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softboywriting · 5 years ago

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Welcome To The Pack | Mendes Triplets | Werewolf AU

Summary: You’re a human who has moved in with the Mendes triplets as their newest housemate. You’ll have to learn to navigate life with werewolves, college classes, and your feelings for each guy. [werewolf au] [fluff] [light angst] [choose your ending] [full fic]

Word Count: 23.5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you accepted the offer of a room at a house with three male werewolves you knew life wasn't going to be easy. Your parents weren't thrilled with the idea but you're twenty one now and you had to live somewhere off campus. The rent was what got you attention. Only three hundred a month and you got a huge room to yourself on the first floor. When you went to check the place out it seemed nice, clean, like a normal house. That's when you found out that the other tenants were werewolves. The low rent made sense then. They were probably having trouble finding someone to live with them. You don't mind werewolves, you've known a few, it's no big deal.

There was only one of the guys there the day you went to view the house, his name was Peter and he was super kind and had answers to all of your questions.

Peter called you back the day after you were given a tour of the house and he said they agreed they'd like to have you as their housemate if you were up to it. You couldn't say no. Everywhere else was way too high priced and this place was close to campus. It's perfect...until you move in.

You're hauling a tote full of books through the front door and Peter walks up to you to help. He's got on pajama pants and a hoodie with the school logo on it, glasses on the end of his nose and his hair a mess. He's cute.

"I got this, go grab some more stuff."

You leave the tote to Peter and go out to grab some bags of clothes. When you get to the back of your car there is a guy standing there who looks exactly like Peter. Only he has longer hair that's just as curly and no glasses.

"What..."

"I'm Shawn." He says, holding his hand out. "You must be the new housemate?"

"Wait what? Are you and Peter twins?"

"Sort of, we're triplets. Our other brother Raul should be here somewhere." Shawn looks over at the motorcycle by the garage. "That's his bike so he must be here."

"I'm sorry...Peter didn't mention that the other two guys were his identical brothers. He just said two other guys lived here!"

Shawn laughs. "Yeah, he's smart as hell but he can be pretty damn stupid sometimes. If you want to back out, I guess that's okay. We'll find someone else."

"No! No, it's fine. I'll figure it out. It's no big deal right?" You grab a bag of clothes from your trunk. "You're just three guys. Three guys that happen to look alike."

"Right. We're cool. Can I help?"

You give Shawn a once over, deciding if he's going to break any of your stuff. "Yeah, just grab some bags. Don't open anything, and be careful."

"No problem."

_____________________

It's three days into living with the Mendes boys when you meet Raul. Early on Sunday morning you grabbed your shower bag and made for the bathroom. The door opens as you approach and out walks Raul, towel around his waist, hair pushed back, skin flushed. He's by far the fittest of the three, Shawn being a close second.

"Hey," he grins and he has fangs that are far from a normal human. "You must be the new girl."

"Yeah...you must be Raul."

"Mmhmm." He walks closer and gives you a once over. "You aren't a werewolf?"

"No. Just an average human."

He chuckles. "What's an average human like you doing living with a pack of wolves?"

"Cheap rent?"

Raul adjusts his towel as it begins to slip lower. "Ever lived with wolves before?"

"No."

"Interesting."

You give him a look and start to move past him, really wanting to end this interrogation and shower. He stops you with a hand on your chest and you look up at him. "Yeah?"

"You smell like Shawn."

"I borrowed a pillow from him? I needed an extra one because my neck was killing me. Any more questions? I'd really like to shower some time this morning."

Raul drops his hand from your chest. "Enjoy."

"Thanks." You walk into the bathroom and close the door with a soft click. The whole bathroom smells like whatever body wash Raul used. It's good, fresh. What was his deal anyway? Why the impromptu interrogation?

_____________________

"Can I help?"

You look up from your notes and see Peter at your bedroom door. He's in pajamas again, it seemed like he was always dressed in sleepwear. He's such a soft boy though, the comfy clothes makes sense. "I don't think so. I'm just taking notes for my history presentation on Wednesday."

"Oh. Well, can I come in?"

"Uh, sure?"

Peter sits down beside you on the bed and crosses his legs under him. He grabs some of your loose pages of notes and makes a humming noise. You glance over and he's reading them quietly, shaking his head. "You should take your notes differently."

You stop writing and stare at him. "What? Why?"

"Because, your brain isn't going to absorb as much if you're just writing everything down just like a shopping list." Peter grabs your notebook and scoots closer so he's pressed against your side. "Let me show you."

You watch as he makes groups on the page and starts copying your notes. He divides them by subject, putting your notes about people under one column, places in another and events in another. "That's a good idea."

"Mmhmm." He passes the notebook back to you so you can finish. "It helps me remember for sure."

"What're you going to school for?"

"Astrophysics."

You raise your eyebrows. "Damn."

Peter smiles bashfully. "What? It's just science."

"Space science."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Just science."

You reach out and pick a piece of pink fuzz from your blanket off of his sweatshirt. "I think it's cool."

"Really? I know werewolves usually just like are thought of as fighters and labourers or like athletes, but I want to change that. Even just a little. I want to be the first werewolf to work at NASA."

"You'll do it." You grin and he flushes as he pushes up his glasses. "Dr. Peter Mendes, head astrophysicist for NASA."

"That's the dream." He sighs softly. "One day. How about you?"

"I'm going to be a teacher."

"That's awesome. Little kids or like a professor?"

"Grade school kids. I'm aiming for kindergarten or first graders."

Peter smiles big. "You're gonna be such a good teacher."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if you're patient enough to deal with me and my brothers, kids will probably be a cake walk."

You chuckle. "I suppose so. You guys are good training."

"Glad to be at your service." He says with a salute and you shove him playfully. What a goof.

_____________________

A month into living with the Mendes boys and you almost start to regret it. Individually they're pretty chill. Peter loves to tell you about space and hangout while you do homework. Raul always seems to have a different question for you every few days, infinitely curious about why you want to live with them and borderline suspicious of you, you think. And Shawn, well, Shawn is a sweetheart. He's always making sure you're comfortable and happy and healthy. But when the boys get together, it's madness. Already you've overheard four flights in the last two weeks.

"Raul, clean up your shit your animal!" Shawn yells from the bathroom. This will be the start of a fifth fight. Always over the stupidest thing too.

"What? What'd I do now?" Raul asks, walking toward the bathroom. "What's pissed off Shawnie boy now?"

Shawn glares at him.

"What?" Raul asks angrily.

You walk out of your room and step past the two of them just outside the bathroom. You really need to wash your face before you go to bed. With a history of acne, it's not something you want to skip doing.

"There's a wad of hair in the tub drain, clothes behind the door, shaving remnants in the sink. Come on dude, you're gross."

"Oh big deal." Raul rolls his eyes. "Stop being such a little bitch."

Shawn growls and you look over from the sink. You may have never lived with werewolves, but you have known a few in your lifetime. Growling like that meant a challenge.

Raul growls in return. Just past Shawn's shoulder you can see his face curled up in a snarl, teeth showing and eyes golden. It's pretty terrifying and you don't particularly want to be in the middle of this argument. Hearing them was bad enough and if this was anything like the last one, it is bound to get rough.

"Can you guys take this outside?" You ask quietly, towel drying your face. Maybe there's a chance they will listen to you.

Shawn turns to look at you and you swallow hard. He's just as terrifying as Raul, possibly more so. The tension between the two of them is palpable. Suddenly you're very aware how defenseless you are compared to the likes of them and how you would stand no chance if they started fighting.

"Shawn, stop, she's scared." Raul says, shoving his brothers shoulder, face returning to it's normal features.

"Sorry." Shawn mumbles, face relaxing a well, eyes and teeth going back to normal. "I didn't think about scaring you...I'm sorry."

"It's okay." You mutter, stepping past Shawn to go down the hall. You don't want to stick around in case they start arguing again.

"Look what you did," Raul says angrily.

Shawn growls. "You aren't any better."

A while later Peter comes to your room, slipping in the cracked open door. You aren't asleep. He sits on the end of the bed and shakes your foot.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah?"

"You should be sleeping. Are you awake because of Shawn and Raul?" Peter sighs. "They can be obnoxious, but I promise they won't hurt you."

You sit up. "It's just something I have to get used to. It's alright, I'm not scared now."

Peter leans in and puts his arm around you in a small hug. "I promise I'll try to make them fight less."

"Thank you Peter."

"You're welcome."

_____________________

Walking home from class on a Monday, you see a group of guys standing outside the engineering building. They're four big guys, all probably students, and if you were to guys, they're werewolves. Usually you would pay no mind to anyone but this group seems to be leering at you. Twice a guy with dark hair has made eye contact when you looked up. It makes you uncomfortable.

"Hey! You!"

You don't look over at them, eyes glued to the ground. You won't entertain their calls. They were probably cat calling any girl who went past. You grip your backpack straps tighter and pick up the pace a little.

"Hey!" There are footsteps behind you and your stomach churns. Great. One has followed you. "You're that girl that lives with the Mendes boys."

"Yeah, so?" You keep walking, wishing your keys with your pepper spray were not inside your backpack right now. How could you be so stupid? Just because it's the middle of the day doesn't mean you won't get harassed.

"So do they share you or something?"

You turn around and there is the dark haired guy, about Shawn's height, standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "Fuck you."

"We just wanted to see if we could get in on that." He looks you over and licks his lower lip. "You must be pretty good to please three alphas."

"It's not like that!" You clench your fists. "I just live there, not that it's any of your business."

The guy steps forward and you step back, readying to run. His face falls suddenly and you feel someone's arm around your shoulders. Heat pour out of the body behind you and your heart stops, thinking it's one of this guy's friends.

"Get away from here." It's Raul, and you've never been more relieved. "I said, get away," he growls to the guy in front of you.

The guy steps back and turns away without another word. You turn and Raul wraps his arms around you. You don't need to tell him anything, he knows how scared you are.

"Let's go home." Raul says softly, rubbing your upper back above your backpack. "I'll keep you safe the rest of the way."

_____________________

Just after midnight you hear Raul and Shawn talking loudly in the kitchen, just on the other side of your room. You've been awake for a while, thinking about the group of guys from campus, scared that something may have happened to you if Raul hadn't shown up.

"We've made her a target!" Shawn says angrily.

"Because she smells like us? What does another pack care about her for? She's just a human living with wolves."

"You said there were guys that were trying to take her. If she had been taken..."

"You don't have to say it. We all care about her. I'd kill anyone who lays a hand on her."

Peter speaks up this time. "Me too. We need to keep her safe. Other packs know she's our weakness, they may target her for that."

"Wanna take turns shadowing her?"

"We're going to have to."

_____________________

Shawn stands at the door, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to leave. He offered to drive you to school even though his class doesn't start until noon. You know exactly why after the conversation you overheard.

"What time are you out of classes today?"

"Not until five. Are you going to pick me up?"

Shawn groans and rubs his neck. "No, I'll be at hockey practice. I can see if Raul or Peter can get you?"

"I can walk ho-"

"No, I got it." Peter says softly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I've got a study group until five. Meet me at the library?"

"Sure."

Shawn puts his arm around your shoulders and walks out with you. His warm body heat radiating through his thin hoodie.

"I could drive myself?" You look over at your car. "It's no problem."

"We want to make sure you're safe. Raul told us what happened with those guys and we want to make our presence known around you," Shawn says matter of factly. "You're part of our pack now. We'll take care of you okay? We will just have to stick together until we're sure there is no threat to you."

"O-okay." You take a seat in his Jeep and put your hands between your legs to keep them warm. You haven't been part of a pack before, or even a family really. Your parents didn't do much with you and your brother as kids, and they split when you were in your teens. It feels good, having people care about you.

_____________________

"Hey sweetheart," Raul says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You're on your way out of your math class that you absolutely hate but are required to take at least one semester of a year for your degree. "Hungry?"

"I had a granola bar in class. So, not really?"

"When's your next class start?"

"An hour. I was going to go to the library."

Raul scoffs. "Nope, you're coming with me to get lunch."

"But I don't have any money."

He stares at you blankly. "I'll pay. I'm not going to make you pay for lunch when it's my idea. What am I? An animal?"

"Well..."

"Ah! Don't even go there." He grins and you can't help but crack a smile that turns into a little laugh. He's literally showing off his prominent fangs as he smiles. The irony. "What? Stop laughing."

"No." You push his lip up and he playfully bites your finger in retaliation. "Wolf boy."

Raul bares his teeth and you giggle. He's obviously not serious like he had been while fighting with Shawn the other day. While he looks terrifying, you aren't scared at the moment. Raul drops his facade and stares at you blankly. "You're weird."

"Nuh uh, you're weird. I'm just standing here, you're showing off your fangs to the world."

"And you're giggling at it!"

You raise your eyebrows and tilt your head a bit. "Would you rather I cry? Or run away?"

"N-no." He stammers. It's strange seeing him a little caught off guard like this. "You're like whiplash. One moment you're scared of us, the next you're giggling. I don't understand you."

You grab his hand and he slides his fingers between yours as if it were completely natural. Your heartbeat picks up a bit, not expecting him to do that. "Maybe you should try harder? I am your newest pack mate after all."

Raul narrows his eyes as if he were going to deny that statement, but he doesn't. He won’t. "Whatever, let's go to lunch."

"My choice?"

"No, mine."

"Well that's not fair."

He tugs you along gently, hand still in yours. "Life's not fair. I'm paying, I pick."

"Fine. Jerk."

"You know it, sweetheart.”

_____________________

Shawn's first hockey game of the season is on Saturday and you're all bundled up, ready to sit in the cold arena for a few hours. Shawn had invited you to go on Monday and you couldn't say no. He was so cute about it, giving you his jersey from last year to wear over your hoodie and everything. He even made you some cookies in sort of hockey stick shape. Honestly the world doesn't deserve him.

"You made it!" Shawn says excitedly as he wraps his arms around you. You’re in the hall outside the locker and storage rooms for the ice rink on campus. Hockey is sort of a big deal at your school. "We're just getting ready, do you wanna see the locker rooms?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Okay, okay, yeah locker rooms are kind of gross." Shawn laughs, he almost sounds nervous though you can’t imagine why he would be. First game jitters most likely. "You wore my jersey I see."

"Mmhmm. It's huge even over my sweatshirt." You pull out the silky jersey material from your chest. "I guess that's good though, wouldn’t want it to squeeze me to death or something."

Shawn smiles. "I love it. Did Raul and Peter come with you?"

"Yeah, they're getting snacks at the concessions. You guys eat too much."

"Fast metabolisms." Shawn pats his padded stomach. "Wolves gotta eat baby."

"Yeah, and they eat everything in sight. Speaking of food, I'm making dinner tonight, so you better be home after the game."

Shawn groans in delight. "I get to have you watch me play and I get dinner? Is it my birthday?"

"It's Saturday." You chuckle, rolling your eyes at his theatrics. "I always make dinner on Saturday, the game is just a bonus."

From the locker rooms a few doors down the hallway you can hear the coach yelling for Shawn.

"I gotta go. I promise I'll be home for dinner. I’m riding back with you guys anyway."

"Good."

Shawn turns to go and you grab his hand. He turns back and you lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "What was that?" He asks, touching the place where your lips had been.

"For good luck.” Your heart races and he squeezes your hand, telling you that he can feel it too. “Go, before the coach hunts you down."

Shawn flushes and clears his throat. "Thanks. I'll meet up with you after?”

"Mmmhmm. Good luck!"

____________________

Your team wins the game, even though Shawn kept gawking at you every couple of minutes. As team captain he really should be paying more attention. There were several shots he should have made with ease had he not been totally distracted. You can’t blame him though, he must be thinking about the cheek kiss. You know you were.

Post game you wait with Peter in the entryway to the ice complex. Peter gave you his jean jacket to keep warm even though you have on a hoodie and shawn’s jersey. Raul went to get Shawn's jeep to pick everyone up out front. Shawn had carpooled with one of the other guys on the team so you and the guys could bring his jeep and everyone could ride comfortably.

Shawn walks out of the doors to the rink and he’s got on his sunglasses and a long sleeve shirt, bag of gear slung over his shoulder. He looks so good, like a professional hockey player coming out to meet fans. He pushes up his sunglasses and smiles, picking up the pace when he sees you and Peter at the doors.

"Did you see that shot I landed from halfway across the ice? It went sailing past their goalie so fast he didn’t stand a chance. I've never done that before." Shawn says excitedly. "I played so well.” He puts his free arm around your shoulders. “I think you're my good luck charm."

"Oh please, I think you were too distracted personally." You say and he raises his eyebrows, leaning back to look down at you. "What? Like I couldn't tell you kept searching for me in the seats? I know you missed that shot that was passed to you because you were looking for me when I moved to get a better view.”

"I just-"

"Shawn! Shawn!" A group of three girls comes running over, giggling and making a lot of noise between them. "You were amazing out there!" “So good!” “I loved the game!”

"Oh, thanks." Shawn says softly, breaking away from you for a moment. "Can I help you ladies?"

"We wanted to see if you were available tonight." One of the girls, a tall blonde, says playfully. "We're hosting a party at our place. Our frat actually."

Shawn looks at the three girls and then over to you and Peter. "I..."

You catch his eye and just sigh, assuming he's not going to be home for dinner now. You were even going to make his favorite, spaghetti and meatballs.

"I have dinner plans."

Your stomach flip flops. He’s going to go home with you and not these girls? Wild.

"Oh...that's lame. You could stop by after. We really want you to come over. You are the captain after all." One girl says with a little pout.

Shawn shakes his head. "I need to rest up." He steps away from the girls and puts his arm around your shoulders. "Thanks for the offer ladies, maybe another time."

Peter looks up from his phone and points to the glass doors. "Raul's here with the car."

"Gotta go," Shawn says, waving and walking you toward the doors.

"You don't have to stay home if you want to go," You say and glance back at the girls who are now talking among themselves. "I can save you some dinner or something."

Shawn presses his nose into your hair as he walks behind you now, arm around your chest. "I promised I'd be home for dinner. I can go to a party whenever. I don't get your spaghetti and meatballs all the time."

"How'd you know I was going to make that?"

"I saw the ingredients on the counter this morning. I realized when you said you were making dinner that was what it was going to be." Shawn opens the back door for you and hot air pours out. Raul's got the heater on high just for you. "I'm staying home."

"Alright, alright." You climb in the back seat and Peter gets in opposite you. He pockets his phone and scoots closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder. You put your hand in his hair and he sighs contently. "Are you guys ready for dinner?"

Shawn throws his gear in the back before getting settled in the passenger seat and they all answer in a chorus of yes as Raul pulls out onto the street. You smile, feeling so at home with them. Being a part of a pack is pretty damn good.

_____________________

It's early on a Sunday morning when Shawn invites you to go out with them. He says they go on a hike once a week, and you know they go out, but you're pretty sure their idea of a hike and yours is quite different. The four of you head out into the woods down the street from your house, they’re pretty thick and have a creek that runs through the trees. Its nice, even though it’s cold.

Once you get just inside the trees Shawn gives you his zip up jacket and they run off into the woods. You barely get a word out in protest before you’re surrounded by three huge wolves. It’s obviously the boys, but you have no idea which one is which, they all look incredibly similar.

The biggest one of the three bumps against you, pressing his side into your back. He noses under your hand and you pet his head. You would guess it's Shawn since he's the biggest of three as a human.

The one with slightly darker fur circles you, head down as he growls lowly. You watch him, eyes narrowed as he jumps away from your outstretched hand. It's Raul. The slight distrust and standoffishness is apparent.

Then there is the second biggest wolf, nearly identical to the biggest wolf, who is sitting patiently, waiting for you to approach. You think it must be Peter, since he is the only one left, but something about him isn't quite right. He nudges into your hand and you rub his ears. "I'm not sure which one is which."

Raul lets out a sharp bark and you turn to look at him.

"I am well aware which one you are, Raul." You say impatiently and he sits down, looking proud of himself. What a show off, even as a wolf.

The biggest wolf joins the other in front of you. They're so similar, right down to the fur color and markings, but one is clearly larger It must be Shawn, has to be. "Shawn?" You ask, pointing to the biggest one.

The big one lowers his head and whimpers. Obviously not.

"Peter? You're so big though. I thought for sure Shawn would be the biggest." The big one rolls over and you drop to your knees, rubbing his side. "You're such a big boy, how’d you get so big?"

Shawn nudges your back and you hold his head.

"Jealous baby." You laugh and Raul jumps on you, pushing you into Peter and Shawn. "Hey! Jerk, you're squishing me!"

Shawn tackles Raul and you lay down in the leaves watching the two wolves tangle a few feet away. Peter lays his head on your lap and you scratch it. They're just the same as wolves as they are as humans. Go figure.

____________________

Raul walks into your room late one night and looks around. You look up from your laptop. You've been slogging away on an English paper that you don't want to write. It’s the most boring thing on the planet and you would rather pull out your own hair one by one. "Can I help you?"

"I need you."

"Okay? For what?"

Raul crosses his arms. "School work."

"Like...tutoring or?"

"No. Just come with me."

You get up and set aside your laptop. Your English paper can wait until later, it's almost done anyway and you need a break. Raul leads you upstairs to his bedroom and you peek around the doorway into the forbidden territory. You’ve never dared set foot in any of the guys’ rooms without being invited. Though they always seem to invite themselves into your room. You suppose your sense of personal space and theirs is probably pretty different considering your upbringings and cultures. "Should I come in?"

"Yeah, door is open isn’t it?"

You walk in and his room smells like vanilla and sandalwood, soft but rich and heady. It’s so very much like Raul. Honestly you didn't know what to expect. A mess? Stinky boy smell? Everything painted black? What you get is none of those things. In fact, Raul's room is more like a mini art studio with a bed and a dresser in the corner. There is a huge canvas drop cloth on the floor and covering two walls. Somehow in the time you have lived with these guys, you never found out Raul painted.

"What are you doing?" You ask, walking around paint spots on the covered floor. "Why do you need me?"

"I need your picture."

"For what?"

"To paint." He says matter of factly as he grabs a camera off his bed. "I want to use the color of your eyes for something because it’s the perfect color and unless you want to stand here while I color match for who knows how long, I just want a photo."

You shake your head. "I think you're missing something here."

"What?"

"The fact that I had no idea you were an artist?" You laugh, gesturing to his work station. "How come you never said anything?"

Raul shrugs. "It wasn't important? Besides...it's not like my major or something. I just take a few classes to help with my art skills for architecture."

“You’re majoring as an architect?”

“Yeah.” He lifts his camera and then lowers it, changing some sort of setting on it you assume.

You walk around and look at the canvases, some half finished, propped against the wall. ��Art could be your major.”

“No.”

"Why not? These are good." You grab a canvas with pink roses on it, they’re very detailed and vibrant, almost like looking at a photograph. "I love this."

"Take it."

"But...you don't want it?"

Raul shrugs again. "It's just stupid flowers. Can I take your photo now?"

You tuck the painting up under your arm. "Fine. But only if you show me the finished product you need my eye color for."

"Okay, but only if you don't keep telling me how good my shit is."

"Fine."

Raul lifts the camera and moves in close for a good picture. He changes angles a few times and then pulls back. He looks at the screen and smiles a little bit. "Wow." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. Thanks, you can go now I guess."

You roll your eyes. "Good talk," you say sarcastically and leave his room with your new painting in hand. You don't understand Raul. One minute he's a sweetheart, taking you to lunch, holding hands, and the next he acts tough and indifferent. He's hard to read, and even harder to unpack.

_____________________

Something has been bothering you since the night of Shawn’s hockey game. It’s not anything anyone has done per say but more of something that they haven’t done. Since you moved in, now almost three months ago, you’ve never seen any of the guys with a significant other. To your knowledge all three boys are in to girls, but you can’t be sure since you’ve never actually asked. Either way, you’ve never heard them talk about going on a date or talk about being with anyone. What really got you thinking about it was how Shawn turned down the three girls after his game in favor of going home for dinner. Why not go to a party, meet someone, get some action? It’s not a big deal, and it’s really none of your business, but you can’t help but think about it.

Peter stands at the stove, stirring some rice in a pot for dinner. It’s his turn to make it and he’s making baked chicken with rice and broccoli. Sounds pretty plain, but Peter makes it taste really good.

“Can I ask you something?” You say, taking a seat at the dining table at the edge of the kitchen.

“Sure?”

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend, or boyfriend, whatever.”

Peter lets out a little laugh. “No lead up, just bam, why are you single? Damn.” He turns off the stove and moves the pot of rice to a cool burner. “If you must know, I’m single because it’s hard for me to connect with someone.”

“But you’re so sweet and smart.”

“Thank you, but it’s not just that.” He takes a seat opposite you and leans his head on his chin. “We wolves tend to try to find people who are committed. We don’t like to play games when it comes to relationships. I also have to find someone who understands and accepts me as a werewolf, and that’s not always as easy as it may seem.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so...”

“You like me though right? We connect?”

Peter flushes, cheeks turning scarlet as he clears his throat. “Of course I like you. As a pack member and my friend. It’s not like...I don’t...not like...y’know. Unless you want that then-”

“Peter.” You start and he freezes, eyes panicked behind his glasses. “I meant as a friend and a pack mate.”

“Y-yes. I like you.”

“Okay, good.” You smile, warmth on your own cheeks. “You should probably check the chicken. The timer has been going off for a minute or so.”

“Shit!” Peter jumps up and you laugh as he scrambles to the oven with a pair of mitts over his hands. He saves the chicken and as soon as its out of the oven, Shawn and Raul appear to get dinner. You laugh to yourself as you watch the three guys argue over whether or not they can start dishing up food. It’s always something in this house.

_____________________

Shawn knocks on your open bedroom door and you look up from your phone. It’s after nine in the evening and you’re about to go to bed. It’s not like Shawn to be up much later than this either. He gets so exhausted from going to class and then hockey practice nearly every day, he just passes out when he gets home.

“What's up?” you ask, muting the tv.

“My tv is broken. Well, my remote is broken. I sort of stepped on it this morning in a hurry to leave.”

“Okay?”

Shawn looks over to your muted TV and then back to you. “Could I...watch my show in here?”

“Why not ask Raul or Peter? Or did they already turn you away?”

“Raul told me to shove it and Peter’s door is locked.” He sighs and hangs his head. “I can just catch it next week. I’ll pick up a remote tomorrow.”

“No, come in.” You pull back the corner of your bedspread and he wastes no time crawling into the bed next to you. You decide to take pity on him. You know what it’s like to miss your favorite show for a week and then not know what anyone is talking about on your social media. “What channel?”

“Thirty six. It’s grey’s anatomy. “

“Ah, gotcha.” You change the channel and Shawn scoots closer, propped against your bed head. “If I fall asleep don’t worry about waking me up okay?

“Mmmhmm.” Shawn grabs the remote and turns up the volume as the opening credits for the show starts to play. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and you owe me.”

He leans over and kisses your temple. “You have my undying love and gratitude.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that get me? What’s the exchange rate on undying love and gratitude?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That seems like a loaded offer for something as simple as letting you watch a TV show.”

Shawn looks away from the tv and you raise your eyebrows. He lowers his voice, talking soft and sincerely. “I’d give you anything. You should know that.”

“Y-yeah. I’ll have to raincheck you on that.” You feel your stomach clench. That was way more loaded then the offer was. The way he’s looking at you...it’s insane. No. You cannot be feeling some kind of way for Shawn. You live together. Its...no. But what if? You bite your lip thinking about a scenario where you do become more than friends with Shawn. You’d let him do just about anything, and he- no. stop. You have to stop. No more.

_____________________

The group of guys from campus appear again. It's been weeks since the run in where Raul saved you. You and the guys all figured it was a one off thing, just some guys being dicks. As soon as you see them, you know something is going on.

You're outside raking leaves in the front yard when the sound of crunching leaves gets your attention and you look up from your pile to see the guys walking into the yard. They just stare at you, saying nothing. Honestly it's creepy and you feel panicked.

"Sh-shawn!" You yell, dropping the rake and running up the porch and into the house. "Shawn!"

Shawn comes running down the stairs, taking two at a time and grabs you, arms around you in a split second. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"There's wolves out there. The group from campus, they're in our yard."

Shawn growls and looks to the open doorway to the front porch. "I didn't smell anything, are you sure?"

You pull Shawn toward the door. "Yes! They're out there right...now." There is no one in the yard. Just your pile of leaves and the rake you dropped. "They were just here."

Shawn looks around, stepping down off the porch and walking around the yard. "I don't smell anything. Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You cross your arms and look around. "They were here. Three of them. It...it was the same guys. They were just here I swear."

Shawn climbs the porch steps and puts his hand on your forehead. He presses his other palm to your cheek. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine Shawn. Those guys were here."

"I just...I'm not catching a scent. They were in the yard right? Did they say anything?"

"N-no they just stood there. I'm not crazy Shawn. I know what I saw."

"Okay, okay." He holds your shoulders. "I'll finish raking, just in case they come back. Just relax alright?"

You lean your head against his shoulder and he wraps his arms around you. "I promise I'm not lying."

"I didn't say you were. Go relax, please. You're very tense."

"Okay. I'll go look at what I want to make for dinner tomorrow and just chill."

"Good girl. I'll be back in shortly."

"Okay...sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for anything."

_____________________

By the end of the day you feel awful. Strange how you started the morning feeling fine doing housework and raking but after you saw the group of guys, you started to feel bad. Shawn insisted he couldn't catch a single scent of anyone outside, and he even took a walk to see if he could pick up a trail of any sort. He came up with nothing.

Things got stranger when Shawn started to feel sick. His head began hurting, body aching and a cough that wouldn't go away. You were having the exact same symptoms, but you're a human and he is a werewolf who shouldn't be getting sick.

"Hey, are you okay?" Peter asks, poking his head into the living room where you're curled up under some blankets beside Shawn. The two of you decided to nap together when you began to get cold and shaky, the room spinning for both of you.

"We're sick."

"We?" Peter asks, walking in and taking in Shawn's sleeping form slumped over beside you. "Shawn's sick too?"

"Yeah. I...I think he is?" You shake your head, brain foggy. "It happened suddenly."

Peter furrows his brow and takes a step toward his brother, laying his hand on his head. "Werewolves don't get common colds or allergies. Did you guys get into something?"

"No?"

"Something isn't right. Did you eat or drink anything weird?"

You shake your head.

Peter takes a seat on the coffee table and you stare at him. He looks puzzled. "Walk me through your day."

"I woke up, had breakfast. I did laundry and cleaned the kitchen. Then I went outside to rake leaves, and after a while I saw a group of guys from campus, the ones who bugged me that day Raul stepped in."

"Wait, they were near the house?"

"In the yard but when I got Shawn he said there was no one there. The guys left or something. Then I went inside and Shawn finished raking and-"

Peter stops you. "Hold on. You say the guys were there, but Shawn didn't see them? Did he smell them?"

"No, no he couldn't find anything. I know I saw them, I swear."

"When did you start feeling bad?"

"After I came inside and calmed down a bit."

"And Shawn?"

"A little while later." You roll your head against the back of the couch. "Why are you asking so many questions Peter?"

"I'm curious." He stands and tugs your blanket off, making Shawn stir awake. "Did you shower or change clothes after you raked? Have you taken any medicine?"

"No?"

"Did Shawn?"

"Probably not?"

Peter sighs. "Where is the leaves you raked? Did Shawn bag them up?"

"Yeah? They're at the curb. Why?"

"I have a feeling something is in the leaves." Peter pulls you up and covers his face with the front of his sweatshirt. "You need to change clothes, shower, and take some allergy medicine. I think you have something on you that's making you sick. Shawn too."

"Something? Leaf dust?"

"No, something like nightshade pollen or leaves. It can make humans have an allergic, or even deadly reaction and hallucinations. It's less worse for werewolves but will numb their senses, even make them ill to an extent." Peter shakes Shawn's shoulder. "Get up Shawn, you need to go shower and take medicine."

"Fuck off." Shawn mumbles.

Peter smacks him upside the head. "Shawn, get up!"

Shawn sits up snarling and shoves Peter over the coffee table. You sink back down into the cushions. You feel horrible, not up to dealing with fighting. Your energy is drained.

Peter growls and tackles Shawn over the back of the couch, both boys go careening over the sofa and onto the hardwood floor. "What are you fighting me for?!"

"You tackled me!"

"I tackled you because you hit me!" Peter hauls Shawn up and you watch in awe as he does so. Peter is big, but not near as muscled as Shawn and Raul, at least you don't think he is. The ease with which he is moving his much larger brother is astounding. "You're poisoned. Go shower and clean yourself up."

"What?" Shawn shoves Peter off of him. "I am not."

"Then tell me how you're sick?" Peter quips. "Hmm? How's a werewolf sick with a fever and cold like symptoms?"

Shawn shrugs.

You peer over the couch at them and they both look at you as you groan, head hurting. "Can you stop arguing for a minute?"

Peter sighs heavily. "I think it’s nightshade, I think you've both inhaled some pollen from the leaves or dried flowers from it."

"Fuck." Shawn says softly. "It made her sick? Is she okay? I should have realized. I'm so stupid."

"Don't worry. She'll be okay, she didn't eat any of the plant. Just get her some medicine and out of those clothes. And take care of yourself too." Peter sighs. "Someone probably planted the dried flowers in the yard as an attack. I'm willing to bet it's that pack that she saw, unless that was a hallucination. I'm not sure."

"But-"

"No one was there right? Your senses would have become dull when you went out if the nightshade was out there. All of us would be vulnerable for who knows how long if she hadn't been the one to clean up most of the leaves. I'm going to go make sure there isn't anything left. Take care of her."

Shawn gets you into the bathroom and you take a quick shower, using just some bar soap to get clean. By the time you're done you feel a lot better. You're still a little stuffed up but the headache has mostly receded and you aren't as tired or dizzy.

You take an allergy pill and get dressed in some pajamas while Shawn showers and you head to the living room. Raul walks in the front door and stops, looking around for something before spotting you.

"What happened? Are you sick?"

"I'm alright. Peter thinks someone put nightshade in the yard."

Raul makes a face. "Did you get hurt? Where's Shawn and Peter now?"

"Showering and upstairs." You pull a blanket around your shoulders.

"They just left you alone?" Raul sinks onto the couch beside you and kicks his boots off. "Are you alright? Can you breathe okay?"

"Mmhmm. Showering helped a lot. I took an allergy pill and some decongestant. I feel better than when Peter found me and Shawn."

Shawn walks into the living room in his pajama pants, hair wet and a mess. He looks so good, like a model from some loungewear magazine. Unreal. "Good you're home Raul. Peter found nightshade in the yard."

"I heard." Raul moves to stand and you grab his hand, feeling the tension radiating off of him. "Why didn't you notice? How come you let her get sick?"

"Whoa what? I was busy feeling sick too, I didn't know what was going on. What am I, a fucking botanist?"

You squeeze Raul's hand and he tries to tug away but you won't let him. If he's holding on to you, he can't start fighting with Shawn. "Rau, sit down. It's not Shawn's fault."

Raul turns sharply and looks at you. "You...don't call me that."

"What? Rau?"

"My mom called me that." He sits down, hand in yours relaxing. "Sorry, I just...it's fine."

Shawn says he's going to get Peter so they can discuss what happened and how to move forward.

You lay your hand on Raul's shoulder and he leans back on the cushions. "I won't call you that if you don't like it. It was just a slip of the tongue."

"It's fine. I just haven't heard it in a long time."

"I don't want to remind you of your mom if you miss her or something. I won't-"

"No, I said it's fine. Mom would have liked you, and...I like you. So I don't mind it."

You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his head on yours. "You like me?"

"Of course I do. A lot. You're my pack."

"Mmmhmm."

"Just...pack." Raul mumbles under his breath softly as he looks up at Shawn and Peter entering the room. There is a lot to decipher about events unfolding around the house, and you know there will probably be some arguments. You pull your blanket around yourself and settle in.

_____________________

Peter walks around the house gathering laundry. You and the boys have a set schedule for who does what chores and makes dinner throughout the week. Wednesday is laundry day for Peter. If he doesn't have enough to preoccupy the washer for the day he will collect everyone else's and do it too.

"Hey, got anything you need washed?" Peter asks from your bedroom doorway, basket propped out on his hip. There's a small tattoo on his inner bicep that you can't recall ever noticing before.

"No, I don't. I tossed all my bath towels and stuff down the chute yesterday." You get up and cross the room to grab one of Shawn's hoodies that is laying on your chair. "I have this, but I don't know if it needs washed. Shawn left it in here the other night."

Peter holds the basket out and you drop it in. "What was he in here for?"

"Watching TV. His remote broke and he needs another one." You shake your head. "I think he stepped on it or something."

"Sounds like Shawn."

"Yeah," you chuckle and touch his arm. "When did you get that?"

"The swallow?" He asks, looking down to the small bird on his arm. "About a year ago."

"I never noticed it. It's nice."

"It's our thing." He smiles. "Shawn's got the one on his hand y'know?"

"Yeah! It is the same huh?"

"Exact same. Raul is getting his this week. He has been trying to decide where to get it forever."

"Oh, that'll be fun. Where did he decide on?"

"Ribcage just under his heart. They're a reminder that we're always going to be each other's home even when we fight and want to wring each other's necks. Because the swallow represents love, family and loyalty."

You smile and nod. "That's sweet. I wish I had something that special."

"You do." Peter runs a hand over his hair. "You're part of this pack."

"While I'm here. One day I'll move out though. Besides, I'm not a wolf, and I'm definitely not blood related."

"You're pack forever. You belong here, with us. We don't just call anyone our packmate. You've left your mark on us as much as we have on you." Peter shift the basket on his hip and pushes his glasses up. "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not. Not anytime soon." You put your hand on his shoulder. "I promise I won't leave you Peter."

"Good." He grins. "Now follow me, I've got a dryer warm sweatshirt for you if you like."

"A man after my heart."

He shows his fangs, nose scrunching up and lip curling as he lets out a growl. "Definitely. I'm gonna eat it up. Don't you know I'm a wolf?"

"It's all yours." You laugh and he laughs too. It was a joke but...it almost felt like it wasn't. You do truly care for Peter. _____________________

"What are you doing after class?" Raul asks as he steals your french fries at lunch. He's taken you to the diner down the street from the campus for a quick bite. The boys won't let you go anywhere alone after the nightshade incident. Peter is working on getting cameras for the house to detect any further attacks.

"Homework."

"Do you want to go somewhere with me?"

"I'm somewhere now?" You swat his hand away from your fries so you can actually eat some.

Raul disregards your swatting and grabs a handful quickly. "I mean somewhere else dipshit."

"Dipshit? How kind of you. Makes me definitely want to go somewhere else with you."

Raul pinches the bridge of his nose and growls. "Sorry, sorry. I...I'm nervous?"

You raise your eyebrows. Raul, admitting he has emotions other than indifference? Shocker. "About what?"

"My tattoo. I'm getting-"

"The swallow right? Peter told me."

"Yeah."

"You're nervous about getting a tattoo? But don't you have others?"

Raul nods and lifts his jacket sleeve up, revealing the sleeve tattoo you knew was there from the first time you met him. It's a silhouetted forest with the moon shining through the trees and it wraps around his whole arm, the sky decorated with swirls of stars and hues of blue and purple. It's beautiful. You wish you saw it more often, or you could just take the time to really study it. It’s like a painting on his body. Beautiful.

"Isn't that way more painful than a simple swallow?"

"Yeah...but...I sort of got really wasted while I had this one done. I wasn't going to survive hours on end of needle work on my arm sober." Raul tugs his sleeve back down and runs a hand through his hair. "I don't want to do that again either. I don't like myself when I'm drunk."

"So you want me to go with you?"

"Mmhmm. Peter and Shawn are gonna go too, but I thought I'd invite you along. They say the rib cage is painful to get tattooed but it's the only place I want the swallow.”

"Aren't werewolves supposed to be really tough?"

Raul gives you a look. "I have feelings. Things do hurt me still. I'm not superhuman."

"Maybe if you showed those feelings more often I wouldn't think you're different."

"Maybe if people didn't turn on me I would."

You frown, eyes meeting his. "I don't know who's hurt you or what they did but I swear not everyone is like that. I like you Raul, somehow, I do. But you gotta open up."

He growls, holding his head in his hands. "It's hard. Just...can we stop talking about this? I don't want therapy. Are you coming with me to get the tattoo or not?"

"Yes."

"Good. Thank you."

_____________________

Going to the tattoo and piercings place turns into a fiasco. Of course Raul has his appointment scheduled to do the swallow, but his brothers seem to have other plans while you're all there. Shawn doesn't surprise you when he starts looking at the tattoo wall, oohing and awing over several very complicated designs. But Peter looking at the piercings does surprise you.

Raul gets set up in his chair, opting for one that's in the main room instead of a private area. The show off. You walk around and look at all the different stuff the shop does. Everything from first time ear piercings for little kids to photos of detailed tattoos the artists on staff have done. There is one photo on the wall you find familiar. It's Raul's arm, his sleeve tattoo. It's beautiful even in the photo.

Peter chats with a staff member nearby and you walk over to see what he's up to. He is standing at a glass case with several piercings demonstrated on foam models in it. "So it's just in and out then?"

"Yes, nose piercing is very quick." The staff member says smiling softly. She's a tiny little woman, but her blue mohawk makes her look bigger. "I don't have any appointments right now, if you wanna get one I'd be happy to help."

Peter looks to you sheepishly. "Should I get one?"

"Why not? But also, why?" You laugh, looking down at the selection of studs in the case.

"I don't know. Raul and Shawn have so many tattoos and piercings...maybe I could too?"

You lay your hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to be like your brothers. Don't feel like you have to do it just to fit in."

"I know." Peter closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Maybe just my ears? Or one ear? I want to be different. I'm just Peter y'know?"

"Yes, you're Peter." You chuckle. "And for what it's worth I like you just how you are. But if you want to get a piercing because you actually would like it, then go for it. Don't do it just because your brothers have."

"I'll think about it." Peter looks over to where Raul is pulling his shirt off. "Raul looks like he's about to get started. He'll want you there."

"He will?"

"Yeah. Trust me, he's going to cry and he's going to want someone who isn't his brother to hold his hand."

You raise your eyebrows. "Raul?That Raul?"

"Yep. Go on. I'll talk to Shawn about the piercing thing."

You wander over toward Raul and take a seat on a rolling stool on his right side. The artists gets his tools ready and preps Raul's rib cage. Hopefully this won't take long.

The moment the needle gun hits Raul's skin he's baring his fangs, eyes changing to a deep gold color. He has one arm up around the head of the slightly reclined chair for a better angle for the artist. With his other arm he grips the soft cushion of the armrest and you worry about the artists safety as time ticks by..

"Raul, hey," you lay your hand on his arm after a few minutes and he tears his eyes away from the ceiling to look at you. "Relax, take a deep breath."

"I can't," he groans. "I can't or he'll mess up."

The artist pulls back and gives Raul a moment to breath. "Take your time," he says cooly.

Raul has tears in his eyes as he says, "Alright I'm ready, go again." He's most definitely not ready because he rips the arm of the chair up and the artist has to stop to assess the damage.

"We'll cover the repair cost." You say quickly and you take Raul's hand in yours.

"Keep going," Raul growls, breathing heavily before the artist goes back in.

"Please don't rip my arm off," you say half jokingly and Raul shakes his head.

Ten minutes of agonizing silence passes. You just keep holding Raul’s hand and he grinds his teeth. "Maybe if we talked it'd go faster?"

"Can't talk much though. Breathing is hard."

"Okay, okay." You wiggle your fingers against his hand, his death grip absolutely killing you. "I'll talk?"

"Sure, or you can...fuck...can you put your hand in my hair?" He lets out a groan as the artist takes a break to let him breath. "I like my hair played with, it's calming. Please?"

You tentatively reach for his hair with your free hand, fingers carding gently through it. His hair is so dark, at least a few shades darker than Peter and Shawn's. It's thick and soft, no product in it today for sure.

Raul barely flinches when the artist starts to work again. He has his eyes closed, hand gripped tight in yours. "Don't stop," he mutters when you pull your fingers out of his hair. He opens his eyes and they're pure golden brown, like rich honey, and he stares at you, eyes half lidded.

"I wasn't going to," you mutter, eyes going to his lips. They're so soft looking, a little pink and puffy from him chewing on them due to nerves. Your heart skips, the thought of kissing him is suddenly so tempting.

"Keep talking."

"Okay. Your eyes are very pretty like this." He smiles, full on smiles like a bashfully shy boy talking to his crush. "You're doing really well."

"Mmm."

"I think you're almost done." You look down at the artist and he's working on the tail of the bird.

"Your eyes are pretty too."

"Oh yeah? You never showed me what you painted with the color of them."

"Not done."

"Ohh. I see, it's a big project then?" You flex your fingers in his hair. "I bet it'll be incredible. I know you said you don't like when I tell you how good your art is, but it is so good. I love the roses, I hung it in my room."

"Thank you." He groans as the artist finishes and pulls away.

You wipe his cheek and he relaxes, lowering his arm from over his head. "I'm glad I could help."

"I thought you two were going to start making out at one point." Shawn says from a seat behind you.

You turn and he's got his head to the side, laying against a reclined chair while the girl with the blue mohawk from earlier is setting up a tray with implements beside him. "You jealous?" You ask jokingly.

"If I was?" Shawn quips.

"Then I guess you'd have to suffer."

Shawn puts his hand over his heart. "You wound me."

"Oh psh."

Peter walks out of a back area and you see him holding a cloth to his face.

"What'd you do Peter?" Raul asks, standing up and gently putting his sweater on.

"Oh shit he did it." Shawn says with a laugh.

Peter gets closer and pulls the cloth away to reveal a black stud in the lower left part of his lip. "What do you think?"

You cover your mouth and let out a giggle. "Its so-"

"Damn Peter." Raul laughs, hand coming down on his brothers shoulder. "Didn't think you had the balls."

Peter shrugs. "I gotta do something crazy some time right?"

"It's nice." You smile, stepping closer and looking at the tiny stud. "I definitely wouldn't have the guts to do it."

"Maybe someday we could get you to get something though," he smiles.

Shawn reaches out for you, flexing his hand. "Hold my hand?"

You take it and he squeezes it while he gets cartilage pierced. You laugh as he groans, grinning into the pain while the employee works quickly to get a stud in. Shawn is such a weirdo. A simple outing turned into such an event. These boys will be the death of you.

_____________________

Leaving the tattoo shop you run into the last people you want to see. It's the group of guys from campus. There are four now instead of three and Raul immediately goes on the defense.

"Hey! You fucks!" Raul snarls and Shawn wraps his arms around you, holding you to the side for safety.

"Can we help you?" The fourth unfamiliar and clearly older member of the group asks.

"Oh don't play coy with me." Raul says as Peter walks out of the shop to your right. "I know you're the ones who have been harassing our girl."

"Excuse me?" The man asks, seemingly genuinely confused.

Peter joins Raul, looking over the guys. He's tense, you can tell by the way he's got his shoulders back and head up. "You're the ones who put nightshade in the yard."

"What?!" The guy asks, looking to his very guilty looking pack mates. "I have no idea what's going on here. Harassment? Nightshade? What are you guys talking about?"

"Why don't you ask those three." Raul points at the younger men of the group, the ones who bothered you. "I'm sure they'll explain."

"Scott...we were just fucking around," one mumbles and the older man turns to look at the three. "We thought...like y'know...she was their toy and we could get in on that."

"The fuck did you just say?" Peter snarls, stepping forward and Raul reaches for him. He shrugs him off and gets in the guy's face.

"Whoa, calm down," Scott says, holding a hand up to Peter. "He's-"

"I said she's your toy. A human like that living with three alphas? Ain't no way she-"

"Peter no!" You yell and he looks back at you, teeth showing, eyes wild. He looks ready to turn on you and your heart sinks. The last thing you see is Peter shifting, his face looks murderous. Raul desperately tries to get between him and the smart mouth with the guy named Scott helping. Shawn turns you away and holds his hands over your ears.

It's over as soon as it started. Raul drags Peter away, quite literally, as Shawn takes you to the jeep. You don’t look back, you don’t even know where Peter and Raul went but Shawn is starting the jeep and leaving the situation. You don’t know what to say. Everything escalated so quickly...and Peter just snapped. You wrap your arms around yourself. Peter was supposed to be your anchor in this crazy pack, the sane one, the one who had a level head. Seeing him go crazy like that so quickly, and feeling like you were his target for a moment...it scares you.

_____________________

Peter and Raul don't come home for hours after the fight. You don't know where they are and you don't ask Shawn. He seems just as tense as you are.

After midnight you hear talking in the hall. You aren't asleep, not even tired. You've been watching movies on your laptop just trying to calm down. The voices are muffled at first but eventually get louder, as if they are approaching your bedroom.

"Leave her alone," Shawn says. "She hasn't come out of her room since we got home. I'm sure she doesn't want to be woken up."

"I need to apologize to her." It's Peter. "She didn't need to see that."

"Maybe you can talk in the morning. Right now is not the best time."

The handle on your door jiggles and your heart races. There's a thump and loud growling. You grip your comforter, not ready to deal with another fight, not ready to see Peter.

"Shawn, I can't wait. She needs to know that I didn't mean to scare her. I just...I wanted to protect her."

"She wasn't in danger. We were all there with her. You let your feelings get in the way and it backfired!"

More growling, this time from Peter you assume. "Like you haven't been dealing with that too."

"This isn't about me. You have to let her do this on her terms. You fucked up. I understand that you need to say you're sorry but just...give her space."

Silence follows Shawn's words. There was so much to unpack in that short conversation. Feelings? Peter has feelings for you? And Shawn too? You close your laptop and scoot down into your blankets, turning and curling into your pillow. You don't know what to make of anything right now.

_____________________

Two days you avoid Peter, you avoid all the boys honestly. You get up, shower, go to class and come home. You don't stop and talk to Shawn while he makes breakfast. You don't yell at Raul for leaving his crap all over the bathroom. Nothing.

You're contemplating moving. The idea came to you the second night. Maybe if you weren't around things would be better. Maybe you don't belong with three wolves.

On the third day you get home from school and shortly after closing and locking your door, something you've never really done before now, there is a knock. You're not even changed out of your sweater and jeans when the familiar soft knock knock knock gets your attention. There is no doubt that it's Peter.

"I know you're home." It's definitely Peter.

You don't answer.

"I heard you come in. I know you're still...unhappy with me. I just- I wanted to talk to you."

You go about changing, not ready to see him. You know he's going to look rough. You had seen Raul before class yesterday and he looked like he'd got the shit beaten out of him. You have no idea if it was from trying to get Peter off the guy in the fight or if it was from pulling Peter away. Either way you know Peter can't be unscathed.

"Please..." You hear his head hit the door with a soft thump. "I need to see you. I don't want you to leave."

Your stomach hurts. How did he know you were thinking of leaving.

"I fucked up." You hear him moving, and suddenly his voice comes from lower, as if he's sitting against the door. "I looked at you like you were the problem, and you're not. I lost myself and I don't know how to explain it. I think, everything was just building and building. That guy set me over the edge when he said...when he marginalized you as a toy. It made me sick."

You cross the room and stand in front of the door.

"I care for you so much, you're my best friend in this world right now and I know that's saying a lot, and I'm probably too emotional, but you are. You've changed my life, our lives, since you moved in. I don't want to be the reason you leave. I don't want this fuck up to be the reason we lose you."

You wipe your eyes, tears streaming out upon their own accord. It's time. You can't let him go on without seeing him. It'd just be cruel. You turn the door handle and the lock clicks open.

Peter looks up at you, eyes wet as well. He's got bruising across his eyebrow and his lip piercing looks swollen. "Do you hate me?" He asks, voice cracking as he fights back more tears. "I understand if you do."

"No." You whisper, stepping closer. "Peter I don't hate you. I'm not sure I could ever do that."

He stands, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for attacking that guy and I'm sorry I scared you." He quickly wipes his eyes before resuming crossed arms. "I don't know what came over me. I-I freaked out and I shouldn't have."

"It was terrifying. I thought you were going to come after me."

"I know. I know I'm so sorry." He is visibly shaking. "Like I said, I had a lot of pent up emotions and it was the last straw. I shouldn't have let things get so bad. I don't...I don't like not being close with you."

You lay your hand on his chest and his heart is going wild. "I miss you too." You unfold his arms and slide yours around him. "Come on. I think it's been long enough. I can't not talk to you any longer."

Peter wraps his arms around you in a bear hug, squeezing you flush against him. "Thank you." He breaks down, gripping you tight and you just let him get it all out. It's what he needs. It's what you need.

_____________________

The alpha, Scott, from the group of guys who harassed you showed up with an apology on behalf of his pack mates. He said he had no idea what was going on, and that he won't stand for what they did. He even brought a gift card for you as if that would make things better. It doesn't change the fact that his pack did what they did. But it's a good attempt at making amends.

You and Shawn went out and got snacks for a movie night with the card. All of you decided that you just needed some quality time together as a pack. Things had been so hectic lately you all need to relax.

So now you're together on the sofa, watching a movie called Love Rosie. The guys let you pick the movie, much to their dismay and audible groaning. They all seem to be actually enjoying it though, they haven't fallen asleep...yet.

Raul puts his feet up on your legs on the ottoman and you glare at him. But he smiles, so cute and innocently, you can't help but let it slide. He snuggles down into the cushions, one of your blankets wrapped around him. He looks so soft compared to his usual indifferent demeanor. It's a small show of affection but one you will gladly take.

Shawn sits beside you, cuddled up against you, hand in yours. He's sharing his blanket, keeping you nice and warm. He claimed the spot before anyone else even sat down. You know he wanted you to sit on his other side so he could have you all to himself but Peter wasn't having that.

Peter. He is on your left side, slumped down, nearly asleep from a long day of taking tests. He's trying his best to stay awake for you, to watch the movie you picked. His head slips off your shoulder, and he ends up situating himself with his head on your lap and his legs over Raul's lap.

You put your free hand in Peter's hair and he lets out a soft growl of content. You smile to yourself, happy to be loved. These boys have stolen your heart and they know it.

-Choose Your Ending: In order, Shawn, Raul, Peter.-

__________Shawn’s Ending____________

Shawn has a game against the college's long time rivals, the Cavaliers. He's nervous, been pacing the house all day. It's easily the biggest game of the season. You've been trying to get him out of his head all day, telling him it's just a game, that his team is incredible. You know he's stressed because he's the captain. It's on his shoulders to lead his team to victory.

"Do you wanna go somewhere with me?" Shawn asks around noon after hours upon hours of fretting.

"Like where?" You ask, curious to see what he has in mind. Anything would be better than his pacing.

"The diner. I uh...I used to have this tradition of going for milkshakes before games when I was in the local league as a kid." Shawn rubs his neck. "I stopped a few years back because I started getting into working out and it didn't fit in with my diet and...it's a stupid reason really. Anyway. Will you go with me?"

"Sure." You push your laptop off your legs and get up to grab your shoes. "Are you paying? I don't have a ton extra this month and-"

"I got it." He offers his hand and you take it to balance yourself as you pull your boots on. "It'd be rude to make you pay when I invited you out."

"Well, you'd be surprised. Some guys are real jerks about that."

Shawn wraps his arm around your shoulders. "Some guys are dicks. Well, most guys, but you probably know that. I try no to be a dick."

"You aren't Shawn, no worries. Let's go, I could use a chocolate shake and some fries."

___________________

At the diner you and Shawn sit in the far corner booth away from everyone else. It's a little drafty due to the old windows but it's fine. Shawn notices you shivering despite your sweatshirt and peels off his hoodie for you, passing it over the table.

"Thanks." You put it on and it smells like fresh laundry and his cologne. It's the best combination of floral linen scented detergent and heady rich sandalwood. You aren't sure if he's gonna get this thing back later.

"Oh man, they have a cinnamon roll shake for the holidays." Shawn points to the menu where it's listed. "I have to get it. Are you getting chocolate? Because we could share?"

"Yeah, and fries. I like to dip the fries into the shake."

"You're a freak."

"Me? Take a look in the mirror Captain Canine."

Shawn's jaw drops and you smirk. "You’re ice cold. That is such a low blow."

"I'm teasing, I figured you could handle it." You reach across the table and poke his chest. "A big wolf like you, you could take a few jabs to the ego."

He chuckles and pushes you hand away. "Mmm and I can serve them just as good."

"Oh? Dish it up then."

He shakes his head. "I won't do that to you. I care about you too much to insult you mindlessly. I will draw the line at fries in a shake though. Inexcusably freakish."

"Don't knock it until you try it."

The waitress comes over and takes your orders, giving Shawn a few looks that make you feel a little uncomfortable, like she’s sizing him up to prey upon later. She walks away with a hairflip, a giggle and a very unnecessary squeeze of Shawn's shoulder. You watch her like a hawk as she disappears into the kitchen.

"You alright?" Shawn asks, hand waving in front of you.

"Yeah. Just...thinking." You turn your gaze to him and he leans his head on his chin, a single floppy curl hanging down between his eyes. He's due for a trim, he's starting to look more like Peter with that mop of hair. "You need a haircut."

"Uh uh. I wanna grow it out." He runs a hand through it and pulls it all the way up between his fingertips. "I want a sweet man bun."

"Oh no, Shawn no."

"Yes! Come on. I'd look so hot." He gathers his hair and twists it up into a tiny pouf between his fingers. "You love it."

"I do not. You look like a doofus. The headband for working out is ridiculous enough."

"Awww you're not nice. I love my headband."

You roll your eyes and he laughs. "Whatever you wanna do I guess."

"I'll cut it. I promise. It's getting in my eyes. I can't wear the headband under my helmet anyway, it's not comfortable. Maybe tomorrow I'll make an appointment. Anyway, what were you staring at the waitress for?"

"Nothing."

"It was not nothing. Are you jealous she was flirting with me?"

You roll your eyes but you don't deny it. You are definitely jealous.

"You are." Shawn coos teasingly. "It's alright, I get jealous too sometimes."

"Of what?"

"You." He chews his lip and before you can ask him why the waitress returns with your orders.

You smile at her and ask for two extra straws, clearly stating you'll be sharing both milkshakes together. Shawn reaches across the table and threads his fingers between yours. He smiles at the waitress and then you. The waitress looks down and she seems to take the hint that her flirting is not welcome.

You don't want to jump back into the jealousy conversation afraid that you might be wrong about Shawn's intentions. He doesn't seem to be playing games and he obviously had no problem showing the waitress he wasn't interested. But still...the lingering fear of rejection remains.

"So, are you still worried about the game?"

Shawn sips his shake and nods. "Always. Nerves means you care. If I wasn't fretting about it I'd be too cocky and that's not how you win games. I've got nerves, but they're good nerves."

"Well, I'm glad we could do something to help." You dip your fries into your chocolate. "Wanna try?"

"Gross. Sure." Shawn says as he opens his mouth and closes his eyes. "Do I have to finish it?"

"Yes." You giggle and pop the two fries in his mouth. "Enjoy it."

"It's weird."

"Says the guy who must drink milk when we have spaghetti."

"Okay, that's a real thing though!" He covers his mouth and swallows. "I am not the only one."

"Fries in shakes is a thing too. Ever heard of Wendy's frosties and fries? It's a thing there."

Shawn rolls his eyes and you steal his shake in retaliation. He tries to get it back but you start sucking it down. "Hey! That's- alright then!" He steals your fry basket and starts eating them quickly like a crazed man.

You end up snorting while laughing causing milkshake comes out of your nose, in turn making him laugh as well and gag on the fries. The two of you break out laughing so hard you're crying. You don't care if people stare at you for making noise. Shawn's smile, his eyes, his laugh, everything in that moment radiates pure love. Maybe you're not wrong about how he feels. Maybe...maybe you should let him know how you feel.

____________________

You've done all you can to get Shawn to shake the nerves and before you part ways at the entrance to the ice rink, you give him a hug. He's got all his gear in a bag over his shoulder and he drops it in favor of holding you tight.

"You're gonna do great." You say, face smushed into his chest. "I promise you're gonna beat them. I'm your good luck charm remember?"

"Yeah," he laughs, pressing his nose into your hair. "I've won every game you have come to."

"Mmmhmm. And you'll win this one."

"I hope so." Shawn pulls back and smiles down at you. "I'll try not to look for you so much."

"You better not. I'll stay in the same spot."

"Actually," Shawn drops down on one knee and digs in his gear bag. "Here." He pulls out a jersey and hands it to you. "I can find you with this on."

"Don't you have to wear this?" You ask, taking the lump of fabric. You hold it up, turning it over to see MENDES printed on the back.

"It's my practice jersey. I know I gave you one for my first game but that one didn't have my name on it."

You grin, pulling it on over your sweater. "How's it fit?"

Shawn steps forward and bites his lip. "Looks good. Turn?" You do as he asks and he runs his hand over the name on the back. "Looks real good on you."

"Yeah? Feels kinda big."

"I meant the name."

"Oh." Your heart skips before going into overdrive, realizing he is flirting.

Shawn moves back around to face you and he's pink cheeked. "I have to go."

"Good luck." You lean forward to kiss his cheek and he cups your jaw as you pull away. For a moment your eyes meet and he looks like he's about to return the kiss. "Shawn?"

"Yeah?"

"You gotta go."

He guides your head up as he leans down to kiss your forehead. "I know." He pulls back and grabs his bag. "Oh, one more thing, earlier at the diner I wanted to ask you because I wasn't sure but...was that a date?"

"Do you want it to be a date?"

A little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he looks just a bit more pink in the cheeks. "Would it be okay if I did?"

"Yes." You smile, looking down at his jersey on your chest. "Go, we can discuss this later."

Shawn groans and looks to the locker room doors and back at you, as if torn between playing the game or spilling his heart out more. "But-"

"Go!" You laugh and shoo him away. "We have forever to talk, but the game is now."

"Alright alright." He turns and heads for the locker rooms, glancing back only once and you give him a stern look that makes him chuckle.

Your stomach is doing backflips and the second he's out of sight you let out a little jump of excitement. He is interested. He is. You aren't wrong. You grip the front of his jersey and take a deep breath before heading into the seating area.

______________________

The game is incredible. It's a hard back and forth between the two teams. It comes down to the wire, the last shot being scored by Shawn with only six seconds left on the clock. The arena's cheers were deafening, everyone screaming and shouting for the team and Shawn. You're so proud of him, and when he looks for you in the crowd, you can only smile at him until your face hurts.

In the hall post game you wait, back against the cold bricks while Shawn and the team get undressed and ready to face the fans milling around in the hall surrounding you. Tonight is going to be a massive party, you already know of several going on. No doubt Shawn will want to go to some. You're just waiting to see him off, talk to him a little about earlier and tell him how amazing he played.

Two girls approach you, it's two of the ones from his first game that he declined invites from. They don't look too friendly.

"So, are you like Shawn's sister or something?" The taller one, a blonde, asks rudely.

"No. I live with him. We're housemates."

"Right...so did he give you that jersey?"

You look down at his huge jersey over your sweater. "Yes? I'm wearing it to support him and the team? What about it?"

The blonde rolls her eyes. "We figured you were dating him because usually the guys give their jerseys to their girlfriends. No idea why a girl like you would catch his eye though."

"It's none of your business if Shawn and I are dating, but thanks for that unwanted input."

"You-"

"Hey," Shawn's voice comes from behind the girls and they turn around, giggling over him. He's got on a fresh pair of clothes and his hair is damp from the showers. "You ready?"

"Y-yeah." You clear your throat and push down the angry tears that are threatening to bubble out from the rude girl. It's not that you want to cry, it's just that when you get angry it happens.

Shawn wraps his arm around you and walks you away while ignoring the other girls as they begin to attempt to talk to him. "Are you sure? You seem upset."

"I'm fine." You touch his jaw that's got a bruise starting on it, inspecting his soft skin. "You played amazing. I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

Shawn stops just outside the exit doors. He smiles and presses his cheek into your hand a bit. He leans down close and suddenly it feels very intimate. "I couldn't have done it without you." His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up. "You're my good luck charm after all."

"Yeah."

"Earlier today...were you flirting with me?" He whispers softly, head ducked close to you.

"Yeah, a little."

"If you're up for it...I'd like to see where this goes."

Your heart races and he grins big. "I'd like that."

"Good." He leans in, nose touching yours. "Can I?"

Your voice is barely a whisper but you manage a clear, "Yes."

"You're sure?"

You ball your fists in his shirt and nod just a little bit. With that he presses his lips to yours. He's soft, lips warm and plush. Your eyes fall closed and you can hear people shuffling out the door nearby. Shawn smiles, teeth pressing against your lips.

"I've been wanting to do that forever."

You open your eyes and they meet his, pure golden brown. "Me too."

Raul and Peter pull up in Shawn's Jeep and honk at the two of you. Shawn let's out a snarl, baring his teeth at his brothers for rushing him.

"Let's go! Parties are waiting!" Raul yells from the passenger side window.

Shawn lets out a soft growl, focusing on you instead of his brother. "Can I do it again?"

"Please?" You giggle and he leans in, kissing you and smiling against your lips. "Let's go."

"Mmm, I can’t wait to show off my girl who helped me win the game tonight." Shawn says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and heading to the Jeep.

"’Bout time," Peter laughs as you crawl in the back seat with Shawn in tow.

Raul looks back and smiles, shaking his head. "Hey gave you his actual jersey? Shit, he's serious."

"Damn right." Shawn growls, tugging you in and pressing his nose to your hair. You wrap your arm around his and he grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles. You smile, not able to hold it back. You couldn't be happier.

End

__________Raul’s Ending___________

Finding yourself three drinks down at a party is unlike you. You rarely drink and when you do it's usually in a much more controlled environment, aka, your own bedroom at home. You aren't sure why you took the first drink from the host, a girl named Amy who invited you and the boys after Shawn's game. Maybe you wanted to relax. Maybe you wanted to escape the stress of school and finals. Maybe, just maybe you want to escape the feelings you're having towards the guys. It's been a wild ride the last few weeks and so many mixed signals have been thrown around you aren't sure what's what.

By the second drink you were feeling loose. Warm in your tummy and throughout your veins. You started dancing, moving with the crowd in the living room. It felt good, free.

After your third drink, something super sweet and heavily liquored, you find yourself crashing. Probably the sugar, or alcohol, or maybe you're just exhausted from dancing. You find yourself now, collapsed on a couch watching people around you get increasingly more rowdy. You haven't seen Shawn or Raul in ages it seems. Peter came by you not too long ago to get some water in the kitchen but you didn’t say anything to him. Suddenly you feel panicked, alone, scared and drunk around a bunch of strangers.

You catch a glimpse of Raul near the stairs. You're not sure how you know it's him, you just do. "Raul." Your voice sounds horrible and you've got some burning in your throat. "Raul!"

Raul turns and spots you on the couch. He walks over and sinks down beside you. "You called?"

"I need you."

"Oh?"

You stare at him with half lidded eyes, everything a little blurry. He looks flushed, hair a mess from running his hands through it too much. A bad habit of his. "I was scared. I realized I don't know anybody."

Raul takes your hand. "I'm here."

You smile weakly. "Can we go somewhere quiet?"

"It is too loud, huh?" He pushes himself up and grabs your hands, pulling you up into his chest. He wraps his arms around you. "Wanna go outside?"

"But it's cold?"

"Not on the porch, there are heaters. Come on." Raul walks you to the screen door to the porch. Sure enough it's warms like he said. There is a heat lamp in the corner emitting waves of warmth across the screened in porch. There is no one out there surprisingly. "Take a seat," he says, plopping down on a cushioned bench.

As you move to sit down he stops you, hand on your back. "What? Something wrong?"

"Sit here." He pats his lap and you give him a wary look, unsure of the implications it may bring. "I said sit."

You waste no time and plop down across his legs. He runs a hand up your back, his other finding your jaw and gently turning your face towards him. "Your fangs are out," you giggle, touching his lower lip.

He grins lazily, showing off the prominent teeth in question. "Drinking makes it hard to control my features." He twists a bit of your hair around his fingers and tugs a little. "I don't usually drink, I don't like how I get."

"Me neither." You cup his jaw, thumb sliding over the dark dusting of stubble there and he leans into your hand, playfully biting at your palm. "You're so gorgeous."

His eyes slowly turn a rich dark honey color. You know egging him on like this is risky in his loose state, but you can't help yourself. He looks so good and so...wild. "Is this why you wanted to go somewhere quiet?" He asks, pulling his cheek away from your hand.

"Hmm?" You slide your hand into his hair instead. "Is what why?"

"This," he presses his head against your hand. "The petting."

"Petting?" You giggle, now toying with him. You run your fingers through his short messy loose curls. "I didn't know I was petting you."

He growls, eyes rolling back as you scratch along his scalp. "Stop."

"Make me." You grip his hair and tug as he grabs your leg harshly.

"You wanna play games?" He asks roughly, voice wrecked with lust as he opens his eyes and meets yours. "You shouldn't do this with me."

"I can't resist." You tug his hair again, eliciting a loud groan before you slide off his lap. You step back and he stands, body language tense. "Will you play a game with me then?"

"No."

You bite your lip and he gives you a look. "So if I run and hide, you won't chase me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Oh?" You step back toward the open screen door. "Well I guess I'll just..." You take off into the house and you can hear Raul behind you. Your heart races, pounding hard in your chest as you push through groups of people. You get to the stairs and take them two at a time as you run up them to escape him. It's no good, you’re too slow and stumbly in your tipsy state, he's right behind you. You dodge into a bedroom and that's the end. You feel him before you see him, his warmth along your back as he corners you, hands on your waist.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" He asks, mouth on your neck. "You're gonna make me hunt you down if I want you?"

"You like it."

Raul growls and sinks his teeth into the back of your neck. It sends a thrill followed by an ache through your body. Something about the way bites like you're his, it makes you weak. "Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to bite you, to chase you down and punish you for pulling my hair?"

"I'm not going to say no to that."

Raul pulls back and you turn around. He looks absolutely out of his mind. His teeth are showing, eyes fully changed. He looks borderline terrifying but you like it. You never thought you would but seeing him like this is doing something for you. You want that wild side of him. It’s so much different than anyone else you’ve ever been with.

"You should go." Raul says, looking down.

"Why? We were just messing around. It’s just for fun and-"

"I can't hurt you. I can't get involved right now. Not like this." He steps away toward the door. "I'm sorry."

Just like that you're alone. It hurts. You thought things were going well, that you were playing with him and he was playing back. You thought maybe for once you had fully broken down that wall he keeps building around himself. You wish you could fight it, you wish you could stop feeling something for him everytime you see him. It's like two steps forward and three steps back. Just when you think you have a good chance, he pulls away. You need to talk to him, sober and in a good mood, you have to lay it all out and serve your heart up on a silver platter. Either he'll reject you or he'll feel the same and you'll have made the best decision of your entire life. You know deep down that he's a good guy, that he has a heart of gold and he cares about you. It's just a matter of getting to it.

___________________

The day after the party you wake up and you’re hungover. You feel like shit and everything just feels off. You suspect it’s probably the four shots you had after Raul ghosted you. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep you got. Either way, something feels heavier about the world today and it’s not just because you’re hungover. You make your way downstairs for some food around ten, having laid in bed and watched some videos about how crayons and cookie cutters are made just because it caught your attention and numbed your mind for a while.

The house is oddly quiet for a Saturday morning. Usually Shawn is awake and running around like a mad man getting ready to go to practice, but since the game was on a Friday that isn’t happening. Shawn doesn’t even seem to be home judging by the lack of his Jeep in the driveway. You pass Peter’s room on the way downstairs and it’s open. He is nowhere in sight for either.

When you enter the kitchen you find Raul sitting at the table sketching something. He stops when you walk in and then resumes momentarily as if to finish something. He’s not the first person you want to talk to after last night.

"You feeling okay?" He asks, looking up once more, eyes sweeping over your no doubt disheveled pajamas.

"Kinda hungover."

"Oh."

"I'm just not feeling right.”

Raul stands and grabs you a mug for coffee while you dig through the fridge for whatever you can find to snack on. He’s quiet for a moment while he sets up the single cup brewer and you’re afraid that the awkwardness of last night is getting to him.

Finally he says something. "I know painting always helps me when I'm in a mood. I just grab some colors and do whatever I feel. Sometimes it's something like roses and other still life, but other times it's just a hand full of paint and I go apeshit on a canvas."

"That actually sounds kind of fun."

"Here." He hands you a cup of freshly brewed coffee and two sugar packets, the way you like it. "Wanna try it out?"

“Sure.” You cradle the mug in your hands and take a sip. A perfect dark roast. That single cup brewer was the best thing Raul ever bought for the house. “Why not?

Raul leads you upstairs and hands you an old shirt of his that is covered in paint spots. He goes to grab his paint, a huge caddy of different tubes in varying shades. He sets the paint down and grabs the tin cup of brushes for you too. “Okay, so just do whatever you want.”

“Hmm.” You set your mug down on his dresser and look at the two blank canvases he has against the wall. One is quite large, probably kind of expensive. You don’t want to go for that one in case he’s planning on using it for something. The other canvas is good sized, probably half your height. “You’re sure?” you ask, turning and facing Raul. “I can use one of these?”

“Yeah, go for it. I’d love to have an original by you.”

“What if it’s ugly?”

“It’s never ugly if you truly love it.” Raul smiles and you turn back to the canvases. “Go on, don’t be scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You grab a tube of blue paint and a brush. There is a small pallet that looks like one Raul used recently, it’s not been cleaned off yet and the paint is dried on. You grab it and squeeze some paint onto it. “I don’t know what to do.”

Raul walks up behind you and brackets your body with his own, hands coming around your wrists. He guides your hand with the brush into the paint and then to the canvas. “Just...like this.” He guides your brush down and then up and to the side. He pauses, mid stroke and you before you can ask what is wrong he mumbles a soft, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You look back at him and he tugs down the back of the neck of your shirt.

“Your skin is bruised from when I bit you.”

“Oh.” You reach back and try to feel for anything out of the ordinary. “It doesn’t hurt. I think it must just be broken blood vessels.”

Raul holds your shoulders and leans into kiss your neck. “I promised you I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt. It’s just a mark.”

He makes a noise of protest but doesn’t say anything.

You dip your brush back into the paint and touch it to the canvas. “I’m not making anything. Shouldn’t I painting be like...purposefully?” You ask, attempting to change the subject back to painting.

“It is purposeful.” He steps back and you paint on a few more nonsensical blue lines. “What do you feel?”

“Confused.”

“No, like deep down. You said you weren’t feeling the best today. Show me.” Raul places the paint caddy closer. “Show me, and don’t tell me.”

You look to him and he has his arms crossed, watching you intently. It’s a little intimidating. You grab black from the bucket and squeeze a dollop on to the pallet. The brush streaks the black along as you paint a little curl. Everything feels too formal. It feels like you’re trying too hard to make something good. That isn’t the point. You drop the brush and stick your hand in the paint on the pallet, palm half blue and half black. You smear it down the center of the spots you painted with the brush. It feels good.

“There you go.”

You grab red, purple and the black again. You squeeze the paint directly on your hand and press it to the white bits of canvas over and over until the paint is mostly off your hand. The whole thing is a mess. A smile spreads across your face and you can’t stop it. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation is too fun and it’s really helping you ease the tension from last night. “Raul, I need your hand.”

“Mine?” He steps closer and holds his hand out palm up for you. “What for?”

“Art.” You put some purple on his palm and spread it around with your fingertips until it’s covered. “Put yours on there.”

Raul presses his purple hand to the canvas and pulls away, leaving a big print. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Yeah.” You mix some purple and blue in your hand for a darker blue and you make a bunch of hand prints around Raul’s. Minutes pass and you just keep adding more and more paint, destroying some hand prints and making others. You always leave Raul’s perfectly intact. It’s the centerpiece, the reason for your painting. “I think I’m done.” You say after there is no white canvas left. “I feel better.”

“Good. It looks great.” Raul pulls you back by your shoulders and you take a few steps back with him. “I love it."

"It's like a kindergarten project."

"No. It's art. It's your expressive piece, don't be negative because it's not some big complicated detailed painting." Raul moves around you and grabs a brush. "You have to sign it."

You push the brush away and grab the white paint. You look to Raul as you cover your hand. He's smiling, a look of pure joy on his face. Your heart skips as he moves closer, hand outstretched.

"You've got some hair in your face. Can I?"

"Please."

Raul brushes your hair back and cups your cheek. His other hand, the one with the purple paint rests on your neck, thumb over your pulse point. There is no doubt he can feel your heart pounding. "Your eyes are beautiful."

"They are?"

"Mmhmm." He stares, eyes heavy lidded and you can't help but try to look away. "They're my favorite color.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Hey, look at me." He says softly and you do. "Don't be embarrassed."

"I-I'm not....and if you love my eye color so much why have you never showed me what you painted with it?"

"I'll show you. I promise." Raul slides his hand from your cheek into your hair. His eyes leave yours for just a moment to look to your lips. They feel dry and you're suddenly very aware of that so you lick them just as he looks. You're sure it is sending a very suggestive message, one you aren’t going to revoke. "Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes."

He leans in and you bring your hand up to lay on his chest. His heart is beating just a wildly as yours is. You're sure he's a nervous wreck under his cool exterior. You smile, chuckling a little and making him pull back just enough to keep his lips against yours.

"What?" He whispers, eyes meeting yours. "What's so funny?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Mmhmm. I knew you were a softie underneath it all." You bump his nose with yours and he pretends to curl his lip up at you. "I guess you're not as wild as you appear."

Raul adjusts the hand on your throat, pressing a bit and your mouth falls open just a little. "I'm as wild as I need to be, and you love it."

"I do." You murmur and he kisses you again, teeth sinking into your lip carefully as he tilts your head up for a deeper kiss. You lean into him, moaning a little as he licks into your mouth. He kisses like no one else you've been with before and you love it.

Raul pulls away. He smirks, eyes now on your neck. "Oops."

"What?" You reach up and touch your skin where his hand had been. There are remnants of purple on your fingertips. "Is there a handprint on my neck?"

He nods, biting his lip. "Sure is."

You point to his shirt where you laid your hand. There's a white hand print right over his heart. "You got a little something there too."

Raul looks down and pulls his shirt out. "Oh, looks like you left your mark on me."

"I guess we're even now for my neck."

"Mmm, but I plan on leaving a lot more marks on you." He steps forward and you stop him with your hand. “If you’ll let me.”

"Easy. I have to finish my painting." You look over and he does too. "And you have a painting to show me."

“I’ll go grab it.” Rauls says and turns to go out of his room.

You cover your hand in white paint again and press it to his purple hand print on the canvas. It’s smaller and you smile as you pull away. It’s a mess, a huge mess of colors and chaos but in the center of it all is those hand prints. It’s kind of a perfect metaphor for you and Raul.

“Hey, have you seen-”

You turn and see Peter standing in the doorway to Raul’s room with Shawn behind him. “Have I seen what?”

Shawn pulls Peter back by his shoulder and laughs. “Nothing, we were just looking for you. Wanted to make sure you got home okay last night.”

“Looks like you did,” Peter says and points to his neck. “You got a little...uh...paint on your neck right here.”

You bite your lip and nod. “Yeah, it’s Raul’s fault.”

“Oh. Because it looks like a hand...print.” Peter says softly as he realizes that it wasn’t an accident and a handprint like that means...well....could mean a more intimate situation. “We’ll be going.”

Raul pushes in to the room past the other two and he’s holding a canvas. “What do you guys want?”

“Nothing.” Shawn says, grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed. “We were just checking up on you guys.”

“We’re good, thanks guys.” Raul says with a chuckle, looking to you and holding up the painting. “Here...it is.” He walks toward you and stops, looking at your little white hand in his on the canvas. “You signed it.”

“I did.”

Raul hands you a small canvas and you take it with your clean hand. It’s a painting of you and all three boys, like a family portrait. It’s like staring at a photograph it’s so perfect. “I was going to give it to you for the holidays.” He says and you turn it over to see he’s signed the back. Below his name is the words, Welcome To The Pack. “But I promised I’d show it to you when it was done.”

“I love it.” You set it down and pull him close. “Thank you.”

He cups your face and kisses you gently. “No, thank you. I don’t know where I'd be if you hadn’t moved in. I can't imagine not falling for you and finding the softer side of myself again. I...I adore you.”

“I adore you too Raul.” You press your forehead to his and he closes his eyes. “I adore you too.”

End

__________Peter’s Ending____________

To say you fell in love with Peter when you met him would be an understatement. You think that in all that has happened in your time since moving in, you've always known. Peter is easy to love. He's gentle, soft, always up for talking or sleeping together. You and him have had an unexplainable closeness since day one.

So the day that Peter comes to your room and asks you what you're doing on Saturday night, you aren't surprised. You've been waiting for him to ask you out. You know he's discussed it with Shawn and Raul, and they both know that he has it as bad for you as you do for him. Each boy has a place in your heart, but Peter's is just a bit bigger.

"Saturday is Shawn's game isn't it?" You ask, putting away the laundry you've folded on your bed.

Peter walks in, grabbing some pants from the basket and helping. He always does this. He just falls into a natural rhythm with whatever you're doing. "Yeah, but that's at like six. I was wondering if you want to go out after the game?"

"Go out?"

"Mmhmm. Just us." He passes you a pair of underwear and socks. "I'll let you get those," he mumbles softly.

You hold the underwear up and shake them out deliberately to get his attention. He never wants to help fold your underwear. Of course you can understand that they're obviously much more intimate than a pair of jeans or a sweater. But if he doesn't want to see them, or think about seeing you in them, he shouldn't help you fold your laundry.

"Just us?" You smirk, eyeing him for a reaction. "Why not invite Raul and Shawn?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Because...."

Peter looks over at you and pushes up his glasses. His cheeks are pink with a blush and you know your teasing is getting to him. "Because it's a date."

"A date?" You giggle. "Peter Alexander Mendes, are you asking me on a date?"

"Y-yeah?"

"You don't sound sure."

Peter huffs softly.

"Do you not want to?"

"I do."

"Then say it confidently."

He eyes you. "You're teasing me about it aren't you?"

"I am."

"Stop it."

"No way." You sing song and catch his eye. Something changes in him at that moment and he tackles you, pushing you down on to your stomach so you're face down on the bed full of folded clothes. "Peter!"

"I'll show you not to tease me." Peter climbs over you and tickles your sides and you squirm, squealing under the weight of his body. He stops and pins your wrists down as you start to thrash about, kicking him and flailing your arms wildly. "Be still."

You go limp, body reacting to him naturally. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar warmth of arousal in your stomach. "Peter?"

"Yes?" He growls and you are sure you're going to melt.

"Why are you pinning me down?"

"I-" He releases your wrists and sits up, moving over so you can get up. "I just got a little out of control for a second." He runs a hand over his hair. "I'm sorry. You didn't say that was okay. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay. I liked it." You chew on your lip and look down, afraid to meet his gaze, sure he knows what he's done to you. "And I want to go out with you Saturday."

"You do?"

"Yes, now, can I finish my laundry?"

"Yeah." He scoops an arm full up into the basket. "Sorry I destroyed all the folded stuff."

You crawl off the bed and toss your underwear toward the basket, making them land on Peter's lap accidentally. "Maybe if you weren't so...rough...it wouldn't have happened."

Peter flicks the underwear back at you. "You liked it. Don't act like you didn't."

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

Peter crawls forward and kneels before you, baring his teeth playfully. "Maybe next time I oughta bite you and teach you a real lesson about teasing wolves."

You giggle and boop his nose. "Maybe I'll have to tease you again, just to find out what those teeth of yours are for."

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you down on top of him. "I'll show you right now!" He bites your shoulder gently and you go still in his arms. He releases you and bites again, a slow drag of his teeth over your bare skin where your shoulder and neck meet. "Tell me to stop," he says lowly, needing your consent to continue.

"I won't," you whisper. You never want him to stop. You're so turned on by him it's insane. All he's doing is biting your shoulder. You've got it so bad and it's more than okay with you. It's been a very long time since you felt this good.

Peter bites again, this time it's more like little nibbles than bites on your neck. He quickly soothes them with his tongue. It's too much too quick. You can feel him grow warmer, a growl rising in his chest as he bites and soothes, bites and soothes. You've opened a whole new world to him and he's diving in head first.

"Peter." You say softly, hand going to his hair. He growls and you tug his head back. "Peter, hey."

"Mmmm?"

"You do have to stop. I don't want to either but...we should really have a first date before this."

Peter groans and drops his head back onto the pillows. "You're right. I got too into it, you just make me go crazy and I can't get enough."

You roll off onto your back and he situates himself so he's on his side, hand on your stomach, looking down at you. "I need to go to sleep. I have my last final tomorrow."

"Should I stay?" He asks, fingers lacing with yours as you cover his hand on your stomach. It's not uncommon that you nap together. Peter loves to sleep with you, and you think you know why.

"I'm not sure. Can you keep your hands to yourself?"

Peter chuckles softly. "My hands, maybe. But my teeth? I dunno. I might have some dreams after this evening. I could get bitey and handsy."

"You should go then." You cup his cheek with your free hand and he leans into it. "I have to sleep."

"Alright." Peter closes his eyes. "One last bite?"

"Should I let you?"

"Mmhmm."

"Just one."

Peter crawls over you, arms braced on either side of your head. He ducks down, nosing against your jaw. You tilt your head up and he licks a little along your throat. He's already taking advantage of your agreement. He's taking his sweet time and you are going to stop him.

"Peter." You warn, grabbing his hair and he moans softly into your skin. "You're taking a long time."

"You didn't say I couldn't."

"Don't you start with me."

Peter giggles, full on giggles as he kisses your neck over your pulse point. "But I can't help myself. You've let me in and now you're stuck with me."

"Peter!"

"Omnomnom," he mouths at your neck playfully and pulls back, crawling off the side of the bed. "Alright. I'll let you sleep." He leans over and kisses your nose. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Peter."

______________________

After your math final you head out into the courtyard to make your way to the north parking lot. You're finally done. Classes are over for the next few months. It feels great to be free for a while, to not have to worry about anything. You spot Peter sitting on the fountain waiting for you, he's got an extra hoodie on his lap and you wonder if it's for you.

"Hey," you say and he looks up from his phone with the biggest smile. "Are you waiting for me?"

"Yes." He stands, towering over you and passes you the black hoodie in his hands. "I brought this for you."

"What for?" You hold it up and it says Aerospace Program. It's the hoodie they give students who have been accepted into the program that places them in study at the aerospace center. It's the program that essentially fast tracks you to a job with NASA. "Peter! You got in!"

"I did!" He says, shaking and turning the hoodie over for you to show you his name on the back. P. Mendes in bold white font. "I'm going to be the first werewolf on the astrophysics team. No. I AM the first one because I'm already in."

You wrap your arms around him and he holds your head to his chest. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you." He presses his nose into your hair. "There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"I haven't been told where I've been placed yet."

You pull back and look up at him. He looks sad and he shouldn't. He should be the happiest he's ever been. This is his dream come true. "Why's that a problem?"

"Because if I'm not placed here then I'll be placed at the Florida program in our sister school. I'll have to move."

"Oh." Your heart sinks. He might have to leave. Just when things were starting to become more familiar with the two of you, he may have to completely relocate. "Then you go."

"But what about us?"

"We aren't in too deep yet."

"I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving home."

You cup his face and he scowls at you. "Don't throw away everything because of me. I won't let you do that. Why are you worrying about this now? Placement letters don't come out for another month right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to lose you." Peter gathers you close again. "I just got you."

"Then make the most of it now. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." You pull away and put on his aerospace hoodie. It's a little big but it's comfy. "We have a date tomorrow night, and Shawn's rivalry game. There's so much to look forward to." You hold his face and squash his cheeks so he makes a fish face. "Stop worrying you big baby."

"How can you be so worry free?"

"Because I know things will work out."

"But how?"

You scowl at him and he scowls right back. "Because I said so. I know you're mister logical everything needs a solution, but this time, just let it be. Just relax. Classes are over, we're free for the next three months."

"Yeah." Peter wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His strength is always surprising. He doesn't look nearly as big and toned as Shawn or Raul but he can easily make you seem like nothing more than a ragdoll. "Three months of you all to myself. I guess I can relax."

"Mhmm. Let's go tell your brothers the good news?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

____________________

Saturday you leave Shawn's game with Peter. You're both in a great mood. The game was outstanding, a hard fight between both teams and Shawn's came out on top. You and Peter drive out of the lot and as you head down a dark street toward the edge of town you realize you don't actually know where you're going. You were so caught up with Peter the last few days you never asked where this date was going to be at.

"Where are we going?"

"The observatory. There's a meteor shower tonight."

"Whoa, did you know there was going to be one? Or is that a coincidence?"

Peter looks over and chuckles. "Yeah I knew. It's going to be incredible. And if we're lucky, we might see something else."

"Like what?"

"You'll see."

An hour later and you and Peter are in the observatory, walking around the informational exhibits while waiting for a turn to use the telescope. There aren't many people there, just a few families and some other couples on dates it seems.

Peter takes your hand and leads you into the atrium. It's a huge room with glass walls and a glass ceiling. You can see the stars as they begin to appear one by one in the sky. Being so far out of the city makes the sky so clear, so crisp and dark. There are no lights in the atrium and you sit down on some cushions with Peter, eyes glued to the sky overhead. It's breathtaking.

"Unbelievable isn't it?"

You look over and Peter is smiling ear to ear. "It's like we're in space."

"Yeah. Here, lay back," Peter says and guides you back so you're laying with your head on the floor cushion. He lays beside you and points to a cluster of stars. "See those?"

"Yeah?"

"That's Orion's belt." He points to the left. "There's the Little Dipper."

You follow his finger as he traces out the brightest stars for you. "When is the meteor shower supposed to start?"

"Soon. But I think we might get to see something else first." Peter points to the skyline where there is a hint of light dwindling away. "Look there."

"The sun set?"

"No, it's not the sun." Peter points along the skyline to the left and the lights there look green. "It's the aurora borealis."

"What?" You squint and the light is so far and so faint you can't be sure. "No way."

Peter laughs. "Yes way. If we drive another hour that way we'll be able to see them better. I haven't seen them up close since I was a kid. I hoped tonight was clear enough to see them from here."

"I want to see them."

"But we'd have to drive so far and then back home."

You grab Peter's hand. "Show me the lights. Let's do it, I don't care if we have to sleep in the car."

"You're serious?" He laughs as you nod. "It's early enough, we can probably catch the end of them pretty clearly."

"Let's go." You gather up your purse and Peter leads you to the exit, the two of you giggling like children.

____________________

Forty minutes. Peter drives fifteen miles per hour over the speed limit for forty minutes on the dark highway to take you to the lights. When he pulls over at a rest stop atop a hill, the view is breathtaking. Blue and green lights swirl across the sky, fading in and out of each other. They move slowly like they're floating across the night sky. Ribbons of ethereal light.

"I can't believe I'm seeing this." You mutter, walking around the open field behind the rest stop.

Peter turns your head to the left and there you see something streak across the sky. "The meteor shower is starting."

"That's not a shooting star?"

"No. Well, it could be but I'm pretty sure that was a meteor." Peter wraps his arms around you from behind. "There's the moon."

"Oh! Its full?"

"Not quite. Two more nights and it will be."

You sit down and Peter adjusts so he can hold you between his legs. "Thank you for driving this whole way."

"Do you know what's special about tonight?"

"It's our first date? The lights?"

He chuckles. "Well yes, but the moon is in the same phase it was the night we met." He leans back and then holds a little box up in front of you. "I got this for you."

You take the box and look back at him. "What's this? You didn't have to get me something."

"I know." He presses his face into your neck. "Open it."

You lift the box lid and inside is a necklace with a nearly full moon charm and a small constellation of stars connected to each other. "Peter...this is beautiful. What- why?"

"It's the moon, from the night we met, and your star sign's constellation." He lifts up the moon charm and rubs over it with his thumb. "I thought it'd be perfect for you and as you know I'm a space nerd so..."

"I love it Peter." You turn and set the box down in favor of grabbing his face to kiss him. You kneel between his legs and press your lips gently to his. "Thank you."

Peter's hands find your face and he guides you back so you're laying on him. He kisses you slowly, lovingly. He bites at your lip, nibbling for permission to take things further and you giggle, biting back in response. He growls and rolls you over so you're under him.

For a moment you open your eyes. It's like a dream. The sky above is alight with green and blue waves of light. Peter is so close you could count the freckles on his nose if it were brighter. Truly this doesn't feel real, and you don't want it to end.

_____________________

Three in the morning you wake up to use the bathroom. The bed is empty, though you know Peter went to bed with you last night. The two of you got in at almost midnight and went straight to your room to fall asleep, exhausted from the driving and all the kissing you were doing under the lights.

You make your way to the bathroom and take a seat on the toilet when suddenly you hear voices, the guys. Weird they'd be up so late, but it is the end of the semester. None of them have classes tomorrow. You tune them out, focusing on your businesses.

Until you hear your name. You press your ear to the wall beside the toilet and listen. They're in the living room and they must be close to the wall because you can hear them plain as day.

"So you guys are officially an item?" Raul asks.

"I don't know about officially." Peter replies.

A scoff from one them followed by, "The bite marks on her neck seem pretty official. I can't believe she let you mark her up like that." It's Shawn. "At least take her on a second date you animal."

"I will!" Peter protests. "I got carried away, she is so...she's so good. I couldn't help myself. She gave me the green light and I wasn't going to stop. Come on, you guys know what it's like right?"

"No."

"Not really."

"W-what? I know you guys have been with girls."

Shawn let's out a laugh. "Dude, of course but not like her. You do realize you guys are different."

"Yeah. Don't tell me you don't know," Raul says, voice trailing off.

"I know. It just hasn't come up."

There's a long silence that follows. You lean away from the wall and stare at the hand towel in front of you. What hasn't come up? Is there something wrong? Did you do something? You finish up, wash your hands and pull open the door to go back to your room.

Peter is there at the end of the hall at your bedroom door as if he were going to go back to bed. You stop short of him, standing and staring at his back. What do you say? What do you do?

"Up late?" You ask softly.

Peter turns around and he walks up to you, hands warm as he lays them on your shoulders. He doesn't have his glasses on and he's got his hair clipped back in one of your barrettes. Any other time you would have made fun of him, teased him for taking after Shawn's ridiculous hair trend. But right now it doesn't feel right. Right now you don't know what to think.

"Yeah, just woke up. You okay?" He asks, sliding his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yeah."

An hour passes with you and Peter laying in bed. You can't sleep. How could you? There are many things you've overheard in this house, many things you've just decided to let be. Usually fights, sometimes conversations about girls. But this time, you can't let it go. This time it's about you and Peter, and it's something that you've done and he knows. Your stomach churns. You can't think of anything you've done. Things have been going well, you and Peter fit together perfectly. What-

"Darling," Peter mumbles sleepily, rolling over and putting his arm across your chest. "You're still awake?"

"Can't sleep."

"Talk to me."

You sigh softly. "It's nothing. I'm just overthinking."

Peter slides his hand up your chest and rests it against the base of your throat, thumb stroking gently over your trachea. "Talk to me about your thoughts. I want to be completely honest with you."

"I'm just...worried about classes." You close your eyes and clench your jaw a bit. You feel bad lying about this. You just don't know how to ask for what you want to know. "I think I failed my math final."

"Oh. Well, you can always repeat the course?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to get it out of the way."

He hums softly. "Is that all that's on your mind?"

"Mmmhmm."

His thumb strokes over your throat gently and you shiver. He knows full well how he's affecting you and he knows that you're lying. You don't know how, but you can feel he knows. "Would you sleep better if I went to my room?"

"No." You pulls his hand away from your neck gently, threading your fingers between his. "Please stay."

"Alright."

You close your eyes again and try to settle down. It's not easy when you know he wants you to tell him the truth. You feel so bad. So guilty. "If I did something wrong, you would tell me, right?"

"Mmmhmm." Peter yawns.

"Okay." You turn and curl into his chest. He puts his arm around your back, gathering you as close as possible. "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Darling."

_____________________

Three weeks later.

"I haven't gotten my placement letter yet." Peter groans, sinking into the dining chair at the kitchen table. "Everyone is getting theirs and I'm not."

"You'll get it. Stop freaking out."

"Everyone is being placed here in town. Spots are filling up, if they fill up here then I'll be placed in Florida."

You lean over the table and cup his jaw. "Peter."

"Darling."

"You're going to give yourself an ulcer."

"I won't leave you." Peter says, taking your hand in his. "I won't."

"Peter. You have to. You cannot stay here because of me if you get placed in Florida. We've been over this."

He stands and holds your face. "I am not going to leave you," he says firmly, leaving you no room for further discussion.

"When is your appointment?" You ask, changing the subject. "For your new tattoo."

"In an hour."

"We should get going then."

At the parlor your take a seat beside Peter. He picks out a moon tattoo, nearly full, the same moon he gifted you on your first date. It's small, just big enough to go right above his swallow on his bicep. He also has two other small drawings. The constellation for your star sign and his.

"You're sure you want mine?" You ask, touching the drawing of the cluster of stars in his hand. "What if something happens?"

"What if we break up you mean?" He chuckles and you give him a look. "I'd never regret it."

"You're sure?" You take his hand and he threads his fingers between yours.

Peter smiles and kisses you quick. "Yes I'm sure. Do you wanna stay for my tattoo or do you want to shop around a bit?"

"I could pick out a new stud for your lip?"

"You could. But I'm not sure how long I'll keep it."

"Why?"

"Because it's a pain to keep in my lip with my fangs."

You nod. "Alright, I'll stay then."

"Promise? Even if I'm a wuss?"

"Yes." You giggle and he leans back to relax, taking a deep breath before the artist gets seated. You hold his hand, thumb rubbing the back his fingers. Maybe he could hold your hand one day while you get a tattoo. Maybe...maybe you'd get something for him.

_____________________

Peter's placement letter arrives on a Saturday. You grab the mail as soon as you hear the box close from where you're watching TV in the living room. No one is home but you. The guys all went out for a run some time ago. You sort through the mail and there is it, addressed to Peter A. Mendes. It's from the school, there is no way it isn't his placement letter. Your hands tremble and you look around as if you have been caught with some sort of forbidden paraphernalia.

"We're back!" Shawn calls from the kitchen and your heart leaps into your throat.

You stuff the letter into your shirt, tucking it into your bra. If he doesn't know it's there, he can't panic about it for a little longer. It's wrong. It's so so wrong. But things are going so well, you and Peter are just about to make the next move in your relationship.

"Darling?" Peter's voice floats into the room and you turn around, hand full of mail. "There you are."

"Mmm? I was just grabbing the mail. I didn't hear you come in."

Peter takes the pile from you and sorts through it, the same expression on his face as he always has. Troubled, scowling, waiting to see that off white school envelope. Relief washes over him, his features softening as he gets to the bottom of the pile. "Nothing yet," he says softly, looking to you and giving a weak smile.

"Nope. Soon though."

"Yeah."

You cross your arms and the letter stabs into your chest uncomfortably. What a perfect metaphor for what you've done. "How was the run?" You ask, attempting to change the subject and not think of the paper in your shirt.

Peter runs a hand over his hair and before he can begin to answer, Raul is putting his arm around his neck. "You should have come!" Raul says excitedly. "Your man went crazy today."

"Oh yeah?"

"I did not." Peter says in his defense. "I just let off some steam."

"Crazy, loco." Raul raises his eyebrows. "He was tearing things apart. Absolute madman."

Peter shoves Raul off of him and covers your ears. "Don't listen to him. He's the crazy one."

You just smile and lean your head against Peter's chest. "Its okay, I know you're crazy. I don't need Raul to tell me that."

"H-hey!"

Raul cackles triumphantly and goes back into the living room.

"I am not." Peter looks down at you, shifting his hands so he's cupping your face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"A little."

"You want me to put you in your place?" He smirks and you press against him. "Yes? You do don't you?"

You wrap your arms around him. "Maybe. My last bite marks have all healed over so..." The letter crunches against your skin and you freeze. Fuck. You can't get into it with Peter now. You have to hide the letter. "So...I'm going to check my email and see if my grades for world studies has been posted yet."

Peter eyes you suspiciously but says nothing as you move away from him and head toward your room. Smooth. Real smooth. Not sketchy at all.

_____________________

"Can we talk?" Peter asks while laying across your bed later on that evening. You knew this was coming. There was no way he'd let your suspicious behavior fly earlier.

"Sure."

"I know you want me to drop the subject of the program placement, but I have a question," Peter says softly, his hand finding yours on the bed.

"What is it?"

"Would you go with me?"

You turn your head to look at him, silhouetted in the dim light of your mood lamp on the nightstand. "To Florida?"

"Yeah. If I get placed there."

"In a perfect world, yes." You smile and he looks over at you. "I can be a teacher anywhere. I've got a few more years than you, but I don't mind transferring."

"You'd leave everything behind here?"

"What's here to leave?"

"School? Family? Friends? Shawn and Raul?"

You bite your lip and roll over to lay against his chest. "Moving is only temporary. We'd come back in two or three years?"

"Yeah. Or I'd get a job with the center down there."

"Ohh, well yeah then I think I would go. It'd be fun."

"Yeah."

You take a shaky breath and let it out. "If I did something, will you promise not to be mad?"

"Depends on what you've done." Peter says softly, hand going to your hair. "Some things warrant more emotion than others."

"I took something."

"From me?"

"Kind of." You bite your lip and look to your dresser where his letter is tucked away in the top drawer.

"Kind of? How's that?"

"Well it wasn't yours yet, not technically."

Peter chuckles. "You're speaking in riddles. What'd you do?"

"I took your letter."

"You what?"

You push away from him and climb off the bed. He sits up and looks at you with a confused expression. "You're mad huh?"

"Confused, a little hurt, but I'm not mad." He shakes his head. "How long have you had it?"

"Today. It came right before you got back from your run." You dig in your top drawer and get his sealed envelope out. "I just wanted to delay the news a little while. I wanted you to myself for a little longer. I knew if you got this you'd only focus on it and-"

"Stop." Peter stands and takes the envelope from your hands. "No matter what is in this, no matter what it says, I will be here for you. I won't fret over it. I won't ignore you."

"But-"

He presses his fingers to your lips. "Shh. No buts. It's time for me to open it."

You watch, eyes wide as he tears open the top carefully. He unfolds the letter, eyes scanning the page, face completely relaxed and emotionless. It's so tense you can feel your heart beating in your throat. This letter is going to change everything to come in the next few months.

"I'm moving..." He says softly, eyes flicking away from the paper to yours and then back.

Your heart stops, stomach going cold and sick. "You-"

"...moving my stuff into your bedroom, because I'm staying!" He grins and turn the letter around. You snatch it from his hands and scan the top of it. His placement is at the program on campus.

"Peter!" You shove him and he scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. "You scared me! I was gonna stress puke!"

Peter stop spinning and pins you to the bed and smiles down at you. "I couldn't resist. I'm sorry." He kisses your nose. "But I'm staying, I'm going to be here with you. I couldn't be happier."

"I'm happy too. I don't think I would make it if you had to leave." You brush back some curls that are hanging down in your face. "It was hard enough when I didn't speak to you for a week."

"That almost killed me."

"Yeah." You giggle and then suddenly you remember the other day. The conversation you overheard. "Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Anything." He noses at your neck and you pull his head back so he knows you're serious. "What's wrong?"

"I heard you and the guys talking the other night. You said you knew something but didn't want to tell me. Did I do something?"

"Oh. Oh no, no you didn't do anything." He chuckles and shakes his head. "We were talking about like...well...werewolves get this connection when we meet someone who is very compatible with us. It's like we form this bond that ties us to this person."

"A mate."

Peter flushes and clears his throat a bit. "Y-yeah. How'd you know?"

"Some of my friends back home were werewolves. It came up a few times."

"Oh thank goodness." He says, so relieved. "I was worried you'd not understand or freak out or something. That's why I didn't say anything before. I've known for a while that-"

"I'm your mate."

"Yes."

"And you're going to stay here for school."

"Mmhmm."

You grin big and grab his face in excitement. The feeling of knowing you're his mate, that you're going to be happy and have him by your side until the end of time is so overwhelming but exciting. "And I get to sleep with you every night and wake up to your mess of hair and your stupid sleepy smile every morning. I-I love you. Oh my God I love you."

Peter laughs a little and leans in to kiss you quickly. "I love you too."

"My Peter." You press your forehead to his. "My mate."

"And you're mine." He bumps his nose to yours. "Forever and always."

You close your eyes and smile. "Forever and always."

End

____________________

Thank you for reading this series! It’s been an incredible journey from start to finish. Thank you everyone who sent kind messages and asked questions and just was excited in general. Shout out to @shawnm521 @delicateshawn @planstonightbaby for your help and input through out this fic. I couldn’t do it with out you guys always listening to me ramble on about concepts.

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and reblog to support and encourage myself and fellow writers. - A

Custom header per part/overall made by the incredible delicateshawn

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#shawn mendes #raul mendes #peter mendes #shawn mendes triplets au #mendes triplets #mendes triplets au #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes au fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes words

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finsterhund · 5 years ago

Text

In today’s episode of “Finsterhund is a complete dumbass”

So you all know that my friend gave me a USB charging cable for my Nexus 5 (he thought it was high quality because it was metallicy braided and looked nice. It wasn’t him deliberately sabotaging me. That thing was expensive) Right?

And after two months of use the dang thing MELTED and charred black and warped the case of my phone and the usb charging port. Rendering it “really bad at charging properly,” right?

And it liked to melt charging cables until I wiped all the burnt charging cable out of it with rubbing alcohol, but even after you had to bend the cables around behind so that the pins connected, right?

And then we ordered a replacement for the charging port (a small ribbon board cable) off Amazon Prime (yuck. But bear with me) Right?

But the one that came was not like the photo (of the official part) and instead was a cheap (and on top of that secondhand) knockoff that I thought bricked my phone for two hours, right?

And my friend said he would send it back to get it replaced, right?

But he put it off because it wasn’t important because you can put that off for three months except it was my phone that I needed to use so it actually was important, right?

So anyways, today when we were going back from the doctor appointment we passed a phone repair shop and I begged to go because I’m sick of needing to tape the charging cord taut to the back of the phone just to get a charge.

So in there this guy is all “okay I can replace this part or you can just buy an entire Nexus 5 for thirty extra dollars”

And since I am full of pride (and embarrassment at needing to go to a place to fix it for me because I know exactly how to do it myself. I mean no disrespect to this guy. He’s working the EXACT JOB I’d be most suited for if I actually got a job if not for my inability to do things by myself and talk to people. I respect the hustle. I just feel a lot of shame for needing to be on the other side of things) and didn’t want to pay someone the service fee for something that at the time (because he didn’t know that part was removable) I thought I knew more about than he did, and because I was mad that the replacement part costed a fraction of the service price but I didn’t have it because my friend put that off, and because I was desperate, and because I stupidly thought that “thirty dollars isn’t that much money” Andy, that is three meals at McDonalds it MOST DEFINITELY IS a lot of money, I ended up buying the full Nexus 5. So now I have two Nexus 5s. My old one, and the “new” one. The logic was that $30 isn’t a lot (it is) and that my old phone had a messed up GPS and the mic didn’t work. (which is true)

The new one is white, and for some reason the designers of the Nexus 5 decided that because the phone was white it needed to have a white speaker in its BLACK screen. And it’s dirty. There was also damage to the screen, case, etc and it looks dirtier because: white. TLDR I loved my old phone better. Which makes sense because I bonded with it.

So I’m sitting here, cleaning the new phone, grossed out by the level of grime in the headphone jack, I use like 20 q-tips wiping it down with rubbing alcohol, and thinking “damn it why was I such a little baby and unable to swallow my pride and then have three McDonalds meals Andy you absolute dumbass.”

So I decided to just switch it out.

And... the mic worked...

on both of them...

Oh... oh no...

So that was a thing.

So now my black Nexus 5 (with the white Nexus 5 charging port) seems to be charging perfectly fine, and the mic is working.

And the white Nexus 5 (with the black Nexus 5 charging port) seems to be... charging a little bit better... (but I suspect it’s my brain playing tricks on me) and the mic is ALSO working.

So full disclosure that I am using a borrowed charging cable for my original Nexus 5 (now with the new charging port) and am using the same bent charging cable for the new Nexus 5 (with the old charging port) The new charging port charges normally, no messing with the cable. The old charging port requires the good old fashioned “bend it backwards painfully in order to connect the pins” trick.

So I feel like a complete idiot.

And now have three dated smartphones with issues. All of them released in Fall of 2013. A weird coincidence.

For reference the other is an iPhone 5 that I ran into the ground. Physically, its body is perfect. Screen? FLAWLESS. This was the first smartphone I ever had as a lower class brat who was always the last to get new tech. This was the most expensive thing I owned for a very long time and that shows. I also had to go through hell to get it. The only issue is that Apple intentionally bricks their old phones so now the little guy can’t hold a charge for the life of him. You ruined a perfectly good phone that I took good care of Apple! You nerfed my boy! I’ll never buy Apple products again!

So around the time when it became obvious that Apple had nerfed the older iPhones, my friend who got a Google Pixel gave me his old Nexus 5. And I IMMEDIATELY fell in love with it. It was bigger, I found it easier to transfer files, and I just liked it. Android felt cozier. I’m truly sorry. I took to it fairly quickly considering how hard it is for me to make the technology jump when it comes to operating systems and similar. My love and familiarity with Windows XP has been enough to prevent me from making the jump to Linux despite how much I resent Windows 10 and how it bricked a laptop of mine, but I went from iOS to Android in a matter of months.

The point being is I have a beloved old iPhone that can’t hold a charge anymore, a Nexus 5 that has been owned by at least two other people (my friend got it secondhand) and then it stopped working correctly because a charging cable melted it.

My friend told me to just get a new phone, but I told him I didn’t want to spend $500 on a Google Pixel when I was perfectly happy with my Nexus 5.

He then let me know that a Google Pixel is actually $900 which pretty much confirmed that I would never get one.

In the end, this second Nexus 5 was under $100. Which is a far cry from $900, and the likely almost as high cost of other new phones. I feel stupid for just not getting the replacement part, but at least I have a second in case anything happens to it.

*shrugs sadly*

I’m not hurting for money this month so it just means no spending hundreds on commissions. I’m sad that I will put off commissions again, as I did promise artists at the convention two months ago, but money is tight and everyone should understand that.

I feel better that my phone has been secured, but anxious that when I buy a new cord it’s just going to melt the charging port again. Apparently cheap USB cables will do that to a Nexus 5? I’ve been through like three before that and it’s never happened so I guess it was just THIS one. The evil cord from 7 Eleven. (why would you betray me 7 Eleven!!?? WHY!?) so I’ll be buying branded cables in the future.

#text post #long post #negative

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mylifeatwar · 6 years ago

Photo

Book 2, Chapter 2, Page 3

Archived Text Follows:

It’s still not midnight in my timezone yet so this page totally counts as being on time! In all seriousness though, Matt had this page done hours ago but I was kind of in the middle of a tattoo session and wasn’t really available to post it. That’s on me, not him

I really love this fucking page by the way, especially the shading in panel 2. There’s also some great foreshadowing here, but I’ll let you folks find it yourselves.

Something that Matt and I were joking about recently was language and accents in the MLaW verse. While the language that Free Marketeers is essentially supposed to be English (though they call it Treadspake) the accent is pretty different. It took me forever to find but here’s an example of what someone with a heavy Free Market accent sounds like to someone who doesn’t speak Treadspake.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qa-lmcdlq4A&list=FLWEkhqIkBE080OHhK-mC85g&index=1

You can already imagine how that colors most people’s perception of the average Free Marketeer.

Thanks for reading!

– Luther out

Comment Text Follows:

lhsc - Oh ho, Lulu is going to defend her favorite asset. Always bet on the Lulu.

Gillsing - So Free Marketeers aren’t big on enunciation, huh? I guess I’d need to hire a translator to understand them then. Oh. I see what they did there.

Killercow - BOP DAP BOODLY DAP DAU. Also, is lulu like, majorly huge? She looks at least a foot taller than the guy next to her, and she’s taller than Big Al by quite a bit.

plaintextman - Yeah, mista Patenge mentioned it during the long-winded discussion started around chapter 1’s cover: http://www.mylifeatwar.com/?p=26“ Lulubelle merely appears at a normal height because she’s been shown standing next to Captain Theroux, who is a very… very large ogre of a man. We made them this way as a response to the mecha genre being full of diminutive female characters, most often relegated to a non-combat role who spend way too much of their time stating everything they feel.” And MLAW is slowly but surely defying that “softy women” trope more and more (without — so far — overdoing it).

Mr. Patenge - Lulu-Belle (and her friend Missy) are around 6’3″. It’s all those chemicals and hormones in the milk man… also in the soda, the water, the coffee the air, the beer and, for some reason, the toilet paper.

Killercow - I gotta get me some of that toilet paper! Being 6’4 without, I’d probably be a freaky giant!

Iarei - Dat reflection.

Grudgesettler - Fridge with legs versus Lulubelle. Taking all bets, remember the house charges a 15% gratuity from all proceeds. A question, if I may. This one is regarding the competitive nature of the Free Market and their attitudes towards monopolies. From your answer regarding an earlier question about the util, I gather that for the most part, monopolies are disliked. My question is this: what guarantees the continuation of this competition instead of the eventual creation of a series of monopolies? I suspect that the Free Market doesn’t have much in the way of Anti-trust laws. Excellent page. I especially love the perspective shot in the second frame.

Zarpaulus - Three words: Mega-fun food inc. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence that they do a thing to prevent monopolies, real life economic Libertarians don’t so why would fictional ones?

rfaramir - You don’t have to fight monopolies, so long as you have no State which can grant one. So-called “natural monopolies” are rare and not a problem to the free market. Think of a one-of-a-kind mineral mine. Consumers did fine before the mine was discovered, life got better when it’s otherwise-unobtanium made production more efficient, but if the price goes too high, the free market will work at creating alternatives or doing without, going back to previous production modes without the others-unobtainable substance. Potential competition keeps monopolists from charging truly damaging monopoly prices.

Iarei - That simply is not true. You’re drawing an imaginary line in the sand between ‘monopoly’ and ‘dictatorship’ that does not exist. “A government is a body of people, usually notably ungoverned”. In any hypothetical ungoverned free market, the most powerful monopoly necessarily assumes the role of governance. You’ve heard of ‘company stores’ right? Any barrier to entry for competition that exists under a corrupt government is going to exist in a free market system. The only difference is that the company wouldn’t need to bribe any politicians. A question was raised earlier in this comic – “How can Fizziz stay in business if their product is both foul and poisonous”. If you’ve been paying attention here you should already know the answer.

Killercow - No, it tends to be governments that aid monopolies. In a perfectly free market, in theory, a monopoly can’t hold any power because as soon as the price becomes too dear, another company can come and offer competition at a lower price. These are opportunistic people, who would jump at a chance to undercut a company that was being a little too excessive with their prices for their worth, and without a government to aid in forcing opposition out of business, or breaking strikes and such, monopolies would be much harder to obtain. Not impossible, but extremely difficult. For example, look at the role the security contractors play. On one page it is mentioned that Mega Fun Foods is subsidizing their losses to keep them fighting, and it is mentioned that “Few enough companies can do our job”. While they don’t hold a monopoly, because of the couple of other security companies, which keep them from overcharging, they are a specialized and presumably expensive commodity. They have skills that are rare and useful, and charge more for it. But even those skills are not unique to one company. As for Fizziz, I think that was supposed to be more of a joke than a serious commentary on monopoly, but it may have also been something else, like it has a niche market of… I don’t know, horse pee lovers or something. Or it might be an acquired taste. Or maybe they used to offer good products and now people just blindly buy the brand.

Iarei - Monopolies help themselves, they don’t need a government to do so. All they need is thugs they can pay to shoot anyone not working the line or a sufficiently high barrier to entry. What magic power do you think you have over a monopoly that you don’t have over a government? A working government acts as a check against monopolies. Like, the government that’s literally fighting a monopoly owned mercenary company in this comic? The comic you’re reading? As far as monopolies you might be familiar with go, how about your ISP? If you live in the US I can all but guarantee you you’re overpaying. That’s in a country where the government nominally has legislation intended to prevent monopolies. In this example, it has nothing to do with the government, it has to do with the fact that those companies are better off ripping off the customers in their respective fiefdoms than expanding their infrastructure into areas with competing services with competitive rates. What do you think would happen if your gas, electricity or water were held by a private entity that could set it’s own prices? I’m sure some competing company can come out of nowhere and set up competing utility lines, right? Free market magic, goo! I’m sure you can find your own solution when prices for necessities become to prohibitive, right? Want a drink of water? Hope your rain barrel’s full or you’ll be buying from T. Boone Pickens. Oh no your house is on fire? Don’t worry, Marcus Licinius Crassus is here to help! Someone’s robing your house? Store? Did you pay your protection fund? Oh, and while this is getting beside the point remember that without a government there’s no regulation on things like ‘can that company dump toxic waste in my river’ or ‘can that company sweeten it’s drinks with lead acetate’. Is our governments perfect? Are they even moderately close to good? No, probably not. It still beats the ever living hell out the alternative.

Plaintextman - Remember that regulations like ‘minimum wage’ and ‘standard bread price’ come from governments. These are made to keep monopolies in check, or rather, to effectively grant the common man some power over companies, in turn evening out the concentration of power. However, also true that insane-level OHSA requirements, government-tendered projects to large companies and overtly strict permit regulations are all government-implemented things that can make it hard if not impossible for small players to get in the game, thus supressing competition. So yeah, it’s not really so much a question of whether there is a formal government or not. More a question of how those in power act, for they are the ‘government’. And this is ultimately determined by what kind of rights (formal and de facto) the common man is granted. Do you have the right to shop somewhere else without fear for your life? The right to your own property? Freedom of speech? I love the idea of free markets. They’ve been so successful over the centuries because of that awesome self-correcting mechanism of ‘competition’; just about every city ever had a market place where businesses could offer and compete, much more than can be said of less natural systems like communism. But “total objective freedom” doesn’t really exist, so no market can be truly “free”. Illegal (drug-) industry is example of an ‘anarcho-capitalist free market’ environment that’s also extremely unfriendly to just about everyone except those in power. And the reason why boils down to how uncaring those in power (“government”) are and how little power the common person (consumer) it given: as long as they pay nobody really gives a shit about them. And if they stop paying by say, buying from a cheaper supplier, they might as well die along with that supplier.

motorfirebox - I like the tan lines.

#comic #webcomic #boxing

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professionalgrowth-julia · 4 years ago

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Negotiation Skills by Chris Croft

Why we avoid negotiating?

Culture - In countries like UK & US, they do not really negotiate and assume it’s rude

Unstructured - No rules, high level of uncertainty & fear of rejection

Embarrassment - Fear of looking cheap or greedy especially after the other party rejects. Wanting to be liked is the biggest factor

How to overcome embarrassment and pride?

Think of negotiating as a game - offer a lower price, see what happens!

Why you shouldn’t lie while negotiating?

You don’t know how much they know

You might get caught lying

Body language gives you away - especially the human eye and brain. Signs: touching nose or face, too little or too much eye contact, going red, sweating, shuffling around

It becomes more difficult to maneuver - getting tangled up in your own lies

5 Alternatives of lying (or becoming evasive)

Use feelings “I just don’t feel very happy with paying that much”

“I dont know...”

“I’m not allowed to say....”

“You don’t think I’m gonna tell you that do you?”

“It depends” - favourite to find out more!

Fear of losing the deal

There is only 2 ways it happens - either you walk away or they walk away.

If you walk away. The key with YOU walking (or pretending to walk) away is to be prepared to “crumble”. Quite often, you may actually get an unexpected “Yes”.

If they walk away. It will not happen if you are nice but the strategy is to blame it on yourself. You can always reel them back in if they are about to walk away by saying “I am sure we are able to find a deal somehow!”

When you should negotiate

An offer is made right at the start - shows their keenness to sell it. If you begin to negotiate with numbers, the bad thing is that it leaves no other room for negotiation and you have to buy it if agreed upon. Instead: Seller: How about I give you a 10% off? You: Hmm. Can you reduce it any more than that?

The item is on sale - similar to them making an offer from the start. Just because they are reduced, it is all the more a reason not to pay the price

If the manager is present - it is an invitation to haggle

If you are not a 100% keen - product/service is not perfect or you are not ready yet. Make an outrageous offer, you have nothing to lost

You have other options - one really good alternative makes you much stronger because you can go to your other option.

When you are the seller & the customer wants something more - charge a small fee instead of giving it for free as a goodwill so that customers will not take it for granted

When you have a complaint - most of us will just put up with it/give a bad review. But you can get something else by saying you are unhappy with what happened and you’d be happy if something else gets done instead. But remember to be nice & get them to be on your side “I know it’s not your fault that this happens, but what I want is....”

Your walkaway number is your strong point

If you are willing to pay $5,000 for a $7,000 holiday and the seller has reduced the price to $5,010 you should NOT accept it. Why?

Logical - Why would you buy or sell something that is less that its worth to you?

Emotional - When you set a limit, you will often go past it. Walk away to maintain your mental strength.

Before you negotiate you need to set....

As a buyer:

Limit - the highest number you will go to

Opening offer - lower number/optimistic attempt to get a bargain

As a seller:

Limit - lowest you’ll sell for

Opening offer - high number/great profit

While the opening offer is externally based i.e. based on market and demand, your limit is internally based and should be set before you see the price. If not careful, your limit will become affected by the going rate/market rate.

Tradables - other things that price

Includes some physical aspects of the product or valuable aspect of a service that contain a certain benefit. Be sure to prepare a list of tradables - add or reduce according to the price offered.

Advantages:

You get the tradables you want

Get a better price - give them tradables instead of money.

Don’t look weak - “I can come down the price if you give me X”

It stops them pushing you down repeatedly

Look reasonable - justifying reduction/increase in price

Questions for Tradables:

What do I want?

What do they want?

What can I offer?

What would they offer?

Prepare their weakness

Focus on the other person’s weakness during the negotiation.

As a buyer:

Don’t think: I must buy this no matter what at any price Instead, think: I bet they are desperate to sell it

As a seller:

Don’t think: I must sell this product no matter what price at Instead, think: I bet they are desperate to buy this, they are just trying to get me to come down in price, but I bet they can pay the full amount if they have to

The Preamble

There is no rush, you would like to wait for them to open. Ask loads of questions and listen - this is where you will get their weaknesses. However, in some situations you will have to open first i.e. in a shop or a market. Reasons to avoid opening

If they open first, it may be more beneficial - if they are buying, they may say how much they are willing to spend

If you open first, it’s riskier - you may be pricing it much lower than what they wanted to pay for

You get key information from their opening offer

What if they ask you to open first? Chuck it back to them, at least once:

I’m not sure, what do you think?

What do you mean by a good price?

Do you have a budget in mind?

Opening offer

Your opening offer should exceed what you are hoping for.

As a buyer: low number

As a seller: high number

Seller does not know how much you are willing to pay, hence the only way is to open higher. If you think a customer is willing to pay $75 to $120, you will have to offer more than $120 (opening offer: $150).

Watch for the flinch

English flinch: intake of breath, looking unhappy, turning away, words of disappointment, putting pen down

As a buyer:

Always flinch as soon as the other party makes the opening offer

Saying nothing always send the signal that you are happy - not the signal you want to send

As a seller:

Watch for the flinch if there is one. If there isn’t, don’t move from your starting position

Don’t use round numbers

Nonround number make your negotiation figures more credible - 4s & 7s are the best numbers

Tactic #1 The vice technique

Usually used by buyers.

As a buyer:

Do not say: “If you lower it a little more I will buy it from you” because the aim is to get the price down as much as possible

“It’s still too much for me I’m afraid, I can only afford X”

“Could you lower it a little bit more?”

As a seller:

“By how much exactly?” and once they have put a number (opening offer)

“Oh no, I can’t possibly do that, but if you gave me Y i guess I could come down to X” where Y are tradables & X is a price

Tactic #2 Knocking the product

Usually used by buyers.

As a buyer:

“It’s not quite the colour I’m looking for”

“It’s a bit different from what we normally use”

If they say “In that case, why are you still looking at it?” you can say “I was hoping that seeing it in real life it would be okay, but I am not quite sure”

As a seller:

“That’s is the reason why the price is so reasonable/affordable/such a bargain”

Tell yourself that they actually love the colour, if you hold firm they will pay the price

Body language: touching the product excessively, smiling, happy with the product

“What do you think about it apart from that” if they say “It’s great apart from that”, stick to your price or the first point

Tactic #3 The reluctant buyer/seller

Works well for both buyer & seller

As a buyer:

“I don’t really want to buy but okay then, if the price is really attractive”

As a seller:

Pretend that something is filled up i.e. schedule, occupancy, etc

Pretend that it is your favourite thing in a shop, and you can’t part with it

Tactic #4 Hiding the value of tradables

Mainly for buyer.

As a buyer:

If you want something, pretend you don’t want it and vice versa

Instead of saying “WOW I really want this”, say: “What colours do you have?” and then “Hmm, this is not ideal but I guess the red one will do if the price is good”

Do not blurt out your requirement right away, Never say “I will need it by the end of the week” instead say “When can i have it?”

Save requirements for the middle/end of negotiation, make it casual

Tactic #4 The salami

Works well for both buyer & seller

As a buyer:

Ask for things gradually in a way it makes it seem unreasonable for them not to give you

As a seller:

Counterattack - trade one thing for another

Counterattack - on a completely different front (this may require planning)

Take everything off the table - “I just need 5 minutes to check with my boss” and after “I realised that this deal is no longer working for me. I can’t give you all the things that we have just been discussing”

Tactic #5 Time pressure

Works well for both buyer & seller. Here are the 3 types:

How much time to meet or discuss?

When must you make the agreement?

When are the tradables needed by?

Don’t let the party know that you have a time pressure. Sometimes, time is more important than the price & deal is not the one that they need but the job to be done. Look for clues of others’ weaknesses while hiding yours.

Win-win situations

It is about tradables as buyer is buying something that they are happy with and the seller is making a profit.

How to trade?

Start you negotiation with room for maneuver - setting a lower price limit (if buyer) or a higher price limit (if seller)

Getting from start to finish

Concede

Trading - always better because: (1) Conceding makes you look weak, (2) You may gain by trading & (3) You have a reason to adjusting the price point The words are important: “If you..... then I......”

Use small steps

If someone reduce a price by a certain amount, they will likely come down by another of that same amount. Instead move in small amounts with tradables that does not cost you much, as many as necessary to get you that agreement. Move from your trading point and upwards, not from their price and downwards

Importance of trading

Negotiation tips

Be prepared for everything

Remain nice

Trade from your starting position

Always be prepared - you never know what’s going to happen

Don’t give up!

Negotiation errors

Coming down too much

Not persisting

Using round numbers

Not being polite

Failing to trade

Closing

Waffling out of “Final Offer”

Never say “That is my final offer” instead, say “I can’t go lower or higher, I really can’t”

If they say “And that’s my final offer”, you can propose tradables to finalise the deal

Split the difference

Do not accept splitting the difference by saying “I just can’t go over/below X”

Most of the time the person who is making this offer is willing to accede to the other party’s request, but giving it one last go

But if (unlikely) they say “then the deal’s off”, you can reel them back in by saying “Hmm... how about meeting in the middle?”

You have officially gotten a better deal than split the difference

The nibble

When the other person asks for something in the end and you say okay

Most of the times, it happens after you have agreed on the deal

And you should not say yes, imply that there is an extra cost to it

Follow the nibble rules

Say no

Halfway through ask about any other potential costs

The quivering pen

Similar to the nibble, but you ask before the deal is signed

Style has to be friendly and cheeky

If used on you, stay strong and do not concede. Something like “Oh no, sorry I can’t really give you anymore. This really is the best deal”

If they say “Deal’s off” reel them back in saying “I’m sure we’ll find a way, we’ve come this far. It’s a shame to give it all up now”, and “Maybe if you give me X, i can agree to this one more thing you’re asking for”

When should you walk away?

When you have no trading options left, either

Buy up (for buyers)

Reduce your price (for sellers)

Walk away

Know your walkaway point

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ginnyzero · 5 years ago

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The Body Positivity Movement

Or the Ashley Graham Effect.

Recently, Ashely Graham went undercover on Undercover Boss: Celebrity Edition, in order to help out some deserving people she’d found through social media that were plus sized and wanted to be models, run non-profits and do dance. And I’ll be honest, I don’t watch a lot of Undercover Boss, in fact the last one I watched was the Bridal Store episode, you know, the Bridal chain that has subsequently filed for bankruptcy and gone out of business. Most of the episodes don’t interest me.

Watching Ashley Graham go undercover into the fashion world was a cringe worthy experience. She knew what she was getting into. She knew exactly what she was getting into and she still (hopefully mostly for the cameras) got a bit cheesed off. I admire her grit and tenacity and applaud what she’s doing, even if it’s a big disingenuous for her to be going on something titled “Undercover Boss.” Because the open call she went to at the model agency, she didn’t own that modelling agency. She couldn’t walk back in and rip that guy with the European accent a new one about representation and that’s not the way we do things here. Not in 2018.

Ashley Graham is at most a major influencer (she’s been on Top Model, they’ve made her into a Barbie and so on.) The most that showing that on National Television will do is hopefully shame that agency into rethinking their policies. Because that agency and that policy of not hiring plus sized models is the normal and not the exception.

Being a “body positive” or “body inclusive” company has been more of a marketing campaign for a long time. (Does anyone else remember that Dove soap campaign?) Rather than companies trying to honestly and realistically include and embrace a large group of people as their customers. Instead, they’ve been focusing on the small side of dead center. (Petite being another major ignored group of people. And if you’re plus sized and petite, yeah, um, you don’t exist to the fashion world.)

It’s hard for me to take this “movement” seriously when I get texts from my best friend about not being able to find clothes that fit at popular middle priced chain stores. I see it as a gimmick when it only brings up “embracing” every size instead of also pointing out there may be underlying causes to “every size” such as PCOS. When I know the reasons that brands aren’t “inclusive” because of numbers on a spread sheet.

The biggest cringe is that this has been going on for decades, in fact, we’re getting close to 50 years since Twiggy became a popular super model and changed the way designers and magazines thought about how fashion was presented on the runway and in fashion images. This isn’t the first time that the idea that designers don’t know how to work with normal or plus sized people has been exposed on public television. It’s been shown repeatedly on Project Runway and all other fashion programs like it. It’s been going on in America’s Next Top Model. And we’re finally, after over a decade of this, making some headway that models being 5 foot 11 and a standard size 6 is not healthy.

(I’m 5’2” and a standard size 4 on top and a 6 on bottom and let me tell you, I don’t always feel healthy! I’ve been mistaken for a model plenty of times and I go, “uh, I’m 5’2”, far too short. Sorry.)

My first real experience with this that sank in was over a decade ago now when I went to the Academy of Art and took my second Fashion Business class. (I had one at Bluffton Uni and it wasn’t named the same thing so I had to waste 3 hours of credit time and take it again.) Bluffton was a Mennonite small country college. Most the girls there were from Middle Class Christian Homes. (Yes, that’s all caps.) Going to the Academy, I met a completely different class of people. We were asked 2 questions that stuck out to me. One was “What is the STANDARD average size of the American consumer?” And the second was “Does anyone know what NASCAR is?” (This was around Cars so there was and wasn’t an excuse.) I knew the answer, second class after all (the first class at least wasn’t so far off in guesses,) the other girls didn’t and they didn’t know what NASCAR was either. The answer, over a decade ago was a standard size 12, btw. We are probably up to a standard size 16 for average, maybe an 18.

Marilyn Monroe was a standard size 12. I’m talking US standard 34, 27, 36 Bust, Waist, Hips in INCHES. (That’s 97, 69, 93 for you metric people.) The US does their sizing by 5cm increments, Europe by 4 to 6cm increments. But regular people don’t really fit these pretty measurements. They’re usually bigger on bottom than they are on top and thus a different size. (Despite all sizing done for brands being done to your BUST measurement. Funsies huh.)

Being from an upper middle class home in the middle of Upstate New York where the only more “country” you can get is to either a) live in a trailer park or b) live in the middle of nowhere. I was the ONLY one in that class to know what NASCAR was because that was Sunday afternoon for most my neighbors and my father’s friends. (And football, let’s not forget football. Then there’s hunting, snowmobiling and… fishing.)

My point is that a lot of fashion students and many fashion designers have no clue at all about the average American consumer and fashion programs are not engineered, designed or even remotely plugged into educating designers on how to design clothes for the “average” market. Despite the lip service to “average” size in my fashion business class. (Blocks were made to standard size 8, probably would have to redo them for size 6 later. Croqui fashion sketches were 9 heads tall and very thin with broad shoulders and no hips.) They’re isolated either by income class or being so down the rabbit hole of fashion magazines and imagery, they’ve lost sight of our Wal-Mart and Target standard consumer if they knew it to begin with! (Oh, Paris Hilton.) And if you want to see this in action watch any episode of Project Runway that involves “real women” and prepare to whimper or scream at the television.

People like Christine Hunsicker who started Gwynnie Bee that has clothes from size 10 to 32 (and now 0 to 32) are rare in the fashion industry. She’s fulfilling a niche that is grossly under served. Seeing her on PR: Fashion Startup was a breath of fresh air. When Project Runway put models of all sizes into the program, it was overdue! (Thank you Tim Gunn!) And the reactions to All Stars that was filmed at the same time, aired after that model inclusive normal seasons and didn’t have models of all sizes was telling. Viewers wanted to know why Project Runway looked like they were taking a step backwards.

Which was great, it was really great to see that reaction. It was amazing to see how much the audiences loved the different sized models.

(PR:AS weren’t, it’s just television fantasy that made them think that because of how filming a show works. No one at Project Runway was certain how the all sizes of models was going to work out with general audiences. They wanted a test run to see how ratings would do. Now, it's moving back to Bravo with the original producers for 2019. Fingers crossed!)

Back in the 1950s, when Marilyn Monroe was popular, fashion models were closer to Victoria Secret sized models than Twiggy (of late 1960s and of the 1970s fame.) Yes, the styles of the 50s did emphasize larger proportions more if not balanced correctly. But everyone wanted to be size 12 and have curves. And yeah, this is coming back and it’s a good thing. Being healthy, having realistic proportions, less photoshopping, less unrealistic expectations on both girls and boys. I am down with that.

The sad part is now, 50 years later, size 12, yes, TWELVE is considered “plus size” and thus, an entirely different fashion market than regular clothes. (Though some of this is due to vanity sizing and not standard sizing.) Many brands don’t want to go into plus sized clothing because it’s a huge material expense, despite the fact that if they provided cute, fashionable clothes to the plus sized market at a decent quality, they’d have a huge customer base.

(Clothing quality is going to be another blog post sometime. I hear this complaint a lot.)

Designers are going to have to be retrained. Design programs are going to have to be changed. Fashion drawing is going to have to be adjusted. Thinking that models are walking hangars that clothes are ‘displayed’ on is a mindset that’s going to have to go.

Runways were originally displays for buyers to see how the clothes would look on real people, real consumers. The ones that shopped at their stores. (So, you see now how attitudes like those of the CEO of Aeropostale and Abercrombie & Fitch started.)

I’m happy for the people Ashley Graham helped. I’m glad that we have models like Ashley Graham and that we have things such as Full Figured Fashion Week. I’ll be even happier when we stop making these false dichotomies and embrace every one of every size and don’t have “ideal looks/customers” related to size and skin color and just have “customers.” When models of all shapes, sizes and skin tones walk down every catwalk and we see it as normal that’s probably a fashion utopia.

Because right now it still feels like a marketing gimmick and that is beyond sad.

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yourcertainstudentlight-blog · 6 years ago

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How to get best fair settlement from car insurance company for 1996 corolla?

"How to get best fair settlement from car insurance company for 1996 corolla?

Hi: My 1996 toyota corolla was hit by another car in the rear on the passenger side. My car was in excellent condition, everything worked, nothing broken, no rust (paint in excellent condition as it is always in my garage at home or in a covered parking lot at my workplace), low mileage (130K), never had a problem and I am the original, sole owner and driver of the car. I was planning to keep driving it for years to come. Now the insurance company wants to total my car and what they are offering for my car /their initial proposed settlement of $3500is not nearly enough to buy another car in the same excellent, safe and reliable condition, that is not riddled with hidden problems. This presents a big problem for me as, if I cannot have my car fixed and restored to the same condition as before the crash, I would have to come up with at least $12K to $15K to buy another new safe, reliable economy car. This is an expense that was not in my plans. Also, the insurance company is pushing me to make a hasty decision and is threatening me with not paying for the car rental I needed to get (since my car cannot be driven as the tail light is broken and and rain would get in the car). Is there any way that the insurance company can be prevented from totaling my car and instead pay for properly fixing the car with good OEM parts instead of used (LKQ) parts. I got several estimates, two for around $5K and one for around $7K (this one is from an excellent body shop that has done excellent work on my other previous cars before). The insurance company provided and estimate for $4k using used/LKQ parts. I would appreciate any advice on how to get the best settlement from the insurance company.

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