then kisses her.

You loved Miguel O’Hara, was there for him every single time he called and waited years for him to realize you were the one for him. The soul crushing truth was that he never would. The only time you asked for him, where all he had to do was show up, he didn’t. He went to some random guy’s birthday instead of being there for you. There was your answer.

*** “C’mon now”, Miguel flexed his back, a red drink in his hand. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, buddy.”

“I think you and pretty Dana have been doing more than just kissing and that’s what you ain’t telling”, Hobie had a smirk on his face.

Pavirt approached the group holding two beers.

“Two beers? Are you in a rush, mate?”

Pav took a breath, trying to open one bottle without letting the other slip from his hands.

“You know, I should have, it’s packed today and it’s not even game day”, Pav looked around The Bar, the place Miguel and his friends would go to after work almost every day.

Miguel preferred the nice bars downtown, but after going to The Bar a few times to meet Hobie, the place started to grow on him. It had been years and The Bar just got bigger and better. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed, the place was becoming such a staple that now there were lines to come in. Thankfully, Foggy, the owner, always made sure to find a spot for his “day ones”.

“Passing through, passing through!”, Gwen made her way to the group, followed by a tall guy with glasses who looked slightly disoriented.

“Am I seeing right?”, Miguel pointed at the man, who smiled back at him. “If it isn’t Peter B motherfucking Parker!”

“How many of these have you drunk?”, Peter approached his friend, giving him a hug. “Oh shit, he is hugging me back, this is really serious!”

Miguel laughed, patting Peter’s back. He had no idea how many drinks he had at that point. They were all just so red and sweet.

“Friends, this is Pete, a friend of mine and Gwen’s from college.”

Hobie and Pav nodded at Peter, who smiled at them.

“What are you doing here, buddy? Haven’t seen you since your Daily Bugle days.”

Gwen had taken the second beer from Pav’s hand and opened it. “I found him wandering around like a lost puppy”, she pointed at Peter.

“I spent some time abroad, now I’m back in the city, taking photos here and there”, Peter shrugged, looking uncomfortably at Hobie, who was squeezing his eyes and seemed to be whispering something to himself.

“Hobie, are you ok there, pal?”, Gwen asked, arching one of her eyebrows.

“The math isn’t mathing”, he answered.

“How much have you drunk?”, Pav asked his friend.

“Just a bit, smoked a lot though”, Hobie was still analyzing. “There is someone missing…where is y/n?”

Miguel’s eyes widened. “Shit, I was supposed to reschedule this thing with her”, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, struggling to type his password correctly.

“Don’t bother”, Gwen told him. Her arms were crossed and she glared at him while taking a sip of beer.

Miguel realized he was indeed very drunk and confused. He noticed Gwen hadn't looked at him since she arrived, but he hadn’t thought anything of it at first. He felt weird, like he was being reprimanded for something.

“What do you mean?”, Miguel’s brows furrowed.

“As we speak, she is flying across the pond.”

“Oh, shit, already?”, Hobie sobered up for a moment.

“What is the time difference again?”, Pav asked.

“What are they talking about?”, Miguel froze. They were speaking as if she was far away. They were speaking as if they already knew she was going far away.

“She got the Edinburgh summer writing program scholarship. She left tonight”, Gwen answered.

“I don’t remember her saying anything about it.” Miguel wondered if you were mad at him because of the dinner and didn’t tell him because of that. You would do that sometimes, ice him out. That annoyed him, but you were more affected by it than him. He was always able to charm his way out of it.

“Of course you heard, mate, c’mon, she took you to dinner to celebrate”, Hobie sounded frustrated.

“Which didn’t even make sense, if anything, you should have taken her out to celebrate”, Pav added, giving Miguel an exasperated look.

“I canceled the dinner, something came up at work.” Miguel looked at his feet, still confused, but feeling the weight of the guilt.

He looked up, only to find Gwen’s eyes, full of anger and disappointment. She knew he was full of shit. Miguel wondered how she would even know…unless you knew it too.

“¡Mierda!”

“I take it your friend is a writer, then. That’s really cool”, Peter said to Gwen, Pav and Hobie. “She writes fiction?”

“Non fiction, mostly”, Gwen answered, her expression softening. She was so proud of you. Your writing barely paid your bills and less people were reading nowadays, but you took your art seriously, refusing to give up such an important part of yourself. “She is a freelance writer these days. She just published a profile of Mary Jane Watson, the actress who’s all the buzz on Broadway, in Bliss magazine.”

“Wait, that is the y/n you are friends with?”, Peter got excited. “God, I love her interviews. Honest to God, I cried when she told Mary Jane that it’s ok to express your opinions, that they can be fleeting and not set in stone.”

“Ugh, I love that part!”, Pav agrees, putting his hand on his chest.

“Did you read it, Miguel?”, Peter asked gently. He was clearly trying to light up the mood, Miguel kind of hated him for that. Peter didn’t even know you and seemed to know so much about you already.

“No”, Miguel answered coldly.

“Miguel refuses to spend US$ 5 on the paywall”, Gwen snorted.

“Buddy…aren’t you, like, rich?”, Peter looked at him.

“That’s how he stays rich, alright!”, Hobie clapped, drawing the attention of the people around them.

“What the fuck…?”, Miguel’s head started to throb. It might’ve been the drinking, but he had the impression his friends were ganging up on him. It was annoying. Especially because they were (mostly) right. “I’m not paying that for an article”, he grunted.

“It’s a subscription!”, Gwen rolled her eyes, growling. “It’s a way to support the writer's and editor’s work, so y/n can keep writing profiles, think pieces and her great col…her great work”, Gwen corrected.

While the group kept discussing what they had been reading lately, Miguel tried his password on his phone a few more times, eventually getting it right. He was pretty sure Gwen was about to say you had a column, so he typed bliss magazine + column. The first result was “dear reader: the advice you didn’t know you needed”. He clicked on the link: the pop up alerting that the content was behind paywall appeared.

***

Dear reader,

I’m a firm believer in the power of words. It’s what moves me and what both excites and terrifies me about writing this column. The same word can be heartfelt or cutting, it all depends on the delivery. Speaking out loud can be just as important of a tool as listening attentively to what people have to say.

I guess I have spent so much time looking for words, either from myself or others, that I haven’t always paid attention to actions. They matter too. There is a lot of meaning in what is left unsaid. If the actions don’t match a person’s words, it’s time to take a step back and think deeply about it.

That’s a lesson I learned too late. I wanted someone so badly I was willing to accommodate it all, the excuses, the absences and the stolen glances that never led nowhere. It took me years and many mornings waking up by myself to realize that if he wanted to, he would. It seems obvious, but things are so much more complicated with matters of the heart.

And our hearts are precious, no matter what others say. So, in truth to my words, I decided to share a big accomplishment in my life with people who I knew would celebrate me and recognize what this goal means to me. And in truth to my actions, I’m on my way to a big adventure.

When your heart breaks, there is only so much you can do. I’m doing it.

Protect yours and remember, never take advice from someone who’s falling apart.

Love, The writer

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>> chapter 2

all chapters

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dear diary playlist

[goddess-of-silvers]

I know everyone’s mad at Aziraphale right now because of how the season’s ended but I don’t think we’ve talked enough about the fact that Aziraphale has been keeping a diary for centuries (based on the fact the entry we see is from volume 603) and he literally starts his entries with “dear diary, last month Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh”.

[ryujnn]

thinking about how geto makes you sit on his face and keeps his big boy grip on your legs, keeping you still and your pussy right into his mouth :(( he’s bucking his hips at the taste of you and listening to the pretty noises you’re making all from his tongue. you’re looking down at him with heavy hooded eyes and he’s so fucking attracted to the way you’re spilling all into his mouth,, he’s definitely gonna cum all over himself without even being touched.

[dear-trash-diary]

You turn to the next page, a continuation of the last.

[juneberrie]

— 🥖 dating peeta mellark

would definitely give you all his clothes. like you're cold? he's pulling off his jacket and handing it to you. y'all had separate closets? no you dont not anymore. what's yours is his and what's his is yours

he has so many paintings of you <3 like his paintings are all either you, flowers (mostly your favorite flowers) or occasionally something from the games

he has so many paintings of you <3 like his paintings are all either you, flowers (mostly your favorite flowers) or occasionally something from the games

speaking of the games: nightmares! his nightmares dont happen as often as katniss' but they do happen. usually, its some variation of you being reaped instead of katniss and him trying his best to save you from all the horrors that the gamemakers thrust upon you but ultimately failing

he wakes up and immediately pulls you into his lap and just. holds you. he needs the warmth and the weight to remind himself that you're here, you're with him, you're safe

anyways here's more sad stuff

when the capitol got him and hijacked him, they attacked his memories of you. they made it seem like you hated him and used him and just were a terrible person.

when he first sees you after he gets rescued, he backs into a wall and just stares at you, crying. he whispers, "please. don't hurt me." and your heart breaks into a million pieces

after they un-hijack him (is that what it is?) he realizes that you never would hurt him. it was all the capitol. you two sit together on the steps of his house in the victors village and play real or not real one last time.

"real or not real. you love me." peeta's warm hand over yours chases the cold away. you look into the eyes of the boy who's been through so much and still made it out pure and sweet. the boy who still believes in kindness and give the softest of love. the boy who loves you, despite everything that the capitol forced him to believe. you lean up and press a soft kiss to his temple.

"real. always real."

[cancerian-woman]

Hi! A new update is here!

dear little witch| klonnie au: Bonnie Bennett has held plenty of titles. A daughter, friend, teen witch, and a former wife. The most important one to her now was mother and business owner. She earned this life for herself and would be damned if she lost. A witch’s premonition is nothing to ignore. Bonnie values her life away from Mystic Falls and returning wasn’t likely for her until her daughter’s safety was compromised. The Salvatore Boarding School would change everything for the Bennett witches. Secrets will unfold and time can only tell what’s to come next. Hope Mikaelson won’t be the only one with her world turned upside down. Family is forever, whether anyone likes it or not. Everything is done in the name of family. -an au of TVD/TO post season 8 & 4 of TO.

You can also read my new update on Wattpad or FFN!

You may remember this AU from past posts see here

[ecstarry]

I don’t think we will ever know. I’m not brave enough. Not in this life, and I feel uncertain that I will be in the next one. Surely, I am not alone in this torment of 'what-ifs'. Surely, I am only this desperate because you are too. Surely, I am not in love on my own. Surely, you have thought about this too.

Sometimes, I dare to fantasise about us, and I truly commit to it. I picture myself coming home to you and leaving my bags on the kitchen counter after I take off my shoes in the entrance. I picture myself brushing my teeth next to you at night, and blushing, because you stare at me, and when I ask why, you reply with a simple ‘nothing’, with adoring eyes. I picture myself falling asleep next to you in your parent’s house when we visit them in the weekend.

But, I already have that with someone, and so do you.

Am I awful? Are the tears on the paper enough evidence that I am not proud of thinking about you that way? Maybe the reason I daydream so often is because I’m aware that our home can only reside in my mind.

James, sometimes it hurts. I keep telling myself that I must be mental, that all the love behind your eyes is platonic, but I know you enough, I think? And I see how you talk, and the way that you show people that you care. And yes, there’s love behind your eyes with them, but I see longing behind them when we find each other’s gaze. I see unspoken answers to questions we don’t need to ask, because we know. We both know, don’t we? 

I’m scared beyond my mind that time won’t heal us. I’m scared that time will make us fall harder. I’m scared I won’t just get a scrapped knee but a broken bone. Or a broken heart. 

You will never read this letter. Maybe in our next life we’ll meet each other sooner or with our hearts uncalled for, maybe distance won't be necessary. Maybe we won't allow our feelings to be caged, protected, separated, never close enough to touch. 

So, I will say it, in the sanctity of my journal I will open the cage, just once, because I must admit it; I love you, James. I love you hopelessly, I fear. I love you, even if you are far from what I know I want. Because I shouldn’t want you James, it doesn’t make sense, it didn’t a year ago and it still doesn’t now. I’m sorry, that non of us are brave enough to change or to try. 

I love you, and that is why I will close the cage again, and I will throw away the key. 

Hopefully yours one day,

R.A.B

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Rayllum Month 2024! (6/13)

i'm sorry that i couldn't always be your teenage dream

July 11th - Dream/Nightmare

~

Callum was dreaming again, and it wasn’t even a good one. It wasn’t even original. It was the same old shit he thought he’d worked through, but apparently “shoving into an itty-bitty box in the corner of his mind” didn’t count as “working through.”

Not being fast enough to catch Rayla as she fell, mangled body caught in a thorny bramble or never to surface again from the watery depths. Holding her as the life left her body because of something Aaravos had used him to do. Ezran’s blood blending into his shirt and Callum not having a clue he was dead until he found what should have been his pulse point and smelled the metallic scent of blood, Soren and Corvus’s necks slit as they died defending him. All because of him, because of the things he’d done for Rayla, because he just couldn’t live without her, that had led to a continent-wide bloodbath.

At least he’d finally stopped dreaming about what had happened back on the Sea Legs. But emotional pain was arguably a million times worse than physical. But, hey; options to pick from, Soren would’ve said in an attempt to cheer him up but ending up doing nothing of the sort. How had his life come to this, pain in every aspect of the word?

Callum wasn’t sure at what point he woke up, when the horrors his brain so loved to produce stopped being from his subconscious and started to come from how he tortured himself. 

Gradually, the world fading into focus but doing nothing to calm his racing heart, things became visible: His very first drawing of Rayla pinned up on his bulletin board across the room, a maroon tapestry patterned with swirling gold, teal covers over his too-hot body. Feeling and hearing came back next, and he dimly registered a hand stroking his hair, another loosely settled on his middle. Familiar callouses, familiar temperature, familiar body shape– Rayla without a doubt.

Callum clung onto that, onto that certainty that she was here, holding him and murmuring things into his hair that he couldn’t make out but at least sounded vaguely soothing.

“Ray-” His tongue felt heavy, like he didn’t deserve to say her name. Callum didn’t let himself finish her name or even start to say it again, simply desperately grasped the hand around his waist.

“I’m here. You’re okay,” the elf soothed, squeezing his hand tight. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe, I’m safe, Ez is safe. You have nothing to immediately worry about, I promise.”

Callum nodded, trying to let– make himself believe it with those two blasted Dark Mages out there, that damn elf in the mirror. The prison so close it would be nothing for Aaravos to just- take hold of him again and set himself free. Gods, he might be sick.

He gripped her tightly, trying to calm his racing heart by focusing on the feeling of Rayla’s hands on him, her sweet voice humming some old calming tune.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he said eventually, mouth dry, “but why are you in my bed?”

He could hear the almost unnoticeable catch in her voice, loud as thunder to his trained ears, practically see her eyes drop down as she replied so softly, “I heard you crying out and stuff. I didn’t want to wake you up, just… thought you could maybe use a hug.”

He pulled her hand around his waist, nestling further back into her, and felt her smile into his hair. "You thought right."

Read more on AO3!

[cherrywritter]

Falsas Desculpas - Background

4ª semana de outubro

Dick se viu em uma posição nada agradável após retornarem da missão que colocou em risco Conner e Vic. Alfred, sendo a voz sábia da família, insistiu para que o jovem patrão conversasse com a senhorita Wayne e encontrasse uma forma de conviver bem com ela antes que houvesse mais problemas. Sinceramente, ele não tinha vontade alguma de se encontrar com ela e se desculpar, mas se não o fizesse, as coisas se complicariam ainda mais em relação a convivência entre eles na Caverna e nas missões posteriores.

Caminhou pela Caverna até ficar frente a frente com a porta do quarto de Vic. Respirou fundo, olhou para os lados e resmungou antes de bater no metal e aguardar uma reposta. Na verdade, ele torcia para que não houvesse uma. Para que ela já tivesse retornado a Gotham. Ao abrir a porta, Vic o encarou sem entender o que ele estava fazendo ali e não o deixou entrar. Não queria que ele entrasse em seu canto sagrado e muito menos que continuasse a fuçar suas atividades como vinha fazendo desde que ela havia colocado os pés ali.

- O que você quer? – Ela questionou.

- Vim pedir desculpas. – Dick respondeu de maneira seca.

- Não preciso de falsas desculpas, Dick. Você não gosta de mim, não confia em mim, mas entenda uma coisa: não preciso da sua aprovação para estar aqui. A aprovação que me importa, eu já a tenho. Sinto sua energia e ela não emana arrependimento.

- Você não sabe de nada sobre mim.

- É, eu não sei. Mas poderia saber ao ler sua mente. – Victoria disse sorrindo. – A sua sorte é que eu respeito sua privacidade. Quando quiser se desculpar de verdade, estarei aqui para te receber. Já estou acostumada a ser tratada como objeto e com desrespeito, mas manterei meu profissionalismo e farei o meu melhor para que você não morra em uma missão assim como terei a mesma dedicação para com todos.

- Está tentando contar pontos com o papai? – Disse com ironia. – Deixa-me te dizer uma coisa, ele decepciona a todos e vai te decepcionar também. – Vic revirou os olhos.

- Sabe do que você precisa? De terapia. Decepções acontecem e você foi uma para mim, mas isso não me impediu de conviver contigo e nem de te dar uma segunda chance. Apenas um aviso: se encostar mais uma vez um dedo sequer no meu pai, eu quebro a sua mão. Lide com as suas frustrações de maneira racional e se tiver algum problema comigo, resolva comigo como dois adultos fariam.

- Bruce sabe que você ameaça pessoas? - Por quê? Vai correr e contar para o papai? – Riu com sarcasmo. – Não seja hipócrita, Dick, até porque agora pareceu que quem quer contar pontos com ele é você.

[anxietycroissant]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53432845/chapters/143045854

Chapter 11 (how did this get so long) of my crazy dreams story is posted! Aka Carmy gets to know Bryan. I think I maybe only have one more chapter to go!

[benispunk]

Okay guys I’m done with the fanfic plan, I finally know exactly where the fic is going, I wrote two chapters and I want to write at least the first five chapters so that I can give you something regularly !!! This will be about 20 chapters, not that long, and I just hope you’ll like it 🥹🥹 it’s coming soon I promise !!!

[carly-2098]

I wish I could have someone to rant about my hyperfixation to, cause apparently no one wants to hear me talk about American rock band my chemical romance, good omens and ao3

[idollete]

mood do dia: escrevendo fanfic 💭🤓☝🏻🎀

acho que hoje/na madrugada vem algo aí hein hein hein

[dear-trash-diary]

Seems like this is page 1. Wow, 1989…

[juneberrie]

— 🎄 spending christmas with percy

so ur spending the holidays with percy, which means ur staying with sally, paul, and estelle

sally is fawning over you and basically being the best ever; she makes you cookies and makes your fave foods and is generally just <3 best mom ever

estelle is stealing you away from percy and showing you all her toys <3 you two manage to get sallys makeup (aka she was like "give her a makeover <3") and some clothes of hers/percy's and put on a fashion show!

she's made you a macaroni necklace :( percy has a matching one :(

percys arm is around you as you two watch a christmas movie with sally, paul, and estelle and he's rubbing circles on your shoulder

every few seconds he reaches over to grab popcorn from the bowl in ur lap and he uses it as an excuse to press a kiss to your cheek or your temple

when you guys open gifts, you two are just laughing along with sally and paul as she runs around handing people their gifts

every time she gets a gift she's like :D and presses a kith to whoever the gifter is and she's like "thank youuuuuu so much!!!!"

estelle is adorable <3

when percy hands you his gift hes so cute ab it :( "babe, i got you this!! open it open it!!"

will ask you if you like it :( say yes

when you give him his gift from u hes like ":( babe u shouldn't have!! i already have you, i dont need anything else <3" and kisses you multiple times in thanks :)

anyways fast forward to christmas day:

estelle wakes you both up by screeching "PERCY YN SANTA CAME!! THERES PRESENTS!!"

percy laughs as she drags you out of bed and into the living room! where there are presents under the tree!!

estelle is giggling as she tears open the wrapping to all her presents and shrieks when she gets the ariel dress she wanted <3

she goes over to you two, hands you a box, and is like "this ones for youuu :)) i wonder what it could be :))"

you open it and its the book you've been wanting!!

"aww, stella, how'd you know i wanted this?? thank you angel!!"

she smiles, showing off her missing front tooth, and points at percy. "helped me :))"

"aw, perce. thank you <3"

he kisses ur forehead and turns back to watch estelle rush into the kitchen to get a gingerbread cookie from sally.

"anything for you, honey."

[cancerian-woman]

hi, meet the dear little witch-verse. Right now, only the prologue is shared but more to come.

dear little witch: Bonnie Bennett has held plenty of titles. A daughter, friend, teen witch, and a former wife. The most important one to her now was mother and business owner. She earned this life for herself and would be damned if she lost. A witch’s premonition is nothing to ignore. Bonnie values her life away from Mystic Falls and returning wasn’t likely for her until her daughter’s safety was compromised. The Salvatore Boarding School would change everything for the Bennett witches. Secrets will unfold and time can only tell what’s to come next. Hope Mikaelson won’t be the only one with her world turned upside down. Family is forever, whether anyone likes it or not. Everything is done in the name of family. -an au of TVD/TO post season 8 & 4 of TO.

You might remember a bit of this AU from here.