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livingmybestfictionallife · 4 years ago

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What If?

Request from @chanandlersstuff: Hii, it's me, again. I want to request another Mgk imagine. Something like he goes to a new bar in the city and discovers that the owner is his childhood sweetheart or his first crush, the reader, and they can kiss or something like that. I love how you write and that's why I will ask you for a lots of requests

A/N: Thank you so much for your support! :) I hope you enjoy this one! Also, idk where Cassie and her mother reside. I assume it’s Cleveland, so that’s what it’s going to be in this story. ALSO, a bit of Pantera/Damageplan trivia is included as part of the plot of the story simply because I was listening to it and realized this takes place in Ohio--you’ll see why it’s important if you don’t already know. Hope you enjoy!

A/N part 2: If you ever want to be tagged in something, send me an ask or a message! :)

December 8th, 2004 was always a day that stood out to Colson, simply because it was the biggest ‘What if?’ in his life. He’d experienced too much heartache in his youth and would continue to face pain and anguish throughout his adolescence and early adulthood, and he had so many things that he would reflect back on and wonder what could have happened to make things go differently? What could he have done better? What kind of divine intervention would have been needed? What if he’d just gone home? What if he decided to hang out with someone else?

It seemed that as he reached thirty, he became more enamored with laying these what if questions to rest. He could spend the rest of his life wondering about what would happen had he not fucked something up or had something just gone a different direction, or he could accept that each of those mishaps had led him to the man he was today. He was happy with his life, and for the first time in a long time, he could admit that he was truly happy; he had a beautiful, happy, and healthy daughter that was the light of his world, a successful fifth studio album that blew away the punk and rock charts, and he was in what had to be the healthiest relationship in his life with a gorgeous woman that he loved. Yet still, there was one what if that refused to escape his mind: what if December 8th, 2004 went differently?

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

Cassie had told her father over a thanksgiving dinner in Los Angeles about her school’s Winter Talent Show, and that she would be performing a song off her father’s album as a tribute to her late grandfather. Colson couldn’t refrain from tearing up as his daughter told him this and promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

He’d shown up to Cassie’s talent show with a bouquet of flowers and a couple of friends he bothered to still talk to after all these years. His eyes glistened with proud, sorrow-ridden tears as he listened to the angel he had for a child sing his lyrics--with school appropriate revisions made--about the struggles he faced with his father since he was about her age. Of all the what ifs that passed through his mind, a lot had to do with his ability to be a good father for Cassie, and every second he spends with her reminds him that she is so much better of a person than he ever was at her age, and it was in that pride that he allowed a solitary tear to fall. He knew his father was proud of Cassie as well as she sang Lonely for her school, and when the show was over, he wrapped his daughter in the tightest hug he could, terrified of the fact that someday, he wouldn’t be around to hold her anymore.

It seemed death was always prevalent in his life; after all it was a death that caused the biggest what if in his mind to continue to pester him.

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

(Y/N) paced around the densely populated room and watched not only the patrons, but the employees as well. She’d never even thought of opening a bar, in fact, she never considered being an entrepreneur of any sort, but when the opportunity came, she realized she’d have to be a fool to turn it down. Music had always been a passion of hers; she’d performed in small garage bands with friends, played local shows throughout high school and college, and she even got a degree in music production in hopes of working with a recording studio or record label. (Y/N) had followed this dream and worked at a Bad Racket Recording Studio since 2012, about three years after the studio opened.

It wasn’t until about a year ago that a friend got her in contact with someone who was looking to co-own a bar and turn it into a music venue for local bands. She loved the idea of promoting local bands and musicians, especially since she’d spent the past seven years watching people bring their dreams to life through recording. Maybe it was time to help them realize another dream, the dream of performance.

The reverberations of heavy guitar and drums pulsed through her heart and bones as the performing artist tonight began a cover of Damageplan’s ‘Breathing New Life’. Her heart skipped a beat inadvertently as her mind became lost in the music that electrified the air around her. As an early teen, she’d found solace in music of all genres, but her favorite had been the rock/grunge/metal scene. Pantera had been one of her father’s favorite bands, and so she grew up with a fondness of the musical stylings of the two Abbott brothers from Texas. A lot of kids her age couldn’t understand what was so appealing about Pantera to her--they assumed that just because her parents listened to it she was forced to as well and therefore didn’t know what good music was--but there was always one kid who understood.

One blonde boy would always make sure to ask (y/n) what new music she’d found, if she’d heard of the drama that was going down between bands, and if she’d wanted to listen to CDs together after school. She always responded with a smile before any words left her mouth to continue the conversation, and over the course of middle school, that blonde kid, who she’d known only in passing before, became her closest friend.

As (y/n)’s eyes continued to drift over the crowd, images of her childhood friend’s face flashed through her mind as her gaze came to rest on a tall man dressed in all black, with unruly blonde hair. Had he not been wearing his jacket around his waist and a short sleeved shirt that revealed his tattoos, (y/n) would have glossed over the man’s presence without a second look, but the I-71 North tattoo that was half-visible beneath the rolled up sleeve had given away the man’s identity. With a smile on her face and confidence in her stride, (y/n) approached the bar.

Colson had been in town for a few nights before he’d had enough of his old buddies bugging him about trying out a new bar called Panther’s Den. They continued to swear up and down about it having a nineties feel, and how maybe he should see about setting up a small performance for old-time sakes there. After about three days of this continuing pestering, he gave in and agreed to go to the bar. Together, the small group sat huddled together as they waited to order drinks when a woman approached them with an unforgettable smile pulled across her face.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” she called out over the band as she shifted her weight from one foot to another and waited for the man to bring his eyes to hers. She half expected to see the bloodshot, sleep-deprived, almost hallowed out expression he had worn from time to time in his youth, but when those bright blue eyes turned to face her, (y/n)’s smile grew as she looked into the healthy face of her long time friend.

“(Y/N),” Colson was quick to exclaim as he stretched out his arms and pulled the woman into his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Just running my business.”

“You manage this place?” Colson asked as he looked down into the woman’s eyes. She’d always been mesmerizing to him, although he could never put his finger on it. Maybe it had been how little she cared about what other people thought about her in school, or how badass her taste in music was to him. Maybe it was how supportive she was in him when he said he wanted to rap, or the way her eyes seemed to light up whenever a good riff stood out to her. Maybe it was the way she couldn’t help but nod her head to the beat of every song, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on a specific lyric, or the fact that she was his earliest supporter. Whatever it was that captivated him at thirteen was doing the same thing to him at thirty.

“I own it; well, co-own, technically, but I picked the name.” With a smirk, (y/n) lowered herself into the barstool beside Colson and watched as the posse that had surrounded him began to disappear.

“I definitely see the connection now,” he laughed as his eyes traced over the woman’s features. There was a lot that was different--she had less of a baby face that she had in school, seemed a bit more kind and lighthearted than when she was so doom and gloom back in the day, and wore a smile that used to take him what felt like hours of coercing to bring to her face. “How have you been?” Colson hated the question. Often he thought people would think he asked it just to compare his success to their current phase in life, but with (y/n) it came with a different kind of awkwardness that he would have to face.

“I’ve been doing well. My business partner and I got this place up and running last year and it’s been going pretty smoothly,” she admitted. “I was working with a recording studio for a long time before this, but nothing too exciting.” (Y/N) loved what she did and often didn’t have much to talk about with other people besides her work. Her personal life consisted of watched re-runs of TV shows that haven’t been on the air in years, entertaining herself and her pets at home, and not really making an attempt of finding new relationships--friendly or romantic.

“No guy in your life?” Colson found himself asking with an insecurity swelling in his chest that didn’t die down until she shook her head and dismissed whatever fears he didn’t realize he had.

“What about you? Dating Megan Fox must being something,” (y/n) said as she nudged Colson’s ribs with her elbow.

“Yeah,” Colson muttered as he tried to hide his face from (y/n) as he spoke. “She’s great, and I’m really happy.” His words were truthful in every sense of the matter, but that what if still tugged at his heart.

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

At twelve and thirteen-years-old, there’s no way to know what love feels like, so Colson tried to ignore the knots that came into his stomach or the words that got caught in his throat whenever he would hang out with (y/n). He ignored the burning in his chest whenever their faces touched while sharing the cheap headphones they used to listen to (y/n)’s CD player with, and buried the jittery feeling he had whenever he knew he had plans with (y/n) and was counting down the hours until seeing her. The only thing that forced him to come to terms with how he felt towards (y/n) was another boy in her class that offered his headphones over to her one day before school to listen to the newly released, Volume 2 box set from Motley Crue, which had just announced they were reuniting.

His blood boiled as he saw her hand brush against the other boy’s as she accepted the headphones and bobbed her head to the beat of whatever song was flooding her ears. It took Colson all of the courage his young self could muster to ask (y/n) to go on a date with him, and all of the money he had earned through small, odd-jobs to pay for the perfect date for this perfect girl.

He’d tried to ask two of his older friends who could drive to take him and (y/n) to Columbus, but wasn’t able to bribe them with enough money for them to agree. Eventually, he had to ask (y/n)’s father for help. His own dad was too busy working to be bothered with a middle school date, so he hoped the man who gave his daughter her love of music would be understanding. (Y/N)’s father found the young man’s idea heartwarming and fun, and agreed to take the pair to Columbus under the stipulation that he stayed to keep an eye on them. At that point, Colson was so relieved the date was panning out, that he didn’t care if her dad came along.

Excitement had overwhelmed both (y/n) and Colson as they embarked on the two hour drive from Cleveland to Columbus, but the time passed quickly through their loud singing, enthusiastic conversation, and (y/n)’s wild anticipation as Colson revealed to her that they were going to Columbus to see Damageplan perform live. He remembered an early conversation he’d had with (y/n) about how she’d love to see Pantera live, as well as the disappointment she had a year ago when the band broke up. Although it wasn’t the exact same as seeing her all-time favorite band, he’d hoped Damageplan, which the founders of Pantera formed after their breakup, would be a close second.

Had they not been caught in traffic, they would have gotten to the show on time. To this day, Colson and (y/n) were both sure the traffic had been a blessing in disguise. They wanted to be front and center for the first song, but that came with the possibility of losing their lives.

They pulled up to the venue about fifteen minutes late. “The show is hours long! We won’t miss much in fifteen minutes,” (y/n)’s father had continued to reassure the teenagers that sat together in the back seat of his car throughout the drive. However, as they pulled up to see ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars flooding the scene, he realized that they may have missed everything. After her father got out and talked to a few people who had remained at the venue--either to give statements to officers or simply because they were in too much shock to drive--he returned to the car where Colson and (y/n) waited, put the vehicle into drive, and pulled away from the scene. It was about twenty long, agonizing minutes of silence before he pulled over through a fast food drive through to order the teens food. With his voice low as they waited for burgers and French fries, he delivered the news to the pair sitting in his backseat. Dimebag Darrell was dead, and their lives had been spared by some traffic on I-71.

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

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened with us if we actually made it to the concert?” Colson found himself asking (y/n) as his fingertips picked at the label on his beer bottle.

“The possibility of getting shot crosses my mind,” (y/n) responded dryly as she leaned against the bar on her elbow.

“I mean, what if we made it to the venue and that guy didn’t show up--he never got on stage and killed all those people. What would have happened--with us?” Colson’s eyes never left (y/n). The question had plagued him since that night, followed by a million subsequent questions, such as, Why did I never ask her out again? Why did I see that as missing my shot?

“Well,” (y/n) began with a smile playing on her lips. “That would have been the best date of my entire life. Hands down, nothing could have ever topped it,” she said as her genuine smile curled even higher into a beaming grin that made Colson weak. “I would have probably found a way to give you a kiss whenever my dad wasn’t looking, just to show you how much I appreciated not only your plan for the date, but also you as a person, my best friend, and my biggest crush back then.”

“If I would have asked you out again would you have said ‘yes,’ even after what actually happened?” He was hesitant to receive her answer; he didn’t want to know he had wasted so much time wondering if he missed out on the relationship he was meant to be in by being too cowardly to ask. As his eyes met the soft smile of the woman that stood beside him, his heart sank into his stomach and his stomach turned to lead.

“Yeah, I would have,” she admitted. “You were always there for me, Colson, and I kind of anticipated you asking me out again. You were my favorite person to be around, and I’m so proud of you for chasing your dreams.”

“But how much different would my life be if you were beside me the whole time?” He seemed defiant in his question, as if his tone could change the past and alter the present so he could see the difference in his life like comparing two ‘find-the-difference’ pages from a Highlight’s book.

“You wouldn’t have Cassie,” (y/n) stated with a matter-of-fact tone, “and I know how much you love that child.” Colson smiled at the mention of his daughter, and knew her statement to be true. If (y/n) was around, he would have never met Emma and Cassie would have never been born. “You would have still gone off on your own and done what you wanted to. Having me as your girlfriend wouldn’t have changed you wanting to be with models, I couldn’t ever keep you from something you set your mind to, so the drugs would have pulled us apart. In your own opinion, would I still be your friend if I saw everything you’ve done?” With a smirk and a chuckle, Colson reached out for (y/n)’s arm and gentled rested his hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t know if I would still be my friend. But I’m turning around from a lot of the stupid shit I used to do. You know, mellowing out with age,” he laughed and earned a small smirk from the girl that got away. “What about who I am now? How do you feel about him?”

The words came from his mouth with a solemn look on his face as he scanned the woman’s appearance. He still loved her, and a big part of him knew he would never stop loving her. After all, how could he? He never got the opportunity to see where he and (y/n) would have gone. Would they have a child of their own? Would he have listened to her if she pestered him or threatened to leave when it came to the drugs? Would he have even felt he needed them? All they could do was speculate, and speculation wasn’t enough for him. He wanted an ending on their relationship, one way or another, he needed to know. This open-ended bullshit was eating at him every waking second of his life since December 8th, 2004, and he needed to have her tell him it would have never worked, then he could move on.

“You’ve always been incredible to me,” (y/n)’s softened voice admitted as she gazed up at the man she’d loved since her youth. “And you always will be, but you have Megan, and I know you--you’re happy. Don’t ruin what is a great thing over something that could have been, regardless of how either of us feel.” (Y/N) could feel her heart sinking and her eyes ache as they threatened to fill with tears.

All she’d ever wanted was for him to walk in here, admit his feelings for her, and live some fan-fiction reality of a happily ever after, but the real world was much more cruel. People move on, and even if they don’t fully move on emotionally, they don’t sit around waiting forever. Colson hadn’t remained single in the sixteen years between their first almost date, and she never expected him to. The least she could do was wish happiness onto him and be happy for him when he found it. “I think you may have had a bit too much to drink, Col,” she sighed as she pushed the glass of liquor that sat in front of him aside. Throughout their reminiscing and conversation, he continued to order drink after drink to drown the anxiety of seeing her, and (y/n) could tell it was getting to his head. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret when you sober up.”

“I need to know, (y/n),” he stated in a firm and exasperated gasp as they pair disappeared into her office so that he could sober up while she collected his friends to take him back to wherever he was staying.

“Colson--”

“Please,” his gentle blue eyes were staring down intently at (y/n)’s soul, a soul filled with hope and warmth clouded with traumas of her own, a soul that always felt tethered to his. With a deep breath and gentle sigh, she pulled herself onto her toes, gently rested her hands against his chest and shoulder, and closed her eyes as her lips found his.

Their kiss was simple, something a pair of middle school kids would have become so giddy over having done, but as adults, it was damn near impossible to ignore her heart jumping into her throat, the way his hands felt on her hips, how soft her lips were against his, how desperate he was to deepen the kiss, to sweep his tongue across her lips and lean her against a wall to feel her pressed against him. (Y/N) had pulled away from Colson before he could find the courage to do what he’d always wanted, and the pair stood toe to toe with electricity buzzing in their heads as they continued to reflect back on the past few seconds. Neither had felt that way with another person before, and neither were certain they would ever feel that way again, because Colson was happy, and Megan didn’t deserve to be thrown aside over the possibility of all the what ifs he had in regards to (y/n).

She gently bit down on her lip and stared at the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid looking Colson in the eyes, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to contain herself if he decided he wanted more. Thankfully, he took the hint and pulled (y/n) into a gentle hug before he turned rather clumsily on his heel to catch up with his friends.

“You’re always welcome here, Colson,” (y/n) called out before he left her sight, hoping he would understand her on the deeper level they always were able to converse with one another on.

“Thanks, (y/n),” he said in return as he held the door to her office gently in his hands. “I’ll try to come back again when I’m not so busy.” A coy smile played on both of their faces once the door was placed between them, and hope continued to spring from both of their chests.

Colson left the Panther’s Den feeling even more confused by the what ifs than he had initially been, and the sensation of the kiss had left him feeling even more light-headed and puzzled than any alcohol or overthinking could cause. In their silences and stolen glances, in the touch of their lips and how each other felt beneath the other’s hands, Colson knew whatever electricity between them, whatever spiritual connection, or tethering of souls would never go away. It was a matter of timing for the pair, thirteen wasn’t the right time for them to get together and it was deflected in a gruesome way, but whatever the temptress of time was planning for Colson and (y/n), he knew he was ready to fall, so he placed their fate in the hands of life, and continued down the street with the gentle graze of her lips pressing like a phantom against his own.

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symphonic-scream · 4 years ago

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Here's an expanded scene idea for soulmate Julix.

---

In this world you get your soulmate mark when you both "prove" yourself through an action, task, or promise. For many this can be as simple as a well thought out gift to someone you might care about, to a promise to be best friends forever becoming a sign of so much more. There really was no limit to the stories you'd hear of how marks could appear as everyone had their own way of expressing themselves.

Of course for Kim, he found that his prefered proof of love to be in challanges and dares. In his own words "what could be a better sign of love than to throw your whole self into a situation so ridiculous or embarrassing that it'll prove there's nothing you wouldn't do for someone."

Alix, on the other hand, felt that it was a little crazy to just challange random people to dares, or more often, have people give HIM the dares, but given that's how he discovered his bonds with both Ondine and Max, she couldn't really say it'd never work. Maybe that's why on what should have been a relatively stress-free day at the skate park, she was now having to deal with yet another of Kim's "Dare-athons" where he tried to get anyone and everyone to play the biggest games of dare and dare most people had ever seen.

They've been going at it for a while, and while there was a decent sized crowd enjoying the fun, most had already taken a turn a two, Alix herself even joining in if anyone tried directly challanging her. The only one who hadn't, or at the very least the only one Alix bothered noticing, was the tranquil goth teen sitting in the shade of a large black umbrella. Alix would never admit it to anyone, but she never help but notice the one girl most thought faded into the background. It might be the historian in her blood, but she couldn't shake the thought that girls like Juleka were the reason people carved statues.

Shaking herself free of those thoughts, she was glad the heat and sweat would hide the blush speeding across her face. Unfortunately it seemed she didn't free herself from her daydreams quick enough and the ever opertunistic Kim followed her line of sight right to Juleka. She could recognize that look in his eye that oh so perfectly matched the accompanied shit eating grin and like hell was she going to let the big lug, best friend or not, try and drag the goth into his shenanigans. So, she did the only thing she could think of, and beat him to the punch.

When she rushed over to the goth on her board, her only thought was to stop Kim, so she really wasn't prepared for what to do when was actually face to face with the girl. A face that was now looking at her own, crimson irises full of curiosity and Alix could only imagine was amusement.

"what's got you in a hurry to reach my little patch of shade, speedster?" Juleka asked her and it took Alix a moment to remeber how to speak.

"O-oh um , you've probably been watching the dares, and we'll... it looks like Kim noticed you haven't really tried yourself so I thought I'd probably ask you an easy one so Kim drag you into anything insane." Alix replied.

"Sounds like you really are a hero come to rescue me" Juleka chuckled at the shy and awkward energy coming from the normally bold girl. "So what does my rescuer recomend?"

Alix's brain short circuted for a moment as she scrambled for something she ask the goth to try, when the answer came to her the moment she looked down.

"Well... We are in a skate park, how about I teach you the basics on my board?" Alix said.

"Sure, could be fun" Juleka reached out her hand and Alix couldn't help the little jolt she felt touching Juleka's had as she pulled her up.

They spent the better part of an hour together like that. Alix flowed back into her natural rythym as she taught juleka the basics. Alix secretly prided herself on only slightly blushing everytime the two touched. When it felt like Juleka had all the basics down she surprised Alix with a challange of her own.

"it's only fair" Juleka replied to Alix's curiosity. "how about this, since you've been such a good teacher, let's test your lessons out. If I manage to land a trick all on my own, you answer one question of mine."

"What's the question?" Alix couldn't help but ask.

"there's no fun if I just tell you. Besides, there's something I want to test first."

Deeply curious but otherwise seeing now real problem with it Alix accepted the challange. Juleka began slow and steady, putting extra emphasis into the lessons Alix taught her. But then Juleka turned around and with a wink she began to speed up. The wind made her hair flow like a river of obsidian sand and like a gust Juleka flew twoards the ramps and half pipes and to the complete and utter shock to Alix, Juleka began to SHRED. Like a goddess of wheels juleka tore through the park and landed incredible stunts at every opportunity. Alix was stunned as she watched poetry in motion from the girl who would seldom utter a word. She lost track of time as she watched juleka up until the moment she returned.

"What was that?!" Alix shouted in disbelief and excitement.

"You've met Luka right? Bro had a massive skater phase and I learned how to skateboard to spend time with him" Juleka replied.

"that was amazing, but if you already knew how to skate then why didn't you say anything when I was teaching you?"

"couldn't resist the chance to spend some time with you, besides it was a good excuse for you to accept my challange" Juleka took Alix's hand in her own placed a small kiss on the back of it. From there a small glow appeared on the back of both of their hands and an image appeared, a large black unbrela and skateboard made of its shade. Alix couldn't breath as she looked up and saw the gorgeous smile on Juleka's face just radiating pure joy. "I think now is a good time to ask that question."

"O-oh and what's that?" Alix managed to ask as her heart beat like a drum.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

---

Ok so im not sure how good this came out as I think juelka came out a little ooc and there might be some typos from writing this late and on my phone but i hope you enjoy it.

THIS IS SO SICK IM SCREAMING I LOVE IT SO MUCH

#alix kubdel #juleka couffaine #julix #submission

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partyinthemysterymachine · 5 years ago

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in which i have a lot of words to say about @storyweaverofgondor ‘s “Tugger is older than Munkustrap” theory

so here is my take:

((brief note: i don’t think tribe members spend all their time in the Junkyard, of course. they all have lives outside of it and do their own thing and have experiences. i realized a lot of the way this is written makes it sound like they’re always there. it’s important for me to mention, i reckon, that Tugger and Macavity spend a decent amount of time on the outside, as it directly influences so many of their attributes. wink wonk.))

i imagine Tugger is very keen. like i mentioned in the post, he can read people very well. he liked to people watch, and still does, and in it he picked up some good skills in figuring others out. this was one of the things that Deut saw in him that would make him a valuable protector: Tugger watched.

Deut saw Tugger become a chameleon. it wasn’t that his open and bold personality was fake. he was very genuine; what you see is what you get. because of that, it was harder for other Jellicles to regard him as someone capable of appropriate seriousness. he couldn’t at all be certain how intuitive Tugger was to some of these opinions, but considering his hidden talents, it’d probably been common knowledge to him for a long time.

i think Tugger had shown initiative more than a handful of times. older members of the tribe gossiped and sighed about him, but could not ignore that he would make a fine Protector. it was a lot of back and forth. Tugger didn’t mind; all the talk was interesting. he’d take it back to Deut and they’d have a laugh about it, or maybe a frank discussion followed by heavy awkwardness in knowing what in Tugger’s future.

he loved the idea of being the Protector. “proving” others wrong didn’t matter to him; it wasn’t ever about that. Tugger embodied “i don’t give two shits about anyone’s opinion”. he was self-assured, very easygoing, sincere; things rolled right off his back. if they didn’t, well— you’d never know. the eldest was patient and calm, no matter what his ostentatious personality had to say about it. he’s level headed.

Tugger and Macavity have had a really strange relationship. they’re about two years apart. from the very beginning they’d been side-eyeing one other. it seemed like they never quite thought what to make of his brother. they didn’t outright hate each other at any one point. they didn’t have explosive arguments. they didn’t have any really big problems. (just the little ones; Tugger used Mac’s favorite cup, Mac wouldn’t stop touching Tugger’s stuff, Tugger sneezed, Mac had the audacity have more fun with a toy than Tugger did, dad make him stop staring at me, well he stared at me first! etc was a part of their kitten years.)

as they got older, they still appeared to be having some trouble processing each other. for all terms and purposes their relationship just looked strange. they always looked kind of leery of the other. ask Tugger about it, he’d just shrug and say, ‘i dunno.’ ask Mac about it, he’d just shrug and dismissively say, ‘okay.’ try to probe any more and one would get a wealth of shrugging.

it kind of drove Deut up the wall. he tried many times to pin it to the easy fact and conclusion that they were two very, very different people. there was some hope that their eccentricities were just some weird, long “phase”. that was opinion based how sometimes he’d find them curled up together. they’d have the same bored or vaguely annoyed expressions but seem as content as can be having a cuddle in silence. sometimes Tugger would be asleep, Macavity leaning on him while he read, or they’d be awake and simply sitting there in total silence, the tips of their tails gently tapping to prove they were feeling just fine.

they clearly enjoyed each other in their own way. they also seemed to prefer each other’s company in privacy. Deut had commented on it, and asked them first: why do they hide away like this, and second: if they truly are friendly, then why do they act so strangely around each other?

and predictably, all he got were shrugs.

Deut could never, ever figure them out, and he swore it would drive him batshit insane. this behavior continued well into their teens.

when Munkustrap came about, Tugger was seven and Macavity five. considering how the two acted already, there was reasonable concern about how they’d treat Munkustrap. as it turned out, there was exactly nothing to be worried about.

a switch flipped in each of them. Tugger played the adoring, protective big brother. he sat with his baby brother and played with him, kept an eye on him, helped where he could, got cranky when he wasn’t allowed to. Tugger doted on him. he learned how to hold him, and while he grew he was happy to take him and show him around. “Well,” some started to agree, “he’ll make an incredible father when the time comes.”

Macavity was much the same, but on a more subdued level. Deut noticed this about his middle child: Macavity was low-key, just like Tugger, but his version of it was calculating. that’s how he thought Macavity regarded his older brother - he was curious, shrewd.. and something he couldn’t put a word to.

but with Munkustrap, Macavity was seemed enchanted. Deut saw Macavity look at his little brother like he was amazed by him. for all of Macavity’s weirdness, the way he accepted Munkustrap kept their father’s anxieties at a minimum. Macavity was just as interested in helping raise this little kitten as Tugger was. in fact, Tugger and Macavity seemed to bond over Munkustrap.

if anyone could explain that to Deut, he’d really love to hear it.

(of course there were some petty fights over their little brother he had to break up and appropriately console, but such is the nature of youngin’s and fatherhood.)

Munkustrap grew up absolutely spoiled by attention from his siblings. in his earliest years he became their shadow. now and then he’d get upset because he couldn’t follow both of them at the same time; they went different directions! but for as much as the older two lavished adoration on him, Munkustrap’s bratty phase was short-lived.

as the big brothers grew, their maturity followed along. they showed great social, mental, and emotional awareness alongside their occasional nonsensical meltdowns, baffling “logic”, and poor filter management. (as expected.) one of their changes was thought of as their biggest, since everyone knew they’d pretty much outright claimed Munkustrap the moment they laid eyes on him - they started to encourage independence.

it had a rocky start, of course. and it had rocky middles. and it had rocky weeks. but Tugger and Macavity worked damningly well together. there was enough worry already that Munkustrap would develop codependence. for a while there, it seemed like the damage was already done. and then it was undone.

Deut added that mystery to the ever-expanding list of things he’ll never understand about his sons.

the protective nature in Tugger didn’t come when Munkustrap was born. that trait developed when he was younger and all he had was Macavity. it was something that gradually became something for Deut to scrutinize as each year passed.

Tugger grew to his teens, developed his personality, honed his talents, watched over his brothers. Macavity grew to his teens, came out of his strange, guarded shell; he talked (a lot, but maybe it only seemed that way since he was sometimes bordering on mute before), he participated and he had energy (and yet, there was something about him..). Munkustrap finally hit double digits, and he took after both his brothers’ confidence, their energy; and as it turned out, he was kinda bossy. Munkustrap had a lot of ideas about many things and wanted it to go perfectly.

Macavity and Munkustrap have some memories that entail Tugger stepping up to the plate. there was a particular event, though that made the biggest impact.

but first, i imagine that there were other senior guardians at the time. being a Protector was an entirely different ballgame; the position was unfilled, for Protector was generally reserved for the heir. so while it waited for the right one at the right time, a team of guardians shared the duties.

Tugger was about seventeen then. Macavity was just a little younger, about fifteen, and Munkustrap being around ten. their age differences definitely influenced their relationships.

there was a problem one night. nobody can really agree about who it was or why they did it. whatever group it was that invaded the Junkyard did it on a rainy night. many were tucked away, glad to get comfortable and avoid the rain. the guardians were at their posts or patrolling, weather be damned.

there was a lot of commotion, then screaming, then clattering. naturally available guardians rushed to the scene and others poked their heads out. what ensued was a horrible attack on the tribe and it seemed like its purpose was meant for the worse. (Deut thought a lot about it and he suspected it was a territorial overthrow. the Junkyard was a pretty desirable fortress. many times before he’d dealt with some heat in the background, hostile even; but never this brazen.)

the brothers had been riding out the storm together. Munkustrap ran his mouth at his brothers, making up stories and telling them his personal opinions (for the 15th time that day. maybe more. no one was counting.). Tugger engaged him with expressions and the ‘oh yeah?’ ‘uh huh’ ‘oohh’s to show he was listening. Macavity was more interested in hoping Munkustrap would tire himself out and shut up and go to sleep. but in the meantime, he’d work on his needlepoint.

(a few of the older Jellicle generation saw some behaviors in him that were not only frustrating for Macavity himself, but certainly others. they were relieved that needlepoint seemed to refocus and calm him down; he could keep his hands busy and though his mind could wander, projects needed his constant attention. it wasn’t all roses, but it was working well for the time being.)

when the disturbances started, the three of them all stopped and listened. there was more; still, they only listened. when there was a scream, Munkustrap bolted for the outside. Tugger was hot on his heels, and Macavity a few paces behind. the confusion and the rain had everyone disorganized and running about, the guardians struggling to corral tribal members while picking out the infiltrators. Munkustrap idolized the guardians and naturally he wanted to step up and help.

the brothers were separated in the chaos. the natural leadership and protective instinct kicked right in for Tugger and thanks to that, combined with his likewise innate level head, he was able to quickly work out a plan. he wanted to restore enough order to get a start on safe evacuation to another part of the Junkyard and try to order guardians to pair and hold fast.

this was all easier said than done, and it had a lot of holes and problems during the situation - that’s simply the reality of these scenarios. one of the bigger ones was due to being a young age (17) and not really displaying outright leadership qualities (as his developing version was laid back and mostly through suggestion). he wasn’t actively training to work as a guardian. right then, he was more of a liability. Tugger butted heads with guardians and wasted precious time, so he took initiative and did things his own way, though his method allowed him to try to work with the guardians. it was noted, and clumsily following through with Tugger��s impromptu, shot-in-the-dark system helped in the long run.

later there would be due credit given to Tugger for his actions. his dedication to his tribe came loud and clear (making the ones who were personally a part of that side of the ordeal rethink some of their opinions on him) but his main priority were his brothers and father. Deuteronomy was already being protected out in the rain, where he was still rather vulnerable, but too stubborn to immediately get to a safe place until he was certain every member left was there first. and he waited for his sons. he tried to keep an eye on Tugger, he thinks he saw Macavity, and little Munkustrap had been just a glimpse.

Tugger’s report later consisted of intentionally simple facts. he seemed reluctant to give the full story. Deut eventually allowed it; whatever happened between the start of it all to the brothers’ arrival to the safe house left the three so affected that the tribe saw the impact for years.

what happened, condensed, was this: Tugger found the two of them in what looked like an actual life or death scenario. one of their attackers held Munkustrap so tightly to their chest that bruising and a suspected cracked rib could have been the fault of this while Macavity was on aggressive offense/defense. the would-be abductor was clever and seemed to be trying to use Munkustrap as a meat-shield to ward him off.

Tugger quickly gauged the scene and jumped in at, he hoped, the right time. for the most part, he got his timing and method of attack right. he couldn’t plan for anything at all otherwise, of course. he thought that Macavity recognized not only him, but that he was there to help get Munkustrap back. (they didn’t talk about it to clarify afterwards. it was best not to.) whether or not any of that had truth, Tugger found out what this 15-year-old was capable of.

the whole event was traumatic for the three of them. that aside, the younger two saw a fierce, fearless protector in Deut’s eldest son (as did others). Tugger some gained trust and admiration and he only cared about the kind that came from his kin.

after that he admittedly looked forward to joining the ranks and filling that vacant role. he started training. Munkustrap emulated him, declaring that he too would guard Jellicle territory one day.

Macavity’s exile came and went. dynamic between the remaining brothers changed; their personalities took a different turn. Tugger’s dedication to such a physical and mental position declined. Munkustrap’s escalated. there was quite a lot of disappointment when Tugger started to lose interest and gusto in it. Munkustrap’s disappointment hurt the most, but he knew this was best for the tribe. Tugger stepped down for good.

in watching Munkustrap grow up, Tugger felt guilty and worried for him. maybe he’d been too brash about his decision. since there was no taking it back, the best he could do was advise. at first, Munkustrap seemed to have some reservations about listening to said advice. they argued a bit, Tugger accused him of being pretentious, Munkustrap called him a coward. their tension was sensed by others and Deut attempted to sit them both down and clear the air. this was a sore spot that they needed to remedy themselves, and it took a good deal of time to smooth the edges out again.

when that finally happened, Munkustrap began to ask for Tugger’s insight. while the tabby was passionately devoted to his tribe and its future, he lacked the astuteness of his kin. Tugger provided what he could. his area of expertise truly lay in strategizing. he bore a valuable skill that, in this particular tribe, was rare and unmatched. because his people-reading, intuition, and forethought sharpened by the day, he was able to guide Munkustrap to consider avenues he hadn’t thought of before. it improved the youngest’s executions and helped him advance.

Tugger settled into himself. he continued to be authentic, now feeling more free to do so without such a heavy expectation on his shoulders. concern never stopped gnawing at him about Munkustrap, however. since Macavity left, it seemed that Munkustrap gradually developed a persona, and Tugger hated that it was there at all. he blamed Macavity for it.

this persona was the upbeat, charismatic, congenial and zealous nature he was known for. Munkustrap’s storytelling was always evolving; it was his passion and pride. this isn’t to say that all of this was a facade. all mentioned is his legitimate self. what irked Tugger was how he bumped all of it up to 11 - or even 20. knowing his little brother so well, it could seem too try-hard and almost satirical. Deut noticed and felt somewhat the same from what Tugger gleaned off him. they both decided to chalk it up to Munkustrap still being young (about 20s, now) and figuring things out and, well - he did need a certain persona to do his work. maybe they were overthinking it and simply needed to be patient.

now they’re much older. the tribe has accepted new members, seen others age, put some to rest. ((NOTE: i believe that there are many more Jellicles than depicted in the show. who we see is just a fraction. i can explain why in another post if there’s any interest.)) the brothers’ relationship improved. they admired each other, played their jokes, had their feuds, got frustrated, and that was all par for the course of brotherhood. (their seven year age difference also had something to do with it.) Munkustrap filled the role that’d been waiting for him all along. the tribe was, is, proud of and to have him. he doesn’t need Tugger’s perspective as much these days, though he’s is the first person Munkustrap turns to when he does, and Tugger is all too happy to provide.

between then to now there had been some trouble here and there. though there are a collection of guardians on regular watch and assist, Tugger had occasionally been unable to only do background (though no less important) work. deep within him he was still a protector. when the type of situation arose in which his more present involvement, even in small scale, was absolutely necessary in his mind, Munkustrap was glad that he got to see the side of his brother that he revered (and mourned) so much.

they only wished Macavity’s future had kept him with them.

#ches writes #ches writes stuff #cats musical #cats the musical #munkustrap #macavity #tugger #headcanons #the read more cut is absolutely necessary #anyway gonna make the usual disclaimer:#all is subject to change #since i literally just pulled everything out of my ass and slapped it down #stream of consciousness no hard thinking #gotta get those first thoughts in amirite??#get that ball rollin y'all #ok i'm gonna go take a run now #hope this is enjoyed!

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hag-lad · 5 years ago

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Digging Deeper

Thank you to my radiant wonderful friend @alienfuckeronmain for sending me EXACTLY the type of self indulgent wind-down activity I wanted on this otherwise depressing weekend! If anyone else wants to answer FORTY-NINE QUESTIONS about themselves, I’m super nosy and will read it all! @fight-the-seether @ptolemyofchaos @butchwizard @metalbutch @nyndelion @comrade-ziltoid @leatherdear @kristalknobb Enjoy, friends!

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? I prefer black, but I always feel like I write neater in blue??

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? The city, but only if it has breathable air, green infrastructure, and decent public transit. So like... definitely no city in America lmao

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? The ability to quickly become fluent in another language! I’ve been struggling with Spanish for literal YEARS and it’s honestly pathetic. My brain is so stuck on English.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Look pal. If I wanna drink sugar, I’m gonna have a soda, not herb water or bean juice.

5. What was your favorite book as a child? I was OBSESSED with The Wish List, by Eoin Colfer (of Artemis Fowl fame). I remember being so fascinated by how dark it was?? It’s an afterlife adventure, where the main character has to escape purgatory by atoning for her crimes of robbery and fraud and whatever. I had a crush on her, so basically this book made me want to pursue a life of crime, even though it explicitly condemns crime and depicts Hell as a very real and horrible place. I was in like fourth grade and was super morbidly curious about Hell and the possibility of going there! Lol

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Baths... but only when I’m not actually dirty going in. A bath is leisure, not hygiene.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? 100% fae! I would build my dwelling within a sidhe mound, steal shiny things in the middle of the night, make bastardly little contracts for no reason, and cause harmless mayhem and mischief because mortals really are fools (go off, robin goodfellow!) Also I love mushroom circles and dancing in the moonlight.

8. Paper or electronic books? Paper all the way! I read much more content electronically, but it’s usually in the short story or article format. Books are much better in print, I think.

9. What is your favorite item of clothing? Probably my rust-brown overalls.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I’ve always hated my name but no alternative has ever stuck, unfortunately. My name is Amy, and I don’t think it fits at all. If I knew I’d never have to correct anyone on it, I’d probably just change it to Amelia?

11. Who is a mentor to you? My little brother! He’s this genius musician, and he has taught me so much about song structure, polyrhythms, guitar technique, production tricks, all kinds of trivia that really deepen my appreciation for music and the LABOR that goes into it.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? No, never, not for anything. I cherish my anonimity so much, I don’t even put searchable tags on this blog cuz I get an adrenaline spike from anxiety if too many people interact with me. I also just think fame is a fucking hideous construct. I don’t think it’s even slightly cool or desirable.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? No, I’m a fucking log. I can easily sleep for 12 hours straight. Thanks, depression!

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? No, actually. I’m very much in love, and it brings me lots of joy to do nice things with and for my partner! But romance feels very difficult for me to connect with. I’m super domestic, like, I love the idea of marriage but not necessarily a wedding, or a moonstruck romance or whatever. Those dramatic gestures feel very awkward for me.

15. Which element best represents you? EARTH. Specifically, like... dirt, or soil.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I want to be geographically closer to my family. We’re thick as thieves, but we all live like 50 miles apart from each other. I miss my brothers and my parents so much, I feel so incomplete and depressed without them to hang out with, especially since quarantine.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? See above! Lol

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. When my little brother was a baby, he had this grey car seat with a folding mechanism which held his legs in place. It made a very satisfying clicking sound when the mechanism moved, AND when it was fully unfolded, it looked a lot like a Klingon battle cruiser. (Or so my five year old brain thought.) So! My older brother and I would take this seat out of the car CONSTANTLY so that we could unfold it and “sing” the Klingon theme music from Star Trek: The Motion Picture while we scooched our car seat battle cruiser across the living room floor, pretending to shoot phasers into the TV or the dining table or whatever else got in our way.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? Gifilte fish, maybe?

20. What are you most thankful for? My family, including my wonderful partner and all the cats in our lives!

21. Do you like spicy food? Yes! But my tolerance for extreme spice decreases every year, unfortunately. So I can’t handle as much heat as I used to, but I do enjoy a good kick.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Lmaooo I made the regretful decision to PAY FOR a meet&greet with Fall Out Boy in like 2006, which was so fucking awkward and painful, I vowed to never approach that level of lame again.

23. Do you keep a diary or a journal? TONS! I’m an obsessive record keeper. Some years I journal more than others, and I’ve found that it is super difficult to keep up with it while working full time. But it’s absolutely one of my favorite hobbies.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or pencil? Pen for writing. Pencil for drawing, and math.

25. What is your star sign? Virgo sun, Aquarius moon, Scorpio rising 🙃

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Crunchy! A shallow bath in that milk is key.

27. What would you want your legacy to be? My artwork. I go through these aesthetic phases every year that I become super obsessed with/ focused on, and I’ve always meant to catalogue them in annual art journals, but I’ve NEVER FINISHED ONE! They always get pushed aside by the need to work, and I hate that so much. If I could just take a year off work and backfill all of my missed concepts into completed books, I would be so happy. But I literally have NO WAY to pay for that, absolutely none. I fucking hate capitalism.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I love to read, but finishing a whole book has been A STRUGGLE lately! Right now I’m chipping away at Tending Brigid’s Flame, which is a quaint lil devotional for the Celtic fire goddess. Very new agey, like cheesy Wiccan vibes. I love that shit!

29. How do you show someone you love them? Quality time!

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Only if I have a straw. Ice touching my teeth kinda makes me wince.

31. What are you afraid of? Incompetance, doing a bad job, letting someone down, taking up too much space, being a nussiance, etc

32. What is your favourite scent? Incense! Especially cinnamon, dragon’s blood, and amber.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? I always call people, regardless of age, by the name they ask me to use. Sometimes it’s a surname or title, usually it’s a first name. I’ll ask their preference if I’m unsure. But I definitely don’t default toward a surname, that’s weird.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY!!!!!! The need for money rules literally every single hour of my entire life, and I hate it so much. I’m naturally nocturnal, but my job requires me to get up super early and sit in a car for 11 hours a day. I wake up at 5am, come home front work at 5pm, spend an hour or two trying to unwind, then go to bed and do it all over again. I hate my life! Really! I never see the stars, I never exercise, I am completely exhausted and burnt out all the time, and I barely get any quality time with my partner. If money were no object, I would sleep til noon or 1, make art and hike all day, ride my bike and stargaze all night, stay up til 4am reading and playing with my cats, and sleep like a baby. My partner and I would cook dinner for each other and watch Star Trek and collaborate on art projects and I would be so happy.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Here’s my hierarchy: Private pool > ocean > public pool

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? I’d look around to see if anyone obviously dropped it and try to give it back. If I couldn’t find anyone, I’d exchange it for dollars and deposit that shit into my account!

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Of course!! Hundreds!

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? America is evil and needs to be destroyed.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? Lmao this is so cute. If you HAD TO HAVE a tattoo! I really wanna finish my damn sleeves, they’re literally 9 years in the making and barely half finished. But I’d also love more art on my legs! I DESPERATELY want Ziltoid in a lacy valentine heart on my thigh.

40. What can you hear now? Our fish tank water bubbling and my fan on full blast.

41. Where do you feel the safest? Home alone, doors locked, windows covered, lights low. I absolutely LOVE to not be seen or perceived in any way.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? My fear of discomfort

43. If you could time travel to another era, which one would you choose? I feel like I’d want to be a teen in the 80’s and an adult in the 90’s. Does time travel work that way?

44. What is your most used emoji? 😭 or 😎

45. Describe yourself using one word. Defeated

46. What do you regret the most? Convincing myself that math was too hard or boring (or something?) when I was in middle school. I feel like I’m actually a pretty intelligent person who could’ve totally overcome that difficulty and gone on to understand all kinds of patterns and concepts which have eluded me to this day! It’s so frustrating to try and fight that formative self-concept, which now comes naturally but ultimately sabotages me. 💀

47. Last movie you saw? I made my partner watch Troop Beverly Hills, one of my childhood faves. It’s so fun! I love chick flicks so much.

48. Last tv show you watched? Deep Space Nine. Getting through the first season has been harder than expected. It’s actually my favorite Star Trek show?? (Orrrr maybe that’s TNG, ahh! It’s so hard to choose!) But season one is so baffling and awful! Why is there so much space capitalism??! And racism? And war? And drinking alcoholic beverages? #notmystartrek

49. Invent a word and its meaning. I used to call a single strand of curly hair a “curly quink” when I was a child. Therefore, a “quink” is a section of hair, usually a particularly cute or iconic one.

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

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Survey #265

“all is fair in love and war, i’m still rotten to the core.”

What's the latest youtube channel you've discovered and binge-watched? Ha, a WoW channel that basically gives advice and tutorials on stuff. She doesn't have many videos, but she's pretty successful already and chill as hell. Kraken Latte. Does it snow where you live? Occasionally. Very rarely does the snow stick, though, because the ground will be too warm. Do you think your hair looks better long or short? Short. Do you look best with or without bangs? Bitch I loved my emo bangs fuck off. Well, they weren't technically bangs, my hair was just parted far to the left. Do you enjoy editing photos on your phone? Well, my phone doesn't have GREAT camera quality, but I usually do some subtle edits if I take a pic on it. What's your favorite thing to do on your phone? Play Pokemon GO REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Which season do you wish would last longer? Shit man, fall. At least here, the phase of colorful leaves is VERY short. Goes from green to totally bare in what feels like just a couple weeks. How many outdoor birthday parties have you had? Hell if I know. How much taller or shorter are you than your mom? We're the same height. Who is your favorite sibling? Lol wow that's mean. Do you have neat handwriting? Yeah. Do you like sushi? I've actually never tried it, but I'm quite certain I wouldn't like it. Have you ever tried seaweed? Actually yes, I believe in the 4th grade? We had I think authentic Japanese (or Chinese, idr) food, and I recall there being seaweed. I didn't like it. The only thing I liked was the white rice, I think. Do you have an actual pig-shaped piggy bank? No, but I think I may have as a kiddo. Did you dream of becoming famous as a kid? No. Have you ever been to a gynecologist? I actually haven't because I've always said I wasn't sexually active (back then it wasn't a conscious lie, I just genuinely didn't realize what we were doing was just shallow sex). I'm absolutely terrified to go anyway because I'm just very very very private about this sort of thing and honestly think I'll have a panic attack when I do have to for the first time anyway. Name three games that you are good at. Shadow of the Colossus, Silent Hill, World of Warcraft. What was your favorite board game as a kid? Ha ha, somehow, it was this shopping game called "Mall Madness." Veeeery unfitting of who I was and what I enjoyed as a kid. Do you get on Facebook every day? Pretty much. Did you watch the Kids Choice Awards when you were a kid? No. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Spice Girls, I think. Do you have memories that still make you cry? Yes. Have you made your own mask to help prevent the spread of the virus? No, considering I don't leave the damn house like ever. Do you know anyone who has the virus? Yes. Not personally, but distantly. Are you proud to be an American? (if applicable) Sometimes. What countries have you visited? I haven't left America. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? No. How many true heartbreaks have you had in your lifetime? Romantically, I only consider one to be a *real* heartbreak. Have you ever cut yourself? Yeah. Do you feel like everything is falling apart around you? BOY DO I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Was your first kiss romantic? Yes. Do you miss any of your exes right now? My PTSD has been awful awful AWFUL the past few days, so yes. A lot. Have you ever overdosed on anything? Yes. What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her of course, but I'd also be very confused. She's made it clear she doesn't believe a relationship is the best idea for her right now. Who was your date to prom? Jason took me to his senior prom, and I took him to mine. Do you still talk to your first love? No, I haven't spoken to him in over three years now. Wow. Whose wedding did you go to first? I don't remember. I'm sure it wasn't the first, but ONE of the earliest that I do remember was when my friend Summer's mom got remarried. He sadly passed away a long while ago though. Are you ashamed of anyone you've dated in the past? Tyler, yes. It was so pointless and a "let's see how this goes" versus a "I really like this guy and really want this relationship" thing. I honestly think I only said yes to dating because I didn't want to hurt his feelings and I was lonely. What about anyone you've been friends with? There were certainly times it felt very weird calling Colleen my best friend with how bitchy she could be. Especially when you consider how non-confrontational I am, while she charged like a goddamn bull into arguments. Have you ever made out with someone in a pool? Uhhh I think that one night when I lived at the apartment and it was just us out there late at night. He and I went back inside before Jacob and Amanda TO hardcore make out because we both way too obviously wanted it so I wouldn't be remotely surprised if we snuck in some action at the pool oof. Who’s the last person that slept over your house? Sara. Do you still talk to the last person you kissed? Yes. Have you ever kissed someone with a tongue ring? No, I was the person with the tongue ring. I actually took it out a little while back because I was tired of accidentally chomping down on it when eating and chipping teeth. I'd already told myself if I did it one more time I would, and especially right now, we can't afford to keep filling cavities that have come from it. I don't at all regret getting it and it'll always be one of the cutest piercings I think I've ever had, but it was just time for it to come out. Is it hard for you to get over a lover? I THINK I'VE MADE THAT!!!!!!!!!!! O BVIO US S!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have you ever tried making someone jealous? Not to my recollection. Did your last relationship end because of you or the other person? Both of us really, but she initiated the breakup, you could say. Who is the last person you flirted with? Sara. Who's the most racist person you know? Jesus Christ, I live in the South. I know dozens of racists. I guess the worst is uhhh OH the aforementioned Colleen, holy fucking shit. I highly highly highly doubt that has changed at all since we last associated with each other. If you could be a film character, who would you be? Let me be Alice Liddell. Crunchy peanut butter or smooth? Smooth is the only way to go with pb. Would you rather always be in a crowd, or be the only person on earth? "Always be in a crowd. It wouldn’t be fun, but I think it’d be better than being that alone." <<<< This. I legitimately think I'd wind up killing myself in the other case. Would you rather be rich, or famous? Why? "Rich, because...what’s the point of being famous if you’re not rich? Just everyone knowing all of your business?" <<<< Also this. Do you squeeze the toothpaste from the top or the bottom? "I start off from the top until it gets used enough that I have to squeeze up from the bottom." <<<< Lemme just steal all this person's answers lmao. How many children do you want? Girls or boys? None, but if I was to have kids, I'd definitely want a girl. Is there a story behind your name? What is it? No. What was one of the most fun things you and your college roommate did together? I didn't have a college roommate. Well wait no, during my first college attempt is when I lived w/ Jason, Jacob, and Amanda. I'd honestly prefer to not think too hard back on it to answer this. Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who? I don't even have a bank account. Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? Yeah, multiple. Would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? Which one more? Pads or tampons, nah. I'd feel awkward buying condoms though. Are your parents gullible? Dad probably is; he has very little common sense. I got it from him lmao. Mom, heeeeell no. Do you still own a VCR? No. What color is the computer/laptop you’re on? Did you buy it yourself? It's black. No. Does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you? All three do. Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you? Younger. Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? Yeah. How often do you drink Monster? Never, because I don't like it. Have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends? HAHA I was a cringy teen once, my friends. Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? Inside. I feel safer. Do you own a nightgown? No, I haven't worn those since I was a kid. Have you ever worn fishnets? Fishnet gloves. I WISH I could pull off fishnet pants. Would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out? In times like THESE???????? Bitch I wanna go eat out at a yummy restaurant. Do you always wear your seat belt? ABSOLUTELY. I get so stressed out when I see people not wearing one. Have you ever liked someone much older than you? Not much older. Have you ever been in a play? Just school ones as a kid. Is there ice cream in your freezer? No, but there's popsicles from when I couldn't get my tongue ring out and it was massively swollen and in terrible pain. Thank God I finally got it out. Have you ever liked the lyrics of a band but hated the music? Probably. Does your bathroom have a window? Yeah, but it's very small and up kinda high. Do you go somewhere to get your eyebrows done? I used to, but I don't anymore. I just leave them be. Do you believe prayer really works? Nope. Have you been on a date in the park? No. Are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family? A whole. Fucking. Lot. To just name a few, depression, high blood pressure, heart disease, cancer, diabetes... Do you have asthma? No. Last person to take off your pants, besides you? Jason. Least favorite alcoholic drink? Mother of God, this white wine I tried at Colleen's forever ago. It was fucking repulsive. How did you meet the last male you texted? I mean I literally came from his balls so like Have you ever had an embarrassing email address? Ha ha yeah, the one I've always had. It's not very adult-ish or "serious"-sounding, but I don't want to change it now. Do you put shampoo in your left or right hand? Left. I squeeze with my right. Do you have a bull ring through your nose? No, I don't feel that would look good on me. Do you and your dad get along? Yes. When was the last time you did clay work/pottery? My last year of art in high school. I made an anatomical heart for Jason. I wonder a lot if he still has it after how much work I put into it. Do you like art, hate it or just not mind it? I adore art. The world would be so much more boring without it. If you had to choose would you prefer dull pain for 12hours or sharp for 2? Ew, dull. Two hours with sharp pain sounds awful. Do you know the words to the national anthem of your country? Yeah. Would you rather be a Model, Famous Scientist, Singer or Chef? Scientist, probably. I'd love to be a biologist anyway, and that's a type of scientist. Would you rather be a pilot, crime scene investigator or estate agent? Ohhh, crime scene investigator. Does making others happy really make you feel happy? Yes! Did you ever swear at a teacher in school? Why? No. Have you ever pricked your finger on Holly or another ‘sharp’ plant? Yeah. Have you ever written your own short story? Yes. What about a novel? Or perhaps you started and couldn’t finish? "I started writing several novels, but abandoned them all." <<<< Same yo. Either of the above, if this was the case, place short synopsis here: The first one was about a very close meerkat family, divided into elemental "breeds," and the prince falling in love with another of his kind. His father had a stray brother who constantly aimed to destroy the family, but he was converted towards the end. That's all I can really remember about that one. There were others like two species of animals I made also falling in love, despite being predators and prey of each other, and fulfilling some sorta prophecy with their offspring. The other two I recall- yo fuck it I keep remember more and more okay I wrote a LOT. Do you prefer SciFi/Fantasy/Action/Horror or Rom/Com/RealLife? I'm guessing you mean in books, given the last three questions? I have a strong preference for fantasy. What do you have a lot of faith in [note: can be anything]? Hell if I know. Would you rather have a big house, a lot of kids or a high flying job? High flying job, easily. I don't want kids, nor do I need a large house, especially considering I hate cleaning even this tiny one. Have you ever been to a creepy/haunted/abandoned place? Yeah. What did it look like and what were the circumstances? It was this really old, mostly dilapidated shack full of cool stuff. It was by the field near our old house. Me, my sister, and our friend hung out there and explored all the time until this freaky woman showed out and told us we shouldn't be there. Do you know a Jack? What’s he like? Yeah. I don't him that well though, so idk. How about a Lisa? What’s she like? Yeah, she's one of my WoW friends that I've become really close with. She is an absolute sweetheart, but talks about herself way, way too excessively to the point it's hard to have a conversation sometimes. I know she doesn't realize it, though. When you have children, would you like twins? I say enough that I don't even want kids, SO FUCK NO. Do you know any twins? If so, what are they called? Yes. Tyler and Taylor. I know others, but idr their names. What personality trait does nearly everyone in your family seem to have? We're stubborn as all fuck hell. Do you have any nicknames that aren’t derived from your actual name? Yeah, some online ones and then my mom has called me "Twinkie" since I was a baby. Do you have any allergies? Yeah, of pollen and silver. What is the longest your hair has ever been? To or maybe even past the small of my back. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not my jam. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it? I really don't kn- oh yes I do. I have these oooold old thin and sewn-back-up-fifty-times Batman pj pants from when Jason and I were together, so maybe like... seven years? Thanks PTSD, I'm attached to them because Batman was his thing. How often do you eat out at a fancy restaurant? Just about never. Nutella or peanut butter? UGGGGGHHHHH I've been on a nutella thing lately. Have you ever hosted a wild party? Definitely not. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it? Wings of Fire: The Lost Heir by Tui Sutherland. Yes, it was very good. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang with? Besides my immediate family, like... none anymore. Have you ever donated blood? Yes. From 1-10, how much do you like decorating for holidays? This is hard to gauge. I've never seriously done it myself, and I don't really have the motivation to do it just to take it all down a month or so later. I love it in concept, but yeah. Favorite animated Disney character? Probably Kiara from TLK2. Have you ever cooked a big family meal by yourself? Ha, no. Favorite winter activity? TAKING PICTURES IN THE SNOOOOOOOOW. Do you consider rapping singing? I mean I guess? Does your home have a fireplace? No. Do you listen to any religious music? No. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite? Ugh... soda is my weakness. I'd probably lose weight easier if I just stopped drinking it. Mountain Dew Voltage is my favorite, and I've also been on a serious strawberry Sunkist thing lately. How easily do you cry? I cry very, very easily. Can you handle spicy foods? What is your spice limit? Oh yeah. The only way I know how to gauge this one is that I enjoy the "hot" sauce at BWW lol. I've actually kinda cut back on HOW much I enjoy it, though; like I'm more into enjoying my food thoroughly lately than the adrenaline of spicy food. What day of the week is laundry day for you? I personally don't do the laundry because Mom prefers to just do ours together, so. It varies, I think. Have you ever played spin the bottle? No. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer? If so, what are they of? Not on mine, but the one I currently have to use has tooons. I don't feel like looking at the lid trying to list what they are tho. How often do you say "y'all?" It's pretty much in my normal vernacular due to where I live. Do you believe in evolution? Yes. I have questions and curiosities about it, but when you consider how truly short it has been since considerable natural selection has been observed, why couldn't it exist on a bigger scale? Do you live in an apartment or a house? I live in a house. How long have you been at your current job? I'm unemployed. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship? Yes. Phrase you say the most? Probably "oof" lmao. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it? Yes and yes. Have you ever given anyone CPR? No. Have you ever learned to do anything from a how-to video on YouTube? Yes, mainly just editing stuff. Have you ever auditioned for a reality competition show? No. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show? No. I've been at hockey games with Dad, but I don't consider those "TV shows." Have you ever given money to a street performer? I've never even seen one. Do you own any homemade clothing? Not that I know of. Have you ever bought anything from a flea market? Yeah, decorations 'n trinkets and stuff. I love flea markets. Have you ever quit a job? Yes. Are your birth parents together? No. Do you or have you ever worn glasses? I've worn glasses for years now. Have you ever been broken up with? AKA died in spirit? :^) Have you ever been the victim of a nasty prank? Not to my recolleciton. Favorite fandom? Y'all been known, the Markiplier fandom is a goddamn family. Can you surf? No. What motivates you to do well in life? The knowledge that I've most likely only got one life to make something of. How lucky do you consider yourself? I mean, ALL things considered, I'd say I'm at just below the baseline, maybe? I mean I could be homeless or dying of malaria or something. Have you ever been summoned for jury duty? No. Favorite summer activity? Swimming! Have you ever lived on a farm? No. I wanted to for years as a little kid, though. How often do you get mad at yourself? I've lately been in an almost constant state of anger regarding myself, honestly. Have you ever gotten any stitches? Yes. Favorite YouTube channel? The Marker Plier guy. Do you have a pool at your house? No. Last thing that made you laugh? Something on Game Grumps. Earbud or earmuff headphones? Earbuds. Earmuffs hurt my head and ears. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman? Yes. Have you ever gotten a New Year’s kiss exactly at midnight? I don't think so. Have you ever voted for a reality competition show? The only time I did that I remember is when Landau Eugene Murphy Jr. won America's Got Talent. I adored him and voted like mad. Does anyone in your family currently serve in your country’s military? Ummm maybe distantly? I don't know anyone off the top of my head. Are you comfortable with watching rated R movies? Well yeah.

#survey #surveys #questions

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eponymous-rose · 6 years ago

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This isn’t a post I really wanted to make, and I feel kind of shitty making it because parts of it aren’t my story to tell, but not talking about it isn’t working, so hey. Weirdly comforting internet void, please don’t reblog this.

There’s discussion of mental illness below, but not (directly) firsthand. This is mainly discussion of the impact mental illness is having on my family. Please avoid this post if this is a topic that is likely to cause you pain or discomfort. I think I just need to have it out there.

About a year ago, my brother was diagnosed with Bipolar I. His seeking out a diagnosis was the direct result of the way his mental health was horrifically mismanaged when he lived in the US in his late teens: he was misdiagnosed as schizophrenic and, a few months later, a pharmacy error cut him off anti-psychotics cold turkey. It was absolutely horrible, and he wound up leaving school and moving back in with my parents for a time just to recover. That diagnosis was still on file for him almost a decade later, but recently his job finally had decent enough benefits that he could afford to go in for a barrage of psychiatric testing to rule things out. Bipolar I wound up being the diagnosis that fit.

And I think, for him, there was a sense of relief that came from that initial diagnosis, because a lot of things started to fit. Our immediate family is very close and very loving, but also almost comically controlled and disciplined and logical and isolated. As a kid, he would frequently spiral over something small (I clearly remember being baffled by the fact that my teenage brother would still have full-on tantrums), and my parents and I would just be staring wide-eyed in silence because strong emotion??? what do????? He was comforted and loved, and outright tells us all the time that he loves us and feels really lucky to have had such a supportive family, but I can’t help feeling like we were just... overwhelmed by inertia and kept thinking “this is probably healthier and more normal than the way we repress our emotions”.

I suspected depression was always there, and I’d reached out to him a little about that based on my own experiences, but mania hadn’t even occurred to me, even when he was sending us e-mails at 5 AM about the new opera he stayed up all night writing. It’s incredible what starts to feel like normal when you’re in denial like that.

Regardless, that’s where we were last year: he called us up when I was visiting my parents and we chatted for about an hour about what we all knew about this illness and how he’d be going forward. We all assured him that we loved him a lot and were here for him in whatever way he needed us.

And then, in typical us fashion, we repressed it. My dad yelled at a server out of nowhere for bringing the wrong drink that afternoon; this is the most empathetic man I know, who’s raised his voice maybe three times in my life that I can remember (he called the server over afterwards to apologize and tipped hugely for having to put up with him). My mom’s anxiety spiked. I stopped sleeping well. It took us a few months to realize we were all struggling because we were so worried.

My brother tried a few different meds, none of which had a really strong impact. We all got together for the holidays, and when he arrived, he was furious in a way that felt familiar, like back in high school when he’d be so angry it was like he wasn’t fully in control of his body, wasn’t hearing the things he was saying. It was weirdly a bit of a relief, because I realized then how much he must have been putting on an act before: after high school, he’d always been extremely quiet and positive every single time I talked to him (always for short visits with big chunks in between). He was finally comfortable not being perfect around us.

The precipitating factor for this particular blow-up was one of his coworkers e-mailing him and asking for one more article even though he was on holidays: dick move, sure, but in no way deserving of flinging his luggage around and teary-voiced ranting at the restaurant we took him to for dinner. We made sure he knew he was being heard and understood, and we sympathized with him, and we set up an hour that evening so he could just sit quietly in his room and work out how he was going to reply to the e-mail. And then things were fine again. He told us stories about how great that same coworker was the next day.

My parents stayed at an airbnb, mainly because my place is a little small for four, and he and I stayed here and just had a wonderful time. I realized how much I’d built things up in my head in a worrying way: this was still my brother, who I love very much, who’s sensitive and feels things deeply and sometimes gets upset, but I knew how to talk to him and I hope I could help him feel better; he certainly helped me feel better. We watched old cartoons and played NBA on the Switch and got milkshakes and ordered in pad thai and had a fantastic time just chilling and talking about whatever crossed our minds. I never once felt nervous or weird around him in the three weeks we were here, and I very clearly remember thinking, “Hey, future self, remember how natural this felt next time you’re catastrophizing: this is one of the few people in the world you’d happily have as a roommate.” We get along so, so well, and some of the new initial tension between him and my parents (that awkward combination of “well-meaning” and “absolutely out of their depths” made for a couple of baffled moments before they hit their stride) just never bled through to our friendship.

It came out during that trip that he’d accrued some pretty hefty credit card debt (overspending being an extremely common thing when you’re in a manic phase... and also in your twenties living alone in a big city when a big chunk of your job involves socializing every night); my parents very calmly and supportively told him they’d help him pay it off on the condition that he cut up those cards and take a serious look at the gaps in his budget. He was more embarrassed than anything, but my mom’s no-nonsense, logical attitude broke through and soon they were happily sitting down and setting up a budget.

He went back home, and things started getting worse. His landlord was an asshole who wouldn’t let him and his roommate control the heating and insisted on controlling it from off-site, so he’d come home to a sweltering apartment every night and couldn’t sleep. He took a sleeping pill to help him get some rest, and that triggered a major depressive episode. Through a series of accidental events (mainly getting stuck on hold with a crisis line for 45 minutes and calling 911 out of desperation), he wound up getting picked up by the cops one night and brought to a mental hospital, which he said wasn’t his intention, but he was glad it happened in the long run (the hospital, not the cops, obvs).

He was only there for one night, after which point they set him up with a social worker and amazing outpatient care, including psychiatrist visits every week and a new set of mood stabilizing meds, and I cannot stress enough that this would have been a much shorter story if he’d lived in the US. With my parents’ help, he wrote a letter to his landlord threatening to go to the city if he didn’t fix the heating situation, and his landlord caved (thank goodness, because there’s no way he’d be able to pay rent anywhere else in that city). Things stabilized, a little.

Now, though, it looks like he may lose his job. He disclosed his illness right after the diagnosis, and after some initial missteps, they started putting in effort to work with him on it---in my brother’s e-mails to us, the HR person went from an obnoxious jerk to a determined ally, if only to avoid liability issues. But on his new meds, while he feels great in the mornings, he’s exhausted by the afternoon, and he often has minor depressive episodes in the evenings, so clearly the dose isn’t right yet. He’s up to missing a couple days of work a week, and they’re clearly trying to lean on him to switch to contract work so they can let him go without running afoul of legal protections. It doesn’t help that what started as a wide-open, exciting startup (he still says the first eight months were his dream job) has turned into an ad revenue-grabbing mechanism where all his colleagues are white homophobic tech bros who ignore him at best and resent his “special treatment” at worst.

A lot of his friends happened to move away around the time of his diagnosis as well, and now a lot of his remaining friends are distancing themselves. A common factor in his last few jobs toward the end was people telling him, “You just looked miserable all the time,” and it sounds like it’s starting to impact his personal relationships. His time online is spent in the deepest of “cancel culture” discussion, where being mostly good but fucking up once is almost more reprehensible than being wholly awful (he quit Facebook for a while, but wound up reopening his account to let people know about his hospitalization... and now he’s just back there again). He and his boyfriend broke up. His friend who initially suggested he apply for this job now ignores him at work.

It’s that awful combo of “people are being assholes about my illness” and “my illness makes it hard to believe that someone who initially reacts poorly will ever come around, so I’d better shove them away first”.

My parents are understandably so worried for him. They’re going out to visit him for three weeks starting tomorrow, staying at an airbnb nearby and occupying themselves with their own retirement pursuits so he can come visit if he likes, or ignore them if he needs space. They’ve told him that, if he’d like, he’s welcome to come stay with them for a few months (they live on the other side of the country); they’ll cover his half of the rent while he’s gone, and he’ll have a bit of an opportunity to just heal, considering he went straight back to work the day after his hospitalization. They’ll also help him strategize about whether he wants to switch to part-time on his current job and see about picking something else up. I suggested they bring up the possibility of going back for a master’s---I know it’s an absolute minefield for mental health, but in his particular case, a flexible schedule plus project-based creative work with specific deadlines has always been a pretty good fit, and he excels academically.

They’re also preparing for the possibility of moving him out to stay with them on a more permanent basis, but they obviously don’t want to disrupt his care (his current appointments are at the best mental health facilities in the country). They can’t afford to live in his city on their pension, but they’re also talking about giving up their retirement condo and buying out his roommate’s half of the rent, and just being there to help him out when he needs it. I don’t think he’d go for that unless things really deteriorated quickly, but a few months away from the city definitely sounds like what he needs.

And I’m just... so angry. I’m pissed off that so much of the stress weighing on him (and so many others!) right now comes from him being nearly 30, in debt, without a hint of a way to start saving for retirement, with these little one- or two-year gig jobs with two-hour commutes full of toxic people stretching out into eternity. I’m pissed off that this awful disease has made it so my parents probably aren’t in a place where they’re going to be able to do their big retirement trip, and they may be giving up their idyllic retired life for good. I’m angry with myself for that little burrowing resentment that, because my parents are older, I could wind up a financial, medical, and emotional caretaker for them and/or my brother at a moment’s notice, and I don’t feel ready to take all of that on. I’ll never feel ready.

(As a bonus, bipolar I has a genetic component, and now I’m thinking back to that one time I stayed up all night determined to save the world by learning all of biology in eight hours, or the time when as a grown-ass adult I started crying like a ten-year-old because I felt left out from an activity friends were doing, and I’m thinking, is this it? And then it’s not those extremes, it’s every normal human emotion that was previously muted by my own situational depression years ago. Is this it?)

I feel so, so entitled to the life we should have had as a family, and so frustrated at all these external factors that’ve brought it crashing down. More than anything, I’m scared for my little brother. I know bipolar isn’t something that magically disappears, and that things are likely to get worse, but I want those external stressors to go away and just leave him alone for half a minute so he can heal and find the right combination of meds and maybe, maybe get to��think about thriving rather than just surviving. I’m so grateful to my parents for finding the right things to do and say to help him recover. And I know that, if something goes horribly wrong, I can try to fill those shoes.

I’m still losing sleep, but only every now and then. People at work occasionally comment that I don’t look so good, but that’s much rarer than a couple months ago, and the people I’ve confided in are very kind and check in on me even when things seem to be going well.

After the move this fall, I’m going to find someone to talk to professionally about this. In the meantime, just typing this all out makes me feel a bit better. I am finding better ways to cope; I had to mute him on social media because my overwhelming tendency to overthink his posts was very dangerous (turns out that famous self-deprecating millennial sense of humor is terrifying when you’re trying to work out if someone’s in danger). I have a generally positive attitude about this, and I can now usually catch myself when I’m starting to spiral. I send my brother goofy links, and he sends me funny stuff in return. I’m going for runs and eating better and playing video games and hanging out with friends...

... and I’m genuinely very happy a majority of the time (not just content, but happy), which wasn’t true even a couple months ago.

I’m scared and angry and coming to grips with it being okay to be both of those things, as long as I’m also supportive and loving. This is my little brother. This is my family. They’re the best.

And all we can do is take it one day at a time.

#(no reblogs yes thank you)#eponymous family tag #mental health ///

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 6 years ago

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Episode 105: Know Your Fusion

“Cuz everybody loves a callback.”

While praising Kindergarten Kid, I talked about the subjectivity of humor, and here we have the downside. This isn’t a bad episode of Steven Universe, but it doesn’t matches my sensibilities, which matters quite a bit when comedy is its major selling point. Meta humor is tricky, and for me, Know Your Fusion pushes just a smidge too hard at that fourth wall.

I’m not against meta humor in principle: going off the discussion of Looney Tunes from Kindergarten Kid, no appraisal of Daffy Duck is complete without Duck Amuck, an uproarious deconstruction of animation. Steven Universe is no stranger to self-commentary, from Crying Breakfast Friends to Peridot’s teen drama fandom to Ronaldo’s whole shtick. Hell, we even have Say Uncle, a non-canon episode with similar energy to Know Your Fusion that I mostly enjoy!

But I’m not into this canon iteration of the joke. I don’t think Sardonyx switching from a theatrical egotist bound to her native dimension to someone who knows she’s in a cartoon feels natural, and I’m not compelled by talk show or game show parodies. I’m thrilled for anyone who does enjoy this type of thing, because it’s not as if the joke is executed poorly, it’s just not the kind of joke that I’m looking for in Steven Universe.

Part of the problem is pacing, which I’m happy to criticize independently from my personal mismatch with the humor: considering Sardonyx’s goal is to find out what makes Smoky Quartz unique, it’s absurd to have them try to recreate the abilities of other fusions. It gives us decent setpieces (and Aivi and Surasshu give us glorious recreations of the music that accompanies Opal, Sugilite, and Alexandrite) but the whole thing feels forced. There isn’t a moment where it isn’t obvious that these scenes aren’t going anywhere, so instead of progressing the plot it’s as if we’re just stalling for the eventual reveal that Smoky’s specialty is humor.

It’s a shame, because the episode starts strong: Steven and Amethyst are adorable rehearsing their reveal, and the presentation itself is amplified by Pearl going full mom mode and Garnet correctly answering that it was Peridot that beat Jasper. The older Gems aren’t quite patronizing, but there’s a sense of bemusement that translates well to Sardonyx’s more extreme attitude, in the same way Steven and Amethyst’s nerves translate to Smoky’s awkwardness. All the pieces are in place, but then the episode takes another eight minutes or so to continue hammering in the point that Sardonyx is a steamroller and Smoky doesn’t feel like they measure up.

None of this is to criticize Natasha Lyonne or Alexia Khadime, two guest stars who carry the bulk of Know Your Fusion by themselves. Lyonne seamlessly shifts from quippy to embarrassed now that Smoky is in a social situation that can’t be solved with yoyo, and Khadime fleshes out Sardonyx’s loud first impression with quiet sass and condescension becoming of such a diva. This is the longest amount of time we’ve spent with "guest fusions” (so not Garnet, who’s a lead, or Stevonnie, who I’d consider recurring), and it’s cool to see all four main Crystal Gems condensed into a duo.

It’s less obvious than Cry for Help, but this is the second Sardonyx episode that acts as a sort of sequel to Coach Steven. We get an aside about whether Nicki Minaj gets paid for archived audio (which is the only fourth wall joke I really loved here) and a Strong in the Real Way reference, but we also get a similar message: that fusion might be great, but it amplifies the bad as well as the good. Sugilite is awesome because she’s Garnet’s power and Amethyst’s vim, but the recklessness of both Gems doubles up as well. Sardonyx also has Garnet’s power, now with Pearl’s precision, but Garnet is a leader, Pearl is a control freak, and both can be insensitive when their minds are set, so Sardonyx is a big scene. And Smoky Quartz, whose existence sprung from Steven and Amethyst commiserating over their status as “the worst Gems,” is now shown to have their own issues with self-esteem. Relationships are important, but they don’t fix all your problems, especially if those problems are shared among all members of the relationship. It’s telling that the resolution comes only after everybody’s back to normal.

I feel that the conclusion takes too long to arrive, but when it does, it’s almost worth the wait: I think it’s clever as hell to wrap up a meta humor episode with a metaphysical action sequence, considering the existence of Sardonyx’s room hinges on an ephemeral being’s existence and every thing falls apart when this person stops being one person and is instead two people (but is actually three people, because one of them is also two people). This is the perfect episode to put this trippy scene, as we go from contemplating the nature of this show to the nature of its characters. It has a similar feel to Steven reaching the roof of the gauntlet construct in The Test, but trades the emotions for hi-jinks befitting the tone of Know Your Fusion.

And while the fourth wall jokes aren’t for me, it’s not the only comedy to be found here. Estelle’s extended shout of delight at Smoky’s arrival is amazing, and my unhealthy appetite for puns was sated by the abundance of wordplay. I don’t hate this episode, I’m just not the right audience. But don’t worry, I’m sure Sardonyx could make a better audience if that bums her out.

(There’s really not much to write about for this one, huh? Sorry for the self-commentary in a review about how I’m not into this episode’s self-commentary. We’ll be back to normal review length when we return to episodes I find more interesting, which is very soon.)

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

I wonder if this episode was ever gonna be called Self Study? The actual title is in there, just smaller, but it makes you wonder. I also love that Peridot is by herself while the less fusion-phobic characters are grouped; I’m sure she’s grown past this phase by now, but again, everybody loves a callback.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Episodes like this are why my “Enh” rating exists. But as a reminder, because this is the first episode that hasn’t at least made “Like ‘em” since Gem Drill, this is a personal list, not what I think the definitive ranking should be.

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

When It Rains

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

No Thanks!

5. Horror Club 4. Fusion Cuisine 3. House Guest 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#know your fusion #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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terriblygrimm · 6 years ago

Note

This may be a personal question, but if a television show were to represent a character as asexual, how would you want them to so? like in terms of stereotypes to avoid and handling it all respectively.

hey thank you for this :) it’s not a personal question i’m happy to answer!!

short answer: no matter what age the character would be, i’d just want someone to write a character, that’s it. the original character they had in mind- but make them ace. it shouldn’t be defining in any way, but aces just don’t dig people like that. just a normal element of a person’s life like anything else.

long answer: while asexuals can literally be anyone, i’d like for them to avoid the sterotypes of the “quiet, awkward, self conscious shy kid”. because i feel like people already #1, think asexuality is a phase, and #2 if they believe in it, associate it with people who don’t act like most people, or that aces are ppl afraid of intimacy. i just wouldn’t want them to perpetuate some kind of already ingrained idea of an “~outsider”. (not to invalidate any aces that are ace & have experienced trauma, but general audiences have the total IQ of a spork).

i’m not sure if you’ve seen shadowhunters but raphael santiago is an asexual vampire. and while it’s a supernatural show and he was a side character, they handled it with grace. he told his love interest he’s just not interested in sex and that he’s always been that way. she was fine with it and the story moved on! lol. he had his own character & it didn’t revolve around his sexuality, he was just simply part of the story with his part to play.

that’s how i’d want it handled tbh. asexuals are just regular ppl but we’re not sexually attracted to any gender. we want romance, playfulness, the whole shebang (unless you’re aromantic, but we’re strictly talking ace rn). i personally love romance - as in the idea of having a partner. the connection and all that entails. i like the warm fuzzies, i like cuddling, i like getting gifts and holding hands. but i’m not one for dating culture or fakeness, so you can see the hardship. in my experience with being ace, you’re basically someone looking at an ant hill. looking at all of these sex obsessed little ants weaving in and out of relationships, talking about sex, the media peddling sex, ppl talking as if sex is the endgame, constantly hearing shit like ‘how many ppl have you slept with?’ ‘i’d fuck him!’ ‘so and so is so hot’- just completely saturated with sex everywhere in every conversation and you’re just standing there like hm interesting. that’s the best way i can describe it lol. EVEN MY DOCTOR when i was a teenager told me i should “really get on that” when i told her i wasn’t sexually active. so.

i’ve known i’ve been ace since high school. i didn’t know the word for it until my 20s, which made me feel like i was on the outskirts, but it NEVER made me feel bad or self-conscious (i know i’m prob in the minority with that) but i never felt i was ~weird, just different. all my friends would talk about their crushes, who they found “hot” and they’d ask me what my “type” was and i’d honestly make things up lol. because i didn’t have one but i didn’t know what to say because i didn’t know this sexuality existed.

so point is, if they were to make a high school ace, or a coming of age ace- i’d just want it to be a typical kid who couldn’t relate to a sex obsessed world. who didn’t have those weird sexual phases in high school of wanting to hook up with ppl, and who didn’t have pictures of hot actors in their locker. but who also didn’t mind getting off or watching porn, or having a signficant other and experiencing nice things.

think loosely of a jughead jones a la s1 of riverdale. the first few eps. i FELT jughead. he gave off SUCH STRONG ace vibes. i was over the moon with his characterization before they ruined it, did a 180 and made him a boring hetero (and i stopped watching immediately bc aroace erasure can suck a fat one). but jughead was snarky, he was SMART, he could see things as they were, he was an introvert but wasn’t ashamed of it and had a best friend on the football team. just a regular kid who rolled his eyes at all of archie’s relationship problems lol. had no problem connecting to people but he just didn’t want to. & even before they turned him into a trainwreck, he felt shy around betty, wanted a fist kiss, etc. which are all things that i went through as well. the shyness, the crushes, the awkward first kisses, etc just like any other teen.

as an adult, i’m a sex-neutral ace that enjoys sex occasionally and getting off for stress relief and emotional relief. but do i ever want to have sex because of the OTHER PERSON’S PHYSICALITY? no. literally not once in my life. i’m not sexually attracted to people like that. i can find ppl hot, aesthetically appealing, but do i want them? no.

sorry for the tmi, but sexual experiences are important to address when talking about asexuality and discovering who you are in relation to it. it’s a spectrum and everybody’s different so the tldr version is essentially make them a REGULAR fully fledged character, just ace.

#ask #i hope i didn’t ramble too much #its kind of hard to navigate talking about personal experiences without going off on nonrelated tangents lol #i wanted to delve in a bit and not give a typical answer #but idk i hope this helped? send more questions if it didnt! i have no problem talking about #thank you for the question!! :)

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iatethepomegranate · 7 years ago

Text

DickTiger Week Day 6: Love Letter

I’m so tired help

Masterlist (including AO3 links)

Title: Scrapbook

Rating: Teen

Length: 2.3k

Summary: Dick and Tiger leave each other letters whenever they're apart.

Notes: Spoilers for the end of the Grayson comic.

Scrapbook

Neither Dick nor Tiger could remember who left the first letter, but it soon became a habit. Whenever one would be absent for a time, they would leave a note. They both left them for each other when on separate missions and Tiger would leave them when he rose early to pray.

Dick started collecting them, though he hadn't told Tiger. After Spyral, they were all Dick had to remember him by while Tiger took over the organisation and flew across the world on missions that required his personal touch.

This stretched on for months. Dick returned to Gotham, to Nightwing, to his family. But early every morning, no matter how tired he was, he would jolt awake as if expecting Tiger to be there, getting out of bed to pray.

He wasn't there, and now Dick couldn't sleep. One morning, exhausted and fed up, Dick found the file he kept Tiger's notes in. He'd managed to snag it while leaving his quarters at Spyral after the fight was over, having left it behind when the pair of them went on the run. They had left each other short notes on the backs of wrappers while going against Spyral, but most of those had ended up stashed in Tiger's vest pouches.

Dick laid the notes he did have out on the floor and began to sort them into chronological order, relieved that Tiger had dated every single one. Maybe he knew Dick wanted to keep them, even if fraternisation had technically been against the rules.

The first one Dick could find, though he was fairly certain there had been a few before, was dated for a mission Tiger undertook while Dick was recovering from a broken rib.

Do not break anything else while I am gone.

Tiger hadn't signed that one. That came later. He had still been too awkward about their relationship at this time, closer to frenemies-with-benefits than romance.

Go back to sleep. I will return soon.

Written the first time they had spent the whole night together, and Tiger briefly left to pray in the early hours of the morning.

Dick separated the morning prayer notes from the mission notes, and soon his bedroom floor was covered with papers. A physical representation of their time together.

Then he found another of the go back to sleep notes, a few months after the first. The one that made things all too real.

Prayer. Go back to sleep. I love you.

It was the first time Tiger had said those words in any form, and he didn't return to bed that morning. Dick had given him a few hours of space before sliding a note beneath his bedroom door for him to find later. Dick didn't have that one, but it had been short and simple and easy to remember:

I love you, too.

Dick missed him. Terribly.

He sorted the notes in an exhausted daze, and then ate three bowls of cereal. That ate up the time until stores began to open, so Dick threw on some clothes and headed down the street fuelled by coffee and loneliness.

He needed a scrapbook. Now.

Tiger had finally carved out some time to leave Spyral. He did not trust his agents to survive without him for long, but they had improved in the months since he had taken over. Long enough that he could visit Gotham for a few days.

Batman and his associates changed their communicator frequencies often, so Dick had not bothered to give him that. Instead, he gave a piece of advice: watch the batsignal.

So Tiger settled on a building close to the GCPD, but not close enough to raise alarm, and watched through binoculars every time the signal hit the sky. Batman arrived on the roof with Robin, a grumpy young teenager whose legs were growing faster than the rest of him. Nightwing joined them moments later. Perfect.

He tracked Nightwing's progress as he separated from the pair, flying south through the use of his grapnel launcher. Tiger followed, close enough that Nightwing would notice him, but not so close that he would be alarmed.

Nightwing landed on the roof of an apartment complex, leaning against the fire escape railing. Tiger dropped beside him.

“I thought it was you,” Nightwing replied. “Already radioed the fam. I'm free for the night.”

“Did you tell them why?”

“I told them I had a last-minute meeting with the new head of Spyral.” Nightwing started down the fire escape, beckoning Tiger to follow. “Pretty sure Red Robin has me figured out, but he won't say anything.”

They climbed down a set of stairs and Nightwing pressed a short code into a keypad on the nearest windowsill. There was a soft click, and he slid the window open.

By the time Tiger joined him in what appeared to be the bedroom, Dick had switched on the bedside lamp and discarded his mask, gloves and boots. He reached past Tiger to shut the window and remained close, turning his back.

“Unzip me?”

“Do you always get help undressing?” Tiger asked, dragging the zipper down from Dick's neck to his waist, letting himself stroke the exposed skin with the backs of his fingers.

Dick stepped out of his uniform and tossed it aside, standing in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts that Tiger couldn't believe had actually fit under his uniform. “No. But you were right there.” He slid Tiger's backpack off his shoulders and tossed it on the bed. “You hungry? I've got some leftover noodles in the fridge with our names on them.”

“Are you going to put clothes on?”

“Wasn't planning to.” Dick led Tiger out of the bedroom and sat him on the couch. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Dick's living room was only a few feet long, housing a couch, television and a coffee table buried under piles of... everything.

On top of the pile sat a photo album or scrapbook. The title read: Love Letters. Tiger knew Dick had taken his file of letters home with him, but if he had really put in the effort to preserve them like this...

Tiger picked up the book and brought it into the kitchen. “Is this what I think it is?”

Dick turned away from the microwave, eyes widening as he took in what was in Tiger's hands. “Uh, probably? Open it.”

Tiger set the book on the tiny card table and pulled back the cover. The front page held the title again, surrounded by pictures of various birds.

“Damian was going through a bird phase with his art,” Dick explained, staring into the microwave. “He only complained a tiny bit when I asked him to draw me something. Whatever he wanted. Spot the robin.”

A small robin red-breast was perched in the bottom-right corner. “Does he know what this is for?”

“No. He probably just assumed I was making a dorky gift for Barbara or something. I thought asking him to draw a tiger would be too much.”

Tiger turned the page, and came face-to-face with the first letter Dick had kept: Do not break anything else while I am gone. It was the most affectionate thing Tiger could manage when their relationship was new. A badly-drawn broken bone occupied a spot of honour beside it.

“Did you draw this?”

Dick looked over his shoulder and snorted. “Yep. Can you tell?”

“Sadly, yes.”

Dick shrugged. “I tried.” The microwave beeped and he pulled out a bowl of noodles. “Here. Take all this into the living room. I'll be there in a minute.” He shoved a second bowl into the microwave and turned it on. “Go on.”

Tiger sat on the couch and balanced the scrapbook on the one bare section of the coffee table. He barely touched his noodles, staring at his handwriting telling the story of their relationship... of Tiger becoming more comfortable with the concept of a relationship at all.

Prayer. Go back to sleep. I love you.

Tiger remembered being embarrassed as he wrote it, of avoiding Dick all day afterwards. He still had Dick's response, tucked into his backpack with all the other notes he had kept. He left his noodles balanced carefully on the couch and hurried back to the bedroom, where he dug a book of his own out of the bag.

Dick was on the couch with his own noodles when Tiger returned. “Ooh, what's that?”

“Why did you put my notes in a scrapbook?” Tiger asked.

“Couldn't sleep one morning,” Dick replied. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He rested the book on Dick's bare legs. “I did not draw anything. Sorry.”

Dick patted the couch. “Don't be sorry. You saw how bad my art was.”

Tiger sat back down and ate several mouthfuls of noodles while Dick paged through the book. Dick was always fun to watch, but especially now as his smile grew bigger and bigger with every letter he reread.

“Remember this one?” Dick asked, tapping one that just read: I love you too.

Tiger nodded, his throat suddenly too tight for speech. He had found it in his room the evening he spent the whole day avoiding Dick. For some reason, he had not expected Dick to say it back.

“I still love you, by the way,” Dick said.

“I love you too.” The words came more easily now than ever.

Dick kept flipping through the book. “Aw, you kept our candy wrapper notes. I'd hoped you hadn't lost them.” He smoothed down the wrinkled corner of one Tiger had written: I love you but please stop singing. Dick had written one in response: Please don't make me choose between the two greatest loves of my life.

Tiger's response to that had been short and to the point: You disgust me. He had meant it in jest, obviously.

“Being on the run was exhausting,” Dick said, “but I had a great time with you.”

“I feel the same.”

“Glad you didn't kill Helena and ruin everything?”

Tiger rolled his eyes, but still said yes. He had not wanted to kill her, but that had been the only option at the time.

“And look! We're together again.” Dick nudged him. “We should keep up the notes, you know. I like looking back on them.”

Tiger liked that, too.

Then they kissed, and he never wanted to leave again.

Their relationship continued in fits and starts and stolen moments for the next few years, until one day Tiger passed Dick an envelope after they'd spent their first night together in months... again.

“What's this?”

“Open it.” Tiger grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets to fight the nerves, relieved that Dick was focused on the envelope rather than him.

Dick pulled Tiger's note out, and a pair of rings fell onto the sheets. “No way.” He opened the letter so quickly that he almost tore it.

“Read it aloud?” Tiger requested.

Dick was already grinning wider than Tiger had ever seen. “Sure, babe. Dear, Richard. I apologise for the formality, but it seemed appropriate. We have spent so much of our time apart and it has given me time to think about our relationship. I have grown tired of seeing you once every few weeks at best. I want to see you every day. I want to wake up to your sleeping face, even when you drool on the pillow and talk in your sleep. I want to eat breakfast with you and watch your eyes slowly wake as the caffeine hits your system. I want to hear your praise your family whenever they achieve their goals, and I want to watch you reach your own. I want to spent the rest of my life with...” Dick trailed off, blinking rapidly towards the ceiling.

Tiger had spent so much time agonising over what to write that knew the letter by heart, so he kept talking, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than anything else in the world—and I really wish you were still reading this because I am embarrassing myself.”

“Shut up,” Dick said thickly. “Keep going.”

“I cannot do both at once.”

Dick elbowed him. “Fine. I'll do it. Richard Grayson, will you marry me?” He dropped the letter. “Of course I will, Tiger.” Then he leaned over and threw a second envelope into Tiger's lap. “Great minds think alike, huh? Shame I hadn't finished writing the letter, damn you.”

Tiger shook out a second pair of rings, and they laughed together.

Dick finished his letter and proposed to Tiger the following afternoon. Those letters became their wedding vows.

They reread their love letter scrapbooks every anniversary, and Tiger pretended he wasn't crying each time. Dick never teased him for it.

Years later, they still wrote little notes for each other and pasted them into a new, shared scrapbook. From the mundane to the just plain strange—from gone out to get milk to sorry babe had to rescue seventeen cats from the same tree—every note had its own little position of honour.

Every time they fought, every time they missed each other, they could look back on those notes and remember why they were sharing a life together. Even though they bought each other plenty of gifts over the years, from new plates to the world's ugliest shirt to an orange kitten they called Tony, nothing could ever compare to the gift they had given each other right at the beginning.

Neither Dick nor Tiger could remember who had written the first note, but that person had been a genius.

#dicktiger #dicktigerweek #dicktigerweek2018 #my dicktiger week posts #my fics

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theokotrain · 4 years ago

Text

Vestige - Chapter 2: As If You Know The Story

Wattpad Version

Well I have known you for just a little while

But I feel I've known you, I feel I've seen you when the Earth was split in fives

And in your words, I should let it out, I would see it die

But I'm a watcher, I see it watch her, it's in your afterlife

---

I stood by the pickup counter, lightly tapping my foot as I waited for the employee to ring the bell on the counter and shout my name. The café was surprisingly busy, much more so than I remembered it usually being. I had ordered two egg and cheese breakfast sandwiches, along with two coffees for Liam and I. There weren't many tables to sit at, so they were all taken. Thankfully, we weren't planning on eating in here anyway. While I was getting our breakfast, Liam went to the store a few doors down so we could get some groceries to last us the trip. He never really learned how to cook much, with the exception of instant ramen or microwave dinners, so I thought of this as a good idea to fix that. I wouldn't call myself a good cook or anything, but I used the shared kitchen in the dorms pretty damn frequently because I never signed up for the university meal plan.

I never really know what to do with my hands when I'm just standing around like this. I switched between checking my phone for notifications and then just putting my hands in my coat pockets repeatedly. I keep my eyesight generally trending towards the floor, trying to avoid making awkward eye contact with the other customers. While looking at my phone again, someone new walks up to the till right next to the order pick-up area. I don't look to see who it is, but I vaguely recognize the voice, a feminine one. I keep looking down at my phone, not wanting to say anything and risk it being a complete stranger. I hear her handing cash over the counter, thanking the employee a bit loudly. I guess she noticed my ears perking up from her voice, because she walks over to me as I pretend to remain ignorant of her presence.

"Jake!" She says, mildly surprised. "It's been a while! What are you doing back in Vestige?" I instantly recognize her. Ms. Addams, the therapist I started seeing in grade eleven. I didn't really think I needed to see a therapist back then, but my parents made me choose between that or weekly visits to the school guidance counselor who was notorious for preaching confidentiality and then telling the parents basically everything anyway. She turned out to actually be pretty cool, at least to sixteen-year-old me, and I kept seeing her up until I left for university, although pretty infrequently.

"Oh, Allison! I'm in town visiting everybody for spring break." I replied, in the most sincere voice I could conjure.

Her eyes widened, "Everybody? As in everybody everybody?"

"Yeah, everybody." I said, a smile of acceptance on my face.

"That's good to hear!"

"I probably wouldn't have done it if Liam didn't insist." I say, quickly realising that she has no idea who that is.

"Liam? Is that-"

"Friend from university. I asked him to come with me, probably against my better judgement." I say, jokingly.

"Ah, 'friend', right," She said, laughing. Allison was the one who helped me make the apparently obvious discovery that was my sexuality, so I was usually pretty comfortable talking about that stuff with her.

"Ms. Addams making a joke at my expense? That's definitely something new," I reply sarcastically.

"You aren't my client anymore, so there's no obligation to be entirely respectful, at least to some extent," She jokes, pausing for a moment. "So, is he here?" She says, subtly scanning the occupied tables. I always failed to understand how she manages to act so professionally when she needs to. That was a huge insecurity of mine back in high school when I wanted to be seen as an adult who could make his own decisions, to no avail.

"Nah, I'm just grabbing us breakfast." I said, realising that the food I had ordered was taking a weirdly long time to be ready. "But..." I grab my phone from my pocket, opening the photos app and scrolling, trying to find a specific picture. There aren't a lot of them since he's really picky about how he looks and makes me delete the bad pictures. After a bit, I found the photo I'm looking for, "Here," I say, turning the phone over to her. The picture was from back in October, when we went to an outdoor concert with Liam's friend, Nathan. October was always hit or miss when it came to warmth, and we definitely got a miss that day. Liam and I spent the last half hour or so of the concert in the back of Nathan's pick up truck with blankets, listening to the performance. The last song the band performed was pretty dramatic, and they set off fireworks during a really crazy guitar solo. So, I obviously had to seize the moment and get a picture of Liam with the fireworks in the background, even if it was just with my phone camera. That was probably one of the best photos I had ever taken, to the point that he actually asked me if he could post it online, which was pretty flattering.

"Aw, he looks really sweet!" She says with the kind of tone you'd use to talk to an eight-year-old.

"Yeah! It's too bad you can't meet him right now, I don't think he's gonna come in here, we're heading straight back to our place after this," I sigh, making an effort to have it sound mildly disappointed.

"I have an order for Jake?" The café employee calls out. I grab the bag with the breakfast sandwiches in one hand, and do my best to hold both coffee cups at the same time and thank the employee, turning back to Ms. Addams.

She looks off for a moment, thinking about something. "...You know, you should come to my office one of these days while you're in town! It'd be nice to see how you've been doing since you left." She says, smiling.

"I'd have to see what days would work, but that'd be cool!" I didn't really want to, but it would be nice to just talk to her, even if I didn't really need therapy anymore.

"Great! Well, my contact info hasn't changed, so just let me know!" She replies. My phone loudly pings, but I don't have a free hand to grab it from my pocket.

"Oh! That's probably him," I say, nudging my head down towards my pocket. "I should probably get going, but it was nice to see you again!"

"You too, Jake! I hope the rest of your trip goes well!" I nod in return and push the door open with my shoulder, trying not to spill any coffee.

I can see my car a bit further down the parking lot with Liam sitting in the passenger seat. It's a bit hotter out today than it was yesterday. At least, hot enough to actually start melting the small amount of ice still on the ground. Hopefully that means we could actually go outside during the trip without having to wear multiple layers. It was mildly busy, though for a town like this it's a pretty low bar to be considered such. When I get to the car, I have to set the coffees on the roof so I can open the driver's seat door.

"Hey! Run into any problems at the store?" I asked, handing him his coffee.

"Nope! Pretty sure I got everything you said." He replies. I grab my coffee off of the car roof and hop in the car. I put my keys in the ignition and start the car before taking a sip.

"Man, I ran into my old therapist in there, definitely not a conversation I was expecting to have today," I said, chuckling as I shifted into reverse, ready to pull out of the parking lot.

"You had a therapist? Like, in high school?" Liam asked. Yeah, I guess there's a lot I still haven't told him about myself.

"Yeah, parents thought I was depressed, didn't think so but it wasn't really up to me."

"...Were you?"

"Uh- I don't really know- probably? I never had to go on antidepressants or anything but it definitely helped with the teen angst."

"Oh my god, please tell me you had a rebellious phase, that's hilarious," Liam put his hand on his forehead as he laughed.

"Incredibly regretfully, but yeah," I replied, sighing, Liam still laughing. "What, you weren't also embarrassing in high school?"

"Of course I was! I was the nerd that no one wanted to be friends with!"

"Ohhhhh, so you were a walking high-school-movie stereotype?" I remarked, laughing.

"Jake, I didn't even go to high school with you and it is so clear to me that you were the misunderstood kid that desperately wanted to be different. Literal stereotype!" He retorted jokingly.

I paused for a second, "...Ok, that might actually be pretty accurate but you are literally a psychology major so it's not like it was totally obvious!"

"...So are you!"

"Yeah! But I mean, like- a good one! Important distinction."

"A 'good one'? Have you seen my assignments?" Liam laughed.

"You specifically don't let me look at them like half the time, so no." I said, smirking.

"Exactly! Cause they're garbage!" He exclaimed.

"I think we both know that's bullshit," I replied, looking over at Liam, his ears subtly twitch in response. For the relatively short amount of time I've known him for, it was very clear from the beginning how insecure he was about anything he did that was remotely creative. Although, he's definitely started opening up more recently.

As we drive down the highway towards the cabin, the morning sunlight reflects off of the lake. I've always hated posting pictures of myself online, so my social media pages were typically just taken up by landscape photos, and the lake was a huge subject for me. I thought I wanted to be a professional photographer growing up, and I took basically any photography course that I could find at high school. But for a small town school photography department, they were definitely limited in the availability of equipment that wasn't twenty years old. I eventually moved on to music as my main hobby- I mean, I didn't really think I was ever gonna do anything actually important with music, but I looked up basically any guitar lesson video I could find, and I've kinda kept with it ever since. Plus I got the benefit of being the annoying asshole with a guitar at any campfire or social event whenever I wanted. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't impress Ty back then, along with Liam now.

"Hold on- weren't we talking about your therapist? How did we get that off-topic?"

"Oh, right! There's not really much to say, I saw her monthly for most of high school, found out I was kinda depressed, probably fixed it - but who really knows - anyways this is not important because we have plans that need to be put in motion!" I say as I reach down for my phone and unlock it, handing it over to Liam while trying to keep my eyes on the road. "Can you go to the group chat I have with everybody? Ask them if they'd be free tonight to come over and we'd like make food and shit - you should probably word it better than that but you get the idea."

"Ah, a truly upper class vocabulary," He laughed, the soft clicking sound of the phone keyboard playing as he typed the message.

"I think they have to have gotten used to my inane word choice at this point," I said. I could tell we were nearing the cabin. "You could probably add your number to that group chat too, if ya want," I offered.

"Oh, uh, sure!" He responded, his tone faltering somewhat.

"...You don't have to if you don't want to?"

"No, it's cool! I just barely know them still, though" He said, ending with an awkward chuckle.

"I thought you and Elliot actually hit it off last night? Plus Alex really seemed to like you, too," I said, trying to reassure him.

"Well, yeah... probably just me being irrational anyway," He paused for a moment. "I don't think Ty directly spoke to me at all last night, either."

"Oh... yeah, I wasn't really paying attention to that. Sounds about right, though," I sighed, "Don't worry. He'll definitely warm up to you eventually, he's always like that around new people." I say as I turn into the cabin driveway. A soft silence continues on as I drive through the dirt and gravel up to the front of the cabin and shift into park. I hear the message send sound effect from my phone.

"Well, I sent the text and added myself." He exclaims, handing the phone over to me.

I grab the phone from his hand and give him a kiss on the side of his muzzle, "Well, we just need to go put all this away and we can head down to the water!" I said, attempting to change the mood.

"Is the beach, like, sand? I don't think I've actually paid attention to that anytime we've been on the highway," He asked, chuckling. I got out of the car and opened the backseat door to grab some grocery bags.

"Kind of, close to the water. Mostly grass, though, which is arguably better for sitting on," I answered.

"I think any sane person would probably agree with that, sand gets literally everywhere and you still end up finding it months later," He complained. I grabbed the bag with our breakfast sandwiches as well and headed to the front door.

"Oh definitely, that's the one thing I hated about going to the beach in Vancouver."

"Yeahhh, but I appreciate the ocean, so it kinda makes up for that."

"Really, a cat likes the ocean? I never would've expected that," I said, smirking.

"That's a stereotype!" Liam exclaimed. I looked over at him, sarcastically incredulous.

I have to set a few of the bags on the ground so I can grab the key out of my pocket. unlock the front door and swing it open. I head inside after picking up the bags, Liam following closing behind with the rest of them. "Did Shae go somewhere?" He asked.

"Yeah, pretty sure her parents needed her to do some stuff since she's in town," I replied. She didn't get specific about the details, she never liked talking about family stuff anyway so I was used to it.

"Ohhhh, right! I think she mentioned that yesterday," He acknowledged.

I set the bags on the kitchen counter and took another sip of my coffee. After making sure we got everything out of the car, we started unloading the food into the fridge and cupboards. I was planning on making a tofu stir fry for everybody tonight, hoping they were even gonna be able to come, given the kinda short notice. Which reminds me...

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the group chat.

Jake: Hey! Planning on making dinner tonight, would you guys wanna come over?

Yeah, he definitely worded that a lot better than what I said.

Shae: If I can get out of here in time to actually be there, then sure

Shae: if not ill just eat all the leftovers lol

Nobody else had replied yet, which made it obvious that Shae was bored out of her mind and probably just scrolling on her phone. Though the only one in the group who had a sporadic work schedule was Ty, so it was usually pretty typical to assume they were available back in high school, and Ty used to always tell me his schedule anyway so it wasn't a problem.

I then came to the very apparent realization that I had left Liam to finish putting away everything. And, not wanting to be an asshole, I go back and help him with the last few bags, an apologetic grin on my face. Although, he doesn't seem phased by it, so I don't mention it. Once everything's put away, I put my hands on my hips and look around the room, "So, we good to go?" I ask.

"I think so, let me go grab my jacket," He answered, and went to our room. I check the time on my phone, 11:43 AM.

"I should probably get a head start on that research paper today too, as much as I'd like to procrastinate it until the last second." I lightly shouted towards our bedroom.

"Oh! Right, ugh, thanks for reminding me," He shouted in return, clearly not excited about spending spring break writing on his laptop.

A few more moments pass as I drink my coffee, waiting for Liam. It tastes nowhere near as good as the coffee at the campus café, but I appreciate the nostalgia. Eventually, he comes back to the kitchen with his coat in his arms. I take our sandwiches and one of the blankets off of the couch and we head out the door. I stick close to Liam, leading a bit in front as we walk down the patio steps and down the driveway. Even if it's not necessarily summer weather, we should be good for an hour or two, especially with our jackets. The forest surrounding us is pretty thick, and is mostly pine trees so you can't see too deeply into it at all. The only thing on this highway past Vestige are houses, a campground, and a boat launch area for the lake. Most of which don't get any real use until the summertime, so cars were an uncommon sight out here.

"So, where is this place?" Liam asked, his voice somewhat faint from behind me. I turn around and he glances past me towards the highway. There's a small forest there blocking the potential view of the lake.

"It's a little path, kinda hidden. The owner of the cabin told me about it, you just follow it down and it goes to a little clearing by the water." I said, trying to point towards the path with the hand holding our food. The path is definitely not too noticeable to someone driving down the highway, but I can see it pretty easily from here. It's a small clearing between a few trees, with a visible lack of grass forming a pathway. The gravel driveway is not enjoyable to walk on, being a bit slushy from the melting ice.

"I'm starting to think I didn't need my jacket." Liam said. He was definitely right, the sun was beating down now, negating the effect of any wind-chill.

"It'll probably get colder by the water, so I wouldn't rule out a jacket so fast."

Liam quickens his pace, trying to walk next to me. We stop for a moment when we reach the road, making sure we don't get run over by some truck driver going thirty over the speed limit. The wind seems to pick up significantly here, ruffling my jacket sporadically. Standing at the entrance of the pathway, I can tell it's a bit of a bumpy walk down to the spot. I grab Liam's hand, leading him behind me down the small path. The ground is fairly uneven, and I almost trip a few times, trying my hardest not to take Liam down with me. I can see a bit of the water through the trees, and it doesn't look like the path goes on for long at all. There isn't much of any ice on the path, but the dirt is somewhat wet.

After a minute or two, we reach the clearing on the side of the lake. It's the exact same lake I've been so familiar with for about sixteen years, but I've never actually been to this part before. The sun is shining across the lake onto the nearby mountains, and the water is crystal clear. I had absolutely zero interest in swimming in a freezing cold lake, but it was a nice scene to sit next to. Liam made some comments about how adorable this place is, and I had to agree, at least for this specific area. The rest of the town? I might be a bit more inclined to object, but if he liked it, that was good enough for me. I hand Liam our sandwiches and take the blanket out from under my arm, unfolding it out onto the grass.

"You know, this is pretty cliché for a date idea." He says, I'm assuming jokingly from his laugh afterwards. We both sit down on the blanket as I grab the sandwiches out of the bag.

"Well- I wasn't really thinking of it as a date... Just like, I don't know, something fun to do I guess?" I said, my usual ability to construct proper sentences lacking. I hand him one of the sandwiches.

"I mean, that's literally what a date is."

"If you prefer to consider this a date then I am happy to oblige, but I usually put more effort into that stuff,"

"More effort? This is like, par for the course for the kinda dates I plan,"

"But there's so many variables! I can't just say 'Hey let's go here'" There's a light breeze rustling the trees around us as I take a bite of my breakfast sandwich. Just as good as I remember it.

"Can't you? We're doing that right now." He remarked.

"Yeah, but I didn't consider this anything special. And even then, I got the idea like three days ago and still had to do some planning," Liam laughed under his breath, "What?" I ask.

"It's just funny to me that you're the one putting all this effort into our dates," He says, smiling genuinely.

"...What do you mean?" I asked, taking another bite. We never really had actual plans for when we would spend time together, we would usually just suggest whatever came to mind. But I would still plan them a few days in advance. I don't really know why, I've just always liked having any potential issues accounted for, which would always kind of freak me out when I couldn't do that for spur of the moment plans.

Liam didn't say anything for a few moments, "...You remember yesterday, when you told Elliot how we met?"

"...Yeah?" I replied, not really knowing where this was going.

"That wasn't the first time we met." Liam said.

"What? Before the party? ...I honestly don't remember ever talking to you earlier than that." Hopefully this wasn't significant enough that I would actually be an asshole for not knowing the real first time we met.

"Yeah! I don't really blame you, it was like the beginning of our first year at university." He said.

"Really?"

"It was a group project for... I think it was the introduction to cognitive psychology course? I don't even remember what the project was about, but I made a couple friends in the class, and you ended up joining our group since we needed one more! And we obviously only really talked through the project group chat so I didn't know anything about you, other than I thought you were cute. I think I asked for your social media at one point? And you gave it and said you'd follow me back."

"And I obviously didn't." I said, kinda mad at myself.

"Yeah!" Liam exclaimed, laughing. "I didn't know you were gay at the time, so I didn't wanna embarrass myself, plus we didn't talk after that anyway so I only knew you through your online posts and from seeing you in lectures. Fast forward a year and a half, I went to that party with a few friends and you know the rest." He said as he put one of his arms around my shoulder, pulling me in for a side hug.

"Wow... How do I not remember that? I feel like I should remember that."

"It was almost two years ago, I don't remember at least ninety percent of the shit that happened that year, other than the usual stress about being a new student and having no clue what I was doing." He reassured.

"That entire year was basically one big blur, all I really did was go to classes and cower in my dorm room."

"Was Eric your dorm mate yet?"

"Yeah he was, I mostly just avoided talking to him until the second semester though, so I just huddled up in the dorm half the time while he actually had a social life," I joked, my self-deprecating humor in full-force.

"Well hey, now you got me to drag you places against your will!"

I didn't really know what to follow up with after that, so I opted to stew in my own mild embarrassment for a while as we finished eating our breakfast. I went to check my phone again, seeing if anybody else had replied to the plans we were making. To my surprise, everyone else was also able to come, which I wasn't expecting to be honest. I let Liam know and set my phone on the blanket. A fair amount of time passed as we sat there, enjoying the moment.

Before I got here, I made it a personal goal to use my phone, and technology in general, a bit less. I didn't tell anybody about that, just cause I thought it was kinda stupid, but I spent way too much time at university on my laptop - most of the time not even doing anything productive. So, I thought of this return to my hometown where they had barely started getting rid of dial up internet at the start of the decade as a good opportunity. Of course, there was no escaping the assignments we had to submit when the break ended, but I was still gonna try.

"Thanks for bringing me here, by the way." Liam said, suddenly taking me out of my head.

"...To the lake?" I replied, mildly confused.

"No! Well, that too- I mean on the trip! I know you were kinda iffy about bringing me to see basically your entire childhood." He said. I've started noticing recently that his voice gets a bit higher pitched when he's being sappy. I usually try to avoid being over-sentimental simply out of embarrassment.

"...well, this is only the second day! Believe me, you'll have plenty of time to start to regret ever thinking coming here was a good idea." I joked.

"I'm sure!"

As I finish the last few bites of my breakfast sandwich, I can hear Liam's phone going off in his pocket. He sets his sandwich back in the wrapper and grabs his phone. I can't see who's calling from the angle I'm looking at, and he answers it before I can move over.

"Hey! ...A few minutes away, why? Oh! Yeah! Yeah, just gimme a minute. Okay, we'll just be a minute!" He hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pants, "Did you lock the door to the cabin?"

"...Yeah?" I replied, thinking nothing of it.

He sighed, "Shae can't get in."

I groaned, dramatically, "I didn't think she'd get back until tonight!" I quickly stood up, "Wait here. I'll go let her in and come back."

"Hurry back!" He laughed, probably at how I locked the door of one of the most remote cabins within a fifty mile radius. Locking my door had become second nature at university anyway due to a couple guys breaking into my dorm and stealing some of my roommate and I's stuff, and breaking my TV. It happened early on in my first year, so I'm over it, but I still kept the habit of locking the door. Besides, Eric had his own key so it was never a problem.

Walking back into the forest brought the noticeable lack of noise to the forefront of my mind. All I could hear once again was the crunch of the leaves and ice underneath my shoes along with the occasional car driving down the highway. It's noticeably darker from the trees blocking any sunlight from reaching the forest floor. When I make it to the highway, I am greeted by fog, and lots of it. There's no way this much fog showed up here while Liam and I were down by the lake. Although, fog wasn't exactly uncommon around here, especially at this elevation near a mountain range. I start heading up the driveway, trying to see if I can spot Shae at the door. As the cabin comes into view, the only car I see out front is my own, and Shae doesn't appear to be outside. Maybe she found a way in? I step up the stairs onto the porch, the wood creaking under me. The whistle of the wind is high pitched, swerving throughout the nearby trees, rustling the leaves. I try the front door, seeing if Shae unlocked it, but it seems to be locked still. I grab the keys out of my pocket and insert them, unlocking the door.

As I go to open the door, my ears perk as I hear the sound of footsteps on the gravel near my car. I silently hope that it's just Shae, but my irrational fears seem to be taking hold. I walk over to the patio fence, looking to see if someone's down there, but there seems to be nothing, at least that I can see.

Fuckin- god.

I turn around and head inside, not wanting to deal with whatever bullshit is currently happening. I figure I'll just call Shae and see what's up.

"there's nothing for you in there."

#Vestige #Story #Novel #Novella #Chapter #Two #2 #As #if #you #know #the #story #as if you know the story #furry #gay #lgbt #writing #write #town #coming of age #book #wattpad

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trixterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Lycanthropy and Me, Part 1

I’m thinking of deleting this story.. But I’ll leave this here on this site in case I feel the need to revisit it again.

Day 1. Monday, Waning Crescent

It was the perfect time to start classes. The moon was waning, his bones were shifting back into place, and his urges were dying down. The Fall semester had actually begun a week prior, but the stress and his condition would have been a horrible combination--making a late admittance ideal. Honestly, this school had been a godsend--far enough from home to feel like an escape but with enough resources so that he could properly adjust.

There were enough early classes and night ones to take around his stages, and enough long walkways and ramps that he could navigate with his forearm crutches. He had to rely on them for a week each month, or longer depending on the pain.

At the request of his family, he checked in with the school's support group. It would be smaller than back home but he was sure having some sort of network would come in handy. After all, he was going to be stuck at this campus for another four years.

Hopefully.

He limped his way to the Grimwald building, across the large green lawn of activities and meetups. Leaves and earth crunched under his sneakers and a thousand smells wafted through his nostrils, but he kept his focus. His teeth poked into his bottom lip. Annoying, but he was used to it by now. He pushed the heavy wooden door open, and it creaked as he stepped inside. The tile floor had a layer of dust, the lighting was dim, as if the bulbs weren't getting enough power. He took off his shades, hooking them into his knit cap. Low lighting was good. He always got looks for wearing his shades on sunless days. People either thought he was blind or putting on some kind of 'cool guy' persona. Both were assumptions he tried to roll with.

Compared to the other buildings this one was eerily quiet and much older. There was a weird smell in the air, possibly chemical, like the rot of an old science lab. He wondered if any classes were actually held in the building. He found the door he had been looking for, 112, slightly ajar.

"Is this the Lycan..." His eyes scanned the room quickly. Inside there were four people seated in a semicircle. In front of them was a desk occupied by an intimidating, hairy, pale individual. They all looked back at Hunter, and a familiar jolt ran down his spine.

There was a large calendar with the phases of the moon on one wall, a stack of pamphlets on back and nerve pain atop a small bookshelf. The same bookshelf contained books with such lovely topics such as Pack Dynamics in Modern Society, Managing Phantom Limb Pain, and the biggest tip off title: Lycanthropy and me. "Got it. Nevermind." He put his crutches aside took his seat in the only vacant chair, next to a girl with fake wolf ears on her head adorned with multiple piercings.

"This should be everyone." The pale man said. "You may have sensed others on campus." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment."They are not new, so their presence at this meeting was not required." He gathered several of his long, blond dreads and set them over his back. "My name is Jermaine Garou. I act as Lycanthrope counselor. As for my official position, I am an English professor here. Do not hesitate to contact me if you have any problems adjusting." Despite his words, his gaze was steely and his tone was cold. Hunter wondered if it was a predatory thing. He had heard that happened when a Lycanthrope from another area appeared.

Professor Garou pushed several pamphlets forward. "This is a compilation of advice and information left behind by previous students. Also, this." He produced several blue whistles from a box. "Blow this in an emergency. Unexpected phase changing, especially. I expect that you have your own binding materials, but we do have a small budget in case you need quick entrapment. We want to avoid any dangerous situations. Everyone's shift is different."

Hunter couldn't agree more. Between the four students gathered two appeared completely unfazed, one had a cane, and one was trying not to drool. His time of complete normalcy would come next week, definitely not last long enough, and end with the half moon.

"Take a good look at the individuals in this room. They will be your allies--your network. There is no better support than your own kin. While you may be of different breeds, you are still in the same situation. Now, let us take a moment for short introductions. Just your name, associated pack, and field of study." His eyes fell on the boy sitting furthest from Hunter. "You first."

The first student was a tall, African-American teenager. A crescent shape was shaved into the right side of his haircut. "Malcolm Dupereon. Transfer student." His right leg bounced up and down. "I'm from the Waker Posse in Georgia...I'm studying Engineering." He gave Garou a nervous glance.

The professor gave something close to a smile and nodded. His eyes fell on the next student, a heavy-set young man of Mexican descent with a pudgy face. The young man appeared immensely bored. "Uh hi, my name is Tomas Martinez. I'm studying Graphic Design and Oh, I'm from the Albuquerque pack."

The next student, a girl, scratched at her arm."Serena Song. Massachusetts alliance. English Literature." She seemed less than thrilled to be there, her nose wrinkled and a glare in place. The girl with fake wolf ears was next. She seemed perky and her bell collar jingled when she spoke. "Ashley Smith from the Texas Reds. I'm studyin' Nursin' but my minor is Animation. I'm not sure if I'll switch yet."

When eyes fell on him, Hunter resisted the urge to slip down in his seat. His hormones were a bit of a mess, but he reminded his biological urges that these people weren't enemies and did his best to keep still.

"I'm Hunter Reeds, S- Sisss...Syracuse pack...S-Studying...Education...?" His tone reflected his confusion as even he wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet.

"I suggest you exchange contact information." Professor Garou advised. "As for myself, I am available for council during my extra office hours, 6:15-7:45 in this building, Monday through Friday. I can also be reached via university email. Do not use your personal e-mail, it will be recognized as spam." His eyes trailed over them. "Are there any questions?"

Ashley raised her hand. "Do we have any club activities? Bake sales? Howl-offs?"

"In the past the Lycanthrope students here would gather for a camp retreat over Winter break," Garou said, exposing his teeth before setting them back. "However due to several incidents, those trips were canceled. Howling is also not permitted on school grounds. It leads to law enforcement tracking down wolves in the area. To avoid any hunting of our brethren, I ask that you stifle yourselves. Be mindful of the fact that you are not at home. You must be aware of your surroundings at all times, and your shifting must remain discreet. This school will not shield you from harm. This is not a place for your...Bake sales." He repeated the words with a hint of venom. "This is your support group, not a social club."

"Aw." Ashley and Tom both looked somewhat disappointed but Serena was incredibly relieved. Hunter exchanged glances with Malcolm, who shrugged.

After an awkward exchange of phone numbers, Hunter hobbled back out of the building and put his shades back on. His eyes were sensitive to sunlight, another deficiency he held. Luckily for him, Fall was almost in full swing and cloudy days were ahead.

Redwood University's campus sprawled out around him, acres of grass, buildings of old and new designs, cement and cobblestone paths, and tall oak trees.

The campus was bustling with life and Hunter had no choice but to shuffle along with it, ignoring the throbbing in his legs. The occasional jolt made him freeze on the spot and gum up the foot traffic around him.

He took shelter from the sun and bustle in the school library, a three-floor annex full of books, school artifacts, and other media. Libraries were a frequent refuge for him as they were quiet, book-filled, and always had seats.

The first floor had stained glass windows, remnants of the building's former life as a church. The pews and the clergy were long gone, but the atmosphere was still there and students often reported seeing the ghost of a pastor wandering between the bookshelves.

Hunter sank into a seat at one of the many long wooden tables, put his crutches aside, and put his headphones on. He dozed off for a few minutes, to recuperate his strength. It had not been long since the last moon. His mind was much clearer, but his body was still worn out.

With some energy restored he awoke a few moments later. Hunter opened his eyes and stretched, yawning a little too loudly. He quickly looked around. No one was looking his way but his face burned with embarrassment. He grabbed hold of his crutches and slipped into a corner.

Ever since he had arrived on campus, he felt as if someone's eyes were constantly watching him. Often when was in public spaces, someone looked at him pity, perhaps moved by the sight of him hobbling on crutches. Often he was asked if he had been in an accident, and prayers or well wishes were sent his way, but he never alluded to the truth. What could he say? Oh, don't worry about it, just that darn Lycanthropy acting up again.

He adjusted his headphones and started a song to distract himself. It was too early in the day for self-pity. At this rate, he would be crying in an hour. It was the wolf edging him on, the moon still heightening his emotions.

While alone in the anthropology section, the smallest and tightest squeeze between two rows, Hunter was startled when something rubbed against his butt. He yanked his headphones off and whipped around.

There was a young man behind him trying to squeeze past. He looked to be around the same age, late-teen to twenty-something-or-other. the stranger blinked down at him in surprise.

"Oh, sorry."

With Hunter facing him they were almost groin to groin, and stomach to chest. Admittedly Hunter wasn't very tall...

The guy was slim but built, suggesting a background in sports. He was of Asian descent with brown, almond-shaped eyes and jet black hair, kept neatly spiked. The stranger's aftershave, sweat, and toothpaste hit Hunter at once. It was a strange combination of smells, with something salty underneath. Hunter blinked at him, well up at him. The guy was easy on the eyes, to say the least.

"It'sss alright." Hunter's speech was slurred. "It's a pretty good surprise."

That definitely sounded like a come-on.

But in the time it took to process it, Hunter knew he couldn't take it back.

The stranger's eyebrows shot up so fast, Hunter thought they'd disappear.

His face grew hot. He could only blame his actions on the lupine side of the brain. The moon was still waning and his mind was currently closer to wolf than guy. And that meant making his interest in any person known, whether he wanted to or not. The fact he had just run into several of his kind didn't help.

"Really?" An amused smile. Not what he had expected.

"Yeeeaah...?" The word was dragged out as he attempted to go with the flow of conversation.

A chuckle ebbed out from the stranger. Chuckles were good, right?

"I suppose from where I'm standing..." His voice lowered an octave. "I could say the same."

His bass tone hit Hunter like a ton of bricks. Was he flirting? Were they flirting? In a corner? In a library? What?

"I'm Grayson Lee."

"Hunter." Came the quick reply, coupled with nervous laughter. He was sure that this guy now thought he was a psychopath.

Grayson didn't think that at all. "Are you new too or--"

"Just started today." He clenched his teeth to keep control. There was a flood of inappropriate comments filling his mind and self-perseverance was the only thing keeping them at bay. He moved away from Grayson, his crutches clinking against the bookcase behind him.

"Oh, late transfer?"

"Something like that..."

As his teeth were clenched, his canines were cutting into his mouth. Now that he was away from home he could have them filed down. "So, what brings you to...Anthropology?"

Grayson smirked. "A textbook hunt. My professor said I could use an old edition instead of buying one." The look in his eyes changed. "Are those--"

Hunter stared at him, unabashedly as the wolf side memorized as much as possible. There were so many things he could do now that he was away from the pack--

"--Your real teeth?"

The comment came like a smack in the face. It wasn't the first time he had heard it, but it stunned him nonetheless. "Y-Yeah u-um..." While part of him decided it wasn't a big deal, another part decided that was the perfect time to cry. His vision warped.

"I...I'm gonna--" He began to quickly shuffle back out of the tight space. "J-Just go, so..."

Grayson's face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Hunter continued his quick retreat. He looked back for a split second and ignored the stinging in his joints he received from moving too fast. "Nope. no big deal!" His voice echoed in the mostly quiet library and he shuddered at the several 'shh's' that seemed to come from nowhere. He thought he heard Grayson say something else, but he continued on.

Several hours later Hunter rolled out of bed in his dorm room. In truth, it wasn't so much a 'room' as it was a repurposed closet. There was enough space for a desk and a twin-sized bed, and a small rug, and a wardrobe. To make it homier, he had put up blackout curtains and changed the light bulbs to keep things not-so-bright. His strategy worked all too well, as he dozed off and overslept.

His first class took place that night--in ten minutes. He moved as fast as he could, aware that his destination, the Rosewood building, was at least a twenty-minute hobble. He slipped the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder, hooked his sunglasses into his hat and grabbed his crutches. The odds weren't great, but at least he could try.

He arrived twenty minutes late.

He opened the door and it groaned. The door was located at the front of the room, and several pairs of eyes went from the professor to Hunter's face. Not many had signed up, something he expected from a night class. He pushed his shades down for a moment to squint at his new teacher; a tall individual with a paper white complexion. The tips of his eyes and nose were red as if he had just been pinched. His dark brown hair was slicked back in place. His attire, a three-piece suit, reminded Hunter of the teachers he had seen in old movies.

"Is this English 1245?" Hunter asked.

Rather than answer the question, the man stated the obvious. "You're late."

Hunter bore his fangs then. His wolf side didn't like the man's tone. He covered his mouth with his hand in an effort to suppress it. "Sorry, it took me a while to get h--"

He was cut off. "Take a syllabus and have a seat."

Hunter snatched a paper from the stack, causing several to fall off the professor's desk and onto the floor. The man sighed in irritation as Hunter braced one arm against the desk and tried to bend to pick the handouts up. His knees buckled, his left leg throbbed, and his shades fell off his face.

His professor did not move.

Two students rose from their desks to help retrieve the fallen papers and sunglasses, putting a quick end to what could have been a ten-minute struggle. He thanked them and took a vacant seat in the front row by the wall. He put his shades on and read the board; Professor Lugosi English 1245-2110A.

"Now." Lugosi turned to the second page of the handout. "Before we were interrupted, where was I..."

Hunter snapped a pencil in half.

Lugosi looked away from his syllabus. "Is there a problem Mister...?"

"Reeds. And no." He sucked in his breath before muttering. "Nothing I can fix anyway..."

He spent the next twenty minutes glaring at Lugosi, who closed the class with a lecture on the importance of time management, at which point Hunter growled audibly. When the class ended Hunter shuffled out quickly, assured by a few whispers that he would be known as the 'crazy handicapped guy'.

That night he had a dinner of beef jerky and potato chips before breaking down and taking an antidepressant. This wasn't how he expected his first day of college to go. Things will get better, he told himself as he wrapped himself in several blankets. There was no way tomorrow could be any worse.

Days 2-7, Waning Moon

Day 2-Tuesday-Waning

Fat raindrops dribbled down the window of Hunter's dorm room. The sky was wonderfully gray. Hunter gathered his things and headed to the showers. The hot water felt amazing. He would have stayed in the shower longer, but there were only eight stalls and a line was forming outside.

Hunter stopped at the mirror. His reflection showed dark skin, bags under his tawny eyes, brown bed head hair poking out from under a thin shower cap. Several beige scars crept up near his neck, disappearing beyond the neck of his t-shirt. As he brushed his teeth alongside a row of other students, Hunter felt an odd sense of community. He didn't know anyone in his dorm, but if they made eye contact they would exchange hellos and good mornings. People made space when they saw his crutches, no questions asked. The generally friendly mood was already helping him forget the previous day's chain of events.

He decided to splurge and have breakfast in his dormitory cafeteria. It wasn't as big as the main one, and the food was limited, but the smell of sausage was enough to get him to fork over his cash. He sat by a pillar, using it as a rest for his crutches. He paid for extra meat and eggs--one large breakfast was all he needed daily due to his small frame. Just as He shoveled a forkful into his mouth, a voiced called to him.

"Reeds?"

Hunter looked up, his mouth full. Standing across from him was a somewhat familiar face--Malcolm Dupereon. He also had a plate of mostly meat. "I didn't know you dormed in here." He smiled, sitting down. "I thought I smelled some kin."

Hunter chewed and swallowed. The taste of meat had overtaken his other senses. "Mm. Did you start classes yet?"

"Started on the seventh last week," Malcolm said, stabbing a sausage link. "Phased in an' out. Mine get real short in the fall y'see. But longer in the springtime."

"I'm just about done riding it out." Hunter enjoyed another two forkfuls of meat and eggs. "Mine can be long."

"Yeah? Like what, a day?"

Hunter felt a stab of jealousy. "Oh yeah, something like that..."

They wolfed down their food in silence for a moment.

"So..." Malcolm came up for air. "How big is your pack?"

"About thirty near me."

"Nice."

"You?" Hunter chewed.

"Mm." Malcolm gulped down his orange juice. "About the same. You know how it is. People move in, people move out."

"Yeah. People are always moving from one pack or tribe to another..." Hunter kept his gaze on his food.

"Can't wait until next week." Malcolm kept the conversation going. "Then it's goodbye cane!"

Hunter gave him a small smile, not worried about his teeth for once. "Yeah, same for these crutches." Phases aside, they could both be ecstatic about the coming week. The new moon approached--a point at which their Lycanthropic urges would dwindle down to near non-existence.

"Bless the new moon." Malcolm sighed. "Smooth sailing for the rest of the month for me! How about you?"

"Well..." Hunter scratched his head. There was no reason he couldn't be honest about his condition. "I start to get back pain when the full moon creeps up. Then I'm ticked off 24/7 until the half moon is back."

Malcolm nodded in understanding. "Same thing here! I'm a rage monster during big moon week! Aw man, I dunno how I'm gonna do it." He shook his head. "My Momma's worried about me. She's trying to come down here with a cage. I don't know how my roommate's gonna feel about that..."

"That's one thing I'm not worried about." Hunter replied with a sudden need to boast. "My room might be the size of a shoebox, but at least I'm by myself."

"Ha! Lucky you! You got room for your binding stuff?"

Hunter's smile waned. "I've got space by the window..." He inhaled and exhaled. He had told himself that he could do this, but suddenly the thought of shifting alone sounded scary.

Malcolm could sense his fear. "If you feel yourself flippin' out early, let me know. I got your back."

"Thanks. And uh, same here. I'll help if I can."

Malcolm checked his wristwatch. "I thought had more time. Gotta book it." He shoveled the rest of breakfast into his mouth, chewed and swallowed as he left the table. "See you around!"

Hunter waved at Malcolm as he left and finished up his breakfast. He had managed to have a coherent, pleasant, conversation. Things were already looking up.

He got to his next class early, sat in the back, and blended in. For the following one he tried to do the same, but a leg cramp made him ten minutes late. However, his professor was understanding and carried on with the lesson as if nothing had happened.

At the end of the day, he returned to his dorm feeling more optimistic. He could do this, he decided. He could make things work.

Day 5-Friday-Waning Crescent

It was early in the morning, hours before sunrise. Hunter was awakened by a text message. He blinked at the bright screen in the dark. It was from the wolf-eared girl.

Hey Y'all it's Ash♡ I'm tryin 2 put a trip 2gether 4 ~*winter break*~ Let me know if ur interested ;) ;○((Redwood pack))

"Redwood pack..." Hunter closed his eyes. "Is that supposed to be the five of us?"

Malcolm seemed nice enough, but he felt closer to the people in his dorm than he did to the others. But maybe that would change with time. After all, they were all separated from their respective packs. Maybe there were plenty of his kinfolk, bonded into a larger pack, and awaiting their arrival. Garou had confirmed that there were more of their kind on campus. He wondered how many there were.

Day 7. Sunday, Waning Crescent

Hunter's shoulders tensed. Something wild drew near. He knew that scent. Another werewolf. While it was hard to put into words, he could pinpoint it instantly. He braced himself. The moon's effects were still waning. Would they be hostile? Territorial? He turned around.

"Hey. You like anime?"

Hunter looked down at the flyer in the individual's large hand. Today was the day of the club fair.

The campus lawn was covered with booths and tents for groups and clubs varying from such subjects as Tennis and Fencing to Air Hockey and Hamboning. The half moon had passed several days prior, and Hunter was already feeling much better. He had abandoned his forearm crutches for a hinged leg brace and wandered across the campus lawn. While in line for free food he found himself behind another of his kin--Tom Martinez. The stocky teenager was sweating heavily, a large patch of sweat was spreading on the back of his band t-shirt. He wiped his face with a small towel as he waited for a reply.

"Not really...Some of them, I guess." Hunter shrugged. "Why, did you join?"

"That wolfgirl Ash, is in the anime club." Tom blinked and adjusted his sunglasses. "If you get too close to their table, she'll make you dance with them." He warned.

Hunter tried not to laugh. Was that why Tom seemed so worn out? "I guess she already caught you then. Thanks for the tip."

The line moved ahead.

"Did you get that text the other night?" Tom asked, looking back again.

"Oh, yeah...The trip." Hunter shrugged. It seemed like Tom was trying to make conversation, so he figured he should oblige his kin."I don't know if I'm going back home for Winter Break or not. I mean, it seems like she wants to make it a group thing but--"

"We aren't a pack." Tom said flatly. He rubbed his neck. "I mean, no offense, but we just met a few days ago. We don't know if we have anything in common besides...y'know."

Tom's response took Hunter by surprise. "Do you miss them a lot? Your pack?"

"Well yeah." Tom's voice went up an octave as if it were obvious. "Don't you?"

Hunter pushed his sunglasses back. "Yeah...some of them anyway. I wasn't in the best terms with everyone when I left."

"What happened?"

Hunter gave an irritated stare, lost behind his dark sunglasses. Tom was giving him a strange vibe. He couldn't tell if Tom was genuinely interested in the conversation or not. Still, he gave an honest reply. "Alpha trouble."

"Oh..." Tom blinked and turned back. They had finally made it to the front of the line.

"Sorry folks!" One volunteer hollered. "We're out of hotdogs!"

Tom and Hunter both grumbled in disappointment before glancing at each other and laughing.

Hunter's phone rang then. He looked at the screen. "Oh, hang on. I gotta take this." Stepping off the line, he answered the call. "Mom?"

"Hi, Baby. How are you doing?" He could hear the worry in her voice. "Is everything going okay?"

"I'm okay." He tried to assure her with a confident tone.

"Are you still on crutches or can you walk now?"

"Brace today, so I'm doing good. You?" He walked near a tree. Tom was walking towards him with a styrofoam plate of hamburgers. "Are you in the city?"

"Yeah, I'm still down here. I have to go back in a few days."

Hunter heaved a heavy sigh.

"They aren't gonna get anything out of me." She assured him. "I don't care who shows up on my lawn. Bring the Alphas, Cops, the full pack--They're gonna get knocked out if they try to mess with my baby. Lena Reeds don't play."

Hunter bit his lip to suppress his snickering. He knew she wasn't joking. While his mother was not a Lycanthrope, she could still take one down. "Stay out of trouble. If anything, you can always stay down there with Auntie."

"And who is going to take care of my garden? Miss Luna's gonna kill my plants. Look, I was just calling to make sure you're okay. If you need me to I'll come up for the full moon."

"No thanks." He took a burger off the plate Tom held towards him. "I think I've got this."

"Okay, sweetie. Gotta go. Love you."

"Mmhm." He chewed. "Bye."

Day 8. Monday, Waning Crescent

Heavy rain set in midday, prompting Hunter to stay indoors. He swathed himself in blankets and checked through his messages. Much to his surprise, there were inquiries from his pack members about his whereabouts. Hunter kept his replies limited to short text messages. He wanted to tell them more, but it was too risky. There was no telling who might read or overhear his location. He tried to distract himself by binge-watching a show on his phone, but loneliness crept up on him. He looked at Ashley's text again. Sure, they weren't a pack, but they could at least be friends.

He awoke that evening to rumbling thunder. The sky was dark. He checked the time.

Unfortunately, he was going to be late to Lugosi's class again.

He moved as quickly as he could across the lawn. His leg brace didn't make things easy. Hunter slipped in the grass, landing on his butt in the wet dirt. His hands stung from dragging himself up, but he continued on his way.

He arrived twelve minutes late.

Lugosi didn't seem surprised. His permanent pinched expression had not changed. "I thought you would have taken heed from last week's lecture--"

"I'm....ugh...sorry..."

"You already have one absence--"

Hunter leaned against the door frame."I transferred late--"

"And two latenesses already." Lugosi continued as if Hunter never spoke. "As written in the syllabus, two latenesses equal one absence. After 3 absences you will be removed from the class. Redwood University's rules are very clear. Perhaps you would be better off at a smaller institution? Something that would cater to your..." He looked down at Hunter's muddied jeans. "Condition."

Hunter's eye twitched. If they had this exchange a week earlier, his wolf side would have sent him charging across the room. Perhaps he would have tackled the thin man to the ground and bit down into his neck. Would campus security be called? Would it be on the evening news?

"Are you with us, Mr. Reeds?"

Hunter staggered over to a seat in the front row. "I'm sorry Mr. Lugosi." Frustration made his eyes water. He kept his gaze on the desk. "It won't happen again."

After the class ended, Hunter was in a sour mood. There was no special lecture on attendance, but the remark about his 'condition' did a number on him. None of the other students had said a word either. As his class was held in the same building as the English department, he decided to go up to the office and make a complaint. He tried to remain optimistic. If complaining didn't work, perhaps there was still time to change classes.

Other late classes had just come to an end, and only a handful of students and faculty remained in the building. The occasional set of footsteps echoed as Hunter made his way to the office.

Not only had the office closed, but a notice on a bulletin board told him it was too late for course changes. He leaned his head against the department door for a moment and took a deep breath. His vision was blurring again, with tears threatening to fall at any second.

Normally he wouldn't feel so emotional, but he knew it was his wolfside edging him on, making every small issue much bigger. With a frustrated growl he turned quickly, causing a loop on his messenger bag to snag onto the door. Hunter yanked at it with too much force and the bag flipped, scattering his belongings across the floor.

He paused and stared at the mess he created. How hard did he have to fight to make this work? He steadied himself against the wall and tried to crouch down. While his joints were better due to the coming new moon, bending his knees was far from a walk in the park.

He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. As he reached for his planner he heard footsteps against the linoleum.

A stranger knelt down in front of him. "Let me help."

Hunter blinked away his remaining tears. He recognized the person helping him. It was the boy from the library. Sadness was replaced with embarrassment and confusion as Hunter watched the young man collect his belongings from across the floor.

"We meet again." Grayson smiled.

Hunter looked at him over his sunglasses, speechless. The last time they had met he couldn't get himself to shut up. Now, he couldn't speak at all.

Grayson's smile drooped. "Do you remember me?"

Hunter nodded his head slowly, still trying to remember how to talk. This doesn't have to awkward, He told himself. The wolf isn't even here to mess things up. Now speak.

"I remember. Thank you." He blinked. "Uh, for helping me...not for before, uh well..."

Perhaps being silent wasn't so bad. Hunter stuffed his things back into his messenger bag and closed it tight. "Sorry. It's been a long week."

"Already?" Grayson raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with the rest of it then."

"Grayson!"

Hunter looked down the hall. A small group was watching them. One guy in a letterman jacket asked, "You still coming?"

"Yeah! Go on ahead!" Grayson called back before returning his attention back to Hunter. "We're going to the mess hall over in the Green building. You wanna come?"

Wallow in self-pity or eat with strangers? It didn't take long for Hunter to think it over. "I can go."

Hunter tried to pull himself up, but Grayson offered his arm. He was everything Hunter wasn't--tall, muscular, he had a normal set of teeth....It didn't seem fair.

Grayson's friends had gone on ahead. It was understandable, as the hour was late and the Green building's mess hall would likely stop cooking within the hour. The other kitchens on campus had closed hours before, and Hunter felt bad for any hungry individuals who didn't possess any rations of their own.

He followed Grayson into an elevator.

"So." Grayson tapped the L button. "About the other day...I'm sorry--"

"They're real." Hunter rubbed his hands together, drawing out nervous energy. "It's a valid question, it just doesn't come up as often as you would think. I mean, I'm from New York." He gave Grayson a sideways glance. "I'm far from the weirdest thing you're gonna see there."

"Ah. Gotcha. I'm from Boston." Grayson replied. "What brings you out here to Redwood?"

"Not too far, yet not too close to home." Hunter shrugged. The elevator doors opened. They stepped out, following the remaining teachers and students back into the night air. The campus grounds were mostly hidden in the dark, except for spots lit by old-fashioned lamp posts.

Hunter caught a glimpse of the tiniest sliver of the moon before it was covered by the clouds.

"And uh, why did you come Redwood?"

"A recruiter came to my school."Grayson shrugged. "I didn't have anywhere else in mind, so it seemed like a good idea."

They walked side by side down a concrete path that ran alongside the grass. The land sloped downward, leading to a stone staircase, and at the foot of a hill sat their destination.

The Green building was the heart of the Redwood campus. It was large and mostly green tinted glass, connecting to several smaller buildings by short bridges of more glass and steel. It was often the host of parties in bad weather and featured the largest cafeteria on campus, earning it the nickname the 'mess hall'.

After quickly moving down the sloping path, Grayson looked back to see Hunter still making his way down. He wasn't sure what to say. When they first met, Hunter had been on crutches but with no visible injury. He wanted to ask, but he was worried he would get a negative reaction.

"Tired?" Was the best he could come up with.

"A little." Was all Hunter would say.

They entered the building and crossed the lobby filled with Redwood maps, awards, banners, and other forms of 'propaganda' for the college. Hunter half expected a small tour of starry-eyed teenagers and parents to come waltzing by, but it was too late at night for that to happen.

The mess hall was a wide circular room filled with long, lacquered wood tables and matching benches. Food and beverages were either acquired by using one of many vending machines or joining one of three lines for sections against the wall labeled 'Meals', 'Snacks', and 'Salads'. A closed 'Juice and Coffee' stand sat in one corner. Speakers pumped in upbeat music, and several flat screens found around the room displayed different shows.

The room was crowded. Grayson looked around for his classmates until Hunter tugged on his shirt and pointed to the far left. They made their way over to the table and squeezed onto the remaining space at the end of two benches.

Introductions were short, as one of Grayson's classmates launched into a rant about their shared class. Hunter felt alienated instantly. The group ate from shared bowls of chicken strips, wings, and fries, but Hunter kept his hands on his lap all the while. It reminded him of his first trip to New York City. He had gone with a small group to see some relatives, and came through on a train to Grand Central station. While making their way around, he had been separated from the group in Grand Central's largest hall, the main concourse. There he was surrounded by more noise, light and people than his eight-year-old self had ever seen in his life. Never before had Hunter had never felt so truly alone. So he howled.

Now, Hunter kept his mouth shut. His English class already thought he was crazy. There was no need for Grayson or his friends to think the same. He rubbed his hands together again. Did everyone get this feeling when they moved away from home? This strange, creeping loneliness?

"Do you have any teachers bugging you?" Grayson asked, looking directly at him. Perhaps that was the topic of conversation.

"Yeah." Hunter joined in to escape. "Lugosi. He's the worst."

"What did he do?" Grayson asked, staring at the fry basket.

Hunter realized he had not seen Grayson eat since they arrived, but thought nothing of it. "I showed up late to class last week. My legs were bothering me, you probably noticed the crutches I had." Grayson nodded and he continued, feeling multiple eyes on him. "Anyway, he made a big deal out of it and gave a speech on the importance of attendance. Then this week, he suggested I wasn't right for Redwood because of my...'condition'."

"Because of your condition?" One person repeated. "He sounds like a jerk."

"My friend had him last semester." Another person chimed in. "He made some dude cry. He has tenure here though, so the school won't kick him out no matter what he does."

"Is that why you were by the English office?" Grayson asked, looking concerned. "Were you going to complain?"

Hunter rubbed the back of his neck. "Something like that." Part of him wanted to cry again. "Or just switch classes."

"The deadline was yesterday, dude." Another person replied. "Sorry."

Hunter let out a heavy sigh. "I guess..I'm just going to have to deal with it." He rubbed his hands again in a nervous gesture. "Maybe camp outside the door for a few hours. Get the door opened by maintenance. Sit at his desk. Wait until he walks in. Tell him I'm the teacher now." He spoke with a deadpan expression and monotone delivery, causing several people at the table to laugh, Grayson included. Hunter ignored the warm feeling in his chest and adjusted his sunglasses. They spent the next hour swapping stories about weird teachers past and present, until the kitchen was officially closed, and the mess hall began to empty out.

To their dismay it was raining again, albeit lightly.

"So, which dorm are you in?" Grayson asked, unfazed.

"Howard." Hunter replied as he hooked his sunglasses on his t-shirt. It was dark enough that he could see without them.

"I'm headed that way."

"Oh--kay."

Their group had dispersed, leaving them alone. As they began to trek back up the hill, the rain grew heavier. Hunter fumbled with the railing. He stopped on a step to rub the fat raindrops away from his eyes. Grayson stopped two steps above him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah--" Hunter tried to pull himself up onto the next step, but his right foot slipped and he toppled forward. Hunter was expecting to hit the pavement. Instead, his face smacked into Grayson's chest. He could feel two hands holding him steady. "Nice catch." He said into the taller boy's shirt. As he pulled away he found himself staring into earnest eyes. "It's okay." Grayson smiled, his hands on Hunter's shoulders. "I've got you."

Hunter was grateful for the rain just then. It hid his tears well. What Grayson had done seemed like a simple gesture, but he had done more than keeping him steady. He was keeping him grounded.

"Thank you." He reached for the railing. Grayson let go of his shoulders, but offered his arm. Something in Hunter's eyes suggested he could use some support in more ways than one.

It wasn't necessary, but Hunter took it anyway. He'd take advantage of Grayson's kindness, if only for a moment longer.

Once they had finished climbing the stairs, the rain lessened to a slightly lighter amount. Hunter took a moment to look at the dark, soggy campus. The once intimidating buildings looked worn and welcoming.

The Howard dormitory sat only a few feet away. The next closest dorm was another ten-minute walk and across the green--The Fox building.

"Well, that's me." Hunter said, squeezing some of the water out of his hat.

Grayson nodded. "Mmhm." He gave the Howard dormitory a pensive glance, as if he were trying to figure out its secrets. The rain had finally stopped.

"I guess I'll..." As Hunter turned to walk towards the building, Grayson fell into step with him again. "See you around?" They were both headed to the front door.

Grayson frowned as he pulled his wet t-shirt away from his stomach. "I don't have anywhere to hang this in my dorm. Is the laundry in Howard still open?"

"Yeah."

"Great. I just want to throw this stuff in the dryer for a minute."

In the blink of an eye, Hunter found himself in the basement laundry room. The room was small despite the large number of students living above--121 to be exact. There were only four washing machines, three chairs, three dryers, and two folding tables. Hunter leaned against one table, next to the heater that their bags rested on. He watched as Grayson lifted his shirt and began pulling it over his head. Was this weird? He asked himself, his eyes darting away quickly. Grayson was only trying to get dry. What was Hunter doing down here anyway?

"Uh..." Hunter looked at the door. "Do you want me to go get a towel, or...?"

"Hm?"Grayson looked back him over his shoulder, arms still raised. "No, I'm good."

"Oh? Okay." He found himself watching Grayson's reflection in the mirror. More voyeurism. Control yourself. He chided mentally. He was glad this was happening now and not a week before. There was no telling how bad his behavior would be closer to a full moon. But why? the less scrupulous side of his mind asked. If he's going to put on a show, you might as well watch. He kept his eyes on the mirror. Broad shoulders and a nice torso? Definitely his type. Guys like Grayson Lee were the reason he had watched soccer since junior high.

Grayson tossed his sneakers in one dryer, and his socks and shirt in another. He looked down at his soaked jeans.

Do it. Hunter thought, watching Grayson via the mirror again. Wow. The minute I get away from Colton and the pack, I turn into a total creep. Go figure.

"Are you going to throw something in too?"

Hunter blinked at that question. Clothes. Dryer. Of course. "Oh..." Standing half naked with another half-naked guy in an empty basement? "Yeah." Apparently, that was happening.

He lifted his shirt and hoodie over his head. They snagged on his sunglasses, and he was stuck in a wet clothing cocoon. He heard Grayson laugh. "Ah. Great."

"Do you need some help?"

Hunter tugged to no avail. "Ugh...no..I just..."He felt Grayson tugging at his shirt. Perfect. Now they were undressing each other, in a basement, all alone. Would every meeting they had be fraught with strange, sexual tension?

He heard the flapping of a set of flip-flops enter the laundry room, just as Grayson pulled the shirt over his head. A girl with a small cloth hamper of clothing and laundry related supplies regarded them with a sleepy stare. Her eyes snapped open as she assessed the situation. "I can come back--" She said, starting to turn away.

"No, you don't have to do that!" Hunter insisted, perhaps sounding a little too panicked.

The newcomer still seemed reluctant to wash her clothes, but quickly flip-flopped her way over to an empty machine. Hunter tossed his clothes into the dryer and looked back at Grayson, who had adopted his pensive look again. They stood in front of a table in awkward silence.

Hunter crossed his arms over his chest and tried to appear nonchalant. "So...What are you studying?"

Grayson looked down at him, his mind was clearly somewhere else. "Nursing." Was the slow reply. "For now anyway. I'll probably change it next semester. It's not my thing."

"What do you want to do?" Hunter queried and immediately regretted asking. It was a loaded question. Some people went to school for years before discovering what they truly wanted to pursue.

"Sports medicine." He looked at the ceiling. "I don't want to be a nurse or a doctor really, but I do want to do something that helps people. I want something hands-on. If my Mom has her way, I'll probably still end up as an M.D. but I don't want to be in school forever... Maybe I'll be a medical assistant..."

Hunter gave him an incredulous look. Nice, tall, and he wants to help people. Also, partially naked. What kind of dream is this?

Grayson stared down at him. Not sure how to react, Hunter clung to the topic at hand. "Uh...How about physical therapy? The physical therapist I know seems happy I guess. He's definitely helping people. I don't know how I could have made it through highschool without him."

Grayson frowned. "Did you see him often?"

"Yeah. Like twice a week. At first, it was really painful. I have..." He paused to choose his words carefully. "An issue with bone and muscle structure. There was a point where I was stuck in a wheelchair and I didn't think I would walk again. Whenever I did try to walk, I got muscle spasms and migraines. My nerves were getting pressed down as well, so I'd get these shooting pains at random. It was either lay still or be in constant pain."

"How did you deal with it?" Grayson asked.

"Not well." Hunter watched the laundry tumble. "I gave up a lot. There were days that I was so doped up on pain meds that I couldn't feel anything at all. I hated that feeling. So I stopped taking them. I stopped trying to walk. But my therapist didn't stop trying. He tried to make things as easy as possible for me. It took awhile, almost three years, but now I can walk much better. I still need to use crutches a week or so each month, and the pain comes and goes, but things are way better than before."

"Good." Grayson looked genuinely relieved. "I can't imagine what that was like." His gaze fell on the old checkerboard tiles that covered the floor. "But I'm sure it was really hard."

Hunter's shoulders slumped. "I guess. I'm sorry. Things got really serious out of nowhere."

"I'm glad." Grayson smiled. "I don't think we would have been able to talk like this anywhere else. I haven't been able to have a real conversation like this since I got here."

"Oh." Hunter tried smiling back, hoping he didn't look creepy. "I'm glad it was with me then."

"Me too." Grayson's voice lowered.

Damn, He could feel goosebumps on his neck. His heart thudded in his chest.T he extra bass in Grayson's voice left him reeling.

Grayson stepped forward. "The clothes are done." He handed Hunter his shirt and hoodie. Hunter put his clothes on slowly, feeling like a jerk for eyeing Grayson like a piece of meat earlier. He tugged his head through his shirt.

Grayson slipped his sneakers back on. "Toasty."

Hunter was glad to be fully clothed once again. His jeans were still a bit damp, but they would be easily dried.

"What about you?" Grayson asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "What do you really want to do?"

"I want to teach. I didn't have the best grades, just a little above average, but when I was younger I liked going to school. It was the one place I was treated like everyone else. I think I'd like to teach History, or maybe English."

"You should be an English teacher." Grayson decided. "Just to balance out Lugosi's existence."

Hunter laughed. "I'd have to be a saint."

Dressed and drier than before they headed back up to the main hall. Hunter walked with him past the vacant welcome desk.

Grayson let out a defeated sigh. "Back to Marconi then."

"What?" From what Hunter had heard, Marconi was a townhouse originally used as living quarters for Redwood's faculty. Currently, it was used as another dormitory, but with larger rooms. It was also on the outskirts of the campus, nowhere near Hunter's place of residence, the Howard dorm.

"I thought you said your place was close."

Grayson shrugged. "I lied." He pushed one of the glass double doors open.

Hunter leaned against the frame. "If you wanted to talk, you could've said so."

"I suppose." Grayson stepped out onto the pavement. He looked back at Hunter. "But then again, I didn't come here with pure intentions."

Hunter's mouth dropped open. By the time he remembered how to talk, Grayson was already walking off.

Days 9 and 10: Waning Crescent and New Moon

Day 9. Tuesday, Waning Crescent

Hours later, long after the day had ended and the sun had risen again, Hunter was still contemplating what Grayson had said. He stirred his off-brand cereal with a spoon, courtesy of the cafeteria and watched the puffed pieces of grain float around in his milk. He didn't go in with pure intentions. What did that mean? Their previous meeting contained weird flirting courtesy of his lupine side, but had it not been mutual? Hunter looked at his warped reflection in his spoon. Short guys with fangs who wore sunglasses indoors and hobbled around on crutches were rarely thought of as 'hot'. Perhaps Grayson had been being nice. That made more sense, but it didn't explain his less than pure intentions.

A familiar set of scents wafted through his nostrils--soda, breakfast meats, the wild scent of a wolf.

"Havin' fun with your food?"

Hunter looked up from his mushy cereal to see Malcolm Dupereon with a plate of mostly breakfast meats. He tried not to drool. "I'm having a blast. How've you been?"

"Doin' good, doin' good." He sat down across from Hunter. "Been talkin' to Serena Song."

Hunter vaguely remembered her from the previous week--short like him, long straight black hair, pale complexion. Like Malcolm, the waning moon didn't seem to affect her at all. "Oh yeah? Talking, huh?" He wasn't sure if something was being implied there.

"Yeah." Malcolm proceeded to stuff his face.

Hunter still wasn't sure what they were actually talking about. His reasoning and deduction skills were still tied up with Grayson's impure intentions. Here he was at a time when the moon was reduced to the tiniest sliver, struggling to think straight.

"She seems kind of...cold." Was the best he could come up with

Malcolm smiled at that. "Yeah, but I like it."

"Oh." Hunter looked to the side. "Great?" He didn't know how to respond to that.

Malcolm laughed. "It takes some time to get used to I guess, but once you get to know her the whole act makes more sense."

"You know her well?" Hunter was skeptical. The semester had only begun two weeks ago.

"We actually met before school started on one of the tours. I sniffed her out, you know that feeling."

"Yeah." Hunter understood. Their kind seemed to give off a scent, easily distinguished from normal people. It was second nature to seek each other out in a crowd. "Was she the only one?"

Malcolm shrugged. "Not sure. I thought there was another person around, but I didn't sniff anybody about. Garou said we aren't the only ones on campus, so it musta been one of 'em."

"I haven't met any of them yet, but I do sense them from time to time."

"I wonder how the normies would react." A lazy grin spread across Malcolm's face. "Knowin' there're a bunch of monsters on campus."

"Massive panic, no question." Hunter swallowed more soggy cereal. "But hey, let's keep the ruse going, shall we? I'd like to avoid being tranq'd or shot."

"Lord, yes. This kid I know went wild a few moons ago, broke into a studio lot in Atlanta. They don't play that mess. They shot him, thinking he was a wild animal. Cops found him whining an' bleedin' out. Pack had to bust him out of the hospital the next day, and it wasn't easy. They had him handcuffed to one of the cots in the emergency room. Long story short we had to run off with the whole bed. Good thing Brother Michael had that moving van."

"Yeesh. All that because he ran across a lot? That's nuts."

"They're still lookin' for him. Has his own creepypasta on the internet now."

"Cool. Not so cool how he got it. Does he remember anything at all?"

"Nah. His mind goes completely blank during the shift, he isn't in his right mind until the next morning. Mine are kinda the same. I don't really remember much, maybe smells or tastes but that's it. What about you?"

Hunter looked up at the ceiling. There were no answers there, just paint and plaster. "Feelings." It was the simplest response he could come up with. "Usually I'm mad from being tied up, or just upset about not being able to move."

"It's almost like bein' asleep." Malcolm mused before devouring the rest of his food. "Well, I better get going. See you around."

Hunter gave a half-hearted wave as Malcolm left, and looked at the remains of his breakfast.

He thought about what Malcolm said. Shifting was like being asleep. Except the real nightmare didn't occur until he was awake.

Day 10, Wednesday. New Moon

Hunter awoke at midnight to his cellphone's buzzing. He cracked one eye open and rolled over, extending his arm to reach the desk. Gripping hold with the tips of his fingers, he gingerly pulled the device towards him. It fell into his wastebasket. With a small growl, he rose from the bed to retrieve it, admonishing his laziness.

He had two messages.

The first one was from Ashley.

°~* H A P P Y N E W M O O N *~°

Hunter crossed the room and moved the curtain aside. The sky was clear. No moon to be seen. Back home there were probably a few "New Moon" parties going on. The lack of a moon was cause for celebration, a guaranteed last night of freedom but the shift began again. After this night, the moon would come back bit by bit. Emotions would bubble, tempers would flare, lines would be crossed. He walked over to his closet.

A large army green duffel bag sat inside. He pulled it open and surveyed the contents; Bandage wrap. A pair of ankle restraints, cushioned and soft to avoid discomfort, but held together by a belt made of leather and a small snapping lock. Foam wrist restraints. Hand mittens made of cloth and plastic, easy to remove when he was coherent. A straight jacket, not likely to be used unless someone else would be there to help him out. Lastly, there was the human muzzle. It was unused as he never needed it at home, but more or less a gag gift, as it looked like something out of a BDSM catalog.

If he was too loud during the shift, anyone who found him would assume he was in the middle of some weird sexual ritual. He prayed that didn't happen. The last thing he needed was to be caught rolling around, growling and drooling. The authorities would probably cart him away, with onlookers whipping out cellphones, videos going viral, hospital experimentation, news footage--

He shook his head. If he kept thinking like that, he would be up all night. He closed the bag and walked back to the bed. Why was he up again? His gaze went back to his cell phone. Oh, right.

There was another message for him to read. He squeezed the phone, his hand trembling. While no name was displayed on the screen, he knew the number well. The message was short, but enough to send him into a rage. He chucked the phone across the room, startled when it broke the glass and sailed out the window.

Hunter blinked at the broken glass. He heard a thud, followed by an alarm. He grabbed a pair of sweats from a pile of clothes on the floor, got his keys from his desk, and ran down the hall barefoot.

Hunter's room was located in a corner on the second floor of the Howard dormitory, easily mistakable for a closet. To the casual observer, he would have looked as if he popped out of the wall.

He quickly ran down the stairs, down the hall, and outside. Most of the campus was shrouded in darkness, with the occasional lamplit patch, dotting across the area. With the amount of light reduced, Hunter could see without his sunglasses. While a wolf's eyesight was relatively close to that of a human, those of his kind were often sensitive to light.

The lawn was not empty despite the late hour. Hunter could see several people in the grass, a couple here, a woman with a telescope, and a group of five sitting in a circle and chanting.

He recognized one of the chanters as Ashley, the girl with the wolf ears. Tonight she sported a faux tail as well. Looking closer, he noticed each person in the group seemed to be wearing something animal related. There was a woman with cat ears, a man wearing wings made of leather, a person in a bear-shaped onesie, and a teen wearing fox ears and paws.

Hunter shifted his focus back to his phone, hoping the screen would still be lit and easy to spot. Hunter stood at the edge of the lawn. There was shattered glass right outside his window, but the phone was nowhere to be found. He growled, perhaps too loudly. The chanting stopped. Ashley's eyes fell on him and Hunter looked around, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Is that you, Hunter Reeds?" she squinted.

"Oh, uh...y-yeah..."He scratched his head. "Sorry for interrupting your...thing." He honestly had no clue what to call it. Meditation group? Midnight society meeting?

Two members of the circle looked at Ashley for some sort of explanation. "Sorry y'all. This is Hunter, another child of the wolves."

"Hello, wolf child." They said in unison, startling him.

"Uh..hi.." He took a step back. "Don't mind me, just looking for my phone. I kinda threw it out the window and uh...I'll just look or it quietly now."

"Do you want some help?" The winged man asked.

Before Hunter could decline, they were all getting up from the grass.

"Oh, you don't have to do that..."

The others began to search the grass, using their phones as flashlights.

Ashley walked up to him. "Happy New Moon!"

"Happy New Moon..."Hunter repeated. "So, what's going on here? Just hanging out?"

He knelt in the grass and began feeling around for his phone.

Ashley did the same. "It's first monthly meetin' for the Redwood Therian Society."

"Therian?"

"Y'know, people a little closer to their former selves. Same as us with the wolves." "Oh..." Hunter continued to search. "You believe in that old theory then, the one where we descended from wolves?"

"The one where we used to be wolves." Her tone was more serious than he expected.

Hunter said nothing. The urge to disagree was there, but he preferred not to argue over beliefs. He was not the wolf. He was not the snarling, growling thing that had to be locked up to avoid hurting others. He was the person who woke up in pain, the one with spasms, mood swings, seizures, fits of depression and tears.

He looked at the pierced faux fur ears that sat atop Ashley's head. It was clear that she loved the animal side. Perhaps her shifts weren't long and painful. It could be that she waited all month for them to occur. Maybe she lived in an area where she could run free with her pack, howling at the moon and hunting at night. Whatever the case was, he could not share her sentiment.

He looked down at the grass, he would have tried sniffing the phone out, but he didn't want to be caught doing so, and his conversation with Ashley had left him sour.

"Found it!" The person in a bear-shaped onesie held Hunter's phone up with a paw.

"Thanks." Hunter appraised the phone. Large cracks ran across the phone's case. He would have to buy a new one. "Again, I'm sorry for interrupting."

"We always have time to help!" Ashley's enthusiasm seemed genuine and Hunter could see how she became the spokesperson for the group. "Do you want to join us?"

"I'm actually kinda tired." He looked back at the Howard building. "Well, thanks again." With a wave he retreated back to his dorm. Once alone, he looked at the phone again. The other text message he had received was still on the screen.

Miss you

--Colton

Hours later Hunter awoke again. The New Moon was still in effect. There were no aches or pains. He felt blissfully normal.

One quick shower and lumpy oatmeal breakfast later he was in class. The lecture went smoothly as his professor broke down the basics of lesson planning for a young audience. Hunter scribbled notes through the entire class. It seemed that becoming a teacher had more obstacles than he thought. Still, the idea of crafting lessons sounded like fun.

With his classes completed he walked across the lawn towards the Green building. There at the bottom of the hill, he could see a group of students lining up outside.

Among its other amenities, Redwood offered free rides off campus for its students and faculty. A set of vans made multiple stops between the nearest bus depot and the campus. He figured now was as good a time as ever to replace his phone case. The school had yet to comment on his broken window. At the same time, he had yet to figure out how to tell his mother. A jaunt into town to distract him wouldn't hurt.

He took his place in line, one earbud in, mumbling along to verses too quick for him to repeat. His heartbeat quickened suddenly, and his fangs pressed against his lower lip. There was a familiar scent of aftershave, bacon, and--

Something nudged his shoulder. "Hey."

Hunter flinched. He turned around slowly. Standing behind him was the one and only Grayson Lee, the one that didn't have pure intentions.

"H-Hey." Hunter replied with a crooked smile. He glanced up at Grayson through his shades. "Going into town?" Hunter asked. Obviously. He chided himself mentally. Get a grip Hunter. You've got no moon to blame this time.

"Yeah. Gotta pick up some stuff."

The line moved as a van filled with students. Hunter found himself in front of the van doors. The van only had room for one more passenger. It was a tight squeeze but he could do it. The van door was being held open by a sleepy-eyed student. "You coming?"

"I..."

He had an out now, a way to escape this awkward situation. But did he really want to?

"I'm good."

The door closed with a slam. He stepped back from the curb, bumping into Grayson.

"Oh hey. Again."

Another van pulled up. This time Hunter headed to the back row. Maybe he could find something to say to Grayson back there. As Grayson and another girl slid into the back row Hunter's eyes immediately went to the window. This time they were fully clothed. No rain, no tight bookcases. Both times he had been not just Hunter, but a little canine. As much as it annoyed him he couldn't help but wonder, what would the wolf say in this situation? He tried to summon its thoughts.

Round Three.

"So, are you really going into town, or are you following me?" Hunter asked. He regretted it as soon as he said it.

Grayson's eyebrows shot up once more."You caught me." He smiled. "Can't get anything past you, can I?"

With the van now full, they headed off the school grounds. Redwood was a twenty-minute drive away from civilization, and Hunter and Grayson spent that twenty minutes discussing all the issues they had with the school.

"Why can't we get brand name cereal?" Hunter complained. "We have flatscreens and laptops for rent, but I can't have Lucky Charms?"

"Brand name food? Ha. Next you'll want more than two bars of wifi. It takes so long to stream anything that I keep studying just to pass the time."

Hunter laughed. "I don't know, that might actually be a good thing."

Grayson's wore a look of mock concern. "But what if it's on purpose." His gaze went off into the distance. "What if that was their plan all along...Keeping us isolated from the real world with only textbooks and homework for entertainment. Naturally, our grades would go up, and make the school look even better. It's brilliant."

Hunter couldn't help but smile at his theatrics. "That's it. You've cracked it. But be careful, you don't want them to overhear you."

Grayson nodded. "You're right. They might take it out on my tuition." "You sure? I don't' think it can get much higher..."

There was snickering throughout the van. Their ride came to a stop outside a large shopping center. The structure was a large selection of shops connected by an outdoor plaza. The wide array of stores made it a popular hangout for locals, as well as a rest stop for passerby.

Hunter hopped out of the van. The shopping center was bigger than he expected.

"This place is huge."

Grayson stared at a large kiosk. "There's like one of everything here. Ooh, there's a Target." He looked back at Hunter. "You wanna go?"

"Sure."

They walked past a myriad of shops and shoppers. The weather was cool but pleasant. The two walked at a regular pace. With full control of his legs, Hunter was able to walk alongside Grayson. It was a good feeling. On his darker days, Hunter would stay inside to avoid lagging behind his friends with his crutches. They would often look back or walk slowly to keep tempo with him, which only made Hunter feel like a burden.

If Ashley lived for Full Moons, Hunter lived for New Moons. Days he could spend riding his bike or taking long walks. Days he could ride the train or climb the stairs. Days he could hang out with his friends and not worry about getting lost in a crowd.

They stepped into the department store. Hunter flashed his disability card before sitting on a motorized cart.

"I always wanted to ride one of those." Grayson admitted.

"Hop in." Hunter patted the metal cart attached to the front. "I'm sure your butt can fit in here." As he drove forward, Grayson walked alongside him. "Been looking at my butt, huh?"

Hunter felt his face heat up. He rolled his eyes to play it off. "Yeah, whatever."

They trekked deeper into the large store.

"So, What're we here for?" Grayson asked."Or are we here for nothing. That's happened to me a lot in this place. But then--"

"You come out with a bunch of junk you don't need?" Hunter surmised.

"Every. Single. Time." Grayson replied, exasperated. "It's like they brainwash you with that bullseye, I swear."

"Another theory huh?" Hunter looked up at him as he drove the cart. "You're gonna have a lot of people after you if you don't stop."

"It's too late for me." Grayson crossed his arms, stopping to pose. "I have to let the people know Hunter. I have to share these secrets with the world!"

They continued to wander until they eventually made it to the food-related isles. Grayson stopped in front of a row of mini muffins.

"What's wrong?" Hunter stopped the cart. "You look like you just saw your Ex."

"Kinda." Grayson pulled on the strings of his hoodie sweatshirt. "I used to eat this stuff all the time. My parents made me stop."

Hunter gave him a look of skepticism.

Grayson continued. "I mean, in their defense, I was a pretty heavy kid. I didn't see anything wrong with it, but my Grandparents overfed me. A lot."

Hunter looked at the boxes of baked goods. "Well, you're okay now...?"

"I guess." Grayson sighed.

"You don't sound like you're alright."

"I'm not," Grayson admitted. It was a weird thing to suddenly talk about, but he supposed he brought it on himself. "When I was a kid my Dad was always coming home late, and my Mom was in the middle of a campaign. They were pretty stressed out at the time. Which stressed the rest of us out--My grandparents, my sister and me. We all live together. Anyway, whenever things got rough I would eat. When I started packing on the pounds, my parents realized I had a problem."

"So they locked the fridge and made me keep a food journal. Even with that, they would ask me the same questions all the time, 'what did you eat today?', 'What's in your backpack?', 'Where did you go to eat after school?'. It was really annoying. My Grandma used to sneak me stuff, but then they got mad at her. So I stopped eating so much. But even years later, they treat me the same way. My Mother still asks what I'm eating or when I'm exercising. It's like to her I haven't changed at all."

He continued down the aisle.

It definitely wasn't a revelation Hunter had been expecting. He tried to digest it the best he could. Just as his Lycanthropy was hidden in plain sight, so were many other afflictions.

Hunter didn't move. "Grayson."

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to get something?"

They were both quiet for a moment.

Grayson looked at the colorful boxes. His inner turmoil was clear from the look on his face.

"Yeah." There was hesitation in his voice.

"Just one thing." Hunter replied. He wasn't sure what Grayson needed to hear, but he knew he needed to hear something. "It's not like you're going to eat the whole box."

"Right." Grayson still didn't sound confident.

"Or...Not." Hunter eased the cart forward. "You don't have to if you don't want to. No pressure."

Grayson cracked a smile. "You sound like a therapist."

Hunter shrugged, unsure of what to say next.

Grayson gave the boxes another glance. "Not today." He decided. "But I appreciate that you asked."

"Anytime. If you want I'll keep some twinkies stashed away for a special occasion."

Grayson rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks." He continued to walk. "I think I'll settle for some granola for now."

With the mood light again, they continued on until they found an unpopulated area. Several empty carts were strewn about The only noise was the rustle of carts in the distance.

"Did the apocalypse start?" Grayson asked. "Spooky."

Hunter's eyes rested on a row of abandoned carts. "Empty lanes. Abandoned carts. You know what that means..."

Grayson was genuinely confused. "What?"

"Oh you poor child." Hunter shook his head, his voice full of pity. "Let me show you."

Even after the rules has been explained, Grayson was still confused.

"A race? In here? Won't we break something?"

They stood at the ends of two long aisles.

"No, not if you know how to drive in a straight line." Hunter had abandoned his motorized cart for a regular one. "Now. On your mark...Get set...Go!" They both charged down their respective aisles. Divided by rows of pet food, Grayson slowed down a bit. As he reached the end of his aisle he saw Hunter jet by, standing on the back of his cart as it wheeled away---straight into a wall of laundry detergent.

"Hunter!"

"Don't worry kid." A veteran of Target cart racing, Hunter made a sharp turn. "You're dealing with a pro--" Before he could finish his sentence his cart collided with a column. The force caused him to fall forward into the cart. Despite the pain, the absurdity of it all caused him to laugh hysterically.

Grayson appeared at the side of the cart. "Oh my God. I thought you were gonna break your neck. Are you okay?"

Hunter had yet to stop laughing. "I'm-f-fine. Next time I'm filling it with pillows first."

Grayson shook his head. "You're something else, you know that?" He offered Hunter a hand.

"Oh yeah. Definitely something else." As Grayson pulled him out of the cart, Hunter felt like a child. He held on to Grayson's shoulder for leverage and found his face inches away from his. That was enough to get him to stop laughing. "You're really strong." That was the most coherent thing he muster. It was either that or, 'You have really long eyelashes'.

"You have nice eyes."

Hunter blinked. He didn't say that. Grayson did.

"Uh..."

They had come full circle. And as Grayson brought his face closer, Hunter remembered his own not so pure intentions. He closed his eyes.

"Are y'all using this cart?"

Hunter's eyes snapped open.

A bored employee stood in front of Grayson's abandoned cart with a blank expression.

Grayson stared at the newcomer. "No."

Hunter suddenly remembered what brought him off campus in the first place. He sat down in the cart. "Excuse me, which way is electronics?"

"To the right."

As the employee disappeared beyond the endless aisles Hunter stared at the floor.

Did he read that mood right? Would Grayson have kissed him then?

His train of thought was interrupted as Grayson began pushing the cart along. He looked back at Grayson over his sunglasses.

"To electronics then..." Grayson stared ahead, disappointment evident in his voice.

Hunter tucked his knees to his chest. What was he doing here again? How many days had passed since he had first met Grayson Lee? They had only spoken twice before now. Wasn't it a little too soon for Target makeout sessions? Things were moving too fast. Just because he was away from the pack didn't mean he had to act like this...

His stomach churned.

Grayson brought the cart to a stop as they passed the men's clothing section. He said something about grabbing a few things, and Hunter nodded as he watched him appraise several graphic laden t-shirts.

He felt as if he were sobering up from a hangover--not that he had tried drinking since new years--one glass of champagne was apparently enough for him. Maybe this was part of pack detachment--the phenomenon that sometimes occurred when a werewolf left his pack for long periods of time. He was running wild without any Alphas or guardians watching him.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

Was that really the case? Was he running wild? Or was that the pull of the Alphas again? The thought of that being true made him angry. Disobeying an Alpha always lead to confusion, self doubt, and sometimes sickness. And right now, he was certainly disobeying an Alpha's wishes--An Alpha he wanted nothing to do with.

So what if he didn't know much about Grayson Lee. He could fix that.

As Grayson dropped two sweatshirts into the cart, Hunter squinted at him over his sunglasses. "What's Boston like?"

"Wha?" He had caught Grayson by surprise. "That's random." He replied with a smile. "It's okay I guess. Some parts of it are cool like Back Bay or Brighton. Almost everything is a piece of history, you can't go far without being near this tavern or that monument."

"Sounds cool." Hunter looked ahead, catching the eye of a woman pushing a baby in a cart. She gave him a look of disapproval and he ignored it. "I'd like to go. Now that I'm away from home, I feel like I can go anywhere."

"We should go." Grayson's brow furrowed as if he just decided on a future trip, a sight that Hunter enjoyed. "I gotta admit, I don't get out much, but if you want to see Revere's house or Fenway, I'm your guy. Maybe I'll take you on a duck boat ride."

"A duck boat?" Hunter repeated.

"Oh yes, the premier form of Bostonian nautical travel. A metal bus and boat combo decorated with a duck."

That was enough to make Hunter snicker. "Oh my gosh, yes please. I gotta see that."

Once they reached the electronics section, they waded through the numerous tv show sets, movies, and specials. Grayson was especially enamored with the $5 season bundles of a few old british sitcoms and when Hunter admitted he had never heard of them, Grayson demanded he come over to his room to watch.

With a future meetup planned Hunter was a little more relaxed as Grayson continued to push him through the store.

When they finally made it to the self checkout, an employee asked how old Grayson's 'son' was, at which point Hunter proclaimed he was a big boy and asked to be let out of the cart.

With a few unnecessary purchases in tow they headed over to the food court, scarfed down a few slices of pizza, and wandered around the shopping complex. By the time the sun had set they had held another shopping cart race in a different store, were kicked out of the toy store for getting carried away with a lightsaber battle, and wasted thirty bucks at a tiny arcade.

The ride back to Redwood was peppered with plans for the future and reminiscing their earlier exploits. Caught up in their reverie, they were the last ones out of the van once it pulled up on campus. It was already after dark, and the grounds were once again lit by patches of lamplight.

"I can't believe we spent the day running around a strip mall." Grayson said. "My Mom would disown me if she caught me doing any of that."

"Ha. My Mom wouldn't. Who do you think taught me my mad cart drifting skills?" Hunter raised an eyebrow.

Grayson shook his head."I don't think you're done learning."

"Hey, that pillar jumped out of nowhere!"

"Do inanimate objects attack you often?"

"You'd be surprised."

They walked up to the Howard building. Hunter stopped at the front door, not ready for things to end. "Well, that was fun." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. "We probably shouldn't go back to that Toymart though, the manager was so red I thought he was going to explode."

"Gross." Grayson had his conquests for the day slung over his shoulder, his other hand on his hip. "I'd rather not see that." He towered over Hunter, the lamp post behind him casting shadows on his face. There was something about the dark that made his grin all the more charming. And as he leaned in to kiss Hunter on the lips, the werewolf couldn't refute his advance.

It was a short kiss, over before Hunter could get his bearings.

"Today was totally a date by the way." Was the line that brought Hunter back to reality. "I'll text you." Was the one that prompted him to say goodbye.

And as Grayson walked off into the night with Hunter's heart, the smitten werewolf realized he had forgotten about his phone case.

#Lycanthropy and Me #Werewolf fiction #self pib #writeblr #original story #soon to be deleted #available on etsy #wattpad #werewolfweek #Halloween

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