#square filled: free space - nesting

[sapphireginger]

Title: Heart of a Hero: Chapter #2

Pairing: Steo [Stiles Stilinski + Theo Raeken]

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings:

Blood & Injury Gunshot Wound Recovery Feral Character & Feral Behavior Hospitals

Full AO3 Link

Summary:

“How bad is it?” the alpha asks. He has to fight not to push past the doctor to get to his family, but he resists the urge for the moment because he needs to know.

“I don’t know what all you’re aware of, Alpha Stilinski-Raeken but your son suffered a gunshot wound to the stomach. We had to give him a blood transfusion as he had lost too much blood. There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s a miracle that he’s alive.”

Theo tilts his head. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Created For: @afgomegaversebingo​ / Square Filled: Free Space - Nesting

When Theo shows up at the hospital, frantically searching for his mate, Isaac informs him of everything as quickly as he can. The curly haired beta doesn’t notice the small flecks of blood on Theo’s uniform.

“Lydia called me and said she has Leo. Allison still has Laiken but Luka…” Isaac trails off, swallowing with a click. “Luka was shot, Theo.”

The alpha’s eyes flash and he has to take several deep breaths to remain calm. “And Stiles?”

Isaac winces and looks bereft. “He’s with Luka.” Before Theo could press further, Isaac gently rests a hand on the alpha’s arm. “He’s feral, Theo.”

Theo’s heart clenches in agony at the news. He can’t lose his son or his mate. “Is there any word on the shooter?” he snarls.

“Dead,” Isaac replies with a satisfied expression on his face. “I don’t know how but I thank fuck, or I’d kill the guy myself.”

“No. He was mine to kill.”

The statement and the way it was said, has realization washing over the beta. Isaac nods his approval at the alpha’s admission that it was he who killed the shooter. Isaac definitely wants to know more but they can’t discuss it now.

A doctor makes her way over to them and offers a gentle smile. “Mr. Raeken?” she says.

Theo’s jaw creaks with how hard he clenches his teeth together. “Stilinski-Raeken.”

The woman looks at the file a bit guiltily. “Ah. Yes. My apologies. My name is Doctor Brent. I am here to speak with you about your son, Lukanus and your mate, Mr. Mieczyslaw Stilinski-Raken.”

“How bad is it?” the alpha asks. He has to fight not to push past the doctor to get to his family, but he resists the urge for the moment because he needs to know. 

“I don’t know what all you’re aware of, Alpha Stilinski-Raeken but your son suffered a gunshot wound to the stomach. We had to give him a blood transfusion as he had lost too much blood. There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s a miracle that he’s alive.”

Theo tilts his head. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Doctor Brent clears her throat. “When treating your son, we noticed a bite mark on his arm. Your mate is an omega. Correct?”

“Yes,” Theo says, confused why that would matter. 

Seeing his confusion, she elaborates. “Omegas have the ability to save a life using what’s known as an omega bite. It is so rare we hardly ever see it but your mate gave that bite to your son, and that is the only reason he survived long enough to get the transfusions. With complete transparency I can tell you that he didn’t need as much blood as we were expecting either.” She has something akin to awe in her voice and Isaac understands the feeling. 

“I saw it, Theo.” Isaac has a gentle smile on his face when the alpha looks at him. “It was…” he trails off. “I can’t even describe it. Stiles just knew and did it without hesitation.”

Theo puffs out his chest in pride. “My brave perfect omega.” He turns to look at the doctor. “Where are they?”

Doctor Brent gestures for him to follow her. “We have them here in room 0706. Please remember that your son has lost a lot of blood and what you’ll see is only temporary. He’ll be okay with some rest and rehydration.”

With a nod of understanding, Theo turns towards the door. His hands are sweaty, and his mouth is dry. Isaac’s gentle grip on the alpha’s shoulder grounds Theo as he slowly opens the door.

There are machines beeping and the sound of oxygen pumping but other than that, it’s eerily silent. At least it is until Theo steps into the room.

His eyes alight on his son who is pale against the sheets, and he only halts his approach when a low growl echoes from the bed as well. 

Stiles snarls at Theo in warning, almost as if he doesn’t recognize the alpha. All he knows is his pup nearly died and he is omega feral. His eyes repeatedly flash in warning, the snarl never cutting off. 

Theo has to resist the urge to flash his eyes at his mate and demand submission. He knows Stiles can’t help it. It breaks his heart to see the shape his son is in, and it is painful to see the state of his omega.

The omega’s eyes are solidly glowing. His claws are still out, and his fangs glint dangerously in the low light of the room. Theo is stunned at the sight of ears poking out the top of Stiles’s head. The partial omega shift is another phenomenon similar to the omega bite. It’s rare and despite the pain of everything, Theo can’t help but feel proud that this is his omega. 

Exaggeratingly telegraphing his movements so as not to incur the omega’s fight instincts, Theo steps further into the room. When Stiles still snarls but cocks his head slightly, Theo feels a burst of hope in his chest. There are legends of omegas who go feral at the loss of a child and never come back to themselves even with their mates trying everything to get through to them. 

The alpha spares a very concerned thought for their unborn pup but pushes that down. The last thing Stiles needs is the alpha’s worried chemosignals invading his already overstimulated senses. 

He doesn’t go any closer and it seems to please the omega who slowly untenses, but Theo isn’t fooled. Stiles is still ready to defend his pup. So, in an effort to offer comfort and familiarity to his mate, Theo begins to softly sing. He sings a song that only he and Stiles know, and the song is one that Stiles always sings to their children, just like his mother had done for him.

Distant moon, so big and bright    Softest silver glowing through the night    High atop, the mountain gold    Sun unseen, the world is cold

Here I wait, and here I stand    Early morning northern hour hand    Studying, in solitude    Looking for a hidden clue

I wish to see this world through my own eyes    To calm the elders and silence their cries    Because of you, I now gaze up and sing    The lullaby of the moon

Found at last, I steal away    Moving faster through the silent shade    Sea of stars, like flowers bloom    Looking for the hidden tomb

The way Stiles’s body starts to grow more pliant and the way he purrs, eases Theo’s worries. They’re going to be just fine. 

»•»🔥«•« »•»🚑«•«

It’s day three, and Luka is still in an induced coma. Stiles won’t leave his side and Theo is the only one who is allowed to get close to the omega and the pup. Every night Theo will sing the lullaby and sometimes Stiles will just look at him and Theo just knows. So, he’ll sing it again and watch how it settles his mate. 

He can only do so much though and by day five doctors are noticing that the omega is still increasingly agitated. They grow concerned about his mental state with the distressed sounds he keeps letting out the longer his son is in an induced coma. Eventually they decide they have to intervene. 

Theo snarls. “Just wait a minute. Our pup was shot! You can’t expect him to just let that go. He’s an omega!”

Doctor Brent raises her hands placatingly, and all three doctors take a step back. 

Nodding, Theo turns to look at his mate. “Hi, Little Fox.”

Stiles perks up, his ears swiveling slowly. He purrs softly in inquiry.

Theo smiles. “Can you come here, sweet thing? Come to your alpha, my good omega.”

Like a siren’s call, the omega slowly, though still cautious and skittish, pads over to his alpha.

The alpha is relieved he is able to coax his mate closer and gently grips the back of Stiles neck. He smiles softly as the omega purrs, looking at Theo with hazy eyes. Stiles hasn’t spoken since arriving at the hospital or even longer according to Isaac but the look in his eyes is one Theo knows well. So, he places a kiss on the omega’s forehead, chuckling softly when his mate chases his lips for a proper kiss. Well, it’s less of a proper kiss and more of a slobbery one but Theo couldn’t care less and returns it. “So sweet for me my little fox.”

Stiles purrs and almost preens, making Theo feel even more hopeful that his mate will come back to him. Then Stiles’s attention shifts to their son, and he lets out a soft whimper. His request is evident when he looks at his alpha. 

Theo, with a nod, releases his mate and turns to the doctors. “He needs to feel safe, and he needs to nest. That can’t happen here. Is there a way we can continue Luka’s care on our own?”

The doctors are not happy about it, but they all know enough about omegas to understand the benefits to the young pup. Therefore, knowing nesting instincts will in fact settle the omega more, they set about a treatment plan. 

»•»🔥«•« »•»🚑«•«

They decide to send a nurse, named Eliza, with the family to get them set up. She doesn’t make it past the fence of their yard, which means Theo feels quite smug. Did the doctors really think an omega would let a stranger near their son? 

Stiles has Luka in his arms and Leo, whom they managed to pick up from Lydia, is on the omega’s back. Stiles carries them inside and sniffs, deeming it safe but not yet where he wants to be. Stiles wanders away from the front door with an obvious destination in mind. 

Theo has a feeling about where his mate will go and only watches him for a minute or two. It’s important that the alpha lets his mate be for now. No one should interfere with nest making. So, the alpha heads to the kitchen to make something for them all to eat. He can hear shuffling and soft growls below him. It looks like he was right about where his mate would go.

Sure enough, when Theo goes into the basement, with several bottles of cool water in his arms and leaving the snacks in the fridge for later, he’s not surprised at what he finds. His sweet omega has already surrounded and filled the deep closet with clothes, bedding, fabric and toys. The scent of the two mates and their pups floods the alpha’s senses and he rumbles, pleased with his omega.

Stiles blinks up at him and preens at the approval of his alpha and mate. A small smile, full of fangs, adorns the omega’s face and Theo realizes he’s that much closer to having his mate back. Little by little, he’s coaxing Stiles’s humanity back out.

“You did so good, my sweet omega,” Theo says softly. 

The omega preens again and purrs loudly when Theo offers his own shirt off his back to add to the nest. The alpha can’t enter unless Stiles deems his offering sufficient. So, he is relieved when the omega accepts it. 

The alpha slips into the nest, setting the bottles to the side and curls around his mate who is curled around their eldest son. Luka is doing better already. 

It makes Theo angry with the doctors. For all that they are acclaimed and renowned, they focus way too much on science. This means they completely ignore instincts. Stiles needs his pups safe, and he needs to nest. Omegas have soothing, healing and grounding pheromones. Already, the too pale skin of their eldest begins to return to its normal tone.

»•»🔥«•« »•»🚑«•«

Isaac brings Stiles and Theo's youngest child home shortly after dinner time. Theo has managed to get his omega to eat, and they even got food into Luka. Leo is asleep again and Theo was only able to get him awake long enough to nibble. None of them are very hungry but the alpha makes sure they eat something and that they drink lots of water. 

Laiken wiggles in Isaac’s arms as he’s held out to his daddy. Stiles snatches his pup from his best friend and scents him with a soft rumbling growl. Once the baby’s head is on Stiles’s chest, it’s like the omega is finally able to rest. 

The beta watches and exchanges a look of hope with Theo who smiles gently. Nodding in acknowledgement that things are settled for now, Isaac takes a step back towards the stairs.

Stiles whimpers when his best friend goes to leave. Isaac is safe but neither his instincts nor Theo’s will allow the beta to join them or remain in the vicinity of their nest. So, after Isaac hands Laiken to his daddy, he smiles and makes for the stairs. Stiles whines, shifting his baby to his left hip and tugs at the beta’s shirt before he gets too far. Then he looks at his alpha pleadingly. 

With a nod from the alpha, Isaac shucks his shirt and holds it out. Once Stiles latches onto it, Isaac leaves with a promise to come back tomorrow and to text if they need anything at all. He also makes sure to lock up behind him. 

Stiles purrs at the beta’s scent, wraps the shirt around Luka and only then does he settle with only the faintest amount of alertness remaining.

For now, the nest contains the scents of everyone the omega needs it to, and he is content as could be for the time being. He settles with his nose tucked into Theo’s throat, Luka, Leo and Laiken all in his arms. The entire family, save for the alpha, is asleep in a nest built by the omega.

Theo has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. As his mate and his pups sleep, trusting him to watch over them, Theo places a hand on his mate’s stomach, his heart full of love. He ends up receiving only a light growl in warning at his hand’s placement. Theo scents his little family and then begins to softly sing the lullaby once more. 

Here I found the crescent blade    Forged by Rakkor, surely lunar made    Shining down, upon the earth    Now they'll see, I'll prove my worth

I wish to see this world through my own eyes    To calm the elders and silence their cries    Because of you, I now gaze up and sing    The lullaby of the moon

Condemned me to death    With my last breath    Sorrow and anger    Fill my head

Distant moon, so big and bright    Softest silver glowing through the night    High atop, the mountain gold    Sun unseen, the world is cold

Now I know my chosen path    Higher calling they will know my wrath    Raise my relic blade    I will not be swayed    With the might of the moon by my side

[upgrade-your-enclosure]

Upgrading Lab-mouse cages

This topic goes close to me bc I work in a lab and have hours every day to think about what I can do for these tiny creatures

Lab mice are kept in these cages by standard:

The minimum legal enrichment (at least in germany) is a nest, something to climb, something to chew, and a way to socialize. This cage has a hut for a nest, the top bars for climbing and the hardened pellets for chewing

In my opinion that's both unfitting and not enough. There's some very simple changes and a lot of bigger/harder changes:

Simple changes:

Using wooden or paper huts. It's commonly believed that mice can't see red, but in reality they will always choose darker colours and more natural materials as hides

lowering the light in one part of the cage, eg simple cage sleeves, lowering the general room light, shading the rack

raising the temperature. Mouse are generally kept at 21 - 24°C, but really prefer 26 - 30°C

scanning the room for ultra sounds

scattering some grains for foraging (this is also perfect for training the mice to make health checks easier)

Other still very simple changes:

adding nesting materials. Mouse prefer paper scraps, paper towels, etc, but there's also cotton squares and wood wool commercially available

adding wood for chewing. Again there's many options ranging from wooden bricks over wooden huts to whole branches

adding a running plate or wheel (I know running plates are said to cause spinal deformity, but in my experience that is a very low chance as opposed to the negative effects no movement has)

adding more bedding so digging is easier

adding tubes, boxes, swings and climbing structures

Changes that get closer to pet keeping:

add diggable bedding for builing nests and tunnels

add more huts. More! Mooore! (seriously mouse love a cluttered space and feel most comfortable walking along walls)

add a second layer (most easy part is just wedging a wooden board in there) and raising the top bars (there's raised cage tops for more height)

adding a maze/labyrinth to allow the mice to compartimentalise their cage/hide from light, sounds, movement, etc

stopping to feed ad libitum. In comercial setting, this can be done with feeding machines, privately this can be done by feeding like any other pet (adding a bowl of fresh food twice a day and removing after an hour or two)

scatter feeding instead of having the food in a rack

adding a digging box

Changes for pet keeping:

Going at least one, better two sizes up with the cages

adding toys

adding more mice to the group (in research most mice are kept in groups of 2 to 5. Mice prefer bigger groups though (plus "two" is a pair, not a group))

adding a big, big layer of bedding (see previous category)

adding toys, including food toys, smell toys, etc

giving food treats like yogurt, comercial treats, varied food, dead or life insects (mice are good hunters!)

feeding grains and similar (if you're unsure about a balanced diet, feeding grains additionally to pellets is totally fine)

adding a bigger wheel or running plate (a wheel is better, if you can provide a good one with appropriate size)

offer a free run time. This could for example be in a bath tub. Lay it out with linen or carpets, fill the tub with toys, treats and cardboard boxes, and offer the mice to go there (eg by builing a stairwell, or by training them "taxi" with a travel box)

spend regular time with them to aclimate them to humans

Changes for a near perfect enclosure:

Upgrate to an aquarium with a grid top

add more climbing options. Like way more!

Put heavier huts on stilts

Add even more tunnels

provide fresh food

change up their enrichment (eg digging box, swimming pool, fresh plants, offer tea additionally to water)

All these images have good and bad items, and imo all enclosures can be adapted to the housed animals needs. I'll try to add credit, but please message me if you have questions about specific images

I was about to add sources but found some great in a single site: here

I also always recommend bin cages as they are cheap and very very customisable. The best example I found is this one

[591866473]

Space-Saving Secrets: The Best Accessories for Small Apartments

Feeling cramped in your small apartment? You’re not alone. Many dream of a spacious home but have to work with what they can afford. Luckily, you don’t need magic to enlarge your space — smart accessorizing can make a big difference.

The Importance of Accessories in Small Spaces

Choosing the right accessories is crucial in tight quarters. It’s not just about aesthetics — though that’s important — but also about functionality and feeling comfortable in your space. Choose poorly, and you risk adding clutter. That’s why it’s essential to select pieces that maximize space, enhance functionality, and maintain style.

1. Storage Ottomans: Think of this as a trendy living room furniture piece, much like an ottoman, that stores your winter clothes. Yes, there is such a thing! Offering the two-in-one solution for small spaces — namely, one that gives you a spot to rest your feet or a place to stow items not always in use — are items ranging from under-bed storage boxes to storage ottomans.

2. Nesting Tables: The perfect piece of furniture for a small living room, increases your surface area when needed, and tucks away nicely when not in use. A hit while serving to your guests, predominantly for the setup of a multi-level coffee table.

3. Wall-Mounted Desks: When floor space is a premium, think vertically. The wall-mounted desk is a workstation that folds out from the wall and can be folded back against the wall when your workday is completed, freeing floor space over to other activities.

Click HERE to See Most Popular Small Home Accessories for 2024

4. Mirrors: One of the oldest tricks in the book, mirrors are not only adding some decorative flair, but they add that illusion of depth that makes your apartment feel more expansive. Placing them well and in a position of influence, they can reflect the natural light rays to your space, hence brightening it and providing ventilation as well.

5. Motion Sensor Cabinet Lights: Light cabinets or closets at motion detection for easier finding of items than groping in the dark. Easy to install, it makes the most convenient and modern addition to a small apartment.

6. Floating Shelves: Forget the big bookcase. Floating shelves bring a ton of personality and give you some space on your walls. This set of shelves is perfect for books, plants, and other treasures to fill that empty wall space with a pretty yet useful storage solution.

Cozy Up Your Home with Our Favorite Home Accessories

7. Wall Hooks and Coat Racks: No more chairs strewn with coats. Wall hooks keep your outerwear out of the way and off the floor. An attractive wall rack for kitchen utensils may free drawer and counter space.

The perfect accessories for your small apartment are those accessories toeing the line between beauty and function, each complementing your aesthetic but also serving as a tool to enable you to make the most of every square inch. Remember, a small space is an opportunity to showcase your creativity and personal style.

[blsahoo]

Small Kitchen, Big Sink: Maximizing Space in Compact Kitchens

Introduction:

Small kitchens have become the standard rather than the exception in today's world of modern living, when urban space is at a premium. While a small kitchen can be appealing, it frequently presents the difficulty of limited space for vital elements. The kitchen sink is one place where this limitation is most noticeable. 

Choosing the Right Sink:

The first step in maximizing space in a tiny kitchen is to choose a sink that fits effortlessly into your arrangement. Choose a single-bowl sink over a double-bowl sink for more space and versatility. Consider undermount sinks to create a clean and seamless look while saving counter space that would otherwise be taken by the sink's lip.

Compact Appliances:

Investing in small, multi-functional gadgets will help you save space near the sink. Look for tiny waste disposals, slimline dishwashers, and space-saving microwaves. This not only increases countertop space but also guarantees that the sink area remains the functional focal point of your small kitchen.

Pull-Out Faucets:

Traditional faucets can take up valuable space and limit the flexibility of your sink area. Choose a faucet with a pull-out or pull-down hose. This innovation not only makes cleaning easier, but it also makes filling large pots or buckets easy without taking up more counter space.

Over-the-Sink Cutting Board:

Make the most of your sink space by installing an over-the-sink cutting board. This innovative innovation provides more counter space for slicing vegetables or preparing recipes, and it can be quickly removed and cleaned when not in use.

Wall-Mounted Storage:

Install wall-mounted shelves or racks to make use of the vertical space surrounding the sink. This is a great method to keep commonly used goods within easy reach without taking up valuable counter space. Consider using magnetic strips to keep knives and other metal utensils accessible and tidy.

Nested or Collapsible Accessories:

It's critical to make the most of every inch of available space in a compact kitchen. Colanders, measuring cups, and mixing bowls that nest or collapse are ideal. When not in use, these may be simply stowed within cabinets, allowing you to keep your sink area clean and clutter-free.

Under-Sink Organization:

Don't overlook the area under the sink. Invest in pull-out trays, organizers, and stacking bins to make the most of this sometimes neglected space. A well-organized under-sink space may hold cleaning supplies, garbage bins, and even a recycling station without sacrificing utility.

Conclusion:

A compact kitchen with a large sink is more than just a stylistic option; it is also a practical way to maximize functionality in small areas. You can turn your small kitchen into an efficient and elegant culinary hub by carefully selecting the proper components and implementing smart storage solutions. Small kitchens can be challenging, but with a little imagination and planning, they can be transformed into rooms where every square inch is optimized for both form and function.

[xtruss]

The Tale of Ollie and Dollie, a Pair of Pigeons that Befriended a Family on Lockdown

A National Geographic Photographer finds an unexpected subject in a pair of bold pigeons that have pushed their way into his household.

— By Jasper Doest | Photographs By Jasper Doest | Published May 22, 2020 | Saturday June 24, 2023

Ollie, a pigeon who visits photographer Jasper Doest’s apartment in the Netherlands every day, perches on a plate while Doest fills the dishwasher. Ollie’s partner, Dollie, watches from the outside.

Vlaardingen, The Netherlands 🇳🇱 Tick tick tick tick tick. The sound of a creature’s nails on the laminate flooring approaches from the hallway. I look up from behind my laptop, where I’d been writing photo captions. During these times of pandemic-induced isolation, I’ve set up my home office on the couch. Across the room at the dinner table, my wife is helping our oldest daughter Merel, who’s 9, with her homework.

All our eyes are focused on the hallway now. As the sound gets closer, our 6-year-old daughter Fleur welcomes the visitor. “Hello Ollie,” she says.

With perky steps, a pigeon enters the living room. Ignoring us, he walks straight to the dinner table in search of breadcrumbs that our girls might have dropped during breakfast. He begins to feast, and I tiptoe towards the table to grab my camera.

The pigeons get bolder every day, Doest says. Here, Dollie has snuck past him and tried to land on the radiator. She didn’t take into account all the loose items, and she struggles to keep her balance.

Ollie and his partner in crime, Dollie, have been visiting our house for several weeks now and have become a welcome distraction from the daily news. I should have been on assignment in Romania at the moment, but I was forced to stay home when the coronavirus started spreading across Europe. On March 16 the schools closed, and the Dutch government called for an “intelligent lockdown,” advising us to stay home and to keep five feet of social distance. Unlike in other European countries, we’re still allowed to go outside, but we’re too busy homeschooling and keeping our daughters entertained to go anywhere.

When our isolation began, I decided to keep a visual diary to document the odd reality of this time. Soon, however, our pigeon visitors came to be my primary subject, with their freedom to expand their territory juxtaposing our limitations.

These days, the only place that offers me a breath of fresh air is our balcony. Thankfully spring has arrived early, and I’m able to enjoy my tea out in the sun every morning.

Top: Maaike, Doest’s wife, enjoys the spring weather on the balcony while the two pigeons keep watch. The Dutch government has asked people to stay at home because of the pandemic, so Doest and his family now compete with the pigeon pair for space on the 30-square-foot balcony. Bottom: Ollie visits 9-year-old Merel Doest, who’s doing her homeschooling on the couch while Dutch schools are closed. The pigeons regularly come into the living room looking for crumbs that Merel and her sister Fleur may have dropped under the table.

It was during this daily ritual in early April that I first took notice of the bird sitting on the railing, its iridescent purple and green neck feathers shining in the earlylight of day. The pair of pigeons that nested on our balcony last year had returned—as pigeons usually do—to claim their spot, right underneath my chair.

My wife was not too happy at first. Last year was quite a smelly affair. Rock pigeons—your common city pigeons—are generally despised for their droppings and are often believed to spread diseases.

“All wild birds carry parasites and bacteria,” says André de Baerdemaeker, an urban ecologist at the Natural History Museum Rotterdam and longtime wildlife rehabilitator. “I don’t consider an urban pigeon more dangerous than any other wild bird in that respect. Under normal circumstances, the chances that free-flying birds transmit a disease to a human being are very small.” The pigeon’s bad reputation isn’t justified, he says.

Top: Merel cowers after Dollie flew past her, trying to get into the house. She's still frightened when Ollie suddenly lands on the balcony railing. "I thought he was going to attack me," she says. Nonetheless, both of Doest’s daughters have started to appreciate the pigeons, he says. Bottom: Ollie, standing behind 6-year-old Fleur, joins the family for sushi takeout—an at-home wedding anniversary celebration because restaurants are still closed. Doest heard Ollie approaching in the hallway and grabbed his camera just in time to get this shot.

“Some people believe that by living in an urban world, these birds avoid the rules of nature, but the opposite is true,” he says. Not only do pigeons face predators, food shortages, and competition for nesting sites, but they’re also subject to the whims of human society. Weaker pigeons still manage to stretch their fate by begging for crumbs in the streets, he says, and it’s these bottom-rung pigeons that shape the species’ overall reputation.

But we’ve got to know them as intelligent birds and loving parents. They mate for life, and they’re one of a small number of non-mammals that can learn to pass the mirror test, commonly used to measure self-awareness.

It’s fascinating to me that while many of the animals we don’t interact with are our most-loved, the animals we draw into our lives unintentionally are often the most hated. Pigeons must be one of the most unloved birds around.

Top: Merel cleans the balcony window with Ollie’s supervision. The pigeons love to perch on the door, and when it’s sunny, it’s kept open all day. Even when it’s overcast and the door is closed, they still come to hang out on the windowsill. Bottom: Dollie gets ready to land on the balcony door, where Doest installed a camera. She instead lands on the lens and uses the higher vantage point to see if the coast is clear before entering the kitchen.

When Ollie and Dollie returned this year, Merel and Fleur were still a bit frightened. “Help, they’re coming straight at me,” Merel screamed from the balcony a few weeks ago. I couldn’t help but smile. These pigeons are one of the few opportunities our children have to interact with wild animals in the city, and I believe there is great educational value in that. It gives me the chance to explain the opportunistic nature of urban wildlife. Besides, the girls quickly realized there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Every time I’m cleaning their waste off our balcony, I do understand how people see pigeons as a nuisance. But my impulse to malign them evaporated last year when Ollie and Dollie raised their chicks underneath our chair.

I’ll never forget Merel’s excitement when the first egg hatched and revealed this alien-looking, yellow squab. Sadly the chicks died over the course of two spring heatwaves, and then the nest became home to a large number of ants that marched their way into our kitchen. We eventually removed the nest, certain that we didn’t want pigeons on our balcony the following year.

Top: Ollie takes almost daily walks through the living room. One day Doest noticed him go into the girls’ dollhouse, so he set up a remote camera. After waiting on the couch for five hours, Doest sees Ollie walk in. The bird knocks over a couple figurines, checks the school bus, and then flies off. “I stare at the chaos he left behind and realize this is my life now,” Doest says. ”His visit has been the highlight of the day.” Bottom: As Doest’s daughters play in their rooms, the rest of the house is relatively quiet. Dollie takes the opportunity to venture into the living room. Sometimes when the birds come this far into the apartment, they tend to get disoriented and need to be lured back outside, Doest says. This time, however, Dollie seems to enjoy a quiet moment on the couch. She stayed for about half an hour.

But the pigeons came back this April. We’d just finished dinner, when suddenly I heard a loud noise from the kitchen. There was Dollie, feasting on the rice leftovers on Merel’s plate. The bird looked up. Apparently unafraid, she continued.

Pigeons. Give them a finger, and they'll take the whole hand.

Before we knew it, Ollie and Dollie became regulars in our house. These daily visits have become a reminder of another reality: We are not alone on this planet, and we need to share it with all living beings as if our lives depend on it.

Ollie has finished his business in the living room. I follow him to the hallway from where he can see Dollie. She has been waiting on the kitchen counter for him. For a minute they both stare at me. Then they fly off through the open balcony door into the clear blue sky. I envy their freedom.

Top: Just before sunset, Dollie takes off to roost. She and Ollie will be back tomorrow, ready to spend another day on the balcony. Bottom: Ollie and Dollie keep a close watch while Doest cleans the kitchen floor. Some 60 different diseases can be spread through pigeon droppings, but as long as good sanitation and hygiene are maintained—such as cleaning the droppings and washing hands regularly—it’s very unlikely two pigeons would make anyone sick, Doest says.

Merel looks at Dollie outside on the railing. It’s cold, so the balcony door stays closed. Though the pigeons can’t come in for their daily snacks, they do have the balcony all to themselves.

[abbaroseville]

Chatswood Childcare

If you are looking for a good place to put your child into the care of someone else, there are a handful of options in the suburb of Chatswood. This North Shore city is one of the most populated in New South Wales, and has a thriving community of restaurants, cafes and stores. There are also several shopping centres in the area, including the Lane Cove Shopping Centre and the North Shore's largest, the Harbour Square.

The Chatswood community is home to the Willoughby Symphony Orchestra, the Chinese Cultural Centre, the Zenith Theatre, the Dance and Music Centre and the Chatswood Musical Society. It's not surprising that there is a wealth of arts and culture to enjoy in the area, as Chatswood borders the Lane Cove National Park. You can check out the Willoughby Museum, the Lane Cove Civic Centre, and the nearby Lane Cove Park. The Willoughby Spring Festival is a popular annual event, and features a wide variety of performances, entertainment and food. This is a great place to take the family and get some much needed R&R.

The town is also a major transportation hub, with numerous bus and rail routes and a train station. The area is served by the Sydney metro, as well as several main railway lines. While it isn't located in the CBD, the suburb does boast excellent transport links. Aside from being a great place to live, it has also spawned numerous child care centres. There are more than 50 child care centres in the area, from familiar franchises to independent providers. Many of these centres offer Montessori, community care and even a few that specialize in child care for newborns. These include Chatswood childcare, the Children's Learning Centre and the MindChamps Early Learning & Preschool @ Chatswood. Among these, the MindChamps Early Learning & Preschool @ Chatswood is the standout, as it offers a custom built play space that is bright and spacious, and is based on more than two decades of early childhood education research.

The best part about a reputable child care centre in this part of the world is that it offers a comprehensive menu of services, from nutritious meals to general play and a school readiness program. In addition, the Chatswood childcare centre has an onsite playground, secure parking and a free onsite babysitting service. The service homepage is always filled with contact details, so it is easy to get in touch with your chosen provider.

Abbaroseville have been in the business of children for over 48 years. Family operated & owned and first established at our Crows Nest Centre in 1972 we have had the pleasure of teaching & educating children throughout their many milestones and have loved every moment of it, we really would not have it any-other way.

[theramseyloft]

Beginner’s housing for a pet pigeon

We can go into the complexities involved in housing multiple pigeons at a later time.

Right now, we’re going to focus primarily on setting up for a single bird who is intended to be a companion animal.

The biggest problem you are going to run into is that the housing commercially available for birds is designed either to display a finch or a parrot.

Finch cages make excellent hospital cages for pigeons, but that is their only useful application.

A Hospital cage needs to be small to discourage the bird from moving around too much and doing anything other than eating and drinking, so that their recovery, be that from disease or injury, can progress with as few delays as possible.

A healthy bird cannot tolerate this degree of confinement for long.

Parrot cages are huge and expensive, but too narrow for a pigeon to be physically able to use.

The bare minimum requirements for any cage a pigeon will be housed in for more than an hour a day is that it be two inches wider than the full wingspan of the bird at the narrowest point, to allow their wings at least an inch of clearance on either side.

They are cliff nesters that don’t roost on branches. Round perches hurt their feet, so they need either flat platforms or square perches.

Pigeons cannot climb the way parrots can. They can only walk or fly, and they cannot comfortably fly if their wings will clip into things like hanging toys or ramps.

So they tend to prefer their enclosure be as uncluttered as possible.

Socialization is best done outside the enclosure, so that’s where most of the toys should be.

Dog kennels set up like this one above are kinder to both the pigeons and the wallets of their care taker than pretty much any indoor bird cage available.

A Labrador sized (usually marketed as a “Large”) kennel will fit bird about homer sized and smaller.

Larger breeds or breeds with longer flight and tail feathers will need a larger size as a base line.

These are very simple to modify.

The nest box is a bunny/ferret corner litter box, about $8-10 at most pet shops. Easy to clean and comfortable.

The perch is a garden stake cut to length, about $5 from the garden center at Walmart or a hardware store like Lowes or home Depot.

Honestly, if I had this to do over, the birds would get a wider, shallower food dish.

Pigeons are ground foragers. It’s easier for them to eat comfortably from a shallow dish than a deep one.

The water dish can be as deep as the pigeon can reach the bottom of.

This is the upper level of a ferret nation Double modified for my first breeding pair of Lucerne waaaay back before my loft was built, when I had a grand total of four breeding pair of pigeons and 16 pairs of Ringneck doves.

This one also has a garden steak cut to fit as a perch.

Their nest box is a large dog bowl full of timothy hay.

Notice that this enclosure has a single hanging bell toy exactly at standing head height for the birds, well out of the way of their wings.

This probably looks unbearably spartan, especially if you come form a parrot back ground.

Remember that pigeons cannot climb and will not fly in a space where their wings may bump into clutter.

The cage for an indoor pet pigeon should serve the same function as the kennel does for an indoor dog:

That is NOT where the dog lives!

At most, it’s where they sleep at night, and where a puppy stays when they can’t be supervised until they’ve learned the house rules.

Pigeons are absolutely smart enough to learn house rules just like a dog or cat.

And pet pigeons are happiest when they have the freedom of motion to exercise, play, and interact with their human flock mates at will.

While they can free fly an entire house, a single bedroom is enough space for most breeds to move around happily.

Pigeon proofing is pretty simple.

They aren’t capable of chewing like parrots, so no need to worry about your electrical chords being damaged and your bird giving them self a nasty shock.

They can’t damage wood or drywall or fabric by chewing.

Pigeons don’t eat plants, but do like the feel of ripping them and will use strips of leaves as nest bedding, so house plants may need to be protected by glass covers.

Things displayed on shelves in the room or rooms the pigeon will have access to need to be heavy enough or well enough wedged in that the bird can’t pull them down if they land awkwardly on them or push them off if they bump into or try to squeeze past them.

Papers need to be stored where they won’t be scattered by the wind that their powerful wings kick up in flight.

Any crevices too high or awkward for you to easily clean need to be blocked some how.

Poop is simple.

The poop of a well fed, healthy pigeon with a good diet should be round and solid enough that it can be easily picked up with a square of toilet paper or a tissue when wet or vacuumed up when dry.

Once you know your bird’s favorite perches, you can make clean up even easier on yourself by laying down puppy pads under them that you can just change out as often as needed.

Once a pigeon has mastered the house rules, you can do away with the cage entirely.

This is the feeding station we set up for Ankhou and Bird-bird.

On the little feed tray for cats were the feeder and waterer with oystershell offered free choice from a dish between them.

Pigeons are one of the very few animals that recognize their reflection in the mirror as a a reflected view of themselves, instead of another bird.

Most like to practice dancing, strutting, their sweeping charge, and bow-cooing in front of mirrors, so those are excellent enrichment for them.

Being cliff nesters, bricks are simply the most comfortable thing for a pigeon to stand on.

Strutting back and forth on the rough surface in front of a mirror will help them keep their claws blunted.

The bricks are holding down a crinkle sack for cats, laid out flat. 

Pigeons love noise stims. Particularly crinkly, jingly, or chiming.

The noise it made made dancing in front of the mirror extra fun on the crinkle mat.

The dead keyboard serves a similar function.

This beans box from Walmart full of straw served as Bird-Bird’s nest box.

She laid eggs fairly regularly, and slept in there most of the time.

Ankhou was a man of simple tastes. 

This baby doll blanket on the nightstand at my bedside was where he slept at night.

Social bird was social and wanted to be as close as possible to us at all times and involved somehow in everything we did.

Pigeons like to take baths, and our free flying pet liked to be offered the opportunity to take one when we showered, but did not like to actually be in the shower with us.

So we got him a little pyrex casserole dish about as long as he was that stayed on the side of the bathtub and made a habit of filling it for him before we got into the shower.

Anhkou didn’t care much for forage pans or puzzle toys, but many pigeons do and they are very simple to make.

A pan or tray with a few fists full of straw, paper strips, sand, or a mix of all three with a high value treat like Safflower seeds sprinkled in to find mimics the way rock doves would forage for seed in the wild.

Puzzle feeders for pigeons are as simple to make as crumpling a sheet of paper with a few high value seeds inside.

Pigeons love crinkly sounds and tugging on the crumpled paper or blowing it around by flapping at it will reward them with a few spilled seeds and a fun noise.

The little wicker balls for kitties with a jingle bell inside complete the holy trinity of stick-texture, shiny, and jingly, and many pigeons love to kick, peck, and toss them.

They like to pick up and shake and toss bread ties with a small jingle bell fastened to the end.

Bird-Bird’s favorite toy was the bell intended to go on a kittens collar. 

She liked to strut around with it holding it by the loop by which it was supposed to fasten and very softly jingling it.

Q-tips with the cotton tips removed and toothpicks with blunted or clipped ends are basically pigeon Legos.

Miniature wind chimes like this little angel and her harp are fun auditory stims too.

If you can swing it (ha!), pigeons enjoy swings, as long as the perch is flat.

Experiment with your birds and see what kind of enrichment they enjoy. ^v^

[amatchinwater]

Second square for Steo Spooktober. I knew there was a reason that I was saving this wip!

Square filled: Free space- vampire/warlock AU

Warnings: Blood, talks of death, reincarnation, explicit sexual content, uhhh...that's it?

Words: 5705

Ao3 link

AU inspiration

Post/song for title inspiration

Brand New Set of Bones

In a world where the supernatural is more or less known, vampires like Stiles are able to live freely. Without worry of mobs with torches and pitchforks like the days he was turned. Stiles was born again in 1792 when the witch trials were trying to make a comeback for all things that went bump in the night. People didn't take too kindly to women who put too many herbs in their dinner because of the health benefits. You know, not actual witches. Imagine how the townsfolk reacted when they discovered a young man who drank blood for sustenance. 

If you guessed badly, you'd be correct. 

Three months after being turned by a vampire- who had intended to feed from him and compel him to forget, but fucked up and nearly killed Stiles- he was left on his own. Turns out his maker, a man named Peter, ran afoul with one of the largest families of hunters in the world; the Argents. His maker didn't necessarily leave him high and dry being brutally murdered and all. Once he realized his mistake of almost killing Stiles, Peter offered to turn the human to save his life. 

Stiles agreed. 

Being in his early twenties and orphaned at a young age, he was no stranger to living on the streets and begging for scraps. But Peter insisted that wouldn't be his life anymore. That he comes from a very wealthy family overseas- the Hales- and it was now Peter’s responsibility to take care of the newborn vampire. 

So Stiles moved in with the man. In the three months he had with his maker, they tirelessly worked on Stiles' control of his hunger. Teaching him how to compel- he wasn't the best, even worse in stressful situations- and release people. And to stay away from silver if he wants to keep his skin. 

Peter tried to teach Stiles everything he knew as hard as the newbie tried to learn it. But then Peter got caught. One of the Argents followed him down an alleyway while his maker was stalking dinner and staked him right as Peter’s fangs ripped from his gums. Stiles felt it in his own heart. The connection between a vampire and their maker is much like that of a pack bond for werewolves. Stiles was gone when it happened. 

Apparently the hunter wasn't alone. The man who killed Peter followed him from their home instructing his son to keep an eye on the house in case it was a nest. The younger Argent heard Stiles' mournful screams and rushed the grieving vampire. Literally dragging him through the town by his hair as bloody tears stained his pale, mole speckled cheeks. The vampire caught sight of the boy he had been enamoured by before he was turned: Theo. His blue eyes filled with rage under his dark green cloak, watching Stiles being tied to a stake in the center of town. 

The wrath wasn't directed towards Stiles, but the hunter hurting him. The citizens casting stones and cursing slurs at the vampire. He watched as Theo's eyes glowed a violent purple, ready to attack. Theo’s a warlock and Stiles never once judged him for it, it only made him love the other boy more. The vampire shook his head, knowing that if Theo exposes himself as a witch, that the townsfolk will kill him too. Stiles can't let that happen. Not to Theo. The perfect man he's known since they were kids. Fell in love with when they were teenagers. 

Though he never risked telling Theo. Not in this era. 

But the warlock is just as stubborn and protective as Stiles it seems. He rushed the makeshift stage, knocking the hunter out of the way. Wide blue eyes search his amber ones, "it's going to be okay." Theo assures him, ignoring Argent's yells. The warlock cups his face, "you should know I love you, too." Stiles never once said those words out loud. And before he can, Theo leans in and kisses him with everything he's got. 

There's cries of outrage at the sight before the citizens. The vampire reciprocates as best as he can in his restraints, crying tears of sadness and joy. "Please go, they'll kill you too. Theo, please," Stiles begs. 

The younger hunter grabs Theo's shoulders, trying to yank him off but the warlock holds firm. "I will find you again, I swear it." His blue eyes are so sincere the vampire almost believes him. "Leave this place. I will find you." 

Their lips brush one last time and when Stiles reopens his eyes, he's back in his and Peter's home. Theo just showed the entire town of Beacon Hills that he's not only gay, but a witch too. There's no way they're not going to kill him. But the vampire doesn't know how to save him. Theo's last wish was for Stiles to leave. Crumbling for a moment, the vampire heats the screams of the man who risked his life for Stiles' own. 

Fresh tears roll down his cheeks as he works his way through the house. Finding Peter’s will in the locked chest beside his bed- he left all of his possessions to Stiles, his "son"- and enough clothes to get him by. The vampire runs to a shop heading straight for Europe. 

Stiles lived in Romania- Peter's homeland- for two hundred years. His maker wasn't kidding about the Hales being a well known and extremely wealthy family. The second the vampire was off the boat and walked into the first inn he could find, Peter's last name was painted on the sign in big, bold, red letters. He met a woman named Talia. She knew instantly that Stiles was a vampire and took him in, explaining she was Peter’s sister. The vampire lived with them and became part of the family. Derek, her son, became Stiles' best friend. 

The two were inseparable. Worked together and hung out together. Told each other secrets. Derek was the only Hale Stiles told about Theo. The other vampire held him as he cried bloody tears for his lost love. Love he never even got to properly have. 

Then something amazing happened twenty some odd years after arriving in Romania. A family moved into town claiming to be natural healers. They opened an apothecary right next to the bookstore Talia let Stiles run. She let him keep Peter’s trust, but the younger vampire insisted on working. The family had two children that helped run the shop. Stiles was instantly entranced by their son. The young man with shoulder length black hair and skin nearly as pale as Stiles' own. 

But what got to him the most- what made the vampire cry and lock the bookstore for the day- was the man's eyes. Ocean blue that when the light plays its tricks could be mistaken for green. Theo's eyes. Stiles had laid his feelings for the warlock to rest nearly fifteen years ago. But here was this healer's son unknowingly dredging up the past. Violently ripping open scars on his heart. Then he introduced himself a week later when Stiles felt okay enough to start working again. The vampire thought a cruel trick was being played on him.

The store had been open for all of ten minutes before the bell Stiles hung above the door rang. He was at the shop alone, insisting Derek take a well deserved day off for picking up his emotional slack. Long black hair framing a chiseled jaw entered the shop with a heart stopping smile. 

“Hi,” was all the thick, melodious voice greeted.

“Good morning,” Stiles donned his work persona with ease, “can I help you find a certain book?”

His lips pulled into a smirk, “yes, I was hoping you had some books about vampires. I like horror stories.”

Stiles tried not to bristle at the request. He finds vampires' depiction by writers hideous and quite frankly insulting. “Right this way,” the vampire rounds the small counter, gesturing for the other man to follow. Stopping by a short row of books, “here we are,” Stiles says.

“Thank you,” the dark haired boy nos, looking over his options. 

“Let me know if I can help you with anything else,” Stiles tells him before trying to walk away.

But the young man’s voice stops him, “I will, thank you, Stiles.” He smiles widely.

“H-how do you know my name?”” The vampire pivots on his foot to look at the healer’s son. Unsure if he should be afraid or simply curious. Everyone knows the Hales, Stiles is one by default so someone could’ve just told him. 

“I told you I’d find you again.”

His breath gets punched out of his chest. “I-I’m sorry?” Surely Stiles misheard him or just imagined things. It’s been a few days since he’s fed, so it’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility. 

“I know I look a little different,” the other boy steps closer, forcing Stiles to back up into the stack behind him. “It’s me. Theo.”

The world stops. If Stiles wasn’t technically dead, the way his heart stopped in his chest, he would’ve died on the spot. But something in his gut turns sour, that this is some trick. “You’re not Theo,” he chokes on the words, “Theo died over twenty years ago.”

“I did,” the other boy nods. “I died saving your life knowing I’d come back to you.”

“Did Derek put you up to this?”

“Would I know that you were born in seventeen-sevety? Or that when you were six years old you nearly broke your arm falling out of the tree at my home? That your favorite color is purple?” The vampire’s eyes well without his permission, Derek didn’t know about the tree. “I promised you. I will always come back for you.”

“I missed you so much,” Stiles sobs, letting the blood flow freely.

Theo wipes them before they can stain his pale cheeks. “I missed you, too.” The warlock pulls him into a hug, finally connecting their lips. Theo found him. 

They shared a life together for just shy of twenty years until the warlock passed on. People didn’t live very long back then. Theo died with the same promise on his lips as in his first life. That he would find Stiles again.

Theo kept his word in 1864 when he was thirty. And again in 1914 when he was twenty-five. It was the longest stretch of time they got together with the advancements of modern medicine. Sixty years together. Theo died in 1974, peacefully in his sleep beside Stiles. The vampire offered in every life to turn Theo. The warlock declined, saying he might lose his power of reincarnation. That Theo could die and stay dead. While that thought did terrify the vampire, constantly watching the love of his life- his eternity- die over and over again hurt like nothing else.

But he always kept an eye out for those blue eyes. The only part of Theo that stayed the same across his new faces. 

In 1992, the Hales decided to move back to Stiles’ hometown of Beacon Hills. It has been almost twenty years and Theo hasn’t shown up yet. The vampire has learned from experience that sometimes it just takes a little longer. The warlock has to be born and grow up first. Talia said there was a reason Peter had moved there and she’d like to find out why. They built a mansion in the preserve where the family still lives to this day.

More years passed and in 2016 the blanket that covered the public’s eyes to the supernatural was lifted. Vampires, witches, werewolves, banshees, kitsunes, and so much more no longer had to hide in the shadows. Stiles wanted to show Theo this new world. The wolf they could not only love freely in, but not have to hide their nature either. Yet Theo is still nowhere to be found. 

In the year twenty-twenty-one, a whole forty-seven years since the witch last passed, Stiles was ready to give up. The only place the vampire saw those striking blue eyes were in his dreams. 

The accommodations made for vampires were weird to Stiles at first. Some places, big cities mostly, set up something of a mating run- which they did start for werewolves- in which those who didn’t mind could be chased and fed on. The blood banks that supply hospitals hold more drives to have a larger stock. And then there’s the feeding centers. Places added on to blood banks for those who prefer drinking straight from the source without the need to chase. Stiles wasn’t the biggest fan of that practice. 

The donors were willing, but it just felt weird to him since the bite can sometimes cause euphoria. It was a strange thing to want to share with someone not out of necessity. 

Until he was given basically no choice. One afternoon Stiles hadn’t eaten in a few days without realizing until one of his friends Isaac- a werewolf- told him he looked sick. The vampire went to the closest bank a few blocks from his bookstore. He stook in line patiently for a bag of o-negative. The rest taste like chalk to him. And it’s usually a good thing because that’s the universal donor so it’s usually available in abundance. Stiles just needs one bag to hold him on until he gets home.

The receptionist clacks away on her keyboard to put in his request. A frown immediately forms on her full lips, thick black eyebrows pinch together, “I’m sorry, sir. But it seems like we’re out of o-neg.” She frowns further, “there was a bad pile up on ten and they rushed our stock to Beacon Memorial. If you don’t like the others, I can see if we have a donor for you.” Her desk phone rings, “I’m sorry, I have to get this.”

He hasn’t fed on a person in five years. When everything came to light and the populace was surprisingly cool with it. It took less than six months for the changes to be made. Stiles opens his mouth to tell her it’s okay and not to worry about it.

“Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll send him to your office.” The woman- he feels rude for not asking her name- hangs up the phone with a smile. “My manager would like to apologize in person for the issue with our stock. He said he keeps a few extras of each blood type in his office in case something like this ever happened.” She smiles warmly, “it’s through the double doors at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it, but I could show you there, if you’d like.” 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll make it.” Stiles returns the smile, though his fangs have come forth from his hunger, “thank you…”

“Celeste.”

“Thank you, Celeste,” the vampire bows slightly. Old habits die hard. He’s two hundred and thirty years old, give him a break.

“You’re welcome!” 

Opening the double doors as instructed, Stiles follows the tan hallway to its end, finding a black door with a crystal knob. The vampire knocks, letting himself in hearing the ‘it’s open’ from the other side. 

A man with light brown hair has his back turned, signing papers on his desk. “Please,” he gestures with his pen towards the leather chair with brown legs, “take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

Scrunching his face, I know that voice, why do I know that voice? Stiles does as told. “You know, you don’t have to share your personal-” the man starts to turn as Stiles speaks, making the vampire slow his words in wonder. “-stock with-” blue eyes lock on and Stiles forgot what he was saying to begin with. “Theo,” he breathes out.

Actual Theo! Looking the same as he did the first time Stiles lost him. Barrely sun-kissed skin, stubble on his jaw, and bangs flopping in his eyes. Those perfect blue eyes that the vampire didn’t know he’d ever see again. Not caring he could be wrong or dreaming- wouldn’t be the first time- Stiles throws himself into his arms.

It must be real and Theo, because arms are wrapping around him, holding the vampire close. Which in hindsight probably wasn’t the smartest idea because Stiles is hungry. And Theo smells so good! His fangs start to ache and the vampire has to forcibly let the warlock go. Taking several steps back.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles covers his mouth. Not once in over two hundred years of being a vampire has he ever fed on his lover. 

Smirking, he brings his hands to his shirt, “you’re hungry. Stiles, you need to feed,” Theo unbuttons the collar of his plum dress shirt. “I lied to Celeste. I don’t have blood bags in here.”

“Then why-”

“I’m o-negative, Stiles.”

That’s a very big revelation to be perfectly honest. He’s never drank Theo’s blood and yet it’s the warlock’s that appeals to him the most. Talk about irony.

“So you offer your blood to every hungry vampire when you run out?” Stiles lets a little bit of his jealousy show- just because he hadn’t fed on him doesn’t mean he wants anyone else to have done so. It’s personal. Intimate. 

Theo chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I bought this place in hopes you would show up one day.” The warlock reaches behind him to turn the computer on his desk, showing a fuzzy picture of the lobby. “I saw you on the cameras. When she offered you a donor I knew you’d turn Celeste down. Honestly, I’d have called you here even if we did have what you were looking for. But if you’re going to drink from anybody,” Theo steps closer with a slight tilt to his head. His pulse makes the vampire salivate. “It’s going to be me.”

Stiles opens his mouth, a refusal hanging on his tongue. 

“That’s not all you’re going to do either.”

“What?” The sampure looks confused. Having no clue what Theo could possibly mean by that.

The warlock gets closer still, reaching to hold Stiles’ hand in his, “you’re going to feed until you’re full. Then,” he silences Stiles’ protest, “I’m going to take you home and you’re going to turn me.” 

Shocked. Utterly fucking stunned. The vampire blinks rapidly, mouth slack in pure disbelief. “But your power. You could lose it. If you die,” Stiles takes a shaky breath, “you might not come back.”

Theo just smiles at him, “there’s a reason I look like how I did in my first life. I added to my spell so that I would look like me in the life that if you turned me, I wouldn’t die.” The warlock turns sad, “I made the clause when I didn’t find you in Romania in the nineties and got deathly ill. As I grew up, I realized it worked.” 

“So you’re telling me,” Stiles has to tear his eyes away from the tempting pulse. He slurs around his fangs, “fate decided that this is the life you won’t die if you become a vampire?” It’s really hard to focus when he can hear Theo’s heart in his ears. 

Even more so when Theo cups his cheek with one hand and pulls him by the small of his back with the other. “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” the warlock confirms. “Now,” Theo tilts his head and Stiles can see the blood flowing in his carotid, it makes him shake in a breath. “Drink from me, baby. I know you need it.”

He does. Stiles really does. He found Theo this time. And he’s willing to let Stiles turn him. If the warlock had any idea of what’s going on in the vampire’s head, he’d blush. “Theo, I love you,” Stiles presses a gentle kiss on the warlock’s throat.

A soft chuckle comes from Theo’s lips. “I love you, too.” His words cut off in a moan when Stiles’ fangs sink into the offered flesh. “Stiles,” Theo whispers, his hand coming up to tangle in the vampire’s hair. Ensuring he doesn’t move until he’s actually full. He moans again, squeezing the vampire’s hip with his free hand.

This is why Stiles got jealous that anybody might be drinking from Theo. What he meant by it being intimate. Not everyone has this reaction, but if the person being bit enjoys the idea even a little bit, it sets off pleasure receivers in their brain so they don’t feel pain. And well, Theo’s neurons are working just fine. God, Stiles hasn’t heard that sound from the warlock’s lips in so long and hopes that literally no one else has. 

And his blood? It’s honestly the most delicious thing Stiles has ever tasted. Not one in his two hundred years has the vampire ever drank blood that didn’t taste like sucking on a penny. But Theo’s tastes like food. Real food. Like the warlock main lined a steak for lunch rather than chewing it. Maybe it’s a witch thing.

If Stiles drinks much longer, he’ll turn Theo now. He swipes his tongue over the two puncture wounds on the warlock’s neck, feeling his saliva close them. “Thank you,” Stiles murmurs against the skin, biting with blunt teeth. Just to hear Theo moan again.

Delivering with no problem, the warlock breathes out a moan, “you are very welcome.” Theo fists his fingers in the vampire’s hair, pulling him back to look at each other. His blue eyes hooded and glassy, “now can I get a proper greeting?” Theo brings their lips together before he can answer. Stiles has missed his mouth!

But he knows he just drank a lot from the warlock, Theo should not be making out right now. As much as he doesn’t want to, Stiles breaks their kiss. “Theo, you should sit down for a minute.”

Cupping the vampire’s cheeks, Theo chuckles, “I had a steak for lunch, I actually feel pretty good.”

“You had a steak for lunch?” Stiles squints and the warlock nods. “I could taste it.”

“I know,” Theo cracks a shit eating grin. He knows? “I did that too. Charmed my blood to taste like my last meal. You don’t get to eat real food anymore,” the warlock shrugs, “I figured you’d like to taste it again.”

Stiles doesn’t even know what to say to that. It’s kind of really thoughtful and his heart feels warm.

“I actually did it after my first life. But you always refused to drink from me. At least you got to taste food one last time.” Theo snorts, “good thing I picked steak then.”

“Theo, you-”

“Also, how could you not tell me how good that feels?” Stiles huffs out of his nose at the warlock’s excitement. He hasn’t heard Theo’s voice in decades. “Does that go away once you’re a vampire?” Stiles is still staring with an admiring smile on his face. “What?”

Shaking his head, he says, “nothing. No, the feeling doesn’t go away. Or so I’ve heard.” Theo can’t exactly bite that hard right now. “If you meant the capability of drinking another vampire’s blood. No, not really. It doesn’t do much, but it works in a pinch.”

“So what you’re saying,” Theo walks them, holding Stiles’ hips until he’s pinned to the wall, “is that you can bite me again?” The vampire gulps and nods. “And I can bite you?” The warlock leans in to lick the pale neck, making Stiles shiver and nod again.

“Yeah,” he gasps out. Sue him, he’s a little worked up having Theo press into him. It’s been far too long. His legs fall apart for the warlock to settle between.

“Good,” Blue, glassy eyes burn into him and it hits Stiles that he never has to stop seeing them again. “I want to take you home.”

“I can work with that,” Stiles melts into the warlock. His soul mate. His everything. “Take me home.” The Hales might be his family, but even they know when Theo’s here, Stiles lives with the warlock. Theo is home to him.

Sliding his tongue in the vampire’s mouth, Theo groans before pulling away. He reaches for the top drawer of his desk, grabbing his keys. “Come on,” the warlock holds his hand out.

Taking it, Stiles entwines their fingers with a smile. The two walk hand in hand out of the building to Theo’s truck. It takes about fifteen minutes to pull up to the two story house. 

It’s nice. Warm and inviting thanks to the brown and black tones. The dark railing of the staircase with white stairs. A brick and stone fireplace in the middle of the living room. There’s pictures all over the walls and Stiles is tearing up. The first actual photograph they ever took together hangs over the fireplace. The others line the walls beside it. And the ones they took in the seventies that are wildly embarrassing are all along the staircase.

Theo follows closely behind, letting Stiles explore and find their room on his own. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Stiles skips the first door and opens the last one on the left. The master bedroom. Their room.

Purple sheets and a black comforter cover a king sized bed with black bed posts. Warm caramel walls and carpet keep the welcoming feeling. It’s really nice. They get to stay here for the rest of their lives. For their eternity.

“Good,” Theo closes the distance, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ middle, kissing the crook of his neck. “Because I’m not letting you leave for at least three days.”

“Promise?” Stiles turns in his arms. He has nearly no limit to his stamina. Theo’s always tried to keep up. Soon enough, he’ll be able to.

“Turn me and find out,” the warlock smirks.

Fangs rip from his gums and Stiles tilts Theo’s neck. Biting into the flesh, Theo moans, grabbing the vampire’s shoulders. Drinking until the warlock’s breath is barely audible and the blood flowing into his mouth nearly stops, Stiles lets go. Digging into his own wrist, the vampire places it against Theo’s lips, letting the warlock drink until his body slumps. He carefully lays Theo on their bed, waiting for the change to run its course. 

A few hours later, Theo wakes up and Stiles’ wrist is already reopened and waiting for him. Again, it won’t do much, but it’ll be enough for now. At least until he can get Derek or Talia to bring them more. The newbie drinks his fill, licking the smeared blood from Stiles’ arm. 

“How do you feel?”

“Really fucking good,” Theo tells him with a smile full of fangs, rolling over until he’s laying on top of his maker. Pushing into Stiles’ hips with his own until he can grind their dicks together. His already hard and wanting, urging the other vampire’s to rise to the occasion. 

“Already?” Stiles grins like he hasn’t been without for forty years. “You just woke up.”

Theo nods, ducking his head into his maker’s neck, fangs grazing the skin, “I did.” He kisses the pale flesh, nipping enough for a drop of blood to come forth. “And I feel great. And I need you, Stiles,” Theo groans as their hard cocks rub together through their pants, nails digging into the other’s side. “I missed you.”

Grabbing Theo by the back of his hair, Stiles pulls them face to face, “I missed you, too.” He connects their mouths with a harsh kiss. Pouring every pent up ounce of passion and emotion of the last four decades into his lips on Theo’s. His fingers curl into the hem of the other vampire’s shirt, yanking it up to his shoulder as he rakes his nails down Theo’s back. 

With a loud, hissed moan, Theo pulls back and his eyes flicker a beautiful shade of lilac. Seems as though he’s still a warlock too. Guess that isn’t something that vampirism can take away. “Jesus,” Theo groans, yanking his shirt off and pulling at his maker’s with need. Fumbling with his fingers, the new vampire grunts, leaving the fabric to work on Stiles’ pants. Having much better luck, Theo takes his lover’s pants and boxers off in one tug of his wrists. 

Truly loving that Theo wants this as badly as he does, Stiles bites his lip and pulls his t-shirt off. Moaning and carding his fingers through the warlock’s strands as he takes Stiles’ cock in his mouth. Theo’s fangs gently graze the shaft of his way down and looks up in apology- because that has to fucking hurt- only to see his maker drop his mouth in a low, guttural moan. Stiles’ own fangs dropping from the pure pleasure coursing through him. All too quickly, Theo releases his dick, sucking the budding precum from the slit, leaving it cold. The older vampire goes to protest only to be cut off by Theo’s tongue pushing into his tight hole making him keen. 

When he can feel saliva dripping down his cheeks, a finger presses inside- fucking finally. He’s needed Theo inside of him for far too long. So much so that he doesn’t care about the burn, “more,” he pants. “Theo, please,” Stiles fists his hands in the sheets. “I can take it, please.” 

“I won’t hurt you,” he says, reaching with his free hand between the mattress, coming back with a bottle of lube. “Trust me, I need this too. I’ll go as fast as I can, okay?” Stiles nods, grinding against the finger inside him while the other vampire lubes the rest of his digits, pressing a second inside. “Fuck,” he groans, hooking his fingers and spreading, eyes locked on the way the ring of muscle just gives way to the intrusion. 

“Theo,” Stiles moans, clenching when a third joins the others, fucking him open into a needy mess. “Please,” he pushes against Theo’s thrusting hand, moaning, “I need you. I need you inside me, Theo, please.” 

Sinking his fangs into Stiles’ thigh, not daring to let a single drop stain the mole covered flesh, Theo spreads his fingers more, his free hand squirting lube onto his throbbing cock. Licking the wound that’s already healing, he grins as the scream he provoked. Seeing Theo with bloody fangs while his fingers are buried in Stiles’ ass is probably the hottest thing the older vampire has ever seen. Removing his fingers despite the greedy clench of his maker’s hole, Theo positions his dick at Stiles’ entrance, slowly inching forward.

Wanting absolutely none of that, the older vampire wraps his legs around Theo’s waist and pulls him in balls deep, moaning loudly when their skin’s flush. “Oh my god,” he mewls, stupidly happy to be so perfectly full again. Theo pants into the crook of his maker’s knee, nipping at the flesh until Stiles is adjusted. He’s so past adjusted it’s not even funny. The older vampire pushes his hips down, “Theo,” his name whispered like a fucking prayer. A vital need to be fucked out of his mind. 

But the warlock has always been one to tease. Drive Stiles mad until he’s a proper mess. So Theo pulls back to just the tip and slides forward, purposefully ignoring his prostate, only thrusting in halfway just to do it all over again. “You feel so fucking good, Stiles. Go ahead and clench all you want- fuck- I’m enjoying this too much.” He bends down to lick his maker’s chest, keeping his leisure pace, toying with Stiles like he always does. 

Yanking Theo up by his hair, the older vampire sinks his fangs into the crook of his neck making him cry out and slam his hips forward. Stiles moves up his neck, biting again and the warlock screams his moan, fucking with a purpose. Stiles’ head falls back against the pillow with a cocky smile, all too pleased with himself for making Theo lose it like that. Eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moans, Theo railing into that precious bundle of nerves like it’s made to be abused. For all Stiles cares, it is. 

Leaning up, Theo grips his hips hard, relentlessly pounding into the tight ring of muscle. “Can’t believe,” he pants as he thrusts harder, “you never bit me before. That’s what I’ve been missing?” The younger vampire chuckles, dropping his palms on the mattress to fuck into him faster. “God, I want your fangs in me all the time, Stiles.”

Despite his very hazy brain, the older vampire recognizes the beat around the bush request and bites at Theo’s wrist propped near his head. Stiles moans around the blood in his mouth, his dick twitching as heat pools in his gut. His orgasm rushing to the surface at high speed. Stiles reaches a hand between them, releasing the warlock’s wrist to stroke himself. Theo slaps his hand away to do it himself, needing to take everything that Stiles has to offer. 

Powerful thrusts and the delicious roll of Theo’s wrist has the older vampire writhing, gasping for release. Torn between seeing Theo’s face when he cums and pinching his eyes closed in pleasure, the pressure inside him reaches an explosion finally forcing his eyes shut as he cries out. Screaming through his orgasm that steals all of his breath and whitens his vision. 

Theo hums in approval above him, “I forgot how pretty you look when you cum,” he runs a finger along Stiles’ jaw. Cupping his chin, the younger vampire whispers, “so beautiful.” Theo kisses him and the older vampire bites Theo’s bottom lip. Moaning around Stiles’ mouth, his hips jerk a few more harsh thrusts before he’s spilling his release deep inside his maker. “I love you,” he huffs, resting his head on Stiles’ chest. 

“I love you too,” the older vampire runs his fingers through Theo’s hair, wrapping his free arm around the younger vampire. Stiles doesn’t mind the cum leaking out of his ass or that Theo is still hard and inside him, he just wants to relax. Enjoy the feeling of finally having Theo back and never having to say goodbye again.

[jawritter]

Born Under The Wrong Sign

Part 2

Summary: Dean Winchester, hunter, killer of Gods, demons, and monster, was born as an Omega. It never felt right, and he wants a change of biology. After all, just cause it’s what we’re assigned, it shouldn’t identify who we are…

Pairing: Omega!Dean Winchester x Alpha!Reader

Written For: @spnkinkbingo​​

Square field: Total Power Exchange

Word Count: 2511

Beta’d By: @miss-nerd95​​! Thanks again hun!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics​​

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Identity Crisis? ABO Dynamics, smut, unprotected smut, mention of past abusive parents. John’s A+ parenting,  knotting, dirty talk, language, talk of sex change and presentation changes. Some self hate. Claiming, knotting, mating, hint of a possible breeding kink. I think that’s about it.

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written like this one, even for ABO, and even though I’m sure they’re out there I’ve never read one quite like it. So, that being said, I’m pretty nervous about throwing this one out there for you guys! So I really do hope you enjoy it! Feedback is golden! Please do not copy my work! This is part 1, part 2 will drop later this week!!

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A lot had taken place since Dean’s heat ended three days ago. 

Step one of your plan to find a way to switch your biological presentations started with you contacting Sam at the men of letter’s bunker, and setting him to work researching to see if there was any lore that could help you both in your pursuit. 

Dean was worried that Sam wouldn’t be supportive or understanding of his current predicament, but Sam was more than willing to help his brother in whatever he chose to be. John still had Dean repressed a little to this day, it was a deep rooted fear of Dean’s that his family would be ashamed of him or reject him for feeling what he felt. Still, Sam set to work right away. 

Now it was just getting back to the younger Winchester at the Bunker and seeing what he found. You had taken a few days to make sure Dean recovered from his heat before traveling with him. This one had been bad, and he was still pretty tired, but he was also anxious to get back to his brother and see what he’d dug up. 

Dean was in his post heat, clingy phase as well, which added to traveling difficulty. Instinct was telling him to nest down and cuddle with you, and that was hard to do and drive, so it put you behind the wheel of Baby while he lay curled the best he could across the seat with his head in your lap. 

You subconsciously stroked his hair with your free hand as the miles rolled underneath you both and carried you closer to home. You would occasionally glance down at Dean, and you did note that he looked uncomfortable in this position, but what other choice did you have? You had to get to the Bunker as soon as possible if you were going to find an answer to this problem at all. 

Dean had fought against his biology for so long, that when the Omega side of him was more prevalent around his heats it looked odd to you. You were so used to Dean carrying himself as an Alpha would, that it almost looked as unnatural to you as it felt to him, and you could clearly see that he was not meant to be an Omega. This was clearly a mistake of biology. 

The same stood for you. 

You didn’t really carry yourself like an Alpha, even in private when it wasn’t needed that you held to the act to protect your Omega from being killed by other hunters who called Male Omega’s 'Genetic Freaks'. 

You loved to be close to Dean, almost as much as he liked to be close to you, and you were surprisingly submissive to him on the every day occasion. You even often let him have the upper hand in the bedroom, something he really enjoyed, and man you loved it when he took control. It felt more natural to you, it felt right, and you would be a liar if you said you hadn’t fantasized about Dean calling you his Omega just as much as he did. 

Your small frame even contradicted your Alpha status. It made protecting your Omega harder, because if someone was attracted by his unmistakable Omega scent when you weren't around to claim it as yours, especially another male, they could probably overpower you. That scared you a lot, especially in bars where the threat could turn real, real fast. 

You were relieved when you pulled up to the bunker, and didn’t have to stop the whole way. Dean being on the heels of his heat made his scent more prominent, even under suppressants, and you didn’t want to fight with another Alpha at a gas station. 

As the two of you made your way down the iron staircase of the Bunker, you could hear voices echoing through the walls of the place, one of which you recognized right away. Rowena MacLeod. That meant Sam must have found something.  Or, you thought sorrowfully, he found nothing, and he called for backup. 

You exchanged a look with your mate before entering the library where Sam, Rowena, and Cas were all gathered probably waiting for you.

You dropped your duffle bag to the floor with a thud as Dean looked to his little brother with a look of almost desperation. 

“Sammy, please tell me all these people here means you found something,” Dean pleaded, and Rowena guided the slightly trembling Omega to a seat in front of a bowl full of ingredients for a spell, and you took the one next to Dean; taking his hand in yours to give him a sense of security as much as you could. 

“Well, we think we have found something that can be tried,” Sam said, moving to the spell book that was open at the end of the table as Rowena grabbed your laced hands, and placed a twine of what looked to be rope laced with lavender around both of your wrists. 

“Apparently, you two aren’t the first to feel like you were born with the wrong presentations,” Rowena explained, adding a few more ingredients to the bowl before plucking a piece of hair from each of your heads. 

“So this spell is going to virtually swap our presentations?” you questioned, looking between the three other people in the room. 

“That’s the idea,” Cas answered, folding his arms over his chest. "I’m here just in case anything goes south and you guys need a quick healing.”

“The spell is painless,” Rowena interjected, seeing Dean’s worried expression as his gaze shifted between you and Cas. “But the spell will change you on a molecular level, so Castiel’s presence is just a precaution, really.” 

“You ready for this,” Sam asked his brother, who then looked at you with worry swimming in the green depths of his eyes. 

“You sure you want to do this with me. That you won't regret it?” Dean asked, and you tightened your grip on his hand in assurance. 

“I told you, Dean, I want to do this as much as you do,” you assured him and he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“Okay, do it,” Dean said to the room, and as if on cue Rowena began chanting over the bowl, her eyes glowing a bright purple before she struck a flame to the contents and a warm feeling rushed through your body as the twine around your wrist disintegrated in a flash of light. 

For just a moment, it seemed as if the world stood still as the whole room watched the two of you, and for a moment you were afraid nothing had changed. That was until you caught Dean’s scent. It was stronger, more potent than you had ever smelled it. Warm sandalwood and whiskey with just a hint of mint, and your mouth literally watered at the scent. 

You opened your eyes just in time to see the yellow glow of the Alpha now residing in your mate’s eyes fade as his gaze locked with your own, and a deep rumble growl erupted from his chest as he pulled you into his lap like he was scenting you for the first time. 

“Fuck, you smell amazing, Omega,” he said, rooting around your mating gland with his nose before lapping at where your claiming mark would very soon reside. Slick was already gathering in your panties just from him touching you, and everything was so intense it was almost breathtaking. This is what you had always been missing. It felt right, and for the first time in his arms, you felt like you were finally home as you purred against him.

Sam clearing his throat loudly reminded you both that you had an audience, and Dean reluctantly pulled away from you to glare at his little brother with annoyance. 

“Well, I take it the spell worked,” Rowena chuckled before grabbing Sam by the arm. “Come on you two, let’s leave them to it. They need to get reacquainted with each other.” 

They made a quick exit, and you and Dean watched as they retreated up the stairs and completely out of the bunker, leaving you alone with your Alpha. 

“Well, looks like we have to get 'reacquainted',” you told Dean, looking up at him and finding his lust-filled gaze staring down darkly at you. 

You noticed he was sitting a lot straighter and looked all together more stronger. It suited him. You also noticed that your old claiming mark was gone as you ran your fingers over the empty space over where it used to lay over his now smooth skin, and a shiver ripped through his body. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby girl,” he rumbled, lifting you with ease and carrying you towards your shared room. 

It was as if your body was already in tune with your new Alpha, and every step Dean took towards his room, the wetter you became.  The light cramps of your first heat were already licking at your abdomen, making you whimper and nuzzle closer to him and his scent. 

Once you were in his room and the door kicked closed behind the both of you, Dean made quick work of the clothes that were covering both of your bodies and was now hovering over you, exploring your body as if he was seeing it for the first time again. His lips making trails, memorizing what makes you tick all over once more, taking your breast into his warm mouth, sucking and lapping at your body until you were all but begging him for his knot. 

“Hang on Omega, I got to warm you up first,” he murmured against your lips and you shivered as his fingers descended on your slick folds, running through them before breaching your entrance with ease. He pumped and curled them, adding a second finger, then a third; pressing his thumb against your throbbing clit as your body fell apart around his fingers and he scissored you open, preparing you for his knot as he kissed you drunk, swallowing your moans as pure pleasure washed over your body. 

You whined at the loss of his fingers when he finally removed them from your body, and he chucked against your lips, pecking them softly, and nibbling along your lower lip.

“Please, Alpha,” you beg him. “I need you to knot me, stop teasing.” 

Dean grunts lowly in his throat, licking at your mating gland and rutting his already leaking cock through your folds, making your body arch off the bed to meet him in a silent plea to be fully filled by him.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you calling me Alpha, sweetheart,” he admitted kissing you deeply. “Gonna take such good care of you Omega.”

You shivered at the mention of your new presentation while nipping at the skin of his throat. 

“Turn over and present for your Alpha, pretty girl, let me see what’s mine,” he commanded, and before the words were all the way out of his mouth you were on all fours, presenting for him. The deep approving growl that fell out of his mouth had slick literally siding down your thighs. 

“So fucking beautilful, baby girl,” he praised as he slowly pressed the tip of his cock into your waiting heat. “This pussy mine baby girl, all this slick because of me?”

“It’s all yours, Alpha, all for you,” you told him with a keen as he snapped his hips forward and seated himself fully inside your heat with a deep groan. 

All thought process, all words, everything flew right out the window as humanity faded away and pure animalistic instinct took over as Dean pounded relentlessly into you, driving you higher and higher until you could feel his cock swelling further and his knot starting to catch with every thrust. His fingers slipped from your hips to your clit and he began to rub furiously in time with his pace until you were screaming his name and coming around his knot as it locked the two of you place as he lifted you body against his, his teeth latching deep in your throat, calling you as his as he spilled into you, filling you with his cum. 

When you finally came down from your high, Dean was licking at your new claiming mark, healing it only the way an Alpha could, and he was lowering you both so that now you were on your sides. 

“You okay, Omega?” He asked, purring as he nuzzled into your hair, reveling in your scent that was mixed with his own. 

“Perfect, Alpha,” you said, slipping down deeper into his hold.

For a long time no words were said, no words were needed. The unexplainable peace that was between you was enough. For the first time, everything was as it should have been all along.

Dean always knew, he just knew he was never meant to be born as an Omega. It was something deep down inside of him that just was always there from the moment he presented, and the same was for you. For the first time. Everything felt right. 

“You know, maybe we can try to have pups now,” you said after a while and Dean’s body had already been detached from your own. 

“What?” Dean asked, sitting up on his elbow and tucking the strand of your hair away from your face that had fallen. 

“Maybe we can have pups now. I mean, It’s not as dangerous for me to carry them, and now that I’m an Omega we don't hide my heats away. I could stay here at the Bunker and raise the pup and help with research...I don’t know. It’s just something I want with you now.”

Dean thought for a moment before bringing his lips to yours in a slow kiss, one that made your toes curl. 

“You know what sweetheart, I think I like that idea. A lot.” Dean admitted. 

This was the first day of the rest of your new lives together, and now there was a chance to have a family, and Dean knew then. He was really and truly finally at home in his own skin for the first time. 

“I love you, ya know,” he told you, slipping your leg over his hips and sliding his already hardening length into your still slick center. “My pretty Omega.”

“I love you too, Alpha,” you  purred as he slowly started to rock his hips into you, dragging his cock through your heat and sending waves of deep pleasure through your body. “Now fuck a pup into me baby. You know how impatient I am,” you teased him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed. There was a promise laced in that chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the first of many promises he intended to make good on, and you couldn’t wait to start a family with him. Your Dean, your Alpha.

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[ahgaseda]

wolf boys || chapter 19

⇥ synopsis : being the young alpha female over a pack of misbehaving werewolves is no easy task and is made even more complicated when the time comes to choose a mate...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring violence or mentions of blood, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

It had been a week since Jaebeom returned and the mood in the house shifted.

For one, you dragged him to the bedroom immediately and celebrated the success of heat.

But if you thought heat hormones were rough, pregnancy threw her head back and laughed.

Your breasts were swelling and damn, did they ache. Just the way your nipples brushed your shirt was moan-inducing. Between your legs fared no better. You had never been this sensitive.

Increasing blood flow. Rising hormone levels. Your baby was thriving, casting a glow across your skin.

But damn if it didn’t come with side effects.

Temperamental was an understatement. One minute you could be kissing Jackson like you wanted to suck the soul out of him and the next you were chasing him from the house for sneezing too loudly.

On two occasions you sat in your nest and cried. Your body felt like a nerve laid raw, every brush of air making you twinge with stimulation. And when you weren’t eating everything in sight, you were using Jinyoung as a pillow and filling the house with the echoing sound of your snores.

It wasn’t your fault. Wolves grew faster than humans. What should have taken nearly ten months would take you about six, if you were lucky. You were in an endless state of conjuring magic, pumping it into the veins of your growing baby. It was taxing, to say the least.

Your alpha pheromones were overwhelming. The wolf boys took mere glances at you and wanted to bow in submission. Even Jaebeom had to take periodic moments away from you. Your scent smothered him. So did your emotional outbursts.

It was on one of his rounds through the forest, patrolling the border as he always did, that you were left with Mark.

Everything Mark did was mouth-watering. Every line of his muscles made your tongue dart out and wet your lips. You thought about the way he had trailed kisses up your neck, eager to distract you and make you feel good.

Another surge of hormones coursed through your body and you shivered. Your mind filled with images of Mark sighing in pleasure, filling you to the brim and shoving his tongue down your throat. At the moment, all you were aware of was the thrumming and tightening between your legs.

Sidling next to him on the couch, you called, “Mark?”

Mark had the benefit of being a sigma. He didn’t flinch at your imbalances like the others did. He could sense them coming a mile away. “Yes, alpha?”

They always addressed you by your rank now. It made you haughty with pride. You inched closer until you were snug against his side, until there was no space between you and him. Leaning in, you rested your chin on his shoulder and whispered darkly, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Mark knew that tone anywhere and the corners of his mouth lifted. Turning his head, Mark murmured, “Right now? Your scent.”

Hormones were colliding like explosive reactions inside you. You were ravenous and you straddled his lap without hesitation.

Mark gazed up at you, biting his lip to hide a smile, and rested his hands on your thighs. He knew you had an itch that needed scratching, but he still released a tiny grunt when you landed squarely on his crotch.

You held his face in your hands, staring into his golden eyes, and whispered, “I need you. I need you to fill me.”

“I want you,” he growled, hands gripping your ass. “Since day one.”

You brushed your nose against his and sighed, “Then, have me.”

There was hesitation. “But, you’re…”

You shook your head and told him, “You won’t hurt either of us.”

That was all he needed to know. Mark closed the distance between your mouths, sealing his lips to yours in a kiss filled with hunger. He was starved for your love and you were needy for his.

You were kissing Mark endlessly and he was drowning in the warmth and scent of you. His hands roamed up and down your back and you moaned softly into his mouth. Your skin felt hotter to the touch than normal and Mark could barely imagine the scalding heat of you wrapping around him.

Finally, you broke away to rock back on his thighs, hands going to his zipper and tugging down. You slipped your hand into his boxers, grasping his hard length.

“Fuck,” Mark grunted, sucking in a breath at feeling your grip on him. He wandered his hands up your long t-shirt, finding your panties and raking his fingers through your clothed folds, growling when he found you wet.

Any other day you would have taken your time and indulged his and your every whim. You could sense Mark wanted that and you would gladly give it to him after you took the edge off of your need.

You lifted your hips, steering his cock to your entrance. Mark hooked his fingers in your underwear and tugged them to the side. You sank down on him ever so slowly, swallowing his cock in your tight velvet walls.

Mark let his head fall back against the couch, eyes winching closed. “Fu… ck,” he whimpered shakily. He couldn’t believe how easily he slipped inside. You were so wet, soaked with arousal until it painted the inside of your thighs.

You bent your knees at his hips and leaned forward, taking every last inch of him inside and exhaling loudly with satisfaction. Teasing your fingers into his hair, brushing the loose strands from his forehead, you called, “Mark?”

He opened his eyes, golden irises like molten honey.

You rolled your hips, tightening your grip on his hair, and brushed your lips over his own, “Don’t take your eyes off of me.”

Yes, alpha, rumbled in your mind.

Smirking, you began to ride him, lifting yourself up and down, sheathing him inside your dripping cunt over and over again. Mark felt himself twitch at how aggressively you worked him, how you were using him to get yourself off. You angled your hips, almost recoiling when your swollen clit rubbed against him.

Mark did his best to obey your command, but he lost himself to the pleasure of you. “Fuck me,” he growled, squeezing your ass in his broad hands.

A wet slap echoed through the room where your bodies met. You threw your head back, hair tumbling down between your shoulders, and picked up the pace. Never would you have imagined yourself fucking Mark on the sofa like a pair of half-grown wolves with no control of their impulses, but here you were.

You were chasing orgasm. You needed it so badly, needed desperately to unravel the knot deep in your core. All of the tension had been building in the pit of your stomach until you finally tore it free.

It took nothing for you to come. You were too overly sensitive with hormones. Your eyes rolled and you moaned, arching your back and reaching behind you to balance your hands on his thighs.

Mark gripped your hips none too gently and rocked in tandem with you, coaxing you through your high until you came back down and buried your face in his neck.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, thrusting up into you.

“You can come in me, baby,” you sighed, kissing the top of his shoulder with your wet lips.

Mark’s little sounds and noises made you smile faintly. He rutted himself into you, careful not to be too rough, but his movements were erratic and uneven. Another pump of his cock and he released inside, moaning and panting for breath.

You tightened your walls on him, flexing your hips, and sucked beneath his ear. Mark could barely handle all of the stimulation at once and his voice in your mind was a constant pleading for mercy.

Finally he stilled, slumping back against the couch. You giggled at the vacant look in his eyes, like he couldn’t think straight.

“You alright?” you asked softly, fighting a laugh.

Mark nodded, craning up to press a kiss to your lips. “You feel so good,” he rasped.

You purred, “So do you.”

Mark held your waist as you clambered off of him and lay on the sofa at his side. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, still catching your breaths. After a moment, you shifted closer, letting your head rest on his thigh. Mark stroked a thumb over your cheek, before playing with your hair.

“Nervous?”

“No,” you said with a chuckle. “Not even a little. Is that weird?”

He shook his head and hummed, “I don’t think so.”

You thought about it and replied, “It just feels like a natural process.”

“I guess it should.”

You quipped, “These hormones are wild though, huh?”

Mark chuckled. “I’m not complaining.”

You giggled.

Jaebeom stepped through the back door, his gaze dark. Mark was quick to zip up his pants. The alpha male cast his attention from you to Mark, then back to you, annoyed that he had not been the one to provide release.

On your back, you turned to get a better look at him and crooned, “Have a good walk, dear?”

Jaebeom cocked a brow and retorted, “Have a good ride, alpha?”

You nodded. “Mm.”

Jaebeom approached the couch, lifting your legs. He sat down and brought them over his lap, palming your bare thigh and placing a territorial hand across your stomach.

You expected nothing less from your domineering mate. Letting your eyes flutter closed, you expected to drift to sleep between your two wolf boys.

Mark suddenly cradled your head and rose from the couch, setting you down gently. Then, he escaped outside without a word.

Warmth bubbled in your chest, gathering and rising until your face felt hot. You turned slowly to Jaebeom, eyes narrowed. “I really can’t deal with your insufferable, jealous ass right now,” you sneered.

Jaebeom gawked, swallowing the lump in his throat. “What did I do now?”

“Because of you I’m a walking disaster,” you hissed at him. “Do you see I can’t even wear a bra anymore? None of them fit!”

Jaebeom glanced down where your shirt hugged your chest and quickly centered back on your face. “I did notice that. Yes.”

You frowned, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, feeling your rage. “I take full responsibility for the… breasts.”

Growling, you sat up, lifting from the couch.

At a loss of what to do to soothe your wrath, Jaebeom called after you confusedly, “Where are you going?”

“I need my pillow,” you whined, opening the back door and sticking your head out. You yelled at the top of your lungs, “Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung appeared in seconds, stepping into the house, and chanted, “I’m here. I’m here.”

You pointed at Jaebeom, tears filling your eyes. “He upset me.”

“I know,” Jinyoung cooed, wrapping an arm around you. “He has no idea how much discomfort you’re in.”

“No idea,” you echoed with a pout.

Jaebeom stood there, dumbfounded.

Jinyoung shot him a look, calling in his mind where you couldn’t hear,  We have a month of this. For the love of god, learn to be quiet.

Jaebeom scowled, watching irritably as Jinyoung ushered you to the bedroom.

Jackson returned from outside then, approaching his alpha and patting him on the shoulder. “And whatever you do, don’t sneeze. She’ll look at you like you woke the dead.”

“And I thought heat was the hard part,” Jaebeom grumbled under his breath.

Jackson laughed. “Don’t ever let her hear you say that.”

chapter 18 ⇤ chapter 19 ⇥ chapter 20

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[saganarojanaolt]

Soft Mornings

Short story inspired by the group chat for the amazing Bound to You series, written by @riotwritesthings​ @crownofstardustandbone​. The series link can be found on AO3 here. 

The reader pinged green under his metal arm, and the door slid open with a quiet whoosh.

The workshop was quiet, the silence deep, not even the usual background whirl of machinery could be heard. There were no cluster of holograms lighting up the place, just the ambient lights providing illumination. 

“Good morning, Doll” Tony lifted his head, roused by the sound of Bucky’s gentle knocking. For a second he was overwhelmed with how adorable Tony was, his hair a rat’s nest, mussed up from sleep, before an actual  mouse popped out of Tony’s hair, disgruntled by the unexpected movement. Bucky was far too charmed to do anything else, but smile at the sleepy inventor. 

Tony’s face lit up with adoration and happiness, though it was a toss up if it was for Bucky or for the coffee in his hands. 

“Bucky!” Tony made grabby hands, forgetting for a second the desk between them. 

Bucky stumbled trying to find his words in the face of Tony’s adoring smile. “I see you found the mouse” He could feel his cheeks flushing red. Seeing Tony’s confusion, that may not have been the best thing to say. Not before the first cup of coffee at least. 

Stepping closer, he gently placed the cup in front of him, Tony reaching for it even before it hit the table. “Here, Coffee for you” 

The mouse disturbed by the movement, scuttled down from Tony’s hair onto his shoulders, which also seemed to alert Tony to its presence. He seemed to consider it for a moment, but with a soft huh turned back to his coffee, deeming it more important of the two. 

Bucky watched, waiting for the coffee to make its effects and battling the urge to pull Tony into a hug. He wanted to wrap his arms around the genius, skin against skin, and burrow his face into Tony’s neck, breath him in. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by Tony intervening their hands and pulling him close. Suddenly Tony was way closer, and Bucky could feel the heat radiating off of him. Tony gently brushed his lips against his cheek, whispering into his ear with a still sleepy voice. “Thank you, tesoro” 

—————————————————————————————————

Fills: 

Bucky Barnes Bingo: @buckybarnesbingo​

Title: Soft Mornings 

Collaborator: SaganaRojanaOlt

Link:N/A

Square Filled: B3 - Soft

Ship: WinterIron (Bucky/Tony)

Rating: T

Major Tags: none 

Summary: what it says on the tin - a soft morning 

Word Count: 368

Kisses Bingo! - the last art @bingokisses​ Square Filled: Free Space - Brush of lips 

[pherryt]

I DID IT! Bingo Blackout!

I was starting to worry about making it because a few of the squares gave me some trouble. But apparently, I didn't really need to worry too much. I not only finished, I accidentally double filled the same square twice.

...

Only me. So it's not like it counts towards anything extra, but since both were written with the bingo in mind, I'm leaving them both in here. I double filled the Free square which, to me, somehow feels fitting.

To make the list a little easier to peruse, I've arranged it by Rating. All artwork is G rated, so those are listed first, then G rated fics. E at the end, anything else (all 2 of them) between.

Thank you to the @buckybarnesbingo​ !  Find the AO3 Series Here

Rated G - Art/Moodboards

C4 - Bucky/Clint - Winterbirbs Art  WinterHawk and/or any combination of the four of them together (Bucky/Clint/Sam/Bobbi or Bucky/Sam, Bucky/Clint, Clint/Bobbi)

K1 - Undercover as Tourists - Art  Winterhawk, No words

Y4 - Marriage - Till Death Do Us Part - Moodboard  Winterhawk, Wordcount 0

Y2 - Wings - Unexpected - Moodboard WinterWidowHawk, Wordcount 955

K5 - Found Family - Art and (almost) Drabble  Bucky, Steve, Clint, Tony, Rhodey, Thor, Natasha, Sam, Bruce Wordcount 163

Rated G - FICS:

U3 - Soulmates - No Use Crying Over Spilt Milkshakes  AmeriWinterHawk, Wordcount 5553

Y5 - Bed Sharing - Home Remedies  Bucky Barnes/Eddie Brock, Disaster Trio: Bucky Barnes/Eddie Brock/Clint Barton, Symbrock, Wordcount 2800

B5 - Tell Me - Chance Encounter Winterhawk, Wordcount 7259

*** Free Square #1 - Return to Hawkeye Winterhawk, Wordcount 5838

*** Free Square #2 - The Search for Clint Winterhawk, Supernatural Crossover, Wordcount 2924

B3 - Learning to be Loved - Clint's Hugging Service Winterhawk, Wordcount 7612

B4 - Nerds - Clint's Big Secret Winterhawk, Wordcount 2535

Sticking Around (Sequel to Phil's Kids) Pre Winterhawk, Wordcount 7704

Chapter 1: U1 - Kidfic Chapter 3: U5 - Boardgames

Make it Home Winterhawk, Wordcount 17909

Chapter 3 - B1: Teambonding Chapter 4 - Y3: Stark Tower Chapter 5 - C2: Knitting

Other Ratings:

Y1 - Waiting for Extraction - Man Overboard  (With bonus art by @ghoulizard  ) Winterhawk, Rated T, Wordcount 6322

K2 - Winter is Coming - Winter's Promise Chapter 2 Nicky/Joe (Old Guard), Nicky/Joe/Bucky, Rated M, Wordcount 13555

Rated E

U4 - Cat - Broken Angels: Chapter 23 AmeriWinterWidowHawk,  Dark(er) fic, Wordcount: 62812

k3 - Hurt/Comfort - Chapter 2 of Their Unmaking Winterhawk, Rated E, Wordcount 11885

C5 - Clothes Stealing - First and Last Night Stucky,  Wordcount 5554

U2 - Nesting - Repercussions Sam/Bucky/Clint, A/B/O dynamics, Wordcount 5049

K4 - Missing Scene - In the Spaces Between Stucky, Rating E, Wordcount 3554

What About Us? Winterhawk, A/B/O dynamics, Wip, Current Wordcount 21019

Chapter 1 - C1: One Night Stand Chapter 2 - B2: Kink: Sex Friends

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Finding Us Chapter 21

Alright! Here I am at last with another Tim chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it. 

AO3 Link

~

Tim couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling up in his chest at the idea of progress in the stalker case. It fueled his desire to keep moving in other directions, while he waited on Damian to finish his sketch he dove back into work on the Alkali case.

Currently, he was trying once again not to backseat hack as Barbara was finally digging through the Alkali’s files. After their trip to the physical location, Babs had used the access gained through Stephanie to create her own back door and they’d sat on that for a little while to make sure no one found it.

It was early the morning after Damian’s encounter with the creepy man and Tim was in the belfry standing over Barbara’s shoulder because there was nothing to currently do on the stalker case. Tim hadn’t recognized Damian’s sketch of the guy he’d seen, and so they were waiting on facial recognition to grab his identity. The kid’s sketch was definitely good enough for the system to pick something up, they just had to wait.

“Have you found anything interesting yet?” he asked, trying not to bounce on his toes.

“Lots. Nothing we’re looking for. Though, there is a guy here who’s last name is Bandersnatch, which is pretty cool.”

She was teasing, but Tim could also hear the note of warning in her voice. When she found what they were looking for she’d tell him, and he shouldn’t keep pushing. He sighed, and turned to step across the room, over to a mini fridge installed for snacks.

“Want a soda?” he called.

She shook her head, “It’s too early for that, toss me a tea.” she answered.

He grabbed a bottle of tea out for Babs and a can of orange soda for himself and moved back over to the computer.

“Thanks for helping on this.” he said, handing her the tea, then cracking open his soda.

“Of course, the sooner we get these guys the better.”

Tim agreed, and sipped at his soda while he played a matching game on his phone in an attempt to both distract and stop himself from tossing advice Barbara’s way. He got stuck on a particularly difficult level and found himself totally lost in it for a while, trying again and again to win. It made the waiting a lot easier, even if he also kind of wanted to toss his phone out the window and watch it crash at the bottom of the building.  

“Got something.” Babs said at last.

Tim looked up bleary eyed, blinking away red diamonds and orange squares. It took his brain a moment to register what she’d said before he stood up, the chair shaking.

“Great!” he hurried over to look at the screen again, “What’d you find?”

“Well, under the private files I found some that were locked with a password, after cracking that I found these.”

The file she’d opened was filled with unreadable text.

“It’s encrypted?” Tim asked.

“I think it’s some kind of cypher. See it follows a sort of pattern. Nothing too overt or easy like a caesar cipher. It’s got to have a key.”

Tim hummed, she was right, the text was filled with letters and numbers and broken up in a way that looked like lines of real text, if they’d been in any kind of legible order.

“Well then we’d better get to cracking it.”

They worked for a couple hours trying to figure out what cypher had been used, and testing various codes to no avail. Eventually they decided to give it some time to breathe, and their brains time to think of new ideas. Babs forwarded him the files so he could keep looking over them later and Tim left her to work on other projects.

As he was leaving, he found Cassandra waiting for him down at the base of the Belfry. She was eating a cinnamon roll like it was a doughnut.

“Hey.” she said, handing him a cup of coffee, and shaking her wrist and the plastic bag hanging off it.

Tim took the offered cup, then tugged the bag off her free hand checking inside. A second cinnamon roll sat tucked into a nest of napkins. He fished it out, careful not to spill his drink then copied Cass, taking a huge bite out of the side.

It was still warm, and the taste of cinnamon and sugar danced across his tongue in a way that made him think of home. Of early Saturday mornings with Alfred, stirring together a bowl of butter, sugar, and cinnamon so the man could carefully spread it across dough. Or of Bruce dropping off a few in his room, ruffling his hair, and telling him he should probably finish his homework before working on another case.

“Ready to head back?” she asked.

He washed down the bite of bread with some coffee and nodded, “Yeah, I think Babs and I have done all we can. How’re things back at the manor?”

Cass shrugged, “Everyone is still waiting on the results of the search, so they all split up to work on other things.”

They moved to the car Cass had brought to pick him up in, it was one of Bruce's many cars, black and not too fancy. Tim held a hand out for the keys and after an eye roll Cass dropped them in his palm.

“I drove here.” she argued.

“You drive too fast for me and my coffee.” he replied.

“Fair.” she shrugged.

As Tim pulled away from the clocktower, still munching on his cinnamon roll Cass pipped back up.

“Can we stop at the craft store?”

He glanced at her, “Sure, but why?”

“Damian wanted some more colored pencils. He sent a list and asked me to stop if I had time.” She tugged a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and opened it to show him.

A detailed list of colors, brands, and what not to buy’s filled the page in Damian’s neat, tight, handwriting. Tim was surprised to find a little picture of a dog at the bottom of the page, it wasn’t as detailed as Damian usually did, and smiling for some reason.

“He drew it as a thank you, and promised to make me a better one with the pencils.” Cass said, catching where Tim’s eye had fallen, then she added, “Eyes on the road.”

Tim flicked the turn signal on the car to indicate he needed to go left, towards the craft store Damian frequented, “Why didn’t he come if he wanted to restock?”

Cass shrugged again, and folded the paper instead of crumpling it back up. She set it in her lap, fingers tapping on the paper with gentle tip taps.

Damian rarely missed a chance to get his own art supplies. He was as picky about them as Tim was over film or lenses for his cameras. Sure it was just a few replacement pencils, but even those Tim knew Damian would linger over for an hour if he was left to it. He wondered briefly if his mild concussion had anything to do with staying home. Maybe Alfred had told him he couldn’t leave? But no, it had been days at this point, he was probably cleared at last for most activities.

Maybe it was because he knew Cass was headed to pick up Tim.

He tried not to think too hard on that thought. They hadn’t really talked much lately. Both had been busy with their own things, and besides that, they didn’t really talk a lot to begin with. He’d thought they were doing better, but at the same time Tim knew they weren’t.

Tim reached out to snatch his coffee and take a sip from it. Now that he thought about it, maybe they were doing better after all. Damian had called him by his first name the night before. And he’d gone looking for clues as to Tim’s stalker. A queasy feeling bubbled up in Tim’s stomach. He’d been quick to dismiss Damian’s attempted apology back when they’d been at the mall, and now he was starting to wonder if he'd been really trying to mend that bridge. T im loved the idea of having a little brother, and way back when he'd first met Damian he'd been happy to have one, for all of two seconds. Still, sometimes he thought they had found that perfect spot of being siblings, and other times it felt like there was a gaping hole between them. Especially lately.

He pulled into the store’s parking lot not even realizing they’d made it there, his body on autopilot. Cass cheered as she climbed out of the car, and Tim stayed quiet.

When he looked up at the storefront he figured it out.

He might be jealous. Of the squirt.

Maybe it wasn't their past that was bothering him so much lately, but their present. Tim thought he'd shaken off those feelings in regards to Jason and Damian, but maybe he hadn't. Even in the wake of the family’s eyes turning on him Tim still couldn’t stop thinking about how Damian seemed to draw everyone in all the time. Dick, then Jason, Bruce with his fretting after they’d gotten hurt. It was--it was like he fit in a way Tim couldn’t quite imagine himself fitting again.  Like they were both the same piece, and there was only one spot left on the puzzle, and Damian had swooped in just in time to fill it. Even now, he felt odd about the attention. Like the moment everything was done his family would stop looking at him again. Stop seeing Tim, because he’d messed up. He’d failed to be the one to fix everything and he no longer deserved to be seen.

“Tim?”

“Coming!” he said, locking the car door.

Inside he was hit with the smell of paint and paper. The whole place was a kaleidoscope of colors and supplies crammed together in a space that should have felt cluttered, but instead actually seemed homely. He followed Cass to the pencils and held each as she selected them, reading Damian’s list carefully, then making Tim double check “ just in case” .

He thought they’d be in and out, but once they’d found Damian’s stuff Cass insisted on browsing. Tim followed her, feeling a bit like Titus pattering after Damian as he instructed the dog on something very un-dog-like and soon his arms were full.

Cass had added extra packs of less high quality colored pencils, crayons, thin markers --not thick, because apparently those didn’t trace well-- and made him pick out a coloring book. She selected one full of animals, and Tim picked one that was more abstract. Like black and white stained glass. He and Cass locked eyes on an adult swear word coloring book and both grinned.

“For Jason?” Tim asked.

“And one for Dick.” Cass grinned.

Soon they’d selected adult coloring books for the whole family. Some simply because they knew they’d get a laugh out of them, and others from the knowledge of the recipient getting genuine delight from it.

By the time they left, Tim was feeling better. His day brightened even more when Cass hooked an arm through his at home, and dragged him into the living room.

“We are going to color and watch She-Ra.” she declared.

He could have argued and said he had work to do. But he knew Cass would tell him a break was good. And wasn’t that what he’d just told Babs? He could have fallen into other cases or dug out his 3Ds to play some Animal Crossing. But the best idea in the whole world right then was sitting on the floor and coloring with his sister, and he wasn’t going to pass it up.

He filled in two whole pages, first lined with marker --Cass had been right about the thin ones-- then colored in as dark as he could with his own box of colored pencils. At some point the sounds of She-Ra had been turned down as he and Cass chatted about everything.

She told stories of an adventure with Steph. He talked about Mindbender and how weird it was to have Jason in the house again. Then about how cool it was to have Jason in the house. Cass told him about a ballet she’d seen. All of it, whether it was little nothings or big changes, ebbed and flowed to the scritch scritch of pencil on paper, and legs folded up or kicked into the air.

At some point, Alfred brought in cocoa and water. Then sandwiches. Dick breezed through and gasped over his book, stopping to color in all of an F before getting bored and breezing back out. Jason cackled over his book, and then genuinely thanked them for thinking of him. Damian collected his pencils, didn’t complain about a single one, and stared at his own book of animals to color like it was made of gold before tucking it under an arm and scurrying away.

Bruce stayed the longest, lounging on a couch to add his own commentary between theirs, infrequent, but enough to say “I’m here, I’m listening, I love you.” before he too was called away. He planted a kiss on each of their heads before leaving.

It was Stephanie who broke up the peace. Showing up like a tornado, and stirring them from settled spaces into laughter. They traded pencils for controllers and fired up Smash Brothers for a wholly different, but still perfect, adventure.

There, surrounded in waves by his family Tim wondered if he’d been wrong earlier. If maybe the puzzle had room for all of them. And every time someone new came in, it just expanded and made room for them. He certainly felt like he fit in, and it was really nice.

[superbadassnatural]

Thunderstorm

Summary: Jack doesn’t like storms. When loud thunders keep him awake at night, he decides to search for the comfort of the person he trusts the most. Square filled: Thunderstorm Pairing: Sam x reader, Jack x mother figure!reader Word count: 1,071 Warnings: fluff A/N: This was written for @spntfwbingo​. Please enjoy!

(x)

It had been raining for nearly four hours now. Loud cracks of thunder reverberating overhead. The storm was raging outside and even though you enjoy the sound of raindrops, this was too much. You found yourself worried about the possibility of power faltering.

You nuzzled into Sam’s chest. Your arm wrapped around his waist, legs tangled. His hand placed on your hip, keeping you close to him.

“I don’t like this,” you mumbled.

“I know,” Sam kisses the top of your head. “It’ll stop soon,” a sigh escaped your lips and his hold on you tightened.

It had been quite a while since it last rained like this in Lebanon. It felt as if the bunker couldn’t take this much. But you know it’s just you being paranoid. It would take more than a thunderstorm to take down the bunker.

“I can’t sleep,” you said, propping on your elbow to meet Sam’s closed eyes. “You on the other hand…”

“I’m awake,” he mumbled. “Just tired, honey,” sighing, he opened his eyes slowly. “I thought you liked to sleep with the sound of rain.” Hazel eyes under furrowed brows stared back at you.

“I do,” you whined. “But not like this. Thunderstorms always freaked me out a little. Since I was a tiny Y/N.”

“You’re still tiny,” a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Real funny, Sam.” you glared at him.

“You know I love you,” he pecked your lips. “But how come Y/N Winchester, a badass hunter who I’ve seen taking down an entire nest of vampires, be afraid of thunderstorms?”

“I’m not afraid,” you scoffed, laying your head on his bare chest once again. “It just bothers me,” you shrugged. “It used to scare the crap outta me when I was a kid. I’m not afraid anymore, but I’d really enjoy it if it cease a bit so I can get some sleep.”

“Well, I can definitely help you forget about all this thunderstorm crap outside,” His lips curled in a smirk as he rolled over, pinning you underneath him. You grinned before crashing your lips to his. A knock on the door made you part. Sam groaned as he laid on his back. “C’mon in.”

The door opened. Whoever was on the other side was reluctant. As the person stepped inside your room, you realized it was Jack.

“Hey Jack,” you smiled, sitting up.

“What’s up, buddy?” Sam asked kindly.

“I can’t sleep,” he mumbled, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“What do you think is keeping you awake, Jack?” your voice was soft. “C’mere.” you patted the empty space in front of you, motioning for him to sit.

“I don’t know. I- I have this weird feeling inside me,” his eyes were glued on the floor, his hands resting on his thighs. “And this is bothering me,” he pointed out as the sound of a loud thunder echoed.

“Jack, are you scared of thunderstorms?” Sam's voice barely upon a whisper not wanting to draw the nephilim away.

“I- I don’t know, but it makes me feel on edge and I feel like I should use my powers to keep that from hurting us.” he frowned.

The young man had experienced some feelings throughout his one year and a half. Fear might not be one of them.

“Jack, sweetie, there’s no need to do that,” you reached for his hand as you noticed his eyes turning yellow in a split second. “It’s really okay and it’s not gonna hurt you.”

“But why do I feel this way?”

“Because you’re afraid, Jack,” you smiled sympathetically. “And that’s completely normal.”

“I don’t understand, Y/N,” his brows knitted together as he turned to look at you. “This isn’t a normal storm. This could be dangerous. Someone could be doing this to harm us. Lucifer-“ he trailed off. His voice rose as anger started to creep up in his gut.

“No, no, no, Jack, it’s nothing like that,” you stood up. Your hands cupping his cheeks so he could focus on you. “Thunderstorms are natural, Jack.”

“But-“

“When I was a kid, I used to be afraid of thunderstorms too,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory. “You know what my mom used to say to me?” Jack hummed. You had his full attention and you could’ve sworn you saw a spark of curiosity flash through his eyes. “That I shouldn’t be afraid cause every time I hear a loud thunder it’s actually God redecorating heaven. The loud cracks are the furniture being moved.”

“Is it true?”

“It can be if you want to.”

A comfortable silence fell in the room. Jack was trying to wrap his mind around what you’d said.

“Y/N?” he glanced at you, his brows furrowed. “Am I a kid?”

“Yeah, Jack, you are,” you offered him a sympathetic smile.

“But I don’t understand… I’m taller than you.”

“You’re right,” you chuckled. “You are taller than me, but see… I’m 28 years old. You’re 1 year old. You’re not a kid, Jack. You’re a baby.”

His lips curled into a smile. Jack glanced at Sam and then you. He had a feeling he was disturbing. He thought he was the reason why you weren’t asleep.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” he said sheepishly, standing up. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay to be afraid, Jack,” you smiled. “You gonna be okay? Do you want us to stay with you till you fall asleep?”

“No, you don’t have to. Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “Good night.”

“Night, Jack,” you and Sam said in unison. Jack left the room, shutting the door behind him. You laid back. Sam wrapped his arms around your middle and brought you closer to him. Your head rested on his chest, his lips pressing to your temple.

“Do you think Jack sees you as a mother figure?” his soft voice echoed in the room.

“Maybe?” you glanced up at him, eyebrow arched. “I mean, I’m the only woman around and we all live together… so yeah, I think he might see me as a mom or something. It’s kinda weird, y’know?”

“Why is that?”

“I’ve never ever seen myself as a mom to someone. I’ve never seen myself having kids of my own. I dunno. It’s weird.”

“Well, I think you’d make a perfect mom,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before turning off the bedside lamp. “You already are.”

What do you think of this one? Feel free to share your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask!

Sam Babes:

@maya-craziness​

Jack Nougats: 

@maya-craziness​

[holylulusworld]

A temporary thing

Title: A temporary thing

Square Filled for @spnabobingo​​​​​ (Round 6): Free Space: Nesting

Ship: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: You want to prepare a nest before you let Dean knot you.

Warnings: fluff, nesting, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, mentions of rut/heat/knotting, implied smut/claiming

Word Count:  1k+

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​​​​​​

SPN A/B/O Bingo masterlist

“We are not mated or something,” Dean grumbles, watching you snatch his favorite shirt out of his hands. “This is a temporary thing while you are in heat and I’m in rut.”

“I know,” placing the shirt onto his bed, you purr low in your throat. “Now if you could stop muttering, we got a nest to build. Give me a hand, Winchester.”

And just like that, you order the tall alpha around, tell him to move to the left, or place another sheet on his bed. “Why do I have to do this?”

“You want to knot me,” he nods eagerly, eyes drifting toward your exposed legs. You’re only wearing one of his shirts as he almost attacked his brother when you smelled like a different alpha. “Good, then you have to build a nest. I’m not mating with you on your sheets.”

“But,” he sighs, “we don’t need a nest for me to knot you, omega. I can just push you on hands and knees and take you apart." An animalistic snarl leaves his throat, and you purr in response.

“I’m not some random pussy,” you quip. “If you want to spend your rut with me, you’ll have to play by my rules. Now hand me the plaid from the chair. I need it,” holding out your hand you furrow your brows. “I’m waiting, Dean.”

“Fine, I’ll get you the plaid,” the alpha strolls toward the chair, sighing as he must prepare a nest with you instead of getting you naked as fast as possible. “Omegas are so demanding.”

“Alphas only want to get their knot wet,” you tut, patting Dean’s chest while you snatch the plaid out of his hands. “I hope yours is big and worth the effort.”

Dean snickers at your words but his eyes darken when you bend a little to pick up some more pillows. “I bet you’re tight.”

“Can you just not talk about my vagina right now? I must finish the nest before I gather all the things we will need.”

“I usually only get condoms, lube, and an energy bar,” Dean shrugs while you try to not scratch his eyes out. Your pre-heat is in full swing and Dean’s behavior doesn’t help much to calm your omega. “Maybe some water.”

“We are spending my heat and your rut together, Winchester. If you want to see my vagina, you must help me prepare everything. I need to feel calm, safe, and healthy to mate with an alpha.”

“Y/N, please don’t say vagina all the time. It makes little Dean feel bad,” grumbling the alpha hands you the last pillow. “Why don’t you call it pussy?”

“It’s my pussy and I can call her vagina anytime I want to!” growling the words you glare at Dean. “Now let me have a look at my list.”

“You have a mating list?” looking over your shoulder Dean grins. “There is no lube on your list or condoms.”

“I am on birth control, Winchester,” his hands grip your shoulders to keep you in place so he can bury his nose in your neck to inhale your scent deeply. “Dean.”

“So, you wanted the test to let me go in bare?” he tries, growling when you nod silently. “I knew you are hiding a dirty girl behind your sweet smile. You want me to fill this sweet cunt, make you cream my knot, and get you full of pups.”

“No pups, Dean! Now stop distracting me,” rereading your list you nod to yourself while Dean noses his way down your neck. “I got water, the nest is almost done, and energy bars.”

“Lube.”

“If you do your job right, we won’t need lube,” you state. “Can you do your job right?”

“I will make you so wet you’re going to drown in your own slick,” Dean growls, teeth nipping at your skin. “Can we start now? You know, to test if we are compatible.”

“No, Dean. We need to finish the nest and prepare anything else. This will be a long and exhausting week. We are talking about a marathon, not a sprint. Don’t make me regret my decision to choose you.”

“You’re cute,” Dean smirks against your skin, teeth grazing your mating gland. “Do you think I would’ve let you mate my brother?”

“What?”

“Little omega, you are mine,” he husks. “But don’t think I’m going to bite you or something. As I said, this is a temporary thing.”

“I know, now help me with the list, alpha,” humming Dean takes the list out of your hands to walk out of the room. “Okay, we need blankets, water, fruits, and more energy bars. I also need my special towels so you can clean me.”

“You’ve got a whole list to prepare yourself to get laid, awesome,” Dean snickers on his way toward the kitchen. “I get the food and water, you’ll get your ladies' stuff.”

“Gosh, you’re such an alpha. Good thing this is a temporary thing…”

“Soft, warm, and safe,” you curl in Dean’s side, sighing happily. “Good job, Dean. I guess you are not that bad at nesting. Tomorrow we can start with scenting and anything else.”

“Sex?” Dean groans when you crawl up his body to rest on top of him. “What are you doing? Y/N?”

“I wanna scent you now. Be a good alpha and tilt your head to give me access,” you purr, moving closer to bury your face in his neck. “Temporary or not, your scent ain’t that bad.”

“Call it what you want to, but that’s a damn good nest,” you giggle at Dean’s words.He cleaned the bed after you spend a whole week mating. In other words – you fucked like rabbits and soaked all layers of your nest.

“It’s not that bad,” you hum to yourself, fingers carefully brushing the mark Dean left at your neck. “Maybe I’m not that mad anymore.”

“You begged me for my mark,” Dean states, eyes glued to his claiming mark. “Now let’s test the new nest. I bet it’s softer than yours.”

“I’m a master, you’re just—” you jerk your head toward the bed. “Well, it ain’t that bad.” jumping on the bed you roll over to Dean’s side to rub your scent into his pillow.

The alpha watches you, a content smile on his lips. “Maybe having a permanent omega is not that bad…”

Tags in reblog.

[flamencodiva]

Who Do You Think You Are? 1

Description: Y/N Y/L/N and Dean Winchester seem to bump into each other quite frequently. What happens when these two hunters rub each other the wrong way?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Bingo Square: Free Space

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Drug Abuse.

The familiar thud of a head falling to the floor echoed along the empty barn. The figure looked around, slowly stepping over the fallen bodies on the floor looking for any more. Cleaning their machete they were about to leave when the barn door creaked open. The figure hid quickly as two tall men entered the barn. They stalked around before a gruff voice filled the empty air. 

“Did someone beat us to it?” his voice echoed, “Son of a bitch! Garth said no other hunters were in the area!” 

The figure pushed off the wall, their machete glistening in the dim light. “Sorry was this your hunt? I saw a girl get dragged in here and just went to town.” 

The two men watched as the figure walked into a brighter light before them. Dean froze as the figure before them was a woman. Dean looked at her up and down, the Led Zeppelin shirt under her flannel, a crop top showing her toned stomach just a bit. 

“Yeah this was our hunt,” Dean huffed, “Who the hell are you?” 

“Y/L/N… Y/N Y/L/N, “ she walked over and held out her hand to him only for him to ignore it. 

Sam, on the other hand, took it and gave her an apologetic smile. 

“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean,” he motioned to grumpy. 

“The Winchesters?” she looked between Sam and Dean, “Well, I guess I can see how you are exactly as people describe.” she looked at Sam before looking at Dean, “but you… I thought you’d be cuter… you look a little stumpy to me,” she shrugged earning a chuckle from Sam who stopped abruptly after one look from Dean. 

“Yeah… uh, look whatever you name was, this was supposed to be our hunt,” Dean walked up to her crossing his arms. “You had no right to take it from us.” 

“Oh? I had no right to save a girl from being monster food? Is that what you’re saying?” She placed her hand on her hips and raised her eyebrow at him. “And who the fuck do you think you are to tell me where I can and can’t hunt, huh?” she poked at his chest. 

“Did you just poke me?” Dean growled as he towered over her. 

“What if I did?” she challenged him back. 

“You are really getting on my nerves,” he clenched his jaw cheek twitching. 

“Oh no,” she placed her hand on her cheek, “I got on the big bad Dean Winchester’s nerves,” she rolled her eyes and pushed past him, her shoulder bumping into his. 

Dean gaped at her as she walked out of the barn. He clenched his fists as she walked away. 

“Who the hell does she think she is?” Dean growled to Sam. 

“Well, from what I’ve heard, she’s a damn good hunter and the proof is the bodies all around us,” Sam said as he looked around.  

“Yeah well I don’t like her,” Dean huffed, “she’s reckless and cocky and…” 

“A lot like you,”  Sam interjected as he raised an eyebrow at his brother. 

“She is nothing like me!” Dean argued as he looked at Sam. “For one I am sure I have WAY more experience than she does. And I also don’t just…” 

“Go off on your own and kill a dozen vamps?” Sam placed his machete in the trunk as Dean gave his little brother his best bitch face. 

“I was under a very, very, very old curse,” Dean defended as he climbed into the driver's side. “Let's just go try and hustle some money at the local pool hall.” 

With that Dean turned up the radio, to Sam’s dismay, and made his way to the local dive bar that was up the road. Heading inside, Dean made a beeline for the bar ordering a shot of whiskey. The familiar sounds of pool balls breaking music to his ears. 

Dean looked over at Sam after he asked the bartender for a refill, “what’s our cash look like?” 

“Pretty low,” Sam sighed. “Might need to hustle up some… or I could you know get a job for a short time?” 

“Takes too long,” Dean chuckled, “besides, we’re good at… you have got to be kidding me?” 

Sam followed Dean’s gaze and let out a small laugh, “Wow, we meet up with her, at two places in one night, what are the odds?” 

“Not good,” Dean grumbled as he downed his second shot of the night and ordered another one. “I’m going to go hustle us some money,” he turned away from Sam and made his way towards the pool tables. 

It wasn’t hard for Dean to find gullible frat boys - and with that, won them an easy three grand Once they left he leaned back against the railing and watched as Y/N hustled some bikers out of five grand. A thought came across his head, he could definitely beat her at pool. He‘s Dean Winchester, and he wasn’t going to fall for her body language. He observed her closely. She had used her body to distract the men, who didn’t seem to mind that they lost to a girl, mostly due to her flirting. Once it was clear, Dean walked over to her and sighed. 

“That was really dirty what you did,” he shook his head while sipping on his whiskey. 

“No dirtier than you hustling the frat boys,” she put her cue down and placed her hand on her hip, “what do you want Winchester?”

“Figure you and I could play,” he shrugged, “winner takes all?” 

“You want to play me?” she raised an eyebrow at him, “what’s the catch besides the cash?” 

“No catch,” he held his hands up, “just the cash.” 

“Wow,” she clicked her tongue as she eyed him up and down, “you really are a cocky bastard.”   

“Just rack them up, sweetheart,” Dean taunted. 

“It’s your money you’re gonna lose,” she paused to stare him down, “sweetheart.” 

Dean watched as she racked up the balls and motioned for him to break. 

“Solids or stripes?” he voiced. 

“Solids,” she leaned on her cue as she waited for him to break. 

Dean broke and started the game. It didn’t take long before he realized he was losing. She had sunk solid after solid when he only sank one striped ball. It was nearly impossible, but she did it. He was hoping that she wouldn’t sink the eight ball. He watched as she lined up her shot and gave him a devilish smirk before hitting the cue ball and sinking it the corner pocket. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean swore as Y/N laughed. 

“And that is how you play pool Losechester!” she sassed, “now I believe you owe me ALL of your cash.” she trailed her fingers up his chest before tapping his nose. 

Pushing her hand away he looked to Sam who frowned at him before handing over the cash. “Take it, bitch,” he grumbled. 

“Wow, you are a sore loser,” she walked over to Sam and handed him two grand. “Don’t let him spend it all.” she chuckled as she grabbed her leather jacket and began to walk away. 

Dean grabbed the cash from Sam’s hand and chased after her. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he turned her around harshly. 

“You won the fucking cash take it. Don’t be a smug bitch about it,” Dean snarled as he shoved the cash into her hand. 

“And who the fuck said I was being a smug bitch?” Y/N snapped back as she took the money and pressed it against his chest. “Just because you have a reputation doesn’t mean you are better than me, asshole.” she poked at his chest making him walk back. “How many female hunters do you really think are out here, huh? Not that many, know why? Because of smug assholes like you. Get off your fucking high horse and accept the fact that I cleared out a nest before you got to it, and stop acting like a fucking cry baby.” 

“I don’t know where you came from,” Dean huffed as he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away from him. “But if I catch you on one of my hunts again… you are not going to like me.” he threatened. 

Y/N walked back and laughed, “I’m shaking in my hunter boots Winchester.” she turned around and walked to her cherry red Pontiac Trans Am and drove off. 

“Dean, what did you just do?” Sam ran a hand over his hair as he watched the Pontiac disappear in the distance. 

“Next time I see her I’m going to show her who’s the better hunter… and the better pool player.” Dean fixed his jacket and grabbed the cash from the ground. “Let’s go, Sammy, we have more hunts to find.” 

“Chuck, if you can hear me… I am begging you… don’t let these two get themselves killed,” Sam pleaded into the sky before making his way to the Impala. 

In the back of Dean’s mind, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N Y/L/N. What he didn’t realize was that she had made an impression on him. One that he would try to ignore.