#Adjustable angle thermometer
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fawnnpaws · 11 months ago
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extremely self indulgent but i need to bounce this off of someone… poor little art who got a cold, and he’s the type of man who acts like he has the PLAGUE. patrick comes home to art napping on the couch (normal) and goes to kiss him, realising that he has a fever (not normal). he calls you even though art doesn’t want to bother you (secretly he does, of course) and you come over and coddle him with patrick. he’s on bedrest which he is not thrilled about, and all the sleep and caretaking leads to sleepy/feverish humping when you cuddle him in bed and it’s like oohhh poor little puppy with kennel cough but he still cant even control himself…
oohhh puppy with kennel cough i’ll sob <//333 how did u know i was craving a sick fic….
poor art all by himself for the better part of the morning while patrick is at an early practice, wrapping himself up in 4 blankets and collapsing on the couch :(( he’s dizzy, his head is pounding, he just wants to sleep it off. when patrick finally gets home he almost doesn’t see art because he’s buried so deep in the pile of blankets. he’s still fast asleep, but it’s fitful, his breathing is shallow and he keeps squirming because no position is comfortable even when he’s unconscious. patrick presses a soft kiss to his temple and his skin is way too hot to be normal, so he grabs their thermometer (that you bought for them bc neither of them ever considered needing one… among many other necessary items they owe to you) and slips it between art’s lips. he angles it under art’s tongue but it takes a couple tries because even in his sleep, art will naturally start sucking on whatever is put in his mouth… patrick files the image of a very helpless sleepy art sucking on anything he gives him away for later. his temperature comes back at 101 and the beeping of the thermometer wakes him up. the whine he lets out when he opens his eyes and the room starts spinning again is downright pitiful, so patrick scoops him up, blankets and all, and carries him to his bed.
when you arrive, your heart just melts. patrick and art are laying in a heap of tangled limbs on the bed, art’s back pressed against his chest and patrick’s hands gently petting all over his body. you can tell art is miserable, but he lifts his head up to look over and reaches his arms out to make grabby hands at you.
“oh puppy, you’re really not feeling good huh?” you ask as you slide into bed, letting him adjust so his head is laying on your chest and his legs intertwine with yours. behind him, patrick reaches one of his hands over and interlocks with yours, resting on art’s hip between you.
“he went under when i got him to bed, which is helping. he’s always been a drama queen when he’s sick,” patrick says, earning an elbow to his stomach that probably would have hurt if art had any arm strength right now. you smile and press a kiss to the top of art’s head.
“don’t listen to daddy, baby, you’re perfect,” you whisper and patrick scoffs, but you see the way he nuzzles his face in the back of art’s neck, like if they part even an inch art will disintegrate in his hands. art whimpers at the closeness of the two of you. his body aches, but having you and patrick pressed against him like this is making him dizzy in a new way. his head feels like it’s full of cotton and his body aches, but he feels so safe. the warmth of his skin radiates and makes all three of you shift closer to each other. he can’t help it when his hips cant forward until your thigh is slotted between his legs. his eyes flutter and his hips continue to move of their own accord, rutting so gently against you that you almost don’t feel it. it’s the sigh that leaves his lips that gives him away, though it turns into a frustrated huff when he realizes that even rocking his hips takes a lot of effort. you can feel how hard he is already and it amazes you how quickly he can work himself into desperation.
it seems patrick notices too. “dirty puppy, you can’t even control yourself when you’re sick? needy little thing.” he grips art’s hips with both hands and starts moving them for him, pushing them up and down on your thigh. “here, i’ll help you.”
art’s mouth falls open around a groan and his tongue lolls out, trying to lap at your tits through your shirt. he can’t even muster the energy to paw at you to take it off, so you do it for him. his eyes roll back when he sees you’re not wearing a bra and his mouth latches onto your nipple in an instant. you reach under his shirt and grope at his chest, reveling in the muffled “mmmommy—“ he whines against your skin. you and patrick work in tandem, moving his body where and how you want it. you both know him so well, every spot he likes to hit when he’s humping you, every sensitive area to press on his body. he sucks harder, swirling his tongue around your nipple mindlessly as he tries to move his hips faster with patrick’s help.
“good boy, take what you need,” is all the encouragement he needs from you to cum sticky ropes in his boxers with a long drawn out whine. patrick moves him through it, even gets a little mean and keeps his tender hips going until he’s whimpering from overstimulation. when art settles it takes about .05 seconds for him to pass out again, still gently suckling on your nipple. you lift your head up slightly and lock eyes with patrick, who looks just at keyed up as you are. you jerk your head towards you and he expertly detangles himself to come lay behind you now, pressing his hard dick against your ass.
“fuck - fuck me - need you so bad, he’s so fucking cute like this - was wet the second i saw him,” you moan, hushed and frantic. patrick pulls your tiny shorts to the side and sinks into you with almost no resistance.
“jesus - fucking tight perfect pussy - i know, baby, you shoulda seen him earlier, started sucking on the fucking thermometer in his sleep,” he pants, not wasting any time thrusting into you like he’ll die if he stops. “it took everything not to shove my dick in his sick little mouth.”
“aw, you’re a good boy too, pat,” you tease and in return he fucks you harder. slow, deliberate strokes pound into you and it jostles art, but the cold medicine you force fed him has kicked in so he stays blissfully asleep. you still try to stifle the moans patrick is punching out of you, but it’s hard when he’s hitting that perfect spot inside you with vindictive precision.
“gonna cum for daddy? shit - c’mon mommy, wanna feel you cum on my cock over our sick helpless puppy.”
you have no choice but to give him what he wants, your orgasm rips through you and you grip onto art, pulling his pliant body closer. patrick fucks you through it and bites down on your shoulder hard as he cums. you come down together, breathing heavy and dazed. art nuzzles closer to you in his sleep and you decide you and patrick deserve a nap too. you have a sick puppy to take care of, after all.
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partsfe11 · 3 months ago
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Taylor Thermometer 9836 Digital Thermometer with Adjustable Head PartsFe CA
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The Taylor Thermometer 9836 is a digital thermometer featuring an adjustable head for versatile temperature measurement. Its digital display provides accurate readings, and the adjustable head allows for convenient use in various angles and hard-to-reach areas.Ideal for food service or other applications, it ensures precise temperature monitoring.This thermometer is designed for ease of use and reliable performance.
To keep your restaurant running smoothly, it's crucial to invest in Taylor Thermometer  Digital Thermometer with Adjustable Head  that ensure long-lasting performance.
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barriesgardencentre · 1 year ago
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Top 12 Best Grow Lights for Seedlings in 2024
As a gardening enthusiast, I know how important it is to have the right equipment to ensure successful plant growth. One of the most crucial pieces of equipment for indoor gardening is a grow light for seedlings. With so many options available on the market, it can be overwhelming to choose the best one for your needs. That’s why I’ve put together a list of the top grow lights for seedlings that provide the perfect balance of light intensity, spectrum, and coverage. Whether you’re an experienced gardener or just starting, these grow lights will help your seedlings thrive and flourish.
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MARS HYDRO TS1000 Grow Lights
I highly recommend the MARS HYDRO TS1000 Grow Lights for anyone looking for an efficient and effective grow light for seedlings.
Pros
Uniform light distribution for maximum plant yield
Wider coverage and stronger illumination for better light absorption
Energy-saving technology for cost-effective use
Cons
The fanless design may not be as effective in dispersing heat as other models
The timer and thermometer are sold separately
Some users report that the light may be too bright for some plants
Jump Start 2′ T5 Grow Light System
If you’re looking for an affordable and reliable grow light system for your seedlings, the Jump Start 2′ T5 Grow Light System is a great option.
Pros
The light height is easily adjustable, making it perfect for growing plants of various sizes.
It’s energy efficient, so you don’t have to worry about high electricity bills.
It’s sturdy and durable, so you can use it for years to come.
Cons
The light system only comes with one tube, so you may need to purchase additional tubes for larger seedlings.
The light is not very bright, so it may not be suitable for some plants that require high levels of light.
The stand can be a bit wobbly, so you may need to stabilize it with additional support.
Feit Electric 24″ Full Spectrum Grow Light
If you’re looking for an energy-efficient LED grow light that can help you grow your plants indoors, then the Feit Electric 24″ Full Spectrum Grow Light is worth considering.
Pros
Uses less electricity than traditional horticulture lighting
Emits spectrum wavelengths and color for the appropriate photosynthetic response
Operates cooler than HPS lamps to guard against leaf burn
Cons
Made of lightweight polycarbonate material that may not be as sturdy as other materials
Only emits blue and red spectrum light, which may not be ideal for all plants
May require multiple fixtures for larger growing areas
GooingTop LED Grow Light
If you’re looking for an affordable and efficient grow light for your seedlings, then the GooingTop LED Grow Light is worth considering.
Pros
Equipped with 10 Red + 74 White LEDs, this growing lamp is similar to the full-spectrum sunlight at noon, making it ideal for indoor garden plants.
Comes with a timer function with 3 options (4Hrs, 8Hrs, or 12Hrs) that is based on a 24-hour cycle from the time you set the timer.
Easy to install with flexible gooseneck and strong clamp, allowing you to place the growth light in any direction to provide the best lighting angle for your plants.
Cons
May not be powerful enough for larger plants or a large number of seedlings.
The timer function may be confusing to set up for some users.
The clip may not be strong enough to hold the light in place for some setups.
Lxyoug LED Grow Lights
This is a great product for those looking to grow indoor plants. I highly recommend it.
Pros
The stand is very stable and the adjustable tripod allows for a lot of flexibility in terms of positioning.
The comprehensive spectrum of light is very effective in promoting plant growth.
The double control and auto on/off timer function is very convenient and easy to use.
Cons
The brightness settings could be more precise.
The tripod is a bit bulky and may not fit in all spaces.
The product is a bit expensive compared to other grow lights.
FRENAN Grow Light with Stand
If you want a grow light that can take care of your indoor plants, then FRENAN Grow Light with Stand is an excellent choice.
Pros
The adjustable stand makes it suitable for different sizes of house plants.
The red blue spectrum LED light promotes healthy plant growth.
The 3 spectral modes and 10 level brightness settings provide flexibility and control.
Cons
The remote control may not work sometimes.
The light may be too weak for some plants.
The price is a bit high compared to other grow lights.
Super Sprouter Deluxe Propagation Kit
If you want to grow seedlings or cuttings indoors, the Super Sprouter Deluxe Propagation Kit is an excellent choice.
Pros
The kit includes everything you need to get started.
The high-output fluorescent grow light ensures your plants get enough light.
The propagation booklet provides expert advice for starting seedlings and cuttings.
Cons
The plastic cover is a bit flimsy.
The light is a bit too high for starting seeds.
The kit is a bit expensive.
Jump Start JSV2T JumpStart T5 Light Timer System
If you’re looking for a reliable and easy-to-use grow light for your seedlings, the Jump Start JSV2T JumpStart T5 Light Timer System is a great option.
Pros
The built-in timer makes it easy to set a schedule for your plants.
The internal reflective finish directs more light to your plants, helping them grow faster.
The simple toggle clamp allows for easy lamp height adjustment.
Cons
Some users have reported that the light isn’t bright enough for their seedlings.
The stand could be sturdier.
The included cord is only 6 feet long, which may not be long enough for some users.
FREGENBO LED Grow Lights
If you’re looking for a budget-friendly grow light that is easy to install and provides efficient lighting for your plants, then the FREGENBO LED Grow Lights are worth considering.
Pros
Samsung and sunlight full spectrum for better germination and growth
Timing function and auto on/off for convenience
Easy to install with self-adhesive pads and extension cables
Cons
Not sufficient as a full sun replacement
Plug runs hot to the touch
Limited range for placement
Barrina Grow Light Bulb
If you’re looking for an affordable and efficient grow light for your indoor plants, the Barrina Grow Light Bulb could be a great option for you.
Pros
The full-spectrum light provides the most reasonable grow light wave for plants.
The light is super bright and high PPFD, making it an excellent replacement for 600W general plant lights.
The installation is easy, and you can link up to 12 LED grow light strips in a series.
Cons
The lights emit some heat, so you need to keep them close to your plants.
The power cord adds another inch of length, which can be a problem if you have limited space.
The lights are not as bright as advertised, so you may need to keep them closer to your plants.
Barrina T5 Grow Lights
If you’re looking for an easy-to-install grow light for your seedlings, the Barrina T5 Grow Lights might be the perfect solution for you.
Pros
The full spectrum light is perfect for all stages of plant growth.
The light is super bright and produces high PPFD, meaning your plants will get all the light they need.
The lights are easy to install with the included double-sided tape, clips, and cable ties.
Cons
The lights don’t come with a timer, so you’ll need to purchase one separately if you want to automate the lighting schedule.
The on/off switch for each light is located on the housing, which can be inconvenient if you have the lights installed in a hard-to-reach location.
The lights are not waterproof, so you’ll need to be careful when watering your plants.
Maxxima LED Shop Light Fixture
If you’re looking for an affordable and high-quality LED grow light for your seedlings, the Maxxima LED Shop Light Fixture is a great option.
Pros
The 5000K daylight cool white color temperature is perfect for seedlings.
The 2500 lumens provide ample light for plant growth.
The clear lens allows for maximum light penetration.
Cons
The pull chain switch can be a bit flimsy.
The light is not dimmable.
The aluminum and polycarbonate housing can be prone to scratching.
Source: https://barriegardencentre.com/best-grow-lights-for-seedlings/
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bristibasu9 · 2 years ago
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Demystifying the IR Thermometer: Your Essential Guide to Non-Contact Temperature Measurement
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In today's world, where contactless solutions are increasingly sought after, one tool shines brightly: the IR thermometer. This handy device, often referred to as a non-contact thermometer, revolutionizes temperature measurement by eliminating the need for physical contact. This makes it a valuable asset in various fields, from healthcare and cooking to industrial applications and even home improvement projects.
What is an IR Thermometer?
An IR thermometer, also known as an infrared thermometer, works by measuring the infrared radiation emitted by an object. The device then converts this radiation into a temperature reading, displayed on its digital screen. This process happens instantly, making it a much faster option than traditional contact thermometers.
How Does an IR Thermometer Work?
internal workings of an IR thermometer
The core principle behind an IR thermometer lies in the concept of blackbody radiation. Every object emits infrared radiation, and the intensity of this radiation depends on its temperature. The hotter the object, the more radiation it emits. The IR thermometer detects this emitted radiation and uses it to calculate the object's temperature.
Here's a breakdown of the key components involved:
Lens: Focuses the infrared radiation emitted by the object. Sensor: Detects the intensity of the focused infrared radiation. Electronics: Processes the sensor data and converts it into a temperature reading. Display: Presents the calculated temperature on a digital screen. Advantages of Using an IR Thermometer: Non-contact: Eliminates the risk of cross-contamination, making it ideal for medical applications and food safety. Quick and efficient: Provides instantaneous temperature readings, saving time and effort. Safe for use on sensitive or hazardous materials: No need to physically touch the object, making it suitable for dangerous environments or delicate surfaces. Wide temperature range: Can measure temperatures over a broad spectrum, from sub-zero to several thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Easy to use: Requires minimal training and operates with simple buttons. Portable and versatile: Can be easily carried and used in various settings.
Applications of IR Thermometers:
  IR thermometers find diverse applications across various industries and everyday life. Here are some prominent examples:
Healthcare:
Measuring body temperature for fever detection. Monitoring wound healing. Checking the temperature of food and beverages to ensure food safety.
Industrial:
Monitoring machinery temperature for potential overheating. Identifying hotspots in electrical systems. Measuring the temperature of hazardous materials.
Automotive:
Checking engine temperature and tire pressure. Diagnosing electrical problems.
Home improvement:
Identifying drafts and leaks around windows and doors. Checking the temperature of grills and ovens. Monitoring the temperature of water heaters and boilers.
How to Choose the Right IR Thermometer:
 With a plethora of IR thermometers available, choosing the right one depends on your specific needs and intended use. Here are some key factors to consider:
Temperature range: Select a thermometer that covers the temperature range you need to measure. Accuracy: Look for a thermometer with high accuracy specifications for critical applications. Distance-to-spot ratio: Choose a thermometer with a suitable ratio for the size of the object you plan to measure. Emissivity setting: Some thermometers allow adjusting the emissivity setting for different materials for more precise readings. Additional features: Consider features like laser pointers for targeting, backlighting for low-light conditions, and data logging for recording temperature readings over time. Tips for Using an IR Thermometer: Always hold the thermometer at the correct distance and angle to the object you are measuring. Consult the manufacturer's instructions for specific guidelines. Ensure the object's surface is clean and free from any debris that might affect the reading. Be aware of the emissivity of the object you are measuring. Some materials require adjusting the emissivity setting for accurate readings. Avoid taking measurements near reflective surfaces or in direct sunlight. Use a calibration source regularly to ensure the accuracy of your thermometer.
With its versatility and ease of use, the IR thermometer has become an indispensable tool in various fields. By understanding its working principle, advantages, and applications, you can choose the best IR thermometer for your needs and harness its power to tackle temperature measurement tasks with confidence.
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hermmachinery · 2 years ago
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How To Maintain The Feed Machine Machine?
In the process of pellet feed production, if the user does not operate the feed pellet machine correctly, it will undoubtedly affect the service life of the feed pellet machine. How can we better reduce the wear of vulnerable parts of the feed pellet machine? Let's share with you the wear cause analysis and maintenance methods of vulnerable parts of the feed pellet machine.
1. Raw material particle size Because the crushing fineness of raw materials determines the surface area of pellet feed composition, the finer the particle size is, the larger the surface area is, the faster the material absorbs water in steam, and it is relatively easy to condition and particle forming; If the grain is too coarse, the die wear increases, the energy consumption increases, and the productivity decreases.
The requirements of animal feed equipment manufacturers are that the particle size of raw materials after crushing shall all pass through the 8-mesh screen, but the material on the 25-mesh screen shall not be greater than 35%. For materials with high crude fiber content, a certain amount of grease shall be added in the granulation process to reduce the friction between the material and the ring mold, and the appearance of formed feed particles shall be smooth.
2. Raw material impurity cleaning If there are too many iron impurities in the material, resulting in accelerated die wear, this should attract the attention of the pellet feed-making machine operator. Therefore, impurity removal before raw material processing is very important.
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3. Add steam Adding steam during material granulation is conducive to material softening and lubrication, to reduce the wear of materials on the machine and improve the output. Generally, the pressure varies with the variety of pressed materials. After adding steam, the moisture content of materials should reach 16% ~ 17%, and the temperature of materials after quenching and tempering should be controlled at 78 ~ 87 ℃.
  4. Clearance between ring die and press roll The unreasonable installation angle of the feeder will lead to uneven material distribution between the ring die and the press roll, and over time, it will lead to uneven wear distribution between the ring die and the press roll.
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How to do routine maintenance? Minor maintenance: once every six months, including the following contents: 1. Check and adjust the clearance of the main shaft bearing, and the radial runout of the hollow shaft head shall not exceed 0.05mm.
2. Disassemble and wash the feeder and modulator bearings and replace the lubricating oil.
3. Check the wear of the modulator blade and replace the damaged part.
4. Check and replace the damaged cutter.
5. Repair and clean the pressure-reducing valve, filter, drain valve, steam separator, valve, etc. of the steam system.
6. Disassemble and wash the pneumatic triplet and solenoid valve.
7. Check whether the bolts in the motor junction box are loose and replace the damaged sealing ring of the junction box.
8. Check whether the anchor bolts are loose.
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Medium maintenance: once a year, including the following contents: 1. All contents of minor maintenance.
2. Check the service condition of the motor bearing and replace the grease.
3. Check the use of the shifting knife and replace it in time if it is seriously worn.
4. Replace the V-belt with serious wear and reduced elasticity.
5. Check and clean the condensate on the oil circuit of the main shaft and pressure roller shaft.
6. Adjust the clearance of the main shaft bearing of the chicken feed machine.
7. Calibrate ammeter, voltmeter, thermometer and tachometer.
8. Check relevant lines and electrical components and replace and repair them in time.
9. Replace the damaged press roller spring washer box sealing ring.
10. Check the wear of the pulley and the reliability of the key connection.
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Major maintenance: once every 2 years, including the following contents: 1. All contents of maintenance.
2. Check the operation of the main shaft bearing and replace the seriously worn or damaged bearing.
3. Check the wear condition of the spindle, modulator, and spindle head, and repair or replace it in time if it is serious.
4. Check the wear condition of the wear ring and the keyway on the frisbee. If it is serious, repair or replace it in time.
5. Replace the severely worn copper sleeve of the main shaft.
6. Replace the deformed main shaft oil seal.
7. Derusting and painting of feed pellet machine body, pipeline, and support.
Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd was established in 2010 and has been devoted to the research and development of Feed Mill Machinery ever since. With more than 10 years of experience, Herm® has become a leading manufacturer and supplier of animal feed machines and complete animal feed production lines, cattle feed plants, poultry feed plants, animal feed pellet production lines, etc. It always endeavored to improve the quality of products and aims to meet the new requirements of the international market. 
If You Are Ready to Start a Feed Pellet Plant Business, please contact us for the feed mill machine. We Can Provide Professional Design and Comprehensive Guidance According to Your Needs. Get in touch with us now!   Welcome Contact Us! Henan Herm Machinery Co., Ltd Email: [email protected] Phone/Whatsapp: 86-18037508651
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topteneverworld · 2 years ago
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The 12 Best Instant Read Thermometers, Tested by Experts
Introduction — Best Instant Read Thermometers
Cooking has evolved into an art form, where precision is paramount to crafting mouthwatering dishes. Among the array of essential kitchen tools, the instant-read thermometer stands as an indispensable ally for both seasoned chefs and home cooks alike. This sleek and compact gadget ensures that no culinary masterpiece falls victim to the guesswork of internal temperatures. In this article, we present the best instant-read thermometers that combine accuracy, speed, versatility, and user-friendliness, elevating your culinary prowess to new heights.
Continue Reading — Best Instant Read Thermometers Review
Thermapen Mk4
Widely regarded as the gold standard of instant-read thermometers, the Thermapen Mk4 reigns supreme with its unparalleled accuracy and blazing-fast response time. Its ultra-sensitive thermocouple sensor provides readings within 2-3 seconds, virtually eliminating any margin of error. The swiveling backlit display ensures easy reading from any angle, and the auto-rotating feature adjusts the orientation accordingly. With a wide temperature range, waterproof construction, and ergonomic design, the Thermapen Mk4 is a culinary marvel.
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Lavatools Javelin Pro Duo
The Lavatools Javelin Pro Duo is a budget-friendly powerhouse that doesn’t skimp on performance. Boasting a speedy 2-3 seconds response time, it is equipped with a foldable probe for compact storage and portability. Its impressive accuracy ensures precision in every cooking endeavor. The Javelin Pro Duo also features a magnetic back and an intelligent stabilization alert to notify you when the temperature reading has settled.
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ThermoWorks ThermoPop
If you seek affordability without compromising on quality, the ThermoWorks ThermoPop has you covered. This budget-friendly option comes with a rotating display, making it perfect for both left and right-handed users. Its slender probe folds into the body when not in use, making storage hassle-free. Although slightly slower than its high-end counterparts, the ThermoPop still delivers swift and precise readings within 3-4 seconds.
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MEATER+
Revolutionizing the instant-read thermometer game, the MEATER+ stands as a wireless and smart cooking solution. With no cords to tangle, this innovative device utilizes Bluetooth connectivity to communicate with your smartphone or tablet, enabling you to monitor cooking progress remotely. The MEATER+ also boasts an impressive range and dual sensors, providing both internal and ambient temperature readings. Its accompanying app offers various cooking presets and alerts, guiding you to perfection.
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Weber iGrill Mini
The Weber iGrill Mini is not only a reliable instant-read thermometer but also a smart cooking companion. Designed for grilling enthusiasts, this compact device connects to your smartphone via Bluetooth, allowing you to monitor the temperature remotely. With the Weber iGrill app, you can set custom temperature alerts and receive notifications when your food is perfectly cooked. It has a slightly slower response time compared to other instant-read thermometers (about five seconds), but the added convenience of remote monitoring makes up for it.
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Habor Digital Meat Thermometer
Perfect for grill masters and BBQ enthusiasts, the Habor Digital Meat Thermometer comes equipped with a longer, heat-resistant probe for measuring deeper temperatures. Its LCD display boasts a backlight for easy reading in low-light conditions. The Habor thermometer also includes a handy temperature chart and a hold function, allowing you to lock the reading for later reference.
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Conclusion
In the world of culinary artistry, precision is the key to elevating flavors to their utmost potential. The best instant-read thermometers make this precision readily accessible to both seasoned chefs and aspiring home cooks. From the lightning-fast Thermapen Mk4 to the innovative wireless capabilities of the MEATER+, each thermometer on this list offers a unique set of features to suit various needs and budgets.
Read Full Review Click Here>>
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tiancimachines · 2 years ago
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How to improve the effect of drying equipment in organic fertilizer equipment?
The drying effect of organic fertilizer equipment is not only related to the quality of the machine itself, but also related to the layout of the plant and the daily maintenance of the equipment. The specific layout is as follows:
Feed bin: In order to prevent wet and viscous materials from clogging the feed bin, a reasonable feed bin structure should be designed, such as: asymmetric geometric hopper; Or increase the tilt Angle between the hopper wall and the outlet; Add activation cone or pressure reducing plate in the bin; Or set up a poke hole at the exit. At the same time, it can also reduce the material in the silo, reduce the pressure of the silo, and prevent the phenomenon of clogging. According to the nature of the material can also be designed to break arch discharge vibration feed hopper, used for dryer charging.
Combustion chamber: The form of the combustion chamber should be selected according to the nature and source of the fuel, the form of the dryer, and other factory conditions. For example, the factory has pulverized coal, you can consider the use of pulverized coal combustion chamber; For inferior coal, fluidized furnace can be used.
Secondly, the combustion chamber of the dryer equipment in the organic fertilizer production line generally considers setting up an "air-flue gas" mixing chamber, installing a thermometer to measure the flue gas temperature and a cold air door to adjust the smoke volume. Cold air mixing. It is also necessary to design a properly designed windshield to prevent high temperature flame from burning into the drying cylinder and feed pipe. The feed pipe is covered with heat-resistant concrete or brick chute. In addition, reducing the leakage of cold air in the feed pipe is conducive to improving the drying efficiency.
Drying thermal system: The drying thermal system includes three parts: combustion chamber, dryer, exhaust dust collection: the selection of exhaust fan and dust collector should meet the requirements of the combustion air coefficient of the dryer is not greater than 100 ° C. Greater than 1, 2; The wind speed of the cooling end in the dryer condition is not more than 3m/s; The discharge port under the suction hood shall be provided with an air locking device; The dust collector and exhaust pipe shall have heat preservation and heat insulation measures.
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shelbybrown591-blog · 6 years ago
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REFRIGERATION PRESSURE GAUGE FOR THE REFRIGERATION INDUSTRY
In our quest to provide you with the best instrument at GPI Inc., we have a specialized pressure gauge specifically made for refrigeration. It works perfect for pressure measurement in the refrigeration industry.
The pressure gauge can also be used to measure pressure air condition and freezing facilities in cold rooms, cold filling equipment’s, and industrial refrigerators. It can be used in these industries to measure the pressure of gas or liquid and to ensure that the optimal amount of pressure is circulated for a given application.
When understand that one of the needs of our clients is to get quality refrigeration gauge at the best affordable price, and this is why our prices are quite competitive and affordable to purchase. This is a highly accurate pressure gauge that can also be used in industrial and mechanical processing.
You are assured of a long-lasting pressure gauge that will continue to test and compare the high side and low side pressure reading of refrigeration and other similar cooling appliances.
It has a glass frame and also a rubber casing that gives it good protection. It also comes in a variety of different models that you can always choose from.
ACCURATE HVAC PRESSURE GAUGE
As part of our pressure gauge range of instruments we also have the HVAC pressure gauge. It is specially designed for the measurement of liquids that are not high temperature and highly viscous and they are also suitable for gases.
This is a preferred choice of customers who seek an HVAC Pressure Gauge that will meet their needs and requirements as it meets various quality standards. We provide it at the best affordable price that will provide value for the money spent.
The HVAC is also perfect for air conditioning and refrigeration. This pressure gauge provides accurate readings that is certain and can be used to make correct decisions. It also meets the standard size for HVAC systems and can be read while standing next to the gauge.
This HVAC pressure has been designed with the best materials – stainless steel, aluminium etc. – that makes it very durable for long use. This pressure gauge is ideal for refrigeration and even plumbing.
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inkykeiji · 5 years ago
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i've been going through your bnha works and have had this in my head for literal days now and wanted to share. while touya-nii is out of town, you get deliriously feverishly sick. he'll be back asap but asks keigo to check on you, who of course obliges. and sweet keigo, he just wants to help you feel better, baby, and you're really not well, so he'll just use his tongue, or so he tells himself at first, maaaybe just the tip anywayy i adore your writing and hope you are well! ty for all you do!
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oh my GOSH i love this ask so much aaaaah THANK U for sharing!!! n thank u bb i hope u are well, too <33
❅ CW: implied pseudo-incest, implied yakuza!touya, dubcon/noncon, cheating
❅ words: 2.2k
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He’s away on business when it happens.
“Touya-nii,” you whine weakly, voice staticky through the speaker, and his heart drops. “Touya-nii I—My h-head, it hurts,”
You rarely get sick; Touya makes sure of that, keeps you in good health just like all niichans are supposed to do, forces you to eat all your fruits and veggies and ensures that you get an adequate amount of physical activity. So you shouldn’t be sick. You shouldn’t.
But you are. And he’s miles away, stuck in some dingy motel room with cigarette burns on the matted carpet, aggressively tugging his fingers through his hair as he wracks his mind for some sort of solution.
For a brief, fleeting second, he considers leaving, envisions himself throwing all of his shit haphazardly into his leather suitcase and peeling out of the cracked parking lot, tires squealing and car thrumming as he races towards you.
But he knows he can’t, knows that’s an automatic death sentence for him, knows he’s stuck here for at least another day, which is much too long for his precious baby sister to be sick on her own.
His fingers tremble a little as he scrolls through his contacts, thumb slamming down on Keigo’s name. He picks up on the second ring, Touya’s molars grinding together at his trademark easygoing drawl.
“Listen, I have a favour to ask of you…”
  —
“You really are sick as a dog,” Keigo’s saying with a frown, perched on the edge of your bed and looking down at the thermometer beeping in his hand, a glowing 103.5 staring back at him.
“H-Hurts, Kei,” you whimper, trying to shuffle closer to him, body wrapped in a cocoon of sheets. Sympathetic golden eyes gaze down at you, a palm coming to pet your sweaty head, lips turned down as he sighs through his nose.
“I know, songbird,” he murmurs softly, knuckles caressing your cheek. “First, though, we gotta unravel you from these blankets! They’re doing nothing good for your fever, sweetheart,”
And, really, it’d be hard to miss the sharp intake of breath he sucks in through his teeth the moment he finally frees your clammy body, clad in a skimpy little tank top and a pair of sleep shorts, drenched in sweat and sticking to your skin.
“Christ,” he breathes, honey eyes scanning you slowly, choking back a soft sound when his gaze lands on your chest, nipples perking up through the thin material and your body breaking out into goosebumps the moment the cool air of your bedroom hits your damp, heated skin.
“Well that just isn’t fair,” he mutters with a crooked smirk, eyes darting to yours quickly before drifting back to your body again. You hum in question—or maybe that’s a whine of pain, he isn’t sure, he doesn’t care—and he chuckles. “You’re not allowed to look this fucking hot being as sick as you are,”
He’s nearly positive Touya wouldn’t have called him had he known the way you were dressed, snickering to himself at the thought. No, Touya would’ve bit the bullet and called your parents instead, who are much more equipped to handle such a sickness than Keigo is either way. Oh well, he shrugs to himself with a little nonchalant hum—he can’t be held accountable for his actions now, not when you’re dressed like that, chest rising and falling rapidly with your shallow little breaths, whimpering and tossing a little in the sheets.
“Oh baby,” he coos, pushing sweaty hair away from your forehead. “Oh, you poor thing,”
“M-Make it go away Kei, make it go a-away,” there are tears collecting in your eyes now as your little hands paw at his hoodie, and Keigo’s frown deepens—you must really be in a lot of pain. Almost enough to stop the words that leave his mouth next.
“You want me to make you feel better, baby?”
Almost.
A sharp whine gets caught in your throat as you nod, movements slow and lethargic. Please, your begging him in a whimper, fingers curling in the cotton as you weakly try to pull him closer. Please make me feel better!
“Yeah?” he murmurs, the word just a huff of breath as his hands travel up the sides of your torso, nimble fingers idly playing with the spaghetti straps of your tank top. One more nod, and his fingers are hooking in the waistband of your tiny shorts, your forehead crinkling in confusion as you press your thighs together.
You mumble something that sounds vaguely like his name—aw, that fever must really be getting to you, now—and he coos mockingly, gold eyes flicking up to meet yours, fingers still tucked in your waistband, wiggling a little.
“You wanted me to make you feel better, right?”
Blinking twice at him, your head tilts to the side a little, eyes narrowing as you try to recall the words that were spoken merely a few minutes ago. You don’t know, you can’t remember, you think so, but…
It’ll make you feel better, he says. He’ll be gentle, he promises, soft hands tugging baby pink shorts down your legs, knuckles caressing your skin as they go. He’s never lied to you before, has he?
No, you suppose he hasn’t, shaking your pounding head a little as he pushes your knees open, revealing your bare cunt to him.
A hushed curse falls from his lips as he gazes at you. If you were in the right state of mind, you’d feel dirty, overexposed and self-conscious—but all you can do is whimper, staring at him through glassy, lidded eyes.
Just a taste, he promises to himself as his hands skim down your inner thighs, pushing them open more before his upper body languidly settles between them, whining quietly as he drags the tip of his nose across your hips, all the way from one side to the other, placing tender kisses against where each bone would be.
“You’re gorgeous,” he breathes, breath hot against your cunt as he adjusts himself to be eyelevel with it.
You don’t respond, can’t respond, because his tongue is flattening itself against you the moment he’s finished speaking, slowly dragging up your slit in long, rough laps and keeping his eyes on your face the entire time.
He’s determined to get you off with his tongue alone, already reveling in the tiny sounds he’s pulling from you, soft puffs of his name interspersed with broken little moans. It swirls around your little hole, prodding it with the tip before working the muscle into you. He thrusts it a few times—only enough to be teasing, really, to stretch you out just a little, before he goes back to your clit, empty hole fluttering in disappointment.
Using the tip of his tongue, he flicks your already swollen clit, slowly, and then fast, too fast, your back uncontrollably arching off the mattress as you push your hips towards his face. He chuckles against you, vibrations shooting up your spine, as strong arms wrap around your thighs, hands curling around your hips as he steadies them.
It’s over pathetically quickly, you creaming all over his tongue as he moans at the taste, one hand weakly tangled in his hair and holding his head in place as you buck against his face. He allows you to grind against him, grip on your hips loosening up a little, waits for your body to go boneless again before pulling back and sitting on his heels, dragging his forearm across his gleaming chin. You’re at him like he’s some sort of god, face full of bliss and absolutely fucked out, and he can’t stop the words that tumble from his lips next.
“You want more?” he breathes, golden eyes shining in the dim light, tongue tracing his lips as he licks away the remnants of your orgasm. “Huh?” he looks down at his cock, straining against his grey sweatpants, then meets your eyes again. “Just the tip, babygirl?”
A low whine slips from between your lips, head nodding lethargically before glowing, vibrant sapphire flashes through your mind, deep voice rumbling somewhere in the recesses of your skull, words jumbled and unintelligible.
“But…” you trail off, blinking your bleary eyes, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you try to string the words together. “Touya-nii?”
“What Touya-nii doesn’t know won’t hurt him, now will it, songbird?”
His voice is so soft, so sweet as gentle fingers trace along your hairline, pushing little strands back from your forehead, and you shake your head a little. You guess it won’t. You want to tell Keigo that Touya always knows, though, that Touya somehow always finds out, but then he’s pushing the head of his cock into your little hole, groaning a little as you stretch around him, and your mind goes completely blank, filled with nothing but thoughts of how thick he is, how it feels like he’s splitting you open as he sinks into you, inch by inch, honey eyes mesmerized by the way your cunt greedily sucks him in, gaze glued between your bodies.
What happened to ‘just the tip’? The question buzzes around in your head, doing nothing to help the ache that’s settled deep within your skull, those six words smashed to pieces the moment Keigo draws his hips back only to slam into you again.
A loud cry rips from your throat—it stings, but Keigo doesn’t seem to care, abandoning all caution as his hips set a rough, brutal pace.
And you’re too weak to do anything but take it, letting Keigo manhandle your limp body into whatever twisted position he wants to, pushing your knees up to your chest and then pressing them together, forcing your lower body to twist onto your side as your back stays flat against the mattress.
It feels good though, that burning pain mixing with intense pleasure as Keigo angles his hips just right. A heavy sigh slips from between your lips as your eyes fall shut, pliant body practically melting into the damp sheets.
You think you’re saying his name, though you can’t be sure—you’re definitely saying something, lips moving and voice vibrating in your chest, though your words sound muffled, like someone’s stuffed your ears full of cotton, and you can’t decipher them.
Keigo’s speaking too, body draped over yours as his hips snap viciously, lips against your earlobe.
“What would your precious niichan say if he could see how much of a slut you’re being, hmm?” Keigo hums in your ear, voice sweet as honey, smooth and syrupy. “While sick, no less,” he tuts his tongue, as if he wasn’t the one who instigated this whole thing.
Whimpers spill from your lips as you try to shake your head, wincing at your stiff neck and the spears of pain shooting through your brain at the simple motion. No, you want to protest, bottom lip automatically jutting out into a pout. You’re a good girl for your niichan, really, you are!
“Bet he’d be disappointed to—f-fuck—to find out how much of a little whore his baby sister really is,” he growls, spitting out the words harshly between deep grunts. You try to shake your head again, whining as the familiar sting of tears prick your eyes.
And it’s so much, it’s too much, the way he’s pounding into you, cockhead nudging against your cervix each and every time and sending shooting pain radiating throughout your lower abdomen, then dragging against that one spot that makes your entire body feel like it’s on fire, over and over and over again as his mean words cut into your flesh, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes while your hazy mind tries to knit some sort of rebuttal together, and everything feels like it’s about to—
Your thoughts cut off with a sharp gasp that fades into a low moan, eyes rolling back in your head as your pussy pulses around him.
He’s praising you now, but you can’t hear him—can barely see him, having immense trouble keeping your heavy eyelids open, your vision fading in and out of focus, darkening around the edges. It only takes three more quick pumps of his hips before he’s stilling, cock throbbing as it spurts load after load of hot cum inside of you.
Keigo collapses on top of you for a moment, heaving chest pressed against yours, but your pitiful wheezing is enough to remind him how sick you actually are, and he gathers enough strength to push himself up, sitting back on his heels again. Lidded honey eyes snap open the minute his gaze connects with yours, a gasp falling from his lips.
Oh no. You’re really not looking good now, babbling deliriously, all of the colour faded from your skin, from your entire body, lips dry and cracked, sweat beading along your hairline. Keigo presses the back of his hand to your clammy forehead, hissing when he feels how hot you are and shoving the thermometer in your mouth.
“Keep it in there,” he instructs sternly when you make a face, getting ready to spit it out, golden eyes watching you sternly as his fingers tangle together, anxiously awaiting that obnoxious beep. He snatches the tool from your mouth the moment it goes off, trembling hands bringing it close to his face, eyes squinting a little as he reads it.
104.2°
“Shit,”
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bunny1027 · 3 years ago
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First of all, I plan to make a cooler that is needed when the laptop runs efficiently - LAPTOP COOLER.
Laptop/laptop coolers, cooling pads, cooling pads or cooling pads are accessories for laptops designed to reduce the operating temperature of the laptop when it cannot cool sufficiently on its own. Laptop coolers are designed to protect laptops from overheating and users suffering from heat-related discomfort. Cooling pads can be active or passive cooling methods and are located under the laptop. Active coolers move air or liquid to quickly remove heat from the laptop, while passive coolers may rely on thermally conductive materials or increase passive airflow. -by Wikipedia
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This is my blueprint. It can monitor the temperature of the notebook to adjust the wind power of the fans.
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My material list is: fan Scissors adhesive tape cardboard thermometer and some additional non-primary materials
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First, merge the two cardboards together to make its bottom bracket.
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Cut out their center sections to place the fans, this step requires a pencil to trace the edges of the fans. Then use scissors to cut out the outline.
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But there was a problem in this way, the weight of the fan could not be supported by the cardboard, and the whole model could easily collapse.
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So I used a new piece of cardboard, made a flat outline and fastened to the bottom of the stand surface.
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In this way I made the initial structure of a radiator and fixed it.
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At this point I need to make it more "high-tech", I need a thermometer to monitor the cooling temperature of the notebook, so I dug a groove on the right side of the surface.
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But I found an additional problem, because the length of both ends of the bracket is too long, the center of the plane is unstable, and it is still forced to deform when it is pressed by gravity. I tried a lot of things, such as adding an extra cardboard, changing the flat material, etc. I even wanted to add pressure on both sides of the cardboard to fix the center of the cardboard.
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When I found that I fell into a misunderstanding of cardboard, I found another angle - adding a force point.
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The stability of the triangle! An inverted triangle can support the extra pressure from the cardboard surface and also stabilize the entire structure.
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I finally managed to solve the problem about its compression resistance and stability, which is the core problem of a fragile and cheap cardboard material.
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Finally, the heat generated when the notebook is working and rendering is carried away by the fan. And we can observe its temperature from the right side (for special reasons, a thermometer at this price will have some errors)
I can only post one video due to site restrictions, but it turns out this laptop cooler can do a very good job. In the end I guess if I change to better plastic material, then it can carry more weight and dissipate heat more stably, and even carry water in the cooler for more efficient heat dissipation.
Finally, thank you very much for browsing.
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paellaplease · 5 years ago
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Balter: BOTW Robbie x Reader
15. balter - to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment
(Robbie x Reader)
Part I of ?
It’s day one of being assigned as an assistant to the Chief of Guardian Research, and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“This is a great honour,” your research supervisor—ex-supervisor, said. They smiled at you tearily like a proud parent, fixing the collar of your shirt and patting away the non-existent dirt on your shoulders. Both of you had decided together on an outfit that was functional but boringly business casual, something that screamed ‘This job is serious and I too am seriously serious.’
“Teach,” you say, bending down to look the elderly scholar in the eye. They’ve been frantic the entire morning, packing and repacking your things, double checking your itinerary and quizzing you on random topics for the past five hours (“What is the integral of the absolute sin, x, over the interval 0 to two pi?” “Four, and how is this relevant?”) You try to smile in a way that is both calming and trustworthy. “I’m going to be alright. We’ve gone over all the possibilities together yesterday, everything from A to Z remember?”
Grabbing their cane, they picked up your suitcase, wagging their finger when you reached to take it from their smaller, wrinkly hands. “Yes, yes. But one can never be too careful.” Walking to the exit of the academy, both of you pushed open the double doors, a field of wildflowers greeting you on the other side.
A bright blue sky hung above, cloudless and empty. Your horse was grazing not too far away, ears pricking up at the sound of your approach. Before planting your foot into the stirrup, your supervisor called out your name, prompting you to turn around. Pulling their coat close to them self, they wrapped their short arms around you, enveloping you in a rare hug. “Just, keep your wits about you.”
“Why is that?”
“Doctor Robbie is a little eccentric.”
“Nothing I can’t handle, Teach.” You winked, squeezing them a little tighter. “I’ve worked with you after all.” The air shifts when you spot a cane spinning in the air, the hardwood eventually smacking painfully into your side and making you yelp.
“Stupid child,” the centenarian grins. “I wish you luck and a prosperous future.”
With the Royal Highway in your sights, your thoughts were filled with a whirlwind of excitement at the prospect of working with such a bright mind. Focusing your thesis on the newly excavated Guardian’s design and its sophisticated targeting system had spiraled into a series of meetings with the King’s scientific panel and eventually a position at a lab beyond the imaginations of both you and your Sheikah supervisor.
An hour had sped by and before you knew it, the imposing entrance to the Royal Ancient Tech Lab loomed over you like a giant’s shadow. The secure metal doors were decorated with a pattern of tumultuous swirls and waves, stretching from the edges and across the vast surface like creeping vines on a stone wall. Raising your hand to knock, you were surprised to hear the unmistakable boom of a small explosion on the other side.
Pulling down the handle, the door opened with little resistance, a black cloud of smoke filling your nostrils and making you splutter. “Anyone there?” You called out. Leaving your suitcase at the entrance, you cautiously stepped into the fray, dress shoes squeaking against the floor. Looking around, the first thing you spot are three long stone tables littered with gears and springs of various sizes. The next is the smoking carcass of half a Guardian in the corner.
You stared at the ancient machine, unable to compute.
“Over here!”
Whipping around, your eyes scanned the room.
“Ah, behind the table.” The voice said sheepishly.
Rushing towards it, you quickly vaulted over to the other side, finding a young man on the floor. You blinked, silent as he rubbed his head and groaned, readjusting the metal goggles that sat heavy above his eyes. Taking in his appearance was...overwhelming. He looked, well, rather odd for starters.
His coiffed white hair was combed back and above his forehead in a style you’ve never seen before, fanning out like a peacock’s feathers. It possessed a volume that was miraculously intact despite the blast, making you wonder if he employed some sort of chemical to keep it that way.
The Sheikah uniform that he wore was cream in colour and soot stained from the explosion earlier. You noticed that he’d made a few minor adjustments, rolling his shirt sleeves above the elbows and foregoing the usual navy inner layer completely, giving him a ridiculous V-neck that seemed to go on and on...and oh Goddesses you were staring now. How long have you been staring at him for?
Quick, your brain screamed. Say something, maybe he hasn’t noticed.
You blurted out the first thing in your mind: (well, second. The first was ‘is your hair held up by witchcraft?’ and that probably wouldn’t roll too well.) “Are you okay?”
Reaching out, you offered him a hand up, shocked when he grasped it with no hesitation. His grip was strong but not uncomfortable, and with your help he managed to stand with little trouble.
The grin that he gave in reply was infectious. “I am now, thanks to you.” He had a nice smile. In fact, now that you think about it, his voice was rather nice too. Smooth and—not the time to do this brain!
Releasing your hand, he took a step back, surveying the damage and mess around him. He cleared his throat. “Hm, apologies for the...everything that you see around you right now. I wanted to test a hypothesis regarding the activation of the Guardian’s defense mechanism even whilst inert.” Picking up a fallen gear, he polished it with the edge of his charred shirt and placed it on the table. “Evidently, I got my answer,” he laughed. “So in a way the experiment was a success.”
Oh, he’s a scientist here, you gathered. Great, maybe he could help you find your boss. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew where one of the Directors of this lab was? His name is Doctor Robbie. I’m the new research assistant.” You felt a shock of warmth threatening to creep up your neck, feeling silly at needing to ask a colleague for assistance this early in the day.
His smile widened, your blush rising to your face like mercury in a thermometer. “Know where he is? Why, of course I do.” In the blink of an eye, he stuck his hand in the air, striking a pose that was so charming and silly that you wondered if you’d inhaled too much toxic smoke earlier and was currently hallucinating on the fumes.
“You’re in luck,” he announced. “For the ‘Doctor Robbie’ you’re looking for is none other than I.”
Oh. It was no use, your embarrassment was reaching an all time high and at this point the smartest option was to stop fighting and let the blush takeover and run its course. Trying and failing to hide your shock, you don’t notice the Doctor’s pose wilt at the lack of your response.
Take a deep breath and do it again, your supervisor— ex-supervisor’s voice echoed like an angry phantom that refused to leave your head. Slowly recovering, you bowed low, the seventy degree angle pulling the muscles in your back. “Forgive me, I didn’t know.” You say your name quickly and in one breath. “Pleased to meet you.”
Straightening up, you were relieved at the lack of anger or annoyance in his face. Even with the goggles, it was easy to tell that the Doctor’s expression was relaxed, and if anything, just a tad worried. “The pleasure is all mine. You have nothing to be sorry for, and please, there’s no need to be so formal.”
“Got it. If you show me where the written reports are kept, I can start organising the data as soon as possible.”
“Hmm? Oh, we can worry about that later.” Folding his arms across his chest, Doctor Robbie gracefully spun on his heels, walking towards the Guardian head that tried to set him on fire only minutes ago. “What I need you to do is to grab a crowbar from the table and some gloves.”
“How come?”
Fearlessly knocking on the ancient machine’s temple, he moved to face you, that enigmatic smile back on his face as the gears on his goggles began to turn. “We’re going to see what makes this beauty tick.”
-
:)
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introvert-no-chameleon · 5 years ago
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Chapter 2: Monstrous Consequences
I almost forgot to put the text version on Tumblr! 
Here’s chapter 2 of Of Monsters and McGuckets. The next chapter will probably be a big one, since I have a better idea where the story is going now, so it might take longer than just a couple of days for me to write and edit. 
Don’t worry, folks. I fully plan on seeing this fic through. 
Chapter 1 on Tumblr, if you don’t use/like Archive of Our Own.
Fiddleford usually made a point to ignore the way the Pines brothers acted on the rare occasions where they all shared a meal, despite the offense it was to his Southern upbringing. His Ma would’ve slapped him across the head if he didn’t chew with his mouth closed or say grace before every meal (a habit he kept even long after he stopped going to church).
He’d hate to imagine what she’d do if he ever ate like his two housemates. Stanley paid as much mind to table manners as he did the law, which was none. Sometimes he’d chew with his mouth open just to tick Fiddleford off, and even go as far as putting his muddy boots on the table if he really wanted to get a rise out of his boyfriend. On the other end of the spectrum sat Stanford, who either inhaled his food in a hurry to get back to his research or left it on his plate until it got too cold to eat while he made field notes.
Yet even those memories were not nearly as bad as the scene unfolding in front of him. Stanford had his paws splayed on the table, his face shoved on to his plate. Egg and grease smeared all over his mouth, and Stanford didn’t seem to notice. The silverware lay unused next to Stanford’s plate, jingling whenever he shifted to get a better angle.
Fiddleford held the edge of the table in a death grip to prevent his employer from tipping it over, and only for that reason. It certainly wasn’t because he was getting very uncomfortable staring at those large, powerful jaws rip into his bacon with a growl, while he held it in place with one paw, like a lion would, he imagined, tear into a dead gazelle. Nor did it have anything to do with the earlier, far too casual comment about Stanford wanting to maul things.
Not at all. If Fiddleford happened to take a big gulp of coffee that felt like tar coming down his throat, that was just because of something else.
He took a chance to see how Stanley was doing. His boyfriend poked at his food with the edge of a claw, and Fiddleford wondered if he could even eat, or if he needed to in this form. Just as he meant to ask, Stan chewed his bacon, shrugged, tipped the contents inside his mouth, and swallowed his entire breakfast and the ceramic plate with a loud crunch. And burped afterward.
Fiddleford quietly sipped the rest of his coffee for the remainder of the meal and made a note to avoid eating with them until they got turned back to normal.
After the ordeal that was breakfast, they finally began retracing their steps to the lake. The woods in Gravity Falls managed to have an underlying, buzzing energy to it. It felt as if everything, even the trees themselves, were teeming with life, a fact that used to fill Fiddleford with wonderment. However, as he became aware of the fact that not everything in the forest was as keen as respecting sentient life as he was, that excitement got replaced by the kind of dread that settled heavy on his shoulders and wouldn't be shaken off until he was back in the safety of their home.
Stanford was excitedly talking about the notes he’d just made as they walked. Even with his ever-present anxiety, Fiddleford still found himself listening to what little they knew of their most recent discovery.
“I’ve decided to call the mysterious liquid in the lake Fluvius Cantatis,” said Stanford, ducking under a branch. “Judging by the fact that I saw a few deer drink from the lake and suffer no outward symptoms, I’m guessing the water only affects humans.”
Stanley walked right through the branch, snapping it by just walking into it. The man didn’t flinch. Heck, Fiddleford would be surprised if he’d noticed it.
“That’s mighty interestin’,” said Fiddleford. “Perhaps the water’s been enchanted? Or…cursed?” He shuddered at the thought. If exploring Gravity Falls had taught him anything, it was that curses were stubborn, tricky things that weren’t dealt with so easily.
“Both are a possibility,” said Stanford, nonplussed. “If it was, indeed, enchanted, then there’s a good chance that we may be able to figure it out with some study. I’ve learned a few spells from the walls of that cavern we explored while finding Mothman, so it may help us get back to normal.”
“I sure hope so,” said Fiddleford. “There ain’t no tellin’ what might happen if ya stay like this too long.”
“Yeah, like how I’m going to use the toilet when I’m a giant rock,” said Stanley with a smirk.
Stanford rolled his eyes and continued forward.
“Don’t be crude, Stanley,” said Fiddleford.
The gargoyle shrugged. “Just tryin’ to lighten the mood.” He noticed Fiddleford adjust his backpack for the third time in the last minute. “You, uh, need help there, Fidds?”
“If yer careful,” he said, placing the heavy bag on the ground. Now that he was free of the weight, his shoulders began to ache something awful. Fiddleford cracked his back as he straightened up, groaning. For the fourth time that week, he thought about finally getting around to making that appointment with the town chiropractor.
“Jeez, what’re you carrying in this thing?” Stanley picked up the pack and flipped the top open.
Inside were two pairs of thick rubber gloves, a few beakers wrapped in bubble wrap, metal tongues, a thermometer, glass jars with lids and an entire hazmat suit that Stanley had “borrowed” from some godforsaken government facility one night he and Stanford had gotten while drunk out of their minds. (Those were the only details he'd been given in regards to what went down that night, and after careful consideration, Fiddleford decided that it was probably for the best that it stayed that way).
Stanley raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “A bit much, dontcha think?”
Fiddleford huffed. “One of us has to be careful. That lake don’t sit right with me, an’ it’s better if one of us isn’t affected by whatever yer afflictions are.”
Stanley swung the backpack over one shoulder.  “Relax, I’m pretty sure ya gotta bathe in this stuff for it to do anything. Me an’ Ford jumped right into it.”
“We don’t know that,” said Fiddleford. “An’ I don’t want to take any chances.”
Stanley cast a glance at his brother, who was walking ahead of them, focusing on re-discovering the path they’d went on yesterday. He put a hand on Fiddleford’s shoulder. Even with Stanley being as gentle as could be, the weight of his hand felt crushing. He sucked in a breath.
“Sorry! Shit, I didn’t mean—”
“I-it’s okay. Yer just stronger than usual, s’all.”
Stanley’s joints made a grinding sound as he retracted his hand and let it fall by his side. He cleared his throat. “Look, I’m right here whatever happens, alright? And uh,” He cleared his throat. “If Ford gets carried away, just let me know and I’ll wrestle him back to the shack with us if I haveta.”
“I-I may frighten easy, but there’s no need to be tip-toeing around me as if I’m some sorta newborn kitten.” He forced himself to fake what he’d hoped looked like a reassuring smile.
Stanley frowned, and Fiddleford didn’t need a magic spell to know that the man disagreed. “Look, Fidds. I guess we haven’t really talked about this, an’ this might not be the best place to have this conversation, but…I can’t help but notice you’ve been more on edge lately.”
The way he said those things made the Southern man bristle. He crossed his arms. “I don’t follow.” Fiddleford’s tone was about as inviting as a grizzly bear in a picnic. “Whatever happened to me bein’ more assertive?”
“Hey, I meant that. But…” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. The friction made a grinding sound that only served to worsen Fiddleford’s nerves. “Fidds. Come on. You jump outta your seat if you so much as see a gnome—”
“Those little devils kidnapped me, if ya haven’t forgotten!”
Stanley winced, probably remembering the “Gnome Incident”, as they all called it. It was a sore subject for Fiddleford. Not only did he get mistaken for a woman, but he also ended up getting dragged halfway through the forest by an army of small but astonishingly strong men while tied up like a hog. When Stanley and Stanford came to help after at least a half-hour of humiliation, they’d gotten so many bite marks and bruises from the whole rescue mission that they’d almost considered going to the hospital. The remaining shred of their dignities had been the only reason they hadn’t.
As if that all hadn’t been bad enough, the ropes had left some nasty cuts on Fiddleford’s wrists and ankles. It took weeks for them to heal, and to this day Stanley would still punt away any gnomes that were unfortunate enough to be in Fiddleford’s vicinity.
“Yeah, that’s my point. You’ve just been more jumpy, and…” Stanley seemed to be struggling to get the words out of his mouth. He was squirming where he stood.
In other circumstances, Fiddleford wouldn’t have given him such a hard time. Stan was being more open with his emotions, and that wasn’t easy for him. The young scientist just wished it hadn’t been this particular subject he’d decided to be open about. “An’ what?”
“Look, I’m getting’ kinda worried. You looked like you were about to have a heart attack this mornin’ when we came to the shack.”
Fiddleford set his jaw. “Is that what this mornin’ was? Ya thought that I’d still have my tail stuck between mah legs even after I knew it was you?” He hadn’t expected his anxiety to be so obvious, and now that he knew it was, it was like having someone tear his clothes off in the middle of the town. “Well, excuse me for exercisin’ some caution!”
Stan raised his hands at him, defensively. “Hey, that ain’t what I meant.”
Fiddleford squared his shoulders. “You think that just ‘cause I’m not as well-adjusted to this town’s strangeness as the two of ya, I should just stay inside and have my nose in a book or tinkerin’ away while ya and yer brother do all the dangerous work!”
In actuality, the thought of him doing just that appealed to him greatly, but he wasn’t about to admit that. “I’ll have ya know, I’m an inventor! I’ve made things that could fry a man in two flicks of a lamb’s tail!”
Stanley’s brows furrowed. “I have…no idea what that means.”
“It means, Stanley, that I ain’t some dainty thing that ya need to protect. I’m a grown man with a son of mine own, and I’m more than capable of lookin’ after myself!”
“Fidds, come on! Don’t be like that!”
But Fiddleford had stomped past Stanley, keeping his gaze straight ahead. He caught up with Stanford, who had just came across a couple of bushes that Fiddleford assumed concealed the entrance to the lake.
“Ah, perfect,” said Stanford, blissfully unaware of the tension between Fiddleford and Stanley (business as usual, then). “It’s right past here. Allow Stanley and I to go first. After all, we have already been exposed, and there’s—”
That was it. Fiddleford walked ahead, ignoring whatever was about to come out of Stanford’s mouth. Which was not, he quickly realized, an intelligent thing to do, as his next step sent him sliding down a steep dirt slope that had no business being there.
The twins called his name somewhere behind him, but it was too late. He was tumbling down, the world a blur of browns and greens. He inhaled some dirt and coughed in a vain attempt to clear his burning lungs. Just as he thought he’d be doing this forever, he splashed into a body of knee-deep water and stopped moving.
And now there he was, on his hands and knees, looking like a right fool, in front of his boss and boyfriend, no less. He sighed, bringing a shaky hand to his face, staring down at his reflection. The water had a strange purple hue. Wasn’t that just his luck that he wiped his face with water that had probably been contaminated or—
“Oh,” he said, staring at his palms. The skin began to tingle, glowing with a soft purple light. “Shit.”
A headache that felt as if the Devil Himself had just driven spikes into Fiddleford’s head had him doubling over. The pain was strongest on the left and right sides of his skull. His legs ached, and his feet felt numb. He watched with detached, morbid fascination as they broke through his shoes and got longer, until he was staring, slack-jawed at a set of rabbit feet. He wiggled the toes, his brain still struggling to process his new, horrifying reality.
The entire bottom half of him was part hare, tufts of chestnut brown fur poking out of the waistline of his now torn-up pants. He tried standing up, gasping as his head swung back, heavier than he’d ever remembered it being. He quickly held it in place with his (thank goodness!) human hands. Licking his lips, he brought his hands up to the top of his head. His fingers caressed what felt an awful lot like two large antlers, and a pair of rabbit ears.
A jackalope. He was a jackalope.
Of all the things, of all the mythological creatures in all of existence, he was a goddamn hare with antlers, because life had decided that Fiddleford McGucket hadn’t suffered enough today. The only solace he found was the fact that his face was still human, if the reflection of the lake was anything to go by, which was at least something. He’d probably drown himself right then and there if he had a rabbit nose or some other nonsense like that.
Fiddleford dragged himself out of the lake. The water didn’t drip or fall off his skin. Instead, his body seemed to absorb it. That wasn’t worrying at all.
“Fidds, are you okay? Shit, hold on, I’m almost there!”
Stanley skid down the slope and ran towards him. His wings were raised off the ground so he could run without tripping over them, and his eyes glowed more intensely than he’d seen them yet. Stanford wasn’t far behind, his wings occasionally flapping to help him keep his balance.
The usual sense of relief he’d get whenever Stanley came to his aid was, to his increasing concern, being overrun by something else. It was like somebody had flipped a switch inside of him, activating a strong, fight-or-flight instinct that Fiddleford couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to.
Suddenly, his mind didn’t see Stanley Pines, his beloved partner, and Stanford Pines, his good friend and employer. All he could take in were teeth and jaws and claws that could gut a creature like himself in seconds. This new instinct was worse than any panic attack he’d ever had, his throat tightening, his breathing labored, his head throbbing, seemingly taking over his own body, which began to move as if on its own accord.
He ran back in the woods, getting as far away from Stanley as his legs would carry him, which turned out to be incredibly far, incredibly fast. His heart thumped against his chest as he kept moving forward, crashing through bushes, any coherent thought was far gone, replaced with the need to get away now.
Had he been in his right mind, he’d have noticed Stanley’s big, heartbroken eyes on his back until he was out of sight, swallowed up by Gravity Falls’ forest.
*
Stanford caught up to Stanley just as the latter watched his boyfriend run into the forest at a pace that would almost put Stan’s car to shame. He’d barely seen what Fiddleford had turned into after falling into the lake, but whatever it was looked like some weird bunny-thing that probably had little to no way to defend itself. Well, he guessed running like hell was a damn good way to defend oneself. Couldn’t argue with the results.
“Great.” Stanley held his head. “Just fuckin’ peachy.”
“That could have gone better,” said Stanford.
“You decide to become Captain Obvious today or somethin’?” snapped Stanley. He gestured towards the direction Fiddleford went. “How the fuck are we gonna find him?”
“Calm down, Stan. I have a plan.” Ford pushed his glasses up his nose. “Do you remember those microchips that Fiddleford made?”
Stanley stared at his brother as if he’d just started speaking another language. “Sixer, this ain’t time for your nerd talk, Fidds could get eaten by a mountain lion or bear if we don’t do somethin’!”
Ford glared at him. “This is why I’m bringing it up. Fiddleford it to help us track each other in the case that one of us gets abducted again.” Ford rummaged through the knapsack he always brought with him and pulled out a clunky metal remote with a glass screen. He turned it on. “Aha!”
“What?”
“It’s working magnificently! Fiddleford will be pleased to know that the remote has no problems picking up his signal.”
Stan loved his brother, he really did, but it was shit like his brother managing to be excited about some science gizmo while his friend was hopping around the woods in a panic that really tested his patience. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d also love to be alive to talk about it, so why don’t ya shut yer yap for five seconds so we can get him?”
Ford huffed. He stared back down at the screen. “He’s going towards the middle of the forest, so at least he isn’t near any caves.” He stopped talking, eyes widening. “We need to move. He’s coming across Manotaur territory.”
Stanley swore. “Then let’s go already!”
“Stan, you’re slower like this. You should let me—”
“Oh, hell no, Pointdexter. I’m not waitin’ here while you go off after him. He’s gonna freak out if he sees you alone.”
Ford opened his mouth, saw the expression that Stan had on his face, and let whatever stupid thing he was going to tell Stan, die. “Fine but try not to lose me. I’m going to have to…” He sighed. “Run on four legs.”
Even in his state of mind, Stanley couldn’t resist grinning. “Maybe this situation isn’t all bad.”
Ford took off his boot and threw it at his brother. It bounced off him. Stan didn’t even feel it.
“Fiddleford better be grateful for this,” muttered Ford as he freed himself of his other shoe and began to—there was no other word for it—gallop in the direction Fiddleford went.
Filing the mental image of his brother running around like a giant housecat for later, Stan lumbered behind him. He was determined to keep up, not wanting to waste more time.
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themockingcrows · 5 years ago
Text
Familiar Ch. 5: Quicken
This chapter is mildly not safe for work This chapter is available on my AO3! All the preparation in the world won't ready you for some things when it comes to cohabitating with a bird hybrid, but some things come more naturally than others.
     “Hold still,” Dave said, carefully aiming the shot so he could capture John and the surrounding moss in the shot. He’d been trusted with Dad’s camera for the day again, and he wasn’t going to mess up the chance to make the most of it. He’d already taken shots of the surrounding woods, but taking some nice shots of himself and of John were still high up on his list. He had to keep track of so many things with this camera: how much film was left, that the lens cap was off, that everything was in focus, that his hands didn’t shake, and God forbid that he didn’t drop the camera again.
     “How much longer till I can move,” John groaned as if he were dying. Seventeen years old, and he still didn’t have an ounce of patience to his name. Dave took a snap, pulled back from the camera and threw some leaves on top of John before adjusting them individually, trying to make it look as careless as if he’d been sleeping in the forest all autumn instead of dodging puddles of mud and praying it didn’t rain yet again before the shoot could be finished.
     “Close your eyes and stay still,” Dave grumped, snapping a few pictures at different angles before giving the go ahead to rise.
     Grunting, John sat up and pulled leaves out of his hair, dusting sticky flecks of dirt and moss off his jacket and the back of his head. “Oh FINALLY, my ass was going numb. Do you realize how cold the ground is out here?”
     “I was born outside, John.”
     “I mean currently. With a human ass. Human ass thermometer says it’s too cold to be sitting on the ground,” John explained, coming to stand closer to Dave’s side as he looked around. “Where else did you wanna take pictures? It’s supposed to rain later, Dad wouldn’t want his camera wet.”
     “I know. I was thinking somewhere a bit further… there’s a stand of trees and this huge pile of rocks, I wanna get some angles of that.”
     “Big pile of rocks. Exciting.”
     “It’s a huge pile, John, wait till you see it.”
     John hummed and nodded to show he was listening and believing as much as he could, but it was difficult. For one, he was chilled and Dave’s fascination with photography could be tiring to keep up with. For another… he was distracted.
     Dave had been more hands on the last few weeks, more touchy feely than usual. He lingered with wake up kisses, kept finding more and more excuses to settle on John’s lap. He also kept making sure John got the bigger half of things suddenly, making sure his plate was first in the line and that he got plenty of snacks. Dave kept being caught staring, watching, lingering in doorways to keep track of where John was. He’d improved his rock collection with shiny stones from here and there… though also he was gifted with bottle caps and soda pop tabs, beads and odds and ends from around the house and up in the attic. It was sweet, really, but it was a bit confusing, a ramp up on his usual behavior.
     Noticing so much of Dave’s abnormal behavior was making John notice Dave and his mannerisms more. The way he touched his face when he was crouched on a chair, the way he flipped his hair out of his eyes but refused to let Dad trim it shorter, the way his face screwed up when he got a good scratch between the shoulder blades, the way his wings twitched and splayed out when it was grooming time. The way he smiled, frowned, the way his face relaxed when he napped against his shoulder in the afternoons while John worked on schoolwork.
     “...John?”
     “Huh? What.”
     “The rocks are here,” Dave said, gesturing proudly. “I was asking what you think. Thought,” he corrected.
     John blinked, realizing he’d been following without paying attention. He glanced around to orient himself before taking in the view. The rocks were, as promised, pretty sweet. They were massive boulders with moss and speckled markings, balanced atop other boulders. The very top held a decrepit sapling that had tried to flourish and dried upon death, dangling at an angle by its roots. John whistled softly at it.
     “Okay, this is cool. What kind of pictures did you want?”
     Considering for a moment, Dave soon gave directions for John to climb the first stone and sit in different ways, standing on the last shot, before carefully coming down. If they were developed right, they’d hopefully come out looking how they did in Dave’s head. Maybe if they were in black and white they’d be more pressing, or sepia…
     “Hey, let me take a few shots of you,” John offered with a grin, reaching for the camera. “I bet your wings would look great against the stone.”
     Dave’s wings abruptly fluffed and splayed out showily before stretching and flattening out. He cleared his throat, coughed, and righted his wings again.
     “Yeah?”
     “Yeah! Go up where I was and crouch. Maybe ditch the jacket, if you can handle the temperature,” he said, holding the camera up in front of one of his glasses lenses and smirking, crouching down to one knee for the full effect before standing up again. Okay, that was silly, he couldn’t see from that angle.
     Hesitating for a moment, Dave pulled his jacket off and flared his wings again, flapping them a few times before he turned and scaled the rock face, finding the stable point John had been at before turning around and crouching. As expected, the dark feathers against the stone looked amazing in the dull light, and John found himself wishing he was better at photography to catch it in some better light. Maybe when they were home he could get a look at the feathers under the light and get a snap of them there, black and faintly iridescent close up where the filaments of feather connected.
     “Got it! Come on down!” John called, grinning as Dave splayed his wings and hopped down, coasting a bit before flapping to stabilize his landing. When John grinned broadly at him, Dave’s wings twitched and tried to flatten out once more, fluttering when he turned to pick up his jacket and pull it back on. 
     A stick broke in the distance, though it didn’t catch Dave’s attention. John’s attention, however? He was predisposed to being overly aware of their surroundings when his head wasn’t in the clouds, especially when they were away from the yard. It was his job, guarding Dave’s existence from the outside. This deep in the woods should be safe, but there were natural threats to worry about, bears and other creatures.
     ...Or humans.
     In this case, a hiker with a cell phone who was staring at them from a ways away before freezing and taking off running the opposite direction as if pursued. Cursing, John stuffed the camera back into Dave’s bare hands before grasping his upper arm and tugging, dragging him into a run the other direction.
     “Fuck, wait,” Dave cawed, trying to cover the lens with the cap without dropping the camera before adjusting his grip and hurrying along after John, back towards the house. They sprinted, John leading them astray till things started to look more familiar and he corrected the route since Dave was the one who’d led them in this time, and didn’t stop till they reached the edge of the woodline.
     Slowly, John sank down into a crouch and grasped the back of his head with both hands, panting heavily as he listened to his pulse hammering in his ears. “Shit, shit, shit… Shit.”
     “John?” Dave panted, watching him before mimicking him, crouching down. One wing stretched out and curled loosely around John’s back like an arm, shielding him while he was down. “...John?” he asked again, worried.
     “I’m fine. It’s okay. We’re fine. This is totally okay. We were just seen by a stranger with a phone, no big deal,” John rambled, only to go quiet and croon an upset noise out once more. 
     Biting his lip, Dave considered his choices. He looked around the empty yard, the distant shape of Dad’s car parked in front on the gravel, the shriveled remains of the garden and the last crops that hadn’t been picked yet, the vast amount of pumpkins on display. He looked back over his shoulder, back towards the woods he knew so well from before, then back to John’s shaking shoulders and panicked expression.
     “Oh fuck, oh man, oh God Dad’s gonna be pissed off why wasn’t I watching clos-”
     Dave had leaned and grasped John’s chin, holding it carefully as he pecked his lips once. Twice. Three times. Normally he’d pull back then and nuzzle while cawing affectionately… but this time Dave remained in place, lip to lip. He was letting out a soft sound, croaky singsong noises that were surprisingly comforting to hear, and didn’t pull back till John’s breathing was slower and calm.
     “...Uhm.”
     Dave just grinned at him and fluttered his wings hopefully, giving them small shivery shakes before folding them against his back once more.
     “...Heh. Haha. Hahahahaha.”
     “John?”
     Caught up in the giggles, Dave adjusted his glasses and shook his head, holding a hand up begging for a moment to collect himself. It took the full minute before he could wheeze. “I’m s- Ahahaha. I’m sorry. Just. Fuck I was so freaked out and suddenly I’m getting kissed and just?? Ahaha that’s just so funny for some reason. Can’t panic while you’re being kissed I guess? Off switch located on the lips.”
     Dave’s grin widened and he leaned forwards to repeat the kiss now that John was laughing, which only made him giggle more. The camera was set aside in favor of Dave crawling messily onto John’s lap, knocking him over, and then crawling up his body to keep the kiss going. They were a pile of laughter and kisses, Dave’s wings splaying out over the two of them and John’s hands playing along Dave’s ribs to tickle him, making him join in the giggles.
     It was so hard to be stressed around Dave. It’s like he outright didn’t allow it to happen. Fuck he was lucky to have a friend like him.
     ...Er. ...Was he just a friend? Had he ever been just a friend, when so much hinged on making sure he was happy and safe and by his side? When his daily morning routine involved kisses and affection that John knew he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing with anyone else?
     He was still being kissed by Dave when the giggles died down and he didn’t feel the urge to break it off or push him away. John felt warm in his stomach, a flush in his cheeks and down his back, lightheaded from the rush of laughter and the sudden stimulation. Dave was warm against him, his body weight slight but welcome, and the shadow of his wings beautiful against the dim light of the sky. John forgot how cold his ass was on the ground, that his dad might be able to see them. All that mattered then was keeping Dave close for just a little longer.
     Lifting both hands up, John grasped Dave’s waist before raising up higher to touch the base of his wings, getting a soft, startled caw out of Dave before they fluttered and flattened out again as they had earlier. What was up with that? Or with the throaty noises Dave was making? It was cute, sort of like a sound effect from a game, clicky and croaky and tinged with the warm tones of his voice.
     All good things come to an end. Dave was the one who eventually parted the kiss, face flushed and body stiff. He was arching away a bit, body seeming to want more contact but trying to avoid it at the same time. Specifically, he was keeping his hips awa-
     Oh.
     … Oh.
     Clearing his throat, John gently pushed at Dave’s shoulders to get him off his lap, realizing he was at risk of the exact same thing. This was normal. Well. Not normal for them persay, but it was a natural thing to have happen? Fuck, he hoped he didn’t need to have a chat with him about it. Or worse, Dad.
     … Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He’d handled the introduction to those things well enough when John himself was learning them, maybe having The Talk with him wouldn’t be life ruining. 
     Wait, why was he thinking about this, there were bigger problems at hand.
     “Dave, we need to tell Dad what happened.”
     As if remembering minutes earlier, Dave’s tense frame wilted and he nodded, glancing back to the camera before he crawled over to pick it up. Well. At least they’d managed to get a lot of pictures before being interrupted. … Not to mention getting to kiss him, that had been nice. Very nice, if the zinging in his pants was anything to go by.
     Slowly rising, adjusting his jeans and dusting debris off of himself again, John slapped either side of his face a few times. “Okay. Okay, we’ll just go inside and Dad’ll be all ‘Hello, son! How are you!’ and I’ll be all ‘Hey Dad! We got seen by a hiker!’ and he’ll be all..” John trailed off, realizing he wasn’t sure what his father would say or do. He groaned quietly.
     “John,” Dave said, reaching a hand out. It was a simple gesture, a single word being a command as much as his name, an offer of comfort. John took his hand and laced their fingers before slowly starting the walk towards the house.
     They were still peeling their jackets off when James strolled into the mud room with a smile. “There you two are. I’ve got some hot apple cider to share, if you boys would have some with the pie from earlier.”
     Leave it to his dad to bake circles around everyone, but the idea of hot cider and some fresh pie was good, especially after the time in the woods.
     “Sure, Dad.” Might as well get him nice and busy first. No, no, putting it off was bad. Gnawing his lip and squeezing Dave’s hand tight once again, he shook his head. “Dad? Something… something happened.”
     Almost immediately James’ stance changed and his eyes narrowed, looking them both over from head to toe, checking for injuries or signs of damage. With no sign of blood of serious scuffs, he let out a pent breath and smiled again.
     “Take a breath and tell me, Son, it can’t be that bad. I’ve seen your surprises before after all,” he said, gesturing to Dave before turning to head to the kitchen, the unsaid request for them to follow him hanging in the air.
     “We uhm. We went to go take pictures, yeah?” John said, taking a seat at the table.
     “Is the camera damaged? It’s okay if it is, but I’d like to know.”
     “No, camera is fine,” Dave promised. “Not a scratch.”
     “...You’re making me a bit concerned,” James chuckled as he cut apple pie into even slices and pulled out some whipped cream to top them with. “Go ahead and tell me before I start jumping to more conclusions.”
     “Well uh. We.. We got the pictures,” John said encouragingly. “Then someone… might have probably seen Dave. Their phone was up, too. They might have gotten pictures.”
     James slowed to a halt at the news before slowly making himself start to move again, bringing over the pie slices before going to get big mugs of cider for each boy’s place. He didn’t speak till everyone had a mug, and even then he was quiet as he sat down with a soft sigh, warming his hands on his cup. 
     “How close were they to you? Close enough to tell they’re not a costume?”
     “I don’t know,” admitted John, looking down at his pie, one hand still clasped in Dave’s. It helped. “They looked fairly far away.”
     “Well. I’ll keep an eye out for any signs of things, but odds are if they weren’t close, any photo they could get wouldn’t be the best quality,” James said. He smiled a bit. “We all knew this day might come. We’ll just deal with it best we can. Okay, son?”
     John pulled up a smile the best he could, but he still felt worry. The smile faded and he eventually released Dave’s hand to clasp his mug, tilting the contents and swirling flecks of cinnamon and thicker liquid around the bottom. Home made cider really was the best.
     “What do we do if the word gets out, though?” he asked, looking over to Dave. Though the bird boy had taken a sip of cider and seemed content, he’d taken out his chewing toy from beneath his shirt and was idly gnawing at it while the conversation remained intense, stress bouncing his teeth on the material. Gone were the days of stress biting elsewhere, but it was still a reminder that the topic needed to ease out soon enough or that toy wouldn’t last nearly as long as it could under normal circumstances.
     “We’ll deal with it one step at a time, as it happens,” James promised. “If anyone comes knocking from the press, we’ll just have to keep Dave cloaked for a while. If anyone comes knocking from our higher authority… well. We’ll tell the truth and hope they understand the circumstances and that you were just a child.”
     John’s stomach ached a bit, but he nodded. It was the best answer he could get given the circumstances, and it wouldn’t do to push further hoping for more. He finally took a sip of the warm liquid, feeling it slip down his throat to soothe his stomach like a hug. “Okay, Dad.”
     “Now, let’s lighten up those faces, you look like the council is breathing down our necks already,” James chuckled. “What if Dave becomes his own form of notoriety? A… oh, what’s the word. A cryptid.”
     “Like Moth Man or the Jersey Devil?” John asked. Dave looked at him, confused, not understanding. He spit his toy out to go back to sipping his drink, then set the mug aside to dig into the pie wholeheartedly. Even stress wasn’t enough to deter Dave’s appetite when snacks were involved, especially not freshly baked ones. 
     “Yes, precisely,” James said, before explaining the basic premise of a cryptid to Dave. “You see, if enough people believe a winged boy exists in the woods… the funnier and less real it sounds. The fewer people would believe the story to begin with.”
     “But then you’d also get diehards who’d want to practically live in the woods, stalk the house, and never buzz off,” John warned. “We’d have to move!”
     James pursed his lips as if the idea’s downside had only then occurred to him. “My. You may have a point there, John. Perhaps that wouldn’t be ideal after all.”
     “I think being a cryptid would be fun, I could scare people,” Dave said, cawing loudly a few times and flaring his wings out in a showy fashion before they rustled and went back to normal folded against his back and the back of the chair.
     “Hah! Well, at least he’s game if it came to that,” James chuckled. “Ah, I’ll develop the pictures for you later. Do you want them a certain way?”
     “Black and white, please,” Dave asked. “Or sepia. I like how those look.”
     Nodding, he reached for the camera and checked the number of shots left. “Hmm. We’ve got a few left on this roll. How about you keep the camera for now, and give it back when all the pictures are used up instead?”
     “Are you sure?” Dave asked, pausing his pie destruction to look up with wide eyes.
     “Positive. You’ve been very careful with my camera and it shows, I trust you with it.
     Giddy, Dave beamed at him and went back to devouring the pie slice and whipped cream, getting a dab on his cheek and nose in his excited fervor of snacking. Laughing, John reached over with a finger to scoop the cream off, popping it into his own mouth without a second thought.
     The sound from outside came first as a soft, low rumble that steadily grew in intensity until the windows rattled. Everyone went quiet before James looked to the window and hummed.
     “Ah. The rain should be coming any minute now, then. The clouds were looking ready to burst all day today.”
     “Should we get the candles? That was a lot of thunder.”
     “Candles might be a good idea. Be ready to cast a few orbs as well for your room when you go to sleep, you know how dangerous it is to sleep with candles lit.”
     “We know, Dad, don’t worry. Right, Dave?”
     “Mhmm. Yessir,” he said quickly, rubbing his face with his forearm before putting his hands on the table and using them to push himself up from his seat. He scampered out of the room before coming back to put his dishes in the sink, then took off again at a dash, already knowing where the candles and matches were stored in their preparedness boxes and knowing which scented ones he wanted to use more than others.
     “I promise, John. Everything will be okay,” James said softly once they were alone. “Try not to worry about anything. We’ve come this far and gone this long without any issues, we can handle a few bumps in the road. We’re family, after all.”
     “Okay, Dad. Thanks,” John said, finishing his snack up before going to hug his father, accepting the kiss to the side of the head and the firm squeeze of two large arms that eventually released him. “What’s for dinner later?”
     “Leftovers,” James said. “And if the power goes out, snacks. Remember, don-”
     “Don’t open the fridge, you’ll let all the cold out and it’s a pain in the neck to adjust cooling spells to the precise temperature in a confined space for however long it’d be out,” John rattled off. “I know, I know. Don’t worry. I remember the icicle milk.”
     James chuckled, eyes crinkling at the edges as he stood up to take care of the dishes. “Go help Dave then, and make sure the windows upstairs are all shut for me?”
     “Alright,” John called before taking off at a jog to catch up with the bird boy.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
     The storm that hit the house that night was bigger than anticipated. It didn’t knock the power out, but it was taking every opportunity to rattle the windows threateningly, to pelt the car with debris and what they were pretty sure sounded like hail, and to put pressure on every single tree in the forest. Breaking branches rang out like gunshots in the blackness, startling everyone who heard them.
     Though they didn’t need them, John and Dave lit candles anyway, while John got a few light orbs going in different colors to drift lazily around the room, set to dissipate within several hours like gently floating nightlights. Dave was blissful with the scent of the ocean and the soft shadows the candles cast against the wall, curled up against John’s side on his bunk as John read a book. The camera had been left on the desk for now, safe and out of the way. His book didn’t hold his attention for too long, however, not with Dave pressed so warm up against his side and memories of earlier rushing through his head.
     Unable to take it any longer, John coughed and set the book aside.
     “Hey, uh. Dave? About earlier. What uh. ...What were you doing?”
     “Earlier?” Dave asked, looking up from where the book was set, confused. “How much earlier.”
     “You know what I mean, right? The kiss?” John asked, keeping his voice down to avoid his dad hearing. The last thing he needed was a Congrats On The Liplock! Cake in the morning. “You uhm. It was different from the ones you normally do, like in the mornings.”
     Dave nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Of course it was different, John, weren’t you paying attention?
     “...Why?” John finally asked.
     Here was where things got a bit difficult to answer. Dave opened his mouth, closed it, tried again and failed again. When the words wouldn’t come he puffed up and made an agitated cawing sound before dropping his head back to look up towards the ceiling and underside of the upper bunk to try finding the words hidden there instead.
     “...Was it okay?” was what he finally asked.
     “I’m. Well. ...Yeah. It was okay,” John finally said. It had been more than okay, actually. It had been kind of fantastic in the moment, but how could he explain that?
     “Can I do it again?” Dave asked, cocking his head.
     “Do. ...Do you want to?” John asked.
     Dave smiled at him and nodded, already moving to straddle John once more, before John put his hands on his shoulders, face flaming. “Whoa, whoa, hold on. Just. Give me a second,” he said, fluster growing more intense when Dave didn’t seem phased. Though held back, he spread his wings and flattened them out as he had before, crooning that soft, croaking song once again as he bobbed his head a few times, eyes looking slightly glazed.
     ...Wait.
     “...Are. Are you flirting with me when you do that?”
     Dave paused his crooning, face reddening, and looked askew.
     “Is this a bird flirting thing? Earlier too?”
     Slowly, Dave leaned back and covered his face with his hands as he started to make the crooning noise again.
     “It is, isn’t it! It’s. Wait, no, birds don’t flirt. Oh my God is that a bird sex thing?” John asked, smirking. Shit, Dave looked pretty cute like this, burning red in the face in the candlelight and trying to continue making his sounds as if he wasn’t able to stop himself from doing it. 
     It suddenly all made so much sense. The extra food, the preference for him going first in things, the shiny odds and ends, the staring, the extra touches. All of it made sense. ...Mostly.
     “How long?” John asked quietly.
     Slowly, Dave uncovered his face and wet his lips, the crooning noises stopping prematurely.
     “...Always,” Dave said. “You’re always my most important. Most special. Mine,” he said haltingly.
     Dave had been a fully grown crow before becoming a humanoid and growing again, adjusting to his new life. He had new habits to learn, new things to adjust to. John had never set him loose before, there had never been a chance for his familiar to breed if there’d even been an interest. Yet seeing him now, hearing him crooning, watching the displays and making sense of how hard he’d been trying it seemed obvious that Dave had chosen his partner already.
     It was just up to John to accept or not.
     Easy choice, after so long of being together and closer than close.
     John reached his hands up and rested them on Dave’s hips again, waiting till he set his hands on his chest to balance before reaching up to kiss him once, twice, three gentle times, following the morning pattern. Dave pressed forward for the fourth time and held it, eyes closed and head tilted to deepen the gesture. John kneaded at Dave’s hips, keeping him close before humming into the kiss.
     Dave’s lips still tasted like cinnamon from the pie and drink earlier, sweet and welcoming. He was a warm, comforting weight on his lap, and when he eventually stiffened and tried to pull away again, John tensed his arms to keep him scooped close. No escape. Dave hesitated… then dipped his hips forward instead of trying to go back, grinding downwards.
     The candlelight grew brighter and flickered wildly, while the orbs above whirled around quicker and bounced into each other aimlessly like drunken marbles. Earlier, they’d stopped short of this but now there was no reason not to see where the rabbit hole led. John felt himself stirring down below, but decided well enough was well enough and ignored it. He was satisfied that Dave didn’t pull away when he released his hips, hands drifting up to instead touch softly at his wings, tracing feathers as they spread out. The bird shivered when he felt fingers tracing between his shoulder blades, the sensitive skin around where the wings protruded, then up towards his neck.
     They wouldn’t go further than this, deepening kisses and warm touches, the shy press of body on body as stiffness appeared. John knew he’d need to have a conversation with Dave about it after all, probably explain a few other things… including some ground rules for the displays in front of his father, if all of those behaviors were flirting. There had to be limitations on things if everyone was going to keep living happily together, after all.
     John felt Dave’s tongue and shyly opened his mouth to the invasion, allowing him even closer. Time swept away and all they focused on was warmth and touching of shoulders, hips, faces, chests. The taste of lip and skin, the sound of heartbeats syncing up as if hearing a song their hearts had long forgotten and falling into line. Safety.
     Comfort.
     The storm raged outside, but all that Dave and John were focused on was each other, only separating when they had to come up for air, smiling shyly and laughing before falling together again to kiss gentle and sweet. There was hunger there, just under the surface, but tonight? Tonight there was no place for hunger, just the wonder of being alive and together in the same space.
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megalony · 6 years ago
Text
Condition
A Roger Taylor imagine that I will be doing a follow-up part for, I hope you all enjoy it.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac
Roger Taylor masterlist
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It always felt different.
When tours lasted generally three months, both of them were used to breaking their normal routines to adapt to routines on their own or in different places. Coming back to the old routine was never easy, it didn't happen straight away like flicking a switch but that didn't mean that it was always a bad thing.
Roger could wake up with someone beside him instead of either being on a bunk in the tour bus or on his own in a hotel room. It was no longer long-distance phone calls or sending postcards. It wasn't longing to be back at home with the one person he was missing to the ends of the Earth. Well, Roger guessed that it was the two people he had been missing now, instead of just the one.
Slowly opening her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light in the room, (Y/n) couldn't help the smile pulling at her lips when she saw Roger beginning to sit up beside her. She had gotten used to waking up alone for the past three months, having to remember to only get one cup out in the morning instead of two. Remembering that announcing she was home would only tell the house that she was there, not anyone else. Moving her hand, (Y/n) very lightly rubbed at her eyes with the base of her hand to wake herself up and clear her vision. Stopping when Roger reached out and entwined their hands, pulling her hand to his chest for a moment before he moved so he was leaning over her.
(Y/n) didn't have to ask what he was doing, they had been together for years and had built up a normal morning and night routine by now. She let her eyes trail to the left, then to the right, and then looked up at the ceiling before Roger nodded with a smile.
Pushing herself so she was sitting up, (Y/n) watched with a smile as Roger rubbed his thumb over her lips before nodding once again.
"Perfectly fine." He mumbled before pressing his lips to her own as he reached his left hand out. Fumbling to grab the thermometer on the side table before handing it to (Y/n) when they pulled apart. Watching her eyes rolling as he simply raised his brows and waited. "Don't be stubborn." He chided as if she were a child refusing to take her medicine which prompted her to place the thermometer under her tongue.
Watching as Roger took her hands in his own, beginning to check over her exposed arms before looking at her neck. Trailing down to pull up the bottom of her shirt to expose the rest of her skin. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her growing stomach as his eyes checked for any rashes or scratches or bruises on her skin. (Y/n) handed the thermometer to Roger with a smirk that showed him nothing was wrong after he was satisfied there were no marks, bruises or rashes on her back either. He glanced at the thermometer before nodding as (Y/n) placed it back on the side table.
"You're all good." Roger bit his lip as he watched how his words dampened her mood which was not their desired effect.
He felt his eyes filling with sadness at the distant look on (Y/n)'s features as her mind started to drift, beginning to wish and daydream for things to be different. She didn't want to have to wake up every morning and have a routine checklist to tick off. She didn't want to be who she was because she was effort and trouble without meaning to be. She was a handful when all she wanted was to be normal.
Her body had never produced the nerve signals that sent signals of pain up to her brain so she never registered if she was ill or not. She had had people in the past tell her how great that must be and how they wished they had this condition. If only they knew what it meant.
People looked at her when they found out and they desired to be pain-free when they did things such as got a cut on their knee or got punched or attacked or in an accident or went through childbirth. That all meant they could do the easy or hard things without the pain. They didn't have to feel that little bit of pain that (Y/n) so desired in her life. They didn't know what else came with her life. They didn't know that she could scratch her eyes until they bled or until she damaged them because she didn't feel anything at all. They didn't know that she had to have Roger check the shower or bath temperature because she couldn't register hot or cold.
They didn't know that she had to check her body for bruises, rashes or scratches in the morning. They didn't know she had to check her temperature in case she had a fever because she couldn't tell if she was ill or not. No one understood that she even had to check her lips because she could bite on them and chew through her skin without knowing because it didn't register.
Even Roger's loving touch registered only a little. She couldn't feel his body temperature, she didn't know if he was warm or cold so touch was always foreign to (Y/n).
"Hey." Roger stated quietly, pressing his index finger under her chin so he could tilt her head so she was looking at him again. "This is your body, this is part of you and that's completely fine. You don't have to wish for something else because this is you and that isn't bad... Talk to me, sweetheart." The drummer had spent days on end trying to get (Y/n) to see this from a different angle.
This was part of her, this condition was her and no amount of wishing was going to change that. This was the life she had and (Y/n) could only make the most of what she had, wishing for something she would never get was only going to drive her insane and Roger didn't want that. He tried to show her how good her life was, how he loved who she was and she had to embrace who she was but he understood that it wasn't always easy.
"I don't want them to be like me."
Children had been something that the couple had talked about on many occasions. They both wanted children at some point in their lives but before it had either been Roger was too busy or on tour or (Y/n) didn't want to take the risk. Her condition was a genetic factor and that meant she could give it to their child and she would never want to bring up a child with the condition that she had. She also worried about going through a pregnancy because her life was risky as it was. If something happened with the baby or she got an infection or internal problem, (Y/n) wouldn't know about it.
Every day she was at risk because when she was ill she didn't know, her case was very rare and people who had this from birth had a low life expectancy because as children they wouldn't know if they were ill. She got get something as a child such as an infection or she could get knocked over and have internal bleeding and not know about it. She had gotten through her traumatic childhood with this condition and she didn't want to do that to another soul.
But there was always the chance that if they had a child, the baby wouldn't get (Y/n)'s condition. There was a chance the pregnancy would go smoothly and that she and the baby would be fine.
So both of them had decided that the time was now. Queen had done their last tour for the foreseeable future and (Y/n) knew it was a risk that she was now willing to take.
"We can't pick and choose, sweetheart. They might not be, but if they are then at least you know what it's like to help them through it." Roger couldn't sugarcoat this and say that their child wouldn't have (Y/n)'s genetic condition like they both hoped. But he couldn't say for definite that they would either, all he could offer was that if they didn't then things would be easier for all of them. Or if their child did get the condition, then at least (Y/n) had gone through it herself so she had experience whereas her parents hadn't known how to help with her condition.
(Y/n) nodded in response, a small smile coming onto her features because she did know that either way, she would give their child a better upbringing than she had. It had only been (Y/n) and her mother for as long as she could remember and that wasn't the best situation. A mother who was both overprotective yet rather uncaring at times was an odd combination.
(Y/n)'s childhood was filled with being denied everything until the point going outside was too much to ask of her mother because she was afraid that something would happen to (Y/n). But on other occasions, her mother had been rather distant as if she wasn't really there with (Y/n).
Roger had been in (Y/n)'s life since she was nineteen and he was twenty-three. He had seen how she had rebelled against her mother to have a life of her own, how she had been reckless when he met her because that was what her condition did to her. When you had no pain to hold you back it gave you a false sense of confidence that was sometimes blocked by the fear of knowing you could harm yourself badly or die. (Y/n) had been shut inside and wrapped in bubble wrap all her life that she had wanted to break free from.
She rebelled by going out when told not to. She took risks because that was what she could do. She had broken so many bones she should have been in the Guinness book of records. When she met Roger, not long afterwards she had been in a car crash that could have easily cost her her life because she didn't care. She had nothing to hold her down, nothing or no one to show her that life was precious no matter if you had the pain to show you that or not. Roger was the one to show her that being reckless was not the way to go. She didn't have to break bones or gain bruises and torn ligaments to let herself live. She just needed someone to love her.
(Y/n) didn't want their child to think they had to take risks because that was the only option in life.
"Oh, I forgot to ask you. When's the next scan?" Roger lightened the mood as the question suddenly popped into his head. They were now six months into the pregnancy meaning they had roughly three more to go if all went to plan. At the moment the only connection (Y/n) felt was their baby kicking but other than that it made her worry that something could go wrong because she would be oblivious to it. Scans calmed them both down and showed them there was nothing to worry about.
"Um... I can't remember off the top of my head. It'll be on the calendar downstairs."
Pushing herself from the bed, (Y/n) squeezed Roger's hand before heading into the adjoining bathroom to escape the conversation she knew he was going to pursue. Just as she was going to turn on the shower, (Y/n) stopped to catch sight of her reflection in the mirror.
There were small scars around her eyes from where she had rubbed and scratched at the skin with her nails, unknowingly causing her skin to tear. But it was her lips that always caught her attention. There were marks and little white lines on and just above and below her lips where as a child, she had bitten her lips and pulled the skin. She hadn't felt the pain so as a toddler had bitten her lip but either sunk her teeth into the skin or torn it without knowing. It was something that made her self conscious even though you had to be very close up to (Y/n) to see the marks. But whenever Roger kissed her, as weird as it seemed, he seemed to be trying to kiss away the marks, to make her forget about them. And it worked.
"Please tell me you booked one?" Roger asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned his weight onto the doorframe. Watching his wife stop in her tracks before a sigh escaped her lips.
She kept her back to Roger, not wanting to see the expression on his face as she waited when he started to move. Instead of walking away, Roger walked forward, moving to wrap his arms around her waist. His hands resting on her stomach, letting his fingers trail over her skin as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
"You promised-"
"I know, but I... I just couldn't Rog. If I go to our doctor then they'll run all those stupid tests but if I go to the doctor I went to before they'll end up finding out my history. Either way one of them will refer me to the hospital and I'm not going yet." She felt Roger sighing into her skin before he turned his head so he could press his lips to her neck.
When (Y/n) had transferred to the GP that was closest to them which was the one Roger went to, they had got her history and found out about her condition. She was a rarity because of her genetics and they liked to do all sorts of tests that (Y/n) knew weren't going to help her or benefit her in any way. But if she went to their doctor now and told him she was pregnant they would make a fuss and keep her in the hospital which she didn't want to happen.
They had gone to a different doctor for the first few scans so they wouldn't have her medical history but they needed it and if (Y/n) went again then they would send out for her history and find out and she would go to the hospital either way. She wanted to go when she was closer to her due date, (Y/n) didn't want any fuss or tests or to be overwhelmed just yet.
"You can't just not go, sweetheart. We need to know the little one's alright... we'll go to our doctor next week I promise you don't have to go to the hospital unless something's wrong but we have to plan now."
"But-"
"Love, listen to me, please. You won't know when you're in labour until your water breaks. Something could go wrong, you could get an infection, anything could happen so you'll need to be in hospital around your due date but that can't happen without you being checked out now so we know for sure nothing's wrong." Roger understood, he really did. (Y/n) had lived in hospitals during her childhood and even more when she began to rebel and go out and take risks and get hurt. But this was different, it wasn't just her that could get ill, it was their baby too.
There was a high chance (Y/n) wouldn't know she was in labour and so she would need to be checked over and monitored so they would know and make sure she or the baby didn't get ill around that time.
(Y/n) placed her hand on top of Roger's which was resting on her stomach as she turned her head to the left so she could look at him. Seeing a rather concerned yet pleading look on his face as he was begging for her to understand and go with him on this. He wasn't doing this to upset her or make her uncomfortable, it was just to make sure that she was alright. Biting her lower lip, (Y/n) nodded before Roger reached one hand out to free her lip just in case she bit down too hard which he had seen her do many times before.
"Thank you." He stated earnestly before pressing his lips to her own.
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gayovwimagines · 6 years ago
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Hi!! How would you feel about a dub con request for Y!Moira finally cornering her smol!obsession and getting them worked up and flustered before just having her way with them?? I just... Oh goodness I want that woman to pin me down and do terrible things to me and leave me overestimated and just craving her constant touch. Unnff 🤤
Notable tags! Dubious Consent and Yandere!Moria. Dubious consent is due to sex mist. Oh, and Blackwatch!Moira. 
“Hello there~ Do come in.” Moira spins around on her stool. Nonchalant. As if she had naturally noticed you walk in. Not eagerly watching the door, both her hands curled into a fist on the counter. Work in front of her, work all around her. Moira can’t pay any of it any due attention. Absolutely was not carefully monitoring the surveillance cameras on her personal holopad, clearance she isn’t authorized to have. Watching you walk down the halls, stopping to chat here and there. Moira made spiteful mental notes of the people daring to keep you from reaching her at the agreed upon time.  
“Hey!” You greet her back with a nervous grin. “You need me for some testing?”
“Yes, that is what my voice message conveyed.” Moira motions you over to her station with one elegant swoop of her hand, her slender fingers curling in elegantly, one after the other. She points to the stool to her left. “Have a seat.”
You plop down on the seat, as commanded, and patiently wait for Moira to tell you why she has called you here. You joined Overwatch a few months back. Agreed to test some of Moira’s… tamer creations and experimentations. In exchange for a more than just a decent amount of extra cash.
Moira has no problems with prolonged silence. Almost never feels the need to rush anything. She takes her sweet time poking and swiping at her holopad. Making doubly sure the doors to her lab are locked, and her work status is set to ‘do not disturb’, for any of her fellow peers who may feel the pressing need to bother her while she’s in the middle of snaring the only thing she’s been able to think about lately.
Moira’s cool, collected. It takes a lot to make the woman sweat. You, however, are already squirming around in your seat. Her vibe is palpable, you can’t make heads nor tails of it. Your gaze darts to her lap when she cocks her head to the side, assessing you unlike any other specimen she has gotten her hands on. It’s a look that makes your spine tingle. Gives you an abysmal feeling, like you’re about to be taken down by a predator peeking from the tall grass.
“Alright.” Moira puts her holopad away. Her tall, slender legs easily allow her to stand gracefully from her stool. “Allow me to check your vitals first, then we’ll get started.”
Moira’s no medical professional, though she could be one if she found any real interest in the practice. Smart enough and educated enough as she is.
She takes an old-fashioned stethoscope from one of her many neatly organized drawers, an ear thermometer, and a blood pressure cuff.
“Why am I here today?” you ask nervously, such an easily spooked girl you are.  
…Because I want you here. I desire you unlike any other. Because my fantasies of you have kept me up at night. I can’t stand it any longer. I need to know how soft you are, what you smell like during the throws of passion, what your lips taste of.
“I have a mist that needs testing.” She walks over to you with the blood pressure cuff in hand. Gestures to your arm and you offer it up to her.
“Oh…” Moira catches the visible lump and hears your audible gulp.
“Never fear.” She rubs your thigh assuredly, lingering longer than what is appropriate. Goes back to gingerly wrapping the cuff around your arm. Presses a button and it begins to tighten. “It’s simply a new version of an already existing and thriving product.” She rolls her ‘r’ and it sends a cascade of tingles down your spine, causing you to shiver like a cold gust of wind had run through you.  
“Oh, okay.” Nothing about your tone says that you trust her reassurance. “Was it developed by you?”
Dumb question. Coming from you, Moira answers nicely. “Of course, who else?”
You shrug. Moira carries on. Noting that your blood pressure is a bit higher than it should be. It doesn’t take much to understand why. She stands close. And holds onto the back of your neck firmly in her hand, while she takes your temperature. Finds it to be satisfactory. She moves onto your heartbeat. By far her favorite part. Getting that near to your chest, makes her feel young again. Like a horny, immature teenager getting so very close to something that is titillating and intimate and secret. You’re obviously a person who feels your body is something to be covered, and not something that is shared with everyone. You refuse to even change in front of fellow agents in the locker rooms…
…It’s maddening.  
She’d know. On a day, about a month back, she looked forward to casually finishing her workout at the exact same time you finished yours. Casually she followed you into the locker room, hoping. Hoping to get a glimpse of the body she’s been building up in her dreams. Only for you to remove your things from your locker and head into a curtained shower to change. Leaving Moira disappointed and heartbroken, robbed of her chance to take in you in all your bared glory.
Moira slips into the neck of your t-shirt. Presses the cold round hearing piece against your equally as chilly skin. Goosebumps rise on her arms before she even hears your heartbeat, added icing on the cake. It’s hypnotizing, the steady drumbeat of your heart. She closes her eyes feeling her own heartbeat rise just as yours too picks up its pace.
“Moira?” you whisper, alarm apparent in your tone.
When she opens her eyes, she finds that she’s leaning for forehead against your temple. Her hand and slender fingers dancing along the line of your spine. The air in the room has become thick and stagnant. And the listening piece has drifted downwards, along with her hand that is still holding it. Her pinky grazes across your nipple, Moira’s core jumps at the contact.
You gaze up at her with glassy, fearful eyes. Cheeks painted a rich hue of red. Heart hammering away at your ribcage.  
Moira removes the stethoscope. “My apologies, my head took a sudden leave.”
Giggling nervously, you shift. Squeeze your thighs together and readjust your t-shirt attempting and failing to hide how hard your nipples are now. “That’s okay, it happens.”  
You’re perfect, despite the high blood pressure, and ready to get started. So is Moira, she softly claps her hands together. “Up on the examination table.” She points toward the usual room.  
You hop up. Follow Moira to a separated examination room within the lab. The walls are made of smart glass; will darken and make the room private upon request. Not something that should be necessary today. But most definitely has been helpful, and will continue to be so in the future.  
As you climb onto the examination table, you trip over the stirrups. Moira adjusts the back until it’s just shy of a ninety-degree angle.
“Comfortable?” Moira drawls.
You nod. “Yes, thank you.”
Moira leaves the room momentarily to retrieve the aforementioned mist from a securely locked holding cabinet. She may have told you a small fib. The mist is not new, nor recently re-engineered. No need to fix what isn’t broken. It’d be illegal, if it were to ever get to the government. The public’s opinion would be sour on it. Moira supplies it to clients mostly by word of mouth that runs rapid in the type of social groups this kind of mist is most popular in, with a substantial price tag.  
“Alright,” Moira says as she reenters the room. She pushes down on the cap, twists and the cap is released. “Take a few breaths in through your nose,” she commands, enjoying the way your chest rises as you breathe. Her adrenaline drip switches on as she hovers the bottle over your face. Heart racing. Can’t wait to witness the effects. She may be starting to sweat. “On a count of 3, take a big breath… 1… 2… 3…”
She pushes down on the nozzle. A dense mist escapes, blanketing your face as you inhale through your nose. Moira’s whisks her face away. Realizing that, in her excitement, she forgot to be thorough. With no mask on her face, she risks encountering some second-hand side effects.  
With the knowledge that the mist should be taking its course quickly, she recaps the bottle and stashes it away inside her lab coat pocket. She grips each of your legs individually, rolling her shoulders as she goes, fingers digging. Gradually she leans into your personal space, pupils blown. “Tell me,” she croons. “How are you feeling?”
You gulp, darling eyelashes fluttering as you try and remember how to speak. “Ah, um.” You lick your lips and now they’re shiny, and all Moira can stare at. “Hot… I feel hot…”  
Moira hums so low it sounds like a purr. “Tell me more. Be descriptive.”
“I—I… um…” You look down your body but struggle to get past the embarrassment of what’s happening to you there.  
“Don’t be shy.” She leans in more. Her hips wedge between your legs. The closer she gets, the farther your legs spread. “Remember, I’m a professional.”
You grasp onto her coat as she aligns her crotch with your own and presses firmly. You throw your head back, gasping for air. Hips rolling into her own. Not even aware of it. “Oh God, I’m so hot,” you whine pitifully.  
“Allow me to help you with that.” Moira snakes her hands under your shirt. Follows the unique curve of your hips all the way up into your waist, eventually pulling your t-shirt over your head. All with you mewling with every inch of skin that she caressed. She steps back, in order to rid you of your shoes and leggings. Stumbles over her own foot, the misstep making her realize just how much her head is spinning. Just…
…Look at you. Already living up to and far beyond her fantasies. Cold sweat trickling down your temples. Looking at Moira with two of the prettiest fuck-me eyes she’s ever seen. You can’t seem to stop biting your lips, so they’re starting to swell; two puffy kissable buds. Dainty hands opening and closing, searching for anything they can cling to. Hips, on the constant move.
“Exquisite,” she purrs.  
Your underwear is nothing special. A run of the mill bra with sensible multicolored cotton panties. But oh– are those panties soaked and is that bra just a tug away from revealing the heaving breasts beneath it.
Nestled back in between your legs, Moira throws off her lab coat, and drapes herself over your smaller stature, completely engulfing you. You cling to her, desperately wanting her weight and her warmth to envelop you. Thinks on saying something that will keep up the façade, but decides that the situation is well beyond pretending now. Instead, Moira decides to give that busy mouth some attention. Licking, biting, gasping, leaving it wide open— baby girl clearly has an oral fixation.
Slowly she feeds you her fingers. You close your lips around them, sucking while Moira moves them in and out languidly. She dives in a little deeper, causing you to gag. But with the gag, comes a full body moan. So, Moira keeps on doing it. You close your eyes, really getting into it. Cradling and curling your tongue around her fingers. Eagerly take another finger into your mouth. It stretches your mouth open in a lewd way and gives Moira’s core something more to get jumpy about.    
The sight is lovely and the sounds you’re making are musical, but she needs to taste that slutty mouth. She slowly removes her fingers, trailing lines of saliva down your chin and down into your neck where she holds you down. When she kisses you, it’s consuming and a lot all at once. But it is just what you need right now. Tender pecks wouldn’t be satisfactory to you, something she can heap upon you later. Here and now, she invades your mouth with both her own moans of pleasure and her long, skilled tongue. Sucking and nipping at your lips that are so clearly unused to having so much devotion.
Still holding your neck firmly, Moira slips her other arm between you. Down into your underwear, flooded with your arousal. You stop kissing her, but that doesn’t mean she stops kissing you. Your breath stolen away by how relieving Moira’s touch is, simply resting on top your engorged clit. Your eyes glaze over with an impeccable stupefied sheen. She rolls her fingers over your highly sensitive nub, as you seize up, latching onto her shirt dangerously tight. Seems pop, she swears she hears something tear.
When you finally get your breath back, your ministrations are weak to the ears but consistent. A small choked whimper with every breath. A few curses sprinkled in between your attempts to keep kissing her back. The overwhelming sensations take you away every time, and even manage to steal your lips away from her. You throw your head back, hands lurching to grasp onto the sides of the examination chair, back arching more than it ever has.
A problem, with a simple solution. She’ll just have to ravish your neck then.
“I’m gonna—” You stop to catch your breath. “I’m gonna cum!”
“Go on then,” she states coolly. Moira latches onto your neck, treating the soft skin there just as rudely as she did your delicate lips, and rubs your clit with new vigor.
You go silent for a moment before it all hits you at once. An orgasm that you feel all the way from the top of your head to your curling toes. Unable to comprehend that you are experiencing the best orgasm you’ve ever had. All consuming pleasure that leaves your body weak. Complete satisfaction takes over for a blissful, precious few moments where you can catch your breath and maybe have a chance to think a little clearer. But it’s gone in a flash, all that agonizing want and desire comes back full force. And your body is in desperate carnal need once again.        
Once your body stops writhing, Moira rears back. Somewhere amidst all the commotion, your bra straps fell to the wayside. She grabs it at the middle and gives it a good tug. It slips down with no problem, exposing your breasts to Moira’s mercy. You will be leaving this room with both your nipples thoroughly abused and your breasts marked. She must know, if, in your current state, she can make you cum, simply by overstimulating them. But… for now… she has other curiosities that are pressing.
Moira leaves you for a moment. Having a destination, a… drawer in mind. But needs to take a moment just to fall back against the counter, housing said drawer, so she can shove her hand into her own underwear, and give her throbbing clit some of the attention it’s been urgently screaming out for. You pout when you see it, jealous of the attention you’re not getting.    
Moira nods towards your crotch. “Don’t leave yourself wanting.”
Your eyes light up, suddenly remembering that touching yourself is a thing. Immediately you dive between your thighs. Rub your clit and grasp onto a breast. Groping the meat of it and tweaking your nipple rudely.
“Look at me,” Moira demands. The way you snap to her attention does something to make her weak in the knees. Your eyes were trained on your own nipple rolling between your fingers. As nice as that is, she wants to look you in your eyes while she gets herself off.
It happens for her faster than it typically would. It must either be you, or she got a small dose of that mist. She clings to the counter for purchase, leans all her weight back into it as her knees threaten to buckle. She moans lowly, falling silent in the moment when the pleasure crashing through her is too much for her to be able to breathe at the same time. “Yess,” she hisses, as the intensity in her body starts to dissipate. She milks her orgasm of every last little pang and shock it had left, softly rubbing until she was finally satisfied. Removing her hand for her underwear, she spins around, leaving her pants undone and hooks a finger under the handle of the drawer she had in mind.      
“How long does this… this…” You gasp, struggling to find a word to describe what is happening to you. Sex mist, plain and simple. The best on the market. “…Mist usually last?”
Moira’s taken aback. You managed to form a coherent sentence. Shocking. “The effects typically wear off within 4 to 6 hours.”
“Oh my God,” you gasp.
“Don’t worry,” Moira assures as she pulls open the drawer she had in mind, it slides open smoothly. Neatly lined from front to back with medical grade dildoes of various sizes. She ponders on which one she should use on you. Looks back and once again lays eyes upon your dripping cunt, turns her attention back to the drawer and grabs, not the biggest one, but one that would still be described as “huge”. She grasps it at the base, takes it out, and shoves her hips against the drawer to shut it. Showing you what she has in store for you she croons, “I’m here for you, acushla~”
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rookie-ramsey · 6 years ago
Text
Worth Any Risk, chapter 2
Description: Shortly after Ethan’s return to Edenbrook, he tries to pick up where he left off as if nothing happened. When MC becomes gravely ill, he is reminded that there some things worth any risk.
My MC is named Olivia House.
The next two hours passed in quiet boredom. Ethan thumbed through a medical magazine, only half-interested. Next to him, Olivia napped peacefully.
He glanced from his magazine when he felt Olivia’s head rest against his shoulder. She was still asleep, oblivious to her actions. His heart stuttered at her peaceful expression, her lips curved into a pout.
Ethan suppressed a sigh. This wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to have feelings for his intern. He needed to be her mentor, pushing her to her potential as a doctor. And if he had learned anything in his career, it was that romantic relationships inevitably complicated interactions in the workplace.
Why she reciprocated his feelings, he didn’t know. Even when he walked out of Edenbrook without a wave farewell, she didn’t give up on him. (She gave him an earful he would never forget, but that was in the past.)
Inhaling sharply, he returned his attention to his reading, holding still so as to not disturb her sleep.
When Olivia awoke, she yawned and blinked. Realizing her head was on his shoulder, she straightened up and hoped she wasn’t blushing.
“How long have we been flying?”
Ethan checked his watch. “Three hours down, seventeen to go.”
“Joys of flying around the world.” Olivia put her jacket on and positioned her seat upright.
“I already ate lunch. The flight attendant should be back soon if you want to order anything.”
“I’m fine. As much as I’d like to get more expensive food out of this trip, I’m not very hungry.” She stifled a yawn. “I could use about twenty more naps, though. Maybe even an extra day off when we land?”
Ethan chuckled. “Nice try, Rookie.”
“I thought so.” Olivia sat up straighter and absently rubbed her temples.
The gesture did not pass unnoticed. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache.” She rummaged through her purse and found a small bottle of Tylenol. She opened her water bottle and washed down two tablets.
Ethan didn’t miss the way she tightened her jacket as she leaned back into her seat. “You might be coming down with something. It isn’t cold.”
Olivia huffed stubbornly. “Are you a doctor or something?”
He snorted. “Doctors get sick, too. We make the worst patients because we think we’re immune.”
“Maybe.” Olivia perused the lunch menu. When their attendant passed, she ordered a Reuben for lunch.
“Make that two, please,” Ethan added. Their attendant nodded, soon returning with their meal.
A few bites into her sandwich, Olivia felt a twinge in her stomach. Full already, she set her plate aside and sipped her water. “I actually may have picked up something. I’m going back to sleep.”
Concerned, Ethan eyed her closely. “Alright. Let me know how you feel later.”
“Okay. I’ll try to give you a heads up if I think I’m going to projectile vomit.”
“I appreciate that.”
Olivia closed her eyes again, this time deliberately resting her head against his shoulder. Ethan glanced at her with surprise but didn’t move.
Ultimately, Ethan chose to take a nap as well. He was never one to sleep well on flights, so he was awake again within a couple of hours. Olivia still slept, slouched against him.
He frowned when he felt her shiver despite her jacket. He had shed his sweater long ago and felt comfortable, even warm. Worried, he pressed the back of his hand to Olivia’s forehead. Feeling warmth, he frowned deeper. She had taken Tylenol recently enough that her temperature shouldn’t have risen.
“Olivia.” He gently nudged her. “I need you to wake up for a minute.”
Groaning, she blinked, frowning unhappily. “What’d you do that for?” she grumbled, shivering again.
“You’re sick.”
She huffed in annoyance. “I know. I did go to medical school.” Wincing, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“I want to check your temperature.” Ethan always kept the bare necessities in his carry-on, so he handed Olivia a thermometer. To satisfy him, Olivia placed it under her tongue and kept her mouth shut until it emitted a series of rapid beeps.
“101,” she read when she took it out of her mouth. “I guess I picked up the flu in Auckland.”
“Possibly, but I’m keeping an eye on you.” Ethan handed her his sweater. Immediately she put it on, wrapping it tightly around herself. It smelled warm and familiar, making her close her eyes and resist a sigh of contentment. She was tall herself, but the sweater nearly swallowed her, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips.
Adjusting the angle of her seat, Olivia curled up in an attempt to make herself more comfortable.
This time, sleep didn’t come easily.
Chapter 3
Tags: @isabella-choices​ @peekaboochu @foulcroissantknightpalace @teamdrake27 @edgiestwinter @peekaboochu @isabella-choices
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