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darklydeliciousdesires · 17 days

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Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Seven.

Second update is here, besties! This is basically shaping up to be a novel, the 20th chapter just begun in the writing and I am loving every last second of creating their story! Just to note, too, the song Picses that is mentioned is a real song, by the band Jinjer, the musical claim for Jade's voice and Seventh Gate on a whole. Give it a listen, it's beautiful.

Big thanks to my tiny audience for your commitment to reading. I see a few of you liking it but remaining quiet. I would so love to hear from you, if you'd be so kind to drop a little comment, and even better, add a reblog to help me get a bit more exposure. Thanks guys :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,047

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Ahh, he has arrived. Dogs, come on. This show of frenzy is not becoming of you.”

Patrick Brody; he could never just greet someone with a simple hello, letting his son into the house on Christmas morning. He at least gave Adrien a big hug while he was being dived all over by two very excitable Pit Bull terriers, though.

“Merry Christmas, pop,” he spoke with affection, his dad nodding and smiling.

“Same extended in return. Now, your mother is in the kitchen, if you will excuse me, I am slowly working myself through what’s left of my Tanqueray while I ruminate on Keats and a little Joy Division. It’s great to see you, though. I’ll be out when the food is done.”

Ahh, he was in one of his moods, chasing a slither of melancholy. Why he’d chosen Christmas morning to do such was beyond Adrien, but he was used to the strange habits of his fiercely intellectual father. The last time he’d visited, it was Sangria paired with The Rolling Stones and a book on the art of John Williams Waterhouse.

Truly, there was nobody like his father. Or his mother.

“Is that my boy?”

“Sure is,” Adrien called, placing the large bag of gifts he’d brought beneath the tree in the lounge, walking down to the kitchen to see her emerge, her arms held wide. “Merry Christmas, ma.”

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she spoke, pulling him into a hug. “Is your father still absconding?”

“He is,” he confirmed, giving the dogs a little more attention before following her down the hall.

“You know, I thought he’d get out of that whole tortured artist bit when he hit thirty,” Lois voiced, hurrying back into the kitchen to check on the gaggle of pots occupying the stove. “Never damned well happened!” Turning the burners down, she glided to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine with raised eyebrows. “I got this or beer? Up to you.”

“I’ll take a beer, but let me, mom. You have enough to do, or I can stir something?” He made a move off the high stool, watching his mother race towards him, waving her hands.

“You will stay away from the cooker, Adrien Nicholas Brody!” she warned, unscrewing the top and handing him the bottle. “You’re a liability.”

His face was a picture of affronted. “Says the woman who’s set fire to her own hair how many times?”

Pointing at him, she waved her finger, starting to laugh softly in spite of herself. “Fucking smart ass, is what you are.”

“I get it from you, ma,” he teased, reaching for Ginsberg’s giant head when the dog made it clear he required further petting, Bukowski pottering around in the hallway, shaking the hell out of a brand-new chew toy. Moving over to the balcony, he turned the key and slid the door, letting himself out into the cold Christmas morning, lighting up a cigarette.

“Still smoking, huh?” his mother observed, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t start bitching. Not with how many you used to chain a day,” he warned, raising an eyebrow.

Picking up her wine, she felt confident to leave the food for five minutes, joining him out on the balcony. “Wasn’t going to. I could do with one. Gimme.” Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled the pack out, Lois taking one and leaning to the light he offered, the smell of the lighter fluid mixing pleasantly with the tobacco. Taking a long drag, she immediately looked more blissful.

“Oh, full tar. Good boy,” she sighed, kissing his shoulder as she rubbed his arm.

“Not my choice, I stole them from my girlfriend,” he confessed, watching her eyes widen.

“Excuse me, son of mine?” Her exclamation was coupled with the usual wild gesticulating, arms flying expressively. “Girlfriend, you just drop that in there casually, that there’s a girlfriend on the scene now?”

He laughed softly through his nose, looking out across the white landscape below. “Yeah, there’s a girlfriend. It’s been three and a half months now.”

Lois wound her hand expectantly. “And? Name, age, what does she do? Please don’t tell me it’s another bullshit model who doesn’t know shit from Shinola. I can’t bear the idea of you bringing another pretty dullard into my goddamned house!”

“You liked Sofia,” he protested.

“Sofia was well read, she was interested in other cultures, she’d travelled. She was an anomaly. Anyway, we don’t talk about her any longer! Tell me about the girl,” she demanded, her eyes full of excitement.

“Her name is Jade, she’s thirty-one, and she’s the vocalist for a band called Seventh Gate. And she acts as well.”

Lois paused, her wine glass almost reaching her mouth, her other hand moving to grip, and then softly shake his forearm. “You’re dating Jade Burton?”

Wait. How did his mother even know who she was? “Hold on, you know who she is?”

Her finger thrust towards the kitchen, her entire arm waving. “That new canvas I have out in the hallway? I painted that listening to Black Electric Wasteland.”

Their second album, but how... how did his mother know that? “Who are you, and what have you done with Lois?”

“Oh, come on! You know I listen to rock! I’ve got Sabbath and Def Leopard albums in my collection,” she exclaimed, taking another drag on her cigarette.

“Yeah, but Seventh Gate is way heavier than that. It’s the musical equivalent of having a safe dropped on your head.”

She snorted into her wine glass. “And how the hell do you know? You only listen to music made by fellas with gold teeth who wear jeans nine sizes too big!”

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that. “Because that’s how I met her. I got talked to going to the Rock and Iron festival with Lewis while I was in LA. The first time I met Jade was when she jumped onto the barrier and screamed about in an inch from my face.” That particular revelation delighted his mother, imagining it. He went on to explain a little more, how he’d met her properly backstage, thought she was incredible and swiftly decided in a moment of madness to join the tour for a week.

“Good for you, god! You didn’t do anything like this in your teens, you were always so focused. Why not in your thirties? And look what came of it, you’re dating a legend! Oh, mother of pearl, that girl’s voice!” Flicking her finished cigarette over the rail, she bustled back inside, locating her phone and swiping around, putting it in the dock and pressing play. “I love this song. Pisces. Please tell me you’ve heard it?”

He had, since it had been in their setlist on tour. They stood silently as they listened to the opening bars, Lois softly singing along to the melodic opening, clasping a hand to her chest. “I adore her! All of them, such talented girls!”

Adrien was still stuck in the realms of huge surprise that his mother had not only heard of Seventh Gate, but was a fan, too, when the kitchen door opened, his father walking in.

“Interesting harmonies, and the chord progression is stunning work. Who is this?”

“Adrien’s girlfriend and her band. They’re the girls whose music inspired my painting!” Lois replied with enthusiasm, continuing to softly sing as her husband topped up his gin. “You’ll never believe what he did, Patrick. Meets her at a show and then, he just hops on a tour bus with her for a week. Just like that!”

His father paused, eyebrows raised. “You and five women absconded to a bus for a week,” he mused, sipping his gin. “A lesser man might make a joke about such setting tongues wagging, but it feels a little too low brow.” Another sip of gin was taken. “How is your tongue, by the way?”

Patrick Brody; he was a man entirely too witty for his own good.

Adrien closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. “You’re fucking terrible.”

“I’m an effervescent delight. And you? You’ve now officially cemented yourself as a groupie.” Closing the fridge, he stood for a moment, tapping his foot as he continued to listen. “Yes. I like it, mmhmm.”

Adrien couldn’t help but grin. “Just wait for the chorus.”

His dad looked curious for all of five seconds, before the tempo changed drastically, both musically and vocally. “What in the?” he exclaimed, wide eyed, scratching his chin. “That’s a woman?”

“Yep,” Adrien confirmed, “that’s my girl.”

He listened a little longer, sipping his drink. “Does she need a priest? It sounds like she has a demon.”

Immediately, Lois pointed at the door. “Get out of my kitchen at once, you lousy philistine!” Their little double act had their only child laughing quietly, thinking his dad truly wasn’t all too wrong. After all, he’d likened that ripsaw roar to something hell had spat up too upon first hearing it. “When can I meet her?”

He knew he’d have that question directed at him sooner rather than later. “I’ll arrange something with her and get back to you. I have five weeks before I’m away again, we can come over one afternoon, or meet you guys in the city?”

“I’d love that, yes. So, tell me more about her, then,” she requested, her eyes lighting up. She could see it so clearly, how smitten her son was. “She’s British, isn’t she?”

“British-Sicilian. She was born in Palermo. Arrived three months earlier than expected while her mom was over there visiting family, backpacking with her dad.”

“Oh!” she cried, resting a hand to her chest. “She was a little preemie baby? How dear.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “almost didn’t make it, weighed about three pounds when she was born. I like to think she defied all the odds stacked against her, though.” He smiled, thinking of her fortitude, her toughness to do the job that she did, and at the standard she did it. “She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

Lois studied him for a moment, beginning to nod. Finally, he’d met the one who she sensed wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry. “I’m going to love her, aren’t I?”

Watching that sly smile, he looked away for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Yeah. You really, really are.” She left all talk of the new girl there, going back to the cooker and inquiring over how everything else was in her son’s life as she stirred and tinkered.

Meanwhile, over in Harlem, Jade found herself in a similar surrounding. Except in her family, you pitched in, or you got the hell out of the way.

“Steven!” Gemma yelled, her husband jumping a foot in the air. “If I have told you once, I have told you a million times, stop stealing the turkey skin!”

“Why? You don’t like it, Rachel is a fussy vegan, Jade doesn’t care, and Marco isn’t even here. Allow a man to have his simple pleasures, my little snap dragon,” he teased, winking when his daughters began to laugh, Jade making a snappy motion with her hand towards the back of her mother’s head. It was very weird, for her brother not to be there, this year staying in LA with his new boyfriend, Jack and his family.

“Your parents like it, and I finally have the skin nice and crisp, so it’ll give your mother one less thing to complain about,” she replied, physically hip bumping Jade down a little as she poured cream into the potatoes, ready to mash into a pulp.

“Go, go on, out of my way!”

“You called me in to carve the bird, Gemma,” he reminded her, taking the large knife the younger of his daughter’s passed over to him.

“Well then do it instead of standing there slowly making a start on eating it!”

Jade quickly finished her potato-based endeavours, reaching for the bottle of scotch on the side, topping up her mother’s glass and adding ice from the fridge dispenser. “Mum, drink that before you give yourself a heart attack and thus make dad have to work on his day off.”

“Open heart surgery on the tiles with a carving knife,” he chimed, examining the blade. “I think I could make do.”

The family all paused to laugh, Gemma taking the drink passed to her gratefully, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s waist. “Thanks, buba.” Taking a sip, she then widened her eyes. “Rachel!” Check what time we’re on. I need to put the beans on at the very last minute, so they don’t overcook.”

“Can’t, mama. My phone is in the lounge.”

“Check mine,” Jade spoke, “It’s on the counter.”

Illuminating the screen, Rachel took in the time, as well as something else notable. “It’s two twenty-one, and sis, why do you have a picture of Adrien Brody as your screen lock? Are you fangirling?”

“No,” she beamed, “but I am dating him. That’s the news I had to share before I got wrapped up in the Christmas chaos.”

Immediately, her right eardrum was almost blown out. “What the utter bloody hell, Jade Lucia? You’re... and... seriously? Adrien Brody, really?”

“Mum, you’re making it sound like he has two heads, or like I have. I’m not sure which is worse,” she chirped, reaching for her wine and taking a big gulp.

Gemma nudged her with a soft elbow. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it! So, come on. Tell us everything!”

“Not everything,” her dad mumbled, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I wanna know everything,” Rachel piped up, nodding towards the door. “Get out, dad. I wanna hear if he’s good in bed or not.”

He instantly looked mildly mortified, scrunching his eyes tightly shut. “Pretending I didn’t hear that,” he sang, shaking his head, “wishing you were still two and six instead of these grown women who let penises near you.”

Jade almost choked on her wine for her laughter, Steven finishing his very neat and precise carving, nothing less than anybody expected for a surgeon to accomplish. “I am leaving you to your women’s talk. I shall be in the lounge, eating my nougat.”

As soon as he was gone, two sets of eyes turned to her. “Tell us everything!” they both spoke at once, Gemma especially excited as she bounced on her heels a little. Her darling mother still had that silliness of youth about her, a very young fifty. With preparations all done for the moment, they stood and listened as Jade regaled them with the story, even grabbing her phone to show them the picture taken literally at the exact moment they’d first met, Jade bellowing a scream right in his face.

“What, so he just blew off his commitments and got on a bus with you?” her mother cried, sipping her drink, looking absolutely delighted.

“He did, and yeah. We fell in love,” she confessed, beaming as they cooed, Rachel moving to hug her.

“That’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever heard! Aww!” she spoke, kissing her sister’s cheek fondly. “You’re keeping it quiet, I gotta say. Haven’t seen any pictures of you guys together in the press or anything.”

“Well, we haven’t been out together much,” she admitted, fiddling with her necklace, one he bought for her three days previously when he came back into the city. “There have been a couple, though.” A little lament sounded in her sigh, knowing of course it would happen sooner or later, being that she was relatively well known, and Adrien of course very famous. “Thank fuck there wasn’t any after what happened with Jen. Nobody got pictures of him there, which I’m glad of. I don’t want anything like that possibly impacting him negatively.”

Gemma’s eyes widened. “He was there when it happened?”

Gulping at the memory of that terrifying day, she fortified herself with a mouthful of wine. “He was. He’s the one who found her. He saved her life.”

The eldest of the Burton women let out a little gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “God above, I can’t imagine how I’d react.”

“Horrible as it was for him, he was probably the best person to find her,” she admitted, “he’s very steady and pragmatic, very calm. He doesn’t get flustered easily at all. I doubt any of us would have thought to check for her stash, Jess’s weed too and get rid of it so nobody got arrested and made an already nightmarish situation a thousand times worse.”

“What a good guy, wow. And how is my beautiful Jen now?” Gemma asked. Jen had always been her favourite, looking at the kitchen table and being able to picture her there, drumming upon the surface with a couple of pencils as a gawky, fifteen-year-old kid with bright pink hair. That very brownstone was where Seventh Gate had begun, their rehearsals confined to the basement, the girls all coming over after school every day to practice for hours.

Jade smiled, remembering her last phone call with her. “She’s doing okay. The first week withdrawing was hell, but better than it could have been since she wasn’t a long-term, substantial user. She’s doing the twenty-eight-day program but is open to staying longer if she feels like she needs to.”

Feeling a little teary, she took a breath, stilling the little emotional vortex that began to swirl. Of course, true to her nature, she only let herself feel it momentarily before she hardened herself. “I’m so proud of her. She was just like, ‘I have a problem and I need to get help in fixing it, because I ain’t going out like that, I’m not scaring you guys that bad ever again’, so checked herself into Urban Recovery in Brooklyn as soon as she got back to the city.”

She remembered how small and broken she’d looked the day after her overdose, seeing here there in hospital, trying to remain upbeat. Jen never cried, the epitome of a tough New York girl, but as soon as she’d seen Adrien, she’d burst into tears, apologising for putting him through something like that and thanking him over and over for saving her life.

Speaking of the man himself, after they had both spent the day with their families, they met up again that evening at Jade’s apartment in the West Village, Adrien flecked with a sprinkling of snow as he arrived. Christmas in New York was her favourite time of the year, loving watching it tumble from the sky through the two floor to ceiling windows in her living room.

The space was airy and light, yet sumptuously cozy, candles dotted around lighting every surface, a very big but tastefully decorated tree in the corner of the apartment, the warm white lights twinkling beautifully against the minimal ornaments. They shared a bottle of red wine while exchanging gifts, Jade buying him a whole heap of things she knew he liked, his favourite perhaps being a little crochet doll of a bald, bespectacled man in an orange robe on a bicycle. It took him a good five minutes to stop laughing.

“His holiness on a bicycle, oh god, I love it!” he hissed, reaching for the last gift in the pile.

“Now this one has had me riddled with anxiety over whether you’ll like it or not, and I just have to hope to hell that you do!” she spoke, Adrien opening the paper with curiosity, pulling out a white label record from within.

“The boy from Queens?” he spoke, looking at the title written on there with a Sharpie, nothing else denoting anything. “Who’s it by?”

Pointing at her record player in the corner, she smiled. “It’s an original collaboration. Put it on and find out.” Heaving himself off the couch, he walked over and did exactly that, placing the vinyl down atop the player and switching it on, carefully lining the needle up. As soon as he heard the opening beats, he spun to stare at her.

“What did you do, Burtie?” he spoke, his smile beginning to spread. His mouth then fell open completely, hearing the vocal intro that was Method Man himself, dropping rhymes over his beats.

Burtie. She loved that particular cute little nickname, breathing a huge sigh of relief at his reaction. “I played him some samples of those beat tracks you sent me, shared a few lyrical ideas to tailor it, added to it, and we recorded it upstairs after you’d left last week. You do not even want to know how much it cost me to get it pressed at such short notice as a one off, but you’re worth every cent, my darling.”

Standing there listening, the clever lyrics all relating to him, he was floored. Utterly stunned. “This is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me!” he spoke, nodding his head, “damn, that’s so sick! Baby, thank you so much. Seriously, this is the best.”

“Isn’t it, though? And you’re welcome,” she beamed, elated that he was enjoying something she’d worked so hard on collaboratively. It was always great to hang out with her friend, having Clifford there for nineteen hours straight working on it. Getting to work with him on something so personal up in her little recording space had been an unforgettable experience, though.

Once the track had finished, he came back over to her, lifting up the large gift he’d brought for her, giving her a kiss before sitting down beside where she was comfortably resting in her gigantic bean bag. “Here, I’d say I hope you’ll like it, but I know you definitely will.”

Taking it from him, she propped it back against her large coffee table, picking at the corner before gently tearing the paper. The squeak that bubbled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth made his stomach prickle with joy, watching her so excited.

“Oh my life!” More of the canvas was revealed, Jade flapping her hands as she bounced a little, eyes widening. “Oh my fucking god, Adrien!”

“And I’m deaf. Again,” he joked, pushing a finger against his ear and giving it a little wiggle to stop the ringing her scream had evoked.

Her mouth hung open, looking between him and the painting, more noises of approval sounding. “You bought me a Beksinski original?”

Zdzislaw Beksinski was her favourite artist, the Polish painter and photographer whose medium was dark and macabre, the original painting discovered by Adrien after scouring the internet, finding it for sale through a private collector. It had been worth every single ounce of hassle in getting it shipped over from Germany, the insurance, the customs debacle, the mild heart attack he’d suffered at hearing it might not arrive in time for Christmas, just to see the look of such pure, unfiltered happiness on her face.

“He... he touched this,” she whispered, her fingers gently gliding over the ridges of the oil paint, every swirl and groove, shaking her head in amazement. “Baby, I love it. Thank you! Come here, my handsome mans.” Pulling him into her arms, she showered him with kisses, utterly delighted to have received such a thoughtful gift. She shuddered to think what he must have shelled out for it. Beksinski’s work went for tens of thousands.

Admiring it as she leaned back against his chest, she honestly couldn’t remember the last Christmas she’d felt quite as elated as she did in that moment, in the arms of her love, cozy and warm as outside, the snow continued to cover Manhattan in a thick blanket of glistening white.

“I got you something else, too.” Picking up a small package, he handed it to her, Jade feeling something she instantly recognised within. Pulling it out, there in her hand lay a looped up, long coil of dark blue bondage rope, her grin widening so much, he couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Put your hand in my bra right now and check out what just seeing this has done to my nipples.” He obliged, giving the left one a little stroke. It was like a bullet. “Okay we’re going to bed right now.”

It was the exact reaction he’d been looking for.

#adrien brody fanfiction #adrien brody smut #adrien brody #adrien brody fanfic #adrien brody fic #adrien brody x ofc #sky full of stars #adrien and jade

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houseofhurricane · 1 year

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I’m going to start posting my next long fanfic next week, and, twist! It’s not ACOTAR.

I’m writing a Dramione fic called Against Nostalgia, and the first chapter drops on January 19. I’ll be updating with a new chapter every Thursday until it’s done.

The vibe is: novel-length dark academia meets literary fiction meets early slow burn with eventual unhinged smut, smart people being smart and occasionally duelling, and me working through all the questions that came up for me when I read the Harry Potter series as an adult. Also did I mention that Hermione is a visiting History of Magic professor at Hogwarts, where Draco teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts after being injured in the field as an Auror?

I legitimately am having so much fun writing this, am working with beta readers for the first time (they are glorious and I owe them each a kidney), and this will very likely end up being the longest and maybe even best thing I’ve ever written.

So here comes the question: do you want to be on my taglist? All you need to do is like, comment, or reblog this post and you’ll be added.

Want to know what my Dramione is like? Keep reading for a sneak peek of the first chapter.

The Forbidden Forest is so dark around him that Draco moves on instinct alone, his Auror training leading him towards the scent of Dark magic. He ignores the burn in his forearm, the Mark that’s hidden under his robes and the thick jumper beneath them.

Even in August, the land around Hogwarts is fucking freezing.

But then, Draco is used to the trees that blot out starlight and the pain that blurs the sharp edges of his thoughts. He’s made these little jaunts for three years now, in colder weather.

What concerns him now, more than cold or darkness or pain, is the threatening tone in the barely-ciphered note he’d received in the early hours of the morning, Ulysses banging against the window in his haste to get inside, leaving gouges on the glass with his talons.

If you liked what you read and you want to know when new chapters are posted, let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist. See you on January 19 🧡

#dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione fandom #the writer is taking a break from acotar #the writer has become obsessed with dramione #dramione taglist #harry potter fanfiction

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melodygatesauthor · 9 months

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Weekly Update

8/27/2023

Announcements/Reminders

Next week is my 1 year ficversary! - I'll be doing a BIG post and a tiny celebration for that since I just had a celebration for my 2k followers.

I'm taking art commissions! - Pricing - Follow my art blog: @melodymakesart

Fic Updates

Disclaimer - I never know which way the winds of inspiration will blow. Timeframes aren’t a promise/guarantee, they’re a goal.

Fic Updates Legend:

Blue - Update this week

Pink - Update in progress

Red - Backburner Fic (not currently working on. See WIP list for status)

You can find my current WIP list here

Chaptered Fic Updates

A Bit Dodgy - Chapter 17 is coming tomorrow! I don't think it will be out early in the morning like usual but it will be out tomorrow at some point during the day!

Always Yours, Never Mine - Chapter 4 is in progress, hoping to have the next update out in the next couple of weeks!

The Fractured Moon - My primary focus this past week has been getting A Bit Dodgy finished, and also working on getting the requests and stuff for my 2k celebration done. I'll be working on part 4 of TFM this week to hopefully post next week!

Remember to look at my WIP list for other backburner fics

Mini-series Updates

Feeling You Can’t Fight - Chapter 3 is done! I had meant to get editing done for this fic last week but it got away from me! I'll be working on it this week.

All on the backburner for now but will get additional chapters soon:

Not a Doctor - Part 2

Worth the Risk - Part 3

AI Character Bot Updates

I currently have the following bots on my list that I’m working on. If you have any suggestions or additions you’d like, please feel free to ask! I won’t make every single one I get asked for but I’ll make some of them as I get time!

DBF Jake and Steven (I already did Marc...did I ever post him? I thought I did but maybe not)

Patient Steven and Marc

Moon Knight Rescue scenario

Am I missing any? Don't see one on the list that you want to add? Send me an inbox or private message! No promises, but if I like the idea I'll make an AI bot.

I think that's all for now! Much love!

Don't forget to follow my other blogs:

@melodymakesart - My art blog

@lockandkeynovel - The blog for my original fiction novel, Lock & Key

@melodyreadsfanfiction - The blog where I reblog works I intend to read, a good place for fanfic readers to follow!

@melodygatesupdates - This is where I'll reblog any chapter updates for my fics and whatnot. This is what I use instead of a tag list!

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #melody gates weekly updates #melody talks #jake lockley #melodys weekly updates #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse

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miraculousstories · 7 months

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List of my fav mlb fanfics no one asked for:

(this is a very long list btw, and all links are to ao3. I try to include as many warnings as possible, but I may forget some so please read the tags before reading the fic.)

Baby Boom by ShawnaCanon

It’s about an akuma that causes everyone in Paris to… do the deed… (not graphic) and every woman to get pregnant. It somehow evolves into a timetravel fic-

400,000 words- def recommend for readers who are okay with vague references to sex.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034028/chapters/55083382

Dearly Despised (I Love You) by snacc-noir

Lovely fic. A nice take on the adrienette enemies to lovers trope, and it adds in some fake dating. Cn and Lb start out as (more or less) lovers in the beginning, and it evolves from there. It’s not a finished fic, but still, if you’re willing to wait then read.

73,000 words so far (I’ll update as time goes on) and 33 chapters- totally clean fic, I recommend if you love enemies to lovers trope.

(Last update on the fic was 10/20/2023)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711611/chapters/70393941

Turn Loose the Mermaids by bookskitten

WONDERFUL. That is all I have to say about this. One of my personal favorites for sure- it’s a mermaid au where Marinette is a siren hellbent on dragging the captain of a ship (who just so happens to be Adrien- aka Captain Noir)down to the depths of the ocean… but you know it won’t end that simply.

64,000 words- WARNING- GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF SEX. I do not recommend for anyone not comfortable with that sort of thing. But if you are, go read! I promise it’ll be worth your time.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238214/chapters/18879793

Cut My Life into Pieces, This is My Last Resort by Silver_fox_fyre

This was… an interesting one to say the least. In this, Marinette is at the end of the rope- struggling with being both Marinette and Ladybug. So, of course the logical decision would be to fake her own death. Well, Marinette’s death, that is. Be warned, some of the excuses are kind of a long shot (for instance, she fakes her own death by using the mouse miraculous- only she doesn’t actually have the costume, she just looks normal.)

114,000 words- completely clean- characters do fall asleep on each other like…once, but nothing happens. Some passionate kisses, but that’s all. Lots of violence though, and blood and gore are a given. Character death is included as well. I recommend for braver readers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44353420/chapters/111546223

In Case You Don’t Know Me Tomorrow by thelibraryloser

This one is… an interesting one at best, a strange one at worst. The idea itself is that this is a universe where you can pay to have your memories erased. (No plot spoilers there) everyone is aged up in this, maybe around 20, 25. Non-magical universe as well.

56,000 words- a good fic, I’ll say, but it is a bit weird and I got bored of it at times. But stick around to the end and you’ll be rewarded, I promise. Clean as well, don’t worry.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41522079/chapters/104136594

Miraculous Magic: First Year by spetember

*gasp* Is this- it is! The mlb/Harry Potter crossover you’ve all been waiting for!! Marinette and Adrien are 11 year olds who have just received their Hogwarts acceptance letters. They receive magical artifacts- and are told by Headmaster Fu that they must strive to defeat the Dark Lord Hawkmoth. They are 11, so while Mari does develop a crush for Adrien near the end of the fic, there isn’t much love. But honestly? I didn’t miss it. There’s so much action- I loved it. I’m thinking of writing spin-off fics about the other years, so if I do I’ll post the link in the reblogs.

58,000 words- wonderful. Simply wonderful. Mild violence, but no worse than the actual Harry Potter. Nothing related to love, as I mentioned. They are 11 after all. If you are in both the hp and mlb fandoms, I def recommend.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558436/chapters/25960689

Longest Night by P_Artsypants

Whump fic. Must I go on? Jokes aside, this fic is amazing. Marinette and Adrien are captured by some psychopath, and are tortured. I mean really tortured. Like I had to walk away at times it was so much- and this is coming from the person who regularly reads violence and smut. But if you can make it through, it’s a wonderful story. I don’t wanna spoil anything… but they do make it out alive. Well… kinda. I’ll let you read to find out.

210,000 words- Okay, I know I like to joke around a lot, but this time I’m serious. This is a very graphic fic which includes torture, and I mean real torture- not just the stuff you see on TV, but the stuff you see in R- rated horror movies. The fic actually references that the plot is similar to a horror film that actually got banned from almost every country in the world because it was so horrible. (The fic isn’t as bad as the film, but it is kinda horrifying.) Just for reference, here’s some torture tactics they use: Forced piercings, locked in a closet for a month, food loafs (a bunch of leftover food that’s baked with poison that makes you hallucinate) and.. well, there’s blood. I’ll just say that much. PLEASE use caution when reading, I will not say that again. For extremely brave readers only. Oh, and a side not- not completely clean. There is a sex scene at the end, which is skippable but if you are comfortable I would read it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19855210/chapters/47019550

The Strings of Fate by sailortwilightt

OKAY BACK TO THE NICE FICS. This is actually a two-parter, and it’s nail-biting good. It’s a soulmate AU, naturally, where an invisible red string takes you to your soulmate. Please note that this is an older fic written before the more recent seasons, so Emilie, for example, is not dead. This also evolves into an alternate dimension AU, and it has a great plot.

120,000 words- counting both fics. As warnings go, there isn’t much to warn. It’s clean as far as smut goes, and, while there is definitely some graphic violence scenes, nothing too bad. I recommend for the reader who isn’t too bothered by the canon-fanon differences.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/919836

Miraculous Moves Underground by LadyDi1980

Okay, so I’m sure you’ve seen the post about this fic floating around. It’s a dancing au, which features the clashing worlds of ballet and hip-hop. Non-magical, but I didn’t miss it. Wonderful au, really, and I def recommend.

104,000 words- clean fic. No violence (except for a few slaps initiated and recieved by none other than Gabriel Agreste) and no smut. There are some songs and images that don’t work attached to the fox. So be prepared for some disappointment in that department. Also, the music is mostly BTS.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7203476/chapters/16346582

Blanks by DipStick45

For those of you who stayed around until the end, you’re amazing. This is my favorite fox by far, and it’s absolutely incredible. It’s a zombie apocalypse au, but it’s much more sophisticated than the usual zombies one. The actual word zombie isn’t used once in the fic. Oh and by the way, this fic made me cry. I have never cried from any book, tv show, or other fic in my life, but I cried in this one. Why? You’ll just have to find out!! Oh and also, this is only 2 chapters. Apparently they were doing a one-chapter challenge, but ao3 has a word limit for chapters. READ. I WILL PERSONALLY FORCE YOU.

103,000 words- okay so despite what I said- here are the warnings: major character death. I won’t say more for now. Violence. As expected, only times 10. Someone gets beheaded, another gets themselves split in half. The actual zombie bite’s effects are also quite graphic. There IS one smut scene, but it’s not detailed. And Adrien was high anyways. Oh yeah, alcohol use, and… I mean… they do describe the human body in some detail, but it’s not that bad. Chloe is insane, by the way, so there’s that. I think that’s it. If you’re okay with that, then read. I beg of you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43755576/chapters/110030079

And that’s it! I hope you enjoyed this very long list of fics! Lemme know what you think of them!

#miraculous ladybug #ml ladybug #adrien agreste #miraculous #miraculous marinette #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #miraculous au #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3fic #fanfic suggestions #you wont regret it #read the warnings #i beg of you #I don’t want anything to happen to you guys because you ignored my warnings

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burntblueberrywaffles · 5 months

Text

My 2023 recap (but it's through all my favorites posts I've made this year)

I started this in december and intented the post it a bit earlier but life got crazy busy;; anyway finally posting part 1! there will be a part 2 because this got a bit more out of hand than expected, and tumblr has a 30 images cap per post RIP

post are under the cut, they've all been dated and linked ❤️

Jan 22nd

Me: please send me asks! I want to get them! I’ll answer them for sure!

Also me when I actually receive an ask:

Jan 28th

Fev 1st

Fev 7th

Me every time I hear a song that slightly reminds me of my ship:

Fev 7th

I love when my mutuals talk about themselves in the tags, like oh, new bit of lore just dropped

Fév 19th

Me when I see Game Changer clips but I don’t have dropout:

Mar 27th

Apr 2nd

Apr 5th

Apr 7th

My problem is that whenever I enter a new fandom, I binge read a ton of incomplete fanfics, subscribe to all of them, and then when I get a chapter update for one of them I just

Apr 9th

Me listening to drinking song for the socially anxious:

Apr 10th

Apr 13th

may 12th

Netflix stop cancelling my favorite shows after 1 season challenge

June 6th

June 7th

Me seeing porn bots following my account again:

June 7th

Watching spiderverse 2 like

June 20th

I'm not gonna add a video to this post cause it's too much of a hassle, but this is the Hyde stick figure edit, that you can find here :3

June 21st

Me before: I don’t know if I should tell people that I’m autistic, what if they judge me

Me when I meet new people now:

June 22nd

The delicate balance between protecting your peace and being a nosy bitch

June 24th

June 26th

How am I supposed to touch grass in these conditions

July 2nd

Whoopsie! Your anxiety manifested itself as distrust and now everyone hates you

July 2nd

Someone: Um actually if you look at the books/comics/other tv shows it’s canon that-

Me:

July 2nd

guess what i did today

July 5th

July 8th

July 10th

July 14th

What they don’t tell you about the autism diagnosis is that soon enough you’ll constantly be looking at characters of tv shows and movies like

July 17th

Some very specific memes about my comic con weekend

July 19th

Me every day of my life

July 27th

when you see one of your mutuals reblog something from another one of your mutuals, when they had no previously known relation

#burntblueberrywaffles #end of the year recap #2023 recap #going through all my old posts to make this was pretty fun hehe #I truly am so smart witty and funny 😌

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mittensmorgul · 2 years

Note

What do you prefer as far as reading fics? For an already completed fic would you rather the author: post the whole fic at one time so you can binge all the chapters or read it at your own pace, or space out posting the chapters so you have something to look forward to a couple days a week?

Hi hi! This is one of those things that I think everyone has different thoughts and feelings on, for completely valid reasons. And honestly, whatever an author prefers is the best way for the author to post, you know?

It’s just a function of the AO3 sort feature that fics that are updated get bumped to the top of the search results list every time an author adds a chapter, and for a lot of authors this is a definite benefit. It helps grow their audience from people searching for what the author invested a lot of time in writing, you know? So I totally get why authors would choose to post serially, even if they’ve completely written the work already.

I am not that patient as a writer. I don’t post works in progress because it just doesn’t work with my writing process. I always go back and edit earlier parts of the story as I work out the later parts, so posting as I write is just not possible for me anyway. And once I finish writing, I have no patience for stringing out posting (I tried once, it was a disaster, I got anxious, and just posted the rest of the thing within days lol).

So I get why authors would make either of these choices personally for themselves. But as a reader? I always prefer to read completed stories. Because again, that’s just how my brain works. I will not remember details from a story if I have to keep putting it down for a week or two at a time (or longer). Especially if I’m also reading other things in between, and also trying to write my own things. My brain just can’t hold that many storylines at one time lol.

(for reference, the only reasons I’m surviving Dracula Daily are because a) it’s daily, or near enough, and b) i’ve read dracula probably 30 times already so my brain isn’t likely to forget details in between updates)

So I see a lot of fics I really want to read, that look intriguing as authors post updates week after week, but I’ll almost always wait until the story is complete before starting reading. Or I’d have no hope of being able to follow the story.

So really, it’s entirely up to the author! If they want to take advantage of the AO3 sort system, and they’re patient enough to wait for their posting schedule before updating, then more power to them! But I’ll wait until I can binge the whole thing, thanks. But again, that’s just me! I know a lot of readers who love the constant updates, even if it’s just a wait of a few days for an author stringing out posting a completed fic, and those folks would likely appreciate serial posting! And the rest of us (when we’re eager to read the story based on the concept/plot we’ve seen in promos) are happy to wait. :)

(the only thing I'd personally beg authors to do is to make a post alerting folks like me that the work is complete. Just make a new post, not the one with 30 reblogs with each chapter linked in a thread below it, or not just the final chapter's post, but a tidy one with a summary, maybe a teaser, and a link that leads to chapter one, because I love promoting completed fics! and I almost never reblog wip posts because again, I lack all patience and want to read the whole thing, and it's one way i resist hobbling myself when it comes to reading fic... i make it easier for myself however i can. and i personally find I abandon wip's that I start, because I'll pick up on the next chapter, have no idea what's going on, and have to read back again, and I just don't have time to reread all the chapters again every time a fic updates, so i just stop reading... which makes me sad. so personally I'll choose to wait. But I've discovered a lot of the time I'll see the same update post again and not register that it's announcing the story is now complete, because I've seen it so many times over weeks/months and mentally filed it as "wip mittens danger zone do not read" and I just... don't see the completion notice! but again, this is just me, and I have no idea how other readers feel about any of this, and really it's up to the author entirely how they prefer to post and promote their own works... readers will still find our stories regardless <3)

#adventures in fanfic

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scoonsalicious · 24 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 634

Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.

A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!

This is it! The last chapter! OMG!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

10 Months Later

“I refuse to accept this.”

“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”

“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”

You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said.

“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.

“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”

“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”

“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”

“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.

“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”

“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”

You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.

“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”

“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”

“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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whumptober · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 - Updated

Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.

We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"

No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

Alternate Prompt List

Alt 1. Punctured

Alt 2. Falling

Alt 3. Comfort

Alt 4. Stitches

Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees

Alt 6. Altered States

Alt 7. Found Family

Alt 8. Adverse Reactions

Alt 9. Memory Loss

Alt 10. Nightmares

Alt 11. Presumed Dead

Alt. 12. Water

Alt. 13 Accidents

Alt. 14 Shot

Alt. 15 Carry/Support

Event Info

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruised, #stabbed, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020 blog. They must be tagged in the order above.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.

Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?

Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.

Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day's prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What's whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

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jerzwriter · 3 years

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Delaying the Inevitable Chapter 11: Shattered

Book: Open Heart 3 (Post Series)

Series: Delaying the Inevitable

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Rating: Chapter: Teen

Summary: Extended Series WIP – Love Triangle. In this chapter: Ethan & Casey make a terrible discovery; Ethan lashes out; Tobias is there to help Casey, and Ethan as well.

Category: Extended Series (WIP)

Warnings: Addiction, anger, abandonment, language

A/N: As regular readers of this series know, I have been only partially joking that I would need to write massive A/N’s for this and upcoming chapters. I’m going to make them briefer than I had originally planned. I promised angst, the angst is here. This is a love triangle, and a love triangle will not always be happy. When I began to write this story, I decided to make it an extended series because it was important to me to show each character’s humanity. We will see their significant baggage and true flaws and how they lead to bad decisions and hurting people they love. Like you and me, they are good people who will make bad choices and they will live with regret. But, as in life, people can grow, improve and there is always hope for redemption. So, remember, I love these characters as much as you, but we’re going to look at them through a real lens. We are not even halfway through the story yet, so there is lots to come. After all that, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS

If you wish to be added or removed from tags, please let me know. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. 😊

The ride to Providence was excruciating. Casey begged Ethan to let her drive to no avail. She only relented when she realized how desperately he needed to feel in control of something as his world spiraled around him. She already had a plan of action in place if she thought it was unsafe. But as the doctor in him took over as he settled into a zone, methodical and singularly focused, tuning out all other noise. This was one of his greatest attributes and one of his most destructive flaws. Silence permeated the air for almost the entirety of the trip. Casey understood that Ethan needed focus, and she was going to afford him whatever was necessary to get through. Every so often, he would reach for her hand and give it a tight squeeze before returning it to the steering wheel, and, twice, at red lights, he pulled her over to kiss the top of her head. Right now, all he needed was to know that she was there. She understood this and vowed to be whatever he needed.

Casey kept in contact with Alan during the drive down. Her concern was growing with each message he sent her:

Her friend told me she has not been in NA for several weeks.

She has frequently called out of work; today is the first time she just did not show.

Neighbors said she stopped coming outside to talk completely.

Each time Casey picked up her phone, Ethan anxiously asked for an update. There was no way she would be anything but fully transparent with him, but she knew these messages were not helpful.

“Fuck!” Ethan yelled, shattering the silence.

“What?”

“I have to stop for gas. I thought we could make it, but….”

Casey looked at her app, “It’s OK. Get off on the next exit. There’s a station right off the ramp. It shouldn’t add more than 5 minutes to our trip?”

“Want me to get out take care of it?” She offered as they pulled up.

“No, I’ll take care of it. Thank you.” He said before giving her a quick hug.

She was relieved he had turned her down because it allowed her the opportunity to call Alan in private.

“Alan, it’s Casey. I wanted to let you know that we should be there in 20 minutes, but listen, don’t text me unless it’s urgent. Every time you do Ethan insists on knowing what happened, but it only makes him more anxious and, I need to keep him as calm as possible to deal with everything. If it’s urgent, of course....”

Alan’s voice was quavering, “I’m sorry, Casey, I didn’t mean to make anything worse.”

“Alan, no! Please. I hope that didn’t come off as crass. You have nothing to apologize for. I am just trying to talk quickly; he will be back in the care any second.”

“How is he, Casey?”

“Right now, he is in that place where he shuts everything else out to focus on the task at hand; that’s the only reason I let him drive. But… everything has been taking a toll on him for weeks, Alan, I am worried about him.”

“Casey, I don’t know how he would take it, I….” Alan’s voice began to break.

“Alan, listen to me, we have to stay in the present. Let’s deal with what we have to, and we will cope with more only if we need to. Where should we go when we are in town?”

“Go to Louise’s apartment, I’ll meet you there.”

Casey hung up just as Ethan entered the car.

“Who was that?”

“It was your Dad. I just called to let him know when to expect us. He said we should go directly to Louise’s apartment when we get there.”

Ethan leaned his head back into the headrest and closed his eyes.

“The police haven't been able to access the apartment, correct?”

“No. She has been missing less than 24-hours and, since her car is not there, they have no reason to suspect she isn’t home.”

“We have no idea what we are walking into, do we?”

Casey took Ethan’s hand across the console, “No, baby, we don’t. But I promise you, whatever it is we’re, we are walking into it together, OK? I’ve got you.”

Cocking his head toward the side, he looked at her with glassy eyes. She noted his face looked so much older and it hurt her to see him in so much pain.

“Thank you, Casey.”

She smiled, trying to control her own emotions.

“There is no need. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“No, if I drive, I don’t have to think. It’s better this way.”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “Let’s go, baby. I love you.”

While Ethan stayed laser-focused on the road, Casey tried to take her own advice as her mind began to wander. He was right; what the hell were they going to walk in on? Casey was not religious, and she did not know if she believed in an all-encompassing God, but she found herself praying on that trip. Please let her be OK. Please let her be out somewhere and returning home. Please, please don’t let her be gone, or … worse. And, if she is, please give Ethan what he needs to get through this.

Casey knew that Ethan had changed drastically in the past year. He was at peace, more open, and willing to accept and give love. She found herself terrified that another loss could set him back, and he did not deserve that.

Stay in the present, Casey, stay in the present. She reminded herself. But as they neared their exit on the highway, her heart began to sink. She just couldn’t imagine a happy ending rising from this situation.

____________________

Louise lived in a small, garden-level apartment in an older but well-kept two-family home. A chain-link fence surrounded a small patch of weathered grass with a concrete walkway that led to her door. Ethan had struggled when she moved in here. It was certainly a comfortable apartment and a safe neighborhood. Still, he knew he had the means to help her move into a better place. Together, they concluded that this was best based on many factors. At the time, Casey recalled being happy in the area herself. It reminded her of where she grew up. Some of the homes on the block may have needed some refurbishing, but they were very well maintained. Autumn decorations of chrysanthemums and pumpkins adorned front yards. Children were laughing as they played in the street, and everything felt…beautiful. Casey knew where to find beauty and she could often see it where others did not. A neighborhood like this usually held much more of it than any of the multi-million-dollar penthouses she stepped into back in Boston. But as they turned the corner and onto Louise’s street today, the joy and beauty that was once quickly found were replaced by a harsh, stark landscape. Today’s cloud cover turned everything grey. The contrast was vivid, although, she noted, it was absolutely attributable to the circumstances. When Casey saw Alan and two neighbors leaning against the fence, she felt her heart fall into her stomach, and she began to brace for something awful. She sensed this was a moment where everything would change, and things would be defined by before and after it happened. She only had one prayer remaining, for the others seemed too hopeless. Please let me be able to help Ethan through this.

Ethan jerked his car into park and jumped out to greet his father.

“Son,” Alan said, running up to embrace him. Ethan rebuffed at first but then gave in.

“There will be time for that later. We need to get in there.”

Ethan fumbled with his keys, attempting to find the right one for Louise’s front door. For the first time since they left Boston Casey saw the man she loved unable to function. His hands were shaking, and she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. She walked over and steadied his hands.

“Let me help, baby. What does the key look like?”

“It’s gold,” he said in a monotone voice, “like the key for the office, but it has a square head, not round.”

Casey found a matching key on his ring, “Is this it, Hun?”

“Yes,” he said abruptly grabbing it from her and as he raced up the concrete pathway to her apartment door.

Casey was right on his heels with Alan behind her.

“Baby, do you want me to go in first,” she asked.

“No.”

Once again, his hands were trembling as he tried to open the door. Casey lovingly put her hands atop his to insert and turn the key together then Ethan turned the knob and burst in through the front door.

The living room was dark with the shades pulled. There were no lights on in the apartment.

“Mom! Mom!!!” Ethan yelled as he walked in.

Casey pulled the shades to let light in. The living room looked intact. Still, she immediately noticed a single photo missing from her bookshelf; the photo Alan had given Ethan the first time she had visited Alan's home. It was a photo of Ethan as a boy seated on a swing alongside Louise. When she realized it was missing, Casey felt as if the air was sucked from her lungs. She instantaneously knew what this meant. She ran to Ethan.

Casey lovingly placed her hand on his back as they reached the door to Louise’s bedroom, they were on a precipice, and when Ethan’s hand turned the knob and pushed the door open, the rocks gave way.

Unlike the rest of her apartment, the bedroom was in disarray. The closet and every drawer were left open, and for a moment, it felt as if time stood still. The eerie silence was broken when Ethan let out a soft gasp. He stumbled backward, falling into Casey, who gently supported him. Alan was immediately at his side. Casey walked to check inside the open spaces. Her heart was racing as she knew what she would find. As she walked over, there was still the smallest amount of hope and she knew she was about to diminish that flame. She closed her eyes tightly for a brief moment before turning around. As a physician, she had become accustomed to delivering terrible news that no one wanted to hear; but this was the person she loved most in this world, and she was about to deliver a ferocious blow to him. After opening his heart, he was being abandoned once again.

“They’re empty. Her things are gone.”

Her things are gone, is if that would soften the reality, she is gone, your mother is gone, you gave her a second chance, and she left you anyway.

Ethan was frozen in place, his mouth slightly ajar. As much as Ethan had appeared older earlier today, he now looked like a little boy. His was not the face of a cynical, nearly middle-aged man who was hardened to the world. It was now that of a heartbroken little boy who was being forced to relive one of the most tragic and defining moments of his life.

Alan was also visibly affected, he draped his arm over his son’s shoulder as he looked to the ground in an attempt to contain his own emotions. His only desire was to be there for his son. Casey was a doctor. When you boil it down, she fixed people for a living. All she wanted was the knowledge of how to fix the man she loved, yet she was helpless.

The moment lingered for an eternity.

Finally, Ethan spoke with a fragile voice, “She couldn’t have… she wouldn’t just leave, how do we know something didn’t happen to her, maybe there was a robbery….”

“Baby, we will call the police. They can investigate now that we have more information, but many valuable items have been left behind. It seems only her essentials were taken. It’s not likely that….”

“You don’t know that!” he barked at Casey, “You don’t know that. You know better than to make such a broad assumption!”

“I’m, I’m sorry, Ethan… I…”

“Ethan,” Alan said softly but firmly, “Why don’t you sit down? Casey and I can look around. Maybe there is a note or something….”

“I will look too,” he said curtly, removing himself from his father’s touch. He looked at her nightstand, around her bed, in her dresser, pushing anything he could to the side in search of... something, anything, that would give an idea of what she had done or where she may be. Casey hovered nearby, careful not to get too close, just letting him know she was there.

A knock sounded from the front door. Alan moved the curtains and saw the police car outside. “I’ll go let them in,” he said quietly. Eventually, Ethan walked inside and sat on the sofa with Casey perched next to him on its arm. This time he allowed her to gently rub his back as he sat hunched forward, rubbing his brow.

Alan accompanied the police through the apartment, looking for any evidence of foul play, but it was increasingly apparent that there was none to be found.

“So, it appears as if the only items missing are her clothing and personal care items, correct?” the officer asked.

“Yes, it seems so,” Alan answered somberly.

“Are any personal items, memorabilia, anything of that nature missing that you can tell?”

Casey looked to the officer with an unsettled look, “There is a photo missing from the mantle. I noticed it before.” She nodded toward the spot.

Alan looked over and choked back a sob, a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Actually, two photos are missing. Ethan’s sixth-grade school photo is also gone.”

“Sixth grade. That is when she walked out of my life the first time,” Ethan said with a mix of anger and sorrow in his tone.

Casey slipped off the arm of the couch and squeezed in next to him, wrapping him tightly in her embrace. He remained motionless.

“We’re going to write up a report. Given her history with addiction, we have notified local authorities of her car and license plate, but, I have to be honest, it appears as though she left on her own accord.”

Ethan and Alan were silent, Casey caught the officer's gaze and said, “I understand.”

“Are there any family members or friends that she may have contacted?”

Alan popped out of his trance, “Uh, uhm, no. She was only in contact with a few friends and us in town who have already been spoken to.”

“OK, well, we will get this written up and be in touch if we hear anything further. Please let us know if you hear anymore.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Alan said, “I will walk you out.”

“Ethan, I am so sorry,” Casey whispered into his ear once the others had left.

He didn’t respond at first, eventually taking her hand in his and clasping it on his lap. Alan returned and sat across from them.

“Casey, could you get me some water?” Ethan asked.

“Of course,” she said, “Alan, would you like some too?”

“Please.”

Casey stood before the grey cupboards in the kitchen. She had experienced death in her family before and, this felt the same, but in many ways, it felt worse. Death steals people from us, but they do not have a choice; here, regardless of the factors behind her decision, Louise elected to leave. She was out there right now, alive, and she chose to leave. Casey’s heart ached to imagine how Ethan must have felt.

Breaking herself from her thoughts, she opened the cabinets looking for glasses. She found a bright yellow envelope with her name written across in blue ink on her third attempt. Her breath hitched when she took it in her hand. Standing alone in the kitchen, she silently opened it and removed the white paper inside and read:

Dear Casey,

I hope you can promise me that you will take care of my son. I can be at peace with my decision because I know he has you.

I wish I could have been a better mother, a better person, but I could not. In the long run, this is the best choice for everyone. It was selfish of me to ever return.

I’m so sorry.

Louise

Casey dropped the letter to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to let out a scream but held it in to avoid upsetting Ethan and Alan. She was trembling with anger.

Her Son! She had no right to call him that!

Peace with her decision. How dare she!

I can’t. No, she chose not to.

It was selfish of me to return. Fuck yes, it was!

How dare she!!! How dare she abandon her son again! How dare she use me to ease her conscience!

Her body felt heavy as she dragged herself to the kitchen sink and splashed water on her face before pocketing the envelope. She found two coffee mugs, filled them with water, and returned to the living room. She handed each man a mug and waited for them to drink before sharing her discovery with them.

She sat on the ottoman in front of Ethan, her face contorted and her eyes heavy. Taking her in, he spoke before she could bring herself to utter one word.

“What is it, Casey?”

“I found this.”

She placed the envelope in Ethan’s hands as Alan moved to sit next to his son. Ethan’s stony facade crumbled. He let out one heaving sob before he quickly recovered. Inhaling deeply, he stood up from the couch, crumbling the note in his fingers and hurling it across the room. He stood silently before the window, staring blankly outside.

Casey moved to be near him, but he turned around and said, “No! I don’t want to be touched, I don’t want anyone fussing over me, all I want to do is get out of this fucking apartment. I need to to breathe.”

He turned and headed out the door.

“Casey, go to him,” Alan said, “I will be right out. I’m going to take one last look around and lock up.”

Ethan was leaning on the fence and grasping his hair in his hands as Casey to him.

“Baby, how can I help you?”

He lifted his red eyes and he pulled her in for one tight but brief hug.

“I want to get the fuck out of here, and I never want to see this place again.”

“OK, I can get you out of here.”

Alan arrived, “Why don’t we go to my house. Ethan, please let Casey drive you….”

“I don’t need Casey to drive me.”

“Ethan, I think it would be best if ..."

“I said, I do not need her to drive me. What I would like right now is some time alone.”

“Son, I don’t think that is a good….”

“Goddamn it, Dad! I’m not a child. I know what I need! I’ll go to the house shortly, but not now, please take Casey and go. I’ll see you both later.”

“Ethan, just promise me you’ll be careful….” Casey said.

“I’m not going to do anything stupid, Casey,” he snapped.

Casey tapped Alan's elbow, “Come on, Alan, let’s go.”

“Yes, thank you for hearing me, Casey.”

______________________

Casey took Alan's hand after they were seated in his car.

“Alan, how are you? I know this cannot be easy on you either.”

He shrugged. “You know, Casey, I always knew it was a possibility. I hoped it would never come to be, but... I guess now we just cope.”

“I’m here for you too, you know.”

He smiled at her with pure affection, “I know that dear. You are truly precious and I hope you know that. I fear it is going to be a rough road ahead with Ethan. I know his heart is breaking and…I expect he will push us away. I am going to warn you. It won’t be an easy walk.”

“I’m two steps ahead of you, Alan, but don’t worry. I don’t frighten easily.”

“I hope he never forgets how lucky he is to have you.”

Casey leaned over the console and they hugged for a long time as both of them let out pent-up tears.

“And I am so lucky to have both of you. I’m not going anywhere, Alan.”

Pulling back, Alan said, “I’d like to make a quick stop at the grocery store if that’s OK. I can get in a few things to make dinner for us at the apartment. You’ll need some sustenance before you drive back to Boston.”

“No problem at all, I’ll help.” She forced a smile as they pulled away.

_____________________

After driving around in silence, Ethan gathered himself as much as he could before heading back to his childhood home.

He arrived before Casey and Alan and allowed himself in. He surveyed the living room and walked toward Alan's recliner. All these years later, it was a different chair, but it sat in the exact spot that his old one did. The same spot where Ethan sat as a child when his father told him that his mother was missing. The exact spot his father sat in when he told his son that she was unlikely to return home. Ethan felt as if the chair was absorbing him into a grotesque embrace; it forced all of his painful memories from years ago back into the forefront of his mind.

She left me twice. She left a note for Casey… but none for me. Not even a goodbye. She can leave because Casey will care for me? When the hell did Louise care for me? She couldn’t even bring herself to love me. She couldn’t even give me the dignity and respect of a goodbye. Was her return all a lie? How could she?

The trauma of almost three decades was trying to make its way back inside: the pain, the abandonment, the fear, the worthlessness, all of the things he had been trying to heal were began crawling on his skin, looking for a crack to seep inside.

How could she? He hated her. He hated himself. Was he that hard love? Was he that unworthy? He was angry at himself. Never mind how could she, HOW COULD HE? He knew better! He knew who she was! He spent his adolescence and adult years doing all that he needed to do to protect him from the very pain he was experiencing now. Was it all for naught? He felt like an exposed nerve, everything hurt and it was unbearable. The goddamn recliner continued to suck him in when all he wanted to do was get up and run. Run as far away as his legs to take him.

He didn’t even hear the door open when Alan and Casey entered. He observed their somber faces and demeanor, but he did not believe that they were stricken enough. They stopped to buy groceries, they were conversing when they entered, he thought he may have heard Alan chuckle. They were also in pain and consumed with worry, but they were more at peace. He resented them. He was furious at them. With one look in his direction, they both already sensed the wrath he was about to unleash.

“Ethan, honey,” Casey said tentatively, “your Dad got some things to make a quick soup. Why don’t you and I go upstairs to….”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“OK, well, can I sit with you.”

“I would rather you didn’t.”

“Son, I know you’re hurt but, Casey is just trying to….”

“No, you can’t, you can’t imagine my hurt right now, and no, you can’t make it better. Neither of you can.”

“Baby, please let us be here for you.”

“That’s great, Casey, that’s just great. You’re both be here for me. See that chair, Dad? That’s the spot I sat in 26-years ago when you told me that Louise left us. For 26-years after that, all I did was want to push her away. But you kept trying to keep her memory alive like she was some goddamned guardian angel. Why? Why were you respecting the memory of a woman who couldn’t care less about you or her own son more than you were respecting what I needed? For 26-years I told you I wanted to forget her, but you insisted I keep that door open. The best thing I ever did was bolt it shut. But you knew better, right?”

“Ethan,” Casey said, taking a tentative step toward him.

“Do not come near me, Casey. He may have pushed me for 26-years, but I was always strong enough to resist. When did I get weak? When did I remove the damn screws from the door? When I met you. How many times did I tell you I didn't want to give her a chance? How many times? But then I had the two people who loved me pushing me. Why was I so fucking blind?”

“Ethan, I know you’re hurt, but you can’t just..” Alan piped in.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT I CAN AND CANNOT DO!!!! I would not be standing here, right now, reliving this hell without your interference! Don't you see that?”

Ethan shook his head, “And I know this is fresh, and I know I need time. I know all that shit but, right now, at this moment, I know I cannot be around either of you. I need space and I have to demand that you respect it.”

“Ethan!” Alan yelled, “if it helps, you take your anger out on me but don’t turn your back on Casey, she didn’t force you to do anything, and she loves you…she’s only been trying to help you. She’s your….”

“I know she is, Dad. I don’t need a reminder. I need to be alone.”

He grabbed his coat, “Casey, I’ll make arrangements for you to get back to Boston tonight.”

She scrunched her face, “What? You’re leaving me here?”

“You’re a brilliant woman, Casey. I’m sure you can deduce that needing time away from you cannot include being stuck in a car with you for over an hour. I’ll arrange to have a car service pick you up.”

“Stop it, Ethan!” Alan interjected, “I know you’re hurt, but this is unacceptable!”

“No. It’s fine, Alan.” She looked at Ethan, her eyes cold, “Fine, you don’t want to go back to Boston with me, then don’t. But I will find my way back without your help. But, no matter how angry you are at me, I need to know where you are going, Ethan, because I still love you and your safety means too much to me.”

“I don’t know where I am going and I don’t know what I am doing. I will contact you later when I do. I will call you, DO NOT contact me. I hope that’s clear.” He exited, slamming the door behind him.

Casey and Alan stood dumbfounded, staring at the door. Hot tears were welling in Casey’s eyes, a mix of hurt, anger, and frustration attempting to make their way out.

Alan looked at her sympathetically, “Casey, I am so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did you,” Casey said, wiping her tears on her sleeve. “Alan, I don’t know that he’s going to be OK tonight, I'm worried."

“Casey, why don’t you stay the night? It’s been a terribly long day.”

“I wish I could, Alan, but I can’t. I don't know if Ethan will be at work tomorrow, and things are too busy for both of us to be out. Also, no matter what he says, I want to be there for him if he comes back to the apartment tonight. I need to be there for him. But are you OK to be alone?”

“Sure, sure. I’m OK, and if I need to, I will call my friend Charlie, he can come to stay a bit if I think it is necessary. But, why don’t you let me drive you home?”

“I can take the train. I’d appreciate a ride to the station, but I am not going to make you drive to and from Boston after the day we have had.”

“Casey, I need to say something.”

“Of course."

"I said before, it’s going to be a rough road. I know that Ethan is going through hell and lashing out right now and, hopefully, that will change. But, even if he is lashing out for valid reasons, that doesn’t mean he gets to do whatever he wants to do. We all have damage and baggage to a degree. I’m sure you do too and, I hate to admit it, but I am well aware that some of it is even at my son's hands. So, what I’m saying is you have a wonderful heart, and your patience and understanding are admirable, but, Casey, don’t let yourself be mistreated in the process. Promise me that.”

Her flood gates opened. Alan took her in her arms as she wept for several minutes before she began to compose herself.

“Thank you, thank you, Alan, and I am assuming you will do the same, right?”

“I will. Now, are you sure I can't take you home?”

“No, but I’d like to get to the train. If we get there soon, I can be back in Boston by 9:00.”

“OK, I’ll take you, but you have to let me know as soon as you’re home. I am worried about you too.”

“Of course,” she said, giving Alan one final embrace.

____________________

Casey walked into the Providence Station, exhausted and numb. For the first time, she slightly regretted her decision to take the train home. She was afraid she would fall asleep and be riding the rails all night. In an attempt to prevent that, she bought an enormous coffee with an espresso shot. Then, for the first time that day, she just sat and was just still. She took a deep breath and looked at her phone to see if Ethan had called. Nothing.

She shook her head gently; she did not have a playbook for dealing with this. She didn’t know how to be there for him, she was worried out of her mind and she was hurt.

She looked through her other messages and saw she had several from Tobias. Ah, fuck! I never called to let them know how things went. She began texting…

Her phone rang almost instantaneously.

“Hey, T,” without realization, her voice broke and she began softly crying. She attempted to muffle the sound, but Tobias heard it clearly.

“Case, Sweetheart, calm down. Talk to me. Are you alone? Are you safe?”

Sniffling back tears she replied, “I am. I’m alone, but I’m fine. I’m on the train now.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Nutshell version, we got to Providence and went to her apartment and all of her clothes and personal belongings were gone.”

“Holy shit! Is there any chance that there was something not above board here?”

“Well, considering I found her farewell note, to me, not her son, not her son’s father, but to me telling me to look out for him, I think it’s fair to say she went on her own volition.”

“Jesus! How is Ethan?”

“He wasn't well before. I don't know how he is now because he refuses to be near me." She began to cry again, “I want to call, but he is furious at me and made it abundantly clear I am not to call him, I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Case, I am freaking lost here. Explain this to me, first, why the fuck are you on a train back to Boston alone.”

She let out a deep sigh, “Because he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. He needs to blame someone… he said Alan & I forced him to accept Louise back into his life, and he wouldn’t be here now if not for us.”

“Holy Fuck, Casey! You know that’s all bullshit, right? You know it’s not your fault.”

“I do know that T. I also know he’s processing grief and has to blame someone. But I’m losing my damn mind worrying…and,” she began crying again, “T, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you.”

“Casey! You have nothing to be sorry for. Take a breath, take something to drink, don’t talk, just calm down. I’ll wait right here…I’m not going anywhere. God, why didn’t you call me Case? I would have gotten you.”

“It’s OK, T. I am a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“That’s lovely, Casey. Anyone with functioning brain cells knows you can take care of yourself, but you’ve had a traumatic day too, and the last place you should be is on a train alone right now.”

“T, I don’t even know my middle name right now. I’m just going on muscle memory and, it’s a train from Providence to Boston. I’ll live.”

“I'm sorry, Casey, I'm sorry. The last thing you need right now is me reprimanding you, I'm just worried about you. What do you need from me? How can I help?”

“Could you call Ethan? I just want to know that he is OK.”

“Of course. Now, when is your train in town and what station.”

“8:45, South Station.”

“I will pick you up there.”

“T, you don’t….”

“I will pick you up there. It’s not up for discussion. Let me call Ethan and I will call you right back, OK?”

“OK, thanks, T.”

“No thanks needed. Hang in there, Sweetheart. I’ll call you right back.”

____________________

Tobias dialed Ethan immediately; the first two calls went directly into voicemail. Apparently, he does not remember I can be a persistent asshole. He hit redial again. On the third attempt, Ethan finally answered.

“Hello,” he said groggily.

“Buddy, it’s me. I spoke with Casey. She is frantic with worry about you, and so am I. Where are you? Can I come get you?”

“Thank you, Tobias, but I need to be alone.”

“Ethan, please, don’t shut us out. You’re not alone.”

“I need to be alone…. Just do me a favor.”

“Name it.”

“Check on Casey. I want to know she is safe, but I cannot talk to her right now."

“Ethan, I’m happy to check on her, but you should be calling her yourself. She loves you and she’s worried sick.”

“Tobias, right now, I don’t need a lecture, and I don’t need to be told what I need to do. I will talk to Casey when I’m ready to, and that’s not now.”

“Just tell me where you are at least. Are you safe?”

“I’m sitting at a bar in Providence.”

“Great, so you are going to get shitfaced and get behind a wheel. Can you do one thing for me? Can you tell me what bar? Because, once I make sure Casey is home safely, I’m coming down to get you.”

“I have no intention of driving drunk. If I can’t drive, I’ll get a hotel or park my car and get a cab home. I’m not an idiot.”

“Bro, my heart aches for you, and I can’t imagine how much you are hurting. But as your friend, I have to tell you, that doesn’t mean you’re not acting like an idiot, because you are. Casey’s train gets into Boston at 8:45. I’ll make sure she gets home safely. Then, your job is to get home to her. Don’t be an asshole! Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have someone who loves you as much as she does? You took a terrible blow today, and it’s not your fault, but it’s not her's either. Don’t turn your back on her, do not mistreat her!”

There was a long silence.

“Ethan…”

“I will reach out to Casey when. I. Am. Ready. If you want to put her mind at ease… I would like to put her mind at ease. Can you tell her we spoke and I’m OK and I will talk to her… soon.”

“I will. Are you sure I can’t come to get you?”

“No. Honestly, it will mean more to me if you just make sure she is taken care of. Can you let me know when you’re with her?”

“Yeah, I mean, fine... but this is ridiculous. Please keep in touch with me, or I will come find your ass.”

“I will, and thanks, Tobias.”

____________________

“Casey? It’s me. I talked to him”

“Is he OK? How is he?” she asked anxiously.

He sighed. “He’s at a bar in Providence. I offered to go get him, but, as you can imagine, he said no. I made him promise that he won’t drive. He promised to get a hotel room for the night or a taxi home if he is not up to driving. He’s probably calmer than when he talked with you last, but he’s still not good. He said he’ll keep in touch, so keep you updated.”

“I’m sorry you’re in the middle….”

“I’m not. He did want me to make sure you were OK. I told him I was already on it. But I wanted you to know that.”

“Thanks, Tobias.”

“Look, why don’t you rest. I’m going to call you at 8:30 just to make sure you’re awake and don’t miss your stop, then I’ll get you, OK.”

“OK. T, thank you. I'm so glad I have you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

____________________

As promised, Tobias called her at 8:30 sharp and it was fortunate that he did because she was passed out. They arranged a spot to meet and, when he saw her approach, his heart just broke. She looked so exhausted, so sad all he wanted to do is take her in his arms and make it better.

Casey smiled weakly when she saw Tobias. She rushed over to him and fell into his warm embrace. Her arms wrapped firmly around his back, she held on like she never wanted to let go. After such a rough day, his embrace felt like a divine gift.

“It’s OK, Case," he said rubbing her back.

When she squeezed him even tighter, he placed a chaste kiss on top of her head.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

“Thanks, T,” She said weakly, finally letting go.

“I’m sure you haven’t eaten.”

She snorted, “Not since breakfast.”

“Yeah, well, we’re putting an end to that. Are you up to grabbing something, or I can take you back to Ethan’s apartment and whip something up for you there?”

“That’s a good idea. I really just want to get out of the public.”

“I can’t blame you. Come on, let’s get a car home."

Once they were seated in their Uber, he advised her that he had spoken with Ethan again and he was going to find a place to eat and head home later tonight. Casey filled Tobias in on more details of the day. Once they entered Ethan’s apartment, Casey immediately collapsed on the couch.

“Now, that’s what you need to do right there. Can I get you anything?”

“No, it just feels good to be off my feet.”

“Well, I’m making you dinner. I’ll see what we have here. Any preferences?"

“As long as it’s edible, I’m good. T, do you mind if I take a quick shower while you make dinner. I’m pooped, so it will only be 10 minutes.”

“You go right ahead.”

When Casey emerged back into the kitchen, Tobias had a veggie burger and waffle fries waiting for her.

“I did my best,” he said, “But it looks like your boyfriend needs to get some groceries in.”

She smiled, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Tobias let out a small snort and looked at her with a silly grin.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked sweetly.

“The sight of you in your pajamas, you’re quite adorable.”

She looked down and laughed.

She was so tired she didn’t even realize she emerged from the bedroom in her PJs. They were a ridiculous pair, pink cotton bottoms with a matching camisole top with tiny ice cream cones embroidered all over them.

“Well, lucky you,” she said, grinning, “you got one of my exceptionally sexy pairs as well!”

He laughed, “Hey, I consider myself honored to be among the few who get to retain this visual for the remainder of days. Since we're on the topic of ice cream, would you like some? I understand that's normally a thing after rough days. I am happy to get Postmates on it."

“Normally, after a day like this ice cream would be an absolute requirement. But honestly, my current company, food and some rest is all I need.”

“So, what do you want to do? Talk, watch some TV? I'm very amenable.”

“How would you feel about just staying with me for a bit while I lie on the couch?”

“I can do that. Let’s go.”

Casey fluffed up the pillows and Tobias grabbed a throw off of a nearby chair and placed it over her.

“Stay by me?” she asked tenderly.

“Of course,” he said taking a seat at the end of the couch as she placed her feet on his lap.

“I may fall asleep.”

“That may be a good idea," he said with a chuckle, "Do you want me to get you up at any point?”

“If you hear from Ethan.”

He reached over and rubbed her back, “Close your eyes, Sweetheart. You’ve earned this rest. I'm not going anywhere.”

About 45 minutes later, Ethan text Tobias to advise him he was on the road and expected to be home within the hour. Tobias let him know Casey was fed, resting, and had calmed down substantially from when he picked her up. He strongly recommended he and Casey try to keep that vibe going tonight. Ethan agreed and thanked Tobias for being there for her, for both of them.

Tobias gently nudged Casey.

“Hey, Case. Casey. Princess, wake up.”

“Hmmm,” she stirred.

“I just spoke to Ethan. He is on his way home. He should be here in the next hour. Do you want me to stay until he is here?”

She looked at her phone, “Oh, no, Tobias, it’s OK. It’s getting late and you’ve already done so much.”

“I don’t mind. It’s up to you.”

She sat up on the couch, stretching out. “No, I’m good, hun. But I appreciate it.”

“Now, try to stay calm tonight. Everything will be OK. It’s just going to take some time.”

“I know that,” she said with a smile. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

At the door, Casey pulled him into a big hug, “Thank you, T. Thank you so much for everything.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, placing a kiss atop her head.

He was so close, so close that he had to press his lips together to prevent himself from saying the words. I love you. He didn’t even necessarily mean it romantically. He loved her, as a person, as a friend; she meant more to him than she would ever know. But he knew that once it was said, regardless of the sentiment, it would be out there, a genie that escaped its bottle, and it was best kept in its place.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and, on instinct, she reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. She smiled at him as he walked out the door.

Once in the hallway, Tobias took a moment and sighed before making his way to the elevator.

____________________

Casey made herself a cup of tea and settled on the couch to await Ethan's arrival. She marveled at how today felt as if it was two weeks long. Finally, she heard his keys in the door.

Her heart was racing; she did not know what to expect. Her instinct was to stand up, greet him and hold him in her arms. But, for the first time since she was an intern and he was just her attending, she didn’t know if he would welcome it. So she remained seated on the couch as he entered.

“Hey,” was all she could muster.

“Hey.”

Finally, Casey broke the silence, “Ethan, I am going, to be honest with you. For the first time since I’ve known you, I don’t know what to say. I don't know what you need from me. But I don’t want you to think I don’t care. I love you and I’m worried about you. I am here for you if you want me, but I am going to have to rely on you to tell me what you need from me. Whatever it is, I’m willing to give it, but I don’t want to do something that will upset you or make things worse.”

Ethan took a seat across the room on the stool by the breakfast counter.

“Casey, for the first time since I have known you, I honestly don’t know what I want or what I need from you. I’m sorry for my anger earlier today. It was cruel and it was wrong. I am also sorry for making you return to Boston alone. I should have calmed down and come back for you. But I am not sorry for what I said. I am not in a good place and, while I can’t blame you for my choices, I am angry at myself for letting down my defenses. Fair or not, I am resentful of you and my father for your part in that. Maybe, that will change, but it’s not changing tonight.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion, and your feelings are always valid, Ethan. But I am also entitled to mine and, in my opinion, is that is unfair and very hurtful. But I know better than to try and change your mind right now. I want to say a couple things to you, and then I am going to bed.”

“The first thing I want to say is something you told me a while back. In medicine, sometimes, even when we do everything right, things don’t work out. It doesn’t make it our fault. The same applies to life, Ethan. I am making no excuses for Louise, and I know, as a son, you may not be able to accept what I am about to say, but as a doctor, I know you can. Addiction is a serious disease and it causes people to do terrible things. You did everything right, your Dad did everything right, even she may have done everything right, but the fact is, it didn’t work, it doesn’t make it your fault, or mine, or Alan's”

“The last thing I want to say is, I love you, Ethan, so much. You have my heart. I will be here for you if you will allow me to be and, I truly hope you will.”

Ethan stared at the floor. “I appreciate your words and that you took the time to share them with me. But, right now, there is really no more to say.”

“I understand. I’m going to turn in. Will you be joining me soon?”

“I am going to take the guest room for tonight.”

Casey was visibly taken aback, “You.. you’re, oh. No. No, Ethan, you’re not. I don’t live here yet. This is still your home and I still have mine. If you can’t bring yourself to lie next to me, then I am getting dressed and going home. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Casey, I …”

“Now it’s your turn to listen to me. I said I will see you at work tomorrow and you will respect that.”

____________________

Casey felt numb as she sat in the back of yet another Uber on the way to her apartment. The apartment where very few of her things remained, the apartment that she and her friends would vacate in less than a week. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She knew she and Ethan would need to discuss things, but not tonight.

Mercifully, no one was up when she arrived, so she tiptoed into her room and slipped into bed. She pulled out her phone to see if Ethan had contacted her. He hadn’t.

But she promised him she would let him know when she was home safely. She sent a text. “I’m in. See you tomorrow.” She immediately got a response saying, “Thanks for letting me know. Good night Casey.”

She shook her head sadly and checked her other messages. There was one from Tobias:

Three times he typed it. Three times he erased it. But he never hit send. He looked at his watch, 1:20 AM.

Better get some sleep, I’ve got an early day ahead.

_____

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#open heart #ethan x mc #tobias x mc #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick x f!mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #tobias carrick fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices open heart #choices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #fic of the week

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circus4apsycho8 · 3 years

Text

lemon drops. | ii | ib ~ garry x reader

chapter i here.

~ two ~

Rest assured your name will be spelled correctly in my contacts :)

It’s you! I’m glad to hear it.

Idk if you’ll be free but I was going to stop by the coffee shop again today

After my classes. Thinking about talking a walk or something after

I can certainly make another stop there

A walk? Any particular trail in mind?

Not really. I’ll probably just stroll through town

I like the sound of that. What time are you done with your classes?

A smile appears on your lips as you sort the details of your next meetup with Garry out. That turned out pretty well, despite the fact you had been a little nervous to text him. In any case, you hop off of your bed, noting that it’s time for you to get ready for class.

With that thought in mind, you mindlessly proceed throughout your morning routine. After your belongings are in hand, you open the door to your room before stepping out into the hallway. As you gently pull it shut, the sound of small footsteps catches your attention.

“Morning!” your little sister greets, grinning widely as you bend down to give her a hug.

“Hey, Ib. Did you sleep well?”

“I did! Did you?”

“I slept well enough,” you reply, listening to her as the two of you start making your way downstairs.

“That’s good. I had a really weird dream.”

“Oh? Do you remember what it was about?”

“Kind of,” she answers as the two of you reach the bottom of the staircase, both turning towards the kitchen. “I just remember a scary-looking face. It was blue and had weird eyes and a creepy smile.”

“That sound scary,” you mumble, ruffling her hair a little bit. “I’m sorry you had to dream about that.”

“Thanks, but it wasn’t that bad. I just hope I don’t have to dream about it again.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” you say, spying your parents in the living room. “Good morning.”

They look up, both sending you a smile. “Morning girls. Sleep well?”

“I did. Ib said she had a nightmare, though.”

“Oh no! What was it about?” your mom asks, shifting her gaze to Ib.

“A creepy doll or something…it just kept staring at me.”

“Well, it can’t hurt you now,” you dad adds, smiling softly. You nod, about to say something when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. A glance at the screen reveals that it’s a message from Garry:

Look at what I found!!

Attached is a picture of a chunky little groundhog peacefully nibbling on a patch of grass. You giggle quietly, typing a quick response:

Oh, that’s so cute!

“What’re you giggling at?” questions your father, taking a sip from his coffee as he eyes you.

“Oh, a friend just sent me a meme,” you reply, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“I see.”

“Well, we hope you both have a great day. Take snacks if you need them, and be careful on your way there and back!”

“We will, Mom. Love you guys!”

“We love you too. Stay safe!”

…

The day drags on as normal once you drop Ib off at her school. Every class had been filled with you impatiently checking the time every so often. With every passing minute, you grew more and more excited about your upcoming meeting with Garry.

Since you get out earlier than Ib does today, that means you can walk with Garry before you pick her up. You have about two hours before that rolls around, and Garry should be at the coffee shop by the time you arrive.

As soon as your last class ends, you gather your belongings quickly before exiting. You mentally groan when you see that the elevator already has a line of people waiting for its ascent, so you decide to take the stairs again.

Thankfully, the light spring in your step makes the descent a bit easier to bear this time around. You’re on the ground floor before you know it.

Once more, the cool breeze envelopes your skin the moment you step outside. A soft smiles lines your lips as you pull out your phone, opening your messages app:

Hey Garry! I’m on my way now, I should be there in about five minutes or so

I’ll be waiting :)

“Nice,” you mumble as you read the message, stuffing your phone back in your pocket afterwards. The walk this time around seems much shorter than it was yesterday. Not that you’re complaining, because it seems like forever since you’ve wanted to talk to someone like this.

Soon enough, you find yourself in front of the café again. You push the door open, glancing inside to find Garry sitting at the same spot, phone in hand.

“Garry!”

He turns before smiling, standing up as you make your way over to him.

“Hello there!” he greets.

“Hey,” you respond. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, and how about yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You really like how he’s so well-mannered, and actually enunciates his words. It sends a fluttery feeling to your stomach – one that feels almost nostalgic in an odd way.

“I decided it would be better if we ordered together, since we’re walking,” he says as the two of you approach the counter.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Of course.”

With that, the two of you place your orders before waiting at the end of the counter again. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, thankfully. You’re still excited, but part of you is growing a bit nervous now.

You dart from thought to thought for a few minutes before the barista slides your drinks onto the counter, smiling at the two of you. You realize it’s the same one that served you yesterday.

“Hey guys! Good to see you again. Sorry about the mix-up yesterday.”

“That’s quite all right,” Garry replies. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” you add, picking up your drink. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome. Have a great day, guys.”

“You too!”

With that, the two of you swiftly exit the coffee shop, prepared for the walk.

You notice Garry has gone silent, staring ahead distantly. You follow his gaze, only to see that the old art gallery is the subject of his attention.

“Ever been in there?” you question.

“I visited it once, almost a year or so ago,” he comments, frowning.

“Funny. I went around a year ago too,” you say. Could that have been where you saw him?

“Interesting. Perhaps that’s where we saw each other?”

“It could be,” you note. “Wait. My sister went too. Maybe she’d recognize you, since she was with me that day?”

“Oh, maybe!”

“You should come with me when I go to pick her up from school, then. Her memory is way better than mine.”

He laughs a little, closing his eye as he does so. It makes you wonder why he hides his other eye behind his hair. “How long do you have until then?”

“A little under two hours,” you say, stepping a little closer to Garry in order to give passing people more room to walk. The two of you are still outside of the coffee shop, studying the art gallery intently.

“Ah, plenty of time.”

“Yeah. So, which way should we go?”

“I say we begin by heading right. From there, we can just go where the wind takes us.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say as the two of you start walking.

From there, you both fall into another comfortable silence. It seems to be a bit more thoughtful this time around, but as you sip on your drink and view your surroundings, you feel your shoulders relaxing more and more. How long had it been since you just enjoyed time with a friend like this?

For the most part, it remains quiet, but the two of you exchange a bit of get-to-know-the-other questions. You’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. It’s…natural. Like this is how things are supposed to be. Despite this, you know there’s something you’re missing.

It takes you a second to realize that Garry has stopped, leaving you a few feet in front of him. He’s turned towards the forest encircling the town, his eye apparently having been caught.

“Garry? Is something wrong?”

“I… No, but…well, I can’t quite explain it. But I feel like…” he trails off, frowning as he steps forward. Curiosity piqued, you follow him, staying quiet when he bends down to look at something.

“This,” he states, picking the object up. You frown, going to look at it.

“A blue petal?” you wonder, frowning. “What’s that doing here? It’s fall, and there are no blue flowers over here.”

Your friend nods in agreement. “I have the strangest feeling that I should hold onto this.”

“Then keep it somewhere safe. Your gut is almost always right.”

You’re about to add something when…

“Ow!” you cry, grunting as a sharp pain emanates from your head. It’s like a headache, but way more intense.

You hear Garry saying your name before he too cries out, kneeling down as well. You clutch your skull, willing for the pain to subside, when…

A/N: Thanks for the support on this series so far! I hope you enjoyed. I hope that the next chapter will be out soon. Reblogs, likes, and comments are all highly appreciated <3333 Also, please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates :D

#ib #rpg horror #reader insert #ib garry #ib game #garry x reader #garry ib #series

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stan-of-many · 3 years

Text

White Collar Fic Masterlist

***Updated with new fics regularly***

I’ve decided that it’s finally time for an official White Collar fic Master List for tumblr. I’m no longer reblogging this list when new fics come out, I’ll simply add them and announce with another post.

These are links to all my White Collar fics in the order in which they were written (newest at the bottom)(not including a few ficlets under 500 words) (AO3: stan_of_many)

I’ll also say right here that I am always down to hear prompts. No slash please and I can’t guarantee anything, but I’d love to hear ‘em.

The title is the link

Not Everything Is A Con

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Diana is miserable, stuck in the van with the flu, and an antsy CI who may be better company than she thinks as long as it's not just a con...

Preview: “The hours of staring at the screen and listening to static had taken its toll and the nasty headache from that morning had returned with a vengeance, settling behind her eyes and at the base of her head. She stifled a small whimper of pain as she dropped her head in her hands and pressed her fingers into her eyes. She could hear Neal lean over, 'You okay Diana?' His voice was gentle. She sat up determined not to let Neal see her being beaten by a small headache. 'I’m fine Caffrey.'"

Notes: first White Collar fic I ever wrote and it’s Diana and Neal which is kinda funny. Featuring caring!neal which I love.

Just A Criminal

Words: 3.6k

Summary: Peter comes across the hurting side of Neal Caffrey.

Preview: “The brief feeling of relief that Neal hadn’t been sneaking off to get into who knew what kind of trouble was quickly overshadowed as Peter suddenly noticed the uncharacteristic slump of Neal’s shoulders. His head was slightly bowed as he stood, back to Peter, seemingly doing nothing more than watching the ant-sized people and tiny cars on the street below.”

Notes: Hurting Neal and Fatherly Peter is just the bestest imo (as you will see based on how many more there are focus on that), but this was kind of my first peter & neal fic so it holds a special place in my heart.

A Shake Of The Head

Words: 821

Summary: Missing scene for if Peter and Neal had gotten a chance to say goodbye before Neal runs at the end of Season 3

Preview: “A shake of the head. A simple shake of the head was all it took to sever the most important person besides Elizabeth from Peter’s life. Just a slight shake of his head as he made eye contact, standing slightly above the sadistic Kramer, and like a bird finally freed from its cage, Neal was gone in the wind. But Peter didn’t regret it.”

Notes: this was fun because a friend of mine finished season three right before she went back to college and couldn’t watch White Collar for months and she begged me for some type of closure...so I provided.

Loaned Away

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Neal gets loaned to Organized Crime for the day and Peter shows how to really care for a CI when he sees the bruises.

Preview: “Peter frowned slightly, realizing that Neal hadn’t spoken since Ruiz had practically dragged him in by his collar. Usually he’d be making about five different excuses for why nothing could possibly ever be his fault and cheekily denying every accusation. As it was, he stood silent.”

Notes: Honestly I just really like this one. Just an excuse for some shameless h/c and Peter being caring and sweet and fatherly.

Feigning Illness

Words: 10k. Chapters: 2

Summary: Their relationship is already strained after the warehouse disaster and Peter isn’t inclined to believe that Neal’s really sick...but sometimes even the best conmen are really just not feeling well and even suspicious agents care about their partners

Preview: “Neal heard Peter walk closer and could almost feel the look of intense suspicion from the Agent before a hand gently grabbed his shoulder and turned him around to face his handler. Neal was not expecting the expression that really painted Peter’s face as he met his gaze; far from suspicion, it was one of caring concern. ‘You really aren’t feeling well are you?’ Peter questioned quietly.”

Notes: Soft and gratuitous sick fic, I reread this one sometimes almost as if it were someone else’s work. This may be one of my personal favorites (which is hard to say because they’re all my children).

Pining Away

Words: 4.4K

Summary: A season 5 story where Neal has a new handler and Peter decides that it’s best if he steps back for a while—which only makes them realize how much they need each other.

Preview: ““It’s about Neal sir.” Siegel noticed the flurry of emotions that passed across Peter’s face at the mention of the CI’s name, fondness, annoyance, but mostly sadness—longing. “He’s not doing well.” Peter looked startled,

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No sir.” The young agent took a breath, “He’s lonely. He misses you, I think more than he even realizes.””

Notes: Season five was really weird for me because I absolutely adored David Siegel (who deserved so much better!!!) and wanted to see way more of him and Neal, while also hating with every bone in my body the angst between Peter and Neal and the fact that Peter wasn’t his handler. Yeah, it was difficult to reconcile, but here’s me trying to do that.

5 Times Neal Was There When Someone Needed Him and One Time Someone Was There For Him

Words: 9.4k. Chapters: 6

Summary: What it says on the tin. One-shots of five times Neal was caring, sweet, and there for people who needed help and one time Peter was caring, sweet, and there for him.

Preview: “Peter wasn’t the type to feel insecure but he envied the CI sometimes as he watched the ease with which Neal could make someone feel comfortable, reassure them that everything was okay, dry a woman’s tears and sweetly amuse a small child.

Those skills of course had been used to cheat and swindle his way across five continents, but Neal Caffrey also cared about people, and knew how to show it.”

Notes: Classic format for some of my favorite stories that I’ve written (idk what I’m saying they’re all my favorites but you know what I mean). We see Neal hurting and Neal being cared for a lot in fanfic but I wanted to explore Neal as the comforter...something we actually see somewhat often in canon.

Justice and Compassion

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Neal is familiar with the good cop tactic, but Agent Peter Burke is confusingly kind—Or “Neal gets arrested by the FBI and learns about the idea of compassion.”

Preview: “...Burke just looked at him searchingly for a moment longer. His eyes softened as he met Neal’s and Neal had the uncomfortable feeling that Burke saw through him like glass, past the mask of cool con man to the terrified kid that the mask protected. Nobody had ever looked at him that way before. Nobody had ever cared much about what was behind the mask.”

Notes: First part of my three-part “Justice and Compassion series”, a series that explores the depths of Peter and Neal’s relationship four years pre-canon—when Neal was first arrested. I’ll honestly just say I absolutely adored writing these fics.

Tough Love Doesn’t Have To Be Brutal

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Peter Burke comes home from one of the most triumphant days of his career saddened and confused and learns a few things about Neal Caffrey from his wife.

Preview: “Peter let out a long breath, and looked up at her, ‘El, the day I caught Neal Caffrey was supposed to be one of the greatest days of my career.’

‘And it isn’t?’ Her expression was sympathetic and a bit confused. He shook his head.

‘There was nothing great, El, about arresting an intelligent, friendly, stupid kid whose been showing off to the world in the most idiotic way and watch him struggle damn hard not to fall apart from the consequences.’”

Notes: Second part of my three-part “Justice and Compassion” series. Like all three, it can be read individually but I think it builds a fuller story with the other two.

Weighed and Not Found Wanting

Words: 3.6k

Summary: Both agent and criminal are stunned by the unexpectedly harsh sentence, but Peter’s concern for Neal brings important questions—and even more important answers—to light.

Preview: ““Why do you care?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere and Peter just stared in horrified confusion.

“That you don’t get beaten up or assaulted?”

“No,” Caffrey’s voice was quiet, “just about me—in general.”

The question, asked with such confused sincerity, broke Peter’s heart.””

Notes: Third and final fic in my “Justice and Compassion” series. If you held a gun to my head and told me to pick which of my fics is my absolute favorite...it would probably be this one. It’s just so caring, with boatloads of h/c. Like the other two it can be read individually but is much better with the others.

Intentionally Uncommon

Words: 1.6k

Summary: A casual incident on a stakeout leads Peter to reflect on where Neal Caffrey came from...and why he’s hurting.

Preview: “Something had caused a sweet young boy to rebuild himself, piece by glossy piece, until he was something else entirely: something special, different, quality—something far beyond the ordinary.

When Peter really thought about it, his heart broke for the young boy who had really never stopped running from his past.”

Notes: One of those sweet simple fics—a moment where Peter realizes early into their partnership that Neal isn’t as put together as he’d like to pretend.

Perfectly Fine

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Neal is struggling and won’t let himself ask for help—but help comes anyway in the form of an observant and caring Peter Burke. A story that explores how Neal deals with pain and how Peter learns to help him.

Preview: ““I’m fine.” Oh, Peter was so sick of those words—empty, deflecting, completely untruthful, and used like an iron shield to keep compassion at bay. It was a constant refrain with Neal, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” ...Peter knew Neal too well now to dismiss those shallow “I’m fine’s” with a shrug.”

Notes: Angsty h/c sick/exhaustion fic. I was going for a fluffy uncomplicated sick fic and...yeah it didn’t turn out that way. But we’re all suckers for the angst so no apologies. The interesting thing about this one, it deals with Kate’s death but it’s not a story about Neal dealing with Kate’s death—it’s a story about how Neal deals with pain in general and Peter helping Neal through. Watching an interview with Matt Bomer he talks about how Neal is the type to fight grief with action and not to mope around...which is why I think that this description of Neal running himself into the ground is rather accurate.

The Way Neal Caffrey Saw It

Words: 3.0k

Summary: Peter stumbles onto a part of Neal that he’s never seen before and learns a thing or two about the world through Neal Caffrey’s eyes

Preview: “Neal’s expression was intent, expertly focused as his hands moved over the canvas. But it was the open, peaceful, joy on his friend’s face was the most startling part of entire scene. There was an almost childlike openness in Neal’s expression that was so many miles from the usual sauve and cool front the man put forward every day that the agent just stared, mouth hanging slightly open.”

Notes: Looking at the artistic side of Neal. I think Neal’s artistic talents and sensibilities are not so often touched on in the fandom (perhaps reflective of the show) which is a bit of a shame as I think there’s a lot of potential there. I’m honestly not quite sure how to characterize this fic otherwise. Unlike my usual, the focus is not angst and h/c (though there is some) but more...human connection/emotion I guess?

So You’re The Greatest Con Man of the 21st Century?

Words: 4.7k

Summary: Peter has to care for his sick CI and finds he doesn’t actually have to dig too deeply to be good at it. Basically pure sick fic with both of the boys looking out for each other.

Preview: “Peter felt suddenly and intensely protective as Neal settled, his face too hot against Peter’s shoulder, his skin too hot against the rag on his neck, everything too hot as he curled up against his handler like an ill child seeking comfort. There was something bizarrely intimate about the fever, lowering Neal’s defenses so drastically, leaving him so unusually reliant...”

Notes: A lot of my fics have been more emotional angst and hurt/comfort focused but I was rereading some of my old favorite saved fics and was reminded of how soft and happy a pure sick fic can be so I wrote one!

A Random Nothing of a Day in November

Words: 1.5k

Summary: It’s just a normal day in White Collar when Peter gets the sudden and rather stunning revelation that Neal is more than just his CI.

Preview: “The idea of having a ‘best friend’ had felt a bit like a middle school distinction to Peter most of his life, but he was wondering now if, maybe, it was because he had never actually had a best friend—not really—until now.”

Notes: Just soft and happy and deliciously fluffy, exploring some of the everyday dynamics of the White Collar office and Peter and Neal’s relationship while also exploring Peter’s thoughts on his relationship with Neal.

A Sapling of Trust

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Written from a request for a fic about Neal’s trust in Peter.

Preview: “Neal had no family. No ‘inner circle’. For Neal Caffrey trust was no commonality, no every day occurrence, it wasn’t something that was a natural part of life, love, and relationships. Trust was something Neal had never truly had in any person. Neal’s trust was an exquisite and precious gift, something that had never been created before. And Neal had given this gift to Peter.”

Notes: I got inspired and wrote this in a day so kindly overlook my mistakes. I know (well, hope) that actually getting something out there will really help me truly get over my slump.bI also feel like this piece reads a bit differently than my usual style, perhaps because it is less focused on any one event and more on an overarching character trait. I do like expanding my horizons though so I don’t mind.

Leaving Paradise Behind

Words: 3.6k

Summary: Neal struggles to leave the loneliness of Cape Verde behind and Peter cares. Prompt fill for a requested sick fic.

Preview: “All around was sand and sun and heat and sweat and more sand and Neal was hot, just so hot and—something cool touched the back of his neck and Cape Verde mercifully began to melt away...”

Notes: Written for prompt “I'd love to see a story in which Neal feels weird and tired so he fakes being sick to get some extra rest, only to discover that he felt weird and tired because he’s actually sick. Peter doesn’t believe him and stops by on his lunch break, only to discover Neal fast asleep with a fairly high fever.” Some nice post S3 finale sickfic angst.

Not So Bad After All

Words: 4.6k

Summary: Neal’s feeling sick and trying not to show it. Peter and El aren’t about to let him get off that easy. Almost pure sick fic for a tumblr request.

Preview: “Peter was usually extremely out of his element around emotional or sick people, but around Neal some protective instinct always seemed to kick in. He’d intend to stand back and give his CI some space but then Neal moaned quietly and clutched shakily at the toilet as if he wasn’t quite sure which was up, and Peter was by his side in an instant.”

Notes: Requested fic written for my sweet Tumblr anon who asked “I was wondering if you could write another cute and fluffy Neal sickfic, just something really cute about Neal trying to carry on with life with a flu or something? Life's been sort of trash lately and i would truly truly appreciate it! Your writing’s keeping me going lately!”

It’s Not In Your Blood

Words: 8.8k Chapters: 4

Summary: 5x04 fic exploring the fallout of Dr. Summers manipulation of Neal as Peter helps him navigate the lies and the truth.

Preview: “ “Your behavior is sociopathic.’

The words hit like four tiny, poisonous darts, utterly startling and horrifying in their sting.

“I’m sorry?” For a moment Neal couldn’t hold back the very real shock.

“I’m a wall.” He had told Peter with cocky confidence, but now, as this woman sitting across the small table analyzed him with cold precision, that wall was tumbling with terrifying speed.”

Notes: Okay so “Controlling Interests” is fascinating and sad because Neal’s getting his head messed with by Summers—in two ways! First, he’s truly taken aback and I think somewhat frightened by her “sociopathic” diagnosis (which is never touched on again) and second, she seems to literally psychologically manipulate him into a criminal relapse. And at the end of episode 4 he’s ready to go back to the life and just steal things ‘because they’re there’ and seems to have lost the conscience he’s been learning from Peter. But the next few episodes are fun, all is well, and he seems as good as ever. Though he’s still doing illegal things, it isn’t ‘because he can’, it’s because of Hagen and such, and then we see him fully convinced he can go straight. So, what the heck happened to fix everything?????? He was clearly startled and taken aback at being called sociopathic, he was clearly manipulated into ‘giving into his impulses’, and then he’s just fine??? Sorry, no. Here’s what happened.

The Value of a Life

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Neal takes unnecessary risks and Peter is angry and lashes out—until he realizes the underlying problem. Sweet and emotional with a lot of angst and h/c.

Preview: Peter was furious with his impulsive CI, the criminal with a self destructive savior complex that would be the death of him. That thought twisted Peter’s heart so painfully that it was all he could do not to scream in Neal’s face to be more careful and lock him up until he well and truly got the message.

But now Neal was looking at him, scared by a bullet earlier and still trembling despite his attempts to hide it, frightened by Peter’s anger in a way Peter had rarely seen, his eyes begging Peter to explain, to make it better...

Notes: This is pretty angsty and also...really sweet. Perhaps *too* sweet, I’m not quite sure since I have no perspective as the author. I considered rewriting it a bit but then I decided to put it out as it is, I could always rewrite it later based on feedback. Please definitely tell me your thoughts.

Blizzard Conditions

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Even simple illnesses can become dangerous if help isn’t available. The White Collar team gets stuck at the FBI offices during a blizzard and Neal is quickly becoming dangerously ill...

Preview: “Diana looked over at the CI who sat shivering in the chair, cheeks flushed with fever yet far too pale everywhere else.

“He really doesn’t look good.”

Neal didn’t even take mock offense but began coughing—hard. Peter made an aborted gesture toward him, clearly unsure what to do. He looked over at Diana, hiding a worried expression that the Junior agent knew too well to be fooled...”

Notes: So I wrote most of this like a pretty long time ago—long enough that I feel like my writing style has changed and improved and I wasn’t really sure I was going to post it. But some tumblr friends encouraged me in the fact that even if I have higher standards for myself, there are still people who will enjoy this. Not trying to discourage anyone from reading it—it’s not bad, I just have higher standards for myself now.

What Partners Do

Words: 2.8k

Summary: A request fill in which Neal tries to deal with everything alone as usual and Peter (being the good handler/partner/dad that he is) refuses to let him.

Preview: “The exhaustion, helplessness, humiliation, and a great deal of pain were building up into sharp irritability but it wasn’t fair to take it out on Peter and Neal turned away, embarrassment and guilt adding to the miserable mix...a moment later Neal felt a warm hand on his shoulder, rubbing comfortingly down his back.”

Notes: This was written in about a day and a half filling the request from a Tumblr anon who said “Can I ask for a cute fic where Neal maybe gets injured or something during a case and is trying to do everything himself (because he always did everything by himself) but can’t and then enter Peter being like you can ask for help!”

If We Have Each Other Than We’ll Both Be Fine

Words: 17.7k Chapters: 6

Summary: A post canon fix-it that not only reunites Peter and Neal but deals with the pain and consequences of Neal’s decision on both men. In which Peter rediscovers a son, Neal is atrocious at taking care of himself, and a rock-solid brotherhood is beautifully brought to light. Overwhelmingly full of feels, some angst, some fluff, and a boatload hurt/comfort.

Preview: “A figure caught Peter’s eye, perhaps fifteen feet away. The man was turned away from him, a fitted suit, confident posture, but most heartstoppingly— dark hair partially hidden under a fedora.

It couldn’t be.

For an eternity of a moment Peter couldn’t speak a word, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Finally,

“Neal.”

Notes: I’ve read a fairly good amount of reunion fics and several of them I’ve really really enjoyed, but the problem is that they often stop there. At the reunion. See, I wanted the reunion but I also wanted more. There’s too much for both men to experience and process for it to end there—Peter’s grief would not be a simple thing to leave behind even if Neal returned and Neal would be faced with the fact that he hurt everyone he loved in one of the worst ways possible.

So, this is a reunion fic and far beyond—exploring the difficulty as well as the joy. Yes, it’s angsty at times, but guys it is so, so sweet, so, so caring. I promise, this won’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth but hopefully will leave you sighing with contentment and grinning widely. That’s my aim anyway.

A Shattered Mask of Calm

Words: 2.9k

Summary: A prompt fill for a request asking for a fic of Neal being truly afraid and Peter being there for him. Mentions of sexual assault but NO rape— don’t worry this is not a depressing story.

Preview: “After about three minutes of watching, Peter had had enough and reached out a hand gently toward Neal’s shoulder. He was intending to try and relax his friend, wordlessly reassure him as he occasionally did, but as his hand touched Neal’s body the younger man flinched—full bodied and violently.”

Notes: A fill for a prompt from an anon on Tumblr who asks: “Could you maybe write a fic about Neal having to unexpectedly face one of his fears - maybe something Peter didn't know about? I'd love to see Neal actually frightened by something and Peter being there.”

I’m Stronger Up Against the Ropes

Words: 4.4k

Summary: Neal is pushed to his limits on an operation as Peter can only watch and be there to catch him if he falls.

Preview: “It was a situation that called for Neal’s A-game but Peter couldn’t imagine A-game was a possibility for someone running a fever around 103.

Neal’s mask stayed firmly in place, but even Neal Caffrey couldn’t perfectly keep up a con so strenuous for a great length of time...His gaze sharp with concern, Peter could literally see the fine cracks running through the shiny facade as it grew harder for Neal to keep up the con.”

Notes: At any given time I have about ten to twenty-two half-finished ideas and fics in my notes app. This two-part series is just two of the many that I’m *finally* finishing up. Gosh it feels amazing.

The point of this series is to see two loosely connected stories in which Peter and Neal help each other through illness compounded with another difficulty. This is partially just me wanting to write more sick fic, partially me trying to actually do something with the ideas that deserve to see the light of day, and partially an actual exploration of character.

Unshakable

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Neal needs to care for Peter and learns that even the strongest people aren’t invincible.

Preview: “Don’t hurt him.” Peter gasped, “Neal—“

Neal was not expecting to hear his own name come out of Peter’s mouth from a fevered nightmare, particularly not with such intense fear and hurt in the tone— fear for Neal. He was definitely not interested in admitting to himself that seeing Peter like this— in pain, sick, frightened, and hurting was terrifying. Terrifying and horrible on so many levels.”

Notes: Loose sequel to “I’m Stronger Up Against the Ropes”. I really feel like most (and nearly all of my) White Collar fanfic is very centered on Neal as the hurt one which, yes, makes sense because he really is. But y’all I am so in love with my mans Peter Burke who’s just the best and I wanted to give him some vulnerability as well and just explore what might do that and how Neal would react to it. So...here we are.

So Put Your Best Face On Everybody

Words: 3.2k

Summary: Neal falls asleep on a car ride, Diana has a questions and a few realizations, while Peter acts as a pillow. Basically, it’s sweet.

Preview: “Peter shook himself from his momentary reverie in time to notice Diana, half turned around in the front seat, staring at Neal with a look of unhidden shock on her face...

Diana had only really ever seen the CI at work and was clearly unprepared for how open Neal looked as he slept, uninhibited and...young. Achingly young. There was a soft expression on her face that Peter had felt on his own more than once before.”

Notes: I was just going about my life and had the sudden vivid thought “Neal falling asleep on Peter’s shoulder” and then I got a ton of the story in my head and couldn’t work on anything else until I wrote it. And then of course I abandoned the for a few months as it sat niggling in the back of my brain begging to be finished and I’ve finally gotten around to it!

Ivory and Cream are Different Shades of White

Words: 2.8k

Summary: Sequel to my story ‘A Shattered Mask of Calm’ which filled a prompt asking for a situation where Neal was truly afraid. Mentions of sexual assault but NO rape.

Preview: “Neal had grown used to, even fond of, Peter’s gruff and awkwardly sweet form of affection, with lots of ‘cowboy up’s’ and slugs on the shoulder and ranting lectures that showed in little ways how much he cared...

But this, this quiet, merciful understanding as Peter sat, holding Neal’s shaking hands in his own steady ones, asking quiet questions that he didn’t press for answers to when Neal stayed silent— was careful and incredibly gentle, and despite how much Neal hated to admit it, exactly what he needed as he crumbled from the inside.”

Notes: I meant to write a time-stamp for ‘A Shattered Mask of Calm’ and accidentally wrote a sequel...

You can probably read this story without reading the first one, but it will be better with both. This is basically Elizabeth and Neal’s perspective of the situation that evening.

Cause the Welcome Will Not End

Words: 7.1k

Summary: A cold is just a cold and Peter isn’t worried until Neal manages get sopping wet and a lot more sick, calling for more from Peter than a ‘cowboy up’.

Preview: “Peter knelt down and caught him, pulling him back against his chest and trapping his head gently between his chest and hand to keep him from slipping to the floor. Neal slumped against him with no protest, too tired to move or care about the vulnerability of the gesture, relaxing ever so slightly at the steady thumping of the agent’s heart as Peter became the only thing that wasn’t sliding and tilting around him...”

Notes: Written for Caffrey-Burke Day 2021.

Absolutely zero excuses for this. It’s literally just 7k words of self indulgent sickfic inspired purely by the fact that I’ve put Neal through all kinds of illness but never really respiratory distress. I figured if I was going to do Caffrey-Burke day I might as well post one super angsty h/c fic and one super fluffy sick-fic just to even things out.

Through the Cloudy Skies

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Philip Kramer has a brutal lesson to teach Burke and his CI, the results of which leave Neal and Peter reeling and struggling to reconcile their odd partnership (though it just may leave them stronger in the end).

Preview: “...as humiliating and vulnerable as a strip search was, Peter could only imagine it would be ten times more so if it were performed by someone you’d have to face on a daily basis, not to mention someone that you respected and wanted to respect you.

No, he’d decided, when the day came he would not strip search Neal. Yet, here he was, beginning a two hour drive with a silent Neal Caffrey in the passengers seat— having done exactly that.

Peter swallowed down the bitter taste that dwelt on the back of his tongue, but couldn’t wash it away.”

Notes: Written for Caffrey-Burke Day 2021.

This story started out as basically a rejection of USA network’s propensity to gloss over some of the uglier real-life implications of their stories (it’s called their “Blue Skies era” for a reason and the title is a snipe at that) and explore Neal and Peter’s relationship through those parts that the network shied away from. Then it kind of accidentally meandered away to really look at the core of the very real difficulties of Neal and Peter’s relationship and I found myself reading it over and realizing it was honestly kind of a perfect fic for Caffrey-Burke Day.

We’ll Be Carrying Each Other

Words: 5.9k

Summary: Teen AU of Neal Caffrey as a street kid. This fic is filling a prompt based on a piece of White Collar fanart of Peter carrying Neal.

Preview: “For the first time Peter Burke is realizing just how much he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to Neal Caffrey.

This boy who has too much sensitivity and conscience and love for beauty for the harsh cards life dealt him; who’s too sacrificial and brave and stupidly idealistic for his own good, is someone Peter has to protect and has to take care of because if he doesn’t, Peter won’t be able to wake up and look at the man in the mirror.

Notes: This is a gift for my lovely (real life!) friend ElegantEscapist. We found this fanart a bit ago and she sent it to me the other day saying “I just had a really strong craving for a fic inspired by this fanart and I may be deceased if I don’t get one.” Well obviously I can’t let my dear friend die so what choice did I have? After a bit more prompting she vaguely requested a sort of street-crime teen AU. Her wish was my command and here is what I created.

Deep Roots Are Not Reached By The Frost

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Fill for 12 Days of White Collar Prompt #11: “Frosty the Snowman” | Fedoras & Mittens | Snowball fight | Frostbite/Hypothermia

Preview: “There was something about the warmth of Peter’s hands as he massaged the feeling back into Neal’s ice cold ones that warmed Neal more than just physically. It was the kindness of the gentle, uncomplicated skin-to-skin contact, the affectionate touch that was given without asking for anything in return. It brought a faint ache deep in Neal’s throat.”

Notes: I’m fairly certain that this is not my best work. But then again, I’ve found I tend to say that about pieces that I later look back on with pride. Anyway, I’m too close to it to know at the moment but either way I’ve been struggling to write recently so it feels good to get this out there.

My Dearest

Words: 7.1k

Summary: A WWII White Collar AU, filling prompt #8 for the 12 Days of White Collar Challenge: “All I Want For Christmas” | Prison Phonecalls | Longing/Grief | Realizations

Preview: “Burke’s stomach twisted as he met a pair of brilliant blue eyes. Sensitive. The sensitive ones, in Peter Burke’s opinion, were the worst. Not the worst soldiers, and certainly not the worst people, no, they were the worst to send to the frontlines. It was almost unforgivable to send any man out to war, but sending those boys with that extra love for beauty and care for people off to hell— that felt like true cruelty.

“What’s your name private?”

“Neal Caffrey, sir.””

Notes: Not sure what’s up with my recent foray into AU’s but here we are, a WWII AU to watch our Peter and Neal go off to war.

So, in the interest of full transparency I had the basic idea of this fic before the prompt, so it’s more a situation of the prompt fitting and adding to an already existent idea, but idk, I think it fits well. This one takes “All I Want For Christmas” “longing/grief” and “realizations” from prompt 8.

I kinda wanted this to be a WWI fic but the FBI was only established a few years before WWI so I kinda decided it was safer to make it WWII.

To be clear, this is not really a Kate/Neal story though it may seem that way on the face of it. Kate is simply a useful device to explore Neal’s thoughts more than anything else, which I think I communicated clearly enough but wanted to reiterate anyway. So please don’t skip Kate haters, this is a Peter and Neal story.

A Cup of Kindness

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Prompt fill for prompts #1 and #4 of the ‘12 Days of White Collar’ challenge.

Preview: “This was Elizabeth’s territory, not Peter’s. El would know how to deal with a drunk, heartbroken young conman a lot better than Peter would and for a few brief seconds the agent desperately wished his wife was there. But then Peter remembered the way Neal’s face had brightened those first few seconds at the sight of him at the door, and he remembered Neal’s words only a few minutes before, ‘I missed you’...”

Notes: This is set between episodes one and two, directly after Peter and Elizabeth come home from their vacation. This was super fun because I haven’t written this early in canon in a very long time— if ever really? I need to go back and check.

This takes “Too Much Use of Neal’s Wine Collection”, “Loneliness”, and “Hidden Hurt” from prompt #1 and “A Cup of Kindness” and “New Beginnings” from prompt #4

The Color Celadon

Words: 36.6k Chapters: 21

Summary: For an artist, a con man, and an FBI consultant, sight is one of the most valuable senses. What happens when Neal’s is taken away?

Preview: Neal’s mind was jumbled with all the terrifying possibilities; surely this was only temporary, surely he couldn’t be permanently... permanently blind—

Peter’s heart stuttered as he felt Neal beginning to tremble under his hand. The fear of what was happening, of what could happen, was finally catching up to his friend, and Peter desperately wished it hadn’t.

His heart twisted at the feeling of his confident, self assured partner trembling next to him. As he had been for the past fifteen minutes, Peter reacted on instinct.

“All right, come’ere, it’s okay.” Peter pulled Neal close, smoothing a hand over his back. “It’s going to be okay, Neal...”

Notes: This fic is definitely a ride. It’s more or less my ‘let’s put Peter and Neal through as much as angst as possible” fic, so plenty of hurt but also a ton of comfort as well. And I can promise a happy ending for those who stick around.

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