#grandma said to always have a deck of cards on hand because you never know when you're stuck aomewhere and bored

[arandomnomad]

Mom started another collection for me, which is procuring a deck of playing cards from the places she visited instead of a t-shirt. 😂

Which makes me want to store them in an unassuming cabinet for visitors to find.

[twimshi]

PLATONIC REIGEN X READER

In which Reigen and YN make a bet

A snippet of chapter 5 of chilli flakes on AO3. The current chapter takes place in middle school

“No I don't get it, run me over your plan again"

“All...I'm saying h-hah god...is that we should participate in the twin bicycle competition f-for our hah school, I hate the stairs”

Reigen stared at her suspiciously “YN….you are literally out of breath as we speak.”

The school cultural festival was starting soon, everyone was getting ready to make their fair buck for their own booth. They had walked past the school bulletin board while taking out the trash and saw the sign.

Come all students, let's all participate in the once a year school canteen program !! where you show off your class’s hidden talents

You can sell food, open cafes, and many more (with terms and conditions) 

YOU CAN ALSO COMPETE IN OUR ANNUAL WRITING/BAKING/COOKING COMPETITION THAT WILL BE HELD IN OUR SCHOOL’S AUDITORIUM 

 

YN turned a blind eye while Reigen saw the reward.

Students can win prizes such as a 

-10000YEN

-5000YEN

-Second-hand camera

 

He totally wanted one of them, Reigen grabbed one of the posters, ripping it from the school board. It might be vandalism, but nobody was there to see, so it's not technically vandalism.

Reigen then shook YN, who was beside him “YN LOOK!” He shoved the piece of paper in her face “I can't exactly see anything...IF YOU'RE SHOVING IT IN MY FACE” She comically yelled back, snatching the piece of paper “Okay...and?” 

“Is that the only reaction you're gonna give me?” He said he wasn't getting a reaction, so he placed the paper in his hand pointing “Idiot, look at the prize.”

YN rolled her eyes before letting them wonder about the paper “So? Reigen Arataka, we need'th not spend our time on such childish activities” she gripped the paper and started glowing.

The school’s way of competition was super rigged, Komina participated in all three competitions which were not allowed but she did anyway. Every year, Komina (a mean girl) would win just because that's why YN was so hesitant in joining.

"You can do it, but I am not" She makes a serious face.  

“C'mon YN doesn't give me that look, I know you want to participate” She giggled “Was my tsundere look that convincing?” 

“Please, you couldn't even fool a fly” In reality, Reigen was totally not fooled by YN’s acting skills and did not in fact get worried. 

YN and Reigen walked down the halls, skipping club activity to hide in a secluded part of the school where no teachers would walk since it was ‘haunted’ but the two teens lived for the unknown and just went along.

This was a routine for Reigen and YN, skip club, hang out, gossip about the art teacher and so on - they would smuggle PokeMob cards inside the sole of their shoes to get away with bringing what the school likes to call ‘contraband’

“Anyways….Are you serious about this?” YN quired taking a right “Yeah for sure, I was thinking you could participate in the pie-making comp-”

“Since when were you deciding my plans Arataka? We’re not even married yet”

“U’huh okay anyways, you always talked about how your grandma made pies, I thought we could y’know do that” They reached towards a door that was loose enough for them to squeeze their tiny bodies between

YN looks at him thoughtfully before replying “Well, I do…..but it's not that often..” 

“I pay attention... when you ramble” 

“Sap” Cute

“Shut up” He gently shoved YN and got their PokeMob cards ready to play.

YN pondered while shuffling her deck, if she were to participate in this competition she would have to ask her mother for money for the ingredients since she highly doubted the school could prepare jack shit for them.

“Hmm, I’ll think about it” She placed her fully evolved Magikarp down to eliminate Reigen's legendary “Pikachu'' card “You may win with luck my friend but…..never underestimate me at a card game.”

Reigen laid his head on the wall, hitting it in the process “Dangit! I thought I had this one” Every time they would play PokeMob YN had instantatioly won every game she played with Reigen, the game was more on intuition than luck - which normally would work in Reigen's favor, but sadly, YN was a God.

She grabbed a deck of cards, holding it as if she was a news reporter “Incoming news, REIGEN FUCKING SUCKS AND.I.RULE” She shoved all her glory in Reigens face, which to be fair was quite an amusing sight.

RING

 

“That's our queue to leave” They packed their belongings and made their way carefully towards to main school grounds, fortunately all the teachers were zombies t notice the teens make their way out of the closet together “I have made my decision Arataka” she stopped mid-walk that also made Reigen stop in his tracks.

“I’ll be participating in the pie competition~” She was going to do this for many reasons, to make her granny proud and…

“In return, if I do~” 

“Huh, what do-” She shushed him with her finger “Shush dear boy, I mean if I win at least third you will be my wife” Reigen was in disbelief, he shook his head frantically “No no nope” He said, popping the ‘p’. He wasn't mad, just confused? “What do I even get out of this?” He wasn't mad, it was just confusion?

“Simple. If you win, then I’ll be your wife”

Reigen did not just blush, he was absolutely not embarrassed.

He was now shushing her “D-Don't say that type of things” God why was YN so shameless at times like this.

“Psh, c’mon Juliet~ I want to teach you something today, let's go” They walked out of school, Reigen knew YN didn't mean much from what she said, knowing the girl she could accidentally tell a student she had a pole and everyone would think she actually had POLIO which was completely off - but since some of her classmates would mishear her over the recess they thought otherwise and showed up to her table with flowers and goodbye cards. This may or may not have happened last month, they don't talk about it.

A small rustle and giggle could be heard from behind them, Reigen snapped his head left and right to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, there was no one.

The duo set their way towards the local market before heading to their little spot, scanning the foods YN decides not to buy anything as Reigen buys his soft drink. Setting it on the counter he looks at the girl “You not buying anything YN?”

“..Nah, I wanna save it for another day” Reigen shrugged, a little suspicious of her action, he did know how to read people after all.

He grabbed a chocolate bar and placed it on the counter “Hey I'm not buying anything-”

“Uhuh, you say that now but come steal my food, don't worry about it. It's on sale anyways” YN looked slightly guilty but did not reject the offer. 

They both skipped to the garden eating/drinking their snacks to only get stomach cramps on their sides “We should not have skipped-ow” YN clutched her stomach as Reigen and her limped their way to a dry flower patch to sit down

“Soo, what do you have in mind we do today?” YN reached to her pocket pulling out tomato seeds “Well, i thought maybe since I've been here for what 69 years we should-”

“YN that is not possible-”

“Shush boy, as I was saying. I always respected this place, watering the plant and stuff and maybe I want to leave my mark here. Hence, this” She waved the seeds in front of him 

Reigen squinted his eyes “You want to plant a….what is that?” 

YN called him over to the soil patch “Well these my friend, are daisies” Reigen let her continue “I heard that their super low maintenance and look” she pointed at the sidewalk of the entrance “They even grow on concrete”

“Why do you even have seeds in the first place?”

“Well for starters it's just the yellow part of the flower and I walk to school and collect them”

Reigen thinks, then replied shrugging his shoulders “Sounds weird but I guess that's nice, we ought to decorate this place with some of our things anyways”

“Woah daisies are pretty rough huh, the government should use them for war and….stuff” They both thought about bombing Komina’s house at that moment but didn't fancy the thought of cleaning up Komina’s body. Well YN thought that, not Reigen.

YN digs a small hole trying to loosen the soil a little, Reigen placing the seeds in before covering them in soil “I think that ought to do it” She says admiring her handicraft “Now we have to water it every dayyyyy”

“Dude we come here like...almost every day”

“True……” YN leaned on him with her dirty soil-filled hands “Then?”

He just looked away, his face scrunched up “Ugh, I didn't want to say this now but it's about my mom...” YN didn't move, still on him “Oh yes Mrs.Mom, what did she have to say? I hope I get more leftovers, my mom hasn't been cooking much lately”

A sigh left his mouth, it was dry despite him drinking only a minute ago “I don't...don't know if we can hang out after this month a lot…” YN got up “If you want space I totally don't-”

“No! That's not it...It's…..It's about me and you changing…. OH yea I don't wanna miss watching adventure mob, yea adventure mob, we won't be able to record it” It was a lie but he couldn't tell her, not yet - another time, not when their friendship is on the line

YN sighed in relief. She knew he might be hiding something, but maybe he wasn't. She was being a little too paranoid. Slapping Reigen in the back, she laughed “Phew dude, you scared me for a second, getting all serious and stuff”

He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding like a choking cat “H-hehe, totally..” Changing the topic he chirps in “So you're participating in the pie competition?”

“Oh yeah, I am. You're doing the essay one, right?”

The knots in his stomach grew “Yup, I'm a little worried”

“Why? You're on top of the class for your amazing essays, I'm sure you can write an amazing story or something”

The way she worded it seemed so easy. “Yeah but….what if..” 

What if he couldn't do it? What if he just made a fool of himself? What if-

She stroked his hair gently, pulling him out of his thoughts “Hey ‘Taka, if anyone were to win that competition and make me their wife, I'm sure it's you”

The way she so shamelessly said it made Reigen not react, he was going to make her proud.

He leaned into her touch, taking a deep breath while taking her hand in his, shaking in an awkward position with a smile.

“May the best wife win”

[Hope you guys enjoy this!! Tiny reigen and YN bring me so much joy I can't even explain it, and yes platonic is like the best way to go with these cuties]

[graciegoeskrazy]

Journey to the Past

Warnings: Mentions of absent mother, Angst, Fluff, Grammar mistakes as always, LET ME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Parings: Sebastian Stan x Teen!Daughter!Reader

Word count: ~890

Reader age: I imagine 14 but I guess early teens/preteens

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Please reblog and/or like if you liked it! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST!

“30 to 28. Watch out, I'm right behind you.”

“Yeah, whatever”

You had just finished your homework, and your dad just came home from work, and you guys decided to unwind a little by playing some card games and catching up since it's been such a long week.

“You shuffle, and I'll get ice cream.”

“I can't shuffle well, remember?

“I know. That means it's easier because we both get a bunch of wild cards.”

You let out a fake dramatic gasp and gathered all the cards together and started shuffling to the best of your abilities. “How was school today?”

“Hm. It was fine I guess.”

“I'll take fine.”

You thought of how you should bring it up to him. “Uh- I have to do a project in bio. It's about genealogy and stuff, so I need your help with some parts.”

“Cool, I'd be happy to.”

“Can I ask you-”

“How many scoops, one or two?”

“Three.”

“Yes, ma’am”

He sat back down and handed you your bowl. “Dad, can I ask you something?” He took a bite of the ice cream and and gave you a soft smile. “You just did.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful smile as you were shuffling the cards. “I'm kidding. Go ahead.” After a moment you put the newly shuffled deck down and looked your father in the eye. “So…Where do I- Like…come from?” He knew that wasn't what you meant to say, so he poked fun with you. “Well, Y/N, when a man and a woman love each other very mu-”

“No. No. No. I know that that's not what I meant.” You said laughing. “I mean…well…I-”

Your father started to get the tiniest bit worried. “Just say it doll. What's wrong?”

You looked right at him. “Do you remember her?” Bucky gave a confused look. “You mean ‘her’ as in-“

“My mother.”

He let out one of his iconic parental deep sighs. “Yes.”

In all honesty you expected him to say no. Not because he might not have known, but because he never, ever talked about your mother. He would try to dodge the questions you threw at him, and he had never said anything even when you were little, not even a name. You were learning about genealogy in school, and your assignment for your school project was to learn about your heritage and family background, so this time you kind of had a reason why it needed to be answered.

“My project is based on both sides of my family, dad” He rolled his eyes and got up grabbing both his and your bowl of ice cream. “But you only have one side.”

“That's not actually true.”

He turned around and faced you. “Come on, It's time for bed.”

“What? Your gonna end the fun night we're having just cause I asked about her who shall not be named.”

“You can stay up, but I'm going to sleep.”

“Dad, please come sit.”

He ignored you and started walking up the stairs. You stopped him halfway before he could walk any further.

“You can't keep this for me forever.”

“But I can.”

“Grandma doesn't know, so it has to be someone who you didn't really know right? Was it a one night stand?”

“Y/N.” He said sternly, trying to get past you.

“Dad, I have a right to know who my mother is! You have to tell me some day!”

He stopped and looked you in the face. He took your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Did you break him? Was he finally gonna say?

“You’re right. But, that day is not today.”

“So when is it then? Tomorrow?”

“We will talk about this later.”

“Stop! I have been trying for years to figure out who she is and you haven't given me a single clue! Just tell me! I don't care if she's dead or someone I know. I'm old enough to realize that whoever they are doesn't want me or doesn't care about me, and since you're a pretty popular guy I would think they would have reached out to you by now! So please you are the ONLY thing standing in my way of what I have been wanting forever. I Just-”

“Her name is Kathryn.”

“What?”

“Kathryn King. Born in Richmond, Virginia, about 37 years old. She was an actor.  I know she moved to L.A. right after we split, but other than that I have no idea what she does, what she's like, anything. The last time I saw her was in a grocery store when you were three.”

“How long were you  two together?”

“About six months.”

“So, I wasn't planned? I was a mistake?”

You walked up to you and grabbed your shoulders. “No.No. No. You were not a mistake. We were not together for long, but both did love each other. You were born out of love. By some sick twist of fate, she left you with me because she knew she couldn't be a good mother to an incredible, beautiful, and kind little girl.”

You didn’t realize you made your way to the floor and into your dads arms. You looked up and smiled at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

He returned the grin. “I would want anything else.”

[a-room-of-my-own]

Do you believe in reincarnation? Or that people can be connected across countries and sense each other at times, like when they're going through pain or intense emotions? My grandma and my mom were very into spiritism and kinda nature witch stuff, like my grandma spent half her life throwing curses on her neighbours (which weirdly came true), and when I was a kid my mom was always talking about her spirit guide, very into readings with cards, she was also friends with a psychic and they'd do seances and one time after that my mom said she was someone else but right after she was diagnosed with bipolar and commited to a hospital because she was spiraling. She's good now, and has been for years, but she still believes in all that stuff and etc. I've always kinda been a sceptic because to me that was all just a part of my mom's illness, but lately I've been having these intense instincts or feelings I guess, that someone is waiting for me. And dreams, and sometimes in that half awake time in bed I sense them but I know they're far away and also that we've met before and will meet again and sometimes there's like an intense emotional response that I can't explain. I learned how to read tarot as a kid and I do have a deck that was gifted to me when I was 15, but I almost never do readings for myself, I did a couple for friends for fun through the years, people find out you have a deck and they always beg for a reading but then get kinda freaked out when things are accurate, but I digress. I took out my deck a few weeks ago (after not touching it for two years, I think?) because this has been weighing a bit on my mind and was mindlessly shuffling the cards and at the time I was thinking "what is this, who is this person" and a card literally popped out of my hands and it was the Lovers card. So. I know I'm not crazy (it's always been my one big fear, because of my mom), I've been in therapy forever and also had psych evals and everyone is always like remarkable how not crazy you are since you grew up with a "crazy" mom. This is getting so long, I'm sorry, I guess I just want to ask your opinion, as someone who seems to be attuned to this kind of stuff, I guess. I'm not so much freaked out as more like weary and kinda like "oh no, is this thing I spent my life denying actually real or something".

Well first of all, I'm sorry you went through this with your mom. BPD can be a pretty severe condition, and it must have been very hard to see her spiralling.

Now, for you, the important thing is to remain emotionally balanced and happy, but also, firmly grounded into reality. I talk about that here, because I think it makes for funny stories, but it's a infinitesimal part of my life. I also always balance what I see / feel with the conviction that I could also be wrong. I really believe the proper attitude is basically agnosticism : maybe it's real, and I'm ready to accept that it is, maybe not, and I'm also ready to accept that it isn't.

The second important thing is also that if you're into tarot for example or any other form of oracle, always balance out what you see in the cards with the same healthy dose of agnosticism : maybe the cards predict something, maybe it's just a card deck and that's my imagination making the connections.

And now for belief. You believe in soul mates and reincarnation? It's great if it makes you feel good and your life a little bit enchanted. But it will be a problem if it stops you from living your life in the here and now.

Now, since you're still in therapy and probably processing what happened to you with your mother, I think the best thing you can do for your own well-being is to only take what brings positivity into your life, while always keeping yourself grounded in the rational part of life. You can day dream, paint, write stories, there is a million way to bring magic into your life without compromising your balance.

[saltlampsasuke]

Unfortunately, You Are Experiencing Symptoms of Falling in Love: Part 3

Having your long-term boyfriend cheat on you is pretty bad, but you're lucky enough to have a rich, pro-hero best friend who lets you move in with him until you get a new apartment. Except lockdown happens. And you can't look for a new apartment anymore, and you can't go anywhere anymore, and neither can your best friend, and you think you might be falling a little bit in love with him. Or maybe you've been in love with him all along.

The story of how it takes a nationwide lockdown for you and Bakugou Katsuki to finally get together, part 3!

warnings: Coronavirus mentions

wordcount: 2,384

I stayed up til like 3 am to finish this chapter because I wanted the first day to be over so bad :/ so please like it. Also I don’t know why that scene with the old lady happened she just wanted to be written. I kinda want to make her a side character oops

Katsuki’s apartment never failed to impress you. You didn’t remember much about it, having only visited a few times, and he was reluctant to allow even his closest friends to explore his living space with wild abandon. You had to admit, you were excited to get to see his entire living space up close and personal. Kirishima was going to be so jealous, you thought to yourself, even cracking a slight smile. Even the lobby of the apartment building was sleek and professional, befitting the number two hero. And it was secure as well.

“Alright, sit tight. I have to get your dumb face a security login so that you can get in and out without me having to escort you everywhere like some fucking bodyguard,” said Bakugou. You smiled and plopped down on one of the plush lobby chairs, enjoying sinking into the luxurious cushions while Katsuki talked to the lady at the front counter. “I need to add her to my room permissions. Can you make her a card?”

The woman at the counter desk seemed sweet, a fact that was confirmed when you heard Katsuki speak to her without a single harsh word. He had always had a soft spot for grandma type. Her wrinkled face lit up as she glanced down to see you.

“Oh Katsuki, you’ve finally brought over a girlfriend! I’m so happy to see it, I knew you had it in you!” the woman exclaimed. Your eyes widened in surprise, and Katsuki choked in surprise loudly for a few seconds before regaining his voice.

“What? No. No. This is my friend. She’s had some apartment trouble, and she needs a place to stay,” Katsuki explained with the patience he typically reserved for rescue missions. The woman’s smile got even wider.

“Oh, I bet she had some apartment trouble all right. Very well, and how long will she be staying?” You couldn’t see Katsuki’s face, but you could feel him rolling his eyes.

“Indefinitely.” The woman at the counter raised her eyebrows sky-high.

“So you mean to say that you are having this gorgeous young lady move in with you for an indefinite period of time, and she’s not your girlfriend?” You giggled to yourself once more. Clearly, this old woman was the type to give Katsuki a run for his money. Back in high school, he already would have been yelling his head off, and while you knew he was still holding it in, he was mature enough to remain calm. Well, as calm as he could be. Watching him try to hold himself back was highly entertaining.

“Old woman, I am telling you she’s not my girlfriend. End of discussion. Now give her a card.” Katsuki folded his arms across his chest. He meant business, and the woman at the counter seemed to realize that he wasn’t in the mood. While part of you wanted to relax in the comfy chair and watch your friend get teased by an old lady while he tried not to blow up at her, the other part just wanted to lie down and go to bed. It wasn’t quite night yet, just around the time you would want to be eating the dinner you had planned to make for Takumi, but the events of the past few hours had you drained. The woman nodded, still smiling brightly.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I’ll just need some form of identification to put her into our system and the card will be in your mailbox by tomorrow morning. Sound good?” Katsuki nodded, while you handed him your driver’s license. She quickly scanned it into the system and handed it back to you, and you stood up, following Katsuki to the elevator. The doors to the elevator closed, and you saw Katsuki swipe his access card and push the button for the top floor. Odd. You could have sworn he lived somewhere in the middle of the building.

“Sorry about the old woman. She means well,” Katsuki said gruffly. “She’s just too nosy for her own damn good, and she’s always trying to set me up with her friend’s granddaughters. Telling me I need to settle down. Fucking ridiculous.” You had to laugh as well. Katsuki had never been the type for long-term relationships, you had always been the one of your duo to peruse that. Takumi had been your third long-term relationship, and there had been many dates and flirting phases with others beforehand, but you could count on one hand the number of women Katsuki had ever mentioned to you. You knew he had hookups sometimes; never taking the women back to his place. And there had been one girl you had actually met, though she hadn’t lasted either. He hadn’t been too sad, though, claiming she had tried to get with him for his hero status. If there was one thing Katsuki wasn’t, it was superficial. He was honest to a fault, and he didn’t respect anyone who didn’t act the same.

“I think she’s nice,” you replied happily.

“Of course you do. Probably going to end up going over to her apartment for tea every fucking week,” grumbled Katsuki. Your face lit up.

“She’ll invite me for tea?”

“Shut up. I’ll make you tea if you want it so goddamn bad, what do you need her for?” The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival at the top floor. Confused, you turned to Katsuki.

“I didn’t think you lived on the top floor?” Katsuki turned to you, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah yeah, it’s a bit of a recent thing. I moved in about a month ago. The old owner moved out, and I decided to upgrade. Got the whole floor to myself. I was gonna let you take a peek at the new setup, but you’ve been pretty busy.” You frowned, curling slightly inward on yourself. You had been neglecting your relationships for your work lately, and you had been neglecting Katsuki for Takumi as well.

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small voice.

“Doesn’t fucking matter, don’t care. Just follow me.” Katsuki lead you down a short hallway to another locked door, which he swiped to let you in, holding the door open for you. The first door lead to a small room with a coat and shoe rack, where you carefully placed you’re your shoes. Katsuki handed you a pair of house slippers, which fit surprisingly well. You wondered to yourself why he had them when his feet were so much bigger than your, but you were distracted by the opening of the second door that revealed Katsuki’s new penthouse apartment.

The apartment screamed “bachelor pad” dominated by black and grey tones, with the occasional pop of orange. Katsuki’s colors. It had a very modern, open feel to it, with lots of steel fixtures and open space. The living room was wide, with a large couch placed center in front of an even larger tv. Behind it, visible due to the mostly open-floor plan of the apartment, was the kitchen, decked out with the finest culinary tools. You almost drooled when you saw the solid copper pots. Then again, Katsuki had always been a talented and devoted cook, so it didn’t surprise you to see that he had invested heavily in his kitchen. There was even a loft above the kitchen that looked like another, smaller, lounge area. The full-length windows let in the soft light of the sunset. There were a few doors on the sides that likely lead to the rest of the apartment, and you followed Katsuki as he moved to show them to you.

“There’s a private pool on the second floor, nothing too big, I thought it might be nice for a get-together or something. Been thinking about maybe having more people over to the new place, thought it might be nice. There’s also a workout room, I don’t use it too much because the agency’s got more machines and shit, but it’s nice to have one on hand. There’s two bathrooms, but only one with a bath and everything, so we’ll be sharing. Don’t put your crap everywhere. Your room is on the left, mine is on the right.”

Your room was smaller than Katsuki’s, as he had the master with bathroom attached. Sure it wouldn’t be ideal to have to use a shower that you had to walk through his room to get to, but it wouldn’t be an issue. You were both adults, and hopefully you would be moving out to your own place soon enough. Still, you knew you would be comfortable here.

“Is it ok if I go to sleep soon?” you asked Katsuki. His eyes bugged out.

“Are you stupid? You want to go to bed without eating dinner? If you live in my house, you follow my rules, and one of my rules is making sure you fucking eat,” Katsuki barked. You smiled carefully, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I guess it kind of slipped my mind, but I’m not really that hungry,” you replied. Which was true. Now that you had finally started to settle down again, all of the pain of the day was starting to rush back. You had distracted yourself with the move earlier, but now that you had arrived, you didn’t have anything to focus on. True, you should probably eat. But you weren’t really in the mood to move at all right now. You flopped down on the bed, sprawling across it.

“You have to eat. I don’t care what you want. I’ll make something simple, just eggs on rice. You like that boring shit, don’t you? I’ll do you a favor and make it all gross and tasteless just how you like it,” Katsuki declared.

“You’re the one who makes food that Satan himself would be afraid to eat for fear of burning his mouth off. I’m not the weirdo here, Katsuki.” He laughed brightly.

“No, you’re the coward here. Go jump in the shower, princess, get cleaned up. I’ll get dinner ready. Now you were the one choking in surprise, flustered that he had actually taken your flippant comment in the car at face value.

“Princess? Where did that come from?” you asked with confusion.

“Are you seriously going to tell me you want another new nickname? You said it was fine in the car,” Katsuki said, half teasingly, half seriously. You sputtered, trying to come up with words to defend yourself.

“Well, I didn’t think you were serious. Clearly I wasn’t!” you replied, as Katsuki moved out of your new room towards the kitchen.

“Too fucking bad, picky princess. Now seriously, you need a shower. You’re tracking that bastard’s germs all over my house.” What he said wasn’t scientifically true, but you knew you would feel better after having washed any traces of Takumi off of you, metaphorically and physically scrubbing him out of your life.

You padded behind Katsuki as he grabbed a towel out of a small closet and tossed it at you. It was big and soft, and smelled like his detergent. You couldn’t help but wrap it around you a little. Katsuki’s room was predictably clean, like the neat freak he was, and you were saddened to note the absence of anything to poke fun at him for. The master bathroom was large and fancy like the rest of the house, and Katsuki had to show you how to work the shower before he could leave to start dinner. You were about to have him head out so you could clean up when you realized something.

“Katsuki, what am I going to wear after the shower?” You saw his face fall slightly.

“Shit. Let me grab something.” You heard him rustle around in his drawers, and he pulled out a soft shirt, hoodie, shorts, and boxers, handing them to you. Part of you felt a bit weird about borrowing your friend’s underwear, but it couldn’t be helped. If you had packed, you wouldn’t be in this situation, so you really had nothing to complain about. “You can use these. I’ll wash your stuff so you can wear it when we pack up tomorrow. And you can grab whatever hair and body stuff you need as well, just open something new if you need it. I’ll get dinner. Don’t take a fucking century.” With that, he closed the door and left for the kitchen.

Katsuki’s shower was fantastic. Sure, Takumi had convinced you to splurge on a fancier apartment than you were used to, but this was next level. And all of Katsuki’s products were high-quality as well. You almost wanted to steal them for yourself, though that put you at the risk of permanently smelling like him. You almost thought it would be worth it, you thought to yourself as you slathered on moisturizer.

You pulled on Katsuki’s clothes, which were a bit too big, but manageable. Thank goodness for drawstring pants. He had times dinner perfectly, sliding the fried eggs over the rice right as you stepped into the kitchen. Smelling the food, you realized you were hungrier than you thought you had been. You inhaled the food, thanking him profusely. He shook his head, knowing he had been right. After you finished eating, it was closer to nighttime, and you felt the day beginning to crash over you again, this time inspiring the urge to sleep. Katsuki noticed quickly.

“You aren’t going to be any use at all if you’re tired. Get some sleep, princess. We have a big day tomorrow.” You nodded sleepily in agreement, and walked over to what was now “your” room. Katsuki stood in the doorway as you snuggled into the covers, and reached to turn out the light. You spoke quietly.

“Seriously, Katsuki. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this. It’s too much.” The room went dark, and you heard the door start to swing closed.

“Don’t be stupid. You don’t have to pay my back. Don’t even fucking think about it. I won’t let you. And don’t thank me either,” he said quietly, a slight edge to his voice. “I’m doing this because I want to. So shut up and go to bed. You need to be ready for tomorrow.”

[spaceskam]

for @female-overlord-3 ❤️

"There you are!"

Michael couldn't help but stare as Alex's badass demeanor slipped away in favor of smile as he turned to the voice. They all seemed confused as Alex went to the little old lady who he was clearly familiar with, bending down to meet her in a hug. She held onto him tight and exchanged a few words before he started leading her over to the rest of them.

They should’ve known, really, that when Alex said he knew where to go with that note and brought them to a reservation, it was going to be someone he knew. It just hadn’t clicked that it was probably an old lady. Maybe it should’ve been obvious, though.

“Guys, this is Lorna, she was a friend of my grandmother,” Alex introduced. They all gave curt smiles and nods while she took them in. “She’s probably the smartest person ever, so I figured she could help.”

“When you said you were coming, I didn’t know you were bringing everyone,” Lorna said, still smiling at all of them. But her eyes lingered a little too long on Michael and he shifted awkwardly under her gaze. Alex either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Maria, however, tightened her grip on his arm.

“I mean, it’s not everyone,” Alex said.

“Just the necessity and the tag-alongs,” she said. Alex shrugged.

“I mean, I guess.”

“And he’s the necessity, right?” she said, gesturing towards Michael. He blinked hard and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Alex seemed to hold his breath.

“Um,” he breathed, looking away completely, “Can we go inside somewhere and I can show you what we found?”

“Absolutely.”

Lorna gave Alex a knowing smile that drifted to Michael and only changed a little bit to show her disdain. He felt ridiculously awkward and slipped out of Maria’s hold in response. Still, they all followed her and Alex into her house. Michael kept his elbows in unnaturally tight so she wouldn’t touch him.

“It looks the same,” Alex acknowledged, voice a little nostalgic. Michael couldn’t help but smile at that. 

“Was I supposed to change something?” Lorna asked. Alex laughed softly.

“No, it’s just... Oh, you have these?” he said as he walked towards a little side table. Michael watched intently as he picked up a deck of cards. He held them up a little. “My grandma’s tarot cards.”

“Your grandma read tarot cards?” Maria asked. Alex shrugged.

“She did it for fun more than anything, said it kept her in touch with herself and others,” he explained.

“She was always right, too,” Lorna chimed in, “Predicted the man Alex would be by the time he was five.”

Alex huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty standard.”

“Well, that’s not true,” Lorna said, turning to the rest of them, “Only kid I’ve ever seen have the lovers be upright and reversed in the near future. It was always one or the other since he was 14. His grandmother said that meant he was destined for a great love.”

“Yeah, that happened when I read him in high school,” Maria commented softly.

“So, did you ever find your great love?” Isobel asked playfully. Michael, on the other hand, couldn’t find it in him to be playful. Instead, he felt a little sick.

“Of course he did,” Lorna answered, smiling straight at Michael. He felt the need to just fold in on himself. 

“Yeah, anyway, let’s just show you what we came here for,” Alex said, giving a dry laugh as he tried to brush it off. 

“Right, right. Make yourselves comfortable, I’m going to go make tea,” Lorna said.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Max said. She waved him off as if that wasn’t even an option.

“Why don’t you come help me carry it?” Lorna said to Michael, again not leaving much room for argument. He looked to the rest of the group, but Isobel just found it funny and Alex was avoiding all eye contact while Maria and Max looked neutral.

So, he just let himself be hauled off.

Michael didn’t speak, simply waited patiently as he stood in the kitchen and she got started making them tea. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Clearly, she had him pegged and anything he said would most definitely be used against him.

“You know, Maggie, Alex’s grandmother, was far more in touch with the spiritual side of things than I am. I wasn’t lying when I said she was always right. She could read a person with one look and know their whole life story with one conversation,” Lorna said, hands particularly steady as she brought a pot full of water to the stove. Michael kept his eyes on that rather than her. “I think she would’ve liked you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Michael admitted.

“Oh, no, she would’ve. You know how I know? Because despite the fact that I’m not nearly as in tune as she was, I can still see your connection with our Alex from a mile away,” she said easily. His eyes snapped up to her, unsure of what to do or say in this situation. Sure, he knew this was coming from the moment she laid eyes on him--she wasn’t subtle--but now he didn’t really have a choice.

“It’s... nothing, really,” Michael said. But that was a lie. Everyone knew it was a lie.

“That girl that was hanging on your arm,” Lorna said, dipping a few tea bags into the boiling water, “She knows she’s fiddling with someone that doesn’t belong to her.”

“Nah,” Michael said, forcing a soft laugh as he tried to push away the discomfort he was feeling, “Nah, she wouldn’t hurt Alex on purpose.”

“Well, I never said that, you did,” Lorna said, giving him a secret little smile. Michael held his breath, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone might be lingering in the doorway to come to his rescue. “Do you mind me asking what’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Alex loves you, you love him, the universe loves you together so much it showed you to him when he was 14, so what’s wrong?” she wondered, tilting her head inquisitively, “I can’t understand the hesitation.”

“Sometimes... sometimes love isn’t enough.”

“Of course not, but love is enough to make you want to try. And the trying is where the enough comes in,” Lorna said like it was simple. He hated that she made it sound so simple. It made him feel stupid. 

“It’s not like he’s trying either.”

“Oh? Maybe I misunderstood, but he came here for you. You’re the necessity,” she said, “He’s not good at hiding that. But neither are you and maybe that’s why the connection is so visible to even an untrained eye.”

Michael leaned back a little, trying to catch the eye of someone who might save him. The four of them seemed to be in quaint conversation, though, all ignoring him. Of course.

“I don’t know,” he said. Lorna hummed to herself.

“I think you do.”

Michael didn’t respond and she didn’t provoke as she poured out six cups of tea. He helped her carry them back into the living room and pass them out. If Alex’s hands brushed his fingers as he gave the cup to him, well, no one needed to know.

The spent the next two hours talking about that note they found in the wall, gaining information and talking about so much shit and Michael heard approximately none of it. Instead, he was staring at Alex and trying to make sense of things while his skin slowly started to feel too tight.

Was he making a mistake? No, of course not, they’d tried and they’d failed. But this were a little different now, right? They were more honest now, weren’t they? They knew more about each other now than ever before, so maybe he was making a mistake and they should try again. But Alex had already put himself out there the last, what, eight times? It was his turn. But Maria was there. Were they even dating? Even if they weren’t, shouldn’t he say something? No, because he wasn’t going to do anything. Alex was good now. It didn’t matter what she said or what tarot cards said or anything. They just didn’t work. They were over.

But then Alex smile and Michael felt like he was going to die.

“I need fresh air,” Michael blurted unceremoniously, standing up and leaving before anyone could ask questions.

He stood outside the house and tried to remember how to breathe. Maybe there was a connection, maybe he was a necessity, but what did that even mean at the end of the day? What did anything mean? Why was he here? Was this even real? Was this just a simulation? If it was, that was bullshit and rude and didn’t make fucking sense.

“Michael.” Alex’s voice came from somewhere, but Michael felt like he was stuck in his head. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Alex’s hand touched his arm, grounding him easily and it seemed like only more proof of that stupid connection.

“So, what, I’m your fucking soulmate and you just neglected to tell me?” Michael asked. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? No, soulmates aren’t a thing.”

“How many psychics predicted us?” Michael demanded. Alex just stared at him. “How many, Alex?”

“Like, eight, maybe?” he said. Michael just scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s not that big of a deal. Honestly, it’s probably just because you aren’t human and your psychic alien pheromones are a little more potent.”

Michael stared at him for a moment before it slowly dissolved into mutual laughter. They were still touching, still connected. It felt so, so much easier to draw closer than it was to pull apart. So Michael pulled him closer. Or maybe he came closer on his own. It was hard to tell, but he knew they were sharing breath by the end of it.

“But, seriously, are you okay?” Alex asked sweetly. Michael’s smile was sad and he moved his hand up to fix Alex’s collar, giving him something to do with his hands.

“I think, um,” Michael said, that horrible, suffocating feeling crawling back up into his throat, “I think I fucked up.”

“Fucked up what?” Alex asked like he didn’t know. When Michael met his eyes, it was clear he really didn’t. “Tell me, I can help.” A stupid, helpless pout found Michael’s lips as he tried to control himself. But it was hard.

“I didn’t try,” he said, “Or I, I did try, but at the wrong time. Why did I stop trying the second you started? Why do I fucking self sabotage like that?” Alex didn’t say anything, just stayed close for comfort and let Michael know he was listening. “She told me she could still see that we have a connection and that Maria can see it too. Am I going crazy? Is that true? Is Maria, like, deliberately putting herself between us? Am I stupid?”

Alex sighed, resting his forehead on Michael’s. It grounded him more and he closed his eyes, breathing in sync with him as he tried to make sense of things. However, it was hard to make sense of anything. He was drowning in confusion and regret and the woodsy smell of Alex’s cologne.

“Have you considered therapy?” Alex asked instead of answering. It made Michael open his eyes. “Like, talking to a professional to make sense of the chaos?”

“What?”

“You always said there’s so much chaos in your brain and you do things to cope with it,” Alex whispered, looking him right in the eyes like this was everything, “Have you considered that that chaos is what’s standing in the way of you being able to understand or accept things?”

“Are you calling me crazy?” Michael asked. Alex snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m saying it’s okay to ask for help,” he said, “Sometimes bed hopping and pretty faces isn’t the cure.”

“I can’t go to a therapist without risking the alien thing,” Michael said. Alex nodded, his hand traveling up to rest against Michael’s jaw. 

“Why don’t you let me see what I can do about that?” Alex said. Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but Alex just used his thumb to smooth them right back out. 

“She said love isn’t enough, but trying is,” Michael whispered, “Do you think that’s true?”

Alex quirked a little smile. “Yeah.”

Michael breathed in and breathed out slowly, nodding as he took it all in. He understood that connection a little bit better in that moment. He didn’t want to leave that bubble of Alex.

“I think you’re my necessity, not the other way around,” he told him. Alex huffed a small laugh and slowly moved his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Michael melted into his embrace.

“Yeah, probably.”

[kuriboo]

Hugsaku 2021

Day 4 - Family | “I can’t remember my parents’ faces.” | “I’m used to being alone, so it’s fine.”

This is part of a continuous story I’ve been writing for hugsaku. You can find previous parts either in my previous hugsaku posts or on ao3. The general story is: Yusaku ends up in Heartland with no idea how he got there, and Yuma decides to help Yusaku figure out how to get home. I’ll post a link to the ao3 in the notes.

Yuma and Yusaku are very interesting for this case, since their family situations are sort of the opposite of each other. 

⁂

Yusaku kicked a rock lightly as he walked down the path behind Yuma, his hands in his pockets. Over the past few days, Yuma had been giving Yusaku a casual tour of the city while they kept an eye out for Numbers.

“Oh, there’s some litterbots.” Yuma pointed over to their left at a group of robots picking garbage up from the ground. “They’re these robots that go around the city and pick up garbage people have dropped. I’m not really a big fan of them, though. They keep thinking I’m garbage and they’ll pick me up and… It’s gross.”

Yusaku shrugged. “The robots would know better than me.”

“Hey, come on, you're supposed to be on my side!” Yuma protested.

Yusaku looked away, now staring at the litterbots. He could just barely hear them talking as they did their duty. They didn’t look like anything he’d seen in Den City, but something about them reminded him of…

“Are you listening to me? Hey, uh, are you okay?” Yuma looked up at Yusaku’s face with a frown. Then he followed Yusaku’s gaze to the litterbots. “Do you have those where you’re from, too?”

“No.” Yusaku paused for a moment “I’m probably just homesick or something. For some reason, those litterbots remind me of Roboppy.”

“Who’s Roboppy?”

“They’re a little cleaning robot I have. They’re very common around the city I live in. I built my Roboppy myself and edited their programming to give them a bit of a personality.”

“Whoa, that’s really cool! You gotta be really smart to do something like that.” Yuma frowned. “Do you miss Roboppy?”

“...I don’t know.” That was difficult to figure out. “It’s not like I wish they were here, but… Every day, after I came home, Roboppy would greet me. They’d be happy to see me. I’ve been so used to it that I never gave it a second thought until I ended up here and haven’t been able to see them. I think I just...miss that part of my routine.”

“Hmm. I could say hi to you whenever you come home.”

“I only leave the house when I’m with you, so that wouldn’t make any sense.” Yusaku rolled his eyes. “Besides, you’re not Roboppy.”

Yuma opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted. That’s when they spotted the first person with a Number Yusaku had seen since he met Yuma.

Their eyes glowed red, and there was a strange glow around the rest of their body.

“Numbers amplify the darkest desires of their host,” Astral explained quietly to Yusaku while Yuma loudly confronted the other person. “When they possess you, they block out everything else. When you resisted the Number you held, that’s what you overcame. It seems most humans cannot.”

Yusaku looked at Astral with a frown.

He could tell that Number he’d had was powerful when he held it. He’d wanted to keep it, even without knowing if it would work well with his deck or any of his cards at all. But the card seemed like it could’ve been a useful tool for his goals. Why did he want to keep it? How much of it was because he didn’t like to duel, and how much was because he’d already committed to walking into a path of darkness long ago? After all, he’d never set out specifically to be a ‘good guy’. That’s just how it worked out.

Astral looked away from Yusaku. “Well, the only way forward is to win this Number in a duel. You should stay out of this; it’s dangerous to duel a Number without one of your own. They can only be defeated by other Numbers. Yuma and I can take care of this.”

Yusaku had no objections to that. He certainly wasn’t eager to jump into a duel.

“Yeah, we got this, no problem! You can cheer for us!” Yuma ran over to Astral and Yusaku. “Hey, Yusaku, where’s your Duel Gazer?”

“My what?”

Yusaku already knew that this place didn’t have a virtual duel world like he was familiar with. But apparently, duels here made use of augmented reality technology. In order to see what was happening in the duel, you needed to look through some accessory. That set off several red flags in Yusaku’s head.

“I’ll pass,” he told Yuma once the whole thing had been explained to him.

“But you won't be able to see me crush this guy.”

“My ears work perfectly fine,” Yusaku said. Right now, he had no interest in seeing anything using augmented reality. Listening would be good enough.

The duel was difficult to watch. Yusaku envied the way Yuma could have fun dueling no matter what. Really, he did. Yusaku hadn’t been able to experience that since he was much younger than Yuma, and he suspected he wouldn’t be able to for many years to come if he ever would be able to at all. But Yusaku did used to enjoy the game, and he wished he could have fun again now. Watching Yuma have fun wasn’t the difficult part. What made this hard for Yusaku was how unprepared Yuma had come to this duel, knowing he would have to duel again soon and knowing how important it would be to win.

At least Astral knew what he was doing, but ultimately Yuma made all the final decisions between the two of them and Yuma had a tendency to get annoyed by Astral’s suggestions and ignore them. 

Yusaku could barely breathe through the close calls that Yuma barely made it through. Yuma didn’t know a lot of his own cards’ effects. At one point, Yuma tried to play a trap card face-up in his monster zone. Trap monsters still had to follow the rules of traps. (“But it says when you play it to summon it like it’s a monster!” “Yuma, that only takes place after you activate the trap like you would any other trap.”)

In the end, however, Yuma and Astral were able to win the duel and take the Number back. Astral didn’t remember any significant memories from the Number; nothing helpful for Astral nor Yusaku.

Yuma ran to Yusaku after the duel. He didn’t seem fazed by any of the mistakes or close calls from his duel.

“That duel was so much fun!” Yuma yelled. “It was a tough one, but I was feeling the flow, and my dad’s cards came through like they always do!”

“Your dad’s cards?” Yusaku asked.

“Yeah.” Yuma closed his right hand around the key hanging from his neck. “This used to be my dad’s, too.” He stared off into the distance, his voice growing softer and quieter than Yusaku had heard it since they met. “Carrying around this key and using my dad’s deck, it’s like he’s here with me. They remind me of everything he taught me.” He frowned. “My… Both my parents disappeared. I know they’re still out there somewhere, they gotta be, but it’s still hard not having them here, sometimes. Using his cards helps.”

Yuma had been upbeat, stubborn, and cheerful the entire time Yusaku had been in Heartland City. But on this topic, all of that seemed to strip away from Yuma, leaving him melancholy and vulnerable. Deep down, it seemed Yuma stubbornly refused to call anything impossible because hope was the only thing he could do.

Asking about Yuma’s deck had led them into a topic that seemed difficult for Yuma. Yusaku felt bad; he hadn’t meant to hurt him.

It struck Yusaku how similar their situations were...and yet, completely the opposite. Yusaku was the one who went missing, while for Yuma, it was his parents. Yuma never gave up hope his parents were out there. Yusaku wondered if that was how his parents felt back them. Of course, after he was rescued…

Yuma sniffed. “I shouldn’t mope about my own problems to you when you’ve got plenty of your own. Yours are probably so worried about you.”

For a moment, Yusaku forgot how to breathe.It seemed like parents still happened to be a sore spot for him as well. At least when the topic was his own parents. He cleared his throat. He needed to say something. (He didn’t see how his problems could be considered any more important than Yuma’s right now.) “I wouldn’t know.”

“Are your parents missing, too?” Yuma asked.

Yusaku shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t seen them in years.” 10, to be exact. Not that it mattered or anything. “After I was rescued, they just weren’t there. They never came back.” His words got stuck in his throat. Yuma clearly looked up to his father, had found memories and a lot of love for his parents. As for Yusaku… “I can’t even remember my parents’ faces.”

“That’s awful.” Yuma looked devastated by the information. He lightly touched Yusaku’s arm, trying to offer comfort without overdoing it. 

Yusaku didn’t push him away. “I’m used to being alone, so it’s fine.”

“That’s not true!” Yuma insisted. “Just because you’re used to it doesn’t make it okay. I’m used to my parents not being here, but that doesn’t make it okay. I miss them constantly. Kari misses them. My grandma misses them. It’s not good to be alone.” He paused. “If you’re used to being alone, you probably don’t have siblings, do you?”

“Not last I knew, which was a decade ago.” Yusaku hummed in thought. “I think the closest I’ve got is… Kolter’s brother was a victim of that incident, too.” No need to specify any further on Jin’s current state when that was private, and not Yusaku’s story to tell. “Kolter and I have been working together. We met because we both needed to figure out the truth behind what happened. Kolter also sells hot dogs for a living; he won’t let me pay him for hot dogs anymore, and he keeps a close eye on me. He tries to prevent me from overworking myself and tries to make me take care of myself.”

“He’s like an older brother to you, too,” Yuma commented. 

Yusaku didn’t like to think about it. As a rule, he didn’t get close to anyone. Anyone who came close to him could be put in danger, and no one deserved that. He’d tried to push Kolter away several times when they first met, but Kolter was too persistent. He still felt guilty letting Kolter get involved, and the more he thought about his relationship with Kolter, the heavier that guilt felt. He only ever referred to Kolter as his acquaintance to keep anyone to think they were close, to keep him from worrying so much. Kolter was fully aware of any danger and signed up to work with Yusaku anyway, so worrying was pointless.

“I guess family doesn’t have to always be the people related to you by blood.” Yusaku shrugged. He didn’t confirm nor deny Yuma’s comment. “Sometimes you find people that are a better fit.” It wasn’t hard to be a better fit than someone who never found him again, honestly.

Yuma beamed. “Anyone can be family! As long as you have someone, you’re not alone.” He pulled Yusaku into a hug. “I’m glad you have someone. If nobody missed you, if you didn’t have anyone where you came from, I don’t know if I’d want you to go back, but… I’m happy to get you home since you do. You belong in the world you came from, and…and I get the feeling you and that hot dog guy need each other.”

Yusaku lightly wrapped an arm around Yuma. He didn’t know what to say since he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Here, the incident never happened, and Yusaku wasn’t Playmaker. He still wasn’t exactly sure where that left him. But he had less of a reason to keep up a distance from everyone here since relationships wouldn’t put anyone in danger. He found himself relieved that Yuma still had a family even without his parents, and… He found himself relieved that Yuma was here to help him now. That he wasn’t doing this alone. 

In a way, Yuma was starting to almost feel like a younger brother to him.

[crimsonbluemoon]

For the drabble thing: 1,1,19 krii7y?

AU: RoommatesTrope: Friends to loversPrompt: “suck on that.”

Pairing: Kriity

“So I switch my dragon into attack mode, throw this troll looking loser into defense stance, and I end my turn. Suck on that.” John rolled his eyes at his roommate’s jab, trying not to show how little he cared about the move. He honestly didn’t even know the game Smiity was playing in their living room, or why Nogla looked so upset with whatever he had just done. 

“That ain’t fair! Since when do you have two of dem’ trolls in your deck?! This is bullshit!” 

“Since John bought me a new set last week and I got another one.” He was so proud of his weird card collection. John thought that it was the dorkiest thing ever. Nogla turned his irate anger toward John, who ignored it easily while flipping the grilled cheese in the kitchen of their apartment. 

“Why aint ye buying me cards, eh? I thought we were friends!” 

“Who the fuck said we were friends? I’d sell you for a cornchip.” The dry response made Nogla squawk and Smiity fall onto the couch in laughter, which made John smirk. It was always a win if he got Smiity to giggle hard enough to tip over. Giving himself a mental checkpoint, John tossed the final sandwich onto a plate, lifting his eyebrow at the two. “Now if you two dorks are done getting hard-ons for monster fucking, dinner’s done.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Smiity’s feet were quick to dash across the floor, his hip bumping into John when crashing against the counter to get to the food. John had to catch the other’s waist to keep him steady, but Smiity didn’t look concerned over the intimate touch. “I should get you pregnant so you’ll never leave me.” 

“Can’t do that, he ain’t got the right parts.” Nogla’s loss of the joke when snagging his own sandwich to stuff in his face made Smitty glance to John and roll his eyes. John shook his head at the lack of IQ between the two men, not pushing Smiity out of his space. He used his weaker hand to take his own grilled cheese, leaving his arm around his friend’s waist. 

“We could always adopt,” John suggested, and Smiity tilted his head as if the concept was appealing. 

“Okay, but we’re having a girl; I’ll pick out kick ass outfits, and you’d end up doing her hair better than any of the other moms.” 

“Ye two talk like you’re gonna be roommates forever; the semester ends in three months, then what will ye do? Can’t stay in the dorms when ye ain’t going to school. Eventually ye two will have to separate like the red sea or something.” The casual way they spoke about the future never really bothered John until someone else brought up the truth; they had never really talked about what happened next. He glanced away to the window of the kitchen and took another casual bite of his sandwich, hoping the full mouth would give him an excuse to ignore Nogla’s true statement. But he knew his hand clenched over Smiity’s hip, proving how he disliked the idea under his aloof presentation. 

“Hey, fuckface.” Smiity’s nickname for him was endearing in a way only they could manage, and John pushed out a long sigh before turning his attention back to his roommate. Smiity’s eyes took on a moment of serious undertone that was rare for his friend. “Don’t listen to Mr.Potato head-”

“Hey!” 

“We’re going to get our super cool adopted daughter, and put her in our fancy future apartment, and you’re gonna keep making me awesome food while I kick Nogla’s ass every way possible.” 

“Yeah? You think our future husbands are gonna like that?” John asked cynically, knowing he was simply stabbing at his own heart’s darkest fears. Because he didn’t want to think about Smiity moving on with another guy, sharing grilled cheeses and making fun of Nogla over card games that made no sense. 

“If they got a problem with it, we just elope with each other. Nobody’s more important to me than you. Except maybe our future daughter.” Smiity said the words easily before tearing another large bite into his sandwich. To say John was surprised would be like saying Nogla had an slight interest in dogs; a huge understatement. It was like they’d been a part of Smiity’s plan for years. Caught off guard at the thought, John didn’t reply, simply staring at Smiity. The pale face next to him started to get pink. Smiity’s chewing pace increased suddenly before he shoved the rest of the grilled cheese into his mouth and stumbled away from John. “Hurry the fuck up, Nogla. You eat slower than my grandmother, and she’s dead.” 

“How am I supposed to eat when ye say gross stuff like that? And I ain’t talking about the grandma comment!” Yet Nogla didn’t leave the second half of his sandwich behind while he grumbled into the living room. John caught a glimpse of Smiity’s flushed cheeks as he stared down at the cards in front of him, avoiding eye contact. But John could tell Smiity hadn’t meant to let that information slip, which made him grin. 

Maybe the future wasn’t so bad, after all.

[pronouncingitwang]

jonmartin | 3.8K words

When Jon wakes up, the bed is trembling.

“Martin?” he mumbles, turning around. The darkness softens the edges of his vision, so he reaches a hand out. Nothing. But he can hear breathing, sharp but constrained, and the bed jolts slightly. “Martin?”—louder, and this time, fear, familiar and unwelcome, slithers up his throat—“Are you alright?”

Slowly, a shape begins to form on the other side of the bed. Martin lies on his side, facing Jon, both hands over his mouth. His eyes are wide and still, but his chest rises and falls with exertion. He’s kicked off the duvet, and in the half-light sliver coming in through the window, his trembling forearms look exposed and vulnerable. Jon wants to reach out, past Martin’s frayed T-shirt and still-translucent skin to his frantically-beating heart, press his palm gently against its walls, and… do what?

“Sorry for waking you,” Martin gasps into the cupped space between mouth and palm. The words come in a burst, crammed hastily into the space between one breath and another.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m—it’s fine. You caught me at the tail end; just—give me a second…” Martin squeezes his eyes shut, and his breathing begins to slow. Carefully, he removes his hands from his face. His lip is bleeding, like he’s been biting down on it for a long time. “Okay. I’m okay now.”

“You were invisible.”

“Oh. I, uh, didn’t really notice.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing—it was- silly of me, really, you were just turned away, and I- couldn’t see if you were breathing, and obviously you’re alright, but I just. I’ve had a lot of practice watching you not breathe, and I wasn’t particularly… keen on doing it again.”

Oh. What with the running and packing and driving, Jon hasn’t even given thought to—“I’m sorry.”

Martin gives him a half-shrug. “Not your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?”

Jon shifts the duvet toward Martin, who tucks himself back in. “I can… I can leave, take the other bed. If you want.”

“What?”

“If my being here—seeing me asleep, if it’s distressing to you, it only makes sense that I—”

“No, don’t feel like you have to—”

“It’s not a problem, I’ve had far worse—”

“Or—it’s not—don’t—it’s not just that.” Martin sighs. “I’d prefer it if—I… I want you to stay.”

“... Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Jon can’t tell if Martin is blushing or not, and god, does he want to know—wants the lights on, wants the sun up, wants a flashlight and a camera and a microscope so he can see exactly what Martin’s face looks like in this moment, but he also wants to lie here next to Martin in the dark and say, “I’ll stay, then.”

“Thank you,” Martin breathes, and doesn’t turn away, and Jon doesn’t either.

“You can… check my pulse next time. If you’d like.”

“What?”

“When I was—after the Unknowing. If I- recall correctly, my heart wasn’t beating. If you check my heartbeat, and it’s still going, it might be enough to let you know that I’m just asleep?”

“That’s a… pretty good idea, actually,” Martin says, and then, reaching out a hand, “Can I?”

Jon must have nodded, or made some kind of head movement, because Martin’s pressing his fingers, warm and still a little sweaty, to Jon’s neck, and Jon proves Martin’s earlier worries fully rational by forgetting how to breathe.

Martin’s thumb brushes the scar on Jon’s neck. “Daisy?”

Jon wants to nod, but he’s afraid of jostling Martin. “Yeah.”

“And now we’re in her safehouse.”

“And now we’re in her safehouse.”

The calming effect is gradual. Martin keeps his hand steady, and slowly, his shoulders begin to relax.

“Is it helping?”

“Yeah,” Martin says, a little wonderingly, “I think it is.”

A few more minutes pass, the tension draining out of Martin until his eyes start to droop. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

“I do,” Martin murmurs distractedly. “Does it always beat so fast?”

Jon swallows, feeling his carotid press up against Martin’s skin. “I don’t know,” he lies, and thankfully, there are no follow-up questions.

Martin falls asleep with his hand still resting in the dip of Jon’s collarbones. Jon doesn’t sleep for a long time.

-

When Jon wakes up the next morning, Martin’s already awake and dressed.

“How’d you sleep?” Martin asks.

“Good. I actually don’t think I dreamt at all,” Jon realizes. Another reason to be glad he fed Peter Lukas to the Lonely, he supposes. “I hope it lasts.”

Despite the cabin’s square footage, cleaning it takes Martin and him until sundown. By the time they’ve finished, the floor is clean enough for the two of them to set their shoes by the door and walk about in their socks, which they soon do. There’s an unspoken understanding there—if they thought they’d only be here for a few days, a week, if they thought they would need to run soon, they would leave the dust in the corners and forget to sweep under the couch. We are safe, Jon whispers to himself as he watches Martin deposit a beetle outside, and we are staying.

After dinner. Jon tries to teach Martin how to play 24 Challenge.

“It’s the only card game I know,” he says apologetically. “My grandma wanted me to brush up on my mental maths. It’s alright if you don’t want to play—”

“Jonathan Symbiosis—”

“I beg your pardon?” The look on Jon’s face must be especially affronted, because Martin bursts into laughter, loud and unconstrained in a way Jon hasn’t heard in a long time. I did that, he thinks, letting the thought spread, rose-gold, through his veins, and commits the soundbite to memory.

“As I was saying, Jonathan ‘Sims,’ short for Jonathan Symbiosis—I would be honored to learn how to play your weird childhood maths game on this fine night.”

“Okay, well, normally, we’d use a card pack made especially for 24, but we can also draw four cards at a time from a normal deck. The goal is to make 24 by using the value of each card exactly once. For example…”

The rest of the explanation comes out on autopilot, leaving Jon’s higher brain processes to observe Martin, as they’ve been doing all day. Jon’s glad to see that very little of the panic from last night has bled over into the now. Though Martin’s eyes flicker anxiously to the window every time there’s a sound outside, they always return, relieved, to his hands, the cards, and most often of all, to Jon.

“... That’s that,” Jon says, stuffing the example set back into the deck. “Do you have any questions?”

“Just one. What are you waiting for?” Martin says (What? Jon thinks)—and flips four cards over. (Oh. Right.)

Jon learns several things over the next hour, namely that the best way to uncover someone’s torrid rugby past is to challenge them to card-based arithmetic. Martin’s about as embarrassed by Jon’s discovery as Jon is intrigued, if the former’s look of utter mortification after (seemingly involuntarily) crowing, “No pain, no gain!” the first time he accidentally slaps Jon’s hand to get to the cards first is anything to go by.

“Don’t say a word—”

“I’m sorry, Martin. Could you—could you repeat that? It’s just that it was so very pithy and, I’m afraid, too clever for me to fully comprehend the first time—”

“Shut up—”

“No pain, no… what was it? Plane? no, that can’t be it. Grain? Martin, you simply must help me understand—”

“Jonathan Verisimilitude, I swear to God—”

“Do you have, like, a list of these—”

“Obviously. Poet, remember?”

Then, the implications of Martin’s words sink in, and he freezes.

Jon’s chest is tight. “You wrote poetry… about me?”

Martin shrugs, barely meeting Jon’s eyes. “Might’ve done.”

“I don’t think I saw any of that when I was…” accusing you of murder and rifling through your personal belongings.

“Yeah, I uh, kept most of it on my phone. Bit of light reading for Prentiss.” Martin wince-laughs. Martin, who apparently wrote poetry about Jon within weeks of meeting him, during a time when the kindest thing Jon had ever said to him was a noncommittal grunt every time Martin brought him tea. God, no wonder he had said loved, past tense.

“How… exactly were the Sims puns incorporated?”

“Um, well”—Martin somehow manages to flush more—“it’s more that I used the words in place of your name? I thought it’d be appropriately… roundabout.”

“Ah.”

The moment steeps in the air for a second, then two before Jon takes pity on both of them. He gestures back at the cards. “You got there first; what’s the answer?”

That night, the two of them settle in bed, facing each other again. Martin only hesitates a little before he reaches for Jon’s neck. This time, Jon falls asleep first.

-

When Jon wakes up, he’s curled up in the dead-center of the bed, and—

“Shit—” says Martin, from the ground.

“Martin! What the—Martin, are you hurt?”

“Ow—no,” Martin says, wincing, and Jon helps him up to a seat on the edge of the bed. “Just took a bit of a tumble. There should barely be any bruising, I think.”

Jon moves to sit down next to him. “Nightmare?”

“No, no, you just—”

“Dropkicked you into the floor?”

“No”—Martin laughs—“you just sort of… rolled toward me? And I moved back to give you space and then… you know.”

“Christ, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault; this isn’t the biggest bed”—Jon opens his mouth—“And that’s not a cue for you to offer to move again. Unless you really want to.”

“I don’t,” Jon answers, a touch too quickly. “But you should know you’re allowed to move me if I ever get too comfortable.”

“I didn’t want to manhandle you in your sleep, Jon, you’re welcome to as much of the bed as you like—”

“I’m welcome to exactly half. Less, really, if we’re going off of relative sizes. I don’t mind if you push me, really; I’ve never faulted Georgie for her shove-Jon-in-self-defense maneuvers.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. Here, practice run”—Jon flops back onto the bed—“Look, I’m rudely encroaching on your space. What do you do?”

Martin laughs—“Alright, alright”—and stands.

Suddenly, there are sturdy arms under Jon, and then, both he and the duvet are being lifted in the air (with very little difficulty, Jon notes). Martin sets him down ever so gently on the left side of the bed.

“Happy?” Martin asks.

Jon is glad his face is pressed into his pillow, glad that the duvet covers the fact that his hands are shaking a little, glad that his throat is too tight for an I love you I’m in love with you and I love you to squeeze through.

“Yes,” Jon says, and is surprised by how raw the syllable sounds.

The bed dips as Martin settles next to Jon. “Then so am I.”

-

Jon gets up early to make breakfast. He hadn’t set an alarm for fear of waking Martin; somehow his body Knows exactly when to wake, but he’ll worry about that later. He leaves a note on Martin’s pillow in case waking up alone is too disconcerting and heads to the kitchen, tying up his hair as he goes.

The village shop was fairly limited on supplies, and Martin could only carry so much (though, considering last night, that “so much” is... quite a lot) back over when the village is a twenty-minutes’ walk away. Thus, Jon’s options are limited. He settles for poori, even though he needs to use a water bottle as a makeshift rolling pin and even though they’ll have to eat it plain. Jon spends several minutes debating how much oil they can spare for the deep-frying, then decides that he can just fill the pot and pour it all back into the bottle later.

In between mixing and rolling out the dough, he lets the kettle boil and scrambles some eggs. Jon is relieved that he can remember how thick his grandmother used to make each poori before it was ready to fry and how Martin takes his tea—plain; he’d said something last year about how he’s sure his ancestors would throw a collective fit if he ever deigned to disgrace their country’s invention with milk or sugar. When Jon drops the first circle of dough in the oil and it begins to rise to the surface, he breathes a sigh of relief. Then it’s about ladling more hot oil on top of the poori and trying very hard to not get burned and taking it out, and doing it all again six more times. He samples one. It’s not as fluffy as he would have liked, but it’s good enough for him and almost good enough for Martin.

Jon contemplates the spread before him. It still looks incomplete, so he washes off the water bottle and sets it to work as a juicer, too. It takes three oranges and all of Jon’s hand strength to make enough liquid to fill a mug, and Jon eats the leftover citrus pulp so as not to be wasteful. Then, he sits and waits.

Martin emerges from the stairs barefoot and muss-haired, and Jon has to look away before his mind can start waxing poetic about how the sunlight caressing Martin’s cheek makes it look like Martin is the one who’s glowing.

“Thanks for the note,” Martin says, crossing the room in two strides, “and I promise, I’m okay, but can I still…”

Jon nods, and tips his head up for the now almost familiar ceremony having his pulse checked. This close, and in the light, Jon can see Martin’s pupils, just barely distinct from the dark brown of his eyes.

“I made breakfast,” Jon says.

“Oh,” Martin says, seemingly noticing the food for the first time. “Oh. Jon. Thank you.”

Martin has no right to sound so grateful for something that’s taken Jon less than half an hour to do, and Jon tells him such.

“You made me tea,” Martin replies, in a tone that brooks no argument, and Jon feels all his half-formulated replies die on his tongue.

Martin approaches the poori first. Jon watches anxiously as Martin lifts the first piece to his mouth and chews.

“Jonathan Symphony…”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been living off of nothing but sandwiches and microwavable macaroni cheese for the last year when you can cook like this?”

Jon can’t help the pleased shiver that goes down his spine at the words, but he tries not to let it show. “You forgot Pot Noodles. And statements.”

"Point still stands, Jonny Pessimism."

Jon barely reacts to the name this time, which he considers an achievement. “It’s just fried bread.”

“Very good fried bread.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I’m sure you know I’m not the most dedicated to ‘self-care’”—Martin snorts—“I suppose I just don’t cook much when it’s just me. There doesn’t seem to be any reason to.”

“Well then. Good thing I’m here now,” Martin says around another bite of poori.

Yes. Yes, it is.

-

Jon wakes up Hungry.

Somewhere in his mind, he can register that it’s still early stages, and nowhere near unbearable—just some dizziness, something he wouldn’t even notice on an average day at the Archives—but after spending a few Seeing-less days hoping that Lukas had been enough to last him a few weeks, the realization still strikes him cold.

Since Jon is obviously not going to leave the cabin to snack on some poor villager, he tucks the duvet more securely around himself and tries to fall asleep again. But dread begins to pool in his stomach, and no matter how he shifts his position, the restlessness refuses to relinquish its hold on him. And if it’s already downright uncomfortable right now, how many days before it becomes unbearable? At what point will he need to lock the cabin door to keep himself inside? When will he no longer trust himself to leave the bedroom? Even getting up and pacing might be too much of a risk in time. Basira’s sending him some statements once the Archives are less police-monitored, she promised. He just has to hold out until then. He has to. He has to. He—

“Jon? Jon, can you hear me?” Martin’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance, but Jon consciousness grasps for the source. Then, there’s two fingers pressed to his neck, and Jon grasps at those too. “Jon, please—” and the room and the bed and the man Jon loves come rushing back.

“Martin,” he whispers.

“Jon, you were making little noises—are you okay?”

“Martin. I thought we’d have longer. The Eye—it’s back.” His voice cracks on the second sentence, and Martin swears under his breath.

“Never mind that—How bad is it?”

“It’s—it’s not, really. Or—I just felt a little dizzy, I think most of- that was panic.”

“And now?”

“I’m back now. You—you brought me back.”

“Still dizzy, though?”

Jon nods.

“How can I help?”

“I don’t know, it’s never—”

“Or, easier question—what’s helped in the past?”

“Sleep, sometimes, but I can’t—” Jon breaks off into a sob.

“It’s okay,” Martin whispers, “It’s okay, Jon. Stay with me. What’s helped you sleep in the past?”

“I, uh, had a weighted blanket, it’s probably still in Document Storage—”

“Right, I remember—”

“I felt—solid, under it. And a little trapped, but in a good way. Less likely to go out and Compel people, at least.”

“I don’t think Daisy has a weighted blanket here, but we could try to imitate the feeling? What if—I could- kind of lay�� on top of you, or—”

Jon shakes his head.

“That’s fair, I’m probably a bit heavier than your average—”  

“No, no, no, that isn’t the reason; I just don’t want to… take advantage.”

Martin scrunches up his brow. “How do you mean?”

“Well, just—the experience might… elicit different emotions from the two of us, and that would be unfair to you.”

“Right,” Martin says, then frowns. “No, hang on. Not ‘right.’ How does asking me to cuddle you count as you, what, ‘taking advantage’? Are you saying you’re somehow… manipulating my feelings for you in order to get me to—”

“Sorry, what?”

“—if anything, wouldn’t I be the one ‘taking advantage’ by offering, not that that was my inten—”

“—Your feelings? What do you mean, your feelings?”

“My… romantic feelings toward you?”

Jon blinks. Are auditory hallucinations a rare side effect of panic attacks? Or maybe it’s an Avatar thing; did Helen ever mention—?

“Jon… you’re staring.”

“In the Lonely. You said ‘loved.’”

“You’re right. I did.” Martin is, for some reason, smiling. “But I wasn’t fully myself there, surely you know that. What about the past few days?”

“I mean—you’re an affectionate person, and there’s no one else here—”

Martin cups Jon’s face in both his hands, and now, he’s laughing too—“Jonathan… Simpleton—”

“Martin,” Jon says, confused and heart-racingly hopeful. He thinks it may be the only thing he can say right now.

“Please, call up Basira, or Melanie, or Georgie, and ask them if they’d call me affectionate.”

“But—”

“It’s just you, Jon. Of course I love you. Of course I’m in love with you.”

“But… why? I was awful to you, and then I was gone—”

“—and then you changed, and then you came back to me.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

“It can, though. I’ve chosen to make it that easy.”

Christ, I love you, Jon thinks, and then, oh, God, I haven’t said it back yet. “This might be- clear, already, but Martin, I love you too, so much, and I’m sorry that I didn’t always show it, or realize it—”

“Hey,” Martin says, smoothing his hand over Jon’s hair. “It’s okay. We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yes. This—this is real.”

“It is.” Then—“Can I kiss you?” Martin asks.

Jon’s thought about kissing Martin before, but those imagined kisses had always been hurried and frantic and for larger, more selfish purposes—convincing Martin to stop working for Lukas; making a last-minute, time-efficient declaration of feelings before the Unknowing unmakes them both; trying to prove that there’s still some humanity left in him and hey, the logic of the universe is so twisted already that he may as well give it the old Frog Prince try. This moment—warm, close, deliberate; no danger present except for Jon himself—feels far more right than any of these. And yet—“Maybe not now?”

“Yeah, of course,” Martin says, in a voice that harbors no resentment and asks for no explanations. Jon explains anyway.

“I’d still like to, in the future, but I think I’m still a little… raw from all of tonight’s—revelations, and I- sometimes find skin contact challenging in even the best of situations.”

“Do you want me to let go of your face?”

“No, what you’re doing right now is… it’s not too much. Feels nice.”

“And what about the weighted blanket offer, now that you know you aren’t”—Martin pitches his voice lower in a frankly horrendous Jon-imitation—“‘taking advantage’?”

Jon laughs. “That would be nice, too.”

Martin hmms, then presses closer and swings his legs over Jon’s.

“Would taking a statement from me help?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know if it counts, but I was there when the Flesh attacked, and I met Simon Fairchild.”

“You met Simon F—”

“Jon, Jon, it’s okay, he didn’t hurt me. The point is, you can Compel me about him, see if it does anything for you.”

“I’d rather lay off the Seeing until it’s really necessary. But I appreciate the offer.”

Martin pulls Jon in a little closer. “Anytime.”

-

addendum:

Jon wakes up tucked into the space between Martin’s neck and shoulder.

“‘Morning,” he mumbles into Martin’s skin, and feels Martin smile against his hair.

“Good morning to you, too. Do you still feel Hungry?”

Jon takes stock of his headache, then shrugs. “Yes, but I believe I’m more used to the dizziness now.”

“Well, last night’s offer is still on the table, if you’ve changed your mind.”

“O-oh. Of course,” Jon says, and kisses him. Martin makes a small mmph! that Jon finds extremely gratifying, and for a few seconds, he just lingers there, feeling the warm, dry press of Martin’s mouth against his.

When Jon pulls back, Martin has gone pleasantly pink. “I—ah—meant the Fairchild statement, actually, but I did appreciate that. A lot.”

“Oh,” Jon says, and before he can get too embarrassed, kisses Martin again.

“Someone’s affectionate this morning.”

“Mm.”

“We should probably get out of bed soon.”

“Mm.”

“Maybe write up a plan for if you get worse before Basira can mail the statements over?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Also, if you need any ingredients for cooking, let me know; I might pop down to the shops again tomorrow; I’m due to spend some quality time with the cows soon.”

“Mm.”

“Write me a list later, when you’re a tad more verbal?”

Jon nods. Yes, he’ll do it later, because they have a later to make promises for.

[babybluebanshee]

Things I’ve had to deal with as a city librarian, pt. who even knows anymore

Some of these are because Covid makes everyone’s lives a little harder. Others are just weirdos being weirdos. 

But they’re all equally baffling.

- The library has a mask mandate. You either wear one the entire time you’re in the building, or you leave. It’s that simple. The amount of people who fight us on this is staggering. One lady accused me of trying to force her into a panic attack for whatever reason, and then told me she’d have me fired because she was going to complain to the city coordinator. I didn’t feel like telling her the city coordinator was the one who wrote the policy about masks. She’d figure it out.

- We have a basket of disposable masks by all the doors for people to take if they don’t have one or forget theirs. A guy (already wearing a mask, mind) came in, grabbed all the masks out of one of the baskets, flipped through them like they were a deck of cards, then stuck them back in the basket. Then he locked eyes with me to let me know he’d done it on purpose. We had to throw them all away. 

- We haven’t been putting out the newspapers we’re subscribed to, because we don’t really have a way to effectively and properly sanitize them when patrons are done with them. A guy came in wanting to read them, and when we explained to him why they weren’t out, he turned red in the face, telling us that was unacceptable and he demanded we give him the papers. The director decided to let him have them, and we’d just quarantine them when he was finished, so we asked him which ones he wanted. He wanted all the papers from the day we closed to that current day. We closed back in March. This was happening June. He spent maybe fifteen minutes looking through this huge stack of newspapers, gave them back, and didn’t even fucking thank us.

- We had all eight seasons of Game of Thrones on DVD, and they’ve always been really popular. There was one woman who was absolutely obsessed with them. Every week, she’d check some out, then out another on reserve so it would be ready when she brought the one she had back. When other people would put them on reserve and she had to wait, she’d get angry because she put it on reserve! Why wasn’t it there yet?! And she never watched the seasons in order. She’d start with season two, then skip to season six, then back to one, then to four, and when she’d cycled through them? She’d start over. It was a little unsettling how into it she was.

- A girl, probably about eleven or twelve, came in with what I can only describe as the world’s worst grandma. The old biddy was insanely dismissive of everything the kid showed interest in. The kid spotted some graphic novels and mentioned how much she like reading them, and the grandma scoffed and was like “You mean you like looking at the pictures.” The kid mentioned the Goosebumps series and grandma goes, “Ugh, those books are terrible, pick something else. Something good.” We introduced a book box for teens recently, and when the kid saw the sign for that, she sounded interested. Grandma just went, “That’s stupid. Why don’t you pick your own books? And crafts are for children.” To the girl’s credit, she didn’t seem to let the sour old bitch get to her, but I came very close to just smacking the her several times. 

- The not-like-other-girls girl made another appearance recently. She was wearing a cape. Our IT guy was working on the computer behind the desk that day, and when he saw that, he looked at her, then looked at me like the most confused puppy. Honestly, I don’t even care that she was wearing the cape, because capes are the height of fashion and function and we should bring those bitches back. What bothered me is that it was clearly a cheap polyester thing you get in dollar store Halloween costumes. If you’re gonna be a weird in public, at least shill out for velvet. 

- Speaking of our IT guy, there was a day when our entire computer network went down for the majority of the day. It worked for about fifteen minutes after we opened, then just...stopped. We had to write up check outs by hand, we couldn’t pull reserves, and we couldn’t use the OPAC. None of the patron computers were working either. Our poor IT guy was there from 10:15 to three in the afternoon, trying to fix it, and he STILL couldn’t get them all running. It was absolute mayhem. 

- Ever since we added an Adult Fiction Graphic Novel section, we’ve had more and more people complaining about them. Mostly its parents who don’t actually, like, pay attention to what their children check out and assume comic book = equal child friendly (like the woman who let her ten year old check out Lock and Key and was horrified to realize it contains huge amounts of gore, violence, and sexual content, despite that big AF sticker on the side). An equally big section are the Christian warriors who see the horror and crime comics and are absolutely scandalized on children’s behalf, because what if a child SEES that! Despite the fact they’re in their own section, a section which is nowhere near the kid’s area. One woman found one on the new books shelf objectionable, so she covered it with other stuff. As soon as she left, I went out and rearranged it do it was the only cover you could see. Because I’m a petty bitch.

- The museum saga continues! If you’ll recall from a few posts ago, the museum is a consistent pain in our collective ass for well over a year and a half, taking over half our genealogy room to prove to the city they could run the operation without help and get money to refurbish a historical house.  Well...no one has been in the museum at all since about November of last year. It was supposed to be open every Saturday from 10 to 2, and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of anyone who runs the damn thing. We normally wouldn’t care about it...but people who have temporarily donated stuff to them are starting to show up to reclaim it, and can’t get it out, because the museum staff has the key to the display cases. And we can’t get ahold of any of them. Every time we think we’ve found the right person to talk to about letting people have their stuff back, they say “Oh, no, so-and-so took over that, I have no idea about any of it.” So, they’ve got tons of stuff that does no belong to them, tucked away in locked cases that no one can get into, and everyone is big mad about it. This is pretty much exactly what we expected to happen.

- One of my former coworkers just...stopped showing up to work. She didn’t come in for a shift, and everyone tried contacting her, but she wouldn’t pick up. We tried to check her Facebook (because a few of us were friends with her), but she’d blocked all of us. We didn’t know what happened to her for weeks. Then, one day, another of my coworkers came in and said they’d been to the doctor to get some blood work done, and the former coworker was in the opposite room, drawing a different person’s blood. She pretended like she didn’t know her. None of us ever saw her again after that. She didn’t even return her polos. 

[girlbabyvelez]

Hasta La Muerte // Chapter Seven

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of weapons

A/N: Ahh it’s been so long but hello i hope you enjoy this chapter! Also for the purpose of this fic, Richard is not 22 but 23

The rain pattered against your window pulling your focus from you book to the view outside. The sky was covered in grey clouds that seemed to be full of never-ending rain but it’s what made the large green trees that stood outside our window, lush and beautiful. 

“Y/N pon atención,” Your best friend calls out to you and you avert your eyes from the window to the boy sitting across from the little table in your room. 

“Estoy poniendo atención,” You defend and look back down at your deck. You put down the last two of your cards in a row, successfully winning the game. “¿Ves?” He rolls his eyes and drops the cards onto the pile before sighing. 

“Mijo, tu padre llegará en una hora. ¿Estás listo?” Your mother asks as him as she steps into your room. You both turn faced her and let your shoulders drop. You had been friends with him as long as you could remember, he was the only friend you had besides your two brothers and sister, the one who you could be a kid with. You didn’t want to lose him, you hated that he had to leave.

“Sí, señora,” He politely responds, this causes your mom to smile at his respect before turning to leave. You reach over the little table and grab his hand. 

“Can’t you stay?” You ask and he only shakes his head. You knew the answer but you were hoping for a miracle that would allow him to stay.

“My dad has to leave for his job, and I need to go with my family.”

“But to Colombia? Enzo, we’ll never see each other again.” You remind and you pout. You wish life weren’t like this sometimes.

“You’ll see me again, te lo prometo.” He promises. He reaches his pinky finger out and watches you expectantly. You look at him for a moment before your pinky meet his, you knew that he was someone who kept his promise.

“You better come back to see me.”

And your last hour with him seemed to go by faster than you wanted. You spent most of it playing games and making sure he had your number. You were miserable that he was leaving but you wanted to make the most of your last day with him. When his father stepped into your room, you knew that it was goodbye.

“Hijo, ya es hora.” His father advises and Lorenzo turns over to you and pulls you into a hug. 

“Goodbye Y/N.”

The chair creaked slightly as you spun it around circles, the memory distracting you from the dizziness. You hadn’t thought about that moment in years, forcing it to the back of your brain. You wonder what he had done with his life, you never wanted to look him up and see. But you hoped he was happy out there. You wished the best for him, even though you hadn’t seen him 9 years and it’s weird to think how life took you so far away what either of you expected.

You hear a loud knock on your door, stopping the spinning and focusing on the door. You called for them to come in and some of your co-workers stepped into your office. You could see the invitations to your party in their hands, all of them looking at you excitedly. 

“So our favorite executive is turning 22? I really don’t know how you did it so young.” One of the girls says as she sends you a smile and you send her one back. 

“Hard work and dedication. Any who my boyfriend suggested we have a party so why not?” You respond and grip onto the desk. Your co-worker eyes widens at your mention of a boyfriend, everyone had just assumed that you preferred your work over dating since you never mentioned anything about your life. You were a mystery to all of them, wondering how you got where you are so young and who you were when you weren’t at work. 

“Well we’re excited to meet him. And thank you for the invite.” He tells you and you nod at his words. You needed to make this as believable as you could, you needed to fool everyone that didn’t know about your family. 

“He’s excited to meet my friends from work and he’s lovely. I’m sure you will love him.” You say and look down at the watch that was wrapped around your wrist. “I’ll see you guys on Saturday but I have to head out.”

“Of course. I’ll see you guys on Saturday but for now I have to head out.” 

~

Mariana held up the different colors to you, trying to help you decide which color theme to make your party because it would become the main deciding factor for the rest of the planning. She had only had one day so far to gather all the materials but she was proud that in that short amount of time she had everything ready for you.

“You made a good point, we should leave it black and white with accents of gold,” You answer as you look over your options for a final time.

“Okay so I’ll order the decorations. It’s going to be at your brother’s house so I’ll have my assistants set it up. The only thing we have to decide is your dress,” Mariana informs you and you only nod at her words. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder and smiles warmly at you. 

“Y/N we got you. How about we go get some coffee before we go look at options for your birthday dress?” She suggest and you look at her with relief. You were somewhat dying to be able to go out more than you had. You always had someone stuck to your side whether that be Chris or Yashua or Richard and sometimes even Erick, you hadn’t been given freedom because Santiago’s threat loomed over your heads. 

“Yeah but let me text Yashua so he can come with us. You know safety and all that,” You tell her but she puts a hand over your phone, not letting you text Yashua. You look up at her with confused eyes and she only smiles again. 

“I can protect us. Zabdiel taught me. In plus, I’m armed.” She explains and she lifts the side of her skirt to reveal the gun resting in a holster. 

“Too bad Richard doesn’t trust me to protect myself. Mariana you’re badass and I have no doubt you could take Santiago’s bitches,” You respond and the two of your share a laugh before heading to the cafe. 

You two sat at a small table facing the large windows and entrance for safety reasons. Mariana occasionally sipping her iced coffee while you drank yours. 

“Look I know you’re in a stressful situation but you can always come to me. You have been greenlit and it’s scary but everyone’s going to make sure nothing happens,” Mariana tells you. You look at her, how she seemed to mean every word she said and she was genuine. She knew how dangerous it was to be in your position but she did the best she could to comfort you, which it did. 

“Thank you Mari. It means a lot.” You were grateful that she was reaching out. And even though your mind was a mess of memories and thoughts of the future or your possible death, at least you had another person on your side. 

“Should we go find the dress and head to Richard’s to celebrate your birthday?”

Soon enough you had the dress packed in Mariana’s car and you were surrounded by your 3 brothers, your friends, and the rest of the boys. All of them wrapping you into a hug and wishing you a happy birthday. 

“So hermana, how does it feel to be 22?” Dairan asks as he leads you over to the kitchen. You smile at your youngest brother before ruffling his hair. 

“Like a grandma,” You respond. You take a moment to admire the decorations in the kitchen, simple but your favorite. There was a birthday banner hanging above Richard’s table and streamers in your favorite color decorated the ceilings and your favorite meal sat at the table. 

“Yeah you are that old,” Dairan jokes which causes you to gently smack his arm.

“Wait until you grow old.” You retort and he just shakes you off. You watch as he walks off when you feel an arm snake around your waist. You turn your head to meet Christopher’s warm honey eyes. 

“Hey baby,” He greets and places a kiss against your forehead. You smile appreciatively at his gesture. 

“Hola.”

“Feliz cumpleaños.” He tells you as he pulls you closer to him. It was the first major celebration with the two of you, still unknown what you were but you were set to be engaged within a few days. “I know it’s been a rough few days. So come over tonight.”

~

The red dress with golden lace complimented your figure, hugging all the right curves and showing enough skin yet flowing as it ended at your mid-thigh. Your hands quickly finding the ends of the dress and pulling it lower. You focused on your hair next and how it dropped past your shoulder in its beautiful natural state but a beautiful pin holding back the hairs that would usually frame your face.

You were ready to go downstairs and party with the boys, but your stomach was in knots because Chris would be proposing tonight, in front of everyone you knew. You reminded yourself though that this is what’s best for you and Chris and the mob.

“Ready?” Mariana questions as she stood in the doorway. You turned to face her and you nodded.

“Yeah. Are the boys downstairs already?” You ask and Mariana nods.

“Yeah. People will be arriving soon, should we head down?” Mariana asks. You look back into the mirror before nodding over at her.

“This is the ring?” Richard asks as he held the box in his hand. His eyes inspected over the ring that Chris had picked out for you, the band was an elegant silver and there was a beautiful diamond placed perfectly in the center and was surrounded by smaller diamonds. It was elegant yet simple. 

“Yeah. Do you think she’ll like it?” Chris asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to do his best to make it perfect for you, he knew it was your only chance at getting married and he wasn't going to deny the feelings he was catching for you. 

“She’s going to love it.” Richard tells his friend. He gently closes the box and hands it back to him. “Oh look here she comes.” 

Chris turns on his heels and lets his hands rest in the pocket of his trousers. He flicks his hair out of his face and watches as you come into his line of sight. His jaw almost dropped at the sight. The dress fits you perfectly and your skin was glowing, you were everything beautiful to him. 

Once you reach the last few steps, Chris stepped closer to you and reached his hand out to help you down the last steps. You smile nervously as you accept his hand and slide perfectly into his side. 

“Te ves hermosa,” He whispers and lets his hand rest on your hip. You smile at him and let your eyes roam down his body, he was dressed in a black pair of trousers paired with a white button up that tightened around his arms and chest. 

“You don’t look that bad yourself,” You respond. You share a small smile with each other before the first guest arrives. 

~

“Are you ready?” Yashua questions as he hands you a drink. You turn your attention from Erick over to your brother and nod slowly. 

“Yeah. Let's get this show started.” You whisper and he nods before walking away. Erick takes his place by your side and keep his eyes focused on the two threats in the room: Paulo and Sergio.

“Erick calm down. Our men are surrounding the house, we’re safe.” You whisper, noticing how your coworkers seemed to watch Erick’s posture. He looks down at you, remembering that they were supposed to fit in and he nods. 

“Happy Birthday to you,” Your brothers began to sing and the room immediately joined in singing as they rolled the cake over to you. A bright smile crosses your face as you step towards them, watching as they continued to sing. As their singing began to end, Yashua motioned towards the candles before continued “now make a wish hermama.” You closed your eyes and blew out the candles before opening them back up. 

You knew the time for Chris to propose had come when you heard the room lightly gasp and everyone’s eyes widen. You weren’t sure how exactly he was going to propose but now you had an idea. You turn on your heel and see Chris on one knee with the ring shining brightly in his hand. He smiles warmly at you and your hand flies up to your face.

“Y/N. I don’t know what you wished for. But I promise to make all of your wishes come true for the rest of my life. I have fallen in love with you over the time we had known each other, I have gotten to see every part of you from your sleepy smiles in the morning to the goofy dance moves when you cook. Our relationship has grown stronger over our time together, and I know it will only strengthen. You are the one made for me. So Y/N Camacho...will you marry me?” Chris speaks. You take a moment, remembering that this relationship was all based on a front and a lie, but you needed to say yes right? You let your eyes roam back over to your brothers and remember where your duty lies. 

“Yes!”

~

Taglist:  @babecita-1 @yashuazbabygirl @getmealifepls @cyaneaa @codename-nyx @phanislife124 @cncoh-damn @mamacamacho @smoljoelito @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @ladykxxx08 @la-undercover-latina @lostpil52 @undeadspazzattack @plentyoffandoms @bbyyelyah @babyyynatty @juneninetynine @cnchoe-imagines  @valeriiaaass @moonlitzabdiel @damnthoseyes  @ourkarlanicoleuniverse @niallisworld @multi-fandomgoddess @california-creator @ ego-allie-bap  @deniseasonrisa​  @badboysobsession  @zabdisamor @xxxstormyninixxx​  @pizzaspirits​  @nochillnelly @ericksmamita​ @zabdicl​ @chellybear98​ @sometimesbadalwaysboujie​ @h-bea92​  @you-kinda-smell-like-christmas​ 

[softboywriting]

Mated | Shawn Mendes | Werewolf AU | Anniversary Edition

Summary: You and Shawn find out you’re mates. He’s an alpha werewolf. You’re a human. Together you’ll over come more than you could ever imagine but it’ll take some serious strength and trust to get there.

Word Count: 26k

|Masterlist Link In Bio|

Welcome to Mayfair, population 355. Where the weather is always fairly nice and the people are friendly. Oh and most of the town is made up a werewolves. That’s right, Mayfair is what is known as a pack town. While primarily the residents are werewolves, there are a few humans sprinkled into the mix. Pack towns were becoming gradually more popular across North America although the concept dated back to the late 1800’s in Europe when entire villages would be nothing but werewolves masquerading as humans.

Nowadays werewolves are common place and though there are still people who absolutely detest them, it’s become normal to pass a werewolf on the street everyday. Not that you could really tell the difference between most werewolves and humans. Most often the differences were subtle and overlooked by a person who did not live among them day to day.

Growing up in Mayfair was a little different then growing up in any regular town. Of course you had school, sports, movie nights and everything else kids did throughout their youth. But there were a few things about your childhood that you didn’t know didn’t happen to other kids in other towns.

For example, in your school, which was the main high school for four area pack towns, you never had school on the day of the full moon. Students thirteen years and older were allowed to have three days off of school each month without repercussions, female students were allowed up to seven days off. You attended two different health classes in middle school and your first year of high school. Despite the fact you were a human, and you did not need those seven days a month for your developing werewolf body, you got them. It was only fair that all students were treated equally.

Most of your friends were werewolves and through them and your health classes, since you had to attend the werewolf and basic human growth classes, you learned that as you got older your female friends would go into heat. They would fall seemingly ill and be kept home for several days, thus the seven days allowed by the school board.

Unfortunately for you, most of your friends would hit their heats at the same time and you would be left all alone at school for several days. But it became normal, living it day in and day out. You never thought anything different of your werewolf friends and human friends. Nothing bothered you about them.

Fast forward and it’s your twentieth birthday and you receive a small brown envelope in the mail. At first you thought it was a birthday card from someone out of town, but it smelled heavily of spices and woodsmoke. You open it, curious as to who the sender was since there was not a return address written on the front of the envelope. You pull out the off white paper inside and begin reading;

Your presence has been requested by the village elder, Myra. Upon receiving this letter please report to the elders home on the Oak Grove estate.

Your heart sinks. A summons to the elder’s home was no joke. Though you were a human and not bound by the werewolf laws, she was a well respected woman that helped build the town and it would be rude and cause trouble not to answer her summons.

It’s after six when you decide to go and meet with Myra. You didn’t tell anyone about the letter, in fear that your mother would think something was terribly wrong. Your friends wouldn’t be any help because they would probably just panic on your behalf. You pull your jacket close against you as you walk up the long leaf covered walkway to the old wooden house tucked behind the large mansion nestled in the middle Oak Grove estate, the home of the town’s alpha and his family. It’s mid October and the air was crisp, cool enough to warrant a light jacket, but your shaking didn’t have much to do with the weather.

As you approach you see someone leaning against the railing of the wooden deck in front of the house. It’s Shawn, the alpha’s only son, and Myra’s great grandson. Shawn is pretty hard to miss, what with how he towered over everyone and everything. He was one of those werewolves that you could tell what he was just by being around him. His energy felt different, his eyes were too golden brown to be human but that was because he wasn’t, he was an alpha. There weren’t too many of those in your town. Maybe a handful, two of them being Shawn and his father, Manny.

You and Shawn had gone to school together, you had a few acquaintances in common, shared a few classes. Attended the same parties a few times. Familiar by association. He had never really been on your radar until senior year when he shot up a foot and a half in nine months and filled out, gaining muscle everywhere and going from lanky to fit in no time. He truly was a sight to be seen.

“Hey, Shawn,” you call out, raising a sleeve covered hand in greeting. He’s dressed in jeans and a short sleeve shirt, as if it weren’t a solid 55 degrees out. He waves and gives a little nod but doesn’t say anything until you get closer. “Are you visiting Myra too?”

Shawn rakes a hand through his mess of dark curls, it looks like he just let it dry after getting out of the shower. All mess and no styling. It was pretty attractive if you did say so yourself. “Yeah, uh, she called me and said I needed to come over. Didn’t elaborate.”

You nod, stepping past him and climbing the steps to the porch filled with potted plants, various wind chimes and decorative gourds and pumpkins. The front door is open, screen door pulled back and secured against the house, allowing you to see right into her very small living room.

Shawn follows you, standing close as the two of you step in and you can feel the heat rolling off of him. He greets his great grandmother with a hand on her shoulder as he steps past you and toward the couch on your right. Her whole house smells like cider and wood smoke and you can’t help but notice she has several cups of what actually looks to be cider on the coffee table in front of her.

“Oh I’m so glad you’ve come, dear! Happy birthday, have you had a good day?” Myra asks. Her voice is surprisingly clear and unstrained for a woman who appears to be in her eighties. In fact, for her age she looked amazing. Werewolves were said to age differently than humans, and she was a prime example.

“Yes, I had a great day, thank you. I got your letter and I came as soon as I was available. Is something wrong?” You pick up a cup of the cider as Myra gestures toward it as an offering to get comfortable. You take a seat, sipping the warm beverage and it’s amazing, the best you think you’ve ever had. “Excuse me if I sound rude, but isn’t it a bit out of the ordinary for you to call upon a human?”

Shawn chuckles at that. You’re not sure why, you hadn’t said anything funny. He grabs a cup of the cider and takes a seat beside you, leg pressed against yours. You can feel the heat of his skin radiating through his black jeans. It’s comforting in a way. You hadn’t realized how nervous you were about sitting down with Myra until just then.

“No worries dear. It isn’t often I call upon the humans in our town. I have some very important news for you. For the both of you,” Myra looks over her reading glasses at the two of you. She must have noticed how you shifted uncomfortably at the mention of news.

You’re dreading whatever was coming next. If Shawn was involved you could only assume it meant something has transpired between your families and Myra wanted the two of you to help her sort it out. Your father had once tiffed with Manny, but that was many many years ago. As far as you knew, things were going fine.

Shawn lays his hand on your upper back. It feels hot and it’s just so so big. He rubs up and down gently. It’s a bit strange for him to be so familiar, seeing as the two of you were hardly even friends, just acquaintances at most. But you don’t want him to stop. It felt right. Myra puts her reading glasses aside and sighs softly. “You know that as an elder, I often get visions.”

You nod, hanging on her every word.

“I am often gifted with the visions of our pack’s soulmates, allowing me to match them up to carry on our legacies.”

Shawn’s fingers curl in your shirt and suddenly that comfortable hand had become a fist in your shirt, knuckles resting against your back. “Grandma….what are you getting at?”

Myra smiles a cheeky little smile that only a grandma who knows too much can pull off. “Shawn, it’s not something that can be changed.”

Shawn sits up, legs spreading wide as he leans forward as if he heard her wrong. His leg pushes yours aside, causing you to kind of turn your knees together to the left awkwardly.  He runs his free hand through his hair, expression stressed.

“What is he talking about?” you ask, looking between the two wolves.

Myra opens her mouth to speak but Shawn cuts her off. “We’re mates.”

You blink once, twice, three times. Long slow processing blinks. Time passes in slow motion, the words spinning around in your head. You can’t find the words to process this information. Werewolves weren’t supposed to be mated to humans. At least, that wasn’t common and not with an alpha like Shawn. Not sure what you should say you just blurt out, “But…I have a boyfriend.”

Myra chuckles sadly. Shawn pushes off the couch and gets up without another word. He heads to a room through an archway to your left. The tension in the house could be cut with a knife. “Oh dear,” Myra says softly as something in the back of the house breaks.

_____________________

The glass all over the floor in the hall connecting the kitchen and the back bedrooms of the house is evidence that Shawn had hit the wall with his fist and that was what you and Myra heard in the living room. It was unclear why he had been so angry when you said you had a boyfriend. Did Shawn expect you to just dump Liam, your boyfriend, and be his mate because Myra saw it in a vision or whatever? Because fat chance.

You pick up the broken glass of three picture frames on the floor and place them in a plastic bag Myra handed you when you said you would take care of the mess for her. You look at the photos in the frames. Most of the people you don’t recognize, but there are a few you’ve seen at the cafe on Main St. getting coffee and reading the paper in the morning. They must be about the same age as Myra.

You pick up another photo and it’s of Shawn. He’s smiling, about 13 years old maybe, and he has a rabbit in his hands. You laugh to yourself softly because you know that around that age the werewolf boys were taken on their first hunt. There he was holding the rabbit, still very much alive, and looking so proud. You think he must have caught it and didn’t want to hurt it so he brought it back alive.

“What’re you looking at?” Shawn asks from the end of the hall. He’s got his arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe to a bedroom in a stance that seems like it should be pretty casual but is actually very intimidating.

You put the picture aside, saying nothing, not wanting to talk to him if he was in a mood. You clean up the remains of the frames and keep the pictures in a neat pile to give to Myra when you finished. You feel a little uncomfortable as Shawn continues to watch you clean up his mess. “Wanna help with this? It’s your mess,” you say quietly, more to yourself then to him really.

“I would have cleaned it up.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff. There are little bits of wood from one of the frames and it’s broken all in bits as if it had been stepped on. You try to focus on getting each piece instead of talking to Shawn.

Shawn lets out a hard breath through his nose, “I really was going to. I’m not an asshole y'know?”

You look up, his words igniting something inside you. Something about the way he sassed you back had you seeing red. “Really? Because you could have fooled me.”

“Excuse me?” he says, stepping forward as if it would help him hear you clearly.

You stand up, palm full of glass and wood bits to put in the trash bag. “Oh you heard me. I said you could have fooled me about not being an asshole.” You take a step forward, and you immediately regret it. You know that your actions would read as a challenge to Shawn. It was something you knew better than to do around an alpha. Sometimes you could be so dumb.

Shawn emits a low growl like noise, something low and caught in his throat. It’s a noise you’ve only heard maybe a handful of times and usually because a fight was about to break out in the school halls. “You should leave,” Shawn says, voice harsh and raspy.

“Why? Because you’re angry your mate is a human? Because I have a boyfriend already?!” You are surprised at your own boldness and you find yourself stepping forward once more. Inside you’re screaming, telling yourself to shut your mouth and leave before this boy does something drastic. But you can’t, you stand still, back straight.

“I swear to fucking god,” Shawn starts, walking toward you, steps slow and calculated. His eyes are golden amber and you take a step back. You clench your fist as you stumble a little, and the glass bits you were holding go into your skin. Immediately you wince at the sharpness and open your hand as blood begins to flow from several glass pricks. Shawn grabs your hand and you flinch, afraid he’s going to hurt you. But when you look up at him, the tension is no longer rolling off him in waves and his eyes a more normal golden brown. His hand is burning hot against yours as he holds it carefully.  “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah. I should have dumped it into the bag.” You look at your hand, the blood collecting in your palm, the skin aching.You try to pull it away but he holds it firmly. He picks the debris off and tosses it in the bag hooked on your arm.

Shawn looks at you for a moment, eyes locked with yours and you want to ask what he wants. He touches your bloodied hand with his fingertips gingerly and you grind your teeth because there’s still glass in the cuts. “Do you trust me?” Shawn asks softly.

“I don’t know? Why?” you ask in an annoyed tone. Why the hell was he talking about this right now? There were more pressing issues like your bleeding hand in his. Who gave a fuck about trust right now?

Shawn pulls you into the bathroom nearby and looks closely at the little pieces of glass wedged into your skin. He digs through a small basket on the counter and gets a pair of tweezers. You pull your hand away, holding it against your side. “No, you’re not digging in my hand with those. I’ll take care of it at home!”

“I can fix it. Promise it won’t hurt,” he says grabbing your hand and holding it tight in his own. He picks carefully with the tweezers, getting each piece out. He sets the tweezers aside and puts his palm flat against yours even though it was still bleeding.

“What’re you-”

“Trust me damnit,” he snaps, and you still try to pull your hand away but he keeps it there. It feels hot, and then hotter and hotter and you think it’s burning. It stings and you jerk your hand back hard enough that it slides out from his hold.

“What the hell was that? What’s on your hand? That burned!”

Shawn grabs your hand roughly, jerking you forward a little on accident. He wipes the blood off with a towel on the counter. There’s no more blood beading up to replace it. You look at your hand and it seems as if there isn’t any cuts on it at all. “I fixed it,” Shawn says quietly before releasing your hand.

“Fixed it? What the hell are you-,” you wash your hand off in the sink and there are no marks on your hand. You touch it, rubbing hard over the spots where the glass went in. There was nothing. No blood, no glass, nothing. “What the hell? Shawn what the hell is this?”

Shawn leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “I fixed it,” he repeats.

“So you can just heal people?!” you exclaim, not really meaning to be so loud as you said it. Was that all he was seriously going to say? This was something else. Werewolves transforming was something you’d grown to accept even though you didn’t quite understand how it worked. But magical healing powers was something new.

“I can’t heal ‘people’, I can heal just you.” Shawn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs as if this is such a difficult thing to explain. As if you should just know exactly what the hell he’s talking about.

“I don’t understand. You can magically heal me?!”

Shawn lets out a frustrated growl, “It’s because we’re mates!”

“Oh,” you say quietly as the silence grows between the two of you in the cramped bathroom. Shawn pushes off the counter and leaves you standing there with no further explanation, and even more questions than before.

_____________________

The walk home was quiet. Leaves rustled around you, blowing in the breeze that cut through your thin jacket. It was all starting to hit you. So you turned twenty and now your life has been set on a path with Shawn’s because Myra saw it in a vision. How were you going to explain it to your parents? Your friends? Your boyfriend?

You pull your jacket tighter against you, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm. It wasn’t fair that you didn’t get to choose who you married. It wasn’t fair that you would have to break up with your boyfriend. No. It wasn’t. So fuck it. Nobody can force you to date Shawn, to love him. Nobody can make you break up with your boyfriend. You huff, breath coming out in a little foggy cloud. The temperature is dropping and you still have several blocks to walk until you’re home.

You hear someone jogging toward you. Probably just someone out for some exercise. You step to the left so they can pass you but their steps slow down to a walk. Glancing back, you see Shawn just behind you, casually walking maybe twenty steps back. His hands are in the pocket of his hoodie he must have put on after you left Myra’s house.

“What, Shawn?” you say, still walking and facing forward. You weren’t sure if he’d even heard you. You shiver and put your hands up into your armpits. It feels like it has to be about forty five degrees out.

“Didn’t want you to walk home alone,” Shawn says after a minute or two. He takes a few long strides and catches up with you easily. “It’s cold, and almost dark out.”

You look up at him, his cheeks are a little flushed. “And I’m almost home. Made it all this way by myself.” You roll your eyes and look forward as the street starts to curve toward the turn you’ll need to take to get to your house.

Shawn kicks some black walnuts in their shells that had fallen off nearby trees. He doesn’t say anything else and just keeps walking with you. The two of you get to your house and you see Liam’s car in the driveway. Part of you is excited to see your boyfriend and the other part is terrified of how Shawn will react to seeing him. “I’m sorry about today. I didn’t know that my grandma was going to do this,” Shawn sounds genuinely sorry. It wasn’t his fault though.

“It’s fine. Nothing has to change right? I mean, her vision doesn’t define us,” you say, stopping just short of your driveway. Afraid that if Shawn walked you to your door and Liam was anywhere in sight it might get ugly.

Shawn smiles weakly. It hurts you in a strange way. You can tell it isn’t a good or even genuine smile, more of a placating one, a smile to soften the blow of the words he would say but didn’t mean. “Yeah, right. Doesn’t define us.” There it was. You read him like a book.

“I know this is different for you because you’re actually a werewolf.” You weren’t sure where you wanted to go with this statement. You had no evidence to support this theory.

“Baby! Hey! I’ve been waiting for you!” Liam shouts, waving wildly from your front porch. You turn to look at him and you groan softly. This was just perfect timing.

Shawn puts his hand on your back and grips your jacket. “Shawn…what’re you doing?” you whisper heatedly. He’s tugging you back slightly as Liam starts walking toward the two of you. “Shawn stop, stop!” you hiss thru your teeth. Liam is going to notice and there will be a lot of questions if Shawn didn’t let go of your jacket.

Liam stops in front of you and smiles at Shawn. “Hey man, you her friend?” Liam puts his hand out for Shawn to shake. “Glad you got her home okay.”

Shawn smiles quick, it’s more of a warning flash of teeth than a smile really. Shawn releases your jacket and lets his hand fall to his side. “Yeah, she’s perfect. Glad I didn’t let her walk home alone.”

“I was getting worried, it’s after dinner and I thought we had plans,” Liam looks at you pointedly. You had forgotten amidst the news from Myra. You give a little pleading look and then mumble something about heading inside to get changed if you were going to go out. “I was worried something happened,” Liam says as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

Shawn covers a growl with a cough. Liam didn’t hear it for what it was, but you did.

Liam puts his arm around you and starts walking you away from Shawn with a “Thanks,” and “Have a good night man.” Liam rubs your arm and kisses your temple. “I’m glad he walked you home. I don’t know what I would do if some werewolf attacked you, they can be so unpredictable, like wild animals. They’re just dangerous.”

You feel your stomach knot up. Did he seriously just say that? As if werewolves were out of control animals? They were people too. It wasn’t like when a werewolf shifted forms they became savage blood thirsty killers unless something provoked them. You look back at Shawn and he’s already started walking down the street. You’re glad it doesn’t seem he heard Liam because with the way Shawn was pulling you away as Liam just walked up, you fear what he might do if he heard that comment.

“So, wanna go to dinner? I know it’s a little late but…” Liam walks his fingers up your arm as you walk up the porch steps.

“I’m not really hungry. Can we go out tomorrow maybe? I’m tired from being so social all day with my family and stuff,” you say, lying through your teeth, praying Liam would buy it. He does and agrees, clearly annoyed, but he agrees nonetheless. You watch as Liam’s car pulls out of the driveway and you head to your room in the basement.

You lay awake listening to a playlist someone sent you a couple weeks ago. It’s after midnight and Liam keeps texting you but you’re ignoring him. The comment he made was making you reconsidering what you liked about him. Sure he was nice, he bought you nice gifts for no reason, he even helped you through the passing of your cat a few months before. But the way he said what he did about werewolves, it made you angry. Liam wasn’t from Mayfair, but that wasn’t an excuse for him to think like that.

There’s a knock on the sliding glass door that goes out to the backyard from your bedroom. You think it’s probably Liam. You get up and toss your blanket aside. You pull your makeshift curtain back and open the blinds to see who it was. It’s not Liam. Definitely too tall to be Liam. You grab your bat from the wall to your left before you flip the light on and see it’s Shawn standing there in sweats and a red hoodie with your high school’s logo on it.

“What the fuck…” you unlatch the door, pull the security bar off the track and slide it open. The cold air rushes in and gives you goosebumps all over. Your thin flannel bottoms and old shirt were not meant to withstand this temperature. “Shawn it’s the middle of the night. What could you possibly be doing at my door in your pajamas?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says quietly.

You give him a look of disbelief. Couldn’t sleep so he just rolls up to your house in the middle of the night. Not even your boyfriend did that. Who the hell does that? Crazy people. That’s who. “Go home and take a sleep aid or something.”

“Can I come in?” Shawn asks, voice still strangely quiet. He’s shivering a bit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him cold. He was alway so physically warm, something you noticed long before today.

You look him over and decide not to make him stand out there any longer. You step aside and he comes in so you can lock the door back up. Good lord what were you doing? Inviting him in like this was so out of character for you. You wouldn’t even let Liam stay past ten at night when he was over. “Are you okay? I mean you’re like shivering, and aren’t you usually warm?”

“I’m sorry I just showed up. I went for a run to tire myself out and I ended up here. I saw your light was on and I-” Shawn shakes his head and drops down to sit on your bed where it was on the floor. Your bed frame broke a few weeks back and you hadn’t gotten around to getting a new one yet. He lays back, legs half sticking off the side of the bed. “I’m sorry. I should just leave you alone.”

You sit down next to him and lay back, staring at the old stick on glow in the dark stars on your ceiling. “You can’t though, right? It’s like you’re drawn to me?”

Shawn looks at you, eyes so tired. “…yeah, how did you know?”

“My friend Ashley got married last year. You remember her right? She married Corey, the guy who opened the coffee shop on Main St. She would tell me all about how she couldn’t resist him, how he drove her crazy. She said she went to Myra for advice and was told he was her mate.” You turn your head to look at Shawn. He’s got a little tiny bit of stubble on his jaw and you smile to yourself. His face was so sweet and soft looking, imagining him with a beard or even just five o’clock shadow was humorous. “I understand more than you might think. Not everything, but somethings.”

“Do you think werewolves are dangerous and unpredictable? I heard what Liam said today and I just...it’s been bothering me.”

“No, Shawn. I grew up here, surrounded by werewolves my whole life. I know they aren’t dangerous. Liam is an asshole who doesn’t understand anything outside his closed mind.”

Shawn turns his head to look at you, eyes falling closed. He keeps opening them halfway and then closing them again, he isn’t long for consciousness. “Then why stay with him?”

You shrug. It’s a very good question actually. Why do you stay with him? This was not the first time he made off hand comments about things that he shouldn’t. Did you stay because it meant you weren’t alone? Was it because he was the first cute guy to give you attention? There were a lot more reasons to walk away then there were to stay.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. That was rude of me.”

“No, it’s fine. You have a point, but I just can’t answer that question yet.”

Shawn makes an attempt to sit up but falls back. He is clearly exhausted and you can’t imagine how long he must have been running before he worked up the courage to stop by your house. Wolves had incredible stamina so you’re thinking he must have been out there for well over an hour. “I should go home,” he mumbles, more of slurs, as he tries to keep his eyes open.

You reach over and push a curl out of his face. They’ve gone wild as they’ve dried from the rain. “I don’t know if you could make it home,” you giggle as his eyes fall closed completely. He rolls onto his side and tugs you close, nosing into your neck. Oh god. You’re not sure what to do. He’s got you in a vice grip and he is now fast asleep. You decide to just close your eyes and enjoy his warmth that’s radiating through you. You can’t believe you’ve just given into him like this. Not even Liam was allowed to stay the night and here Shawn was, barely an acquaintance, sharing your bed. Maybe there was something to this mate deal.

_____________________

It’s just after 4am when you wake up in a cold sweat. Your shirt feels stuck to your skin and you feel a sharp cramping pain in your lower stomach. Oh no, not now. No no no. You sit up, confused by the weight on your body and Shawn’s arm falls on to your lap. Right. He’d fallen asleep and you gave into letting him stay. That makes matters so much worse. You’re sure you have started your period and if you don’t get to the bathroom immediately it was going to be bad. You push Shawn’s arm off and scoot carefully to the edge of the bed. It’s too late. The moment you get your feet on the floor and go to push off, you can feel your uterus betray you.

Shawn stirs, pushing himself up on his forearms. He looks back and forth across the bed before looking over at you. He rolls over off of his stomach and sits up. “Where’d you go?” he asks, voice heavy with sleep.

“I’m fine,” you answer curtly as you slowly inch across the room, praying the blood doesn’t show through your dark flannel pants.

Shawn leans forward and you shuffle quicker across the floor, trying not to look like you’re in pain. “Are you okay?” he asks and you can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips in response. So much for hiding it.

In a second he’s off the bed, hand on your back, worry in his eyes. You wish nothing more than for him not to be touching you right now. It was embarrassing enough to have started your period while he was in your bed, let alone the spot that was probably growing on the back of your pants. “Why are you so quiet? Is it your stomach? Are you hurt?” He tries to put his hand on your stomach but you push it away.

“I’m fine Shawn. Please go sit down. I just need to go to the bathroom.” You shuffle forward more. Shawn takes a step back, crossing his arms and standing by the side of your bed. A cramp gets the best of you and you hold your stomach for a second, one hand braced on the door frame.

Shawn is at your side in a second, one hand on your back and one on your stomach. “Something is wrong. I should go get your parents.”

You shake your head, letting out a pitiful self deprecating laugh before you say, “No, don’t get my parents. It’s just my period.”

“Your…Oh. Oh!” Shawn steps back and folds his hands under his arms. “Oh my god I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the problem. I’m so sorry,” he keeps babbling sorrys and a flush is high on his cheeks.

“Haven’t you ever been around menstruating girls?” you ask, breathing hard through another cramp.

“Yeah sort of, yeah I guess at school. It was different, I didn’t see them like this!”

“How is this different…y'know what, I don’t care. I just need to get to the bathroom.” You let out a little gasp of pain as a cramp grips your stomach tight. You should have known you would be starting soon. The other day you’d had a few light cramps but you ignored them. Usually you would have put on a preemptive pad just in case of this is exact scenario, but you just didn’t.

Shawn moves close again, putting his hand back on your stomach. He slides his hand under your shirt  and you try to push him off as says, “Please trust me.” You give up, knowing he isn’t going to hurt you or anything. He holds his hand there for a second, skin warm against yours. Then suddenly it gets hot, the heat becoming uncomfortable like when he healed your hand yesterday. You grab his shoulder for support, letting out a soft sob, the cramp coming to a full gripping sensation as the heat from him starts to hurt a little. Shawn pulls his hand away, balling his fist at his side. He swallows thickly as he takes a step back to give you space. It looks as if his arm was hurting but you don’t say anything.

The pain is gone. You stand up straighter and open your door to go to the bathroom across the hall. It takes you just a second to realize you haven’t grabbed any underwear or pants to replace your ruined ones. You can’t just get up and walk in there butt naked, blood running down your leg. But you also don’t want to pull your pants back up and go in there either. You would have to suck it up and ask for help.

“Shawn,” you say softly and after a moment you hear a soft hum in response. “Can you grab me some...some underwear and pants?”

There is no immediate response and you wonder for a moment if he had even heard you. But then Shawn knocks on the door. “Here,” he says opening it just a crack and passing through a pair of underwear and your black fuzzy pajama bottoms.

You thank him quietly but you still feel like you could just die of embarrassment. Not only had you started your period, bled through your pants, told Shawn you were menstruating, and let him do some hocus pocus wolf magic on your stomach. He had gone through your pile of folded clothes on your dresser and grabbed your underwear. He touched your underwear. He looked at them, selected them, brought them to your bathroom door and passed them through with nothing but a simple “Here.”

You fix yourself up and take a few deep breaths in the mirror to calm the knots in your stomach. It was nothing. Menstruation was perfectly normal and nothing to be embarrassed about. Shit happens. Shawn was just helping. He probably didn’t mind, in fact he probably didn’t even think twice about it. Yeah. He was chill. It was fine. Once you slip into your room you notice Shawn is sitting on your bed thumbing through a magazine off your floor. “Make yourself at home why don’t you?” you chuckle as you shove your stained clothes in your laundry hamper behind the door.  

Shawn drops the magazine and stands up. “I promise I didn’t go through your underwear, they were just sitting on top. I figured whatever was fine. I didn’t see anything else I promise I-”

“Shawn.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you smile at him softly. As embarrassing as it was for you, it wasn’t actually that big of a deal. It was just underwear after all. Periods are normal. He didn’t see you naked or something. “I’d like to try and get some more sleep.” You look to the bed and then to the sliding glass door. Part of you wants him to stay, the other wants him to go. You look him over as he stands there waiting for you to make up your mind. It’s hard. He’s so attentive, so sweet to you and you were starting to feel like maybe he felt ‘right’. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to end things with Liam, even if it wasn’t to end up dating Shawn. Liam had never been so concerned for you, not once could you remember him asking if you were okay or even bothering to call you when you were sick or something. Sure, he had provided comfort after your cat died, but even then it seemed like he had felt obligated to do so. Shawn was showing you that there are better options in this world, that you don’t need to settle.

“Will you stay?” you ask and Shawn’s face lights up. He looks like a kid on christmas as you crawl into the bed and hold the blanket back for him. It was undeniable, the chemistry you had with Shawn. He was easy to be with, to talk to. He was comfortable.

Shawn’s hand brushes against your stomach under the blankets, eyes meeting yours only a few inches away on your pillow. “Can I?”

You nod and he lays his hand on you. The touch is more intimate than just friends but far from scandalous and you can’t help but think about Liam. Everything you had with him was falling apart for you as Shawn opened up the door of what a better relationship might be. Was it considered cheating letting someone you felt comfortable with sleep in your bed? You and Shawn were not doing anything outside of a close platonic friendship. But the feelings you were having for Shawn went beyond being his friend, beyond platonic. No, you didn’t want to just be his friend. Your stomach turns over. Was it wrong to want something, someone, better? You lay there a while longer arguing with yourself before finally coming to a conclusion. It wasn’t cheating to you if you were just sleeping with Shawn, because it wasn’t any different than sleeping in the same bed as a friend. You were not romantically involved. But it didn’t matter because you’ve decided it was going to be over for you with Liam. You want better, whether that be Shawn or someone else. After yesterday, with what Liam said about werewolves and after Shawn being so good to you, showing you that a partner should be there and show compassion and concern and not act like it was a daunting obligation. You know you not only want better, but you deserve it.

_____________________

Four days pass and you haven’t heard from Liam since your birthday. You texted him “Sorry fell asleep last night” after Shawn left the morning after your birthday. You texted him again that night, and then again the next morning, asking to meet up with him soon. He never replies and leaves you on read. It’s rude. Annoying. Further showing that you deserve better.

Shawn would stop by almost every day, always knocking on your sliding glass door to see if you were home. He didn’t stay the night again, didn’t even come in usually. He would just stop by and check on you, one day he even brought you a candy bar. Usually his visits lasted no more than a few minutes, with him standing outside the door while you went over the same questions.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, very tired.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you though.”

Shawn would usually nod and mumble that he would see you later on. He didn’t ask about Liam. He didn’t ask to stay the night again. It was just the same couple of questions and then he’d go back home. You wonder if you had pushed the boundaries too far the night of your birthday, or may he thought he had.

You’re watching a movie while taking a break from your homework when your phone starts ringing. You pick it up and look at the name that pops up on the screen. It’s Liam. It seems he’s finally decided to acknowledge your texts. What the hell was his problem? Who blatantly ignored their girlfriend?  It pisses you off. It really did. You had thought about spamming his phone until you got a reply sooner but it just wasn’t worth your time to do so. Four days now you’d been going over in your head every time he’s done this in the past. How he would just go missing for a few days and then suddenly text or call you like you hadn’t been trying to get ahold of him. You always dismissed it because you were just happy to talk to him again, to get to go out, to not be lonely. You had always been a little afraid to ask him why he didn’t call or text earlier because you didn’t want to start a fight. Now you’ve had enough. You didn’t need him or his shit any more. The way that the way Liam left you in the dark wasn’t right, wasn’t how a relationship should work and you were going to tell him.

“Hello?” you answer, putting the phone on speaker and laying it down next to you.

“Hey baby, was just calling to see if you still wanted to get your birthday dinner?”

“My birthday was four days ago. Liam, where have you been?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. It’s the first time you’ve questioned why he didn’t reply and you were already angry from reviewing the past times like this in your head so it’s a little hard to stay calm. “Why didn’t you text me back?”

“I was busy. I’m always really tired after work, you know that baby.”

It’s making you sick how he calls you baby. It used to feel cute and endearing. Now it felt wrong. “For four days you couldn’t just shoot me a text saying anything? You were that tired? Really?”

Liam scoffs, his voice taking an annoyed tone. “What’s your problem? I said I was busy. What is with all these questions?”

“Can we meet up? We need to talk about-” you start to say you need to talk about your future, or lack thereof, with him but you hear a female’s voice in the background and you stop. He keeps saying “Hello�� over and and over but you ignore him, listening to the female voice. “Who’s with you?”

Liam is quiet for a moment. “I’m at work.”

You look at your clock over your desk. It’s after 7pm. He got off work at 5pm. “No you’re not.”

“Excuse me? Yes I am. I had to work late!” Liam sounds defensive and the female voice in the background suddenly stops. You hear an “Oh! Shit sorry!” just as Liam takes a deep breath and says, “Baby, we need to talk about your attitude.”

Your attitude? Did he actually say that? You were not about to let him hang up until you got some answers. Being a shitty boyfriend was one thing but cheating? Lying about where he is? Oh fuck no. “Liam, your boss would never let you work this late. Who are you with?”

“I’m at a friend’s okay? Don’t worry about it. Did you want to get dinner still?”

“No, I don’t want to get dinner with you. I-I don’t even want to see you!” you shout, not caring you’re becoming irate and emotional. You’re not even trying to hide it anymore. “Liam, are you at a girls house!?”

“What is your problem?! Do you think I’m cheating on you?!” Liam is yelling. He’s clearly angry you’ve just caught him in the act and he was vehemently trying to deny it.

“Yes! Yes, I do! You just lied about where you are, you won’t answer your phone for days! Is this what you do every time you ignore me for days? Do you go to your ‘friend’s’ house?!”

“Y’know what, fuck you! I gave you everything and this is how you’re going to repay me? Go fuck yourself, because it’s not like anyone else but me was ever going to. I hated coming to that piece of shit town you live in anyways, wasn’t worth my time. I only kept dating you because I pitied you. ” Liam hangs up the phone and you’re laying there processing what just happened.

Tears start falling, running down your cheeks and wetting the pillow in your lap. You were so angry and so done with him but it still hurt. He just implied he was only dating you for the sex and that you weren’t worth anyone’s time. Like he had been doing you a favor by being with you. You’d spent the last nine months ‘dating’ him and probably the whole time he was fucking another chick? So what, you were his side chick? His main chick? How long had he been cheating on you? How could you have been stupid enough not to realize any of this earlier?

You sob, shaking and struggling to breathe. You wipe your tears away with your sweater as a soft knock comes from your sliding door. You take a deep breath and go over to it and push the blinds aside and see Shawn standing there in a soaking wet hoodie and jeans. It’s pouring rain and water is pooling in the yard behind him. “Not now, Shawn, please go home,” you sniff loudly, yelling through the glass door, reluctant to open it. You didn’t want Shawn to see you like this.

“Please let me in. I heard your phone call,” Shawn tugs the door open and you wish you had put the stopper bar in the bottom. “I got here just as Liam was saying he had to work late. I should have left but I just couldn’t. Are you okay?”

You shake your head. “I hate him,” you whimper before breaking into another round of chest aching sobs. “He was cheating on me. He only wanted to fuck me,” you’re shaking harder, stomach sick, arms wrapped around yourself, “like he was doing me a favor because I’m not good enough for anyone.”

Shawn pulls you against him. His hoodie is soaked but you don’t care. He holds you against him, hand gripping your shirt. “Fuck him,” Shawn says, lips pressed into your hair. “He’s wrong, you’re perfect.”

“How can you say that? We’re barely even friends,” your voice is muffled by his chest.

Shawn moves back just enough so that he can look down at you. You glance down and notice he’s making a wet spot on your carpet. He brings his hand up and wipes your tears off your cheek. “Believe me, you’re perfect.”

“You’re just saying that because you think I’m your mate.”

“I’m saying it because I know you’re my mate. I wish you could feel the same way I feel drawn to you.”

You leans your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I could learn to,” you let out a breathy half laugh, “Maybe I was supposed to break up with Liam. Is that crazy? Maybe this was all supposed to happen so I end up with someone good like you.”

Shawn shakes his head. “Not crazy at all.”

You step back away from him and look him over. You wipe your eyes again and laugh softly at him. “You’re making a mess,” you point at the damp circle he’s standing in.

He looks down and steps back toward the sliding door. “Oh shit, sorry. I can dry it off if you give me a towel.” He squats down to touch it and see if it’s totally soaked through.

“Maybe we should dry you off first,” you say as you grab a towel from your laundry hamper. “eliminate the source of wetness?” Shawn stands up and peels his hoodie off in one fluid motion, hanging it on your computer chair to dry. You drop the towel and stare at him because holy fucking shit. Who actually looked like that? How was he that ripped? He was not real.

Shawn looks down at himself and then up again, giving you a sort of shy smile. He knew you were blatantly checking him out and he was no ashamed. You bend down and grab for the towel three times before getting it and holding it out to him without saying anything. He takes it and starts rubbing his chest dry as he says, “Gonna watch me take my pants off too? I don’t mind, but you might want to sit down judging by your reaction to my chest.”

_____________________

You turn around as Shawn pulls his jeans off and stare at the far wall, looking around aimlessly at your junk when you catch sight of Shawn in the reflection of the mirror on the back of your door. He’s standing there in his boxers that are clinging to everything, yes, everything, and drying his hair with the towel. He looks up and sees you in the mirror and smiles big, letting out a low chuckle.

“Do you have anything I can wear?” Shawn asks as he wraps the towel around his waist.

You turn around and go to your dresser. “I think I have some sweats and a hoodie maybe?”

“Perfect,” he says as you hand him a pair of your older brother’s black hand me down sweats that are too big for you and an oversized Marines hoodie from your brother that you had folded up on top of your dresser. It’s the only things you have that might fit his huge frame considering your brother was almost the same size. You turn around as he puts them on in case he wanted to take his boxers off. “I’m sorry Liam was such an asshole in the end,” Shawn says softly.

“Don’t be. I should have seen the signs earlier.” You don’t turn around as you talk, you just stare at the wall again. “He had been doing this thing where he would ignore me for days on end and then act like nothing happened.”

Shawn walks forward and stands behind you, “He was cheating on you?”

You turn around at the closeness of his voice, jumping a little when you bump into him. “Y-yeah. God I should have thought of it earlier…I’m so stupid.”

He reaches out and tucks some hair behind your ear. “You’re not stupid. You didn’t want to be lonely.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes. Your face starts to do that little involuntary frown that happens right before you cry. “I am stupid.” You shake your head, wanting the tears to go away but they don’t. Your eyes fill up and start to spill over with tears, and you let out a shaky sob.

Shawn steps closer and wraps his arms around you. He holds you tight and pets your hair down with one hand. “Maybe we can go for a walk and clear your mind, it’s stopped raining,” he says and you nod against his chest. “Should we tell your parents you’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell my mom I’m going out for a bit.” You move away from Shawn and immediately miss his warmth. You go through your bedroom door and yell up the basement stairs that you’re leaving for a bit and you’ll be back in a while. Your mom says something about making beef stew for dinner and that she expects you to eat tonight. You agree and head back to your bedroom.

Shawn’s smiling when you open the door. “Beef stew huh?”

You can’t help but smile a little because his smile so radiant and warming. “Yes, beef stew. No, you’re not staying for dinner.”

Shawn groans teasingly and grabs your jacket off of your bed. You take it from him and put it on, zipping it all the way up and pulling the drawstrings on the hood to keep the heat in. “Let’s go.”

The two of you make your way through the woods a little ways from your house. The rain made it chillier than it had been outside. You walk in silence for a while, just enjoying each others company. Shawn bumps his hand against yours where you have it pulled into the sleeve and you glance down to see if it was an accident. He does it again and you smile a little because you can’t believe he was trying to be sly.

“You wanna hold my hand?” you ask and smirk up at him.

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “If I do?”

You contemplate it for a moment. Would you be comfortable holding hands? Would that lead him on? You didn’t want to do anything to do that, you didn’t want him to think you were already feeling the same. Because you weren’t. Well, maybe a little interested. It was very muddled in your head. In the end you decide to take his hand. You slide your hand out of the sleeve and he threads his fingers between yours.

“So, when did you and Liam meet? I don’t recognize him from school?” Shawn asks after a few minutes of walking hand in hand.

“We met nine months ago. He didn’t go to school with us obviously. He approached me at a the Yankee Candle at the Kingsburg mall. Said I was cute, liked my hair, it was curly that day.” You swallow thickly, remembering how Liam hadn’t always been neglectful of your feelings, but quickly remind yourself it was all for sex in the end.

“I like your hair when it’s curly,” Shawn says with a smile. “It’s so wild.”

“Thanks, it’s actually naturally kind of curly. I just don’t like it sometimes, too messy.”

Shawn tugs your hood back and runs his hand through your hair. “Messier the better with curls.”

“Shawn…” you look up at him, surprised at his bold move, and he pulls his hand away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I forget sometimes, I’m more into you than you are into me.”

You smile at him and shake your head, “It’s not that I’m not into you. It just surprised me.”

The woods ahead are thick, darker than where you were. You pull Shawn to the left, down a path toward the area where the woods connected to the Oak Grove estate, Shawn’s home. “So, how does it feel? Like for you?”

Shawn hums, “How’s what feel?”

“Being mated. What does that feel like?”

Shawn flushes a little bit before he clears his throat and says, “Ah, well, it’s complicated. It feels like I’m always burning up when I’m around you. Like, there’s something inside me that’s fighting to get out when you’re near.”

You raise your eyebrows and let out a half laugh, “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“No, no it is!” Shawn laughs and swings your joined hands. “It feels like…like I’m so happy I could explode. It feels like on Christmas when you know what’s in that one specially wrapped box and you know it’s the one thing you wanted so bad and you’re actually getting it.”

“That’s crazy, there’s no way that’s the same feeling,” you laugh and smile up at him and he stops to step in front of you and grabs your other hand. It feels strange, being so comfortable with him like this when only an hour or two ago you were crying because of Liam. “Shawn..what’re you doing?”

“I wish you could feel it. I wish you could feel how I’m burning up and my body is humming and I can’t see anything but you right now.”

“Shawn…” you say quietly, staring up at him, letting the rest of your thought trail off. You’re not moving, not pulling your hands away and neither is he. You don’t want to move an inch in fear it’ll ruin the moment. It feels so right, standing here hand in hand with him.

He’s looking at you, eyes searching yours for any sign of how you feel. He’s trying to transfer the feeling he’s described to you, you just know it. You can feel his hands getting hotter in yours and you look down, breaking eye contact for just a second. “You feel it?” he asks, voice hopeful and you nod a little.

“I feel your hands burning up,” you look up at him once more and his eyes are golden and so pretty. Last time you saw them like this, you had challenged him out of spite in Myra’s hallway.

Shawn leans in and your heart races. You think he’s going to kiss you and you aren’t sure you’re really in a position to be doing that quite yet. He leans his forehead against yours and his eyes are closed. You close yours too and the two of you stand there quietly while the wind rustles the freshly fallen leaves around you.

“Shawn?” someone calls out from behind you. You open your eyes at the same time Shawn does. He looks up and past you to see who was calling for him as you turn around to see who it was.

A tall girl with long brown hair comes walking toward you. She’s dressed in a very fashionable dark vest and pants with with tall boots on. She looks like one of those girls off the cover of a Fall fashion catalogue. As she approaches you realize who she is. It’s Taylor Velacruz, you knew her from school, the two of you were in a lot of the same classes. “Shawn! Oh, sorry I didn’t realize I was interrupting you and your….” she trails off as she looks you over. “Mate,” Shawn says firmly as he puts his arm around your middle. You swallow thickly, aware of how protective Shawn was being. You decide to keep quiet and wait until she addressed you. “Oh! I didn’t know it’d been announced. I’d thought I would have caught wind of it, since our families are pretty close and all.” “We’re keeping it quiet for now.” Shawn seems different. Cold, guarded, arm tight against you. “A mutual decision.” Taylor makes an ohh face and nods, with a sickening sweet smile, “Cuz she’s a human right?” You frown and start to say something about how Taylor should mind her own business but Shawn cuts you off. “You should keep going, now, Taylor.” “Bossy bossy alpha,” Taylor singsongs as she starts walking past the two of you. “Wish you were that bossy when we were together, makes me feel all warm inside.” She winks and turns away to go about her business. Your cheeks get hot and you feel…angry? Jealous? Shawn was your mate and she needed to back off with that shit. You watch her until she’s out if sight behind some trees. “What’s her problem?” “You’re her problem. We used to date, she thought for sure I was her mate. Turns out she was just obsessed with me,” Shawn releases his hold on your middle and takes your hand, leading you back the way you came. “She thinks because our families are close she had some advantage to being my mate. She wants an alpha so bad it’s depressing.” “She can’t have you,” you say quietly and Shawn stares at you curiously while you walk. “Oh?” He asks coyly. “Shut up…” “Alright,” Shawn says, smiling big. The two of you walk back to your house in comfortable silence, the events that just unfolded, the feelings you were having, all of it swimming around in your head.

_______________________

Shawn stops by almost everyday for the next two weeks. Some days he stays for a while and others he’s in and out because he was just on his way to go do some work with his uncle who owned a custom wood furniture business in town. The days he stays you’ve usually got some reading or a webinar for your online courses you signed up for at the beginning of the fall. He will just come in, no longer waiting to be invited since you leave your sliding door unlocked, and he just lays on your bed with you. Usually he falls asleep curled around you from behind while you’re taking notes or focusing on the demonstration in one of the webinars. It’s comfortable, easy, nice to feel cared for.

A few times he has brought some take out from the only chinese place in town. You don’t know how he found out it was your favorite place, but he did. That or he just guessed, or it was his favorite too. Today is one of those days and as Shawn steps through the doorway, you can see he has a bag of food from the chinese place again, and there is a little extra brown bag with the shop’s logo on it. It’s the bag they use for their special maki rolls, your absolute favorite thing. You become instantly suspicious of Shawn’s knowledge about the chinese place being your favorite. Before it would easily have been a coincidence, but this time…the order was too perfect.

“Do you have maki rolls?” you ask from your place on the bed, eyes narrowing in on the bag.

“Sure do. You like them?” Shawn smiles, sets the larger bag of containers on your desk and waves the little bag at you. “I got extra.”

“They’re my favorite. Who told you? Did someone tell you?” You grab for the bag as he holds it over your head. “Spill the bean, Mendes!”

Shawn laughs loudly at your affectionately angered use of his last name. He keeps the bag away from you. “If I told you how I knew, what do I get in return?”

“Hmm, I won’t kick you?”

“Oh you’re not gonna kick m-” You kick your leg out and knock him right in the shins. “Ow!” He drops down a bit, favoring his leg and you snatch the maki roll bag from him.

“I’m not gonna do what now?” you smile as you pull out a maki roll and a little cup of hot chili sauce. “Now, tell me who told you this was my favorite.”

Shawn drops down on the bed next to you, takes the bag away, and grabs the one you have halfway in your mouth. You manage to bite off most it before he gets it. “Hey, stop that! We’re going out to eat this.”

You furrow your brow in question. “But,” you cover your mouth as you chew, “we’re already here? Why leave?”

Shawn pops the rest of the maki roll he took from you into his mouth. “Because I wanna take you out.” He looks a little red, flushed. Was he asking you out? Like on a date? As if he read your mind he says, “Like on a date. Will you go out with me?”

You nod and close your laptop to put it on your pillows. “About time you asked me out,” you joke with him as you stand up to put on your hiking boots by the door. “You’ve only slept in my bed like a billion times.”

“Six times, thank you,” he says as he gets up and grabs the rest of the food off the desk.

“Hmm, counting the days huh?” you tease him and he rolls his eyes. You pull on your hat with the ear flaps and fur inside, stuff a pair of gloves in your pocket and gesture to the door. “Werewolves first.” He laughs and steps through your doorway with you close behind.

Shawn leads you to a small park by the elementary school a few blocks over. There’s no one around and you see a table with a blue scarf with a circular mandala design draped over it. He sets the food down and you take a seat. He sits opposite and pushes you the foam container with your name on it. “This is pretty,” you say tapping the fabric covered table.

“It’s mine. I have a couple like it, they’re really old. My grandma gave them to me,” Shawn says as he opens his food. Of course it’s an array of sushi and sauce cups. He laughs and says, “Try not to get food all over it.”

“Oh man, now I’m really going to have an accident since you’ve said something. Why not bring an old sheet or something?” You open your box to find your favorite, a massive helping of lo mein with extra shrimp and beef. This man was truly out for your heart at this point.

“I wanted it to look nice,” Shawn looks a little sheepish as he says this. He picks up a piece of what looks like a spicy tuna roll and puts the whole piece in his mouth.

“Shawn, you know you don’t have to impress me, right? I mean, look at me,” you wave your hand down over yourself in your red jacket, old skinny jeans, hiking boots and your hat with the ear flaps, hair beneath unbrushed and pulled back in a messy ponytail. If it were anyone else, you think you’d have probably changed into something better.

Shawn laughs and reaches across the table to tug at your hat ear flaps. “You look cute, like you always do. I just wanted our first date to be memorable.” You take a few bites of your food and he smiles big. “I got the right dish?”

“Mmhmm, how’d you know my order? Are you a psychic werewolf?” You grab the bag of maki rolls from in front of him and shake a few out onto your foam lid, popping open the chili sauce and dunking one before biting it.

“No, not psychic. The owner and I are pretty good friends and he said that him and his wife saw me walking you home the other day, when you left Myra’s on your birthday. So I guess they assumed we were dating and when I went to order, they asked if you wanted your usual? I just said yes and paid for the food.”

You let out a laugh and bite another maki roll. “I must go there too often. It really is my favorite place to eat.”

“Mine too. His wife makes killer sushi.” He holds up a piece between his chopsticks and offers it to you. “Try it. It’s the shrimp tempura roll, my favorite.”

You lean forward and take the piece into your mouth. It’s incredibly good, it’s sweet and spicy from the sauce on top and the shrimp is lightly fried inside of it. “Oh my god, that’s so good!” you exclaim, eyeing the rest of the pieces like it.

“You got a little something on your chin,” Shawn says, pointing at your chin. You try to lick it off but fail. He leans forward, reaches out, fingers under your chin so you don’t pull away, and wipes off a bit of the sweet and spicy sauce with his thumb. Before he pulls his hand away and before you really think about what you’re doing, you lick his thumb clean, eyes locked with his.

Shawn leans forward over the table and guides you forward so he can kiss you. It’s a sweet, soft kiss and he holds your chin gently as he does so. It sends a spark through you and you lift your hand up to rest on his face as he kisses you slowly. You lean up out of your seat to get closer and Shawn grins against your lips. He teases his tongue along your lip and you lick over the spot as he pulls away for a moment.

“You taste like fishy sushi,” you laugh softly.

“And you taste like noodles,” he retorts before kissing you again, this time biting your lip softly before pulling away completely to keep eating. “Don’t you know you should finish your dinner before asking for dessert like that?” he says, stuffing a piece of sushi in his mouth and laughing. You reach across the table and smack his shoulder playfully.

_____________________

Three days pass. Then four. Then five.

Shawn hasn’t come to see you since he walked you home after your date in the park. It went well, everything had been perfect. The two of you kissed again when he left you at your door and he promised to be by the next day. He didn’t show up and you texted him but he didn’t reply. You texted him again and still, nothing.

Day three brings the sick feeling in your stomach. The feeling like you’ve been punched and now it hurts and you want to vomit. The thought of him doing what Liam did to you hurts. It makes your stomach clench, twist, flip and flop. Thoughts of Taylor, his ex girlfriend, fill your mind. Maybe he went back to her since she was a werewolf. Definitely prettier than you. She could handle him, she could handle him for what he was. You start to think of how weak you are compared to a werewolf. How you shouldn’t even be mated to him. You throw up in your trash by the desk. The rest of the day you fight off the shakes and attempt to put the thoughts out of your head by immersing yourself in your school work. Shawn wasn’t Liam. Shawn wouldn’t do that. Shawn wouldn’t go back to Taylor, he was so cold toward her. It wasn’t going to happen.

Day four and you had sent him maybe a few dozen texts by then. The thought of him cheating was still prominent in your mind but now you were worried something bad may have happened. Although, you’re not sure what could harm him that badly. You decide if he doesn’t text back or show up by the next night, you would walk over to his place and talk to him, or his parents and find out what was going on.

Day five, today. It’s after seven at night, the sun is nearly set and you can see the huge old brick house on the Oak Grove estate ahead of you. There’s a light on in an upstairs window and both of the first floor windows are lit up. Someone is home for sure.

It’s cold and you’re shaking. Your thin jacket not enough to ward off the cold air seeping into your bones. Your stomach hurts, cramping, threatening to make you double over in pain with each step closer. Did you want to know what happened? What if Taylor was there? What if Shawn wasn’t who you thought he was? What if it was all a joke? Oh god….oh god here it comes you’re going to-

You’re squatted on the lawn, maybe ten feet from the front door, losing your dinner all over the leaves covering the ground. You’re crying, embarrassed you’ve puked on their lawn, upset you’ve let yourself get so worked up. You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and just stay there, staring at the sick on the leaves and you want to get up but your legs don’t seem to want to listen.

“Honey, are you alright?” Shawn’s mom, Karen, asks from the front door. “Honey…” she’s approaching you, steps hurried. She lays her hand on your back and asks, “Can you get up? Is your stomach alright?”

You nod pitifully. Suddenly your legs want to listen and you stand up. Her hand remains on your back as she assesses you. “I-I’m sorry. I can clean it up. I didn’t mean to…I don’t know what happened. I just-” you stumble over your words, brain scattered. Fresh tears start welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks. “Is Shawn home?”

“Yes. He’s not going to be able to come out though.” Karen looks worried as she says this which makes you fear something bad truly has happened. “It’s the full moon tonight, dear. Shawn is…he is having a hard time controlling himself right now, he-”

There’s a loud noise within the house and you and Karen both look to the open front door. There is shouting. A man’s voice. It’s Manny, Shawn’s father you’re sure. Karen grabs your arm and starts walking the two of you away from the house briskly. You’re tripping on your own feet, the leaves making it hard to keep up with her because they keep giving way under your feet when you stumble. “What’s going on? Why are we-” you turn to look back and there’s a very large wolf with golden eyes and rich dark brown almost black fur is standing on their front porch. “Is that Sha-”

“Run! Run now!” Karen screams at you and she starts running fast. Faster than you can keep up and you fall, her hand leaving your arm. She’s at your side in a second, pulling you up but it’s too late. “If he catches you I don’t know what will happ-”

As soon as you get to your feet, you’re knocked backwards. A flash of dark fur only a blur in your vision before the world is spinning as you hit the ground hard enough that your head bounces off the leaves and dead grass beneath. You can make out Karen backing away from you. Your vision clears and you’re met with dark fur tickling your nose. It hurts to breathe, the weight of the wolf on you is crushing your lungs into your body. It’s growling, the sounds reverberating through your body.

“Please, don’t please!” you’re crying, breathing hurts, you’re scared. He’s snarling, teeth at your collarbone. You grab handfuls of fur and pull hard. It does nothing, you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder and you scream. White hot pain shoots through your shoulder. It burns, feels like you’re completely on fire and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re screaming, sobbing, hurting. It feels like you’re dying. You can feel your blood, warm, wet, pooling against the skin of your back, running down your chest. Your hand goes limp in his fur and your arm falls lifelessly to the side as the pain throbs throughout your whole chest. It’s only a matter of seconds before you black out but before you do you hear a loud thud and the weight on your chest is gone as you slip into darkness.

The room you wake up in smells like vanilla and cinnamon and something you can’t quite identify but it’s familiar. You know it but you can’t put your finger on it. The room is warm, quiet, a dim light from a bedside table illuminates the room in a soft yellow glow.

It’s only a matter of moments before your shoulder throbs, shooting pain down your arm. You look at it, you’re in a white shirt you weren’t wearing before and there’s gauze or something on your shoulder. Suddenly everything was coming back to you. The wolf tackling you, Karen yelling, not being able to breath. The pain. God, the pain. You try to move your hand but it just causes more pain. “Hello?” you call out, your voice hoarse and raspy from screaming you assume. How long had you been out? How were you alive?

There’s a door to your left and it opens, Karen pops her head in. “You’re awake,” she says as she comes in, leaving the door open and coming to your side. “How is your shoulder? Is the pain bad?”

You shake your head. It wasn’t unbearably bad, just uncomfortable, “It’s hurting but I can bear it.”

“I’ll get you something for it. Good news is, the wounds didn’t look too deep.” Karen turns to leave and you look at where she’s stopped halfway to the door. Beyond her, leaning against the door frame is Shawn.

“I’ll take care of it,” Shawn whispers and Karen moves past him, saying something like “are you sure?” and he nods as he just stares at you. There is a surge of joy that pulses through you like a shot of energy. He wasn’t with Taylor, he was there, with you, and you realized how much you had really missed him. That joy doesn’t last long, just long enough to act as a painkiller for a moment before you really look at Shawn, actually take in his appearance.

He looks like hell. His hair is messed up, wild, looks like it’s been through hurricane force winds. He looks tired, face sunken, not bright and cheery like usual. He’s shirtless, his arms are crossed but you can see they’re scratched up and his chest is bruised. You can’t help but stare, wondering for a moment why he was in such a way when he could heal himself. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t-,” his voice sounds strained like yours had and he steps into the room, and backs against the wall beside the door, his head in his hands.

It hits you. The wolf really was Shawn. He did this. “Shawn, what happened?” Your chest aches and it’s not from the shoulder wound. It hurts to think that he hurt you like this, it hurts to see him like this.

Shawn shakes his head and he’s crying, his face red as he looks up and walks closer. “I- god, babe..” he touches your wrist gingerly, as if he’s afraid to touch you. Like you might break into a thousand pieces right there in his hands. You start to cry, overwhelmed by it all. He drops to his knees beside the bed and slides his hand into yours, careful not to move it too much and cause your shoulder to hurt. “I’m sorry,” he says again, bringing his lips to your hand in his.

His hand gets hot in yours, that familiar burning sensation building in the tender skin of your palm. The pain in your shoulder lessens but only a little. His hand stops getting hot, returning to it’s normal warmth. “I’m too weak, I can’t heal you, can’t even heal myself,” he says quietly. He sounds broken. Everything about him is broken.

You reach over and thread your fingers through his hair. “I thought werewolves were in control during the full moon.”

“I was, before.”

“Before?”

“Before you. When I wasn’t mated I was fine. The need to make you mine drove me crazy, I blacked out and I don’t remember anything after I shifted. I woke up and you were on my dining room table, bleeding, and my mom was trying to save you.” Shawn chokes up, a sob racking his whole body and he presses his head to your hand joined with his. “I thought I killed you, I thought I- I wanted to die right then and there I was so sick with guilt.”

You’re crying, squeezing his hand. “But I didn’t die,” you say and he shakes his head, still against your hand. “Because you saved me, not your mom right?”

Shawn nods. He lets out another sob followed by a shuddering breath. “It took everything from me, I’m so tired, so drained. I sat there and begged, cried, pleaded with every deity I could even think of, just to give me enough strength to make you strong enough to survive.”

“I would have died if you hadn’t come to your senses.” The thought leaves you hollow. The fact you had come so close to death without truly realizing it was shocking.

“You would have never been in danger if it weren’t for me,” he says quietly.

You’re crying again, sadness and joy battling it out inside you. On one hand, you could have easily died and left everyone you knew in shock. On the other, you’re happy to be alive. Happy to see Shawn, happy to be there with him right now because even though he was the one that caused this, he was the one you should be angry, scared, upset with, you can’t bring yourself to be. You look down at his head, rested against your hand and you wiggle your fingers to get his attention and he looks up at you. “But I didn’t die,” you say and smile through your tears.

“No, you didn’t but I need you to know something.”

“What?”

Shawn stands up and lets go of your hand. He’s looking down as he speaks, voice low and trembling with every word, “You’re going to get very sick. Very, very sick and I’m sorry. You’re alive, you’re not bleeding out, but something worse is going to happen.”

Your stomach drops as he speaks. “What are you talking about? I’ll heal just fine I’m sure, Karen said the wounds weren’t too deep. As long as I keep it clean it shouldn’t get infec-”

“I’m not talking about an infection.”

“Then what are you talki-”

“I bit you. I’m an alpha and I bit you. You’re going to turn.”  Shawn’s shaking again, his whole body trembling. He lets out a dry sob, tears no longer coming. “Your body is going to reject it, human bodies always fight the genetic transformation,” he looks at you and takes a deep breath. “It’ll kill you, it always does.”

“I won’t die,” you say numbly. His words not truly setting in, and you find yourself in denial. “I won’t.”

“Babe, you can’t stop it if your body starts to shut d-”

“You won’t let me die,” you say as you look up at him. He looks confused, his eyes are red and his face is swollen and puffy. “You won’t, right?”

“I-I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop it.”

“I didn’t ask if you were strong enough. I asked if you would let me die.”

Shawn steps forward and leans down and kisses you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I promise I won’t let you die,” he says against your lips. He threads his fingers into your hair and kisses you harder, and you do, you trust him.

_____________________

You call your mom and let her know you’re going to be staying at your friend Ashley’s house for a few days because she is going through a rough patch with her husband. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gone to comfort her for a few days so your mom buys the lie. Little did she know, Ashley was actually out of town for several weeks on a cruise in the Bahamas with her husband for their late honeymoon.

Shawn wakes you up in the middle of the night on the second night since the accident. He had taken to laying on the bed with you during the day and keeping his hand intertwined with yours while you slept because if you started to hurt, he could ease the pain for long enough to let you rest again. It’s just after 2am if the clock on the nightstand was right. You didn’t hurt, in fact you felt pretty good, no pain at all really, so you were confused as of why Shawn was waking you up.

“Babe,” he says softly from beside you on the bed. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, you were squeezing my hand so hard it woke me up.”

“Sorry,” he says, sitting up and letting go of your hand. “It got cold, I was worried you were slipping away.”

You shake your head and sit up with him. “Did you get some rest?” you ask sleepily and he nods.

“Must have gotten enough sleep to restore almost all of my energy because…” he leans across you and flips on the bedside lamp, placing a kiss on your forehead on the way back. “My body has healed.” He holds his arms out and they look normal, no longer scratched and his chest isn’t bruised up either. “Which means I should be getting stronger so I can fix your shoulder.”

You rub your eyes and yawn big. “That’s good.”

“Can I look at it?” Shawn asks and reaches for your shirt hem to pull it off. You nod and he pulls your shirt up over your head and you’re completely exposed to him, your bra having been disposed off when Karen redressed you after the bleeding was under control. His gaze lingers for a moment on your breasts and he bites his lip. A blush creeps up your neck and into your cheeks.

“Shawn, my shoulder,” you say gently to remind him. His eyes snap up to yours and then he moves close, straddling your legs and sitting on your thighs so he can get a good look at the wound once he undresses it.

Shawn peels back the tape holding the pile of gauze against your skin. He’s careful not to let it stick to itself as he tugs the cotton pads from the blood dried against your skin. You can’t look over at it since he’s so close, so you just press your cheek to his hair. Shawn sets the bandage aside on the bed carefully and you feel his warm fingertips on your skin. You’re expecting it to sting like it usually did when you accidentally bumped the bandage. It didn’t though. Shawn’s fingertips were smoothing over the whole area and you weren’t hurting.

“You’re nearly healed babe,” he pulls back and looks at you with a big grin.

“Huh?” You crane your neck back to look at the afflicted area and there’s just a big loop of pink scars where his teeth punctured. “How? I noticed it didn’t hurt much before bed, and when I woke up just now.”

Shawn leans forward and kisses over the scars, they’re a little tender as he pushes his lips against you. “I must of had enough energy to heal myself and finish you up too while we were sleeping”

You lift your arm up and it doesn’t hurt. The pain is gone, replaced by a little bit of stiffness. You grin big and kiss his cheek as he gets your shirt ready to put back on. You push the shirt away and pull him back with you as you lay back down. “We can sleep like this,” you smile big and he doesn’t protest, only pulls the blankets over the two of you and remains pressed naked against you.

_____________________

By the third day you feel like you’re dying. You can’t move, your body hurts, you are burning up and all you can do is cry. It feels like you’ve been beaten with a bat, everywhere. You’re so hot, even with the AC on and a fan on in Shawn’s bedroom in the middle of fall, you feel like you’re in a sauna.

Every couple of minutes Shawn takes your temperature and then holds your hand until your body stops hurting. Karen brings in of ice packs every couple hours for you and Shawn keeps them on your forehead and chest. You try to sleep but you can’t, the aches wake you up or don’t let you sleep.

“Shawn, please, I can’t,” you say quietly. You’re so tired, so in pain and he can’t stave it off anymore, you’ve drained him. “Please I want it to stop.”

“I know, babe,” Shawn says, petting back your sweat soaked hair. “I’m sorry I did this to you. You don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you try to swat at his hand but he ends up just holding it. “Stupid….stupid werewolf.”

Shawn smiles softly. “Yes, you’ve told me before. You hate me.”

“No…” you look up at him and your vision is swimming. You close your eyes and try to focus. “I don’t hate you. You’re just stupid.”

“I know. You should hate me though. I forced this on you.” Shawn’s hand gets hot in yours and he’s healing you again though he has no energy to. “We never got to even discuss this. I never would have bitten you, never, even if you wanted it.”

“Do you love me?” you ask softly, smiling at him and you’re finally starting to fall asleep, the ache in your bones edging off from his healing.

“Babe, we’re not talking about this right now.”

“Shawn, if I die I want to know if-”

“You aren’t going to die. We can talk about this later.”

You yawn and fall asleep for the first time that day.

_____________________

You don’t remember much of day four. There’s bits and pieces, you hear Shawn talking to someone now and then. He sits you up for water and some kind of medicine that tastes like licorice. You dream of swimming, drowning, and strong arms pull you out of the water. You dream of being on fire, burning up while you cry for help and Shawn comes and carries you out. There’s a constant stream of nightmares where you’re alone in the dark and something, a wolf, is hunting you and you hide and run so it won’t get you. It goes on like this for another day. Sleep, water, medicine, sleep, nightmares.

On the sixth day you wake up to Shawn carrying you outside. It’s freezing and it’s dark out. The air feels great on your superheated skin. It must be early morning or later in the evening. The way the birds are chirping you think it must be before dawn. Shawn’s shoes crunch on the frosted leaves as he carries you to an unknown destination.

“Where are we going?” you ask and your voice is but a whisper. “It’s cold.”

“I’m taking you to Myra,” Shawn says, looking down and kissing your forehead. “You’re almost done. I promise..”

The moment you are in Myra’s cabin you start sweating again. Shawn lays you on a couch in the living room and sits on the floor next to you. Myra comes over and she takes your hand. “Have you dreamed of the wolf yet?” she asks and you nod. “Has it caught you?”

You shake your head. It felt like days you’d been dreaming about the wolf hunting you, having a new dream of it each time you fell asleep, but you always managed to get away or hide well enough. You were getting tired though, in the dreams, and you were sure it would get you eventually. “Myra, should I let it get me?”

“No. You must hide, or run because the wolf will kill you both in the dream and in the real world. You cannot let it kill you no matter how tired you get.”

Shawn holds your hand and squeezes. “Babe, you have to tame it.”

You look at him, eyes heavy, vision blurry. You’re so tired. “But I’m tired, even in the dreams. How can I tame it?”

Myra kneels beside you and Shawn and puts a cup to your lips to drink from. “This is medicine, it makes you sleep deeper so you can dream more vividly. The wolf must be tamed tonight, your body can’t handle this fever anymore.”

Soon after drinking the medicine, your eyes get heavier and you fall asleep. You awake in the woods. You’re alone and it’s dark, there are no sounds around you. No crickets, no birds, nothing but silence. Then you hear it, a low growling sound behind you. Spinning around, you see a small reddish brown wolf pacing the perimeter of the circle of trees you’re standing in. You pick up a stick at your feet and hold it out, watching the wolf watch you.

“I won’t let you kill me,” you say, backing up as the wolf moves closer. The wolf lunges at you and you jump out of the way. “No!” you yell and you swing your stick at it. “No! You’re not taking me from Shawn!”

The wolf laughs. It laughs and you are staring at it, not seeing it it’s mouth open at all, but you can hear laughter. “Why do you care?” a voice says and the wolf is circling you, staring, as if it was talking to you. “He will be fine. He will move on with another girl, a werewolf.”

“No…no! He’s my mate!” you swing your stick and hit the wolf as it jumps at you.

“You’re a human! You’ll just make him miserable! Human’s can’t be werewolves mates!” The wolf snaps at you and gets your arm, white hot pain shoots up to your shoulder where Shawn bit you.

“Fuck you!” you cry out and lunge at the wolf. It jumps back and you hit the ground, face first into the leaves. You roll over and the wolf jumps on you. You bring your hands to it’s throat and keep its snapping jaws at bay. Your arm hurts, shoulder throbbing, it feels like the wound has reopened and your arm is shaking, grip faltering on the wolf.

Your hand slides in it’s fur and you are sure this is it. You’re going to lose this fight. Suddenly your arm feels hot, strong, and you grab it by the back of the neck, your strength returning and you somehow pull it off your chest and get the upper hand, rolling it over and sitting on it.

“I won’t die. Not like this, not now!” You use all your strength and keep the squirming wolf beneath you still. It’s kicking, claws cutting your legs and chest but you won’t let go. “Stop! Stop it!” you scream and surprisingly the wolf stops, going still under you, face pressed into the ground.

You fall back off the wolf and it gets up, circling a few times before coming close to you. It licks your arm where it had bitten you. The wound starts to heal. It backs up, turning as if it were heading to the trees before it turns around and runs at you. You don’t have time to move before it hits you, a solid weight slamming against your chest.

You wake up, sitting bolt upright and look around. You’re in Myra’s living room, Shawn is on his knees beside you. “What…” you mumble as you look at your arm where the bite had been. “I think I did it?” You look at Shawn and a huge grin spreads across his face.

“Your eyes babe, god they’re beautiful,” Shawn takes your head in his hands and he’s just staring at you. “They’re so golden,” he says and kisses you hard, lips working against yours desperately.

The moment he touches you, you feel alive. It feels like you’re buzzing, your heart is racing and you can’t get enough of him. You grab his forearms and in one fluid motion, you’re crawling off the couch and landing on him, your legs tangled with his, mouth finding his again, desperate to taste him. That drive Shawn talked about, the want and need for you, you think you finally understand.

_____________________

The moment Shawn carries you into his bedroom is the moment you know you have fallen in love. There on the bed is the remains of the area where he held your hand and kept you alive day after day. There’s a couple of empty water bottles on the floor, a thawed ice pack, and some towels. The last five days had been hell, but here you were, in Shawn’s arms, standing at the foot of the bed on day six. Shawn stayed at your side for every minute, only leaving you to use the bathroom or shower. You had made it. You survived.

“Shawn,” you smile at him and he sets you on the bed. “Thank you.”

“No, babe. Thank you. You were the one who was strong enough to survive.”

You tug Shawn down and he catches himself, leaning over you as you kiss him. “I know I’m weak still, but I want you so bad right now.”

Shawn grins and breaks the kiss to nose at your jaw. “I know the feeling,” he says and grabs your hips to push you up the bed more. He kisses his way down your chest, your stomach, and gets on his knees to kiss your growing arousal. “Babe, god, you…,” he tugs your loose pants over your ass  and down your legs so he can kiss up your bare thighs. “So sweet,” he kisses and kisses until he’s hovering his mouth between your legs, breath hot. Your hands go to his hair and you tug, pulling his mouth away from you and you close your legs as best you can. He growls and grabs your thighs a little roughly, pushing you open for him before he is pressing his face back down and licking you through your panties.

His mouth is hot and spreads fire through your veins with each pass of his tongue over your clit. You grind yourself up against his mouth and he licks, sucks, nibbles at you hungrily. This was nothing like Liam. Liam couldn’t eat you out if his life depended on it. After a few agonizing minutes of white hot pleasure, hair pulling, loud moaning and some name calling, you’re close to coming. Shawn has two fingers in you, working you open while he worries your clit between his lips. It’s not long after Shawn starts curling his middle finger on his withdrawals that you’re tossing your head and crying to come.  

You lay on the bed, stomach muscles tired and aching from your orgasm. Shawn left the room after peppering your thighs with gentle kisses and praising you for being “So good for me, babe.” The sky outside is orange tinted, it’s morning, the sun rising slowly and you are smiling because nothing had ever felt that good before. Shawn was something else. You didn’t know if it was because you’re a werewolf now, or because Shawn is just that good, but you feel satisfied beyond belief. After a minute or two, you sit up to get covered up and Shawn walks back into the room, kicking the door closed gently behind him.

“Going somewhere?” he asks and looks you over where you’re sitting in the middle of the bed, pulling your borrowed sweatpants on over your feet.

“No,” you laugh and gesture to your half nakedness. “Just don’t want to be half naked anymore.”

Shawn crosses the room in a few quick strides and tosses your sweatpants aside. He slides his hands under your shirt and tickles your ribs a little as he get your shirt off over your head. “Now you’re not half naked.”

You flush bright red. Shawn’s eyes were raking over you, getting more golden by the second. His attention was not unwanted. But he was acting like you’d never seen before. He was so lust driven, so hot, so hungry for you. You can’t help but wonder how he held this back before. “Maybe I should rest for the day?”

Shawn pushes you back with one hand and your head bounces off the mattress as it connects. He crawls over you and kisses across your chest, licking and sucking every bit of skin he can get his mouth on. He licks a long hot wet stripe up from your collarbone to just past the hollow of your throat. “Maybe,” he licks the tender skin where your neck and jaw meet, “maybe you could rest while I make you mine.”

You tangle your hand into his hair and just run your hand through the bulk of the top of his hair. It’s so soft, so thick, so perfect between your fingers. “Don’t think I’d get much rest.”

Shawn nips and sucks a spot just behind your earlobe. “Promise I’ll be gentle.”

“What exactly are you going to do?” you question, tilting your head back instinctively for him.

“Well,” he starts before returning his mouth to your collarbone. “I wanna taste every inch of you.” He runs his hand up your side and settles it on your hip, thumb rubbing circles over your skin. “I wanna touch every inch of you.”

“Shawnnnnn,” you groan and he just smiles against your skin. “Isn’t there time later?” You really wouldn’t mind his attention. It sounded amazing. But you still needed rest, you only just started feeling better. It was truly an internal struggle.

“I really can’t stop,” Shawn says with a smirk. He moves lower and takes your nipple into his mouth. You jerk, and he holds you down with one hand splayed out on your stomach, pressing down gently to keep you still for him. “Babe, do you know what you are?”

“A werewolf?” you ask and he laughs softly, hand on your stomach now rubbing up and down.

“Mmm, yes, but do you know what kind?” He switches to your other nipple, biting and licking it while you squirm.

“A new one?”

Shawn laughs louder this time, resting his forehead on your chest for a moment. “No, babe. You’re an omega. A sweet,” he kiss between your breasts, moving himself down off of you, “sweet,” he kisses lower, nipping close to your navel, “delicious little omega.” He pushes your leg out a little and slides two fingers into you with no notice. You arch your back and gasp and he rubs his thumb over your clit, slowly massaging two fingers in and out of you. “And you’re all mine,” he says with a grin and you close your eyes, pleasure building quick in your lower stomach. It takes only a few more strokes and you’re coming, body jerking and spasming around his fingers. You absolutely were his. All his.

_____________________

After a night of rest and a morning of breakfast followed by lazy sex with Shawn, you feel loads better, the wolf in you healing you the way it should. You’re nearly home, walking out of the woods when you catch sight of wood boarding up the sliding glass door to your bedroom. Its unsettling as you approach the back of your house and you’re wondering if everyone and everything was okay inside. You and Shawn walk around to the front door and you walk in the house, announcing you’re home. Nobody is in the living room and you walk through into the kitchen to find your mom standing at the kitchen sink, peeling some potatoes.

“Hey! You’re home! We’ve been calling you since yesterday. Did your phone die? It’s been days!” your mom drops her potatoes and pulls you into a hug. “Oh…um, who is this?” she points at where Shawn is standing in the door frame, smiling politely.

“Yeah, my phone died. Sorry, I should have called anyways. I got caught up.” You reach for Shawn and he grabs your outstretched hand. “This is Shawn, we went to school together,” your mom doesn’t seem to recognize him, “…Manny Mendes’ son?”

“Oh! Yes! Wow, you’ve gotten tall,” your mom laughs. “I’m Grace,” she holds her hand out and Shawn shakes it, introducing himself properly. “So, were you really at Ashley’s house?” You shake your head and your mom sighs softly. “You are twenty years old, you’re allowed to make your own decisions. I’m not angry you were with Shawn, just a little annoyed you lied.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. Um, by the way, what happened to my door downstairs?”

Grace sighs and leans against the sink. “The day after you called to say you were going to stay at Ashley’s, someone broke in. We didn’t see any evidence that anyone came into the house or stole anything. Your dad boarded it up and we’re waiting for the glass company to come out and replace the door.”

“What?!” you shout and take off for your bedroom. Shawn follows close behind, tugging you away from your bedroom door as you stomp toward it. “Shawn, let go of me!”

“No,” he says firmly, arms wrapped around your middle. “I want to go in first.”

“Why?” you fuss against his hold and he mutters for you to stop, lips against your ear, the light stubble from not shaving since you got sick scratches your earlobe. “Shawn, why?”

“I want to go in and see if I can tell who it was.”

“How are you going t-”

Shawn steps around you and taps his nose. “I know your scent. If anyone else was in there, I’ll know.” You’re skeptical of him as he opens the door and walks into your room. You step in behind him and it’s cold, the boarded up glass door doing little to keep the crisp air out. Shawn looks around, casually touching your lotions and perfume on your dresser. He stills as he reaches your bed, body visibly tensing up. He turns his head and looks at you. “What would Liam want from you?”

“Liam?” you ask, confused. “I don’t know? Why? Was it him?”

Shawn grips the pajamas on your bed and tosses them at the boarded door. “That piece of shit was in here. I don’t know what he wanted, what he took, but he was here.”

You cross your arms over your chest and look around for anything missing. A sick feeling works its way into your stomach. Liam had come back for something, or maybe you. You try to think of anything Liam ever bought you, and you start checking your dresser for a bracelet he got you for Valentine’s Day. It’s still on the little dish where you kept it. You mentally note to sell it later. Your laptop is on the bed, battery drained, but still there. You check your shoes and the boots he got you were still there. There wasn’t anything out of place as far as you could see.

“Babe,” Shawn says, tone low and threatening. “Don’t get on your bed.”

“W-what?” you step back from your bed and look it over. It didn’t look messed up any more than usual, but there was something on your pillowcase. Something that looked like dried snot. You reach for it and tug the pillow closer by the corner. You look at the blankets as you do so and you realize what it is. Liam hadn’t taken anything from you. Because he didn’t want anything. He had come for you.

“Is this…dried come?” you look to Shawn and he is burning up, eyes golden, body shaking.

“I’ll kill him.”

“Shawn! He’s just an asshole, he is probably just upset because I called him out on his bull-”

Shawn grabs your hips and tugs you against him. “No. He fucking came in here and he wanted you. He broke into your room and god only knows what he was going to do to you. This,” he nods at the bed, “gives me a fucking idea that his intentions were not to talk.”

You’re shaking. Nerves getting the best of you. The reality of the situation sinking in. The thought of Liam coming into your room and doing this. The violation of your privacy. The things that could have happened. You wrap your arms around Shawn and he hugs you tightly, hand in your hair, breathing heavy. “What if he comes back?” you ask, voice muffled by Shawn’s chest.

“He won’t come back.”

You look up at Shawn and he’s staring at the bed. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I’m going to make sure he doesn’t.”

_____________________

Everything hits the fan when you walk upstairs with Shawn and your dad is home. He takes one look and he knows exactly who Shawn is. What Shawn is. His face turns a little red, and you know he’s ready to blow up. This wasn’t exactly how you wanted to introduce Shawn to him, but here you were.

“So, are you the one that broke into my daughter’s room?” your dad, Alan, asks with his arms folded. He tilts his head a little and you know he’s going to challenge Shawn.

“Sir,” Shawn starts with an oh so sweet smile, “I wouldn’t need to break into your daughters room.”

That’s it. That does it. You can see something in your dad snap. Why did Shawn have to be like this right now? He was already heated from the fact that Liam had been in your room and done what he did. Why did your dad have to open with such an accusatory question? You groan, wishing Shawn could have just answered with a simple, “No.”

“Exactly what are you implying?” Alan asks, stepping forward toward you and Shawn. Bad choice dad. Bad choice.

Shawn steps in front of you and straightens his back. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. “I wasn’t implying anything. Simply stating a fact.” Shawn crosses his arms and looks your dad up and down. Properly sizing him up as an opponent. “I know who did break in though.”

Alan looks Shawn over, squaring him up the same way Shawn was. He fell short by about four inches and several pounds of muscle. There was no way your dad would ever be able to take Shawn on. “And who do you think it was, Sherlock?”

“I know it was her piece of shit ex boyfriend. Liam.”

“Ex?” Alan asks with raised eyebrows, looking at you. “So the two of you are a thing now?” He looks to Shawn with a disgusted face. “You moved in pretty quick then, considering Liam and my daughter were still together on her birthday not to long ago.”

“Dad, Shawn and I were already friends,” not exactly a lie but not a whole truth “and then things changed. We found out we’re mates so-”

Alan holds his hand up and shakes his head. “Excuse me young lady? Mates? Werewolves don’t mate with humans. Now, it’s bad enough you’re dating him, or whatever this is, but mates?”

“Dad, I’m not joking,” you say and try to step out from behind Shawn but he won’t let you. “Myra sent for me on my birthday and said she had a vision that-”

“A vision!? You believe that old woman? Honey, don’t feel like you have to do anything just because someone says they saw it in a dream. If you don’t want to be with Shawn-”

“Alan. Let your daughter speak,” Shawn growls, yes, literally growls this out. He’s radiating heat, his eyes are bright golden amber and all you can do is lay your hand on his back to provide some sense of comfort and grounding lest he snap and attack your dad and his big mouth. Alan takes another step forward, starting in on how Shawn better watch his tone, that this is his house and he will not be ordered around by the likes of him. You can feel Shawn losing his temper. It’s like fire on your fingertips where your hand rests on Shawn’s back, the way he was feeling was unmistakable, it was murderous.

“Shawn,” you say softly just as your dad stops speaking. “Shawn, please. This is not the way to do this.” Your dad watches you as you carefully step around Shawn and place your hand on his chest, pushing him slightly and he walks back against the door to the basement. “Please don’t lose your temper over this.”

Shawn averts his gaze to you and you can see he’s pleading with you. It’s all right there on his face. He’s begging you to let him accept the challenge your dad was posing. You shake your head a little. He looks back and down at you again. Silently asking to at least rough your dad up a little. You shake your head again. Shawn slides his hand into your hair and leans down to kiss you hard, teeth clacking against yours. He’s biting you lip, licking into your mouth. It’s a rough, frustrated, annoyed, angry, possessive kiss.  You lay your hand on his face and pull back as your dad clears his throat.

You turn around and see that your mom has joined your dad where he’s stood across the kitchen. “Dad, what’s happened has happened. Shawn and I are mates.  I-” you stop because you’re not really sure how to phrase it to them that you’ve been turned. “I’ve accepted this, completely.”

“Dear, human’s can’t mate with werewolves. They just don’t reproduce. You’ll never have kids an-”

You cut your mom off as you say, “I’m not human.”

Alan looks like he saw a ghost. Grace looks like she has misheard you. It’s a clusterfuck of babbling as they both try to speak at once. Shawn’s arm slips around your waist and you lean back against him. Finally your mom gets a full sentence out. “I’m sorry, how is that?”

“I bit her. I’m an alpha like my father.”

“You WHAT?!” Alan starts for us and you pull away from Shawn to push him back, hand on his chest, he tumbles backward and you retract your hand quickly. You didn’t know you had that kind of strength. You only wanted him to stop before Shawn couldn’t lay his hands on him.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay dad?!” you stare at your dad laying sprawled out on the tiled floor. He sits up and rubs his head gingerly as your mom bends down to help him up. “I-I didn’t know that would happen.”

Alan sighs heavily. “I’m fine. Just a little surprised.”

“Honey, if Shawn is what you want, and if you’re a werewolf, then we’re just going to have to adjust. Right, Alan?” Grace says, rubbing his back. “There is nothing that can be done now. We can’t make you human again. We can’t take Shawn away from you, you aren’t a child with a toy.” She looks pointedly at Alan and he nods in solemn agreement.

“I’d like to take her home with me,” Shawn says quietly. “I’m afraid Liam may be watching your house and he might try to break in again.”

“Nothing was stolen?” Alan asks, looking at you for confirmation.

You nod. “That’s right. He didn’t come to take anything back. He came for me, we think. There was…dried…semen on my bed.”

“That little prick came into my fucking house and rubbed one out on your bed?!” Alan shouts, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He grips the countertop he’s leaned against and you think the wood trim on the side might pop off. “If that little fuck ever shows his face around here again I’ll-”

Shawn pulls you close to him. “I’ll take care of it. A wolf knows how to clean up it’s mess far better than a human.”

Grace’s eyes widen at this casual talk of a possible murder. “Shawn I know you care for our daughter but-”

“I’ll do what I have to. I will keep her safe no matter the cost.” Shawn kisses your head and you flush bright red. Your parents just nod, knowing that a werewolf’s word to his mate was a guarantee. It would be hard but they were going to have to let you go. You weren’t their innocent little girl anymore.

The two of you head back downstairs after a while and Shawn kisses under your jaw from behind you when you walk into your room. He pulls you against his chest and keeps kissing all along your neck. “Get some clothes, anything you need. I’ll see if we can use the guest house on the estate for a while.” He pushes you away playfully and you start grabbing some clothes and shoving them into your old backpack. “Don’t forget your homework. I’m sure you’re behind.”

“Yeah, I am. Also, sorry about my dad. I didn’t want it to go down like that.”

Shawn shrugs. “I didn’t kill him, so that’s a start.”

“Did you really mean what you said? You think Liam is watching the place?” You wind up your laptop charger and shove it in your bag. Shawn nods and you feel an unsettling sick in your stomach.

When you look back to question Shawn as to why he thought that, he grabs a pair of black lace panties out of your top dresser drawer and dangles them off one finger. “Pack these,” he says, voice low and commanding. “And these,” he grabs your pink and white/gold pairs. You flush and take them out of his hands to stuff in the outer pocket of your backpack.

“I’m almost ready to go,” you say and the last thing you grab is a pair of pajamas out of your laundry basket and Shawn wraps his arms around you, pulling you away. “Won’t need pajamas baby,” he kisses your neck and bites your earlobe. “I’ll make sure you’re plenty warm every night.”

_____________________

The next three weeks come and go so quick you barely remember them. You’re engrossed in catching up on your school work while Shawn goes over everything that’s going to be different since you’re a werewolf now. He says that because you’re an omega via the bite you’ll never have to worry about shifting because your body isn’t made for it the way his is. You won’t have to worry about your period anymore, but you will have to worry about heats. He says you’ll be expected to attend any pack events with him, and to show respect to the elders but you did that already. The two of you stay in the guest house, a small two bedroom cottage on the far edge of the Oak Grove estate. His parents agreeing that the two of you needed some privacy while you adjusted to being a werewolf.

It’s early on a Sunday evening when you start to feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden. Shawn had gone out to help his uncle with some furniture deliveries and you aren’t expecting him back any time soon. You lay your laptop on the pillows and lean back, head resting against the headboard of the large king size bed. The nausea lasts for maybe ten minutes, coming in waves that are so strong you think you might vomit if you moved an inch. Then you start to sweat. You’re freezing cold but the sweat is just rolling off your forehead and into your eyes. It’s all you can do just pull the blankets over you and not throw up.

Dizziness sets in after a while, your head swimming and everything becoming slightly blurry. You couldn’t even get up and cross the room to get your phone off the charger to call or text Shawn. You end up falling asleep, sticky, damp and miserable.

You wake up with a start, a hand on your face and you take a minute to focus on the person standing over you. It’s Myra. “Myra? Where’s Shawn?” your voice sounds hoarse like you had been screaming. Had you been screaming in your sleep? “I need Shawn.”

Myra pets your sweat soaked hair back and puts a rag on your head. “I’ve called him already. Do you know what is happening, dear?”

You shake your head. Your whole body hurts, aches all the way to the bones. It’s almost as bad as when you were turning and you think for a second maybe you hadn’t turned completely and this was phase two but just delayed somehow.

“You’re going into your first heat,” Myra says with a consoling smile. “Shawn will…take care of you…as soon as he’s here. I’ll make you some tea to help ease the aching in the meantime.”

“How did you know I was here?”

Myra stands to go to the door and says, “You were screaming, moaning, begging for Shawn. Any werewolf with ears could have heard you for a mile.”

You wish you had the gumption to feel embarrassed but you don’t.

The front door of the house slams shut, Myra jump a bit and you groan. You shift your legs a little to get comfortable and there is a deep ache between them.  “Shaaawwwnnnnn,” you moan, knowing it was him that entered the house. You could smell him, you nose filled with his spicy rich vanilla-y smell that just screamed Shawn. You watch the door, waiting for him to come in.

Myra goes out as Shawn pushes his way in, murmuring a quick apology to her. “Babe,” he says, out of breath as if he’d been running. “Oh babe,” he leans down, brushing hair off your forehead  and rubbing his hand up your leg. “I didn’t think you’d go into heat so soon.”

“I need you,” you mutter, tossing your head back and forth. Gods did you need him. His hand felt so good on your leg you thought you might cry. “Please, Shawn, please.”

Shawn stands up and pulls the blankets off of you. He makes quick work of your sleep pants, panties and shirt. You’re soaked, ready for him, ready to have him all over you because he felt so good. He tosses his shirt aside and gets his jeans and boxers off before he crawls over you and presses his forehead to yours. His eyes are dilated and bright gold, his breathing is uneven and heavy. You wrap your arms around his neck, pleading silently with him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, voice lower than usual and it makes your stomach tighten up.

You nod and he kisses down your jaw, your neck, mouth hovering over where he bit you. He rubs between your legs and you’re wet, ready, he slides one finger into you with ease. He adds another and you squirm, grinding your hips down to get more from him. It wasn’t enough, you needed more. Shawn licks over your bite scar and pulls his hand away from you so he can position himself against you. You can feel him, cock pressed against you, one movement away from giving you what desperately wanted.

“Shawn,” you mutter and he stills. “Please.”

Shawn braces himself on both arms, presses his face into your neck and arches his hips forward so he can slide into you. There’s little resistance on your part and you feel yourself stretch easily around him. You tilt your head back and let out a long low moan as he fills you up, inching in slowly until he bottoms out. He bites down on your shoulder and you grab his back, dragging your nails against his skin, leaving red marks across his shoulder blades. He pulls back, rolling his hips gently, pulling back just enough, not all the way, before sliding back in.

You grab his hair and bring his face away from your neck. “I love you,” you whisper and he kisses you, eyes locked with yours as he continues to rock against you. It feels amazing and you can’t ever remember being fucked like this. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was Shawn. Maybe you just never had really good sex before, but this was something else.

Shawn lays down against you, smothering you for a second as he rolls the two of you so he’s on the bottom. You shift yourself, not letting him slip out of you, so that you’re sitting on him. He holds your hips and you rest your hands on his chest. You rock your hips against him and lean forward so you can really ride him and he groans loudly. “Fuck….fuck babe,” he slides a hand up your chest and kneads your breast roughly. The motion makes you weak, body over sensitive from the heat, and your arms give out so you’re laying on his chest. He braces his feet on the bed and fucks up into you slowly.

He slides one hand into your hair and one between your bodies to rub your clit. You squirm and buck against him, his finger working furiously against you and you feel yourself starting to tense up. He pulls his hand away and rolls you under him once more. He kneels between your legs and pushes your legs up, fucking into you rougher now, hips snapping desperately against you. You grab the sheets, breath picking up, head swimming and you feel yourself coming and he doesn’t stop. He fucks you right through your orgasm, your mind going blank as you see stars, eyes squeezed shut and a loud moan falling from your lips. It’s only a second after you feel yourself starting to come down that Shawn leans forward and holds your hip, fingers digging into your skin. He’s coming hard, growling low in his chest, head bowed against you. You can see his hair is soaked with sweat and you grab a handful of it to bring him into a kiss.

The two of you lay in the messy bed, tangled together for a while before you start to feel the nausea and feverish sweat start to creepy across your chest and forehead once more. Shawn is ready to go, fucking you three more times until you can’t take anymore and you’re begging for the heat to stop. You’re both exhausted by the end of it. The last time being the slowest with Shawn spooned up behind you and holding your leg up slightly so he could go in deep. Every time felt amazing, no matter how exhausted you were.

Finally your heat ended. The feverish sweats stopped completely and the waves of nausea and dizziness disappear. You and Shawn start to fall asleep with the sheets tangled around your feet, pressed against each other and Shawn mumbles an, “I love you” into your shoulder.

_____________________

It’s a friday night, a few days after your first heat and you’re back home for a few days while Shawn’s parents renovate the guest house for the two of you to live in more permanently. You’re trying on a dress Karen brought over for you and Shawn’s announcement dinner tomorrow. It’s a knee length A line black dress with lace quarter sleeves and it fits near perfectly. The back is a little loose but you’re going to wear a shrug over it anyways because it was so cold out. You dig through your shoes in your closet, looking for the right ones to wear. Boots or flats? Heels or flats? Probably flats. You grab the shiny black pair and pull them out as a knock comes from your sliding glass door. Thinking it must be Shawn, you pull the curtain and then slide the blinds over. It’s not Shawn. It’s Liam.

Your heart drops into your stomach. You’re stunned silent, nerves getting the best of you and you start to shake. Liam just smiles as if he was seeing an old friend. It makes bile rise in your throat.

“Gonna let me in, babe?” he asks and you glance down to make sure the lock is clicked over and the security bar in the bottom of the track is in place. They’re both in a secure position. You back away and he puts his hand on the new glass door. “I just want to talk.” What a lie that was.

You look around your room, trying to remember where you laid your phone down. Liam slams his fist on the door and your heart races, pounding in your ears. Tears start falling and your chest feels tight. Your phone is on the desk and you grab it, fingers fumbling to get the call screen open to call Shawn. You were home alone and Liam made no indication that he was going to leave any time soon. He was yelling, banging on the door, trying to open it and calling you names.

“Yeah baby?” Shawn answers after two rings and you can’t talk you’re shaking so bad. “What’s going on? Baby? What’s that noise?” He can hear Liam yelling and pound on the door.

“L-Liam,” you choke out and you hear Shawn’s phone hit the ground or something. There’s silence from his end and you back up into your bedroom door. You reach back and turn the handle, eyes on Liam as he wraps his hand in his jacket, getting read to break the glass again. The guy had fucking snapped or something. This was not the Liam you knew.

You run up the stairs and into the kitchen to grab a knife. You grab the biggest one in the holder and head for the bathroom to hide. The sound of glass shattering in the basement comes sooner than you thought it would making you change course from the bathroom back to the kitchen to block the downstairs door before Liam could come up. You push a chair from the breakfast nook up under the handle of the basement door to at least delay him.

There is pounding on your front door and you jump and nearly puke because you’re so on edge. “Babe, it’s me! It’s Shawn!” You drop the knife and run for the front door, wrenching it open just to be enveloped in Shawn’s arms instantly. “I shouldn’t have left you, I should have stayed.” He kisses your head, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs and muttering, asking if you were hurt. You tell him no, but Liam was in the basement and he had gotten in. As if on cue, the basement door handle rattles viciously and then there is slamming. Liam breaks through, sending the chair across the tiled floor. You can see him from the entryway where you’re stood with Shawn but he hasn’t seen you yet.

“I’m going to kill him,” Shawn growls and pulls away from you, stalking across the living room and into the kitchen. You hear a loud “Who the fuck are you?” and then a crash followed by low growling from Shawn. You hurry to the kitchen doorway and see Liam grasping the counter, mouth bloody. The dishes set to dry on the counter behind him are all over the floor and in the sink from his impact. Shawn has a bloody lip as well, Liam must have swung first and caught him off guard.

“Little bitch, you think you can sick your little werewolf fuck boy on me?” Liam sneers and you cross your arms, shaking quelled slightly now that Shawn was there.You knew that no matter what Liam did, he couldn’t hurt you. Shawn would never let him.

Shawn flexes his hand and stares Liam down, “You don’t get to talk to her.”

Liam laughs mockingly and says, “I’ll talk to her all I want. What are you? Her fucking owner?”

Shawn steps forward, pulling his arm back and punching Liam in the jaw. There’s no time for him to retaliate as Shawn wraps his hand around his throat. “I’m her mate, asshole.” Liam lets out a sickening gurgle and grasps at Shawn’s arm for leverage. Shawn doesn’t let up, instead he forces him back into the counter, making Liam’s head dent the cabinet door above it. “Breaking into her house the first time was strike one,” he slams Liam’s head back and he goes limp, arms no longer struggling against Shawn’s grip. “You don’t get a strike two.”

You close your eyes and swallow thickly. You couldn’t watch Shawn like this. It was too much, too violent. “Shawn…” you whisper and he glances over at you, hand still around Liam’s throat. “Don’t kill him. It’ll be too much of a mess.”

Shawn growls and you know he won’t go against your wishes, no matter how badly he wanted to snap Liam’s neck and throw him aside like the piece of trash he was. He drops Liam and you open your eyes as he collapses to the floor, blood pooling slowly on the tile from the back of his head where it hit the cabinets. There’s a siren outside and you know your neighbor must have called the cops when your sliding door was broken in.

Shawn crosses the kitchen, wiping his hand on his jeans as he went. He cups your face and leans down to kiss you. “I don’t want him to come back for you, please just let me finish this. I’ll say it was self defense, it’s not entirely a lie.”

“No, Shawn,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around him. “I won’t let you kill him and have that on your conscience. I can’t have it on mine either.”

“In here,” a voice says and you look past Shawn too see Officer Jensen walking through your living room. He was a friend of your father’s, and you had known him for many years. “Are you two alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Shawn says with his arm around you, holding you close to him.

Officer Jensen takes a look at Liam and calls for an ambulance. The rest of the night is a blur of questions and paramedics and officers tromping through your house. You and Shawn sit on the sofa as they wheel Liam out and you holds Shawn’s hand tightly. Shawn pulls your hand up and kisses it, saying softly, “We should probably clean up.” You’re trying not to cry, trying not freak out because this was going to be a lot to explain to your parents but you would manage because you didn’t have to do it alone. You’d never be alone again. Not with Shawn by your side.

_____________________

The announcement ceremony for you and Shawn is huge. It’s a whole town function held at the city hall and you had no idea it was going to be such a big deal, but then again it wasn’t every day that the town alpha’s son was being announced as mated.

You and Shawn had gotten ready together and he could hardly keep his hands off of you. You'd swear he had never seen you naked before or something. By the time you were ready he was dressed in his nicest deep red button down and slacks and you opted for a second dress that Karen brought for you to try on. It fit far better than the black one had and it was longer, a light blush color with short sleeves. An hour later and you were on your way to the ceremony.

Shawn glances over at you in the car as you head toward the city hall. He’s smiling as he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “You look like a bride y'know? That dress is stunning.”

“Really? Even though it's not white?”

“Mmhmm. I love it. Too bad this isn't our wedding.”

You smile out the window, wondering if there was really a difference in being mated and married. As far as you can tell there isn't. “What if it was both? I mean, there's not a huge difference in being mates and being married right?”

“Well from a wolf standpoint there is. Being mates is deeper than just signing some papers and being legally wed.”

He's right. It is a deeper level of commitment than just some signed papers and legal garbage. Marriage is nice and all but the option of divorce is always there. Falling out of love is always a possibility. When you're mated there isn't that option. Mates are tied to each other through thick and thin. It's a connection so deep it's in your existential make up and you can't run away from it.

You look over as him as he turns the wheel with one hand, refusing to let go of your hand. He pulls into the parking lot at the back of the city hall and puts the Jeep into park before he finally let's go of you. “For my parents, for future legal reasons, we should get married today as well,” you suggest and watch him closely for a reaction.

He looks over, eyebrows raised. “I know Dad is able to officiate that as well. But are you sure? You don't want a big wedding with all the bells and whistles?”

“Nah, I was never one to want all that attention. This is enough.” You lean over and thread your fingers into his hair, turning him to look at you. “Are you nervous? You seem kind of out of it.”

“I'm incredibly nervous,” he smiles and lets out a half laugh. “I don't know why. I guess I just didn't think I'd ever be here doing this y'know.”

“Me neither, but we're here and we've been through much worse and far more nerve wracking things together.”

Shawn leans in and presses his lips to yours sweetly. “You're right. Let's get this over with.”

“Mmmhmm. Everyone is waiting.”

_____________________

One Month Later…

You start getting sick almost every morning for a week and Shawn becomes concerned. He takes off work to stay home with you while you do your online classes. Nausea hits you in waves throughout the days but you insist it’s just a stomach bug, that you would be better in a few more days.

A few more days pass and you aren’t any better, in fact it’s almost worse. Shawn takes you to the doctor, insisting that no stomach bug should last that long. The two of you sit in the exam room after the nurse had you pee in a cup and then took blood. You’re feeling lightheaded and dizzy, really out of sorts. Everything feels weird and swimmy, like you’ve just gotten off a rollercoaster and you need to puke. Shawn holds your hand, but he isn’t able to heal you. It’s strange, a wolf being so sick. You can’t help but wonder if it was a side effect of your transformation.

“Mrs. Mendes, how are you today?” the doctor looks at the sheet and then to you as he walks into the room.

It was strange hearing yourself called that. Only a month since the wedding and announcement ceremony and it was still incredibly fresh. You can’t help but smile though you feel horrible. “I’m not so great doctor,” you shake your head, putting your hand on your stomach. “I’ve been sick for over a week now with bouts of dizziness and exhaustion.”

“Mmhmm,” the doctor hums as he looks over your sheet. “Well, you’re not sick, not technically,” he chuckles softly. “You’re pregnant.”

Shawn looks like he’s going to faint. He goes paler than you’d ever seen him before. He steps away from you at the exam table and takes a seat in the guest chair in the small room. “You’re sure? I mean, the test couldn’t be a false positive?”

“Not likely. We tested your urine sample against multiple screenings and your symptoms are synonymous with first time early stage pregnancy. I can prescribe you something for the nausea if you like and recommend a prenatal vitamin.”

“Yes, please.” You look over at Shawn where he’s sitting with his head in his hands, silent during this entire interaction. “Could I have a moment alone with Shawn before we continue?” The doctor says of course and excuses himself to go write your prescription. “Shawn, are you alright?”

Shawn covers his mouth and looks up at you, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad,” he says, voice muffled by his hand. He drops his hand and lets out a half laugh half sob. He stands and pulls you into a hug, almost pulling you off the exam table. “This is the best day of my life.”

You wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. “I was worried you were freaking out over there.”

“I was,” he laughs, “because there’s a little baby inside you right now and it’s all ours!” He squats down and pushes his face into your stomach. “You’re all ours little cutie!”

You laugh loudly and watch as the doctor comes back in to see Shawn nuzzling your stomach. He smiles and talks to you and Shawn about some anti nausea medication and gives you some pamphlets for local werewolf pregnancy/birthing classes as well as recommendations for prenatal vitamins and other supplements you may need as an expecting mother.

_____________________

Six months later….

“Shawn, you can take a rest. My back isn’t hurting anymore.” You look over at Shawn on the bed and he slides his hand out from under your back where he was easing the muscle cramps you had been having lately. He rolls on his side to snuggle against you and lays his hand on your stomach.

“I still can’t believe it,” he mumbles, rubbing your stomach slowly. “Can’t believe you got pregnant during your first heat.”

You roll your eyes and laugh at him. “Hey, it’s your fault. You couldn’t stop fucking me.”

“Oh as if you didn’t need it,” Shawn quips and slides his hand up to massage your breasts. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it every single time.”

“Oh I did,” you smirk as you squirm under his touch. The bad thing about getting pregnant was how sensitive you became, particularly when Shawn touched you like this. Everytime he hand his hands on you, even just rubbing your back, you could feel yourself getting aroused. You’re not sure if it was a general pregnancy thing or if it was because you were a wolf an Shawn was your mate. Either way it was equal parts pleasing and annoying. “Shawnnnn,” you groan and he pulls his hand away from your chest and tilts your head to kiss you.

“Sorry, I forgot,” he smiles against your lips. His hand finds its way to your swollen stomach and begins to rub slow circles. “This is still just the best thing ever. I can’t believe I made this little guy with you.”

“Mmmhmm,” you put your hand over his and he stops rubbing for a second so he can pull his hand away and put it over yours instead. “He’s gonna grow up big and strong and loving just like his dad.” You kiss the side of Shawn’s head and he closes his eyes.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Shawn mumbles after a while, half asleep with his head on your  shoulder. “Can’t wait to hold him.”

“Me too…” you smile and the baby kicks against Shawn’s hand on your stomach, “Me too.”

_____________________

Four Months Later

You’re laying in bed with your little bundle of joy resting on your chest. He’s dressed in the little black and yellow moon and stars pajamas that Myra gave you as a present in the hospital. You pet back his dark hair and he yawn, nuzzling his face into your warm skin. You can’t believe he’s yours. Such a beautiful little baby, so healthy and happy. All yours.

“There you are,” Shawn smiles as he walks into the bedroom. He kicks his boots off by the door and peels his work shirt over his head leaving him in his white under shirt. “I should have known it was Kit’s nap time.”

“He tired himself out watching the ceiling fan in the living room while I cleaned up a bit. Then I fed him at lunchtime, but y’know, he wanted more.” You rub his back and he stretches his legs out. “It took two bottles plus a feeding until he was satisfied enough to stop fighting sleep.”

Shawn crawls onto the bed beside you and lays his hand on the baby’s back. “He sounds like me as a baby. My mom said she would have to bottle feed me a up to ten times a day on top of breast feeding when she could. How are you doing with that by the way?”

“Good. I’ve been pumping as much as possible when he’s not feeding. It’s never going to be enough and thankfully powder formula exists. He doesn’t like it as much, but he deals.”

“Let me hold him a while, you just rest,” Shawn says as he tenderly lifts the baby over. “Hey buddy, shh shh,” he murmurs, nosing against Kit’s sparse hair as he fusses from the transfer. “Don’t fuss, it’s just me.”

Kit settles down and grips at Shawn’s tee, little hands bunching up the fabric and pulling. “Have you noticed any wolf traits other than the big appetite?”

“Not yet, other than his hair but that’s not necessarily a wolf thing. We’ll have to see when his teeth start coming in. I hope he’s an alpha like me, but if he isn’t then that’s okay.”

You turn over on your side and yawn, the catching up with you. “He’ll be strong no matter what. Just like you.”

“Like me? No, like you. You’re far stronger than me.”

“How’s that?”

Shawn chuckles. “Honey, you survived the transformation of human to wolf, you carried and birthed a baby not long after that. I could never do that. I am in absolute awe of you every single day of my life and I am so lucky to have you as a mate.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and you press your face into the pillows. “You’re being soft. Shut up.”

He leans over and kisses your head. “I don’t care if I’m the softest alpha ever. I love you and I love being your mate.”

“I love you too.” Kit fusses, making a noise of annoyance at the sounds of your voices. “Looks like he loves us as well.”

“Mmm, a very loving family.”

“Not just a family. A pack.”

Shawn smiles big, hand on Kit’s back, he grabs your hand beside him on the bed and brings you hand up to kiss. “Our pack.”

The End.

_______________________________________________

Author Note:

Thank you to everyone who read Mated as a series when I first began writing and uploading it last year. 

Thank you to everyone who sent me messages and asks encouraging me to keep writing it though it was very different at the time. I’m so glad I could be one of the first people to introduce werewolf fics to this fandom and I’m so excited to see it has really taken off. 

Thank you to everyone who reblogged and continues to reblog this fic either as a series or as full fic. Thank you for sharing and helping me spread my work to wider audiences every day.

Please reblog and share this as much as you did the original posting of Mated. It means the world to me to have my work shared via reblogs and recommendations. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Note: I do not give permission for any of my works to be reposted with or without credit to me out side of this website. It may not be included in a collection or series of works on any other website. If you see this or any other works by me posted anywhere but here please let me know immediately. Thank you. 

[paulwalltran]

Dungeons and Dragons Loneliness

Another interview with lofi music. Today was a pretty shitty day, alot on my mind. Here to unload. 

Today’s mood: Fuck it all...

It’s a mad addiction, a horrendous one. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want to talk about. Or almost anything fantasy related. I’ve recently gotten a little closer with one of my co workers. Delerner Banks, everyone calls him Del. He’s always in the tunnel, and always brings warhammer books to read and do work (whatever it is he’s working on.) We talk about fantasy related things all the time, and sometimes we bounce ideas off each other, feeling out our thoughts of settings and lore. Talking to him about some fantasy before leaving work made me feel alot better. The loneliness inside has been eating at me.

I know it’s salt, I know its jealousy, that I’m mad at my friends. They been hanging out more without me, playing cards and shit. Its not a passion of mine, its fun sometimes, but its still not me. Its what they bond over, its what they do together, and that’s what theyre into. If I had to guess, they’re okay with Dungeons and Dragons, but even my best friend said that I take it too serious. Its fallen out of their favor, it eats up a lot of time, and they each have their version of what a fun campaign would be like. In me, I said to myself, “Fine, fuck it. I’ll have to assemble another crew to play with.” Tough situation then isn’t it? Wanting to play a social game that needs bodies, during an age where social gatherings are frowned upon, because they carry a potential to spread a virus... Still, this is what I want to do. I want a group of friends, who share the same passion I do. My current friends must think ill of me, they may just want to hang out. They think that if they come hang with me, I’ll want a game of DnD without a doubt. They just want to chill and kick it, they don’t want to roll dice. But ask me once and I’ll tell you yes twice, to playing DnD. 

I love it with all my heart, all of the contents and materials are here, ready to play. No extra investments, no money needed to be spent, we can get going off of nothing like we did back then. A table top roleplaying game, we started with cardboard and lego figures, and just two books to share. But there was fun to be had, and a few heated sessions. But fun it was, the more we played the deeper i grew fond of the game. I’m even willing to experiment with other systems if I have someone to guide me. With cards, you gotta constantly update your arsenal to keep up with the meta, and let’s be real, not playing anything remotely close to meta isn’t as fun. Different formats allow different decks, and to keep current you gotta keep up. I dont have the fundings for it, I dont have the luck. I would rather buy a module that’ll last for years, versus a pack of cards. I have two books that have skyrocketed in value, cards go up and down like stocks. But thats the appeal I suppose, I don’t care for it though.

Back to the thing at hand, I’m in their group chat as they make plans. I can’t be there for all that. But fuck it, that’s all Im going to say. Fuck it, on repeat, until its engraved into my head. Pride is getting the best of me, I refused to be denied again. If it’s not something they want to do, so be it, I need to look out for me in the end.  I must muster up the courage to start playing online again, the first one wasn’t bad, but it fell apart. I need to get the courage to be social, and get over the fear that everyone expects you to be a pro player. I’m scared going into this green still, roll20 isn’t my forte. But if I want to play DnD, this seems to be my only option. It may fulfill my wish, to find friends who are just as passionate as I. My other friends, they’re over on the other side. Its fine, it truly is, they have one another, and I need to be strong. I need to find the strength in this loneliness, even though its tearing me apart. My circle becomes smaller, thats just the way of the world. Adapt to survive, be formless like water...

Dungeons and Dragons, my greatest escape. I can be anybody, and do things I normally can’t. I can clobber up bad guys, indecent folk, and finesse my way out of punishment from the law. I can save a village, a town, a kingdom, when I can hardly save myself. I can fly, cast spells, break locks, imagination is my only limit. I can hoard and amass vast amounts of riches, I myself can even become a dragon. I don’t have to be me, although a bit of me resides in everyone I’ve made before. I can never truly separate myself, from those Ive breathed life into. For hours on end, I can go anywhere, do anything, I melt into the world thats placed before me.

 Because the reality is that I’m practically shit, and nobody. The world is fucked up and jacked up and spiraling down the drain. I’m mentally fucked and my physicality is pretty much the same. I’m stuck in place when the world is demanding me to change. I lost with no real direction. No map in hand, no guide, and I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know whether to trust the process or commit suicide. Im not sure where I’ll end up, if it’s good or bad. Im struggling, I’m suffering, and there seems to be no end. I could say I’m trying, but I would be lying, if I had to look at the brighter side. The positive things in life are so hard to identify. But my emotions are raw and hit hard, slamming against the walls in my skull. Demanding me to give them attention...and attention I give them, as they tear me up. Like being pulled at by the limbs, drawn and quartered is the method it seems like today. I was thinking that I couldn’t drink forever, my body would eventually reject. But what if I drank energy drinks on end, a heart attack to get me out of this place. I can down those all day long, so whats stopping me from taking that way out of it? Less grotesque and violent, it’ll probably be painful as hell. An organ seizing up, as the body ceases the function. I get said thinking about it sometimes, but one day, enough will be enough. But damn that lady...damn her for speaking those words... Tomorrow. If nothing is better by tomorrow, then do as you may. But sleep it off, tomorrow is another day. 

It’s not verbatim, but its the gist. Just wait for tomorrow, and hopefully things will change. The choice is still mine to make, and something in me pushes me forward, keeps me going on. Sometimes I think about who I’m leaving behind, and maybe how much it’ll hurt. The evil darkness inside me says that they’ll get over it, they have to, and time doesn’t wait. I won’t be immortalized, I’ll simply end up a statistic. That maybe itll be a few years the sadness remains fresh, but wounds always heal. Discrediting my actual existence, and any form of relations. Like I wouldn’t have made any actual impressions, people don’t weep for me now. People kind of forget I exist already, what makes me think they won’t after I’m gone? 

I think about my folks, my grandma, my girlfriend, my second family, and other close dear friends. I think about how many last will letters I would have to put out there, before I call for the curtains. Sometimes, I say I will start writing them, but they give me pause. I end up not wanting to leave this world, after pouring out my heart. Because I don’t want to leave any questions behind for people who matter, I want them to know how I felt before I passed. I want to leave with them apart of me, so they would never forget. 

Still it doesn’t change, shit is rough as of lately, work has been eating me up. I feel like Im never hundred percent, and me back on gaming is making it worst. I’ve gotten back onto Elder Scrolls Skyrim, its been my virtual version of DnD. Waiting for the Outer World Expansion, so I can get addicted to that again. All I want to do is play Dungeons and Dragons, the question is how do I make that into a living? I think being a Matthew Mercer is one in a million, I don’t think I’m that great. I’m willing to learn, grow, evolve because it is my passion, but I’m always scared of making mistakes. To be one of the greater Dungeon Masters, to be THE Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master, it may possibly be the dream. To eat, sleep, breathe, Dee en Dee. My obsession isn’t that crazy though, I’m still behind on the lore of creatures and settings, I haven’t studied at all. But with the right drive and motivation, I would, especially with something as real as a legit group.

Enthusiastic players, who show up every week, bi weekly, once every month even, to play this fantastic game. Group of chill folks who is willing to take the Dungeon Master Mantle with I get burned out and have the desire to be in the player seat. One of those is the driving force, they make me want to plan. They make me want to make the world, the style, everything in general better, with the constructive feedback. I mean it’s been so long as I was a player in a campaign until the end, I’m beginning to think paying for a Dungeon Master wouldn’t be so bad. Once a month? A couple of hours? I mean I’m thinking like seven USD per hour? Eight isn’t bad, but after that it becomes a questionable amount. It repeats in my head, “No DnD is better than Bad DnD”, this much is probably still true. I say still because I still might want at least one session with said game, so I can at least say it was the worst after having attempt it, rolling something. Ha ha, I kid myself, I’m lying because I know the rage would be all to real and caution is my game most of the time. But I mean, I just might have to start exploring the idea, I was definitely going to ask on FaceBook if any Roll20 games was recruiting a newbie. 

Alas, today won’t be the last time I speak on the matter, Dungeons and Dragons haunt me everyday. I stare at minis, I stare at the upcoming books and modules, and I watch youtube where they tell RPG Horror Stories, Its become a huge part of my life, such as dancing once was. It almost links right into my earliest talents...writing. I love to write, just like I’m doing now. Im fairly decent at the writing game if I must say. Hey, real life failed Bard here, I should make one who always ends up playing big bro, and end up being friendzoned by all his interests. Im short, so Halfling is very true. Am I charismatic? Who knows, I can’t say for sure. But yes, I feel like this is what I need, a solid weekly game, maybe once every two weeks, hell, once every month would still be great. Something to look forward to the very least, in this life of routine and mundane. Something to look forward to for me, something that’s my own. Something I don’t need my closer friends to be apart of, since they’re not interested anyhow. I’m really talking shit because I’m hella salty, but at least I’m being upfront. Get it all out now, before the typing is done. 

It’s been a productive session, I may have to attribute it to Lofi it seems. The Lofi Hip Hop Radio on YouTube, also found on Spotify. Some tracks still strike me deep in the chest, giving me horrible flash backs and feeling in my chest. Others keep me going, forward, almost propelling. I’m currently training myself to be accustomed to the sounds, because I at first was very scared. That it would just transport me to a dark place and keep me there. I’ve been trying to confront my feelings more with this music, I think I felt better after last session like this. The more I faced myself, the better I became. Yes, I most definitely referenced Persona 4, another amazing and loved title because of the message it portrays. I always wondered what my shadow self would look like, and what they would say. But eh another time, I’m about to start rambling again. I have to conclude here, before I get off topic.

Until next time Tumblr...

[heartedlystyled]

Abu's friend asked Abu to ask me if i would be comfortable to wear Hindu with a Burka.

I'm not huge on burkas because i get the got breath back and im already always hot anyways.

But his friend, Abu said that he found interesting that Hindu is a combination of my usual need for bling combined with Islam dress.

I said i would look for an appropriate outfit in Hindu wear to see if i would he comfortable in Hindu wear...

Its the land of the free, I can wear what i want...

Then we can across the girl on the left and he said "you already kind of dress that way anyways and your daughter, too!"

And i do... In NYC we had friends that were India Hindu, Americans, US military and we played with their kids... And i remember the grandma always seemed to open the door and she always wore the red dot on her forehead. She would stab it to make it upraised with a little needle and she would re tattoo it like every week or So...

It looked like a felt dot glued securely to her forehead.

And she often wore pink and green with gold sequin trim And she was always sewing.

So somehow as an adult, i began dressing my infant daughter that way as i always wore pants or ankle length dresses/skirts... Younger i would wear above the knee with panty hose... But longer meant more freedom like no pantyhose or having to shave above the mid calf... Just in case...

With my infant i would put a cute dress on her with jeans because she would get cold... Cause she couldn't keep socks on and the jeans would cover her feet...

Then as she got older wanting her comfortable to play like a boy but in a dress had me to put leggings on her...

Then for me cause i got excessively fat, I didn't feel comfortable in a shorter dress or skirt... So i also wear pants.

But I do wear spaghetti straps or strapless... Because i like it. It still covers my books so..

And I can understand going to the movies with Abu and his single friend and his friend asking me to wear a bit more than normal...

Its not against me at all.., its about respecting his friend Abu... Like he isn't all trying to be looking at me because hes just sitting and zoning into space... Or because he is looking at me and talking...

Like to go on double dates or in a group and the girls have to wear a certain way... I don't mind to change it up a little so they feel more comfortable... Im not afraid of being shunned.. Abu will ditch them in the parking lot.

Its about supporting a culture, friendship and family.

So if i wear a zebra print burka with pink highlights... Its not the same as Islam dress.. Yet... I'm still making an effort to appease a religious belief that i don't necessarily agree with...

That said I'm not into a burka... But something similar that's sheerer so i sont get too hot... Something similar to what some Hindu wear for special ceremonies.

Growing up in a melting pot of Earth... In NYC we spent A lot of nights sleeping in the Hindu's living room floor in piles of pillows and blankets and pizza. Chips and dip and soda, veggie plate me and gramma shared and the boys had to eat one of...

And we would watch 1 American movie like Ghost Busters or whatever was new and all the Hindu/India movies we wanted. A

Often times they weren't subtitled or in English. But we would watch and the gramma or the dad (they didn't have a nom either) would explain what was happening... A lot of times the boys would go out with my brothers and i would stay inside with the gramma and watch movies and ask her what they said, why their faces changed

Because the boys would understand the scene and they would make part of the movie themselves, like the TV extended to the living room floor and they would pantomime and act out and joke around about what they would do if they were there in the movie scene.

Usually I just watched... And handed supplies... The back drop wall flower watching the people I loved changing the movie scene they would want to have included in the movie each time we watched it...

I loved it

But i also wanted to know what we didn't see. What we missed by living. I wanted to see what was on the other side of the screen that wasn't paid attention to on those fun nights.

Gramma had difficulty with English and expression and sometimes she got embarrassed if it was a romantic scene... So i would go to the TV and point to the people and tell her what i thought they were doing in each scene.

So essentially while my own mother had been killed in front of me and all i could remember of her existence was blood splashing on the brown living room curtains...

This kind Hindu old lady without a daughter in law of her own that died in childbirth, delivering at home and only had grandsons... Taught me about life, relationships, life events, life expectations and expectancy.

I would skip school a lot to go hang out with her... Just not even go. She would open the door to let the boys out and see me and ask "school?" And i would shake my head no "not today"

Eventually my dad asked me why i hadn't been and told them i had to go to school... I would just sit outside her door all day until she went to laundry after lunch and thn i would follow her around the laundry mat downstairs in our apartment building.

So then she got to,walking us all to school... But she said it took too long,to,return home So she would ride her bike in the afternoon, tie it up to the bike rack and then walk us home... In the morning she would walk us to school and she would ride her bike home.

In the 4th grade my class had a window she would pass by to go to the bike rack and i would stand up and wait to see her go by.

She changed. She became leaner and softer and happier. She would let her hair down when she rode by on her bike. Literally letting it flow down behind her, for like miles... Then she would pin it right back up in a Chinese pin she called it.

She taught me about life. About living. And about surviving when even you yourself have no reason for continuing.

And although I was breaking the rules and she knew... She wouldn't let me in the house as she promised but if i helped her fold the laundry as she directed and helped her to twke them from rhe cart and hand the baskets to her frim the doorway she would tell me "you help me, i help you. Here is food" and she would give me lunch and a drink. And she would sometimes sit in the hallway floor with me and talk to me about the movie we watched AFTER school was let over and the boys were home. As my dad had said i could.

To me she wasn't an old lady with a red dot and Hindu clothing.

She was my very dear friend. Very close to my heart. To me, She had no age. She was as young as me, sometimes even younger but smarter. She told me all kinds of stories about her life in India, her son's life... All her children, her husband.

For me i was always in awe, mouth dropped at her tales, they were so beautiful and made her face change dramatically with her huge smiles or her eyes turning round and filling with tears...

Remember how i wrote she had a red dot that looked like felt glued down?

It was

That's exactly what it was.

But one summer it kept falling off. The summer after 3rd grade. The boys would be loud so she would say let's to go outside in the hall and talk.

And i had already caused a huge thing at school, predicting my friend Rose's death and having PTSD, having my 3rd grade teacher arrested as she was from China and would hit us with rulers and make us kneel in rice and peas (she killed herself in prison, she had a 2 year sentence) and so me hanging out with a Hindu lady... It was another story, another event for my file.

I remember a rather large black man would sit around the corner and listen. But she would say "he is spy, i cannot continue talking. It is not Chinese. It is not bad. I di nit want to go in But i do not feel comfortable. You tell me now about you"

"No way! I hate this shit!" So i confronted him. Over and over. Until finally she giggled and told me "invite him to conversate. Tell him sit in floor, like man But be handsome. But not too sexy no no no. He probably married anyway and I'm too old. But please hurry. I'm i get nervous"

"Oh please! Don't tell me! You're too old! You already have kids! You can't date!" I said veey loudly as i walked to the corner "up get -- HEY GET BACK HERE!!! SHE WANTS YOU TO SIT AND CONVERSATE!! don't be a dummy come on" i caught him nearmy running to,the staircase.

"Do you know how old i am? I'm nearly 40! You can't talk to me like that!"

"I can. I just did. Now please sit. Would you like something to drink? I can get you some kool-aid"

"What's she drinking?"

"Its gin"

"I would like some, too"

"What's gin?"

"Just go"

Finally i found what i knew gin was and i handed him a deck of cards.

I learned her tricks... When she's annoyed or uncomfortable or suspicious, she flirts. She acts like he's all over her and she's all flat drunk out... Y'all have seen me do them. The unlucky fall for them.

But he didn't and she was drinking water.

And he told her my story. The stories i hid. The stories i wish never happened. The stories i forbid to be spoken around me.

And i tuned my back to,them so they could not see me,cry or push my migraines away. And it continued for days. And she ran out of tissues and i had to use toilet paper for my nose.

Then her red dot, the eye of the God ran began to fall off her face, everyday. She got new glue. Stronger glue. And it will still fall.

So shr asked him "what is this? Why this fall?"

He said "if you ask me, She loves you and now you know you know what love is and you don't need that to protect you anymore"

"It is not to protect but to see"

"To look for love that i know about you Hindu. That is all you speak To her about. Its love. That i do know and now you know her pain and how much she needs you. You understand --- is that all you do us cry?"

"She speaks"

"You know what i want you to do is get that tattooed but in blue. Next time I come to see you, I'll bring a book i have been studying and i will show you, its perfectly acceptable to get a tattoo of it on your face,but an any color. Because you know why you identify eith her -- i mean why you are both friends with each other, is because you are both sad"

"She sad. I'm sad. So now I'm friends? With her, a small child? I am odd duck"

"Now now don't you smile, Sabrina don't you laugh at the old lady!"

"Shes funny! She's not ducking she's brave! And she's small not odd and she's sweet and even,you like her! You tell her to,get tattoo! You're strange if at all!" I blurted out... The first time I talked in weeks, it felt... In reality only about 5 days.

And so long conversations short... She used a blue pen to draw a star... As he said she was my star, my human North star, to help me find the light in life and she had came to me when my life was most darkest And i was extremely suicidal and had been caught trying to drown myself like umpteen times... Cause i wanted to die outside because it felt better than dying inside all stuffy and around people like Denise. And i wanted to drown in the river but someone always saw me. 8 years old and all... I had my desires in how to die. I wasn't stupid or mindless.

He said she had been given red as her felt dot, from a priest, because she had felt love. Still knew love, still wanted love and Still believed in it and Still looked for it.

But he said that sometimes the dot could change. It could change shapes, sizes and colors. And he said if her brain leaked out, it didn't leak love, it leaked sadness. So thus her permanent eye of ra should be blue. A light color blue not too dark because she allowed light and happiness to shine thru the tears of her world.

And that was what she had taught me... Once I learned the videos then I would interact with the TV... And the boys would watch and then we would all play along with what was on the either side of the screen and i taught them what i had learned from Granny Hindu.

She would watch us and cry. The dad would watch in shock and awe as his sons were finally being taught their native tounge and important parts of the movie and ceremonies. Sometimes he would cry.

Eventually he began wearing his Hindu traditional wear and they would get up and dance the traditional Hindu dance and teach us while we the the pillows and blankets up on the couch. And we would laugh

Of course my back would hurt easily and the boys, because of the dad, all eventually would pick me up and dance with me like i was a doll, then supporting my small amount of bony weight with their arms.

And the dad would do the granny..,her feet dangling at his knees would make me,laugh so heartily!!

The boys wouldn't pick me up so high... Mostly I would lean on their shoulders or elbows...

And so granny settled on blood sweat and tears as she realized it wasn't happiness she knew best but sadness.

And she got a light blue tear in the middle of her forehead, tattooed. And she would wear a jewel over it, shaped like a tear, as beautiful as ever. But sometimes she wore a larger than in the past, red felt circle over it... "I looked for love and i found it and it hid all my tears"

So of course I would dress myself and child subconsciously in Hindu like garb. And of course I would wear it when out with people of Islamic culture.

The tattoo shop which had done her light blue tear, eye of Earth had also shown hwr how to hand poke tattoos as is conventional in her home country of India. Although she had her ra in a professional tattoo gun.

The government spy man had arranged it for her. He also came to our weekend slumber parties, some times falling asleep after a long hard work day on the couch like a child and we would give him a blanket we ha from out massive pile and cover him. I would say "heres you a blankey" and usually he would take the corner with his massive black hand or sometimes just sigh, inhale nd exhale deeply. Usually me and the boys took turns to cover him.

Little children covering an over 6 foot tall almost 40 year old man.... Ages from 5 to 10...

Because that is what love is.

Sometimes he would start breakfast... After the first dozen times escaping in the night after catching up with his zzz's and we told,him if he was gonna,crash the slumber party with his big body probably breaking the couch with all his long bones and muscles then he needed to crash all the way and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Cause that was the best and breakfast in bed... Or the pile of blankets an sheets nd pillows like a nest for baby birds as we called it. That was the best part. After waking up woth friends we loved and understood when we felt most misunderstood in the world. Them being Hindu with a gramma with a red dot the tattoo in the middle of her forehead totally misunderstood was she a witch? Crazy? How old was she? 40? 100? And then us, watching our mother murdered, barely being able to remember her or just being able to,watch the blood spray md wonder and,cry where was our lovely mother? And the puking. The days and night of puking and puking from fear, disgust, worry and sadness. And still death seemed to follow us everywhere no matter how we predicted it or didn't or wanted it or didn't. Cared or didn't. Prayed or didn't. It was just there. Always there.

And so he would stay... Did we find him in granny bed above the covers cuddling fully clothed once or twice? Yea. And we decided it was better than Saturday morning cartoons and so we all silently munched cereal and watched them, sitting in her bedroom floor doorway... Until we feared they were dead and then I would whisper hey and he would jump awake from laying on her shoulder or sometimes boob/rib or gramma Hindu would slowly open her eyes and be in her little dreamlike state and the first few times was innocent "hey there's a man in your bed. That isn't s pillow laying on you" we would whisper

But there was that one time... That one time that she fully seduced him like the prowling cougar she is and it was a whole different Saturday morning when she clutched the blanket to,her chest and said "YOU KIDS GET OUT!!"

And I not understanding cried at her "Why are you acting Chinese!?!?! I'm not getting out until you explain!!!"

So i had to be explained that he was in his boxers and had been under the covers and they didn't want all the kids to see their privacy

And i said "Fine! I'll get out! But that's gross!!!"

Because at 8 thats what i believed.

"And you should have made breakfast or i wouldn't had known!!" And i spun on my heel and threw my hair in his face.

And Alex asked me "what's going on? I mean with them?"

"I can't talk about it" heavy slumped shoulders, neck aching "let's just watch TV that's better" he bugged on and on until i covered my head to avoid him and fall back asleep

But when i woke he asked again and i told him "they had sex"

And he called me a liar and herded all the boys to go ask.

And then they called me back to,the room so we could get an explanation

And I said "i don't want to hear all this shit. I know the birds and the bees. In and out it goes"

But he tried to talk to us about love...

But Alex threw up..

Because our mother's murderer whom used a chainsaw to her neck while we were all assembled to watch... Then said that exact same thing and had added "want to watch" as he raped our mom's nearly decapitated body.

He was right. Sadness would always exist because of love.

Well us kids didn't care about two consenting adults with their heads fully attached.. Unfortunately her son did and he was really an ass hole. Only caring about himself and his feelings, then put in for a transfer to move across country to get his 60 year old cougar momma away from a early 40 year old kitten...

Destroying his son's lives in the process... And ours... And even his own happiness

Instead of allowing his mother freedom to love.

But before all this the young thug kitten only looking for one thing So said the father, an alley cat, he was allowed gramma Hindu to hand poke a tattoo on his right toe. An S. With an astrick just tucked inside the bottom tail.

"Samaria"

That was Grandma Hindus name.

She gave herself the one i drew above... An S for Sabrina for helping her find Samaria again And of course the S for herself as well.. And two stars... One for the one we could see in her in the bottom and the other to honor the stars she could see... And she told me one for me and one for her for our friendship. And the F next to Because they were so most important to her... The F did get bigger over time and eventually became the same,size as the S as her family evolved and changed...

I suppose the story is true. She handpoked white in the "standing leg" of the F to represent the Father, her son of the family in anger because of the move.

She could have stabbed him to death. I would not had blamed her.

[mama-m1na]

Welcome to the Game: Chapter 1

                                                      ~~~I~~~

The ravenette sighed as she rolled out of bed to turn off her alarm.

It was hard for her to breath as her nose was stuffed, her body was hurting all over, and it hurt to move her mouth because her lips her so dry.

Throwing her blankets to the side, the seventeen-year-old stood up with difficulty as pain rang out in her knee.

Limping over to her closet, the female picked out an outfit for the day before going into her bathroom.

After washing her face, brushing her teeth, getting dressed, and taking care of the raven locks that fell to her butt, the teen walked downstairs to grab an already prepared breakfast made by her grandmother as she headed to the table by her kitchen window.

She spent fifteen minutes eating while watching Youtube videos as the local news played in the living room.

“Now, as of last night it appears that someone has broken out of a prison located in San Diego and police are saying they have no clue who it was. Their records have been completely wiped from the system; however, the guards there all remember his face,” the news anchor spoke causing the breath of the ravenette to hitch as her eyes widened and slowly panned up to the television, “Police are saying that the inmate was not that dangerous but to please keep an eye out for a male who is about six feet tall, with a lean build, with pale skin, shoulder length brown hair, looking to be about in his early twenties.”

Just as the story changed an older Filipino woman walked into the living room to take a seat while the ravenette placed her plate by the sink before rushing back up to the safety of her room.

‘There’s no way it could be him,’ she thought, scratching at her neck while looking outside her window before closing the blinds, ‘Even if it was him, there’s no way I’d ever see him again. I made sure of that.’

Ting!

The text tone cause the girl to jump as she shakily reached out for her phone, scared to find something linking back to the incident she’d so desperately tried to forget only to sigh in relief when she saw a text from her friend, Lyle.

“I woke up late,” it read, as her still shaky hands gripped onto her phone, “So I’m going to get there a bit late.”

“No problem, Hun,” she replied with a smile on her face, “See you when you get here and don’t do anything illegal.”

“Who do you take me for? Kerstin?” came the immediate reply causing the ravenette to snort as she curled into herself, almost forgetting the troubling news she had seen mere minutes ago.

About twenty minutes later another text alert told the ravenette that her friend had arrived at her house to take her to school.

“Sorry for having you do this everyday, Lyle,” the teen sighed as she slipped into the passenger seat of her friend’s car, keeping her stuff on the floor, “I’m getting the Kia when my mom goes to Washington, but until then my license is basically useless unless I’m driving my grandma somewhere with her car to keep my skills there.”

“I honestly don’t care,” the male snapped as he brushed his hair out of his face before glaring at the ravenette, “Where the fuck is your jacket? It’s freezing.”

“It’s only…” the teen pulled out her phone to check the weather before continuing, “66 degrees. I’ll be fine.”

The male only glared before opening his door and stepping outside.

“What are y-” “Stay the fuck there,” he barked, as he went to the trunk and came back with his letterman jacket, throwing it at the female’s face before getting back in the car.

“The fuck?”

“Put it on, you can’t afford to get sick this week if you have a competition,” he replied, finally beginning the drive to school.

“I think they’ll be fine, I won’t be missed- ow!” the ravenette’s head was thrown forward as the male smacked her.

“Rhamina,” he hissed, keeping his eyes on the road, “Do I have to take you to a therapist?”

“You know, I’m going to miss borrowing this,” the female chirped as she slipped on the jacket stereotypically bestowed upon jocks, “but at the same time I can’t wait till mine is done!”

“Why would you miss borrowing it?” Lyle replied, “To make me suffer in the cold without it?”

“You have extra jackets, eat my ass,” Rhamina huffed before buttoning the snaps on the slightly larger jacket, “No, it just feels like you’re always there giving me a hug… It’s comforting.”

“Wow, I really do have to take you to a therapist, don’t I?” the male asked earning a smack on the shoulder.

“Lyle!” the female whined with a pout, “You always do this when I try to be genuine. You know emotions are weird for me.”

“I can always kill him you know.”

“You say that but I actually know people that will,” the ravenette muttered under her breath as she turtled into the wool and leather jacket.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” the female sang with a giggle before scrolling through tumblr on her phone.

The rest of the drive was filled with small banter between the two before they eventually pulled into the male’s parking spot.

“I don’t know why the janitors don’t ever open these gates,” huffed the male as the pair stood locked out of the gates of the performing arts hallway.

Rhamina placed her hands on the gate’s handle just as a gust of wind blew by while the golden flecks in her brown irises made themselves prominent, just for a split second, and when she pulled back the gate opened, no longer locked.

“What the fuck? How the hell do you always do this?” Lyle asked, standing still in shock, “I know it was actually locked this time.”

“And like every time I’ve told you before it was magic, Lyle,” the ravenette said with a small smile, “When are you going to believe me?”

“I am a legitimate witch afterall,” she continued after placing a trash can to make sure the gate stayed open.

The two then walked in before taking a seat at the random lunch table left in front of the bandroom, talking or in Lyle’s case, finishing homework.

“Dude, I for sure failed my AP Gov exam!” whined Rhamina as she leaned on the male’s shoulder, “There goes my 4.28.”

“Shut up, I’m sure you did fine,” the brunet said before lifting up one of his papers, “now help me with this.”

The brown irises of the female scanned the piece of math homework, similar to the paper she had finished in class the previous day.

“Ah, you did the same thing I did,” she said noticing the mistake in his work, “When you factor out the rad. 5, this part becomes a 1, so that leaves 6+1 in the parentheses and 10 on the outside. When you multiply that, it becomes 70.”

“Thanks,” the male nodded, understanding his mistake and fixing his work.

“You know, it makes me really happy to see you caring about your future and grades,” Rhamina spoke with a smile, “It really is a turn around from freshman year. I’m proud.”

“Same goes for you. You actually give a shit about your life now and you act proud of yourself.”

“Lyle, you’re going to make me cry,” the ravenette squeaked with a hand over her heart, “That is one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me!”

“I remember when I first started trying to talk to you, you would threaten to deck me in the face,” she continued, reminiscing about their first year of high school.

“And you would annoyingly keep coming back no matter what threat I threw at you,” he huffed with a smirk.

“Yeah… I am annoying aren’t I?” she chuckled as a silhouette came into view, “When and why did you start tolerating me exactly?”

“I don’t know, why did you start talking to me?” he asked, stopping his work to look down at the girl with curiosity.

“Because you had just moved here and everyone already made assumptions about you,” she explained with a frown, “They said you had frequently gotten into fights and that you weren’t safe to be around.”

“So you started talking to me for the thrill?” the brunet asked with a raised brow.

“I started talking to you because those rumors pissed me off,” the ravenette huffed, “These trash people were judging you based on rumors without getting to know you… they were judging you for just… Existing.”

The male just sat in awe at his friend’s explanation, never knowing why the extremely quirky and anxious female had started coming up to him, the delinquent from another state, in the first place.

“Plus, I know you don’t believe in this stuff but, I heard you.”

“What?”

“That first time I walked passed you and stopped for a few moments, the first time you told me to ‘screw off’ or you’d ‘make me regret it’. I heard your soul saying that you didn’t want the image you had, you didn’t want the cards you were dealt, and to be honest I was just starting my downward spiral so I didn’t fully understand, I still don’t because I’m not you, but I couldn’t help but empathize,” Rhamina spoke, fumbling in a few places as she tried to find the right words, “I didn’t want anyone to suffer in anyway similar to what I was going through, not feeling worth it, not feeling as if they had anyone to just… listen, at least. I didn’t, and I still don’t, wish true loneliness upon anyone.”

“I’m sorry, you probably think that’s weird right?” Rhamina chuckled, after realizing she was going off on a tangent again, “I just wanted to be your friend is all. I just collect weirdos, I guess.”

“You really do, it’s called being in band,” a male spoke before sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Good morning, Son,” Rhamina spoke before stretching out her back, releasing a few squeaks in the process.

“Good morning, Mother,” the boy spoke as a blonde sophomore arrived as well, “So did you see the news this morning?”

“About what?” the ravenette asked, silently praying that it wasn’t about what she thought it was.

“The prisoner escaping from prison in San Diego,” the sophomore explained, “apparently they were one of the higher security prisoners but police can’t find any of their records.”

“Oh, yeah,” the female chuckled nervously as she leaned forward on her left elbow, her nails just brushing the side of her neck, “You better not be walking home by yourself, Lee.”

“Wait, the fuck?” Lyle asked as he looked up once again from his paper, “Someone broke out of a San Diego prison? They could be anywhere by now.”

“That’s why it’s so concerning,” Lee replied, “It doesn’t help that San Diego in itself can be really shady.”

“Yeah, have you seen Convoy Street after sundown?” Rhamina chuckled as she began to scratch at her neck once again, “But we should be fine, nothing ever happens in Temecula.”

“Rhamina, for someone with a 4.28 GPA you sure are stupid,” Lyle huffed as he turned to the seventeen-year-old, “Temecula is a quiet, boring, little town only known for making wine. It would be the perfect place to hide, especially since we’re so close to San Diego… You’re taking the bus home today right?”

“Yeah, what does that have to do with anything though?” Rhamina asked as she checked her nails, noting that she’d have to cut them within the next few days.

“How far is your house from the bus stop?”

“Lyle, it’s only two streets away, I’ll be fine,” the ravenette groaned, “Plus you have practice today.”

“You say that, but watch you get kidnapped or some shit,” the male scoffed causing Lee’s eyes to widen as he met glances with the blonde next to him.

“Hey, Lyle, can we talk to you real quick?” the blonde female asked.

“In private?” Lee added, causing the ravenette to stand.

“I was just about to use the bathroom so go for it,” Rhamina shrugged as she made her way down the hall.

Once she was out of sight, Lyle turned to the two sophomores and asked, “What did you want, Jamie?”

“You can’t bring up kidnapping around Mina, like at all,” Jamie said with her arms in an ‘X’ in front of her body.

“Why? She jokes about it all the time?” Lyle asked with a raised brow.

“Has she actually used the word ‘kidnap’ or has she said ‘surprise adoption’?” Lee asked, “There is a huge difference and as to why we can’t say it… I’m not surprised that you don’t know, you just came here four years ago after all.”

“Oh yeah, he doesn’t know!” Jamie realized which took away some of her surprise at the fact that one of the ravenette’s closest friends would say something like that.

“I don’t know what? Can you guys just stop being dodgy?” the brunet scoffed with annoyance written all over his face, though he couldn’t stop his rate rate from accelerating slightly.

“You see when Mina was in sixth grade she went missing,” Jamie explained in a hushed voice, leaning in so the male could hear her easier.

“Yeah, the last place she was known to be at the park near her house, she was supposed to be hanging out with some friends,” Lee added, “A week later the police found her in some guy’s basement in Corona. When police found her, she wasn’t like physically abused or anything but she was really anxious and on edge.”

“They caught the guy that did it as he was coming into the house so, yeah,” Jamie finished.

Lyle was speechless for a few moments but thought back to their previous conversation.

“Do you know which prison the guy is in?” he asked as others started arriving.

“She didn’t tell us that.”

“Guys, why are you talking about this?” a shorter female with dark braids asked as she sat down, looking around for the ravenette, “You know we can’t.”

“We needed to explain to Lyle!” Jamie defended, “He didn’t know and could have accidentally said something to trigger her!”

“No offense, Lyle,” the blond said, quickly realizing what she said could have been taken the wrong way.

“I can understand why she hasn’t told you though,” the Mexican spoke as she took a seat, “I don’t even want to imagine how traumatic that was.”

“What are we talking about?” Rhamina asked as she popped up from around a corner near the table.

“Mina, where the fuck did you come from?!” the darkette exclaimed in surprise.

“The restrooms I normally use are still locked so I used the ones near the gym,” the ravenette explained as she took her seat, “But what were we talking about.”

“Uh, how Eli was being gay in third period yesterday,” Jamie spoke earning a frown from the senior female.

“How about we don’t?” she said as the younger students laughed.

After about five more minutes of conversation, Rhamina turned to Lyle and asked, “Hey, you good?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he spoke being jolted out of his thoughts, “What do you want?”

“Robert just did something retarded again and you didn’t yell at him, what’s up?” the ravenette asked while looking up at her friend.

“I said that I’m fine,” the boy huffed earning a small glare from Rhamina as a cold gust of wind blew past.

“Do you want your jacket back?” she asked while wrapping her arms around the brunet’s arm.

“No, you can keep it for now,” Lyle sighed as he patted the female on the head with his free hand.

When the bell rang the pair walked together until Rhamina came to her classroom and they parted with a quick hug.

“So, Rhamina, how’re you and the boyfriend?” asked the teacher sitting at his table in front of the ravenette’s desk.

“Huh? I don’t have a boyfriend,” the female replied as she set down her things.

“Then who’s that boy that drops you off in the morning? The one who’s jacket that you’re wearing?” the Ap Government teacher questioned.

“Lyle?” Rhamina asked glancing down at the oversized jacket, “We’re not dating, just really close friends is all. No one really sees me that way.”

The teacher only gave a single raised brow and a look that read, ‘I don’t believe you,’ before greeting other students as they walked in the classroom.

When the ravenette’s sibling walked into the room just as the bell rang the male teacher looked up and asked, “Kerstin, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Shit, am I in trouble?” the darkette asked as Rhamina and their seat mate deadpanned at their friend’s reply to a teacher.

“No, I just need to ask you something real quick,” Mr. Slow said as he opened the door to the pod, a small room connecting four of the classrooms in a wing.

Once the door closed, the teacher sighed before saying, “I know it’s inappropriate of me to ask this as a teacher, but as a bystander this is getting pretty confusing.”

At this point Kerstin was feeling pretty uncomfortable and getting extremely worried.

‘What did he find out?’ she thought, ‘Was it the vape? Or the weed? Please don’t let it be the weed.’

“Is Rhamina really not dating that boy?” the male asked after taking a deep breath, “Because the staff has been seeing them hang out together since their freshman years but there’s a debate over whether they are a thing or not.”

“Ah, well, they’re not,” Kerstin sighed in relief, “I can see where you get confused though.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Slow replied, “I can’t believe they actually aren’t dating they act like a couple.”

“I know!” the teen exclaimed, “They do couple shit all the time and it’s obvious that they like each other but neither of them say shit. Mina is just too oblivious to see it and Lyle is a tsundere piece of shit.”

“Well, thank you for the clarification, Kerstin,” the teacher sighed, “I’m going to be frustrated about this for a while.”

“I’ve had to deal with them acting like this four four years, Mr. Slow,” Kerstin replied, “You don’t know my pain.”

When the darkette returned to her seat, Rhamina turned around and asked, “What did Mr. Slow want?”

“Nothing, we were just talking about how I need to stop being late,” the Filipino girl shrugged before her eyebrow twitched at seeing the brunet’s jacket on her sister.

When lunch came around, Rhamina emerged from the band room with her lunch to see Lyle waiting at the lunch table.

With a smile she tossed the male’s jacket back to him before sitting next to him.

“Did you cut class to get here this early?” she asked while opening her lunch box.

“Just the last five minutes,” he replied, “and you took forever to get out.”

“Well, I was being productive,” Rhamina huffed rolling her shoulders, “Conducting is hard when you don’t stretch.”

“Mina, scoot,” a shorter Filipino female said as she arrived bearing a hot pocket.

“Chloe, there’s literally a free seat right across from me,” the ravenette replied.

“But G-Lo’s stuff is here.”

“Move your feet you lose your seat.”

“...Okay.”

 The day passed painfully slow for the ravenette and when it finally ended she slipped in her right airpod to listen to her usual playlist as she sat in the second row of her bus.

As soon as the vehicle started a text notification appeared on the screen of her phone.

Seeing it was from Lyle, Rhamina tapped on it and read, “Be careful going home today.”

She only scoffed with a small smile and shot a text back, telling the male to focus on practice before the coach made him do extra PT.

She received a middle finger emoji in response which made her chuckle before returning to scrolling on her tumblr.

The bus ride almost lulled the ravenette to sleep; however, she willed herself to stay up due to her massive distrust of all the other students on the same bus route as her.

A few weeks prior, the rowdy, mostly freshmen boys, had caused so much trouble on the bus and almost caused her to get home half an hour late.

In a text chat with her sisters, Rhamina stated that she wished for the bus to catch fire… And she hoped it would be with all of said freshmen in it.

She didn’t hate all of the freshmen class, there were a few that she liked as well as a few she hasn’t met yet, but she knew that for sure the ones on her bus were insufferable.

Unfortunately for the ravenette, she got off at the last stop of the route and the freshmen would not get off until the two stops before hers so she would have to put up with them for almost her entire ride.

When it was finally time to get off the female was the only one left.

‘Looks like Gavin wasn’t here today,’ she thought as she hopped off the bus, giving a wave to the bus driver before she walked down the street.

When she was in front of her house the teen opened her mail box to retrieve the multiple envelopes and parcels inside.

Still humming along with the music that played in her ears the ravenette opened her front door to be greeted with complete and utter silence as her grandparents were at a doctor’s appointment and her mother had taken the dogs to the vet for a check up.

The silence didn’t bother the teen though, in fact she was quite content to get the house to herself after so long of being bombarded by social interaction.

With a smile she left the envelopes and lunch bag on top of the kitchen counter before removing her boots and taking the parcels with her name on them as well as the rest of her things upstairs with a small smile on her face; however, her relief was short lived.

As soon as she opened her bedroom door she saw a young man with pale skin and medium length brown hair laying on her bed.

He wore a pair of blue jeans with a green t-shirt, and a black jacket over it.

Rhamina’s breath was caught in her throat and she as she was met with familiar blood red irises.

“Hello, Little Fox, it seems like you’ve been doing well,” the male spoke with a smooth voice and a smirk on his face as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

The ravenette could feel her heart beat faster as the male stood up and began walking towards her.

‘Move!’ she thought still standing wide eyed, ‘Fucking do something! Why can’t I-?!’

She was finally brought back to reality when she slapped the male’s reaching hand away before hunching forward slightly to let out a long hiss.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, keeping her eyes on the male for any movement he made, “How the hell did you get out and why don’t they know that it was you who did?”

The smirk fell from the face of the man before he replied, “How did you avoid getting arrested with me back then? How were you able to give me every piece of information on my targets without leaving your own location?”

Rhamina winced at the realization and her head was telling her to run but she was too stubborn for that.

“So you figured out my tricks… well fuck,” she sighed, backing up slowly still keeping her eyes trained on the older male, “Why are you here? You going to kill me?”

“No,” the male chuckled, “Why would you think that? In fact I came back so we could work together again.”

“No, I fucking refuse,” Rhamina spat, “I stopped playing the game a long time ago.”

The ravenette jumped as the door slammed loudly behind her and before she could even say anything she was pinned between the murderer in front of her and the door that had kept her safe from the horrors of the outside world.

“You don’t just stop playing the game, Kitsami,” the male whispered in her ear as he held her wrist in place, “You don’t stop playing until you die.”

“You know that,” he continued as he backed away slightly to look the teen in the eyes, “You’ve helped me get rid of so many other players after all.”

“I don’t get why you need me now though,” Rhamina spoke trying to avoid any eye contact, “You already know how I did my job and could do it by yourself.”

“Oh, the first part is true but the second part isn’t,” the male spoke with a smile, “Because even if you haven’t been active on the deep web, the truth is you never even stopped playing the game, have you?”

“No, in fact you’ve been honing your skills haven’t you? So even if I just say a name, I’m sure you’d be able to give me anything I needed.”

“You’re really overestimating my abilities, you know that?”

Rhamina let out a yelp as she was forced to face the male who was only inches from her face.

“I know your not stupid Kitsami, plus I heard you were having some money issues right?” he whispered while looking down into the female’s brown irises, speckled with gold flecks, “Well, this time around I’m willing to be giving you a 50/50 cut of the payment since you would be more involved.”

Rhamina was silent with that statement. It was true. Her family had almost no money left and with how the district was treating the band program she feared it wouldn’t last.

“I know you’re careful and that you’re going to have just as much fun as I do,” he continued with a smirk, “So what’s it going to be, Kitsami?”

“Fine. I’ll do it with the 50/50 cut.”

“Wow, so it was the money that swayed you, huh?”

“It shouldn’t surprise you, Koda, I am a fox after all,” shrugged the female as the older male backed away, “We are greedy little things.”

“Here,” the male said as he tossed a box at the ravenette who almost dropped it, “a few gifts for you.”

She opened the box as the male laid back down on the bed to see a cheap thirty dollar, touch screen phone and a black cord choker with a purple gem in the middle.

“I suspected you wouldn’t want to keep any of our work conversations on your computer so I got you an untraceable phone,” Koda explained as he stretched.

“So I see someone was confident that I would agree to working with you,” Rhamina commented with a scoff, “What would you do if I said no?”

“I would kill everyone in that little marching band of yours.”

In a split second the ravenette sat on the male’s stomach with both of her hands wrapped around his throat, not gripping hard enough to really do anything but enough to make herself known.

Her face showed no emotion but Koda could see the rage burning as the gold flecks in her eyes seemed to glow and the temperature in the room dropped.

She began to squeeze down on the male’s throat as she growled, “Even think about saying that again and I will break every single bone in your body.”

The male chuckled as black dots began to appear in his peripheral vision.

“You really did grow up to be so beautiful, you know?” he wheezed causing the ravenette to loosen her grip in shock at the comment, “I see why you chose to be called fox.”

“What are you getting at-?!” she was cut off as the male bucked his hips up to throw her off balance and rolled them over so he was the one pinning her down.

“You look so cute with your ears and tails flicking around like that,” he commented with half lidded eyes as the ravenette was pinned once again, “But you’re still really inexperienced… I can fix that.”

“What the actual- Koda!” Rhamina squealed as the male suddenly dropped his full weight on her, burying his face into her neck, causing her heart to beat faster as she became more uncomfortable.

“I missed you so much, you know?” he whispered, tone changing dramatically, “Prison wasn’t fun and I couldn’t talk to anyone there like I could with you. It was so boring but now I have you again.”

The ravenette knew it was a bad idea.

She knew it was only trouble to get herself involved again but in that moment she saw someone that she could trust.

In that moment Rhamina saw someone she needed to protect in the shell of the bloody murderer laying on top of her, holding her as if he was afraid that she would crumble away.

In that moment she couldn’t help but wonder, ‘What happened to you?’

~~~Fin. Chapter 1~~~

[punkscowardschampions]

Scummy GC

Charlie: hope you two are having a very merry sober holiday 😘 Ronnie: just say f u its shorter like Joe: yeah cheers mate 👍 Bronson: I'm gonna go with Feliz navidad bitches 'cause I'm multicultured and it's a bop 🕺🎵 Bea: Always said that about you, babe, bringing the much needed culture, Charlie bringing the class Charlie: she gets it! nothing but genuine festive feelings here kids Bronson: She's a smart girl, always said that about her 🤓🧠 Ronnie: yeah getting knocked up by freckles is well smart Bronson: Don't be bitter 'cause you're barren Karen Ronnie: 🖕 got enough kids to look after here cheers Bea: Stopped you making the big separate claims per kid so isn't an advisable career move for you, no Bronson: 😂 Joe: alright don't need a headache coming at me from this direction as well Ronnie: trouble in paradise? shocker Bea: Turning up and seeing otherwise would be too 💔 I suppose Bea: no need to act like we don't all know the actual problem Ronnie: that my invitation yeah? speaking for mummy dearest now you're playing at being one, that's proper sweet Bea: Just 'cause you're waiting for it to be written in blood Ronnie: or sweat or tears like Ronnie: I'm easy Charlie: this is exactly what I was after Charlie: creating that family christmas vibe, thanks ladies Ronnie: we all know you've got a boner for my ma and stepdaddy Charles the only thing that's shocking is you ain't there with that lot Charlie: shocking in what world Ronnie: the one where you're a step away from wrapping yourself up and getting on their front step baby Charlie: obviously there'd be no greater gift for you than to sulk all alone 'til dear joseph gets back Charlie: but I'm skint 😘 Bronson: Go on and keep pretending I ain't here, it's cool Charlie: OBVS you'll be coming too because you don't 💘 her as much as you love milfy, right ron? Bronson: I mean... 😉 Ronnie: only your backstory is a match for the princess' if we're going for the pity adoption though babe Ronnie: unlucky B boy Ronnie: we're in the cold this year and every Bea: and here's me thinking I'd missed this year's obligatory sob-story film Bea: tah for the recap Ronnie: gotta give you everything you want 💋 Bronson: 🤶💉 Bronson: You're alright, she had a dose of the clap last year Bea: I'm set, oddly enough Bea: and thanks, Bronson Bronson: Have I earned MY seat at the table? 🤞 Joe: crack that joke to my brother and you'd find out, like 😏 Bronson: Reckon I could take him, no offense Charlie: hot Bea: 🙄 Bronson: 🤢 Charlie: 😂 Bea: That all then? Bea: Merry Christmas etc Bronson: 😂 Bronson: Sounds like a Ma, doesn't she? Bronson: Busy busy 🐝 Ronnie: love you too 👑❤🖕 Bea: Obviously Bronson: It's been fun lads! 🙌🍾 Bea: Have to see you some time in the new year, yeah? Bronson: Text me and just me, like Bea: Will do ❤ Charlie: Bit rude when I've not seen you for longer but okay Ronnie: he means leave me out your text chain, yeah? Ronnie: can do Ronnie: don't fuck with stepford wives Charlie: you can dream, babe Charlie: 'tis the season Bea: If I thought I could trust you around pool chemicals Bea: still wouldn't hire you as my poolboy 💔 Ronnie: is it christmas without some casual racism? nah Bea: If I was being racist, I'd have gone with Bron Bronson: Always the bridesmaid Bronson: Thanks though Bea: Exactly, you're welcome Bronson: 🎁🎁🎄🎁🎁 Bea: actual gifts to come Bronson: I posted yours meaning you'll have it by July maybe Bea: 😂 Bea: hopefully they post it right back then Bronson: 🤞 Joe: have a good one 🎄 Joe: back asap Ronnie: be more of a walking greeting card mckenna Joe: think they're usually a lot more flowery than that Joe: but sweet of you to say anyway Ronnie: not how I write 'em but only got so much blood, yeah? Joe: I won't watch the post then Joe: noted Ronnie: don't Ronnie: disappointing you is 🎅s job like Joe: you'd never Ronnie: you wish Ronnie: there's enough loved up couples at your table baby Joe: don't I know it Bea: Could you do this privately Bea: don't need the notifications Ronnie: not coming for your incest 👑 relax Ronnie: you can still be the people's princess Bea: not taking your 🩸ties Bea: deal with it Ronnie: 💔 Bea: you cry more than my kids, honestly Ronnie: give 'em time Ronnie: don't know they're born yet Ronnie: plenty left to fuck 'em up and over Charlie: This is why you aren't being asked to be godmother Charlie: terrible speech, come on now Ronnie: nah it's 'cause you're the biggest fairy she knows Charlie: babe 💘 Charlie: that's more like it Ronnie: 💋 Joe: please don't put the idea of a christening out there Ronnie: gotta save 'em from hell somehow mckenna Ronnie: they'll already be living it Joe: don't start Ronnie: don't tell me what to fucking do like I'm your missus Bronson: Come and get your medicine, Grandma, maybe you'll calm down Ronnie: you either Ronnie: ain't too big to get sorted out Bea: Bless Bronson: NOW it feels like Christmas Bea: and all before the Queen's speech Bea: which obviously, we don't have to endure Bronson: Could be a record Bronson: The festive feels are definitely higher than last year Bea: don't act like you remember 😏 Bronson: Shhh Charlie: You ungrateful brat Charlie: I always do the best christmas Bronson: Calm down, dear, I'm trying to make Bea feel like she's missing out so she'll rush back to save Christmas Charlie: 💡🤓 Charlie: I'll 🤫 Bronson: I'm a smart boy, you should all be saying it about me, like Bronson: I'll pretend to leave so you can have a practice Bea: You're both idiots Bea: but you're both sweet too Bronson: We love you 💞 Charlie: yeah, thanks for letting me hit that before you got wifed, babe Charlie: remember it always 😘 Ronnie: and you pussies want me to shut the fuck up Ronnie: fitz you're the gayest it's hardly a 5 star review Ronnie: bet she wishes she could forget, like Charlie: how dare you erase me Charlie: RUDE Ronnie: you're still here and queer babe Ronnie: can't get rid Charlie: unlucky Ronnie: that's me Ronnie: stuck with yous Charlie: Yeah, yeah and our hearts bleed Charlie: seriously, get some more 🍾 in your glass immediately Ronnie: can be arranged twat 🖕👊💔🩸 Charlie: don't threaten me with a good time Charlie: already having so much fun Ronnie: it's not a threat baby it's a guarantee Ronnie: sit on the 🍾 and shut the fuck up, yeah? Charlie: I'm sorry, shoulda complimented you too Charlie: I remember you were there, don't worry Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: always was, hand and dick holding for you Ronnie: you ain't got enough sweet talk Bronson: 🤢 Bea: I agree Joe: same Bronson: You two are the real married couple Bronson: You're making the kids uncomfortable mum and dad Joe: get a room and a 💍 charles Ronnie: ain't getting one of you, Joseph Joe: not asking to be your third Ronnie: gutted like Charlie: Spring wedding? Charlie: 🌷 🌹 🥀 🌺 🌸 🌼 🌻 Bronson: Bagsie Best Man Bea: Just don't clash with my christening Bronson: I won't let that happen, I've got you Bea: 💕 Bea: worry about them, no one would show Bea: 👑 Charlie: 😱😱😱 Bronson: 😂 Charlie: 👜🌄 Charlie: you ain't pregnant now, sweetheart Bea: don't all rush to defend my honour at once Bronson: I've just decked him IRL Bronson: keeping it Christmassy Joe: fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la Ronnie: you two wanna get a room after that love tap Bea: 💚👹