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bratshaws · 2 years ago

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goodness gracious 93. brb x oc

a/n: Bea's aunt is probably a witch

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: FLUFF, BEA'S AUNT - I REPEAT- IS PROBABLY A WITCH

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84

85/86/87/88/89/90/91/92

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes

“This…is your aunt’s house?”

“Yeah…”

Her aunt lived in Escondido, but not in any area, she lived in one of the richest condominiums there, the ones where you almost are patted down by the security guard before going past the gates - the only reason they weren’t was because the guy recognized her last name - and could smell the money coming out of the large houses. So when her and Rooster drove up and past the other mansions, he was surprised when they parked in front of Martha’s house.

It was a big house, undoubtedly so, but it was different from the rest. While it kept the Mediterranean style, the bricks were white and the roof dark brown. She had a lot, a lot of plants in the front yard that were obviously landscaped to perfection since the amount of vegetation wasn’t taking over the whole front yard.

But there was more. Her aunt had tiny statues all over her front yard as well, it took Rooster a few seconds to identify what they were but once he did, he arched one eyebrow, “Dwarves?” he questioned, pointing to a tiny statue in between the plants closest to them.

Beatrice looks down at it, “Oh no, gnomes.” she says and her fiancé just furrows his eyebrow, staring back down at the tiny creature that was sitting on a red mushroom with his hands on his chin, giving him a cheeky smile, “My aunt is mystical like that, there are crystals around too.” she gestures to the large amethyst lying next to the daisies then to the clear quartz pieces scattered all over the grass.

Bradley ‘huh’s quietly, following Beatrice up to the front door where he saw a dangling fairy chime swinging with the wind, the thin metal tubes clinking amongst each other to create a soft melody. The doors resembled the hotel’s, being large with intricate floral designs in the stained glass, the deep mahogany color of the wood making the colors appear even more vibrant than normal. Beatrice gave him a smile, then pressed the doorbell, holding his hand with her free one.

There was the soft yapping coming from behind the door, followed by a voice calming the dog down and the door slowly unlocking. Martha’s tall figure appeared once it was open, wearing a long patterned dress - as usual - with billowy sleeves and her glasses on the bridge of her nose, “Oh, my sweet darlings, how happy I am to see you two.” she wasted no time in engulfing both in a hug, kissing their foreheads and then stepping back, “Come on in, oh,” she looks down where a tiny dog was looking up at them, “This is Bailey, he’s just a bit curious about you Bradley, do not worry he won’t nip your feet!”

Bailey’s little body resembled a pomeranian but his ears were longer, like a corgi’s, “Hi Bailey,” Beatrice cooed, crouching down to scratch the tiny dog behind the ears.

“He’s so tiny.” Bradley’s amazed voice says, following Beatrice inside the house, “I’ve never seen a dog this small.” Bailey however seemed to take offense because his eyes snapped up to Rooster and the pilot could swear they narrowed when looking up at him.

But when Rooster leaned down to pet his head, the anger dissipated and he leaned on the man’s touch, tapping his back leg on the tiled floor. Rooster grinned, then looked up at the inside of her aunt’s house and that place was spacious. The living room and kitchen were open space, the large windows closest to the big comfortable looking couches were huge and showed the outside - more yard and a pool, albeit much larger than the ones they had at home. There was a family picture hanging on the wall above the fireplace with Martha,her husband and their kids, probably taken a few months back if he wasn’t wrong.

And there were more plants inside and more mystical tiny creatures hanging around. He saw another tiny gnome, this one lying on his side and holding his head up - on the bookcase right next to him, then more crystals next to it. Beatrice chuckled, watching her fiancé look at everything completely speechless, “When I was younger and used to sleep over, she’d leave a gnome in the room I stayed in for protection,” she explains, tugging him forward to the kitchen where her aunt was, “They always look really old.”

He had to agree, he had only seen these in esoteric shops - places he never entered - so seeing so many up close and almost surrounding him was a bit wild to take in. Her aunt calls them to the kitchen, where she’s pouring some sweet tea in glasses. Now that got his attention, because he did like sweet tea a whole lot but rarely had the time to drink it, “There you go.” her aunt’s calm voice said, offering each of them a glass, “There’s only honey mixed in, are you two hungry?”

“No auntie, we already had lunch.”

Martha nodded, then gestured to the open doors that led to her backyard, “Shall we?” They followed her out of the house onto the immense backyard that looked like a forest the more they looked. If the front yard had a lot of plants, this place was the freaking amazon - was that a treehouse on the corner? Martha’s long dress flowed with the wind as she walked, waiting for them to join her on the white patio table, the large red and white parasol giving them shelter from under the hot sun. “Is the tea to your liking, Bradley? I know you like it.”

He pauses with the glass to his lips, giving her a confused smile but assuming that Beatrice told her about his love for the cold beverage, “It’s really good, ma’am, thank you.” and it was, her aunt had a few slices of lemon inside, albeit darker than normal and he wondered if it was infused with the honey she talked about.

Beatrice grinned, holding his free hand and sipping her own tea “Where’s uncle Seb, auntie?”

“He’s meeting with some investors from Bordeaux, I said there was no need to do it today but he insisted,” she chuckles, waving her hand as if she wasn’t talking about a million dollar investment her wines would get, “And the kids are busy with the hotel, so I am alone today…well, me and Bailey.” she coos looking down at the tiny dog who was sitting by her side.

Beatrice tried to think what would make her aunt want to talk to both of them. Congratulating them was one thing, she could understand that but she could do that over the phone…right? Why would she ask them both to come to her house? It was a bit confusing to her.

“Well, first things first, congratulations to both of you.” Martha smiles, leaning her chin on her interlaced fingers, the young couple sharing a look then facing her, “It is so wonderful to see love blooming like fresh flowers in spring, I am very happy for you. I told your father that too, that soon enough you’d be the one walking that aisle.”

The brunette blinks her eyes confusedly, then tilts her head just a bit in question, “Oh, when you saw my post auntie?”

“No, at my wedding.” her aunt giggles, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles, “I knew it wouldn’t take long.” While it was a sweet thought, Beatrice was once again reminded that it was very possible her family wasn’t normal, especially in the ‘cryptical’ sense. “Your father didn’t believe me, but he knew it too. Have you two thought about what you’ll do?”

“Well,” Beatrice turned to look at Rooster, giving him a small smile that he reciprocated, “We are still…digesting everything, we have to think about a lot of things and then we’ll figure out a time too.”

Her aunt, however, had a smile on her face that Beatrice could only translate to a Cheshire grin. Like she knew something but was holding back for now, with her cheeks flexing and eyes shining behind the spectacles, nodding almost diminutively, still holding her chin on her interlaced hands, “I see.” she says after a while, “Well, it is something to think about for a while. Are you two planning the wedding this year?”

“We’d like to,” it was Rooster who answered this time, “But like Bea said, we need to work on the time and budget and we took this week to have a mental break before thinking about it for real.”

Martha sips her own glass of sweet iced tea, then leans back on her seat to cross her legs and place her interlaced hands on top of the knee, “That’s a fine choice, it’ll help ease your minds before working on everything.” she then inhales, smiling, “My darlings, there is a reason why I called you two here.” that makes the two look at each other then at her, Beatrice’s aunt never stopped smiling at them, “I love both of you, I know that your presence in our family is recent Bradley, but you make my niece very happy and for that reason…I would like to pay for your wedding.”

Rooster chokes on the tea he was drinking while Beatrice almost drops her glass to the floor - right next to Bailey - in shock. The pilot has a coughing fit that makes him stand up and lean his weight on the back of the white chairs as his fiancé was still looking at her aunt with wide eyes. Martha’s smile only widened, tilting her head in question, “Holy shit…” comes Bradley’s voice once he manages to ease his breathing, “Holy fuck.”

“Auntie…w-what did you say?”

“I said I want to pay for your wedding.” Martha repeats easily, as if she’s telling her niece the weather, “And your honeymoon, of course.”

What the hell.

What the hell!!

Never, in her family, she heard of this happening. She had been to a lot of weddings, she had seen a lot of celebrations, usually - at best - the bride and groom’s families helped a tiny bit but…to pay for everything? Neither of her cousins were married, so Martha and her uncle never actually helped with that, but why…her? Beatrice couldn’t understand and she even voiced it to her aunt, “Well, it is quite simple, I want to.” Martha shrugged, “I talked to your uncle and your cousins and with Rafa and Claudia, and we all agreed it’d be helpful for you.”

Her aunt would never think that she and Rooster wouldn’t be able to handle the expenses of a wedding, she believed in them…then why would she want to pay? It’s not like they were asking for help either, “But…auntie,I don’t…understand, that’s so much money.”

“Yes.”

“And we– you–” Martha’s expression remained the same, “How–why??”

“Well, it’s quite simple besides me wanting to help you.” she says, leaning on a hand with a grin, “You are both similar in different ways and I think that you two deserve a good celebration because of your love. I know you two are capable of making it happen, of course you are, but I think you two deserve something done for you.”

The silence that followed her response was deafening.Beatrice blinked, turning her wide eyes to Bradley’s equally enlarged ones, until the pilot licked his lips and turned to Martha, “Ma’am, we can’t accept that.”

“You don’t deny a gift, Bradley.” she replies in the same calm voice, “I am not asking to be repaid, my sweet boy. I am saying I want to help you because you two deserve it. You deserve a wedding without worries or fear or anxieties. I will not input your choices, I will not make you change your mind, I am just saying that this will be an expense you won’t have to worry about.”

While her aunt made some sense, Beatrice was still trying to wrap her head around it. Why was her aunt so focused on paying it and making sure they had no expenses? Of course that was understandable…but why? Why was her aunt thinking so much about it? Did she know something Beatrice didn’t?

“October will be a good month for you.”

The memory returned after a while, she wasn’t sure why since it had nothing to do with what was going on, but her aunt wanting them to save on their money was…strange. Strange and odd. “I…do you…” Beatrice stands up, “Can you excuse us a moment, auntie?” she takes hold of Bradley’s hand with enough force to tug him away, deeper into the house and into a guest room.

Beatrice has her back to him as she closes the door, turning around to see her fiancé with his hands on his hips, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know.” she whispers, “I-I…what the hell? Did my parents- no they wouldn’t, why would she– I…I am so confused, I need to sit down-” she sits on the bed only to stand up seconds after, “No,I can’t sit down, what the hell, what the hell!!” Beatrice was more stupefied than mad, she was more confused than angry, she had no idea how to react.

Bradley didn’t know either, he knew her aunt was a nice lady and all but…pay for their wedding? And honeymoon? Why? They could pay for it, why would she want them not to? Beatrice paces around the room, wringing her hands together, looking up at him with furrowed brows, “I am speechless Brad,I never–I didn’t…oh God, why would she–”

“Baby, we can take this moment to breathe.” he tries, his own heart hammering on his chest, “Maybe we can…compromise with your aunt? I don’t like the idea of her paying everything.”

“I don’t either but you don’t know my aunt, she’s very generous like that.” she murmurs, “She likes…helping people but I don’t know why– she knows we can do it, then why would she suggest it?” Beatrice was getting a headache thinking about it, rubbing her face with both of her hands until she reaches her hair, tugging it at the roots, “But…maybe the compromise…wait, hold on we need to talk to her about it, Why are we here??”

“You brought us here, babe.”

Beatrice’s big green eyes turned to him, realization dawning over her, “Oh.” she clears her throat then, taking hold of his hand to take him back outside, “Okay, let’s just– come on.”

Martha was still sipping her tea, smiling when they returned, “Hello again.”

“Auntie,I love you but I want to know why you wanna pay for everything.”

Martha shrugged, “I just want to, tesoro.”

“That’s…not an answer.”

Martha lowers the glass to the table, folding her hands on her crossed legs and then smiles more, “What I can say is that…you’ll need the money for other things.” both of them looked at her with confusion, “I cannot elaborate.” Beatrice let go of Rooster’s hand to prop them on her hips, furrowing her eyebrows, still not believing her aunt’s words…until Martha sighed, then smiled, “I have an idea, since you two are a bit resistant to accept it, I’ll pay for the wedding and you two will pay for the honeymoon.”

Beatrice looked up at Bradley, that was an idea that both could…understand honestly, “Only the wedding?” Beatrice questions, to which her aunt nods. The brunette looks back at the pilot, who chews the corner of his mouth thinking on it.

“...I…think I can accept that, a bit weird still.” he says, “That you suggest we do that, honestly.”

“Well,I can tell you two one thing, october will be a great month for you.”

October. Beatrice frowns, “You said it before, can’t you just explain why?” her aunt chuckles softly, then shakes her head, “Oh, fine…then,well…I guess, was that why you wanted us to come? The only reason?”

“Yes, pretty much and because I’d love to have company.” she lifts her glass, “Shall we?”

They leave the aunt’s house in silence, still taking the information that Martha was going to pay for their wedding and that it was decided. Bradley was driving one handed since his other hand was holding his chin while Beatrice was supporting her head with her own, leaning on the car’s door, “So much for not thinking about the wedding.” she mutters, sinking deeper on the Bronco’s passenger seat, “I…how are you feeling about all this?”

“Kinda shocked.” he answers quickly, scratching the side of his face, “I do appreciate her saying she knows we can do it but prefers we didn’t, but I don’t get why she wouldn’t want to.” he turns his brown eyes towards her, “Was she always like that?”

Beatrice’s eyes face nothing as she remembers the many times her aunt was cryptic or strange, almost talking in riddles, “...yeah.” she answers with a short laugh, her smile faltering as she looked to the side, “I appreciate it too Roos, but…I dunno, I mean it’s one thing to not worry about I guess. She did say she couldn’t figure out a better wedding gift than that and I am…um…shocked as well.”

It’s one thing to get a nice gift that’d add to your home but to have your rich aunt pay for your wedding was…interesting. She didn’t want to complain, her aunt said she wouldn’t interfere with the decorations or whatever they wanted to do, she just wanted to make sure they’d have the perfect wedding. And then this October thing, again, “Why did she say that about October?”

“I’m not sure.” she replies, “She said that to me again, months back when we were buying stuff for Éowyn, that October would be a great month for us and she couldn’t say more.” she bites her lower lip, chewing on it, “I know she means well, but it was still weird.”

“Yeah…but then again, maybe because she noticed we are a bit,” he moves his hand for emphasis, “All over the place and don’t know what to do, she chose to help?”

That’d make sense honestly. Yeah, that was probably why.

“You are right, well, either way it’ll be used properly you know?” she smiles, the heavy and confused atmosphere turning into a much lighter one, their tense shoulders lowering as Bradley took them home.

When they got to the house, Beatrice’s phone started pinging with messages, one after another. She blinked, holding it up to her eyes when they entered the garage. Evelyn wasn’t really happy to be the last one to know about the engagement and she said - well, more like ordered- the two of them to show up at her place on Sunday so they could have a celebration because of it.

Beatrice sighed, rubbing her forehead and telling Evelyn that while she appreciated it, she and Rooster were still enjoying the downtime. Plus she already had a lot on her mind because of her aunt wanting to pay for their wedding, she needed a mental break from it for right now…that’s why Evelyn told her that they could come on the very next week then and that they had to celebrate one way or another.

Bradley looked back at the brunette who was tapping her phone against her forehead repeatedly, chuckling to himself, ‘Baby,” she stops and sighs, dropping the phone to her lap, “It’s okay, we’ll be fine.”

“My mind is like,” she moves her hands in a circle over her temples, “All over the place Brad…you know what would be really good? Ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” he asks as he steps out of the car to follow her inside, watching her pick up Jolene like a baby when the pittie rushed over to greet them, “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Actually,” she turns around, still holding the large dog who was now looking at Bradley upside down, “Maybe we should just…” his eyebrow goes up in questioning, “I…I don’t know…just do nothing.”

Rooster’s chest moves when he laughs, the brunette looked absolutely lost on what to do and he couldn’t blame her, honestly he felt a bit drained and confused himself,”I have a much better idea,” he says after tossing his sunglasses to the side, rolling his neck ,”A nap.”

“A nap?”

“Yes, a nap.” he repeats, “I think it might be good to reset our minds. Let’s make this the last things we have to think about the wedding, yeah? Then it’s about enjoying some alone time together, the three of us.” Jolene’s tongue lolled out of her mouth in a doggy smile, “And then, then next week we’re going to step on the gas and worry. Deal?”

“God, yes, please, deal.” she laughs breathlessly, the front of her face hitting his chest - Jolene squished between the two but not at all bothered - smelling his cologne, “I love you,I’m sorry my family is so crazy.”

“I love you too and don’t apologize,” he smiles, kissing the top of her head, “Your family is crazy but it could be worse…have you seen Mav?” Beatrice looks up at him, “He may appear normal now but when I was younger? Crazy shit.”

Beatrice huffs a laugh on his chest, slowly lowering Jolene back to the ground so the pittie could zoom around them. Her now free arms wrapped around his middle, nuzzling the part of his chest that wasn’t covered by the white tee, “I believe you, amazingly.” she whispers, “You never told me much about Mav when you were younger.”

His eyes avoided hers for a second with his lower lip disappearing into his mouth, “I guess I am now at peace sharing it.” he muttered, “You know I was mad at him for a long time, baby.”

‘I know. But you don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

His smile softened, one of his large hands cupping her soft cheek, “You are going to be my wife,I wouldn’t want to hide anything from you.” he coos, kissing her soft yet grinning lips, ‘But before that, napping. I feel like passing out right here.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

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secretobsessionstuff · 2 years ago

Note

can you please do Kota and Blair for 18,43,78 on the “are you ok responses”?? maybe they get into an argument while blair isn’t feeling well so she leaves the room which prompts 18?

Thanks for the request!! The prompts come from THIS lovely post and I used:

18. "Like you care."

43. *can't answer over the urge to gag*

78. *humming no and cradling belly* "Mm-mm. M-My stomach..."

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

Blair dropped her bag and coat onto the floor by the front door and made a beeline—ha Beeline—to the kitchen cabinet where they kept the medicine. She did not make that particular pun in her head, because her head was too sore to entertain any thoughts that weren’t about pain.

The ache had first wrapped itself around her forehead, but quickly spread so that it wrapped around her whole body. The muscles in her shoulders and back felt constricted with tension. Her stomach too was feeling the discomfort of an intense ache. As if enveloped in an unwanted hug, she found herself sticky and uncomfortable, unable to shrug off the annoying weight that settled into her bones.

She shook two pills into her hand and debated taking something for nausea. Blair never had much luck with anti-nausea pills; they never worked fast enough to stay down. The likelihood of the ibuprofen staying down wasn’t looking great either. The only reason she was chancing these pills was because she felt like she might stab the next person who spoke to her if she didn’t try something.

Unfortunately for Dakota, he greeted Blair in the kitchen, solidifying his role as The Next Person Who Spoke to Blair.

She did not stab him even though he came bouncing into the room, rambling about dinner. He made a Kotaline—you know, like Beeline—to the fridge. He opened the fridge so quickly that the jars and cans in the door clinked together annoyingly. Everything was annoying to Blair just then.

Dakota shoved a handful of grapes into his mouth. “Thank God you’re home. I’m starving and we have literally nothing to eat,” he said literally eating fruit out of his palm.

He spun around from the fridge and scanned the kitchen for something specific…something Blair was beginning to think she had forgotten. “Where’s the takeout? Did you get it?” He looked at her with exaggerated intensity. “Bee? Where’s our food?”

Ah yes, the food. The food that Blair was supposed to pick up after the work. The food that would single-handedly save Dakota from starvation. That food.

Blair didn’t want to look at him when she told him the bad news. What? With the way her stomach was aching, dinner was the last thing on her mind. She sat down on the kitchen stool with a sigh, burying her head in her hands. “I forgot it,” she mumbled, kneading her fingers into her forehead and eyes.

“No. You’re lying. You’re joking.”

“Fine. I’m lying. You’re right.”

“Really?” Dakota asked, perking up like a dog.

“No!” Blair slammed her hands on the kitchen counter. She didn’t mean to slam her hands, but they came down so heavily. Everything was so heavy. Her eyelids. Her stomach. The organ whined as if it had been stuffed with rocks. She blew a puff of air out of her nose, trying to remain composed. Dakota was just staring at her as if she maliciously flushed all their food down the toilet. She rubbed her hands together to get the tingling feeling to go away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a good day and I just wanted to get home.

“So, you purposely skipped getting dinner?”

“No. I really did forget it. I left work and my brain just drove me home. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, you weren’t thinking.” Dakota licked his lips and dragged his hand over his mouth. “I take it that means you didn’t pick up my prescription either?”

“What?”

“I asked you to pick up my meds on your way home.”

“When?” Blair had no memory of this.

“This morning before you left.” Dakota was starting to get antsy now, moving aimlessly around the kitchen. Blair knew he got stressed whenever he missed a day of his adhd meds.

There was so much she could say to this. Did Dakota even wait for a reply this morning or did he just assume that she would get his prescription? Did she give any indication that she heard him say this? The answer was no, obviously, considering that she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.

And why did she have to do everything? She wasn’t the one sitting at home all day. He could have gone to the pharmacy. He could have gone grocery shopping. Hell, he could have done the dishes that were currently piled high in the sink.

But Blair didn’t say any of this. She was too tired to fight. Her belly was making enough fuss as it was. She placed her hand on her abdomen, feeling it cramp and churn. She didn’t want to do this right now. Dakota was still wandering around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets. When he said her name, she realized that he was expecting more.

“Can we talk about this later? I had a terrible day, and I don’t feel well.”

“What about dinner?”

This time Blair did want to slam her hands on the counter. He wasn’t listening to her at all, only caring about his own needs. A sudden hiccup made her shoulders jump. The sound was half hiccup, half groan. “I really don’t care! I’m not hungry” —so very very far from being hungry— “Just do what you want.”

“Oh okay, because you’re not hungry, everything is fine, then?” Dakota finally came to a stop, just long enough to glare at her.

That might have been the first instance where he saw something wasn’t quite right with the way she looked. Kinda pale. Kinda shaky. But in the midst of the argument, his mind didn’t connect the pieces just yet, despite everything she’d been saying. He was still thinking about how his day might look tomorrow if he didn’t take his meds. “And it wasn’t your prescription so who cares, right?”

God, Blair swore in her head, he was being so hypocritical right now. And sarcastic, and he kept putting words in her mouth. The last thing she wanted was anything in her mouth. But of course, he was feeding her words that she didn’t want, or think. Not only that, but she could feel bile rising in the back of her throat.

“Kota—hic—please.” She hiccupped again, this time it brought with it a burp that coated her tongue in a slimy layer of saliva. “I don’t want to fight right now.” She wasn’t sure how long they were going to argue like this, but she was certain that her stomach would not last long before sending up her lunch.

“Well, I don’t want to fight either but—” Dakota paused as she stood up from the stool and started to walk away. Honestly it was closer to a jog. As she passed him, she burped wetly into her hand. It did not sound good. Dakota grimaced at how sick that burp sounded. Now she was more than just kinda pale. More than kinda shaky. “Are—are you okay?”

She had to sneer at this. “Like you care.”

“Of course, I care,” Dakota said as he followed her down the hall. Damn she was moving fast now. Something was not right. “For real, babe, are you alright?”

Blair did not answer him. She was too busy gagging into her hand. Her belly lurched but she managed to keep the sick from spilling past her lips, at least until she made it to the bathroom.

She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, letting out a gush of pale orange liquid. Hot vomit burned her throat before splashing into the water below.

“Oh.” Dakota stood frozen in the doorway. “Shit.”

More sick gurgled up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut as the next heave rocked her forward. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the bowl. Each wave made tears leak onto her cheeks.

There was no chance to catch her breath in between bouts. It just kept coming. Her poor belly was spasming painfully, like a rag being wrung out to release the liquid trapped inside.

“Ugh God,” she mumbled as a harsh retch made her hair fall down by her face.

Dakota snapped out of his shock, perhaps realizing that he had soon-to-be husbandly duties, one of which was holding his soon-to-be wife’s hair back. He knelt beside her and gathered her hair up in his hand. With his free hand, he traced his fingers up and down her spine. “Okay, alright,” he muttered as he patted her back. “Get that shit up.”

She was shaking and burning up beneath his touch. He could feel the heat on the back of her neck from where he held her hair.

For a while longer, she stayed on her knees, too afraid to move from her spot.

Eventually, Blair let out a deep burp. It rumbled in her chest and made her shiver with a new spike of nausea. Another gag had her pitching forward. Nothing came up this time except for frothy saliva. She groaned and spat into the toilet.

She sighed heavily, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and leaned back against the wall. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Ugh, I feel horrible.”

Dakota settled into a better position as well, groaning as he pulled his feet out from under him to sit cross-legged. He took in the sight of her wan complexion “Oh Bee, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sick.” He wore a look of pure guilt and never took his hand off her thigh. “Are you okay?”

Blair made a low humming noise in her throat as if to say no and shook her miserably. “Mm-mm. M-My stomach...” She kept her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around her belly.

He felt like kicking himself. “I know. You’re really not feeling well at all.”

Blair cracked an eye open. “So, you did hear me say that.” It wasn’t really a question—more of a trap that Dakota was sure to fall into.

He stuttered. “I—I was being an asshole and I wasn’t listening to you.”

She shook her head at him. “That was the first right thing you said to me since I got home.”

“I feel like a jerk.”

“Oh, that’s because you’re a jerk.”

Dakota gave her a sad, puppy-dog look. “I’m really sorry, you know that right?”

“Maybe…”

“Mmh? Okay…” He moved closer to her and kissed her forehead. “Do you forgive me now?” He kissed her nose. “Or maybe now?” Finally, he picked up her hand and gave it the softest of kisses. “How about now?” he whispered.

Blair looked down in an attempt to conceal her smile, but Dakota lifted her chin back up. He wore the cheekiest grin.

“Ah I see that smile.” He kissed her nose again before backing up to give her space. “Ah you love me again,” he said in sing-song voice.

“I never stopped, idiot,” Blair said. Then she got serious for a second. “But you can’t just kiss me to make it all okay.”

“But I kissed you even though you’re covered in germs.” The look she gave him made him throw his hands up in surrender. “But you’re right. You’re right. I’ll pick up my own damn prescription right now and then go grocery shopping.”

“Thank you. But first…”

“Yes?”

“Help me to bed.”

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fantastiqueparfait · 5 years ago

Text

Fluff Prompt 78: “I need you. Please, stay.”

Surprise! Two months late, but a Tumblr exclusive for you all. There’s more here, I know for sure. I just don’t know when it’ll be finished... maybe later this summer. Keep an eye out; it’ll be posted to AO3 and FFN whenever that time comes.

Tag list: @heyy-ahriii, @meggz0rz, @dangerouspompadour, @disgruntledbeast, @umacaking, @ideasthatbuildcities, @hinezumi (I’m going from memory here, so my sincere apologies if you’ve been left off the tag list -- let me know if you’d like to be on the general tag list going forward).

“I don’t think I can do this.”

The breeze picked up, lifting a strand of hair and tickling it across Kagome’s face. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation, tucking her hair back behind her ear as she slouched back against the trunk of the Goshinboku, her knees to her chest. She looked up, relishing in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the remarkably early leaves on such an unseasonably warm January day. She never wanted to leave this place.

She was startled from her daydream as a larger hand grabbed her own, a calloused thumb caressing her palm. Kagome turned her head to take in the sight of Inuyasha sprawled against the trunk of the tree, dozing lazily with Tessaiga cradled in his left arm.

“Who the fuck is telling you that?” The question was barely audible, more of a groggy mumble than anything else. He cracked an eye open as he turned to meet her gaze.

“Nobody’s telling me that,” she grumbled, moving to rest her forehead on her knees. “It just feels so… final,” she sighed, her voice thick with emotion that she wasn’t ready to confront. “I’m not ready.”

Not ready for what the future held, not ready for the possibility that…

No. Think about that later. Not now. Not here.

She heard it before she felt it – the quiet metallic clink as he set Tessaiga down on a nearby root before he shifted closer to her, draping an arm around her shoulders as he twisted his body to rest his forehead against her temple.

“Nothing final but death,” his breath ghosted down her neck, hot against her skin. “Hell, even that ain’t final sometimes,” he scoffed.

Kagome let out a short laugh, if only to keep from sobbing.

“Don’t know why you give these tests so much power over you, anyway,” he murmured. “Especially since you say this one is optional. Just see how it goes and decide from there.”

It was true; even her mother had said the same thing. Worst case, she could study again for next year. Best case, she could choose to defer her studies until life was more manageable. Either way, there were positives to a year off.

Kagome didn’t want to think about that, though. She wanted to live in this moment forever. She wanted to memorize every detail, to hold on to everything that she could – the way the light played across her legs, the way his hand felt in hers, the warmth of his body…

“Besides, you already passed the hardest test of all,” he smirked as he set her hand down and picked up Tessaiga, rising to leave. “What’s there to worry about?”

Everything.

“Don’t go.” Her voice was shaking; she cursed herself for it. “Please? Stay with me just a little longer.”

Unexpectedly, Inuyasha obliged. He returned to where Kagome sat, picking her up and resettling them both: Kagome between his legs, her back against his chest.

“Just until you fall asleep,” he conceded.

They stayed like that for a while. Minutes? Hours? Kagome wasn’t sure. She tried to stay awake, to keep the conversation going; anything to delay the inevitable.

“You need to sleep,” he would respond to her attempts (which were growing feebler by the moment), stroking her hair or dropping a kiss to the top of her head. The last thing she remembered before succumbing to sleep was the way Inuyasha’s voice was carried off by the gentle breeze.

Kagome Higurashi woke up alone, five hundred years in the future, on a cold Saturday morning in January: the first day of the National Center Test for University Admissions.

#inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #inukag #fluff and angst #fluff prompts

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peanut-in-the-goal · 4 years ago

Note

96, 95, 91, 90, 89, 88, 84, 82, 81, 78, 76, 67, 64, 63, 62, 61, 60, 47, 41, 32, 31, 30, 27, 25, 24, 23, 22, 18, 17, 14, 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2

100% thought that you were counting backward from 99 lol

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not that I can remember

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Florida

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Telekinesis

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Actually, the first thing I might do is pray

Pretend to be asleep, waiting for the sun to rise, while I lay there I devise a plan in which I stay calm and keep my breaths even. Pretend to oversleep so my parents will come in and see the mummies standing around my bed and do what they believe to do

89: What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

Well for one, this question is terrifying

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

I don’t wish death upon anyone

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

That’s nice

82: What is your favourite word?

ANGST (I hope you realize this is a joke)

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“It’s dark and scary, it’s small, lemme out!”

(I actually have no idea tbh)

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Yes, 100%

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

I— not hating the other person

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Scrolling through Tumblr, reading on Ao3, homework. You know, the usual

64: Where is your best friend?

At her house, watching Tv on the couch

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

62: What's your favourite animal?

Snek

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yes

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Pygmy Puff

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

The cubs ig

41: What was the last book you read?

I was reading House of Hades by Rick Riordan until 4am last night (this morning?)

32: What's the worst place you have ever been to?

Probably my friend's house just because she has like 7 different tarantulas as pets, more than that actually

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

home

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Right: Moniter Left: Bookshelf

27: What's a sound you hate; sound you love?

Absolutely hate the sound of eating noises. (chewing, forks scarping, glasses clinking, burping, etc.) I physically can’t listen to that without getting uncomfortable/wanting to puke. (my friends send me asmr stuff and I hate them for it sometimes)

I love the sound of my team when we go out to a team dinner and we all sit at our own table fooling around

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

video chatting

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

I have a sticker collection from like 4th grade (don’t ask)

23: How do you vent your anger?

Writing/picking fights

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

Hell no

18: Do you believe in karma?

I believe that if you don’t watch yourself and what you say, you’ll regret it later on

17: What was the last lie you told?

I’m fine

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

running/playing soccer

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

depends on who wrote it, probably not

8: Girls... (finish the sentence); Boys... (finish the sentence)

Girls deserve the right over their own bodies

Boys can wear what they want if they want to wear a dress, let them

7: What's your strangest talent?

can shake my eyes

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Byeeee

4: What do you think about most?

Why do people read my stuff, do they tell me it’s good just for the sake of being nice? I bet they do that with soccer too

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

it only had 15 lines, so here’s the first complete sentence

“Never try to out-argue an Arab or Shortchange a whore,” Casa remembered advice from the past .”

Okay look I have no idea what this book is sorry

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Leo Knut

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lesserpandeu · 4 years ago

Text

Around The World in 17 Days | Day 1: Toronto

day 0; day 1

fandom: Seventeen

genre: Fantasy + Angst & Fluff

pairing: Chan (Dino) x Reader

words: 6,547

summary: Suffering from a condition that causes you to randomly end up in almost any place in the world, your life was a little chaotic, to say the least. When a solution seems to arise, you are more than happy to try it out. In order to heal, you need to meet the several people you are connected to by the red string of fate. And if this situation couldn't have gotten more ridiculous, one of them was your soulmate.You just don't know who.

Your first day on your mission dropped you in the big Canadian city, Toronto. You meet one of the first 'soul-bros', Chan. While you stress over how exactly you're going to fulfill your purpose with him, you end up doing it so naturally you barely even noticed.

A/N: so this has actually been out for a good year now on my ao3, but I forgot to post it here, so yeah. here. woops. ALSO I PROMISE DAY 2 IS COMING SOON I PROMISE. These things are tough because I research a lot about the cities so I get tired of working on this fic pretty easily. So it takes a lot of time, and I get lazy sooo that’s a really messy combination. Thanks for everyone who has stuck around though! You guys are amazing and believe me your comments make me want to work harder, haha.

Day 1: Toronto

As you began to regain your conscious steadily, you instantly felt an intense difference in the general comfort of your surroundings. The bed you had fell asleep on was replaced by incredibly hard surfaces. Your back was laying up right on a wall of some sort, pain generally coursing through your spine. I should’ve seen a chiropractor before I started this shit, you thought as you winced at the pain when you began to process it. Arching your back, resulting in a cracking noise, your stretched out your arms and legs. Your left leg winced and started when it hit something, causing you to hurriedly open your eyes.

A dumpster. Briefly taking a glance at your surroundings, you saw you were in a narrow alleyway. The buildings you were between were fairly tall, maybe 4 or 5 stories, and made of brick. Your best guess was that they were apartments. You next paid attention to the heat that had bothered you the instant you woke up. It was summer here still, so that wasn’t unusual. You reached for your pocket, turning on your phone. As you looked down, you started. After the brief panic, you observed closer what had spooked you.

A thread from the one tied around your finger led across the alleyway, turning around the corner. Scrunching your eyebrows, you turned your hand around. It didn’t get tangled and when you reached with your other hand to touch it, your hand just went through it. It took a moment for you to think of what it might’ve been. One of the red strings of fate? You assumed that was it. Maybe it lead you to a soul bro? You nodded to yourself, slightly skeptical. How else am I supposed to find them? You reasoned. A jingle came from your phone, making you turn your attention towards it. It booted, showing you the time from your original timezone before swiftly switching to what you presumed to be the current timezone. 8 A.M. That was about normal. Your ability usually meant you’d wake up at about that time no matter the timezone, maybe earlier or later depending on how severe the difference was. As you dismissed all the notifications (nothing important, at least for now), a sun graphic appeared on one side of your phone showing the number “78 F” and underneath the word “Toronto”.

Toronto, huh? It wasn’t too far from the Canadian-American border, if you remembered about the location. Near Lake Ontario? You slightly rose an eyebrow. Wasn’t Canada supposed to be cold? Maybe it just wasn’t this time of the year? Clearing your mind of the minor questions you had, you looked back up to where the string was pulling you. You supposed the best way to start was to follow that string somewhere until you could maybe come up with some sort of game plan. Or a money exchange or ATM. Maybe you’d try to go penniless the whole day? The grumble in your stomach disqualified that thought as quickly as it came. Maybe you’d look for breakfast first.

Getting up and dusting yourself off, you began to follow the string. I wonder how far away they are? You wondered as you turned the corner. Your attention drifted from the string and to your surroundings. The surroundings were quite urban, a block away in the direction the string was leading you were office-like buildings much taller than the other buildings. More life appeared on this street than the one you had woken up on. The corner that the string directed you to turn at was what appeared to be a restaurant, advertised by a large sign. It would likely be lit up, blinking, and flashing if it were dark. The rest of the block had a few stores, some more plain looking residential places. It was a pleasant city, similar to other cities you had been to when transporting place to place.

Your stomach twisted inside of you yet again, enough to make you wince a bit and look down at it with a glare. “Be quiet,” you scolded it. It growled back at you, as if refusing to be silenced. Sighing at its persistence, you looked back up at the restaurant. As far as you knew, you only had one day in Toronto to meet the person you were tied to. But you still had to eat, right?

That being said, you figured to stop in. Just before, you slipped off your jacket, tying it around your waist. One essential thing about transporting was wearing layers. You never know when you’ll need it.

Walking into the restaurant, you were surprised to see a fairly large amount of people. There were just as many enough that you even thought that they were full. Maybe I should just find another place, you thought. Arriving at that decision, you were just about to turn around and leave when a waiter had come up with a smile.

“Hello, just one?” Well it was too late now. Sure, you could simply explain that you had changed your mind and wanted to leave, but that would be awkward for your uncharismatic self to explain. ‘Hi, no, too many people here, I have anxiety haha.’ So you just caved in.

“Yes,” your voice cracked a little. Jesus Christ, you winced inwardly at yourself. This was going to be a long day.

“Is the bar alright?” Did people even have breakfast at the bar section? You were positive they didn’t, but looking quickly back at the crowded area, you guessed it was because of the capacity. Who even goes out to eat this early in the morning? you kept reminiscing, ever so slightly agitated.

“Yes,” you nodded, a bit quieter than the last time. Despite what you believed to be an awkward interaction, the waiter didn’t seem to care, grabbing a napkin wrapped snugly around some silverware and briefly telling you to follow them. You did so, rubbing your arms, surprised at how cold it was in the restaurant compared to the outside. The waiter sat you at the bar, handing you a menu and leaving you.

Legs hanging above the ground, you leaned your elbows on the bar counter, looking briefly at the menu. Becoming disinterested fairly quickly, you took a moment to look around. To your left was a woman, body completely turned away from you conversing with her partner. On your right was an empty seat and what you were somewhat convinced was the last one available in the whole restaurant. In front of you, obviously, was the bar, with various taps of beers, other liqueurs, and whiskies stacked on the shelves on the wall. In addition, there was a TV playing some sort of morning show program. Although you took awhile to watch it and the delayed subtitles, you couldn’t recognize it or anyone hosting it.

The menu was a typical breakfast diner’s menu. Omelettes, pancakes, toast, the usual. You became uninterested in it fairly quickly when your phone started to buzz with the sound of your face call ringtone. You should’ve guessed he would try to contact you. Looking around quickly to make sure no one would try to take your order or judge you for face chatting in public (?), you pulled your phone out of your pocket and answered it.

“Good morning,” you answered when Rowans far too close to the camera face loaded, only illuminated by the screen on the phone. It didn’t necessarily mean it was dark in your timezone, but he refused to use any other sort of light in his dark tent besides candles or lanterns. Electrical lighting “tampered with his work”, or at least that's what he insisted.

“So where are you?” he asked, becoming minimally aware of his ridiculous angle on the camera and tried to fix it a little. It didn’t do much anyways.

“Toronto,” you gave a bit of a forced smile. “But the heat makes me doubt that.”

“Ontario? Oh it's hot this time of year,” he said. “Remember my son, Jacob?”

“Yes, the author,” you did your best to quickly let him know you remembered him, lest he go on to tell you his life story from the moment he was born again. “He lives around here, right?”

“Yes, I’ve been up there a few times to see him,” he laughed a little. The glimpse of the man’s softer side helped you crack a smile. It was short as he went straight back to business. “Did you find them?”

“No,” you admitted, looking at the string. It was leading you out the entrance of the restaurant. “I needed breakfast first. I just got up.”

“You do realise you only have a day to complete your purpose?” Anxiety flooded through you, mostly in your arms that held the phone.

“Yes,” you sighed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s up to you if this ends up working or not,” he sipped some of his tea. Though you couldn’t see it, you heard it. Rowan made a subconscious effort to make a sound when he drank.

“I know,” you groaned. “I just don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this.” A short silence came after you, as Rowan set down his tea with a clink.

“I’ll tell you what,” he shifted himself in his seat and the camera. “This isn’t just some stranger whose life your trying to fix.” Except that’s exactly what this is, you rebutted in your head. “This is a soul you’ve been connected to since before either of you were born. The two of you have a connection. Every person you meet this next week or two is connected with you in some way. Fate predetermined that these people could have their lives changed forever by you or that your life would be changed forever by them. Fate is going to be doing all the work for you.” He was probably right. But considering how odd and confusing the situation was for you, you didn’t know if that helped much at all.

“Well,” you paused. “I should probably get the breakfast in me and get out there as soon as possible. Time waits for no one.”

“I wish you all the best of luck,” he told you in his naturally grandiose way. You told him a soft “bye” before you hung up, just at miraculously the same time that a waiter came to take your order from behind the bar.

“Hello, welcome to-” the waiter had begun telling you a customary greeting as you put your phone back in your pocket. He paused suddenly just as he had started, making you quickly look up at him to see what he was doing. He was looking over you, a smile quickly spread on his features as he spoke somewhat louder to somebody behind you.

“Well, I’ll be, it’s Dinosaurus Rex. I thought you were supposed to be gone for the summer like everyone else!” You supposed he saw a friend and you awkwardly looked away from him and back at your menu, like you were trying to memorize all of the pancake toppings. As much as you tried to not be any part of the conversation, you couldn’t help to at least overhear.

“Please stop calling me that, that’s not even a real dinosaur,” the voice that responded was somewhat quiet with a hint of annoyance. “And I thought I mentioned that I was staying for the summer.”

“I get ya, gotta work those loans off,” the waiter seemed to shiver. In that brief moment, after you became less interested in your perusing, your attention was caught by the string. It had definitely moved in the time that you had sat down to this moment. The fact that it was moving gave you an eerie, nervous feeling. Maybe you should’ve just skipped breakfast and went after them?

Your mangled feelings had then left just as urgently as they came, and your eyes shot back down at the string. As you held your breathe, the string rotated to your right, at a steady pace that seemed to match the sound of the footsteps as they passed behind you. You heard an airy sigh as in the corner of your eye, a silhouette appeared to hop on the bar stool next to you. After a moment of utter disbelief, you carefully tilted your sight from your ring finger to the person now next to you. Following the bright red string that only you could see, its path ended at his crossed arms. You caught sight of the end on the ring finger of his right hand, tucked beneath his left elbow.

The revelation paralyzed you and your gaze, unable to look away. Your mind realized that if you continued to gawk at him, you would raise suspicions and give off the worst first impression ever. But your body seemed to refuse to listen, as you took in everything about the first “soulbro” you had ever met.

The bottom layer of his dark brown hair was short. His top layer curled towards his face with a wave to it. He wore a somewhat oversized black graphic tee. His face was young and his eyes were sharp, but they had a small, kind droop to them that you could miss easily at a mere glance. As he continued his conversation that you had muted out, his smile shone not only on his lips but in his eyes.

The amount of time that past with you looking at the boy become well over uncomfortable when you attempted to get your wits together just in time for you to look back at the waiter, looking back at you. Panicking, you supposed he had come back to you for your order.

“Oh, uh, eggs, sunnyside up, and bacon. And an orange juice.” You looked away quickly, but back at the waiter again briefly when you swear he was giving you a look drowning in suspicion. With a modest amount of shame, you looked down again, menu extended and lips pursed. You were too embarrassed to look up again as he took the menu, saying the typical ��i’ll be right back with your drink blablabla”.

“I’ll have the usual,” your soul bro told him casually after you placed your order.

The waiter left, leaving you completely stiff and nervous, the prescence of the person next to you making you incredibly uneasy. In attempt to calm yourself, you exhaled. Okay. Calm down. Like Rowan said, everything is going to be fine. There’s a reason this guy’s connected to me. I can do it. Just make small talk, get to know him. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? As your nerves returned to a healthy level, you shyly looked at him again. It appeared he still wasn’t paying much attention to you, currently you were just a person he happened to be sitting next to in a crowded restaurant. You thought of what to do, trying to think of anything casual to discuss. What did Canadians talk about?

Without any critical thinking from you whatsoever, you turned your torso towards him as you asked him:

“Hey, did you see the hockey game last night? Pretty intense, right?”

IMBECILE. COMPLETE MORON. YOU FUCKING SOUP CAN. your brain called you names as you realized how stupid you just sounded. You had successfully concocted the lie that you watched hockey while simultaneously just assuming the now bewildered looking boy watched hockey because, oh, we’re in Canada.

He did a double-take, completely taken aback. He hadn’t realized at first that you were talking to him. Or he did, but he just took a moment to actually process the weird and confusing moment. “Uh, What?” was all he could respond with. Understandably. Petrification hit you yet again, causing your gaze to fumble around and words and thoughts jumble into a complete mess as stutters were all your mouth could formulate.

A laugh sounded from him afterwards, stopping the mess you were experiencing as you looked at him again. It wasn’t like a small “ha” or “hahaha?” laugh, he was cracking up. Maybe you should’ve felt bad like “oh, he’s laughing at me im such an idiot”, but it somehow didn’t feel like he was shaming or embarrassing you at all. As he gradually recovered to form sentences, he wiped his eyes and looked at you with a quirked brow.

“Your visiting, right?”

“Uhm, ah, yes,” you almost mumbled.

“Well, first, welcome to Canada, and second, hockey season doesn’t start until the fall,” he informed you gently. You gave a small “oh” sound, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

“Where are you from?” he asked curiously, still smiling kindly. You told him where, which he hummed to in understanding. A very brief silence loomed over, causing the panic to set back in your body. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh, maybe a couple,” you paused, almost quickly about to say that for all you knew, you had only been there for at the most an hour. “Late last night, I haven’t gotten the chance to do anything here yet.”

Well if you couldn’t get any more suspicious than asking someone seemingly Canadian if they had seen the nonexistent hockey game the other night, you had just changed your answer for how long you had been in the country mid-sentence. If this guy was an immigration officer, you’d be fucked.

He at least pretended that he didn’t seem to mind and nodded. You tried to ease into a conversation again by looking over your shoulder at the crowded seating.

“Is it always this busy at 8 in the morning?”

“No,” somebody else answered. You looked back across the bar to see the waiter, setting down your iced orange juice, with an orange wedge squeezed onto the rim of the glass and a little hot pink umbrella. He then put glass of an iced dark drink which you presumed to be coffee, black, towards your “friend”. “We got a U.S. tour group stop by for breakfast this morning. Could’ve warned us about it, but they just came out of nowhere.”

“I was about to ask, its way too crowded for this time in the day,” the soulbro nodded. He looked back at you and quickly arched his brows and “oh”ed before uncomfortably putting his arms in front of him in a shy/defensive gesture.

“Excuse me, my name is Chan Lee. I forgot to introduce myself.” You swiftly told him it was okay and introduced yourself next.

“And I’m Jack. Just call that guy Dino.”

“That’s not my name,” you watched Chan roll his eyes.

“Sure it is! You look like a dinosaur, so why not?”

“I don’t look like a dinosaur, Jack.”

“You’re not gonna admit that if you squint really really hard, you kind of look like one?”

“Jack, Table 10’s order is ready!”

“Shouldn’t you be going now?”

As he hurriedly left, he yelled back, “THIS ISN’T OVER!”

The interaction made you laugh, turning Chan’s attention back towards you. You both took sips of your drinks as the conversation steadily became more casual.

“So… Dino?” you started back up. He groaned.

“Just a name my friends call me. It’s not my favorite.”

“Well…” you squinted at him a bit. You saw it.

“Yeah, just forget it,” he waved it off, with a skeptical face. Your grin widened and a laugh left you.

Taking a sip of your orange juice, you felt a shiver run through you. It was hot outside, but that seemed to instantly mean intense cooling inside as always. As you set your glass down, you looked back at Chan. “I thought Canada was supposed to be cold.”

“It is, in the winter. Summer gets pretty hot in Toronto though,” he explained between sips of his own drink. You nodded, Toronto wasn’t incredibly North.

As the small talk continued, you were surprised by how easy it was to get to know him. It turned out Rowan was right after all. This wasn’t incredibly difficult. But even though it wasn’t hard to converse, you still couldn’t place exactly what you were supposed to be doing to help the guy out. You knew one of the people you were going to meet would be your soulmate, as much as that terrified you. But you couldn’t just assume everyone was going to be the “one” or whatever. You figured you had to dig deeper. But that was going to be tough, or at least you thought. How were you supposed to potentially change somebody’s life in one day?

“So, what do you do?” you asked. You were almost surprised by your own “boldness”. Well, bold for you.

“Hmm?” he seemed to momentarily leave and enter back in the discussion, setting down his coffee. “Oh, I’m a student in medicine at University of Toronto.” You nodded.

“Medicine, eh? What do you want to be?”

He chuckled hesitantly, seeming somewhat fake. Oh?

“Yeah, I don’t really know yet.” Oh. That’s when you thought: Maybe he’s one of those students that don’t actually know/like what they’re studying? Medicine seemed like one of those fields where students would enter to satisfy some sort of familial standard. Not necessarily because they themselves wanted it. You hesitated as you stirred your juice with your straw. Should you ask?

“Your orders!” the waiter, Jack, slipped from behind the bar with both your orders. Even though you hadn’t come together. He slid your platter towards you and then Chan’s. Your glimpse at his food showed you a stack of pancakes doused in cream and strawberries. Nice.

Naturally, the conversation was interrupted as you had now received your food, conversation becoming relatively minimal. Thankfully, after he finished his meal first with you close behind, the conversation stayed.

“Any plans for what your doing while your here?”

“Ahh,” you paused. Maybe this was your chance to spend the rest of the day with him? But how to do so without coming on too strong and scaring him away? ‘Lmao, you’ ‘How bout YOU show me the town tonight, big boy ;)))’ ‘Greetings soulmate, allow me to follow you for the day and reveal your deepest, darkest emotions so I may heal you’ ‘I have come from afar to change your life’.

“... nothing?” before you realised it, you were taking way too long to think of an excuse and Chan had caught on to your speechlessness.

“...no, haha?” you smiled nervously. Your smile must have been contagious, as he then reflected it.

“Well, some people like to go down to the TU campus-”

“Are you here alone, though?” Jack had leaned against the bar from the other side, more liberated to socialize now that the tour group he complained about earlier had left.

“Yeah, just me!” you nodded towards him.

“That’s no fun,” he groaned. He beamed up and leaned over the bar, towards you. “Want me to show ya around?!”

With all due respect to Jack, you had shit to do. Specifically with Chan. You tried keeping a straight face while you looked away, pretending to consider the premise. Before you could gently turn down the offer, you looked over at Chan as he spoke up.

“I thought you said you were busy today?” he seemed annoyed.

“When did I say that?”

“When I asked if you wanted to hang out today last night,” Jack had a face that seemed like he was searching his brain for answers when he “oohhhh”ed.

“I forgot,” he seemed distraught and mildly upset. “I’m covering Wendy’s shift today while she’s at her friend’s wedding…”

You gave a small laugh, “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he groaned. “Sightseeing by yourself is, like, boring as fuck.”

“Some people, believe it or not, like having that kind of time to themselves,” Chan defended.

“Blah, blah, that’s bullshit,” Jack argued back, almost like a toddler. He then gasped and yelled, “YOU CAN SHOW HER AROUND!”

“JACK,” he simply stated.

“C’mon! Don’t you want a real local to show you around?” the question was directed at you. Chan also hesitantly looked at you, awaiting a response.

“Uhhh, I mean,” you hesitated. “It sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to impose on anyone-”

“Meh, Chan had nothing to do today, anyways,” he shrugged. “It’s not a problem, right?” He directed his question towards Chan.

You shyly looked at him, when he met your gaze he quickly looked away, flustered and struggling to find his words. “Uhm, well no-”

“PERFECT!” he hopped over the bar counter (who the fuck was this dude) and pulled you both up from your seats by your arms. “Chan’s been needing a date.”

“A d-date?”

“Now, GO HAVE FUN,” he dragged you out towards the entrance and pushed you both out the restaurant.

Did you just get kicked out?

Now it was just the two of you, awkwardly standing on the sidewalk at the entrance to the restaurant, standing by the side to not impede pedestrian traffic. A brief silence filled with awkwardness, confusion, and tension swept over as you looked at him in confusion.

“We didn’t even pay?”

“Y-yeah,” he scratched his head, looking back inside. “Well, it’s coming out of his check.”

“Ah…” you awkwardly pulled at the bottom of your shirt.

“Yeah, so…” he rubbed his hands together. “I’m so sorry, about all of this. Jack is… unusual. He means well, though. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your stay here, so you totally don’t have to do what he says, I can give you a few places to go, tips, recommendations for food, photo ops-”

You breathed deeply as you watched him talk. His looks were nothing to sneeze at, and him rambling on made you tune out as it only drew you more towards his face. He made eye contact, making you flinch, unnoticeably perhaps as he just looked away and kept talking. As much as you tried to not think about what Rowan said about the soulmate, you couldn’t help but at least wonder. Well, it was more like daydreaming.

Before you could finish admiring him and tune back into what he was telling you, you found his mouth stop moving and his face look towards you, waiting for interaction on your part.

“Oh, uhm, ah,” you not so charismatically brainstormed to find the words you were looking for. “Actually, I was… uhm…” You folded your arms across in front of you in an instinctively defensive manner. “I would appreciate being shown Toronto by a local, kind of like what Jack said. That is, if you actually wanted to, I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do, after all-”

“Okay, I can do that.” You stopped dead in your sentence when he said that, trying to suppress the light fluttery feeling of happiness that welled up inside of you. You smiled wide, only slightly embarrassed by your probably red cheeks.

“Really? Oh, thank you so much-”

“Don’t mention it,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Besides, I think we get along pretty well, anyways.”

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

To start, he took you down to University of Toronto’s campus where you could see a few people, young and old, laid out on blankets. Some were having picnics, some were just enjoying the day, all in the shade. The temperature had gotten higher from when you first woke up, to a point that you couldn’t ignore it.

Nervously, Chan asked if you would like your picture taken there, which you said yes to. You posed cutely along a tree for a short few minutes, before the heat began to set and he proposed going to cool down in the visitor’s centre. As you did so, you thought to bring up the topic of what he was majoring in.

“Medicine, huh?”

“Hmm?” he set down his can of coke that he got from the vending machine. “Oh, yeah.”

“Do you… like it?” he didn’t make any eye contact as he just sat staring at the can, tracing the rim with his finger.

“Can’t say,” he said. “It’s not the worst thing, I don’t hate it. I think the idea is cool, and the stuff I’m learning isn’t all that bad, but…” he took a deep breath. “I have no idea of telling if this is what I was meant to do.”

Silence overtook the both of you for awhile. You definitely understood. You didn’t know what you were going to graduate with a degree in when you first went to college, either. That part of your life was so hard, you remembered. Leaving home, living by yourself, starting your journey to the rest of your life. It was terrifying. It was lonely. No matter the amount of support you got, you still didn’t have what you thought you needed. Someone, something, anything to tell you what to do.

Afterwards, he decided to take you to the Toronto sign with the fountain. You took the trolleys, falling in love with the idea at first and soon realizing it was still public transport and wasn’t some Cinderella carriage. It was pretty busy to, the two of you were packed in, and while the AC was doing its best to keep up, it just wasn’t made to withstand the heat. It was up to about 96 degrees, you overheard some other people saying who were complaining about it.

“It’s so freaking hot,” he groaned as he shook his shirt, trying to create some sort of flowing air. “You came on a pretty bad day. I mean, it’s not Canada day, but still.”

“Yeah, the heat is killing me,” you laughed, fanning yourself. “At least I got to meet you, though!” You stated a little too enthusiastically. You could’ve sworn the person you were standing over looked up at the two of you, as if watching some sort of drama or crime taking place.

Nonetheless, Chan became shy again, scratching his hair a little as he smiled and awkwardly looked out a window. As he did, his eyes shot open as he then stated “crap” and grabbed your hand as he pulled you off the trolley at the stop that the trolley was just about to leave. Once you both were out of danger of being crushed by the doors, he instantly spurted out a bunch of apologies, which you needed to quelm.

He calmed down, and after he let go of your hand in a silly, flustered way, you headed to the fountain. Along the way, you stopped and asked if you could get some ice cream, to which he happily obliged. Hopping into a sweets shop for a moment, you both got your respective favorite flavors in cones. You paid, after much arguing on both of you insisting you would cover it, Chan threw in the towel after witnessing your aggressive assertiveness to pay.

“I’ll just have to pay next time!” he ended with, handing you your cone after holding them while you fumbled with your bag, which still seemed suspiciously prepared for whatever you could need. You smiled a little, almost solemnly. You thought about staying in contact, but you remembered the reason you were there with him in the first place. To fulfill some sort of purpose you were meant to do with him, and go on to the next one. This day was technically supposed to be the only one where you would spend time with him at all. It’s not like you could come to Toronto, or wherever your “soul bros” were whenever you felt like it. You had a busy job that worked you as hard as it could within the legal (though you had your doubts at times) limits.

You made it to the sign, and it was crowded. And hot again. The ice cream helped minimally, and you could hardly stand the heat. The photo op was ruined quite a few times by kids who were climbing around the sign, but you did manage to get a nice picture with the second ‘T’. Someone offered to take a picture of the two of you, which Chan hesitantly complied to. You understood nearly instantly why, as the minute he stood by you, you realized how weird it was going to look. In a brave attempt to prevent the weird picture you came closer and wrapped an arm around him, posing with a peace sign. You didn’t catch his reaction, smiling at the person who was taking your picture with Chan’s phone. You heard the faint shutter click over the noise of a thousand demons (commonly known as children), as the stranger then put down the phone and came up to Chan and gave him his phone back. You said thank you, followed by a hurried one from Chan, who seemed flustered. You turned to look at him, seeing his face was flushed, maybe just due to the heat, but the rush of heat that you felt the second you came in contact made you think otherwise.

“You guys make a nice couple!” the stranger complimented with a genuine smile before he left. Oh, boy.

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as you tried to peak at the photo. You saw yourself smiling, fairly brightly, while leaning on a surprised Chan who was looking at you as opposed to the camera. The ‘T’ was practically illegible, as well.

“I blame the photographic technique,” you playfully patted his shoulder. He chuckled, and then groaned.

“I suck at posing for pictures,” he stated. “I think I have one good selfie I’ve ever taken. I had weird hair then, too.”

“Let’s take a better one, then!” you suggested.

“I’d rather be done with my complimentary sweat soak first.”

“Good point,” you giggled. “Any plans on what to do?”

“Hmm,” he seemed to think, though only for a brief second. “We could go to the aquarium. I’ve never been and I’d think it’s air conditioned.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Oh, it was a plan. Maybe not one where you weighed the pros and cons of, but a plan. Everything was fine until you got there. It appeared as if everyone else in the city had the same plan as you did. The line for tickets was enormous, and the aquarium itself was packed.

You stayed regardless, at least it was cool. You started by walking through some more isolated halls with fish tanks. All sorts of colorful fish from yellow, blue, and red swam aside you, back and forth. You’d point out a fish you thought looked nice every once in awhile, or one that was doing something funny.

Chan tried to take some pictures of the fish, to which he voiced some disappointment of because the glass hindered it. As you went further in, more kids started showing up and running around, bumping into the two of you. As minimally irritating as it was, at one point a little girl came running full speed and crashed into Chan. She fell down, and he had suddenly pushed into you a bit.

Before you could understand that was what happened yourself, Chan crouched down and asked if she was okay. You watched them as the girl got up and looked down at a scratch she got.

“I think I hurt my knee,” the girl spoke shyly.

“Uh oh, do you want to get a band aid for it?” he asked gently. She nodded silently. You smiled at how he handled the situation with care. Several college students would be angry as all hell if a kid ran into them. You commended his patience.

“I think I have one with me,” you kneeled down to the girl and started searching your backpack. You pulled out one and took the packaging off, applying it as she let you.

“Thank you!” she beamed. She turned to run off again but paused, turning around and waving. You both waved back before getting back up on your feet.

“I see you, Doctor Lee. You’d nail the pediatrician vibe if you went that way,” you mildly teased him. He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I guess that would be cool.” You hesitated a moment before you began walking further into the aquarium.

“I don’t know if my career is what I’m meant to do, either.”

He looked at you quickly enough for you to feel a minitare draft hit your face. You continued.

“Working is hard, no matter what your doing. My mother always told me to never pick your favorite hobby as your career. Then that hobby becomes your job. And I think there is some truth to that…” you stopped at a dimly lit jellyfish tank and stared at the purple tentacles.

“But I also don’t see the problem with loving your job. Yes, it becomes a job, but doesn’t that just make you love it all the more?” You took a long pause, sneaking a glance at Chan. He was staring at the tank, as if thinking about your words.

“Even if your job isn’t your favorite, why can’t you learn to love it anyway? Someone’s gotta do it. Your role matters. Medicine is so important in that regards. You get to make people’s lives better, longer, and less painful. You can give them the chance to find the meaning that we are all searching for in our little lives. Maybe some people feel that sense of what they’re meant to do. And maybe some need more time to figure that out.”

Your monologue finished, leaving you two in the silence of the one place in the aquarium that wasn’t loud and bombarded with people. For awhile you both stood there, just staring at the slow movements the jellyfish made. Something about the moment made you feel that you had done what you came to do.

“... Thanks,” Chan broke the silence. You smiled and looked over at him.

“It’s no problem.”

After the aquarium, you realized how late it was. The evening produced the wash of orange and yellow that was starting to light up all the street lamps. It only seemed to encourage younger people out to enjoy the night on the town. Traffic seemed worse and more people were out on the streets.

“Hey, (y/n),” Chan initiated as you slowly walked down the street together. “Today was lots of fun. Seriously. I really enjoyed it.”

“Hey, I did too!” you replied.

“I just wanted to say thanks. I thought I was gonna stay in all day and do nothing but this was so much better than that. Like, I don’t wanna be cheesy or anything, I feel like we were almost meant to meet in that stupid diner.” You chuckled to yourself. If only he knew.

“I get it, I felt the same way.”

You kept walking together like that until you came to a park and decided to sit. The two of you kept talking and talking until somehow, in your exhaustion, you managed to fall dead asleep on his shoulder. Though you didn’t notice, Chan surely did as his cheeks grew red and his lips curled into a smile, looking back up at the painted sky.

#reader-insert #chan x reader #chanxreader #dinoxreader #dino x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagines #dino imagine #chan imagine #chan lee #dino

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tibbinswrites · 5 years ago

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can i ask for a prompt 10 + destiel? :) hope it's a good one to write to!

Hi there Nonnie! Sorry it’s taken me SO LONG, I’ve been working on it since you sent me this, honest! You did pick a very good one. It was supposed to be funny, but then I made it a little angsty because hey, I’m me and I gotta ;)

I hope you like it :D

(prompts are open. Send me a number between 1 and 635 and I’ll write a thing for you)

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #10, #78, #170 and #502 but all the others are fair game :D

Prompt #10. “I don’t want your pity, I want your absence.”

“Ugh,” Cas groaned. His voice was somewhat muffled by the wood of the table but it was still more than enough to make Dean jump out of his skin as he flipped on the kitchen light.

“Jesus! What the hell, Cas, did you sleep here?”

“Angels don’t sleep,” Cas insisted, peeling his face from the table just to glare, then he seemed to run out of energy and thunked it back down again. “I did, however, go through several short periods of unconsciousness.”

Dean chuckled and moved forward to start cleaning away the bottles from their impromptu ‘Jack is back’ party.

“Overdid it, huh? Guess it doesn’t quite take a liquor store these days.” He kept the teasing light as he placed each bottle into the trash with the minimum amount of clinking that he could. He was actually in a good mood, which was rare for him in the mornings and even rarer before his first cup of coffee, although he was pretty sure he’d drunk about the same amount that Cas had, he wasn’t feeling any of the ill effects. Well there was something to be said for his crazy high tolerence level.

“Why do humans ingest poison as means of celebration?” Cas mumbled into the table as Dean switched the coffee machine on, the burble apparently rousing Cas from his fugue state between sentences.

“Why did you?” Dean shot back, amused.

“Because I was unaware of the severity of the consequences,” Cas huffed, very much not amused.

“Aww, your first ever hangover. I’m so proud.” He wiped away an imaginary tear. Cas grumbled something that he couldn’t make out. Grinning, Dean fished out two mugs from under the sink and proceeded to fill them both with steaming, caffeinated sludge, strong enough to bend a teaspoon and exactly what Cas needed.

“I don’t know what you just said but I’m pretty sure it was rude. And here I was feelin’ sorry for you.”

“I don’t want your pity, I want your absence.”

Dean let out a loud gasp and clutched dramatically at his chest. “That hurts, Cas,” he said. “I guess you won’t be wanting any coffee then.”

Cas made a sound then that was as mournful as it was angry, like he was pissed at Dean that he’d ruined his own chance to get a nice thing. Fortunately for him, Dean was enjoying this too much to leave Cas to stew in his hangover. He set a mug in front of the angel and sat down opposite, sipping from his own and watching as the smell hit Cas’ nose and it twitched like a rabbit’s. Cas’ head slowly rose and then one forearm draped around the mug to pull it closer while his mouth fastened over the lip of it, slurping down whatever he could without actually tilting the container.

Delighted with this entire turn of events (that he wished he’d brought his phone into the kitchen to film), Dean sat quietly, taking small sips from his own mug and watching Cas transform from hibernating bear to bleary humanoid in a few short minutes.

“You don’t have to look so pleased,” Cas groused when he’d levelled up to actually being able to hold the mug. “This means my powers are getting weaker. This shouldn’t affect me.”

Dean shrugged, though Cas’ point did pluck at something uncomfortable in his gut. “It is what it is. It’s actually good to have an indicator of what you can still do and what you can’t.”

Cas bristled, “I assure you, I am perfectly capable—”

“Not saying you’re not,” Dean interrupted, holding up a placating hand. “You’re plenty capable with or without your mojo. I’m just saying, it’s good to know your limits.”

“Processing alcohol quickly shouldn’t be a limit, it should be an innate biological response that comes with being an angel.” Cas insisted, and despite his outward irritation, the way his shoulders hunched over the mug told Dean that he was more vulnerable than angry.

“Look, I know it’s an adjustment. But maybe you should figure out what other things have changed too. While we’re waiting for shit to go down you’re probably as safe as you can get. It’s better to figure it out now so that later you’ll know what you need to work around rather than trying to do something in the moment and realising you can’t. That hesitation’ll get you killed.”

“I know that healing is becoming more difficult.” Cas said into his coffee. Then he looked up at Dean with eyes full of fear. “I keep thinking, what if you get hurt? What if you get hurt and you’re dying and I can’t help you?”

Dean sighed heavily and set down his mug to reach across the table and take one of Cas’ hands in his own. “What if you get hurt and you’re dying and you can’t help yourself?” Dean said quietly. “It could happen, Cas. It has happened. Hell, I’ve had nightmares about it. But that worry, caring about people, wanting to save them even when you can’t… buddy that’s just part of being human.”

“But I’m not human.”

“Yes you are.” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ hand in both of his own, marvelling that Cas was letting him, that he wasn’t pulling his hand away with disgust in his eyes. “In all the ways that matter, you’re more human than any of us. And y’know, maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.”

Cas just stared at him, wonder creeping into his expression. “No,” he said. And then he smiled down at their clasped hands. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing at all.”

#spn fanfic #prompts #prompt #prompt me #TibbinsWrites #TibbinsAnswers #supernatural #Destiel

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dorthyanndrarry · 5 years ago

Text

Bitter Transmutation : Cruel Transformation -1-

tags: eighth year, drarry, angst, assault, bullying, violence, illness, discussion of illness’, discussion of gov response to illness, sickfic, enemies to lovers, harry with long hair, magic theory, veela history/world building, veela draco, book veelas, fairy tale inspirations, -no feathers-, -no mates/bonding-, Fenrir Greyback, werewolves, hurt/comfort, romantic tension, emotional and romantic intimacy, slow burn, pining, longing, happy ending, animal injury, reference to animal death, ptsd, transformation, possible body horror, parents having the best intentions whilst still being flawed human beings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

suggested rating: 18+, for heavy themes and violence

Bitter Transmutation : Cruel Transformation on A03

Bitter Transmutation : Cruel Transformation on wattpad

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31- 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48 - 49 - 50 - 51 - 52 - 53 - 54 - 55 - 56 - 57 - 58 - 59 - 60 - 61 - 62 - 63 - 64 - 65 - 66 - 67 - 68 - 69 - 70 - 71 - 72 - 73 - 74 - 75 - 76 - 77 - 78 - 79 - Complete!

His skin was too hot. Too tight.

Draco brushed his hair back, blinking his eyes, trying to get them to focus. His heart raced, and shivers racked through his muscles, leaving him breathless. He stumbled to his feet and headed to the hospital wing.

“Well, Mr Malfoy, you are warm, perhaps you've caught a fever,” Madam Pomfrey said, walking over to her potions stores.

Vials clinked as she pulled open the doors and took out two potions, bringing them back and pressing them into Draco’s hand. “A pepper-up and a fever-reducer, a sip from both should have you feeling better. Take what you need, come back if you need more or it gets worse.”

Draco opened each vial and swallowed a third of each potion, offering a quiet thanks. The thrumming heat ebbed, slightly. Draco left the hospital wing and went back to his room, curled up on his bed and tried to sleep.

Draco woke in darkness with a grimace, kicking off the blankets tangled around his legs. Too hot. Heat crawled across his skin in prickling, unbearable waves, his muscles twitched with every stilted breath. The fine silk of his pyjamas clung to his skin, tacky with sweat.

He cast a feeble lumos, leaning off the side of his bed to grab his robes where he had dropped them, scrabbling in the folds until his fingers closed around cold glass. He unstopped the potion vials, drinking the rest of one, then the other and dropping back onto his pillow with a shudder.

Draco closed his eyes, dropping into a hazy half-sleep.

He dreamt of his skin tightening until he couldn't breathe and it ripped from his bones while he screamed.

Draco opened his eyes and squeezed them shut with a groan as the faint light sneaking through curtains hit them. He tried to stretch and froze with a hiss of pain as every muscle seemed to painfully protest at the movement, it even hurt to breathe. He shifted uncomfortably as his skin prickled and itched like a half-healed sunburn.

Draco eased himself out of bed, nearly falling on the discarded clothes still strewn across the floor. He gingerly made his way to his private bathroom and splashed water on his face after with a shudder. Draco drank a glass of water, and another, pressing the back of his hand over his mouth as he stumbled back to bed. He grabbed a blanket and clutched it to his chest in a crumpled ball.

He slept again.

Draco blinked blearily, only half aware he was awake or what had woke him. There was a knock on his door that turned into the door opening. Draco frantically felt around his sheets for his wand, finding it stuffed halfway under his pillow, and wrenched it out as he forced himself up onto his elbow.

“Ah, Mr Malfoy!” Slughorn said with forced joviality as he stepped inside, “There you are! You'd missed a day of classes, and Minerva pointed out it was quite out of character for you.”

Draco dropped his wand and shoulders back onto his pillow.

“Sick, then? That would explain it,” Slughorn said.

Draco nodded. He swallowed, his throat so dry it hurt.

Slughorn rocked back on his heels, straightening his robe like someone who had to be on their way, “Will you be needing help? Or perhaps just some more rest? Rest is the best medicine as they say.”

Draco didn't have the energy to even glare at the fool. He needed to go back to the infirmary, he knew that, but asking Slughorn for help was- he still had some pride.

“Rest,” Draco said faintly.

“Excellent! Well, get well soon, lad.” Slughorn took a quick step out the door, nearly pulling it closed before bursting back in. He sidled over to the side of Draco's bed, conjured a glass and filled it with an aguamenti. “I'll have the house elves check up on you this evening,” he said, a touch of anxiety in his words, and then finally made his exit, slamming the door behind himself in his haste.

Draco pushed himself but up on his elbow and carefully sipped the water. It tasted stale. Draco's mouth curled in disgust. He squeezed his eyes shut and drank it anyway.

No one came to check up on him.

Draco pulled himself up with the corner of his bedpost and leaned there for a moment to catch his breath. His robes felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, but he pulled them tight around himself to hide the pyjamas underneath, holding his wand in his other hand even though he wouldn’t be able to even the simplest spell with it.

His vision swam, and a shivery little prickle slipped down his spine with every wobbly step. He hadn’t even made it halfway when he had let go of his robes to put a steadying hand against the wall. His breathing was embarrassingly loud in his own ears, his heart thrumming in his ears to match. The cold walls were a balm against his palm, and he paused to lean against it, resting his forehead against the stones and trying to ignore the growing itch between his shoulder blades.

Fingers dug into his shoulder, wrenching him around and nearly pulling him off his feet. Draco grabbed at the person's arm in a blind panic, his wand clattering across the floor. His back met the wall with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs.

“Look who we have here.”

Draco followed the arm up to the owner of the voice, a familiar voice. It was a fifth-year boy, big for his age, his little sister had died in a deatheater raid during the war. He wasn't alone, he had a greasy little friend crowding in at his side.

The hand squeezed his shoulder, bruising the already aching muscles.

Whatever breath was left in Draco was gone in a gasp of pain that rattled in his chest and came out as a whimper.

“Aww, the little deatheater's sick. Why don't you have your daddy call a healer for you?” Greasy mocked, “Oh, that's right, you can't because he abandoned you.”

The hand on his shoulder pulled him off the wall and slammed him back against the wall. Fifth-year wasn't in the mood for mocking, he never was. “Another one was bitten,” Fifth-year said darkly, “because of that feral fucking dog you let live in your house.”

Draco slid, his legs giving out, his hands clutching Fifth-year's arm shaking uncontrollably.

“Greyback should've eaten you,” Greasy said, “you'd be more use as dog shite.”

Fifth-year grabbed Draco's other arm, wrenching it up above his head.

Draco panted through the pain, his vision dimming at the edges.

“Monster,” Fifth-year hissed. He shifted his grip to Draco's wrist and twisted it.

Pain shot through Draco's wrist and elbow and he cried out hoarsely.

“Monster,” Fifth-year hissed again.

“Hey! Hey! What do you think you're doing?!”

(continued in the next part)

♡ Next update will be thursday, 12-6 pm pst ♡

♡ Tags below ♡ (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous part.)

♡ @cportera ♡ @lilyinthebreeze ♡ @catnip411 ♡ @crystalinger ♡ @you-wrote-a-bad-song-petey ♡ @dewitty1 ♡ @bittersweetmalter ♡ @love-bookswillbetheendofme ♡

♡ @hufflebeeluna ♡ @amerritts-wip ♡ @bowtiesandbowtruckles ♡ @eaasysarcasm ♡ @littleafrodita ♡ @mystifyingtakeoff ♡ @potter-harreh ♡ @unicornsandphoenix ♡ @ivyyswitchery ♡ @sugaredsundrop ♡ @idareyoutotakealook ♡ @mindless-cryptid ♡ @rose-grangerweasleyisbae ♡ @27-pens-i-use ♡ @princessofweirdos ♡

sort of playing with a different sort of formatting for this story, I just hope I can keep using it and don’t get bored and drop it halfway through the story

#dorthyannwrites #BTCT #drarry fanfiction #drarry #drarry fic #tw bullying #tw assault #illness #sickness

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