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girlwiththenegantattoo · 10 months

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I've been on the writing struggle bus for quite sometime (6 months and counting) and as of a month ago I've experienced a four tire blowout. However, thanks to the lovely @littleredwritingcat (sincerely, you've kept me from giving up) I've been able to put this out into the world. This piece is an attempt to shake off my smutt writing cobwebs so I can finish my JT fic.

This doesn't really have a plot. Jade shows up on Father Paul's porch covered in blood because she just fed for the first time.

TW: porn without plot, mentions of blood, praise and dirty talk, smutt nothing but the smuttest smutt.

The Curious Task of Explaining Hunger

Paul looked up from his bible to see Jade hesitantly emerge from his bedroom. Dressed in a plain shirt and sweatpants two sizes too big, she was now clean and appeared to be a little less freighted. Giving an assuring smile Paul stood and gestures for her to join him in the middle of his kitchen.

“I know how terrifying this all must be.” Rubbing the back of his knuckles against her cheek Paul tilted his head. “It's so hard to explain it all in words but if you let me I can do it in other ways?”

Jade leaned into his touch as a sigh of relief fell from her lips. The action making her desperate need for comfort more evident. Giving an unsure nod Jade glanced up to find Paul’s brown eyes fixed onto hers but he’d gone completely still. It wasn't until he removed his hand that a wave of panic finally prompted her to speak.

“Yes! Yes, please…help me understand.”

Quickly returning his hand Paul lifted the other and caressed either cheek with a tenderness Jade wasn't used to. “The pain you felt in the beginning was from hunger, but I see you already figured that part out.” His hands drifted down from her face to settle at the top of her hip bone as he continued. “And as I'm sure you're also aware, just like everything, the hunger starts somewhere around here.”

Splaying his fingers Paul's thumbs took their place on Jade’s navel as another expectant look covered the usual soft features of his face. It took standing in silence for a moment before Jade realized just what that look was for.

“What…what happens if I ignore it?” The question earned her a soft smile as Paul received what he needed to confidently move forward.

“That my dear is something you really don't want to find out.” Moving his thumbs, Paul's hands continued their journey upwards and under the borrowed white shirt. After reaching her armpits he made quick work of removing it.

Taking a step back Paul mumbled something Jade couldn't quite hear as she stood awkwardly in a black bra and gray sweatpants she'd rolled at the top. Despite her efforts it did little to keep them from resting loosely, low on her waist. Without another word, Paul picked Jade up with ease, carrying her to the small mahogany table as ardent lips wandered down her neck. Using the tip of his nose he then traced the path of her jugular vein back up.

“This hunger will cause a spike in your heart rate just like it is now but that's what keeps you determined. It lets you know you're still alive.” Sitting Jade down ever so gently it was now time for him to explain the rest.

“Lay back for me, my little dove.”

Stepping into the space between her legs Paul bent over to unhook her bra as he moved to kiss the spot just below her earlobe. Whispering now, Paul spoke against the shell of her ear, “Once you give into the hunger…everything will feel so much better for you.” Straightening back up, Jade watched with rapt attention as Paul got to work on undoing the buttons of his black shirt. His own need now apparent by the erection that strained against the tight confines of his jeans.

Freeing the last button under his clerical collar Paul removed the white tab to reveal a toned physique adorned with tan skin. The sight catching her by complete surprise. Sitting up to feel, she was met with a silent shake of Paul’s head while his palms worked their way up her stomach, finding their place of rest on her ribcage, just below her breast. “Let me take care of you. You've been through so much tonight.

Laying back against the table Jade’s disappointment was made clear by the sullen look she gave.

“There. Where were we now?” Feigning a moment to recollect Paul watched in selfish satisfaction as she began to squirm. “Ah!...After the blood runs down and settles so exquisitely in your stomach you��ll start to feel a tingle like this.”

Sliding his hands upward, Paul cupped each breast, palming the delicate globes and outlining her areolas with his thumbs. An action of which causing Jade to take a sharp intake of breath.

“Yes, yes just like that.”

Removing one hand Paul replaced it with his mouth, taking a pert nipple between his lips. Applying slow swipes and tender nips Paul used his thumb and forefinger to gently roll and tug on the other. She sang so beautifully for Paul then. Each ministration pulling out a higher note. Enraptured by the sounds, Paul pulled away to fervently remove her oversized pants.

Jade must have ditched her underwear with the rest of her blooded clothes because now she laid before him fully bare. Murmured praises fell from Paul's lips like prayers as he swore an angel of beauty was chosen just for him that night. When a sudden look of vulnerability pulled Paul from his trance he realized Jade tried to cover herself with hands spread and arms over any skin she could reach. Running the pads of his fingers up the outside of her thighs he tried for a statement of assurance.

“No need for that. You certainly have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Resetting, Paul placed each of Jade's knees in a firm grip. With his thumbs rested on the inside of her thighs he waited for the tension in Jade's body to gradually ease. Feeling Jade had relaxed enough Paul gave a proud smile.

“There you go,” he cooed. “You're doing so well.”

Rotating his grip, Paul began to run his palms up the inside of Jade's thighs, pushing ever so slightly to widen the space between her legs when he stopped just before her sex. “Look at you. So gorgeous and willing to learn.” Gripping the inside of her left thigh Paul used his right hand to cover Jade’s mound. Glancing up into needy eyes, he swiped his thumb through her wet fold. Whining loudly Jade couldn't help the soft jerk of her hips.

“As time passes those tingles will turn int-”

“Father Paul?” Jade interrupted, now perched on her elbows with a shaking voice. “Can we skip to the part where it feels the best?”

The effort it took Paul to exhibit self control finally became much too atrocious and he was now more than happy to oblige. Jade watched in hazy excitement while his massive hands tugged at the leather around his waist. The jingling of its buckle only added to the wetness between her slit. In one haste movement Paul's jeans and boxer were pulled down just above his knee, freeing his aching cock. Returning his lips to the soft skin of her neck, Paul kissed another tantalizing trail up to Jade’s ear. Speaking in an amorous whisper Paul reached a hand between them to grab his cock, lining himself up with her entrance.

“This part is what makes you forget all of that discomfort the hunger caused.”

Driving his hips forward Paul buried himself between Jade’s tight walls immediately stilling when she let out a shattered breath.Though he gave her a moment to adjust to his size, he himself struggled with the building pressure of having the warmth of a woman wrapped around his length. Needing a distraction Paul kissed Jade's lips for the first time that night. Diverting in their softness she parted hers slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Craving more friction Jade tightened her legs around Paul’s waist and began to buck her hips.

“I know, I know my Dove. Just let me stay like this in you for a little bit.”

Paul hoped his huffed words would calm her; however with a catch of breath Jade unintentionally clenched around him proving they clearly had the opposite effect. Bringing his lips to the shell of her ear Paul spoke again, this time in a lower, commanding voice. “Just relax for me dear, we're almost there”. Giving a soft nip to her earlobe in thanks for her cooperation, Paul lowered his lips to the side of Jade’s neck as he drew his hips back. Slower now, he pushed forward deciding it was best to set a steady pace. Seeing that her back started to arch off the table he finally added a little force to his thrust.

“After the tingling subsides you'll feel a sensation like building pressure low in your core.”

Quickening his pace the lewd sounds of slapping wet skin carried a deep moan from the back of Paul's throat. Switching the angle of his hips he pulled Jade down to meet every thrust, watching in transfixion as she wither when after hitting a particular shallow spot Jade let out a loud shout.

“That's it. Give in to it, you don't have to be afraid.

With a breathy moan Jade threw back her head as she started to flutter around Paul’s length. Snaking his right hand to cradle the back of her head Paul bent back down and placed his forehead lovely against hers. With a guttural moan it only took three more exquisite punches of his hips. Chuckling through his nose Paul reveled in the sight of Jade hooded eyes and the feeling of a gentle hand running through his hair signaling a job well done.

“And that my little dove, makes you want to experience it all over again.”

#hamish linklater #midnight mass #father paul hill x oc #father john pruitt #father paul hill

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bearsinpotatosacks · 2 years

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Ice Skating- Winter Prompt List

From the prompt Ice Skating

Gentle flakes of snow drifted onto them as they walked on the frosted path of Central Park. Music was playing in the distance and light was coming from just past the trees.

Larry gestured the others along quicker. He grabbed Ahkmenrah's hand and tried to stop his face from lighting up any more than it already was.

Ahk was wearing one of his own worn sweaters from the back of his closet underneath an old coat from the lost and found. Sacagawea and Attila wore the same.

They were all mismatched and crossed their arms as he insisted that they just needed to go a bit further and they'd be there. They trusted him, he knew that. But they were on borrowed time like they always were when they went on their little excursions at night. Although, they weren't anywhere near as life threatening as they seemed to be. Most of the time they went shopping, Sacagawea coming back with armfulls of books, or they ate despite most of them not having internal organs to digest it.

He led them around a corner and gestured behind him when they stopped, "We're going ice skating!"

Sacagawea raised an eyebrow and smiled. Teddy did the same.

"I haven’t been skating since I was a boy!" He exclaimed, then added. "Well, I've never actually been ice skating, Teddy Roosevelt did,"

His vigour lessened as they walked to the kiosk. Children screamed on the ice as they fell, grappling quickly for their parents' hands or something to stop them. Couples skated arm in arm and oblivious to the world around them. Some people clung to the side and others floated around the rink as if on air.

Larry broke away to get the skates, Attila followed him, silent as usual, and carried the shoes back to the group. Larry could sense some anxiety in the way he was walking. He was always quiet and stoic but there was something to this silence that was strange, at least since he told them they were skating.

"Right, find your size everyone and then we'll go on," he said, "I paid for an hour so we'll be back at the museum before too much chaos has broken out."

The others laughed. He sat down and fixed his own before noticing that Ahk was having a hard time with his, he lent over and closed the clasps.

They stumbled to the edge of the rink. Larry could feel his memories flooding back. He always took Nicky here when he was young, it was how he got him into hockey. His father took him before that, and presumably his father before him. It was a Daley tradition that he might as well pass onto his new family at the museum.

He turned around, about to show them how to skate but couldn't hold in the laugh at what he saw.

Attila was clutching onto the side, eyes wide and body tense. Sacagawea was trying to explain how to move but he had none of it. He stayed put, yelling if he moved even an inch away from where he'd stopped.

Ahkmenrah didn't look too good either. Although he wasn't yelling, he stood with his knees bent touching each other. His eyes were just as wide as Attila's and he was shivering as he awaited instructions.

"I can't do this Larry," Ahkmenrah said with his teeth chattering.

"How can you know when you haven't even tried?"

"I know because I'm Egyptian," he waved his hands around. "I'm made for sand, not snow!"

Larry skated over to him and felt Attila's glare as he did, "I'll show you how you skate and I promise you won't get hurt,"

"Promise?"

Larry nodded, "You've got to put your weight forwards, it's better to fall where you can put out your hands than backwards where you could hurt yourself,"

"Okay," Ahkmenrah said.

Larry coxed his hands out from underneath his armpits and clasped them tight in his. They were cold, a strange sensation from someone who was almost always warm.

"Attila you do the same, even if you're just holding on the side,"

Attila moved an inch and tilted himself forward. He could tell it was taking all his strength not to flap and yell any more.

"Alright-" he turned to Ahkmenrah again, "Now slide your left foot,"

He did.

"Good, now your right,"

Ahkmenrah did again.

"Now carry on like that and hold onto me,"

He smiled at him and got the glowing one that he could only think was like the desert sun on an oasis. Larry slid himself backwards, it was natural to him, and watched as Ahkmenrah slowly stood upright again.

"I was skeptical," Ahkmenrah started. "But I think I'm getting the hang of this."

"See, I told you it wasn't that hard,"

"I believe your exact words were, 'How can you know when you haven't even tried?'" Ahk said.

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

Ahkmenrah rolled his eyes, "Yes, you were,"

They skated around further. Sacagawea was halfway around the rink, Teddy a few paces behind her but had gleeful smile on his face, one of nostalgia. Attila had made it a quarter of the way around and the creases on his face hadn't smoothed

"Why are you such a natural on the ice?" Ahkmenrah asked.

"I used to play hockey as a kid, it's the reason why I got Nicky into it,"

"I had no idea that ice was in the Daley genes,"

Larry laughed, "I guess it is,"

They met as they slowed down. Ahkmenrah bumped their foreheads, giving him another sunshine smile as they breathed. Electricity was in the air. Despite winter being in the air, Larry didn't feel cold.

He lifted his head and saw Ahkmenrah's eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones. His breath caught in his throat. He lent in halfway and saw Ahkmenrah meet him before he shut his eyes and their lips met.

He felt his heart speed up. He wasn't used to this yet and was enjoying every minute of it. Larry couldn't remember ever feeling like this. It was scary and exciting and wonderful.

"Come on, let's go around again," Ahkmenrah said.

Larry nodded and led him around again. The fire within him was burning bright. Winter wouldn't be lonely this year.

Hope you enjoyed this!

#natm #tablet guardians #ahkmenrah #larry daley #teddy roosevelt #teddy x sacagawea #sacagawea natm #attila natm #attila the hun #sacagawea #ice skating #bear writes #fluff #winter

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bigasswritingmagnet · 3 years

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Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now."

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly.

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!”

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation.

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered.

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

#caligosto loboto #psychonauts #chloe barge #i have...no excuse #i can't decide if i want to make like a whole thing out of it so here you go for now #pre-canon fic

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crimsonbluemoon · 4 years

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Working for Love: A Terrormoo Story, 1/17

Okay, soooo...surprise? For some reason, the first week of November I wrote this entire story. It’ll be broken down into 17 parts, about 4-5 pages each.

Yes, this means I wrote over 26k words in one week. I don’t know either.

This is a story that I’m dedicating to @personfullofplotholes because of all the work she’s helped me with for my BBS, MCU, and personal writing. Without her, Libahunt wouldn’t be a thing, and I’d probably be out of the fandom completely.

So this story will be posted every Saturday! I hope that you enjoy! ^.^

Main pairing: Terrormoo There will be other pairings mentioned through it, though not in detail and no real moments or focus. But they’ll be dabbled in there, so fair warning.

Drabble One

Brock was not lazy.

Really, he wasn’t. Sure, he lacked the active schedule he’d had when he was in high school. College had been a hard transition, and though he managed to get through it with a 4.0 GPA, his health took a hit. Making ramen noodles at three in the morning was simply easier than trying to prepare a balanced meal and study for his economics final. His friends hadn’t mentioned any changes in his waistline or that his cheeks had plumped up through the college exams and parties. The pants he’d shimmied into after high school were stuffed in the deepest corner of his closet by the last year of college, but he was genuinely happy with his life. He had a positive group of friends and a financially stable job as a teacher. Brock even got an apartment that had come with a gym membership to ‘Wildcat Athletics’ (the landlord, Nogla, said that he was ‘best buddies’ with the owner of the gym, and worked there on weekends) for as long as he was a tenant and paid his bills on time.

The only thing that even reminded him about his weight hangups, if he was being honest, was his boyfriend. Or, well, his ex-boyfriend. That factor was the exact reason that Brock stood outside of the aforementioned gym, lower lip dragged between his teeth on the chilly Monday night. Valentine’s day had been over a month ago, but still held more heartbreak than love for Brock. He’d been left stunned and insecure by the cruel words his lover had used to end their relationship.

“I can’t be with a guy who doesn’t want to fix what’s wrong with his body. You’re just too heavy for me to keep pretending to be attracted to.”

Two years spent fostering a welcoming and loving relationship had meant nothing because Brock now had love handles? His ex was in better shape than Brock from day one, but he’d assumed their relationship was built on more than looks. Brock had always been a little heavier, yet he balanced the slight physical shortcomings with his endearing personality. Never once had his ex complained about his body when Brock let him borrow his car or covered some of his bills during his ‘career transition’ between jobs. When Brock’s raise meant a vacation to Iceland, there were no complaints of thicker thighs and missing abs in the natural hot springs. He’d never made comments about the weight gain when the two were between the sheets, though recalling their love life over the past six months, Brock could remember several times his shirt remained untouched through their sex. The touches lacked the romantic charge they’d held at the start of their relationship, when Brock’s hips fit better under his hands and his shoulders weren’t rounded by stress and long study sessions.

But now all of these ‘burdens’ were too much for his ex to handle, and after his scathing comments, the man left Brock broken and crying in his apartment without a second glance.

“You’re not doing this for him,” Brock reminded himself, hand gripped tightly onto his phone to keep from turning around and heading back to his car. He’d already visited the gym a couple times over the past week, but always felt the impulsive desire to leave as soon as he stepped out of his car. His shirt was the baggiest he could find in his collection, hoping that it’d cover the lacking muscles and stretch marks he’d been staring at for weeks.

His break-up had been the catalyst for coming to the gym, but it wasn’t the only reason. Brock had several other contributing factors. Nogla’s face looked so hopeful when Brock mentioned he’d checked out the gym, and exercising gave him something to do to get him out of the house. He did get a small burst of pride each time he finished his walk on the treadmill, though he hadn’t been able to use it to take on the weights. For the most part, the gym wasn’t saturated with muscle-heads or judgemental members, and people who were in the same shape as him looked content going there. He’d only met the owner, Tyler, once, but he didn’t give a judgemental stare or rude comment when Brock mentioned Nogla’s offer. He did look grumpy while having Brock fill out paperwork and take his photo, but Nogla reassured him that it was just ‘his normal mood’.

Night workouts were always met with less clutter, as most didn’t want to work out after a 9-5 job. Brock’s guilty pleasure of sleeping through three alarms kept him from being a morning warrior, and he enjoyed the quieter time.

“Hey, welcome back.” He gave a small smile to the man who greeted him at the front counter before showing him his scan card.

“Hello.” He didn’t muster up the courage to exchange any more words than the polite greeting. ‘Evan’ (as the nametag offered) was handsome and kind, his smile disarming and real each time Brock came in. But his ex’s grin had been charming, too, and Brock wasn’t good enough for him. Brock was reminded of how the frumpy college t-shirt had a hole in the right shoulder and a stain under the logo that would be impossible to find attractive. Plus, Evan was far too attractive to be single like him. He tried to make his own smile hide his negative thoughts when he dropped his gaze and took the card back, scampering to the safety of the treadmills.

There were only a few people in the gym, and the station he liked to use was free. The tv in front of it played Animal Planet, which helped him through the harder parts of his routine. Plus, it was furthest in the corner of the gym, meaning that most members didn’t see him. The less people that caught sight of his flushed face, sweat stains and pathetic gasps, the better. His water and keys were tossed into the holders before he fumbled through the buttons of the machine, feeling confident enough to push his level to ‘4’ instead of the 3 he’d been hovering over for the past week. In seconds the belt was moving under his feet, and with Maroon 5’s ‘Give a little more’ playing in his headphones, Brock threw himself into his workout.

It wasn’t long until the higher leveled routine took its effect; Brock’s legs tingled with protest at the higher incline as each minute passed, but he tried to keep his mind focused on the music pounding in his ears. His chest expanded with greater desperation after minute seven, and Brock had to close his eyes after the ten minute mark to keep himself from shutting down the machine. The pads of his fingers were clammy, making it hard to change the song on his phone to something with a heavier beat. Another change in the treadmill’s incline had brown eyes looking to the TV, though dismay flooded him at the breaking news that was interrupting normal programming. The boring story didn’t have subtitles big enough for Brock to read, meaning looking at the screen was pointless. His eyes pulled away from the speech to find something else to distract him. It only took a few seconds to find the stairmaster, though the intimidating machine was not what caught his interest.

There, practically jogging from the speed he was using, was a man that rivalled the treadmill’s ability to leave Brock breathless. The sweat that made Brock’s skin fluster and smell looked much different on the other member. The muscle tank top was cut open wide under the armpits, leaving an easy window to peek at the fit torso and stomach hidden under the cloth. If the thirteen minutes of torture hadn’t already turned him into a persperating tomato, Brock was sure he’d be blushing. He winced at the realization he’d been staring before he forced his eyes back down to his hands, watching chubby fingers clutch the pulse monitors like a lifeline.

“Don’t stare, that’s creepy,” he huffed to himself. If he didn’t need his hands stable to keep from falling off the machine, he would have smacked himself. People were not at the gym to be objectified. Even if the man was beautiful, he had the same rights to a peaceful work-out. It didn’t matter how clear his skin looked, the cute way the front of his hair curled over his forehead from his work-out, or how bright his eyes were in the fluorescent light of the-Brock visibly jerked at the realization that his eyes had betrayed him, looking at the gym member again.

It’s not your fault, his conscience (in Mini’s voice, which made it so much worse) tossed out, Brock already rejecting the excuse as it formulated. He has really nice legs, and those pants are definitely spandex from how tight they are painted onto his ass-

The fact that his unconscious had picked up on something he didn’t even know he’d evaluated had him pulling away from the thought. Again, his eyes were following the sleek movements of the man, and he wanted to cry when he realized they were settled on the spandex-covered posterior. Embarrassment rearing up, a weird noise of protest bubbled out of Brock’s mouth. His feet stumbled for a moment, and he was sure that his sneakers made an unpleasant noise against the treadmill’s belt that echoed from how empty the gym was.

Horror rushed through his bloodstream as the blue eyes from before glanced his way, Brock ducking his head as low as he could during the worst part of his workout. He could barely keep himself walking up the high incline, but the lowered head made it so much harder. The sticky feeling of sweat clung to the collar of his t-shirt and the fabric against his back. He must have looked like a disaster, and the hottest guy he’d ever seen in the gym was looking at him. For a moment, he wished he could melt into the floor. Two grueling minutes went by before Brock finally raised his head again, breath shaky from both the work-out and his embarrassment. The blue gaze was still focused on him, and then a wave was paired with a beaming smile. He didn’t need to look to know his face was the reddest it’d ever been.

Thankfully for Brock, the timer on his treadmill hit twenty, and the belt slowed to a stop. He didn’t hesitate to jump off the treadmill, eyes dropped to the floor when scampering from the embarrassing situation. He barely remembered to wave goodbye to Evan, escaping into the cold of the night. The gasp of breath was chilling through his lungs, but with how hot his face was, Brock wished he could dunk his head into a bucket of ice. Why had that guy waved at him? Was he trying to show that he knew Brock was staring? What if he was just being passive aggressive? The entire ordeal was mortifying, and Brock could already hear how loud Mini’s laugh would be when retelling the terrible experience.

One thing was for sure; Brock was never coming back on a Monday night again.

And there’s part one. This is a very silly and fun story, and it will jump between Brock and Brian’s POV. So if you wanna know what Brian’s thinking, you’ll have to wait until next week and see! So, what did you think? Likes and reblogs will always be a good way to show me some love. Until next Saturday!

#Terrormoo #Soft boys #Terroriser #Moo Snuckle #<3 #Crimson drabblez #Gym AU

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

Text

As Yet Unread: Part 4.

Anonymous said: Where can I find the link As yet Unred... I have been reading it in bits and Pieces. Thank you

-- I took this from my personal blog, I hope you don’t mind, Anon. Please find all the previous parts attached here as well as the newest chapter --

Prologue (i) (ii). Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Sitting patiently in the flattened chair, Claire kept her good hand clenched around the faded leather of the seat. Jamie leaned against an empty table, his gaze unapologetically trained on Claire as they waited for Dr Gowan to return with the x-rays.

“Ye ken if yer arm--”

“Yes,” Claire interrupted, her excitement palpable, “it’ll be fine, I know it.”

She was almost vibrating, her hands tapping out a nervous rhythm against the base of the chair and Jamie didn’t want to quash her hopes if she was feeling so positive about the diagnosis.

Dr Gowan had promised that if Claire’s arm had healed enough and her fingers were in a similar condition she could go home with Jamie today and, even though the light had long since faded and most of the other specialists had gone home, Ned was going to stay in order to complete the tests needed to see if Claire was fit enough for release.

“Jamie,” Dr Gowan called from the doorway, “can I just borrow ye for a moment?”

“Of course,” he replied, smiling over at Claire before exiting the room behind Ned.

Closing the door, Ned turned to Jamie with a serious glint in his eye. “It’s important I just talk to ye about the implications of releasing Claire wi’ her night terrors still untreated, aye?”

“So she’s fit to leave then?” He asked, his chest lightening with the news. At least she had been right about her own health.

“Aye, she is. Her arm can come out of plaster but she’ll still need some physio on it, and she’ll need to come back in two to three weeks to have the cast of her leg and some rehabilitation. The muscles will ha’ wasted, ye ken, and she’ll need help adjusting to walking again. But that’s no’ my main concern now. My worry is that as much as she wants to escape her hospital bed, she hasna considered what life will be like now. It’s new and scary. Also, the last time she left a building she came to some harm, that sort of memory doesna fade so easily. She could verra well have a panic attack and be unable to leave. What I want to ken is what will ye do if she gets herself to the doors and these memories show themselves?”

“I canna fail her now, Ned,” Jamie replied, scratching his forehead nervously. “If I have to gather her in my arms and carry her to the car I will. I dinna ken much about post traumatic stress, its symptoms or its cures, but she needs a better place to heal mentally. That isna here and ye ken it well. The pills and the sedatives make her crabbit and miserable - as much as they do help some, they dinna help her. She’s stronger than any of us can even comprehend, Doc, so I have to gi’ her a chance to get better.”

“Alright then, Jamie lad. I trust ye. But you need to promise that you’ll contact me if yer worried about anything at all. I willna force her to stay somewhere that’s no’ helping her, mentally, but I expect that at some point the memories of her past punishments will rear up and swallow her whole. When that happens make sure ye dinna let yerself get in over yer head. If she needs access to anything at all, whether that be medication or an appointment wi’ a psychologist, call me.”

Nodding, Jamie followed as Ned walked back into the room with a large smile on his face.

“Good news, Claire,” Dr Gowan said, his hand reaching for the elasticated bandages that lay on the tray table beside the reclined chair, “yer arm is looking fairly stable though you are going to have to keep it wrapped and secured to yer chest - at least while yer resting. I’ve spoken to Jamie just to make sure yer homecare routine is set, and I’m happy for you to go home and recover in private. How does that sound?”

Loitering in the doorway to her private room, Claire leaned forwards on her crutches, getting used to the sensation of the plastic covered metal that now rested beneath her armpits. Jamie had banished her as he packed the few belongings that she’d accrued into a bag that Murtagh had brought over a few days previously.

“Anyone would think ye couldna wait to get away, lass.” Jamie joked as he folded her last jumper - one that Ellen had knitted and sent down with Jenny - and placed on the top of the filled bag before zipping it closed and placing it on top of his own jacket.

“Are you sure you want me in your home, Jamie?” She asked, her eyes wide and sincere as she leaned most of her weight on her good leg and swung the other backwards and forwards.

She was shaking but trying to hide it with the motion of her cast.

“Dinna fash,” Jamie replied, making his way over to Claire slowly. Placing his hand gently on the swell of her cheek, he rubbed the pad of his thumb against her flushed skin, “Jenny and Suzette have been in and made ye the perfect room wi’ nice furniture and decor - something I know verra little about - but it’s safe to say that yer more than wanted in my home, Claire.”

Closing her eyes, Claire sighed and tilted her head so that it rested more fully in Jamie’s palm.

“Are ye scared, Claire?” Jamie asked honestly, feeling a slight quiver run through her.

“Terrified.” She confessed.

“I’m here. I promise ye that, lass. I told Ned the same. Whatever happens from here on out, I’ll get ye home. Do ye trust in that?”

“Yes,” she whispered lowly, “just don’t leave me here.”

“I willna do that.”

Walking down the hall towards the admissions reception, Jamie let Claire lead the way as he carried her belongings. They’d signed the release papers in the room and Claire was free to leave without any further checks. Worried about Claire’s admission and Dr Gowan’s warning, Jamie kept a close eye on Claire but he didn’t want to place any of his fears onto her just in case they manifest into reality when they wouldn’t otherwise have surfaced but he didn’t want to be caught unawares either.

“Murtagh’s coming for us.” Jamie said happily as he walked through the sliding doors next to Claire, his finger pointing towards the short term car park, “I think he’ll be waiting for us.”

“Did he not want to come in?” Claire asked, her voice wobbling a little as she spoke but she seemed to right herself as they turned left out of the hospital.

“I didna want to crowd ye, neither did he.” Jamie answered honestly, unwilling to openly lie to her about his intentions. “Ye’ve been through a lot, Claire,” he said, looking left and right as they crossed over the small road. She still seemed happy enough as they approached the small Ford containing Murtagh and wee Fergus, “and we just want ye home now, aye? Though I’m sure Jenny is arranging something to celebrate as we speak. She’s a whirlwind, that one.” He joked.

Climbing from the car, Murtagh rushed round to take the small bag from Jamie. Placing it in the boot he came back to open the front passenger side door for Claire. “Ye can sit up front wi’ me,” he said cheerfully, “or ye can keep Fergus company in the back. Where would ye like to sit, Claire?”

Claire had met Fergus before when Suzette had brought him to the hospital. It was strange, she knew about babies from her biology A Level all those years ago, but she’d never actually seen one. Fergus seemed incredibly fragile to her and, although she knew he was actually so very resilient and strong, his tiny limbs scared her.

Glancing through to the back seat, Claire locked eyes with wee Fergus, his bouncy curls -so very much like hers- sliding in front of his eyes as he scrunched his nose and laughed freely. Claire smiled along with him, captivated by his bonnie blue eyes and his varied facial expressions.

“I-I’ll sit in the back,” she said finally, stepping away from the front of the car towards the rear, “if you don’t mind that is.”

“O’ course no’!” Murtagh laughed. “Fergus likes the car, if ye put yer finger in his hand he’ll hold onto ye as we ride.”

Perching herself in the back, Jamie took the crutches from her and placed them in the boot before climbing into the front passenger seat beside Murtagh.

Listening for the click of her seatbelt as he did his own, Jamie watched Claire in the rear-view mirror as Murtagh pulled the car out of the car park and back onto the main road. She seemed comfortable enough but her gaze was fixed on the youngest Fraser bairn as Fergus smacked his lips together playfully. Jamie observed Fergus as he reached his tiny hand upwards, wiggling his fingers in between Claire’s curls as she bobbed her head as she let him play.

It wasn’t until - only moments from Jamie’s flat - Fergus gripped a little too hard that Claire’s mental wall finally came crumbling down. Jamie watched in subdued horror as her eyes glazed and she drew herself back as close to the door as possible. Sensibly, Fergus immediately let go of her hair and went back to tugging at the stuffed dog Murtagh had placed in his lap.

Claire didn’t make a sound but her heart was thudding mercilessly in her chest as she curled her good leg up towards her chest and squeezed her eyes closed. She could feel him circling her, his harsh grip keeping her head elevated as the invisible threat whirled around her in the small back seat. Bile rose along her throat and she clamped her mouth shut to stop herself from throwing up in Murtagh’s clean care.

Murtagh; she thought blearily…

...she wasn’t stuck, bound and gagged on the floor of her old home. No, she was safe, with Jamie and on her way to *his* flat. But she couldn’t pull herself from the memory. Biting her lip hard, Claire tried to repeat to herself over and over. It’s alright, she whispered to herself, he’s not here. I’m safe.

Strong arms surrounded her, the warmth of them giving her a reprieve from the daggers that were digging into her fragile flesh. She realised, belatedly, that she’d been clenching her body so tight that she’d begun to get pins and needles through her feet and hands and that her calves had started to cramp making them almost too sore to move.

“It’s okay,” she heard a far off voice mutter mirroring the words she’d been chanting to herself, “yer safe, a ghraidh. It’s alright.”

She was shaking so badly that Jamie had a hard time keeping hold of her as he carried Claire up the stairs towards the lift. Murtagh followed behind, one hand gripping solidly onto Fergus’ carrycot and the other holding Claire’s bag. They boarded the lift in silence, listening only to the shallow gasps of Claire’s breath as she panted through her panic. Jamie could feel her tense and relax as they stepped out of the lift on his floor and headed the short distance to his front door.

“Are ye just going to let her sleep?” Murtagh asked quietly.

“Aye, thanks Murtagh. I’ll stay wi’ her for now but I dinna think there’s much I can do other than keep talking to her.”

“She can hear ye so I’d say that’s a good bet. Once she’s fought through the worst of it she’ll be able to use yer voice to bring herself around I reckon.” Murtagh said wisely, placing Claire’s bag down and patting his nephew on the back. “I ken it doesna feel it when yer living through it, but she’s calmer now than she was in that hospital room. That’s something right, even if only a small victory?”

“Och, aye it is,” Jamie said quietly, smoothing the hair from Claire’s forehead as he wrapped the blankets around her trembling shoulders. “From what Ned said before we left this was pretty much a given considering her ordeal. It was more a matter of when she’d have her first panic attack rather than if.”

“J-Jamie?” Claire whispered, her throat rough and dry.

“I’m here Claire,” he replied, nodding to Murtagh as he quietly left Jamie and Claire be, closing the front door softly behind him. “Yer wi’ me, aye? Home.”

Squinting her eyes open, Claire shuffled as close to the edge of the bed as she could get and slipped her hand out from beneath the sheet. Jamie took it, his warm palm wrapping delicately around Claire’s.

“Thank you,” she said sleepily, her eyes opening and closing drowsily as she tried to keep herself awake, “for everything.”

#;Mod MBD #As Yet Unread #jamie x claire

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inklingleesquidly · 7 years

Text

THE CHARGE SHOT

PART 5

After the terrible accident left him feeling hopeless, alone, and scared, Lee Squidly takes a journey down to Octo Valley with a special friend to learn the ways for him to overcome the afflictions of his injuries. That isn’t all he’ll have to learn though... to get better he’ll have to radically analyze how he handles the stress in his life.

Brief mention of characters belonging to @myzzy and @son-of-joy

Word count: 5,868

PART 4 CAN BE FOUND HERE

There was a lone kettle in Octo Valley. It hadn’t much in the way of anything of interest so it went uninhabited and unclaimed, merely another background piece in the heart of the Octarian Homeland. Brush rustled in the untamed wilderness as a pair of Inklings made their way through. Callie Calamari smacked away an overgrowth of plant life in her path with her Hero Roller.

She had a mission in this remote region and the subject of that mission clung to her back. “Mmm… Callie do we have to do this, I can walk just fine,” Lee Squidly winged in shame.

She answered, "Don't worry about it, Cutie, I know with your little legs you can't keep up as well." She smacked another branch out of the way, "Besides, I can't have you getting tired when we got a lot to do."

As nice as she was trying to be, Lee couldn't help but mutter his displeasure to himself at having to be carried piggyback since they arrived from Inkopolis. He already felt weak and feeble to start with, being the size of a small, squishy child, and this didn’t help at all.

There was one assurance Callie gave though; she was going to teach him a way to fix this size dilemma. Why this entailed bringing him all the way down to Octo Valley, he didn't know but his mom was willing to try anything to see him happy again so she entrusted him to her.

Finally, she seemed to come to a stop, “Okay Cutie, we’re here,” she proclaimed.

Peeking over her shoulder, he couldn’t stop himself from gasping in awe of the sights that lay before him. “Wow,” he breathed, gazing out at the utterly picturesque scenery before him. It was a clearing of green grass surrounded by tall, wild trees. The gentle sound of running fluid caught his ears and he found a stream of water flowing through a stony edifice. It went down over rocks into a small levy that was a short drop below them.

“It’s just like how I remembered,” Callie commented nostalgically. After a questioning murmur came from Lee, she began to explain, “When we were little, Gramps brought us here in the summer for training.”

“Training,” Lee repeated, as he was set down on the ground. He watched her as she walked about; gleeful at seemingly every tree and rock that caught her eye.

Callie confirmed, “Yah-huh,” and then she began to swing her roller wildly about. Flicking ink every which way, she said, “He taught us how to shoot, to swing, to snipe, to slosh, to throw, everything!” She stopped for a moment to turn to Lee and flex her arm, proud as her firm muscles bulged out against her bronzed skin. “I didn’t get buff just from singing and dancing, y’know?”

He gave a nod and a courtesy snicker, watching as she covered more of the area in her ink. With enough of it spread around her tentacles started to glow with a brilliant brightness. She returned to Lee, sitting down in front of him, “I don’t have the equipment he used to train us but check this out.” Crossing her legs, she held her hands in front of her stomach. Unsure of what she had in mind, Lee grew ever curious when she quizzed, “Cutie, do you know anything about Special Energy?”

Though he answered with a silent nod, he internally recounted everything he knew about the question. I remember learning about it in Health Class; it’s a phenomenon unique to Inklings and stems from their natural competitiveness. Like a gauge filling up; when they do enough to feel strong and empowered they can do super amazing things. He was most familiar with squids using this ability in Turf Wars to fuel weapons like Inkzookas, Killer Wails, and transforming into Krakens. As far as I know it only happens in War games like Turf Wars. He deeply contemplated the unique facet of Inkling physiology, something that was still largely unexplained in their species.

He only questioned it more when Callie engaged in an action that dumbfounded him. With her posture relaxed, her breathing steady, and her eyes closed the radiant light on her tentacles faded away. It looked as though it had completely disappeared, but only momentarily as the rippling, sparkling energy reformed before his very eyes between Callie’s palms.

“Gramps taught us that you can control Special Energy,” she revealed. Standing up before the amazed, wide eyed boy, she began to move around with the sphere. Extending her arms and legs, twisting and contorting the orb of energy in the space between her hands, she almost danced with it. “You can do all kinds of things!” It was so utterly captivating to the shrunken squid that he was almost too enthralled to listen as she said, “And that’s why we’re here today, Cutie.” She closed her hands, causing the collected special energy to dissipate in the air as she declared, “I’m going to teach you how to control your Special Energy.”

“Wait, what,” he answered, taken aback by such an idea. “N-no way,” he babbled, “There’s no way I could learn something like that.”

Callie returned, “Why not?” She put her hands on her hips, “It’s the whole reason we came out here, c’mon Cutie, anyone can do it!”

He babbled, “B-but b-but I can’t use any ink to get it going, I still only have borrowed ink, I think.” He gingerly touched his hand to his side, remembering the hefty transfusion circulating through his body. Not only that but he still felt a painful tightness inside him where his ink producing organs were, leading him to believe he still hadn’t made any of his own.

“No problem,” Callie said, seeming to anticipate this as she produced a collapsed ink tank. “You can just borrow some of mine,” she graciously offered. Would it even work that way? Lee wasn’t sure and his doubts definitely showed in his features. Callie could see this incredulity so she said confidently, “Trust me Cutie. I promise we can do this, and it’ll help you get back to normal.” Lee watched her crouch down, bringing herself down to his level as she tried to reassure him.

He looked down at his feet then at her, all the while wondering what could be the correlation between Special Energy and ink? Scanning the hopeful look on her face, he muttered, “I don’t know about this.”

“Well I do,” she shot back, “Please, just give it a chance!”

Maybe she knew something he didn’t? With a sigh, he replied, “Well, what have I got to lose?”

Knowing he was on board, Callie gave a clap of delight, “YAY,” she cheered, “Let’s get started right away!” Her excitement and optimism were so contagious that it made Lee smile for the first time in a long time. Maybe it could be exactly what he needed to contend with his stress? So he thought until Callie blurted out, “Now let’s get naked!”

“W-w-what,” Lee stutteted.

Callie would reveal that for what they were doing, Lee would have to learn proper breathing. To start, they would need to remove everything that would inhibit respiration. As self-conscious as Lee normally was, his condition made him more insecure than ever. He was so slow and shaky with pulling his shirt and his fitted undershirt over his head that Callie urged, “C’mon Cutie, get the lead out.”

“I’m trying, I’m—ulp,” His shirt was caught on his head but he peeked out to find she had already disrobed down to seamless athletic underwear.

Callie noticed he then immediately covered his face, and even caught sight of the sudden trembling of his body. “Cutie, what’s wrong, it’s just us out here, it’s just—ohh,” she swiftly pieced the puzzle together after glancing down at herself. “Well if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, just pretend I’m your mom!”

“Uhh,” was Lee’s answer, strongly preferring not to think of her as his mom. In the end after much shaking and stalling, he stripped down to just his athletic shorts.

As it turned out, Lee learned he had been breathing wrong his entire life. This was quite apparent to him with Callie’s regiment; breathing while stretching the body. “Having to sing and dance, breathing is super important to me already,” Callie said, having him inhale and exhale in tune with the counting of her fingers. “But it’s important to everyone, I mean, obviously, but subconsciously we forget to do it. Your body needs a lot of air to work right.”

Silently, she motioned for him to change poses with her, “Besides that; even though we don’t have any bones and are naturally springy, a lot of Inklings don’t stay active so their muscles get all tight.” She seemed to move through every stretching motion with relative ease, “That makes their range of movement really limited and prevents blood from flowing the way it should.” Managing to balance her body with little effort, she said “If we make sure to stretch and breathe than everything will flow through your body a-ok!”

While he stumbled in holding a pose, Lee questioned, “Say umm, Callie? Wah,” he waved his arms and held his stumpy leg out to steady himself. Once he regained his balance he continued, “If we’re here to learn to control Special Energy than what’s all this about air and blood and stu—uh—AHH!” Despite thinking he balanced himself, he fell forward into the dirt.

“Uh oh,” Callie quickly shuffled over to his side. Hooking her hands under his armpits, she helped him stand back up and replied, “Ahh, y’see Cutie, it’s all connected in a way.” She dusted him off, clarifying, “If your breathing is good you’ll have good blood flow, if you have good blood flow than you’ll be able to breathe well. The more you take control of your body and keep it healthy, the easier it’ll be to reach deep down inside and pull out things you never knew you had. Doesn’t that sound awesome?” It was impressive how knowledgeable she was about all of this.

Her enthusiasm was met with mumble through a faltered scowl by Lee, “Y-yeah, awesome things.” That was all he could say. Numerous thought circulated through his head as she continued to talk and brush grass blades off of him. He was only 15-years-old yet squids who were five, maybe ten times older than him were more flexible than he was. As if that wasn’t enough, the breathing portion was another struggle. He hoped with all he had that she didn’t notice how many times he lost the rhythm and fell out of pace with her; inhaling when he should be exhaling, inflating his stomach when it should be deflating…

What’s wrong with me that I can’t even do something so freaking simple? The frustration was building up within him that it made him mash his palm against his eye.

Even though he had downbeat feelings, Callie was still able to smile, “C’mon Cutie, if you fall down ya just gotta pick yourself back up. All right, for now let’s try some more poses,” and she gripped Lee’s arms by the wrists. With one solid motion she pulled them outward, extending his arms to comically long proportions as she said, “We’ll get you good and stretched out in no time!” When she let go they retracted back into place with a loud snapping noise, a maneuver that Lee didn’t take much joy in experiencing.

The day eventually winded down and the sun was beginning to set. Callie and Lee sat opposite each other in total silence. Between them there were only the sounds of wind, water, and the animal life native to the kettle. She was teaching him meditation or rather trying to. It was simple; he just had to clear his mind of negative feelings but a number of invasive thoughts and questions made that difficult. He opened his eyes and asked one of those questions, “Say Callie?”

“What is it, Cutie,” Callie quietly answered, striving to maintain her concentration.

“If we’re just learning stretching, breathing, and meditation how come we had to come all the way out here, couldn’t we just do it at my house?”

There was a brief pause from his companion before she opened her eyes and straightened her posture. “Hmm,” she mumbled, “We could have but this place just sprang to mind since it’s where I learned all of this.”

Another curiosity came to Lee’s mind, “Is there anyone else who knows how to do this?”

Callie spiritedly replied, “You bet-cha,” and then counted on four fingers, “Besides me there’s also Marie, and Blueshift, ohh, and Jacar to! There’s probably more but that’s all I know.”

A gasp of delight escaped from Lee at the mention of those names, “Whoa, really, Mr. Blue—I mean, Blueshift and Mr. Jacar know how to control their Special Energy to?”

“Yep,” she smiled and leaned forward with her hands in her lap, “Jacar learned it with us when we were kids. They’re all really good at it to, especially Marie. She’s a natural, when we were learning she took to it right away.”

Lee wondered, “Wow, what about you?”

“Umm,” Callie hummed unsurely, “It actually took me awhile, a long while but I got it!”

That was alarming to Lee, he asked, “Why’s that?”

Callie waved the question away, “Don’t worry about it,” and retook her relaxed posture. “Let’s get in a little bit more meditating before we head home,” she suggested. That conversation turned out to be counter-productive; Lee’s mind was awash with thoughts of what Callie’s experiences with this training were like?

Every day since then Lee would come from school and Callie would be waiting for him at his apartment to take him for more training. The itinerary largely remained the same; she would guide him through stretching and breathing exercises with meditation at the end. As time went on he should’ve been getting better, getting the hang of it, but he wasn’t.

Did Callie even notice? How he couldn’t maintain his equilibrium? How he got dizzy? How there were times he was so tired he was about to collapse? Despite it all she seemed to remain undeterred in her zeal. “That was great Cutie; you’re getting better every day!” Soon enough though, the next phase was upon them, “Okay Cutie, we’re making good progress with training your body, now let’s get started learning to control your special energy!”

“WHAT,” Lee snapped back.

She couldn’t be serious? Surely she was aware that he was still having trouble with—well, everything! Whether he liked it or not, Callie wanted to proceed.

From the get-go there were complications; Lee was so diminutive and weakened that he couldn’t even push Callie’s Hero Roller when she placed it in his hands. He strained so much that he started to sweat and snarl with each inch he just managed to get it moving and lay down ink.

Out of nowhere he felt hands coming to cover his own. They gently gripped just over his and with that the roller began to move. Lee looked behind him to see Callie crouched down behind him with her encouraging smile, “Don’t worry Cutie; I’ll help you get going.” He could only look down— her necessary help only making him feel worse than before.

Whether he liked it or not, he somehow managed to roll out enough ink, Callie’s ink no less that he became full of Special Energy. How was this possible? Maybe it was just Inkling instinct?

“Okay Cutie, are ya feeling it,” Callie wondered, shaking her clenched fists as she watched the telltale sparks radiate off of his tentacles.

Meekly nodding, Lee confirmed, “Y-yeah, I do, it feels sorta like all the ink in my body is getting all fizzy.” That was always how it felt, it was quite an intense sensation; perfectly fitting in a competitive environment.

Callie laughed, “Hee hee, that’s it, that’s totally it! Now,” she sat down, taking the pose they always took for meditation, “Keep track of that feeling, concentrate on it, reach deep inside and grab onto it!”

Grab onto it? How could he grab onto energy?

How could he find something he hasn’t lost?

How could he not concentrate on something that felt so powerful?

She broke his trail of thoughts, cheering, “You can do it Cutie, just relax and focus!”

Despite all the questions he had, he did as she said. Sitting down, he relaxed, held his hands in front of his core, and strived to concentrate that fizzy feeling into his palms. In the end… he failed.

He sat there for what seemed like minutes on end, intently glaring at the space between his hands. They started to tremble after awhile and a frustrated noise eked out of his throat. Callie warned, “C’mon Cutie, don’t force it, just take it easy and concentrate.” He kept trying, only for his Special Energy to fizzle out. At first that was confusing to him because he had never seen that happen in a Turf War but Callie informed, “Don’t worry, your body has to expel all that energy after awhile but we’ll just try again, you’ll get it next time, I know it.”

He didn’t get it the next time.

Or the next time.

Or the next.

Or the time after that.

Time kept on going; Callie continued putting him through the exercises, the meditation, and offering lots of ink for Lee to fill himself with Special Energy. She was happy to do all of this for him, undoubtedly, but Lee on the other hand… “Urrrg,” he growled, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his head. He wanted to make it work; he was desperate to finally make it work. “Gah,” he couldn’t maintain his focus anymore. The energy faded away and with it the defeated boy fell forward.

He could hear Callie’s voice, she said, “You’re doing so great Cutie, let’s give it another try, you’ve almost got it!” Her continuous motivation kept him going but what she said next nearly broke his heart. “Just think of it Cutie, how cool it’ll be when you roll back into Turf Wars and you can use that Ink Beam you did as your own new special!”

“HUH?!”

“Did you have another name for it,” she wondered. Tapping her finger against her cheek, Callie thought, “Hmm, maybe it could be better. How about the 96,000 Gallon Wave, or no, the Shinink arrow, or the Buster Cannon, wait, wait, I got it, the Lee Laser! How does that sound?”

He was quiet at first through her list of suggestions but Lee soon pounded his fist in the dirt, screeching, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Despite his pint sized body his voice echoed all over the kettle, making Callie jolt back in fright. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I WANT TO DO THAT AGAIN,” he screamed at her more. As much as he tried to keep his frustration in check, he couldn’t anymore, “DO YOU THINK I WANT TO PLAY THAT GAME AND GET HURT AGAIN?! ARE YOU CRAZY OR SOMETHING? ARE YOU? ARE YOU?!”

He went from screaming to sniveling his words through gritted teeth, “I can’t do it, hick, I don’t—diye--I d-don’t wanna do it again. I never ever, hyuh, wanna, ahuh, play Turf Wars again!”

Callie smacked her forehead with her palm; unaware of just how extreme his feelings on this whole situation truly were. Quickly she closed the short distance between them and dropped down to touch her hand to his shoulder as he buried his head in his hands. “I’m really sorry Cutie,” she began, tenderly stroking his back, “I’m so-so-so sorry, I didn’t think of how bad you felt about this.” Desperate to keep from being the cause of an anxiety attack, she tried to persuade him, “But please; d-don’t give up! Even if you don’t want to use your Special Energy for something like that we can still use the training to get you making ink again.”

“Can I,” Lee muttered an almost inaudible whisper without lifting his head, “Can I really?” He dug his hands into the ground, pulling up the grass, “I always thought—thought that if I just worked hard enough I could get over everything that makes me weak. I could get over not making ink well or not being as fast or as strong as others. I was fine with working 10, no 100 times harder just so I could be at the same level as others but now—I don’t know.”

His whole body shook as he rose to his feet. He couldn’t look at Callie, his eyes stared down at his feet as he choked, “I keep thinking someday it’ll be different, that I’ll be better—but it’s ALWAYS THE SAYY’ME!” His voice cracked as he choked on his tears, “it’s always the same, I ALWAYS LOSE IN THE END!”

“And now look at me,” he held out his hands only to suck in his breath and bear his teeth, “I’M AS PUNY—AND WEAK—AS I’VE ALWAYS—FELT,” he growled, repeatedly punching himself in the abdomen where his ink gland was.

Callie desperately rushed over, fearfully ordering, “Cutie stop! Don’t hurt yourself, please,” she gripped his arms by the wrists and stopped him by holding them above his head. Lee sniveled and cried, desperately wanting to wrench his hands free, his frustration far past its boiling point.

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ME, NO ONE DOES,” he cried out. “You, you’re perfect,” he looked into her eyes for a fleeting moment before looking back down at his feet, “And me, everything I do is pointless, and I can’t take it anymore.” He couldn’t hold back his tears of sadness anymore, as they dribbled down his cheeks he squeaked out, “It’s so pointless, I’m just a loser.” He went limp, only supported by Callie’s grip on his wrists, “And that’s all I’ll ever be.”

As much as she wanted to cry with him, feeling nothing but sadness for her friend, the sheer magnitude of this problem made her realize there was no tip-toeing around what he needed to hear. “You’re right Lee it is all pointless,” she harshly informed, but that wasn’t all she had to say, “If you don’t believe in yourself.” Those words, as simple as they were, they stopped his crying.

It was definitely time for a break. Lee and Callie collected themselves and decided to eat some of the lunch Janine had packed for them. Sitting on the rocks looking over the water filled levy, Callie commented, “You know something Lee, we’re a lot alike.”

“Is it because you like your sandwich with hummus instead of mayonnaise?”

Even though that was true that wasn’t it, “Huh, no, no, that’s not why. It’s because I struggled a lot with this when I first learned too.”

Taken by such surprise, Lee accidentally spit out bits of chips he was munching on, “What, no way!”

“It’s true,” she said, “Remember when I said it took me a long while to get it?” Lee listened to her recall the experience, “Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had trouble concentrating and keeping my mind on just one thing. Not only that but I always had this habit of putting too much oomph into things. Marie said it was like, ‘Most people put in 100%, you always put in 115.’ She joked but I couldn’t help it, and when it came to this I kept forcing myself to make it work.”

Lee asked, “How did you manage to do it?”

“Gramps put me through a different kind of training,” Callie recalled.

“What was it,” Lee quizzed?

She gave a giggle, “He made me pour hot water into cups.”

“Huh,” Lee couldn’t fathom the application of such a menial task.

Luckily, she could explain it to him; “I had to pour from this giant tea kettle into tiny cups and I had to do it just right. It might not sound like much but I had to pay really close attention to make sure I was pouring just right and that I was holding the tea pot just right or I would drop it or spill water.” She took a sip from her juice box before continuing, “That taught me to take it slow and easy, and I could focus where I needed to.”

There was one part of her experience that Lee was most curious about, “Wasn’t it frustrating though? Like, when you said it came easy to Marie but not you?”

She pursed her lips and sighed, “It’s always kinda been that way. I feel like Marie is better than me at everything.” That was a shock to hear but Lee couldn’t interject before she added, “I feel like I hold her back; she’s the more talented singer, dancer, just, everything.” Lee wanted to tell her that just wasn’t true; especially when Marie informed him that she felt the same about Callie. She clenched her fist, “That’s why if I have to work 10 or even 100 times harder myself to get to stay with her, I’ll do it!”

Lee didn’t know what to say. He wondered if that’s what he was missing, motivation in the same light that she had. The only problem was Lee hadn’t anyone in his life quite like Callie had Marie… or did he?

“There’s one thing I like a whole bunch about you, Cutie,” Callie smiled, “You think a lot about things, and consider very carefully—unlike me who just does the first thing that pops into my head.” A small gasp came from Lee, hearing her say exactly that made his heart skip a beat, especially when her spontaneity was something he always liked best about her.

He hadn’t time to dwell on the thought as Callie placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke in a serious tone, “But this one of those times where you have to not think so hard. The more you worry about messing up and not doing it right, the more stressed you’re going to get, and you won’t be able to do this. So can you do that, Cutie? Can you stop worrying and just go with the flow? For yourself? For me?” She had a pleading look in her eyes. She didn’t say it out loud but she desperately wanted to make this training work, believing with all of her heart that this would help him on his road to recovery.

Lee knew this; he knew she was doing her best for him. There were doubts and worries still lingering in his head but for her, and himself he was going to try, “I will,” he promised.

“Yippie,” she squealed in happiness, shooting up to her feet.

Following her by standing up, Lee finally answered her enthusiasm with a confident shake of his balled fists, replying “Yah—urrp.” Embarrassingly though, he burped, “Heh-eh, can we actually lay down for a little bit first? I’m kinda full,” he laughed, clutching his stomach knowing lunch hadn’t settled in yet.

Callie giggled, “Hee hee, sure Cutie.”

With their vigor renewed, and their understanding revitalized the two friends returned to the lessons. Callie knew now to take things slower so Lee could keep up with her, and he did his best to not falter from his mistakes or missteps. Even going back to square-one there were still quite a lot of those. None-the-less he picked himself back up and kept going, and for the times when he couldn’t, Callie helped him. His mind was so much calmer; he took to the training much better—leading to one faithful moment.

Sitting on the ground, hands held out, an intent stare, and his ink glowing like a fire in the night, Lee was attempting Special control again. Adjacent was Callie quietly though eagerly observing his progress.

He felt something different from before; the beat of his breathing, it was in tune with the pulse of the sparking and popping of his ink. That must’ve been what he was looking for! Not wanting to lose it, Lee concentrated with everything he had, meditating on it, focusing on it, until he could take it. In that moment a gasp from Callie pierced through his concentration.

“Cutie!” Her voice was breathless with elation, “You did it!” Opening his eyes, Lee came to see Callie slapping her hands on the ground and leaning forward. She was marveling at what he saw next; a glowing orb of energy shining in his hands. It was so intensely bright, so bright in fact that Lee had to shut his eyes in reactive fear that he would be blinded. That moment of distracting alarm made the sphere fizzle out.

Even though it left as quickly as it arrived, Callie still lunged forward and embraced the little, bewildered squid. “Cutie, you got it, you finally got it, I knew you would, I just knew it, I’m so happy!”

Lee could only let out deep exhalations until he could finally piece a thought he had together. “Why was it so bright though, I felt like my eyes were gonna melt?”

Sitting back, Callie shrugged her shoulders in unawareness, “I don’t know,” she said, only to let out a laugh, “Hee hee, maybe it has to do with your never-giving-up spirit?” Was it really? Something in Lee made him inclined to believe her but he hadn’t time to think about it as Callie asked, “Well you’ve finally got it, are you sure you don’t want to play Turf Wars anymore, Cutie? Won’t you miss playing with your friends?”

“Yes I’m sure,” he answered right away. “I don’t want to do it again, I really don’t, okay, so please stop asking.” His expression was every bit as glum and unwavering as it was the first time he said it and every time after that she pressed him about it.

There wasn’t going to be any convincing him; Callie wished she could since she herself would’ve liked to play with him again, and she was certain his friends would to. Respecting his wishes took precedence over her wants, she knew, so she said, “Well okay, either way we’re done training! You know what to do now so even without using your Special Energy you can still meditate and breathe to help relax!”

He agreed, “Yeah,” and felt at his side where his Ink Gland was. For the first time in forever he was feeling very little pain there, and not only that but his whole body wasn’t so tight, and his brain wasn’t clouded by dismal, hopelessness anymore. “Who would’ve thought that’d be the cure to fixing my Ink Gland.”

“It’s not a cure, Cutie,” Callie informed, cupping his shoulder. On the subject of health, she had a stern tone, “Your mom told me the stress and anxiety you have is persistent so it’s not just going to be fixed with everything we’ve done.” That would’ve killed his positive mood but she continued, “But they’re tools to help you manage it all better and have it not hurt you as much as it could, just like the medicine your doctor gave you.”

As much as he wished it could’ve been the cure, he conceded, “You’re right.” He knew she was right; living with this disability was just how things were.

She still had plenty of optimism though, “But keep doing everything you need to and your ink will start flowing again, and you’ll be all back to normal, Cutie.”

“Yeah—YEAH,” Lee balled up both of his tiny fists to show just how ready and absolutely certain he was, “I can, I’m gonna, I will!”

Hearing and seeing her friend regaining that fervor and hope she always loved made her so happy that Callie brushed her eye with the back of her hand. “I want you to have something,” she said, unfastening her left earring and held it out to him, “Take this.”

She dropped it into Lee’s flat open palm where he peered at it with the most dumbfounded stare, “Your earring, but, why, me, y-you’re giving this to me?”

“That’s right,” she replied, “Keep it to make sure you don’t forget everything we did here.” He fixed the hoop to his ear and with that she tightly embraced him, lifting the little squid off his feet, hugging him against her. “Promise me you’ll remember too that no matter where you are or where I am and no matter what happens-- I’ll always believe in you, Cutie.” With a kiss on the cheek to seal the deal, she set him back down.

“I, haa, I-I promise, Callie,” flushed in the face and grinning like a fool, he repeated, “I promise!”

Hand-in-hand, the two left Octo Valley and Lee returned to his regular life. Callie had other matters to attend to, all of which concerned her career so Lee was left alone to continue their training. Every day he made sure breathing, stretching, and meditating. The pain of his tightly clenched ink gland faded away and his doctor even confirmed that his own ink was slowly but surely circulating through his system. As happy as Lee was, he couldn’t hope to match the joy and relief his mom had.

Overtime with the relaxation of his body, everything else began to loosen and regain its proper proportions. For awhile it looked a bit silly that he had comically long legs compared to the rest of his body but it all evened out in the end.

There was one problem though. Throughout the whole recovery process, Lee tried continuously to relay his progress to Callie. His phone calls went unanswered, and messages went unread. He did see her on TV; forging a new career path by taking on acting roles, guest starring in and hosting variety programs which he was happy to see—but a part of him felt so lost without communicating with her. Janine said, “She’s a very busy celebrity you’ve got to understand she’s probably got a lot to do. She probably is missing you just as much as you’re missing her.” Maybe that was true but still, he yearned so badly just to talk to her again

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months; in that time Lee managed to make a full recovery. He looked like the same old Lee Squidly he had always been but the only trouble was he didn’t do much like he used to. He made good on his promise never to play Turf Wars again but aside from going to school he had nothing really going on.

What were his other friends doing?

What was happening in Shee-Booyah and Inkopolis all-together?

He knew a new hub called Inkopolis Square was being constructed for the next season of Turf Battles but he paid very little attention to it.

Even though he was physically and mentally better he felt lost, so very lost emotionally.

I miss you, Callie…

To Be Continued…

#splatoon #nintendo #splatoon 2 #nintendo switch #inkling oc #fan fiction #lee squidly

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themockingcrows · 7 years

Text

Whisper Just For Me: Ch. 10 - Scattered Pieces

Following a traumatic experience, you find your attention divided in twenty directions at once while you pick up the pieces of your lost evening and ruined day. You're certain you have all the pieces accounted for and it's time to finally take a rest.. till you realize the most important piece has fallen through the cracks. You can only hope you can find him before it's too late. This chapter is SFW cw: vehicular accident, medical treatment Ao3 Mirror: [X]

The driving hadn't been nearly as hard as you thought it would be once you took into consideration the brief disconnect of time from realization of what needed to be done to actually fulfilling the act with a borrowed body. The finesse wasn't there, but driving was indeed happening to the tune of a soft radio and John's panicked voice in your ears. …. DAVE. Dave, Dave this is bad, Dave pull over what if something happens. Am I dying? Am I dead?? ….

You wanted so badly to comfort him, but no amount of talking was going to comfort that fear. No. No, nothing was going to happen, John. Everything was just fine. You had this entirely in control.

The oncoming car did not have it in control.

A single moment was all it took, oncoming driver unaware of your vehicle as they pulled out onto the road, failing to look before springing into action, winding up in front of you before you could even hope to slam on the brakes and stop. You jerked the wheel sharply to the left, tried to lessen the impact, tried to do anything that your panic would allow you to do. Everything was going wrong, everything was going wrong oh God you couldn't think of how to make this be a bad dream.

One second you were driving. The next, you were becoming weightless as you heard John's scream come first from inside your head, then outside of it as the sound of metal grinding on metal rang out alongside a crunch. A sharp squeal of tires and John screaming. You screaming. Your borrowed voice and John's melded together before pain hit you and things went black as the final attempts to escape this situation failed.

You didn't remember your own death, and yet your last thoughts were a prayer that you weren't about to remember John's as you raised your hand to clasp tight at the pendant and tug the chain taught without even thinking.

- - - - - -

Everything ached. There was a throb to your head that you began noticing was strong enough that your heart beating made everything feel too warm for a moment. You saw colors pulse behind your eyelids with every hint of a thought. Each inch of your body was in painful stasis.. and at least one potential broken bone judging from the radiating field of Nope that came from your right leg. Make that two. Your nose ached as if someone had punched you full force, and attempts to breathe out of it instead of your mouth was impossible. Something felt lodged in there, or swollen.. Hard to tell.

You finally opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling with its yellow tinted light and breathed deep the scent of bottled air and disinfectant. Curtains encircled your rooms borders, keeping it safe from an open hallway that lay beyond your blanket clad feet if your guesses about the unseen approaching and departing footsteps were right. Your glasses weren't on, so you couldn't be positive about anything beyond these blurred shapes and fuzzy edged lines.

A machine softly chirped just behind the edge of your bed, and after a bit more looking you realized just what all you were hooked up to. A pulse-ox clip covered your finger, bulky but barely there pressure of plastic letting them keep track of your vitals. The coil of an IV was stuck in the back of your hand and taped in place, which also explained why your arm felt so chilled. You were kind of glad you couldn't see clearly, able to resist the temptation to lift the blankets covering you to try looking down at your leg, but you appeased yourself by lifting a hand up to gently test your nose. Aside from pain and the stuffy feeling, it seemed that there was a bandage setup on your nose and over the edges of your cheeks to guard the bridge.

“John!” a familiar voice said from somewhere to your right. Shit, you hadn't even noticed anyone else was here, let alone so close. You blinked a few times in quick succession as Jade surged into view, crisper the closer she came. “Oh, John, you're finally awake again, I was -this- close to pinching you to wake you up. How do you feel? Do you need more painkiller? Should I call the nurse?”

“Again?” you asked quietly, racking your brain. You were pretty sure you'd remember being in the hospital, let alone getting here. “We were at the aquarium and then.... Jade, how'd you get here?”

“I'm your emergency contact on things, remember? Me and your dad? I think he might have been busy or his phone was on silent, but I answered after the first ring or two,” she said while rising from the chair she'd been inhabiting, setting aside her book and phone for now before leaning over you and hugging you tight as a vice. “It was a hell of a wreck, you're lucky you got out of it with a messed up leg and a bump on your head... What even happened, were you speeding? The other person's a bit messed up from their airbag, but they were on the far side. Could've been much worse.”

Oh thank God, there hadn't been any deaths. “My car..”

“Basically totaled, yeah, they had to cut the door to get you out, it wouldn't open right. We'll figure out what to do about that later though.”

“I don't.. I don't remember any of that,” you said with a frown, brows furrowing. “How long was I sleeping?”

“A few hours, not too long from what they told me. You were plenty awake and worked up when you first got in apparently, but you started napping before I got here. I've been waiting for you to wake back up this whole time. Augh, have you got any idea how scary it is to get a call from a hospital like that? Worded all ambiguous like you might be on your death bed and they don't want me to panic on the way over,” she said, and your chest clenched painfully when her words slowed to a wobble and her wide eyes filled with tears. Fuck. She hardly ever cried, shit, fuck, what had those idiots SAID? Who were you going to complain to later about unnecessarily freaking out your family? Who was going to taste your fists once you could get up and about?

“Shhh, I made it though, right? I'm okay now!” you tried to say hurriedly, awkward about how to fix things aside from pointing out the good side, tried to point out the positives and run a wild headlong gamut to keep the bad as far away as humanly possible. You were just one guy, though, and it didn't always work.

Jade flapped at your attempts to be soothing and removed her glasses so she could rub her sleeve over her eyes and dry them, snorting to stop her snuffles before they could get worse.

“Don't even do that! Don't, it's okay, it just kind of hit,” she said with one more huffed snort to clear her sinuses and breathe easier. “Oh, right, right. Your dad knows what happened but he's not getting home till late apparently, he had to go out of state for business and the drive back's taking a while. I don't think they're going to admit you, but they were kind of ambiguous.. Once we're sure one way or the other we can tell him to either come here or go to your place when he's free. Sound good? I don't even know how long they're going to drag their feet just keeping you in the emergency room, a ton more people have come in and things have sounded hectic just since I got here.”

“Sound good, more like sounds -great-. I hope you at least kept him calm?”

“Calm enough as anyone can be after getting a message,” Jade sighed. “Damage done but at least soothed a bit. You waking back up and not showing any bad signs is great. You're all alert and making sense.”

You spent some time chitchatting, keeping each other calm and then going back to the usual routine of snarking and joking around. Your glasses frames had snapped from the airbag, but with a bit of medical tape and a promise to get your spares later or order another set, the gift of sight was returned to you. After more brief visits from a nurse checking on you over the course of a few hours, and administering some more exams, a doctor came in and discussed options with your x-rays in hand, and eventually got you sent off to get a cast put on. The break didn't seem serious enough to require surgery and there hadn't seemed to be any clots or venous damage, but there would be a few long months of being in a cast before you'd be given the okay to walk normally once more. Jade convinced you to go for a lighter blue cast on the premise of her wanting to draw all over it and dark blue not being good without paint markers on hand. It seemed you'd gotten exceptionally lucky. A broken leg, a nose that had to be re-set and bandaged, cuts and bruises along your face and forearms from the airbag, whiplash and mild concussion. Considering how terrible everything could have gone from start to finish, you were grateful for how things went. More updates to your father via Jade were met with excited return messages, happy that you weren't going to be facing any surgeries or more imminent problems and promising that he'd be sure to cook some of your favorite foods for you over the coming weeks while you healed.

With a prescription for pain medicine, a fresh set of crutches and several numbers to call related to followup care and information left by the police relating to your car, you finally were released to the world again with the recommendation of coming back if certain symptoms or signs began to appear. No need to end up in ICU over being stubborn, right?

Jade laughed at your awkward gait but helped stabilize you when you wobbled, unpracticed and impatient to get the pressure off your palms and armpits. It was quite a feat to get back home in the darkness and settled, but with Jade helping, everything went just fine. You were given access to remotes and fruit juice, and she even helped set up some snacks to keep near you on a tray, ready and waiting when hunger struck so you wouldn't have to hobble all the way to the kitchen and back with something clutched in your teeth at three in the morning.

It took till you were almost entirely settled, drowsing and relaxed and finally cozy to realize that something was off.

“... Dave?”

Jade looked over, then around, waiting for the usual thump or rush of breeze. When none came, she looked back towards you as you started to pat at your chest in a panic.

“Jade? Jade, where's the pendant?”

“It might be in the bag your other things were in, like your wallet and stuff,” she said, going to snag the plastic bag emblazoned with the hospital's logo, rooting through it. “..Hm. Wallet, paperwork.. Cast care. Pamphlets.. I'm not seeing it in here. When did you last have it on? The hospital?”

With growing alarm, you sat more upright and glanced around, rubbing at the part of your chest where the pendant usually sat. After having Dave around for so long as a constant force, suddenly not having him nearby felt... wrong.

“I don't remember being at the hospital before I woke up. Where could it have gone? Would it still be in the car? I had it under my shirt all day, and I don't think Dave took it out when we switched..”

Jade frowned a bit. “Switched?”

“Yeah, we uh. ..I don't know how, but it's like he was in control of my body for a while? I don't know how it happened and it wasn't on purpose, don't even get that look on your face,” you instantly followed up, noticing the wariness in Jade's eyes increase. “We were on a date and something happened and suddenly he was in control of my body and I was just kind of stuck watching everything happen.”

“Well, could it be in reverse again then? Maybe you absorbed him or something during the wreck,” she said, lifting a finger to signal she needed a moment after her cell began to chirp insistently from her pocket. “Just a second, John, let me go take this.”

“Sure, take your time,” you say, trying to wrack your brain harder. Where the hell could it have gone? If Dave wasn't here, then you had exceeded the range of the pendant in one way or another. Maybe you could get Jade to check her car, make sure it hadn't slipped there. Or call the hospital to check and see if they'd spotted it. Really, the best option would be for you to be in different spaces personally, since you could see Dave so clearly now, but you weren't sure you were up to it or if it would really be a good idea.

..When had you last seem him, though? Before the car accident for sure, he'd been driving and it was terrifying to be in a moving vehicle with no sense of the boundaries of your own body anymore. You couldn't remember being in the hospital prior to waking up with Jade at your side, which was apparently nothing shocking according to the doctor. Traumatic incidents, repressed thoughts that may probably come back or may be lost forever. Sounded a bit weird to you considering it was just a broken leg, but then again you were into the fine art of parapsychology, not the intricacies of standardized psychology and the depth and breadth of variances for trauma responses. None of which were being helpful with remembering the last time the pendant had been around your body's neck.

“John? Your dad says he's willing to come this way if you want, but because it's so late he wanted to be sure you felt up to it. Backup plan is to bust in with a waffle iron in the morning,” Jade said, hand over her phone as she popped his head around the corner to pass along the information.

“What? Waffles? Uh, yeah that might be better if he's okay with it. I don't want him to go straight from being on the road to here, especially if I was going to maybe sleep soon.”

“Maybe sleep? Were you planning on staying up now that you're back?” she asked, hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to muffle her words. “Sure thing. I'll pass it on,” Jade promised as she ducked back around the corner.

You had to get up. You needed to know where Dave was. There was no way you could sit idly by and rest or relax knowing that the last time you'd been able to talk, things have been very very strange. What if he was still in the wreck with the pendant? What if it had been stolen? Who would even steal from an emergency patient, you wondered, but didn't have to think too hard. The world was full of good people who just wanted to help, but the world also held a lot of people who really should reconsider their job. How would you even find him if a theft HAD happened? How could he get hold of you?

While Jade was busy, you reached for your crutches again and struggled to get yourself up with only a few hard wobbles and a pained wince soon as your foot went downward. You didn't thunk it on the floor at least, but the difference between it being up and down was staggering as the difference between being hooked to an IV full of painkiller and fluids and coming down from it with only tablets to see you through your recovery for the foreseeable future. The aching throb slowly starting up was a pretty good indication of how bad this could get... you were glad you couldn't remember the actual break at all.

Dave wasn't in the apartment. Maybe he was down by the car? Or.. Or maybe at the hospital still, where was your phone? Jade didn't say it was in the bag, maybe it was but was out of sight. Or maybe it'd been in the car still? Oh, god. Your mind raced a million miles an hour as you locked up, looking between the plastic hospital bag and the front door, trying to debate your options.

“John, what the hell are you doing up? Couch! Go put your foot back up and lay back, you just got home, don't make things worse so you HAVE to go back!” Jade said as she returned, phone call apparently done in time to bust you red handed. “What's so important that you're needing up right this second, do you need the bathroom or something?”

“No! No, Jade, we need to go back to the hospital. Or my car. Or.. Or the curb by YOUR car, I don't know, we need to move though,” you insist, taking a determined crutch step towards the door before Jade could block you and try once more to guide you back to the couch. “Jade come on, we need to find Dave! I don't know where he is, this is important, it could be really bad!”

“What could be really bad? John, he's dead, I don't think he can really get any deader, and I'm sure he can at least wait for a little longer wherever he's at,” she urged. “It should be fine to wait till morning. I'll call the hospital, see if they have it in lost and found or something, let them know to keep an eye out and we can check back when it's actually morning. Maybe go from there after your dad visits. Sound good?”

You waver. Your leg is starting to throb even more, and the fire is racing up to your hip, down to your ankle, and lighting up more panic in the back of your mind. You were also realizing you were absolutely exhausted. What time even was it? Three am? Four? Did it even matter when you were this tired? Time had blurred the longer you had been in the hospital, and even now it was a bit blurry when you tried to focus on it and take in just how much time had passed between the normal wonderful morning and afternoon to now. “...But.. I can't just leave him somewhere, he's probably worried or scared. What if the last time he saw me I was unconscious or getting moved into an ambulance or something?” you asked, resisting a bit more before allowing Jade to gently escort you back to the couch.

“Dave's a grown dead person, he can be patient, John. Surely he'd be able to tell if you died?” Jade pointed out. “Yes, he's important, but right now you're hurt and I don't think he'd like you hurting yourself more for him. Wherever he is, he'll still be there in the morning, I'll be sure to find him with you okay?”

You sank back on the sofa and lifted your leg hurriedly to its formerly propped up position, relief flooding you again and fatigue roaring behind your eyes. That little bit had sapped more strength than you thought. Holy shit, you could sleep for a fucking week..

“...Yeah. Yeah, you're right Jade. I'm just worried,” you muttered, not protesting when she came to carefully take your glasses off and set the damaged frames aside on the coffee table. “I don't want him to be alone and scared somewhere, I want him here with me.”

She grinned a bit, at least you're pretty sure she did. Jade was close enough to make out the fuzzy edges of her mouth, and the position changed.

“You really do care about him, huh.”

“Well, yeah. I love him, Jade, I'm not kidding about that. I love him and I'm worried and I don't want him upset,” you say, pausing to let out a yawn that snuck up on you from behind and started to steal your consciousness away. “I don't want him alone anywhere ever again, if he doesn't get a say in it.”

“Just try to get a bit of rest right now,” she urged. “Your dad'll be here in the morning, you'll get your medicine in you again, and we'll be able to go find Dave. I'm going to crash in your room since the couch has you for now, okay? If you need me just holler. Your crutches are by the side of the couch.” “Where's my phone?” “I think it might have been in your car, let me go check your pockets,” Jade said, going back to the plastic to rummage around, smiling when she found it. “Oh hey, only a crack on the screen, not bad,” she said. “Do you want me to plug it in for you?”

“...Yeah. Yeah that might be better. Turn off the alarm, I don't want it on for the usual time, I don't think you'd appreciate lurching awake to that loud of a remix.”

“I figured not,” she said with a snort, pausing to rummage in your pant's pockets once more just in case the pendant was somehow there. Maybe Dave just wasn't talking? Could ghosts get hurt in accidents? There'd been talk of a 'switch', and such an unknown thing was making her more cautious. No dice. Damn.

Jade sighed and finally switched the light off, clunking along softly to the bathroom, then to your room after to continue shuffling around to get things plugged in and organized. You heard her toss and turn a bit to get comfortable, your own mind wandering in the dark to the tune of your rising and falling breaths.

… It was so quiet here without Dave rustling papers and knocking things over. It -felt- wrong. There was no cold kiss to your cheek, or pressure on your chest as he moved around, no glints of red at the corner of your eye. Jade was so close, but you still felt lonesome. Dave had been a constant in your life for so long now that suddenly having him gone was just... awful. You grimace and try to fight the bubble of anxiety in your chest and stomach down enough to sleep, grateful when your dreams picked up the slack and took you under.

#Homestuck #John Egbert #Jade Harley #this fic is a fic full of #johndave #my fic

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