"I'm willing to let go and trust myself."

BRIGHTWELL. A03: WhumpTown. She/Her but just throw anything at me, I'll answer. I take recs, they make me feel loved. Whump whore to the max. Reads a lot of true crime textbooks

[breannacasey]

The fact that a bunch of police officers see Malcolm asleep on his desk and just put on body armor is hilarious to me

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Just want to say I love I’ll Follow You Into the Dark. It’s such a great balance of hurt and softness. If you ever choose to write something else in that universe I’d love to read it!

I think about that story a lot and I will probably end up posting another chapter but inspiration strikes me at the oddest of times and it can be pretty unpredictable 

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

College AU

warning: mentions an eating disorder but no one has one, smoking, language

Junior year of college is a different kind of challenge. By the end of the month, he needs to have a summer internship procured. His father keeps calling him and his mother has texted him every morning for a month to remind him to take his medicine. She just overreacts when he misses a day every now and again. Not that forgetting to take very important medicine is okay but he’d suffered for those mistakes. He knows better than to do it on purpose.

Besides, he’s fine.

“I’ll be right back,” Malcolm promises his roommate. Jack is a very patient and forgiving man but those are traits one does acquire as the oldest of six siblings. It does sometimes mean that Jack can get a little maternal and Malcolm finds it both endearing and aggravating. 

To his surprise, Malcolm finds his rooftop hideout occupied. “You shouldn’t smoke,” he tells the silhouette. He can see the lit affliction between two long fingers. “It’s bad for your lungs,” he adds, stupidly. He’s never been good at making friends, Jack would probably point out that it’s because Malcolm sucks at small talk.

The smoker turns around and reveals a slender nose, defined cheekbones, and breasts. The way she twists on the edge of the roof pulls her shirt taut across her chest. She looks him down and turns back to her previous view. “You shouldn’t starve yourself,” she counters. She throws the blow nonchalantly over her shoulder. Not even bothering with him enough to look him in the eyes. “Don’t lecture me on smoking unless you’re interested in hearing about malnutrition, hypocrite.”

It stings. He’s the serial killer kid on campus, not the serial killer’s kid. Everywhere he walks, there’s an air of trepidation. The fear that someone might say something and set him off. But no one has ever taken a blow at him. At something, he can actually control. He’d know what to say if she threw his father in his face. 

His weight is something he’s struggled with for a very long time. It’s daunting. “Hey,” his voice croaks and his cheeks flush at the way he betrays his emotions so clearly. “What’s your problem?”

She chuckles darkly, back still turned. “Nothing,” comes in a plume of smoke reaching up high above her head. “Not, at least, until you showed up.”

Malcolm looks back at the door and then to the ledge she’s sitting on. He just wanted to eat his Twizzlers in peace and now, when the world has thrown at him an opportunity to make a friend, he’s spit in its face. Moron. “Listen,” he trips on his shoelaces and finds himself on his hands and knees. He picks his hands up, their shaking worse now than before. Blood is already pooling up at his palms. 

“A clutz and a hypocrite,” but at least this time she doesn’t sound so menacing. 

He stands, knees shaking beneath him. He’s all too familiar with the feeling of weak, shaking eating up his body. It’s been too long between meals and now he’s either going to pass out while the pretty smoking girl watches or he’s going to have to eat the Twizzlers in front of her.

Drawing in a steady breath, he takes another step towards her. This time he doesn’t fall. “I’m sorry,” he says to her back. “Forgive me?” Coming up to her side, he offers her his hand.

She looks at his hand, bleeding and dirty and then at him. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he was born. “Dani,” she accepts his handshake. “And you’re Malcolm Whitley,  right? I’ve seen you around.” She draws her elbows in as he throws a leg over the edge, sitting himself down right beside her.

He pulls a bag of Twizzlers from his pocket. Compulsively, he bites the ends of them off first. He takes great measures to bite off the exact pieces of Twizzler. Once he’s bitten both ends he addresses her question. “Yeah.” He smiles as he remembers a great conversation starter is something relatable so he asks, “what’s your major? I’m psychology.”

Her eyebrow twitches but she answers, “criminal justice.” 

Dani looks at the Twizzler in his hand, the way he seems to only take the smallest bites off. “So,” she pulls from the cigarette slowly. “You have an eating disorder? My roommate’s sister does. She had to drop out because of it.” She flicks the rest of the cigarette over the edge, leaning forward to watch it drop. 

His anxiety skyrockets watching her lean over. A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest and he runs a hand over his face self-consciously. “Uh, no.” He rubs at the back of neck as his face heats up. "I don't-I don't have an eating disorder."

It’s Dani’s turn to blush. Right, her and big ass mouth. “Fuck,” she mumbles, seeing just enough of his reaction to really feel guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m in a really bad and -” she has no idea what to say. What little that she knows of Malcolm White is wrapped up in his father. Everyone in the building feels pretty unanimously the same way: he’s someone to avoid at all costs.

“It’s okay,” he brushes it off. Jack is his only friend, the only person who knows anything about him. Everyone else is just afraid of him but no one's bothered to know him. "I'm on some-" he glances at her, wondering just how carefully he needs to pick his next words. "I'm on heavy medications. I've got anxiety and-and post-traumatic stress."

He watched her hands. She's pulled them into her lap, picking the dark fingernail polish off. "Oh."

Malcolm digs another Twizzler out, hesitates, and gets two. He offers it to her, tapping it against her fingers. "Most things don't settle well with the medicine. Twizzlers, though, " he shrugs. 

She takes the Twizzler, watching him perform his odd ritual with the ends again before taking a bite of her own. He's strange but oddly… sweet. "You're weird, " she bounces her legs off the wall. "I like you."

He twists the Twizzler around in his hands, frowning at her. He can honestly say he wasn't expecting that. "I thought I was a malnourished hypocrite clutz?" 

She smiles, " you are but… I don't know, you're weird. It's… refreshing."

He considers this and nods. "Oh, " he bites the Twizzler. "Friends?"

She rolls her eyes, " don't get ahead of yourself, pal." 

He smirks and takes another bite of his Twizzlers. They’re totally going to be friends.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

JT: “I just tripped coming up the stairs. Thought, I was gonna die.”

Gil: “That’s embarrassing. You’re a grown man, you should be able to walk up the stairs, JT”

Malcolm or Dani: “Ow! I got a paper cut :(”

Gil: “Come here, kiddo. Let me see it. You want a band-aid? We can get a band-aid :( ”

[katiewrites-deactivated20241107]

OTP Drabble Challenge!

Rules: Followers send a number to your ask, along with a pairing, and you write a drabble using that dialogue in your piece! Try to keep up! Expect a TON of requests!

“The doctor said it’s normal” - “Well that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Baby, you’re not a bother.” - “I’m too needy, you don’t deserve it.”

“Come with me to the other room.” - “We’re not going to talk about this now.”

“Did you just hiss at me?” - “Are you judging me?”

“Don’t yell at me like I’m a child!!” - “DON’T THROW SCISSORS!”

“Here, take me blanket/jacket.” - “I told you, I’m not cold.” *shivering*

“Did you hear that?” - “I’m telling you, I’m haunted.”

“I just wanted an easy day with my boyfriend/girlfriend. Is that too much to ask?”

“Why are you awake right now?”

“Come over here and make me.”

“I want my best friend back.” - “Kevin is over there.”

“H-how long have you been standing there?” - “Long enough.”

“You’re lying, you’re blushing.” - “Shut up, no I’m not!”

“No, I’m not talking to you.”

“No more!” - “Okay, fine, I won’t send you any more selfies.”

“What do you have?” - “Pizza rolls and Cup O’ Noodles…that’s about it. Popcorn?”

“The salad here is really good.” - “Do I look like a fucking rabbit?”

“Open this.” - “Can you say please?”

“I just came to say goodbye…” - “Bullshit, you just feel bad.”

“You’re on level 176.” - “Can you judge me harder?”

“Jinx, you owe me a coke.” - *can’t speak until they buy a soda*

“Please don’t leave me.” - “I don’t want to go”

“Babe, I’m sorry.” - “Suck my ass.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” - “Seriously, you’re worse than a kid.”

“You can’t ride a bike?” - “Why are we whispering?”

“Is it that time of the month?” - “You literally ask me that whenever I’m mad at you!”

“We’re going downtown.” - “There’s a strip club downtown.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” - “Well, you shouldn’t be saying it then.”

“It’s not mine, I swear.” - “How is it not fucking yours!”

“Take it off.” - “Like a bandaid?”

“I told you…” - “Yeah, yeah, yeah, quit nagging.”

“Boo?” - “You’re my boo.”

“Don’t you ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me!”

“You broke what?!?” - “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

“Why’re you dressed like that?” - “Does that mean it looks good or should I change?”

“Fine, just do what you have to do.” - “Can you stop being so freaking cute so I can concentrate?”

“…then I picked up your coffee by mistake.” - “All I want is an apology.”

“Well, this is awkward.” - “Don’t touch me.”

“You can’t make me.” - “What are you? Five?”

“You’re a blanket hog!” - “Leave me alone and stop being so selfish.”

“It’s not fair that you’re hot and funny.” - “Look who’s talking…just kidding, your jokes suck.”

“I hate you.” - “No, you don’t.”

“Should I be worried?” - “Is the grass green?”

“You’re kidding me?!” - “Shush, my mom never taught me.”

“I’m your lock screen?!” - “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Will you go with me?” - “As long as you hold my hand.”

“Baby, I’m scared.” - “You don’t have to be; not as long as I’m here.”

“Come inside, I’m sorry.” - “Not until you apologize.” - “I just said I’m freaking sorry.”

“Your voice is sexy.” - “Your ass is sexy.”

“If I asked, you’d say no.” - “You don’t know that.”

“Seriously, the chimney?” - “The squirrel can’t win!”

“32?” - “I’ll prove it!”

“It’s just so little and adorable.” - “That’s what she said.”

“You’re not mature enough to be a parent.” - “Try me.”

“Take a chance.” - “Umm…let me think…no.”

“Game’s over, you son of a bitch!!” - “Okay, just don’t hit me.”

“You forgot about my birthday!” - “In my defense, I forget about a lot of things.”

“You need more stamina.” - “No, I need more steak and eggs. So…get on it.”

“Can you dance with me?” - “You’re not mad?”

“I’ll smash it, I swear.” - “You smash it and we’re done.”

“Move!” - “Why would I move if I’m so comfy where I am?”

“I’m not going in.” - “Then we’re not going to get a treat after.”

“I really would’ve liked it if you told me your parents were coming to town.” - “I really would’ve liked it if you put underwear on before coming into the kitchen.”

“I found it in the recycling bin.” - “Well, you’re the one killing the environment, so who’s really in the wrong here?”

“We bet, and you lost.” - “But tattoos are permanent.”

“Can you quit being so sassy?” - “Can you quit being so controlling?”

“Are you getting jealous?” - “You’re changing your outfit, now!”

“What time is it there?” - “We’re in the same time-zone.”

“Quit flirting.” - “I didn’t mean to-”

“I just don’t know what happened.” - “You’re too good for them.”

“You have a cute nose, don’t make me break it.”

“Tell me what I can do to help.” - “Sing me to sleep.”

“You still need your baby blanket?”

“Did you black out?” - “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

“Let’s just bury the hatchet.” - “Fuck your hatchet.”

“I bet it’s a boy.” - “I bet it’s a turtle.”

“Spare change?” - “You can’t be responsible, you don’t get your wallet.”

“Cuddle or leave.” - “So is that a no to supper?”

“Are you high?” - “I’m just so fucking tired.”

“Why did I marry you?” - “It took a lot of convincing.”

“Who’s texting you?” - “Umm. nobody.”

“You have two choices.” - “Neither of which I like…”

“I want a dog.” - “I want a cat.”

“Chinese food?” - “Do we even know what that’s made of?”

“These sheets are stained.” - “That’s disgusting.”

“You don’t know how to change a tire?” - “Give it a rest, would you?”

“That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” - “Well, kiss me so they see.”

“We got lucky. You’re not gonna do that again, right?”

“Hey, babe, look what I found.” - “GET THAT OUT OF THE HOUSE NOW!!!”

“You’ve been replaced.” - “Alright, we’ll see how you feel when you need me to kill a spider in the shower.”

“Are those slippers?” - “Is that you being mean? AGAIN?”

“You forgot your book.” - “No, I lost my book!”

“You’re weird.” - “Or you’re just basic.”

“We need a vacation.” - “You read my mind too much, it scares me.”

“Why’d you hug him? You love him?”

“Sorry.” - “Good choice.”

“Luck? Nope. Skills.” - “If it’s skill then do it again.”

“Why can’t you just believe me?” - “Because you lied about it before.”

“This bath is too damn hot.” - “This is why we can’t do cute things. You complain too much.”

*Make up your own*

Visit @prompt-bank for more prompts!!

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Malcolm swims like a little drowned rat

[trustbeatsfear]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Prodigal Son (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell Characters: Malcolm Bright, Dani Powell, Alea Margaret Bright, AFIS the greyhound, Gil Arroyo, Jessica Whitly Additional Tags: Brightwell, Sickfic, Sick Character, Medical Conditions, Hospitalization, COVID-19, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort Summary:

3 days they’ve been here. Almost 72 hours. Four sterile walls and a bathroom.

For @malcolmwhitly-bright .

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

It's so good and so heartbreaking

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Frozen In Time

Ask:  I had an idea that Malcolm and the Team are going up against someone from Edrisa's past - someone who drugs his victims to make people think they're dead, but they can feel everything but they can't react and then he autopsies them and Malcolm gets into this situation and the gang have to save him or something?

Read it here or down below:

In the seventh grade his advanced science class sent home wavers in the mail to be signed and sent back, written consent for thirteen-year-old to dissect some poor frogs in the name of science. When his mother got a hold of it, despite his initial interest, she put a very quick hold on that idea. Pre-pubescent boys are a force to be reckoned with, especially when they have their minds set on something, and the only thing Malcolm wanted in the whole wide world was to be a normal seventh grader and get to cut open a frog.

To him, it was nothing more than a frog and a science experiment his mother was being outrageous about. Not understanding him or his intense desire to just be normal.

It was never that simple though. It’s a frog but Jessica knew if he did what the other boys would do, if he got curious, and he looked and questioned- It’s all for nothing. Malcolm has a hard enough time. The tremor in his hand, the nightmares, and the anxiety. It makes him a novel to the other students, something to pick apart and ridicule. A threat and he always will be to those people. So, as much as it hurts her to say no to something so silly in his eyes- she has to.

It’s been over twenty years since that frog. His curiosity moved on to better things (a pig fetus in the ninth grade- she didn’t let him do that either, and a pig heart eleventh grader year- take a guess at that one Big. Fat. No.) and he’s certainly seen worse, now. Any medical curiosity he might have harbored dissipated whilst in college, biology and anatomy are good and all but the Surgeon ruined any hope of going into that field.

Autopsies. He’s never conducted one. He’s never seen one done. A morbid part of him is still curious, nothing wrong there, but it’s the kind of curiosity that’s better left unsatisfied.

This time, it’s not necessarily his fault. It’s… no one’s really. Edrisa had done everything they asked of her, even when it got hard. Someone had to make a mistake, they were simply bound to. Up for the better part of seventy-two hours, a single slip up wouldn’t be uncalled for. It’s excusable… he has to remember that.

“No, cause you see-” their bad guy, a solid 6’2 pathologist on the wrong end of a psychotic break, is unraveling. He’s disorganized and, just as Malcolm profiled, just being dealt a really awful hand. He’s not a mean man, not by nature. Edrisa had talked fondly of him, fear tinged into every memory she could recall as JT had slipped a Kevlar vest over his head and Dani loaded her gun. Of course, they all knew what he’d done was unforgivable but Edrisa was working double time to remind them that he’s a man.

A man not aware of his actions.

Now, Malcolm is being subjected to those very actions.

Five Hours Before- NYPD precinct’s conference room

Admittedly, Malcolm can tell that their particular, current, brand of questioning is doing more wearing and tearing and less information providing. Not that is at all Edrisa’s fault. While they have been working nonstop to provide an ample profile, place evidence, and question witnesses/family over the course of the last two days Edrisa hasn’t left the basement. None of them have left the precinct in hours, what is now days. It’s officially starting to go to their heads and not in a good way.

“Dammit!” It’s spurring the kind of outrage and whiplash that normally would never occur. Every last one of them is guilty of it too, it’s just that now the heat has been turned to Edrisa and the nervous sweat and tears threatening to fall from her eyes aren’t setting right with Malcolm. Not anymore. They’ve crossed a point- a point where they are no longer helping anyone and they certainly aren’t helping the one person who can help them: Edrisa.

“Gil,” Malcolm understands the power he has over the room. While, right now, they may be acting insensitive to Edrisa’s clear sadness there is a certain edge that he holds. It’s not, necessarily, that they prefer him to Edrisa or that they don’t like Edrisa so much as they’re afraid to break him. He’s seen the way they act. Dani walks on tiptoes around him and JT, for once, censors his clipped tone. And Gil. What wouldn’t Gil drop if Malcolm needed him?

So now, as Malcolm reaches out and gently squeezes the older man’s bicep, he knows he’s bringing a stop to the integration. “Gil,” he repeats. “I think that’s enough.” Somehow, he’s the one to acknowledge they’ve gone too far… stretched too thin.

There are first for everything.

Gil somber, a stricken sadness across his face. His actions and words are catching up to him. He hasn’t been acting like a leader and the thought sits uneasily with him. “Edrisa,” he attempts, his eyes softening as he grapples with the correct words to communicate with her how sorry he is. Nothing about his actions as of late have been appropriate but whose had been?

With their second victim, Edrisa had recognized something. Malcolm had called it a signature but she knew it to be more profound, a preferred style of incision done by a specific group of pathologists. Pathologist she knows, that she works with. As that news became public, going from something she adamantly told Dani to the rest of the team marked URGENT, the integration began.

Why hadn’t she told them? They’re three bodies in- three people have been paralyzed while a man fished around inside their bodes until they bled out or died of shock! Why was she silent?

The same reason any of them would be… they were hunting one of her friends. Not just a coworker. A friend.

“Everyone,” Gil pulls in a deep breath. Steadying himself as he leans down over the table, his head hanging. “Go home.” Before the stuttered complaints and arguments come, he shuts them down giving his head a sharp shake. A clear no. “We’re not thinking straight and I can’t honestly tell you the last time I slept or ate.” He looks up at them, as if to prove some point with his bloodshot eyes. “Go home. Eat. Sleep. We’re no good like this.”

Reluctantly, they do as they are told. Even Malcolm.

“Wait, Bright!”

While the others had filed out, nothing of theirs to gather up Malcolm had faltered with this order before moving to his coat. Delaying him just enough to leave the conference room’s only occupants to be him and Edrisa. “Yeah,” he’s too tired to plaster on a 1,000 wat smile but he offers a small grin. Something comforting.

She smiles sheepishly back and he knows the words that are going to come out of her mouth are going to be an apology before she even parts her lips. “I should have told you sooner,” she admits, ashamed. She should have, he can’t refute that.

As much as he’d like to brush it off, they might be farther than they are right now if she’d spoken up sooner. “I would have done something similar in your position,” he admits honestly, because he would. Making the decision to turn in his own father was hard and he can’t be certain what he would do now, as an adult a whole lifetime later.

He places a hand on her shoulder, “I hope you know, in the future, that you can tell me anything.” He hopes the same notion would be offered back to him if the situation was reversed. “And this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have prevented any of this.”

They share a knowing smile, silent but full of understanding.

It makes his chest feel tight with a good kind of feeling. He’s still reeling on that high- friendship is still so new to him, better than new car smell- as he steps into his house. The first thing he notices is that Sunshine doesn’t greet him with her normal eagerness. As he whistles out to her, he hears the barrel of a gun cock.

“Ha-Ha-Hand up!”

Malcolm turns around slowly, finding himself looking straight down the barrel of a gun.

Great.

Malcolm raises his hands and aside from the inappropriate thought of I wonder if I’ve set a record for being kidnapped by serial killers he thinks about the tremor in his left hand. What would he do if he was stopped by some trigger happy maniac- make it a yet another serial killer, a citizen engorged on too much True Crime, or some cop- and the saw his hand. The tremor isn’t hard to miss and what if it’s read as guilt? Like he’s got something to hide?

He collects himself, regroups. “You don’t have to do any of this,” but it becomes apparent, sooner rather than later, that what he has to say doesn’t matter. The other man has already made up his mind. “Please-” the world goes black.

Chapter Two to come soon...

[trashforazriel]

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

I love the eye squinting

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Brightwell sickfic with a happy ending, please!

I promise I did my best with a happy ending. You can also read the full fic here

I’ll Follow You Into the Dark

Malcolm Bright sits bolt up-right in the bed, his head spinning, and heart racing. His breathing cuts through the room, louder than the soft thrum of the air conditioning in the window by the bed. His body feels disconnected, having no control over his trembling, overheated extremities. He’s sitting in a pool of his own sweat. His shirt plastered to his skin and sticking to his back, drenched. His skin is visibly wet, in the low light glistening. He can feel it cooling across his brow as the air circles through the room.

Feeling his side of the bed shift suddenly Dani rolls over to see what’s the matter. She eyes him in confusion. It’s not rare for him to get up in the middle of the night. The chemo leaves him exhausted but that means he sleeps odd hours and takes naps in the middle of the day. When he does get up, he’s always cautious. Overly careful so that he doesn’t wake her too.

“Are you okay?” She sits up in the bed, pulling the cover up to her exposed chest. The cold air bites at her skin, causing goosebumps to pop up. “Malcolm-”

He throws the bed sheets off of his legs, knees bowing as he rises. Leaning heavily on the nightstand, he takes a tentative step.

“Malcolm-” she moves to help but he’s making quick, shaky progress on his own. As much as she wants to rush off to his aid… she knows it’s important to him that he's able to be mobile on his own. Things are flexible and understood. He asks for help when he needs it and when he doesn’t… she respectfully worries from a distance.

She bites her lip as the sound of his gagging eats through the silent apartment. From a distance, she reminds herself. A glass of water never hurt anybody. She pulls the comforter off her body, padding past the bathroom to the kitchen. She takes her time filling a glass of water, knowing he’s not going to want her hovering while he gags. It’s doesn’t take long, with virtually nothing in his stomach there’s not a lot to throw up.

The dry heaves are worse.

“You okay?” She steps into the bathroom’s doorway, leaning and waiting.

He watches her from the floor, neither inviting her in or asking her to leave. Exhaustion is weighing him down and the pain ebbing in isn’t helping. Mostly, he’s in awe of her. The summer months have darkened her skin and hair, both of which are on display in her pajamas. Her skin is warm and bare in only a sports bra and sleeping shorts.

While he’s sitting on the bathroom floor in the same boxers he’s worn for the better part of four days. There are bruises up and down his side and arms. He gets bruises all the time now. Every day he discovers a new one and from doing nothing. Most days all he can manage is walking from the bed to the couch to the bathroom.

She knows he’s been wearing those boxers since Wednesday. It’s a little disgusting but she doesn’t care. His thighs no longer make heat coil in her stomach, the muscles thick as he walks around their apartment. His clavicles are pronounced with his sickness, his skin stretched impossible taunt but he still holds her hand through scary movies. He orders take out from her favorite restaurant. Text her in the middle of the day about a bird in their window.

He’s still Malcolm.

She hands the water down but he winces. He shakes his head, “I don’t think I can drink that.” His mouth taste awful and his throat is dry but the mint of the toothpaste is going hurt and the water won’t settle in his stomach.

“When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?” She pulls out a clean rag, wetting the cloth before she crouches down in front of him. They share a silent moment before she starts to pull his shirt off of him. Careful as she moves his arms through each hole.

He keeps his eyes pinched shut, afraid that if he opens them he’ll cry. He just keeps losing. Every step forward he stumbles three back. Dying holds no dignity.

The shirt comes free and his flushed chest is able to breathe, to feel the cool air. The touch of the cool rag nearly steals his breath. Gently, she runs the cool rag over his neck and chest. He’s giving in and she’d be lying if she says it doesn't strike fear into her heart. “Do you want to go to the hospital?”

He sinks into himself, letting her press the cool rag to his feverishly hot skin. “No,” he whispers, moving limply along with her. “I just…” He doesn’t want to go to the hospital. He wants to stay home with her. To sleep in their bed and wake up to the sound of Sunshine chirping along as the sun rises. Not to the nurses doing their rounds. “I’m just having a moment.”

A moment. A lapse.

The rag has warmed to the touch of his skin. She rises stiffly, wetting it again with cool water. This time she lays it around the back of his neck, allowing the water to drip down his chest. “Mind if I join your moment?”

He looks up and she’s biting her lip, anxious that he’s going to turn her away. He’s never been able to tell her no. God, she just… she owns his heart. Doesn’t she know that? Her smiles made his day and if she cries… He’d kill for her. Which might not sound a lot but he’s spent his entire life convincing himself and everyone around him he’s not like his father. For her, though, in a heartbeat, he’d put it to the test.

He offers her his hand, “no moment of mine is complete without you.”

She takes his hand, smiling as she sits down on the floor beside him. “You’re incredibly sexy when you say things like that.” She kisses his cheek and lays her head on his shoulder. She rubs his fingers, examining them. The tremors have gotten worse with chemo, a lot of things have. He’s off of a lot of his regular medicine- no more anti-depressants, for example. Of course, the bonus is that his mother no longer tries to give him barbiturates.

Every coin has two sides.

“Can I ask you something?” It’s the middle of the night, probably about one in the morning and they’re sitting on the bathroom floor. She’s leaning against him, his hand in hers. He knows that she loves him, she reminds him every waking hour. Glasses of water on his nightstand. Sticky notes on the fridge. Blueberry bagels at dinner. “Why don’t you leave?”

But they’ve been together for half a year. Six months wherein three of those have been within his diagnoses.

To her, it sounds like a stupid question. With Malcolm, though, she’s learned there’s no such thing. He’s not testing her or playing with her mind. He’s genuine and scared but she doesn’t have some winded answer for him. No big proclamation but she knows him. “You’d stay for me, wouldn’t you?”

There’s no question about it. “Of course,” he answers.

She sits up. She wants to see his eyes. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced than they were half a year ago- Six months. Six months since he asked her out. How many times have they really said they loved each other? “I love you, that’s why I stay.”

He shakes his head, smiling. His body is weak. His mind sluggish. He needs help showering. She has to drive him to chemotherapy. Wipe vomit off his mouth. Help him in and out of t-shirts. “You have a bad taste in men, you know?”

She considers him for a moment. Her past boyfriends used to get angry when she wanted to spend time with her friends. Some used to bully her into diets. Once, Khalil called her fat. Another used to get drunk and cuss her out every weekend. Only to come back on the weekdays with roses and empty promises.

Malcolm has faults. Every human does but he never shames her and he never seeks out ways to hurt her.

“I do,” she admits. “You are nothing like them though.” She squeezes his hand and blinks away the tears threatening to spill. He’s kind and loving and goofy and handsome and- she could spend all day just sitting with him. Like now. “You’re the best decision I have made in a long time.” She pulls his chin close, kissing him softly.

He doesn’t pull away, leaning in so that their foreheads are touching. “Even with the cancer and the hospitals and the chemo?”

She rolls her eyes and kisses him again. “Easily,” she promises. “Even when you leave the toilet seat up and when you micromanage where I put the dishes in the cabinet.” She wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him close. Their limbs all tangled together. “Always, Malcolm.”

Tears sting his eyes. It seems… impossible. The thought that someone loves him like she does. “You’re-” his voice breaks and he offers her a watery smile. He looks down at their joined hands. “You’re the only reason that I get out of bed.” He laughs as she wipes a tear from his cheek. He finds her eyes again, “the only reason that I keep fighting.”

She has to bite her lip from crying. “Ditto,” she manages, voice thick with emotion. She leans against his chest, smiling as he wraps his arms around her. Holding her close.

They sit in their comfortable silence for a long moment. Simply enjoying having one another. Her mind is wandering, thinking about the muffin she had last week. She’s considering how likely JT is to get it for her when she remembers that at lunch today his mother called. Inquiring about their schedule tomorrow. “Your mother called, we’re invited for brunch in the morning.”

Malcolm groans, leaning his head back on the wall behind them. “Cancer card.”

“What?”

Malcolm shrugs, “I’m calling cancer.”

Dani frowns in confusion, “Malcolm, that makes no sense-”

When she looks up, he’s grinning ear-to-ear. Mischievous and chaotic. “Dani,” he says softly, lovingly. “I have cancer. The big C. I can’t take the medicine that’s supposed to balance out my moods. Every so often, a doctor pumps me full of poison and kicks me to the curb.” He smiles, “so, what I’m saying is. Tell her no.”

Dani is… amazed. She’s created a monster. “You want me to tell your mother… no?”

Malcolm nods, “I want you to call her and say that I don’t want to leave our warm bed to go eat nasty stuffy rich people food.” It seems like a pretty good idea to him. She’s not going to get mad at him. He’s got cancer. “But if she wants to bring bagels or something later… I might be up for that.”

She rolls her eyes. A monster. She’s created a monster. “You would deprive your sweet mother of seeing her sick son?” She lays it on thick, frowning disappointingly up at him but she can only hold it for so long. He cracks a grin and she loses it, chuckling darkly. “You’re awful!”

He is awful but she’s enabled it.

And they both, simultaneously, wonder if the other knows how much they love one another.

That Dani loves to watch him sleep. That soft snores he makes when he sleeps. When he holds her hand and his fingers squeeze around hers, like in his dreams he’s lost her and he’s reassuring himself she’s still there. That everyday she kisses him goodbye and that breaks her heart. That his lunchtime text made her day. When he comes to the precinct in sweatpants with coffee or sandwiches for her, JT, GIl, and Edrisa that her heart swells.

Because he’s thoughtful enough to know each of their orders.

Malcolm needs her to know that he loves the way she crashes around the apartment. The way she tiptoes around the side of the bed, kicking into the chest at the end and knocking over books on the nightstands. How she’s clumsy and loud when she’s comfortable. That she’s comfortable enough to be a mess around him. How when she gets home she kicks her shoes off and crawls into bed beside him. Tucking herself into his side.

And it’s that love- that unfaltering, endlessly love that will get them through.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

I haven’t for Prodigal Son in so long that I realize I can’t write in character for the show. So, if anyone has anything they’d like to request I will write it. I need to get back into the fandom more. It can be fluff or whump- really, anything at all

[ao3commentoftheday]

Thanks for giving me a chance ❤

[prodigalsonfanblog]

Prodigal Son episodes 1-10 as horror-esque movie posters

*click for better quality*

[prodigal-son-big-bang]

Prodigal Son Big Bang

The Prodigal Son Big Bang 2020 is a challenge for writers to write at least 20,000 words and an artist to create one art piece inspired by that work in any medium. All ratings, genres, pairings, and art types welcome! The sign up deadline for writers, artists, and betas is July 13, 2020. After sign ups close, all participants will be invited to a group discussion to pair up with a teammate. There are 2.5 months of writing and art creation time. The paired writings and accompanying art pieces will be released the last week of October.

All sign ups are via Google Form. Sign up here!

Keep reading

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

The idea is terrifying but I have signed up to do it! It’s good to try new things guys!

[dubblebubble]

these are actually hella fucking cute y'all

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

6: do you keep plants?

7: do you name your plants?

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

12: what’s your favorite planet?

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

22: are you a morning person?

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

28: sunrise or sunset?

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

39: what color do you wear the most?

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

59: what’s your favorite myth?

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

68: what’s winter like where you live?

69: what are your favorite board games?

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

73: what are some of your worst habits?

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

75: tell us about your pets!

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

82: are/were you good in school?

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

89: are you close to your parents?

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

[linguinereid-deactivated2020112]

i’m going start to work through requests today while i watch darks, send me some numbers!

[veraiconcos-deactivated20240422]

send me some cute asks 🥺

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

NOBODY MOVE

[semblanche]

someone: so who’s your target audience

me: me and three other highly specific people who i may or may not know irl. alternatively, anyone except my mom

[thedistantstorm]

Fanfiction writers everywhere.

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

I am not confident enough for anyone I know to read my stuff