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#shell-less egg
I went to count chickens & do final egg check around dusk, and it's been rainy all day so it was especially dim. So I'm putting my hands in nest boxes, and I feel. Not. Eggshell. Where it sure looked like Egg should be.
It turned out to be one of those shell-less eggs, just a hiccup in a hen's egg-construction system, something that happens sometimes. But that was unsettling to put my hand on, when I expected a very different feeling.
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kedreeva · 3 months
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There's some dude (derogatory) on FB who is PISSED people are pricing their farm fresh eggs at $2 and $3 a dozen instead of $4+, saying it's "disrespectful" and "undignified" and "I'm trying to feed my kids" like Sir, you are on a Facebook group page bitching about your neighbors egg prices because your pet chickens aren't earning you a living wage and you think it's your neighbors' fault, you do not have a leg to stand on here wrt dignity.
Also half the answers are like "I give them to friends and family free" or "I donate them to food banks" or "I'm making them affordable to folks who might not otherwise be able to get them now that they're so expensive in the store" and "if you think you're going to turn a profit keeping backyard chickens you have been wildly misled" and so on, and so forth, and I'm so living for it.
and I can tell you right now, he did NOT like my answer of "if you're trying to feed your kids, I hear eggs are edible."
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jensownzoo · 5 months
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The two pullets who were laying are starting to taper off as expected as we approach winter. Haven't gotten any eggs for a few days and today there was this one:
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Yeah, she missed a step. Got the insides and the membranes, got the final color coat, forgot the shell...
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gemwel · 1 year
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Sometimes your chickens give you something weird, like this shell-less egg. The hen that laid it usually has green-shelled eggs.
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riggedbones · 11 months
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i think everyone needs to know about argonauts (creature) like what if there was an octopus reinvented shells after completely losing them. and its a real beast out there in the ocean. nature is beautiful
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xiaofiaan · 1 year
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sometimes i say something that's like. completely normal for me something that makes sense to Me and I know and yet i forget that like. people don't understand me that way. very few can. idk idk i just hate getting stared at like I'm suddenly someone to be scared of
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I need the characters I create to stop being smarter than me so I don't have to research things all the time to write dialogue
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1st-worldsaver · 1 year
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Do you not put salt in your water when making pasta?
It may seem like a crime against humanity to many, but I do not. I am cheap and will salt the pasta after it's cooked
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just straight up laid a yolk
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gelastocoridae · 8 months
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*SIGHHHH* I should have known better than to give my finches a nest to play with, unsupervised.
So
I put my finch Parsley in my smaller cage because he was still recovering from his cat attack, needed to regain stamina n strength before going back to aviary.
And because he needed company I put his ornery brother Foxglove in there with him to return the favor from when he had sprained his leg and needed a recovery space.
And I added their auntie (adoptive) Lupine because she was getting her tail feathers plucked bloody and naked so her bullies (I still cannot figure out WHO because Parsley and a random three of his sisters also have plucked butts) had just started plucking her chest as well.
And because an odd bird out would just continue to be bullied, I added one tail-less sister, Snapdragon, because she's the smartest and least likely to get stressed by me constantly checking on Parsley and Lupine's injuries.
And I gave them a nest and hay to have a constructive activity without too much crowding, so they wouldn't get bored and their tails could grow back.
And this was fine. The kids know they're too closely related to breed and Lupine always rejected their dad and wasn't interested in the boys whatsoever. Their tails have grown back, Parsley is fully recovered, and they were so happily snuggling up in their nest at bedtime. I was planning to return them to aviary this week, maybe swap out some tail-less kids to pinpoint the bully.
IT WAS FINE.
EXCEPT SOMEONE DECIDED THEY MIGHT LAY EGGS ANYWAYS AND NOT TELL ME ABOUT IT
HOW DO I FIND OUT??
I come home after a weekend away and a full day of work, and SNAPDRAGON, my brilliant child, randomly SHRIEKS AND CHASES THE OTHERS AWAY FROM THE NEST LIKE A BAT OUTTA HELL. I grab her to see what's wrong - is she hurt or does she need time out?? NO!!
THERE ARE FIVE EGGS IN THE NEST SHE IS GUARDING. FIVE. THEY ONLY LAY ONE PER DAY. THEY HAVE ALL BEEN HIDING EGGS FROM ME FOR AT LEAST FIVE DAYS.
Ok, ok, I say. This is fine. Maybe Snap (and/or Lupine) decided the nest was too good to waste and she really wanted to Brood™ so she laid some eggs on her own. There's no way they're fertilized. They can sit on them until they're bored so they don't lay more. It'll be fine.
EXCEPT IT WONT.
SINCE THERE ARE SO MANY I DECIDE TO CANDLE THE EGGS TO BE SURE THEYRE EMPTY, AND WHAT DO I FIND OUT???
THEY ARE NOT EMPTY!! One has died early but THREE ARE STILL DEVELOPING! AND THAT'S NOT ALL FOLKS!!
NOT ONLY ARE THEY FERTILE, THEY ARE PACKED FULL!! THE FIRST COULD LITERALLY HATCH AT ANY TIME NOW!!!
I LOOK AT MY BIRDS, CAREFULLY CHOSEN. SOMEONE GOT NASTY AND ALL OF THEM HID THE EVIDENCE FOR AT LEAST 13 DAYS. IT ISN'T SNAP BECAUSE HER BROTHERS DISGUST HER. IT ISN'T PARSLEY BECAUSE HE ONLY SINGS TO GET MY ATTENTION.
SO
THE BOY WHO NEVER SHUTS UP, THE ONE WITH THE VOICE CRACK, FOXGLOVE, SHOOK HIS ASS AT LUPINE AND SHE SAID YES??? TO THE ONE BOY WHO LOOKS LIKE HIS DAD FROM WHOM SHE RUNS??? FOR FIVE EGGS?????
AND SNAP IS GETTING POSSESSIVE OVER THEM??????? WHAT DOES SHE KNOW THAT I DONT?!
Lord help me, 4 birds was fine to begin with and then they had 7 babies, and then 11 birds was enough... I can't just toss these eggs, now. What am I gonna do with 14 birds ;;
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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How would Monster!König act his his mate had a miscarriage (or something like a miscarriage) with their eggs? Like he goes to check on them one day and they’re curled up in the nest with blood all between their legs and they look sick. I feel like he’d become super protective of them and caring and somehow feel like it was his fault.
CW: Miscarriages Konig isn't too surprised at first - after all, he wouldn't even care about his children if it weren't for his biological need to dump his eggs somewhere. He wouldn't even notice, honestly, his care for the eggs stops the moment he releases them...he does care about you. At least. Somewhat. Kinda. You feel the pain growing somewhere deep in you, you see the blood and discarded, crushed slimy "shells" of eggs slowly moving out of your aching pussy. You cry, you yelp, you beg for the monsters stationed to look after you not to call Konig because you're sure he is going to kill you when he finds out you weren't able to carry his eggs to term - you are terrified of the thought of him dropping you, discarding you like a used toy. Konig is...soft when he finds out. He couldn't care less about the eggs, but he does care that his wife, his favorite little pet, his perfect(not anymore, well) incubator being so stressed out and in so much pain - either real or phantom one. He calls for the human vet as fast as possible, cradling you in his arms while you cry and beg for him to not throw you away, to let you try one more time, to just give you one more chance. It's the first time he actually had to confront his feelings with you verbally - usually, it's enough for him to just give you things or do things for you, without the vulnerability and the horrors of being perceived by his precious little mate. Now, he has to express his feelings for you - he whispers that it's okay, you didn't fail him, you can still be his mate, he will just have to take extra good care of you. He doesn't feel like it's his fault, but he tries his best to be as soft with you as possible, without even calling you mean names for at least two weeks!
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sinizade · 4 months
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Imagine the surprise of waking up one day in Water Deep and discovering that the egg you promised to protect has simply hatched? Gale could hardly believe that he had become a father and Qih'Za didn't even know what it meant. They were difficult days with many hard things to do, but they both managed to learn together what it's like to be good parents.
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Jaitre Dekarios, a little girl with few words, almost always serious (except with her father who always makes her smile). She likes shells and wants to become an aquatic elf when she grows up, she has incredible speed and reflexes that are always further exploited by Qih'Za to make her daughter strong and able to defend herself when she needs to. Her knowledge of Githyanki culture only comes from what her mother explains, even though Qih'Za has a lot of respect and love for the place she comes from, she is happy to be able to see her daughter grow up in a less hostile place, grow up in a different place where Qih'Za grew up...
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notmyneighbor · 11 days
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 10
Word Count ~ 5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ fluff and smut
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant
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Monday morning comes all too soon.
You’d stayed up later than you’d intended. Talking about the wedding. You’d agreed on an outdoor ceremony. To be held in late autumn, maybe. Still nothing definite. Baby names. This still unresolved. You think you’d fallen asleep mid debate.
Your doppelgänger has to get up even earlier on mornings when he stays at the farmhouse.
He’s insisted you sleep in before but you never do. You don’t want to miss any time being with him. It was worth missing sleep. Maybe you’d have matching shadows under your eyes.
You smile sleepily at him. It’s still dark but you can sense he’s awake, looking at you. You reach blindly for his face. He turns it, kissing your palm, his hand covering yours.
“I love you,” you greet him. You can’t say it enough.
“I love you, too.” A little regretful sigh before leaving the bed. The sounds of him getting ready in the bathroom, less obvious as you make your way downstairs and get coffee going. The sky is gradually lightening now. You can see some small wild brown rabbits through the kitchen window, rummaging near the bushes for breakfast before heading back to the burrow. You watch them scamper and forage while you prepare your own breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast to accompany the coffee.
An arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you backwards. You can smell soap and shampoo and aftershave. He’s gotten better at the routine. Getting ready faster. Or maybe just rushing to steal a few more of these moments with you.
You lean against the doppelgänger, your head dropping back as his lips find your neck, then brush the shell of your ear. The smell of the coffee and cooked food permeates the kitchen. Warm kisses before the warm liquid slips down your throat after your first caffeinated sip.
The same words are spoken each morning before he steps into the delivery truck. I love you. Be safe.
The familiar ache is present before he’s even left the driveway. You miss him already. You worry for him. The rising sun kisses the dew on the lawn. You wrap your bathrobe tighter around your waist and head back up the steps of the porch.
***
Today is the day you’re introducing your fiancé to your parents.
You’re not sure which of you is more nervous as you drive to their house.
“What if your father says I can’t marry you?” Francis’ copy inquires anxiously, not for the first time, his fingers twisting restlessly in his lap until you reach for his hand, clutching it tightly.
“He won’t. I told you, it’s just a formality. A cultural politeness,” you reassure him. Still unsure of how this meeting is going to go. You’re going to be lying to your parents, after all. Telling them you’re marrying a human resident of the building you guard, knowing full well he’s really an alien. “We’ll get through this, love. Last thing before we move in together.”
A crooked little smile at this reminder. Still nervous. Your mouth brushes his knuckles before you return your attention to the road. Not as much traffic on a weekend morning.
“I’m surprised they don’t live in the building you work at.”
“There weren’t any vacancies or else they might have. There’s quite a waiting list to get into a DDD guarded building.”
“Meaning my apartment will be in demand once I move out.”
“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ll missing seeing you there. But then, I’ll have you at home, so, it’s a fair trade off.”
“Making you get up extra early five days a week.”
“Worth it.”
Another smile, this one sturdier. He was relaxing a little. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You’ve arrived at your destination. A brick and mortar home close to downtown. The narrow strip of lawn immaculately kept. Window boxes full of flowers. Your mother is watching your approach through the screen door, unable to wait any longer, hurrying down the trio of cement stairs and wrapping her arms around you. It had been several months since your last visit. You really should come more often.
Maybe you would, now. With a grandchild in tow, one day.
She steps back to inspect you. Looking you over, making sure you were healthy, eating properly. Remarking on the color in your cheeks which only heightens it further. You introduce your partner to her, noticing your father still hovering in the background, near the stairs.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Francis’ copy closes the distance and holds out a hand and you beam with pride. You’d rehearsed this. Your dad looks stern, but that’s just his way. He accepts the offering, his eyes boring into your fiancé’s. Did he suspect? He couldn’t possibly.
“Well, come on in. We’ve got lunch ready for you,” he invites, and you sigh inwardly with relief. So far, so good.
“Your young man is so handsome,” your mother murmurs as you ascend the stairs. You nod, holding the door open for her. You can hear your beau talking to your father in the dining room. Your dad was definitely a sports fan, and you knew for a fact neither Francis nor his doppel followed any pastimes. Hopefully they’d found some neutral pleasantries to converse about.
“Let me help you in the kitchen, Mom.” She accepts, leading you into the room. Smaller than your own, necessary with these inner city dwellings. Everything was more compact. Efficient. “New wallpaper?” You observe, noting the previous floral pattern has been exchanged for a linear print.
“Yes, last month. Very contemporary.” You grab a pair of potholders and remove a casserole from the oven while she begins unloading side dishes onto the plates.
“That’s a lovely ring, dear. He must have saved up quite a lot for that.”
“Yes, it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You pause to admire the engagement solitaire you’re wearing. “Francis always lived quite frugally. Lives quite frugally,” you correct hurriedly.
“Well, nothing wrong with being sensible when it comes to finances. Your father will appreciate that sentiment.”
“Do you think they’re okay in there?” You gaze in the direction of the open doorway that leads to the dining room. You still can’t quite make out what they’re saying.
“Oh, I’m sure your Francis is doing just fine. Don’t worry.”
You finish helping her fill the plates and then lift two, carrying them into the other room. Your father is seated directly across from your fiancé. Talking about the apartments. News. The war effort. You dart an anxious glance at the doppel but he’s doing well, keeping his voice neutral, answering everything politely. You can tell he’s relieved to see you, though, the second you enter the room his eyes lighting on yours.
“Here we are. Now, Francis—do you go by Francis? Not Frank, or…?”
“Francis is fine, ma’am.”
“Francis, we’re not shy about eating a good meal. There are seconds if you want them, just ask.”
“Thank you.”
You sit next to your doppel and your mother settles across from you. “Um, before we dig in, Francis would like to say Grace.” Your parents weren’t devout, but they respected the faith well enough. It had been a constant practice before every meal you’d sat down to with the milkman’s copy.
“Oh, certainly.” Your mother bows her head, and you see a faint flicker of something—maybe approval?—in your father’s eyes before he follows suit.
The simple prayer completed, you find yourself demolishing the contents on your plate with enthusiasm. Nothing ever beats your mother’s cooking. You’ve missed it.
The conversation flows well, with only a few pauses here and there. You appreciate the fact that your mother keeps drawing the invader back into the discussion, making sure he feels involved, a welcome participant.
Your father is still a little reserved, much of the communication done with his eyes. Intently regarding your beau. Studying him. You abandon the napkin draped on your lap and reach for the pretender’s thigh to reassure him, squeezing lightly. He squeezes your hand back.
By the time dessert arrives—you’re suddenly wishing you hadn’t stuffed yourself quite so full, you should have left room, because who could say no to homemade apple pie?—you can see your fiancé is anxious to ask the question he’s wanted to all along, shifting a little restlessly in his seat, the fork sinking into the sugared crust forgotten.
“Sir, I’d like to ask your permission for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
The room goes quiet, the movement of cutlery on porcelain still. “You’re going to provide for my girl?”
“Yes, sir.”
“She’s special. She deserves the best.”
“I agree. I swear to you I will do everything in my power to care for her and make her happy.”
Another pause. You’re holding your breath. Your mother is staring at your father, worrying her bottom lip.
“Well, I can’t ask for more than that. You have my permission.”
A collective sigh of relief from the guests at the table. Your mother’s hands clasp, her eyes shining. You press your lips against the doppel’s shoulder. He’d passed. You’d done it. You manage to clear your plate, offering to help your mother with the dishes.
“I like your Francis. He’s a fine young man. Respectful. Hard working. Maybe a little too hard working. The boy looks a little in want of sleep. Or is that your doing?”
“Mom!” You gasp, and she nudges your arm.
“I’m only teasing. But he’s a good man. He’s got your father’s approval, and you know that isn’t easy. Have you thought about a date yet?”
“We were actually thinking about the fall.”
“This fall? 1955?”
“Yes.” You finish lathering a plate with soap and rinse it, setting it on the rack to dry.
“That’s a little soon. You’re not…you know…”
“No, Mom. Not yet.”
“You know I’ve been wanting grandchildren. I know your career is important to you, but you should indulge in a domestic life. Stay home and raise a family. It would make me feel better not having you facing those horrible doppels day in and day out.”
“I want to help people, Mom. So others can have that kind of life. But I would take time off for a baby.”
“Only one?”
“Francis wants several.”
“I wish your father had,” she mutters, the dish sponge squeaking against the inside of a glass. “I’m with your young man on this. The more the merrier, provided you’re doing alright financially. Fill the house, dear. You won’t regret it. It will be the happiest time of your life.” She kisses your cheek. “That’s the last of the dishes. Let’s go find out what our men are up to.”
Your men, as it turns out, are outside in the front yard. Your father sounded like he was giving tips on lawn care. Poor Francis.
“Hey.” You slide your arm through the doppel’s, coming to your fiancé’s rescue. “We’re all done in the kitchen, if you’re ready to head out.”
He nods, shaking your father’s hand, then returning the hug your mother offers before heading to the car. You embrace your parents again, your mother already on her way back inside after bidding you farewell while your father lingers by your side.
“You like him, Dad?”
“He’s different, that one. Something about him…”
A little surge of alarm runs through you. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Just something,” he murmurs thoughtfully, then shakes himself. “One thing’s for certain, though: he’s crazy about you.”
“He is, Dad. And I feel the same way about him.”
“Keep us posted when you set a date. You be careful with those doppels.” His lips graze your forehead and then he retreats indoors.
You settle behind the wheel, glancing over at your fiancé. “What do you think?”
“I think that was stressful, but overall it went well. What did your father say to you just now?”
“That he could see you’re crazy about me.” You lean over and kiss him. “Want to go home and celebrate?”
“Yes. Maybe wait a bit, though. That was a lot of food.”
“My mom always fills the plates like that,” you agree, starting the engine. “You did great today. I’m really proud of you. Really happy.”
“I’m glad, sweet girl. Me too.”
“Okay. Let’s go home.”
***
There’s an advertisement for an event the following weekend sitting on the kitchen table.
The paper had been folded and tucked into the doppel’s work pants, retrieved when you’d been gathering a load of laundry together.
“I forgot about that,” he murmurs apologetically, kissing the patch of skin behind your ear, making you shiver. “It’s a dance. I didn’t know if you wanted to go. Someone on my route gave it to me.”
Social gatherings were few and far between. Dangerous, these days. You generally avoided them.
It’s tempting, though. You’re conflicted again. Wanting to go out with your beau, being afraid of discovery.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do you have to do the washing right now, or can we…?”
“We can.” You set the basket down and turn in his arms. His hands slide down your back, then shift to stroke over your hips.
“My beautiful girl.” His lips touch yours.
“My handsome doppel.” You return the gesture, your fingers carding through the hair curling at the nape of his neck. He needed another trim.
“Come upstairs with me.”
You follow him eagerly. He pauses midway through unbuttoning his shirt to cup your face between his hands, kissing you. He’s forgotten to undo his shirt cuffs, the sleeves still clinging when he tries to shed the garment. You come to his rescue and he stops you for another kiss. Little by little the clothing piles onto the floor.
Neither of you has switched the bedside lamp on. It’s just the two of you in the darkness. The moon is hiding tonight.
“I love you so much,” he breathes into your ear as he enters you.
“I love you.” You wrap your legs around him tightly, rocking up against him. Gentle movements. Filling you. Withdrawing. Stretched again. Plunging deep. The place where he ends meeting the place where you begin.
“Is it wrong to pray? To ask for something, is it so different than the words we recite before meals, these ones from the heart, will He answer me, a monster…” He whispers against your skin, your hair, musings you’ve mulled over yourself, surely he deserved it, if any did, you know what he wants, what you want, too.
“Ask, love. Ask, I’ll ask too, Francis…”
“Please…” His hips drive against yours. Sheathed faster. Impaled and then not, in rapid succession. His mouth is rough on yours, sliding sloppily off the edges, words half uttered, some in that strange native language of his.
Inside. Pressure. Contractions. An echoing pulse. Liquid heat. Your nails digging into his shoulder. His teeth scraping your throat. Filling you. Breathless kisses before the calm.
***
You don’t typically make small talk with the residents.
There’s always a kind of tension between you, their fates resting in your hands. You were trained to be professionally detached, but that obviously had failed in Francis’ case. Still, you’re gradually warming up to some of the others. The happiness of your relationship making words tumble free easier. Today it is the physicist at your window, Dr. Afton. He adjusts his glasses with a long practiced gesture, shoving them back up the bridge of his nose as you examine his ID and entry request. He is listed for the day and everything checks out. A quick call to his fiancée confirms what you already know. He’s legit. The real deal.
“Have you and Mia set a date yet?” You slide his documents back towards him through the slot.
“Spring, I think. You and Francis?”
“Autumn, maybe.”
“So soon,” he murmurs. His eyes flick down for the briefest of moments and you don’t misunderstand the significance.
“Oh, no, I’m not…I mean, we’re trying, but…” You flush heavily as you stammer. Your attempt at small talk was seemingly backfiring. Maybe it was best to just keep things professional after all. “Anyway, have a good rest of your day.”
The doctor stands looking at you expectantly. “The door?” He prompts gently.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” You hastily operate the door controls and the man leaves the entryway.
Your next attendant makes your face break out in a grin. Your beau has returned.
The replicant milkman deposits his required documents into the slot, grinning back at you. There’s an extra slip of paper there, something torn off his delivery list on the clipboard, perhaps.
I love you
You mouth it back at him. He lays a hand on the window. You match your palm to his, dwarfed by the larger structure.
“How was your day?”
“I made an ass out of myself in front of Afton, but yeah, good. You?”
“Not bad. Can I come in?”
“Uh-huh.” You press the buzzer. Your fiancé doesn’t take the elevator like you’d expected, instead invading the security booth.
“Sir, this is for DDD staff only,” you mock protest.
“Does it count if I’m going to be married to a DDD staff member?”
“Mmm, I’m not sure.” You’re about to step closer to him when you hear someone entering the building. A middle aged man you don’t recognize wearing a suit. The same DDD enameled pin on his lapel. You hurriedly take the papers and ID he offers while the doppelgänger takes a step back, still out of view of the window, near the open doorway.
“I’ll need to call to verify your identity,” you remark. You don’t get visits from personnel other than the cleaners that often, and if you do, you usually get notified first. The man’s face is expressionless. He nods and you proceed, dialing the number of the headquarters.
“Good afternoon. I have someone here from the R&D department. I wasn’t expecting…I see. Alright. Yes, thank you.” You hang up the phone. “They’ve vouched for you. What brings you here today?”
“Something that will revolutionize the screening process, we’re hoping.” He sets a briefcase down on the narrow ledge of the counter, using a key on a cord around one wrist to unlock it before thumbing the latches and opening the case. He lifts an object and places it on the ledge before shutting and removing the briefcase. “This device here emits a frequency that the doppels can’t resist. It forces them to come out of hiding, as it were.”
“How do you know?” You can see your doppel’s body tense in your peripheral vision.
“Oh, a little project we’ve been working on. Sometimes the cleaners bring us gifts. We don’t always exterminate…but I suppose you wouldn’t know that, once the screen goes down. Well, in any case, they’ve made for good lab rats. It’s taken us awhile, but I think this just might be what we need to turn the tide and gain the upper hand.”
“You’ve been experimenting on them,” you whisper, unable to keep the revulsion and horror out of your voice.
“Why not? It’s not like they haven’t taken their own POWs from our side.”
The urge to glance at your fiancé to confirm the truth of this is overwhelming but you resist. “Why would they want to keep us prisoner?”
“I’m sure something unsavory. Food supply. Experiments. Who can say? Disgusting creatures. But I don’t need to tell you about that. You encounter them on a daily basis. A nearly perfect record too, I hear. Only one…mishap.” He grins. His teeth are yellow. You find yourself disliking the man more and more.
“No one was hurt,” you say defensively.
“Thank goodness. Now, to the task at hand. This device is extremely simple to use. It’s already calibrated to the correct frequency. No need to adjust. Simply flip the switch. Undetectable to human ears. But very effective for the doppels. They’ll reveal their true form within seconds. Then it’s just a matter of calling the disposal team. Just think of the applications this will have once this gets approved for mass production. No more fear of the unknown. No more doubts. The ultimate weapon of retaliation.”
Your stomach turns with every sentence he utters. There would be no hiding for Francis. For the baby you would one day conceive. All of the happiness you’d felt earlier evaporates. You grip the edge of the counter as he demonstrates the switch to turn the device on and activate the frequency.
You hear the creak of the wood when the doppelgänger grips the door frame.
“Yes, I see, easy to use. Better conserve the battery, right?” You finally surrender to the impulse to glance over at the invader. His chest is heaving, his teeth razor sharp. Bloodshot eyes that plead with you, the familiar shimmer outlining his true, hidden form appearing.
“That is one of the drawbacks, yes. We’re still working on a more reliable power source.” He flips the switch off and you can’t help but sigh loudly in relief. “I’ve been instructed to tell you that you’re to use it only in cases when there is any doubt. You’ll still be performing the standard screening procedures. But if this has the results that I expect it will, I’m certain this will become the new industry standard. And give us the advantage at last. I’ll be collecting this after a one week trial. I’ll have a questionnaire for you to fill out after you’ve tested it out.”
“Of course.” You plaster a smile on your features, willing the man to leave.
“Shall I bring it to you, or…?”
“No, company policy prohibits anyone from entering the booth that’s not authorized. Technically you haven’t been, so…”
“Quite right. Well, I leave it in your capable hands, then.” The briefcase in hand, he turns and exits the building.
You immediately turn to see Francis’ clone sweating profusely, still struggling to return to human form.
“Francis! Are you alright? Love, it’s okay, I’m here.” Your hands cup the intruder’s face, disregarding the dangerous rows of cuspids stretched wide, peering into the crimson streaked eyes.
He shudders, his hands—claws—closing over your wrists. You’ve never seen him have this much difficulty. What was that evil frequency the scientists had discovered?
“Francis, it’s me. Come back to me, love. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Another violent tremor. Then his grip on you lessens, his eyes clearing, the haze dissipating. The facial features rearrange to form the familiar ones of the milkman.
“Sweetheart,” he manages, his breathing still ragged.
“Yes, Francis. You’re okay.” You wrap your arms around him and he squeezes you tightly.
“The pain, love. You can’t imagine. We have to destroy that. We can’t…”
“We’ll think of something. Tamper with it. Lie about it’s effectiveness. I don’t know. Something.” As wondrous as it would be to have access to technology like that, you couldn’t risk its use for your doppel’s sake. For your future children’s. “I didn’t know they were experimenting on…is it true, what he said? Have the invaders been taking humans prisoner?”
He releases you. “Not my squadron, I promise you that. But yes. It’s true.” He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I said in the beginning I wanted to experiment…now, I would never condone…”
“I know. I know you.” You retrieve the device, deciding to store it in the lockbox under the desk for now. Francis’ doppel gives you a wide berth as you walk around the booth carrying it, backing away as you make the corner. “You should go upstairs and rest. My shift will be done soon.” He nods, still looking shaken. You embrace him again, watching as he steps onto the elevator, then your eyes flick to the lockbox.
A new complication that you didn’t need.
***
Francis Mosses’ apartment is silent that afternoon when you enter.
No record rotating on the player. No meal being prepared on the stove. There is just the doppel seated on the couch, the crocheted blanket draped over the cushions behind him. He hasn’t even removed his work uniform, except for the cap which is resting on the coffee table. He hadn’t locked the door or risen to greet you at it, his tired eyes shifting to watch as you sit next to him.
“Francis, are you feeling alright?” You’re wondering if the device didn’t have some lingering ill effects.
“Fatigued. I’ll be alright. I’m sorry I didn’t get the door for you. I’m still…” He holds out a hand that tremors as if with palsy. You’ve never seen him this ghostly pale.
“Do you have any appetite at all? Should I fix us something, or…?”
“Just stay with me, love.”
You snuggle closer to him, slipping off your shoes and drawing your knees up, tucking your stockinged feet to one side, your fingers stroking his forearm. You’re suddenly feeling tired yourself, the rush of adrenaline from earlier now leaving you feeling sapped of energy. There was a nice breeze coming in through the living room window. Your lover’s arm curls around you. You fall asleep.
It’s dark when you awaken.
You’re disoriented, blinking away the vestiges of a dream you don’t recall the details of. Francis’ doppel is cuddling you. Awake. You can tell by the rhythm of his breathing.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“We both needed the rest.” His lips press against your hair.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Physically, anyway. Mentally…I’m worried.”
“I know. Me too. We’ll figure something out, Francis.” You reach out blindly to find his hand. “Want to do something improper like skip to dessert and have cookies and milk in bed and forget everything for a bit?”
“Hmmm. Are you included in that menu?”
“I can be.”
“Then it’s a deal. Shower first?”
“Definitely.”
His lips touch your forehead. “You always make everything better.”
You’re more concerned than you’re letting on. But you don’t want to focus on that right now. You want the doppel to feel safe, secure. Enjoy the peace you’ve found together for tonight.
You feel him leaning away from you, reaching for the lamp. His condition does appear to have improved from earlier. Healthy color returned. Hands steady. You dig around in the drawer where you’ve stored some spare pajamas while he turns the shower on.
“Don’t fuss too much on what you’re wearing. It won’t be staying on.”
Oh, he was definitely feeling better. “Maybe I’ll just skip it entirely.”
“Now we’re talking.”
You strip off your work clothes, your fiancé already halfway undressed, finishing that task now and leading your into the deluge of warm water. You take a moment to soak your hair, then switch places so Francis’ copy can do the same.
You grab the bar of soap from the shallow ledge on the wall and begin lathering your hands together, working up a cloud of suds that you quickly smear across the cloned milkman’s chest. You take turns washing each other, hands lingering when they reach nipples, buttocks, between legs. You’re pushed gently back against the shower wall, the soap slipping from your grasp. The doppel cups his hands beneath the spray, splashing it over your body, making sure you’re rinsed, lifting one leg and guiding it to rest on the edge of the tub while he kneels down, blinking water out of his eyes, his damp fingers now working against your sex, followed by his tongue, sucking a mouthful of shower water and your clit in one go. You moan, raking your fingers through his damp dark hair, marveling at the feel of that frenzied muscle dividing your nether lips, plunging inside and then swirling around your clit.
You’re thinking of that alien cock of his, the one you’d mostly felt more than saw, and you suddenly crave the feeling of it again. You won’t dare ask him for that tonight, not after what had happened earlier when he’d been forced out of hiding, but another time, you want that in your mouth, back inside of you, fucking you missionary style, driving in deeply. You’re already swollen, dripping, that slick liquid thicker than the water pelting your bodies, a trail he follows with lips and tongue and even teeth, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thighs, the arc of one hip, the crest of your mound before he’s sucking your bud again. He’s leaning into you, offering you a chance to rest some of your body weight, the raised leg shaking as you find a swift release, bursting on his tongue, ripened hive spilling creamy honey before you’re rinsed clean.
He shuts the shower off and you’re barely swiped with a towel before he’s pushing you down into the bed, picking right up where he left off, sliding his erection into the place his tongue and fingers have just vacated.
“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me, I’ll do anything you want.”
Catering to you. You feel you should be the one making the offer. “I’m yours. I love everything with you. You decide. This is nice. This is…oh…good.” He’s picked up the pace, droplet covered hips kissing yours over and over. The shower water still clinging to him drips from his hair, splashing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. You think of kissing him that day it rained on your front porch, already falling so fast, so far, Francis the bridge but the doppel the destination, it didn’t feel wrong, it couldn’t, when it was like this between you.
“Sweet girl, you’re so perfect for me.” A word you don’t know, but the tone is in the same vein, affection, lust, breathed beside your cheek, moaned against your throat.
“I want to learn it. All of it. Starting with your name. I love you.” The words are pushed into the mouth that closes over yours, hot breath, that thick cock of his incessantly drumming inside of your womb. You’re lost in the dark of his eyes, in that blissful realm he drags you back into, your body shattering around him, milking him, urging to be mated, claimed, marked as his. He calls you something that sounds almost like wife and you nearly are, bonded to this foreigner that’s crossed galaxies and mapped stars to build a new universe within you, starting with this, that sowed seed, fingers interwoven, cock buried deep, face burrowed in the curve of neck damp from the strands of hair clinging there.
After there is cold milk from the fridge and chocolate chip cookies, melting sweet on your tongue as Francis’ doppel holds you against him, licking at the stray sweet granules clinging to your lips. “Your first lesson,” he begins, and it is him speaking now, the invader beneath, that deeper voice stirring interest in your loins again already, twice sated but still eager for more. “My name is…”
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oval3000 · 6 months
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Chapter 1
Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader
Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
(This story might suck idk)
-------------------------------------------------------
König felt three of the guards holding him down while one of the other nurses stuck a needle inside his arm. It took a while for it to work on him, but eventually he fell asleep.
The doctor infront of him, pressing his hands on the open wound of the other, unfortunate, nurse's neck trying to control the bleeding.
It was no use, the wound was deep the pressure barely hold the amount of blood she lost. It was honestly foolish of her. What did she think will happen? She kept rolling her eyes whenever König needed something. It was easy, she was sloppy, always leaves things unintended. It was time for a new nurse anyway all the other ones that come and go don't meet up to his standards.
The amount of nurses he has killed was all fun and games to him, but he got bored. Now it was anger that drives it. Before, he would play a game with them, he flirts to get them near him and it works until he chokes them with one hand or slits their throats with anything he can get his hands on or just simply slamming their heads to the wall. It was funny seeing them put up foam in the walls inside his room, it wasn't too long for them to realize it won't do anything when he smashed a guards head onto the floor and quickly stomped on it like it was nothing.
Bashing their heads to anything it's what got him here in the first place. Being in the military is something not everything can stand. For König it became a playground. Killing his enemies however he wanted. Breaking their heads, their necks, arms, legs, ankles, practically anything.
The amount of meetings the staff has to attend to acknowledge Königs behavior and how it's partially the staff's fault for being so careless. It was hilarious for him honestly. Having the entire building walking on egg shells around him. They don't know how to tame him, how to tame a monster who kills someone as if they are a cockroach
The only person that could possible get through his head is his psychiatrist. However his attempts to clear him backfires when König kills someone. At times the doctor is to frustrated that he gave up and he did, so he got a new psychiatrist.
He finds his new psychiatrist annoying. She puts other people's sceneries to get into his head to see what is wrong with him. Telling him that his suffering in the military is similar to a women going through a divorce. König could care less about her personal life or anyones.
She got up a left after his session while the guards took him to his room. The psychiatrist told the staff to give König his medication, but they all took a step back. She ask for his nurse, but they all stood quiet until one spoke up and said that König doesn't have a nurse, his last nurse died and it has been hard for them to find a new one.
She quickly made her way to the administrator's office and plead for a new nurse. The administrator told her no so she spread her legs and he quickly said yes. After all she didn't want to be the next victim of his so a nurse should do.
Then you came along. Sweet and innocent you. You took the job when you saw the job opening on their website and it was perfect timing. You just moved here and needed a job asap. After you graduated you worked at a hospital for a year until the bills and rent went up and the pay stayed low so when you found out that a facility needed a new nurse with triple the pay, you took it.
You waved at the receptionist hello while clutching the strap of your crossbody bag. "Hello, I'm looking for the administrator, I'm (Y/n). I'm the new Rn"
"Oh miss (Y/n)." He gave you a hesitant smile which caught you off guard, but you didn't think too much. I mean the receptionist has seen so many new nurses come in go fast, but you didn't need to know that, do you? "The administrator is waiting for you in his office."
"Okay thank you." You signal some confusion to the receptionist. "Um?"
"It's down to your right, left office." He said hand signaling the directions.
You gave him a smile and quickly headed to the office by giving a few knocks until you heard a male voice telling you to come in.
The men stood, shook your hand and told you that a fellow nurse was going to give you a rundown about how things work.
You followed the nurse has he took you to the floor you'll be working on. This will definitely be different then working at a hospital. He told you where the nurses station is and the name of the doctors that come to see the patients aswell as the patients themselves. However, your only worry is one patient in particular. König.
He showed you where his room. "This is where he stays. Now, you have to be careful with him. Can't turn your back on him. Don't leave anything near him and don't be near him in general."
'Don't be near him. How will you give his medication if you can't be near him'
"If you feel like your in danger, don't hesitate to scream for help, besides the door will always be open when you go in and two guards have to be with you at all times if you go inside his room. Don't make small talk to him, don't give him anything unless it has been confirmed with the heard nurse here. Which is me okay."
You nodded in understanding of the situation. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to a place away from everyone else. "Look I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like you deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, okay."
"Okay." You responded.
"The last few nurses that attended him always ended up getting killed by him. He is the reason why we always need a new nurse."
'So that's why the pay is higher'
"If you want to quit I don't blame you, but you should know what you're getting yourself into." He whispered to you.
Are you scared? I mean the fact that you can die is. Either stay and get paid or go back and be in debt, which one is better? "Thank you," you looked at his tag, "Jacob"
"No problem. Oh and Dr. Smith is his psychiatrist so whatever she tells you, you do. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she only comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays or if there is a tragic emergency."
You gave him one last okay before he went back to his computer. You looked around and saw how many guards there are in the floor. More guards than nurses.
You saw docotrs leaving the patients rooms, you strolled around getting to know the facility. You went to the locker room and quickly placed your bag inside while fixing your scrubs and your hair. You head your way the nurse's station ready to do what you need to do. They started you off by you giving medication and taking vitals to some patients, just for you to get the hang of it as well as report anything back to their medical files and re-learn how to work the system. Jacob gave you a little index card with the information you need about König. Mainly how to give his medication. As for needles, a guard has to hold him down.
"(Y/n)" Jacob called for in the desk area. You went up to him. "This will be your work space, you are in charge of these patients, which includes König." He showed you the list of patients which is not a few compared to others. "The biggest one is König, which is why you don't have a much. All their routines are the same. Sometimes the patient will call out for you."
"How?" Not like they have a control to call for assistance.
"A guard will come and tell you. Everything else is pretty straight forward all of their medical history is in their charts aswell as their medication and their dose. They all share the same doctor who comes by every few months, unless they need medical attention. You get the gist right?"
"Yes." You said staring at the computer screen.
"Good. All the medical supplies are back here." He pointed to the big beige cabinet that is behind you. "And obviously the patients medication are in their and here are the keys." You looked at what the computer was placed, a big drawer each with a key hole and a sticker of the patients name on each one. "If you have any question, feel free to ask me."
You nodded and did what you are paid to do. You quickly got the hang of things. Lunch came in quick as you saw the kitchen staff making their way to the dining room area. The guards went in took all patients to the area ready for them to eat. They two went in and brought out König. He was wearing the usual white t-shirt with the white sweatpants. Part of his hair was tied back into a low ponytail while the rest hanged loosely to his face. He doesn't have long hair, but not short either. He turned his head towards you. You can see his eyes as they stared at you.
König didn't smile, didn't frown. He was intrigued.
You looked back into the computer and quickly pulled up his file. Ex- Military, age to be around 40. Austrian. Can speak German. Suffers from severe social anxiety. Blood type AB. Activities in the facility- arts and crafts. Suffered from multiple injuries during his deployment. History of broken arm, leg, stab wounds.
'Ex- Military. No wonder.'
After lunch it was time to give them their meds. You went to do your round, checking their vitals and giving them their medication. You made your way towards König's room. The two guards opened the door widley while one entered in. König saw you as he sat on his bed legs slightly spread open while his triceps rested on his things. His head hanged low but peaked up when you entered.
You took out the aneroid Sphygmomanometer. You made your way towards him. Already doing something they warned you about. His eye sight followed your figure. You were too nervous to look at his face. If you don't look at him then nothing bad will happen. König stared at you as you place opened the cuff and wanting to place it on his bicep. You were honestly doubting that the cuff was going to fit around his bicep, compared to yours it was like comparing a mountain vs a sand castle.
He moved his bicep slightly up for you too take a better look. The guards gave eachother looks as if he never done this before. You wrapped the cuff around his bicep, not wrapping too tight. You felt bicep, they're hard. Hard as a rock. You pressed on the little latex bulb, giving it a few squeeze while checking the gaudge. When you got the results, you wrote it down quickly.
As for König, he didn't do anything, he just watched. He watched as you came near him. To check his tempt, his heart rate. He saw you bringing the little Dixie cup with his medication. He felt the guards stiffen knowing this is the part where he will either snap your neck or crack your skull open with ease.
You placed the cup on to the little table you have to take with you with all the supplies you need and rolled it near him. Your guess is that he snaps when someone wants to drug him. Ex- Military, you won't be surprised he they forced him to take some sort of drugs while fighting off his enemies. "It's okay. This one is to calm your nerves, I know they can hard to deal with. Trust me I know. I'll give you the one that will help you sleep at night so you can't get comfortable."
He took the cup and threw the pill inside his mouth, quickly swallowing it. The little cup is so tiny compared to his hands you couldn't even see the cup. He placed the cup back onto the table. "Thank you." You said to him while walking out of his room. As soon as you heard the guards shutting the door you felt the nervousness leaving your body.
König laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt a smile on his face.
He haven't felt this way in a long time. Quite frankly never.
You are definitely getting in his interest.
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anauwhere · 2 years
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When I first joined a fandom on tumble in 2013-14 it felt very different from now. Not because of antis and dni and minors vs adults bc on a minor scale there still were differences. It felt more inclusive, more like a community, a small family and the interactions were larger. Now I see a lot of mutual culture and "I only follow other cc" and rude answers to anons and policing tags and whenever someone is new is ignored. People fear interaction or some blogs decide if a fandom is more gift oriented or shit post or discourse like it's a hive mind big blog. Paradoxically I see more community on twitter and it's pretty sad
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amnhnyc · 4 months
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Have you ever heard of a shell-less turtle that can grow up to 6 ft (1.8 m) long? Meet the Asian giant softshell turtle (Pelochelys cantorii). Unlike many of its relatives, it has no exterior shell—just a layer of thick rubbery skin covering wide-spanning, fused ribs that protect its internal organs. Its frog-like face adds to its unusual appearance. This reptile can be found in freshwater habitats where it burrows beneath the sand with only its snout poking out. Unfortunately, the species is threatened by loss of its riverine and coastal habitats, as well as by being hunted for its meat and eggs.
Photo: Dementia, CC BY-SA 2.0, flickr
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