#Double Clutch IV

[historyofguns]

The article is a review of the Bear & Son Double Clutch IV out-the-front knife by Randall Chaney on The Armory Life website. The knife, manufactured by Bear OPS, a division of the Alabama-based Bear & Son Knife company, is noted for its automatic double-action mechanism which allows the blade to extend and retract with a sliding trigger. Praised for its American craftsmanship, this knife offers a tanto-style blade made from D2 tool steel known for its edge retention and toughness. The review highlights the knife's solid construction, ease of use, and ergonomic design, while advising readers to be aware of local laws regarding automatic knives. The Double Clutch IV is appreciated for its sharpness and durability, with suggestions that the knife offers good value considering its quality. The knife is compared favorably with other Bear & Son products for its quality control and functionality in various scenarios.

[eupheme]

— the suit(s) stay on

[part iv of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 6.2k

tags: MMF threesome, dirty talk, triad poly relationship, holiday cheer, considerable filth with a side of feelings, yearning, double blow-job, frotting, hair-tugging, swallowing, come sharing/eating, reference to fisting, teasing, DVP/double vaginal sex, creampies

a/n: a belated halloween update, revised with a holiday theme 🎄💖

It’s torture, how good they look. How your eyes can’t help but wander at the holiday fundraiser - admiring the tight cling of their suits. Unable to help the itch in your fingers - all too eager to reach out and touch.

(or - you can’t wait to get your boyfriends home.)

You're not quite sure if you're going to be able to make it through tonight.

It’s definitely an exaggeration. Mostly. You're not that weak-willed. Or at least - that's what you tell yourself, as your eyes flick across the room for the eightieth time in the last fifteen minutes.

Almost missing the cup that you're adorning with sprinkles. A little "whoops" with a smile - the whipped cream covered in a dusting of glittering red and green, before it's handed off to the child in front of you.

Before your eyes snap across the room again.

It's just - Wade. The suit - it's been a while since you've seen him wear it for this long. Getting more comfortable in his skin without it, not needing the familiar cling to feel at home.

You think that has to be from Logan.

Logan, who's made progress as well - who no longer felt like he was letting the ones in his memories down, if he removed it. Who's figuring out how to toe the line between his old world and now - weekends slowly spent in warm flannels and worn, old jeans.

As much as it warms your heart - that you're glad, that you've been hoping for something for this - you still can't help the little flicker of appreciation.

The tight wrap of red leather and lyra. Even with his gaudy, cat-patterned 'meowy christmas' sweater - you had unfortunately had to veto "santa's favorite ho" and "jingle balls" - he looks good.

Too good.

And when he crouches down next to a boy in a reindeer sweater, the crinkle of his white eyes as he "oohs" and "ahhs" over the drawing clutched triumphantly in their fist - you have to resist the urge to sink your teeth into your fist.

Something soft and warm deep stirs inside you. Caught on the ease of his laugh - the way his head cocks at the kid chatters, leaning so casually and comfortably against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

You think your heart melts completely when you spot Logan at the next table over - grabbing another box from the floor, handing over art supplies. Yukio and Ellie on the other side - restocking the craft corner they set up.

The way you can see his mouth - lips curving at the corner as he leans over the barstool in front of him. Two smaller girls turning towards him, all four of them laughing at something he said - a marker pointed towards one of the drawings.

You don't know if you've ever been so happy. Or captivated, something about the gentle way they move, paired with the ferocity of the suit - what it means, the adoration that follows them - does something to you.

But, the holiday fundraiser at Sister Margaret's is still in full swing - you'll just have to get a hold of yourself.

An actual contribution to wayward girls at hand, and you have to admit that the place cleans up pretty well, once scrubbed.

The tables cleaned up, the low neon exchanged for the fluorescent lights above. Blood mopped from the floor from the last brawl - the chalkboard above covered by thick strings of garland, blotting out the names.

Filled with regulars and their families. Faces you recognize, friends of Wade’s. Friends you’ve gotten to know well - one of them slipping from the back of the crowd, making their way over to you.

"Hey."

Laura leans against the bar, where you've set up shop. Swapping hard liquor and shots for eggnog and cups of hot chocolate, spiraling towers of whipped cream.

"Hi," You smile, "You having a good time?"

She hums. Sinking onto one of the stools, her chin propped in the cup of her palm, "Good enough."

A slight smile, and you get it - she enjoys crowds as much as Logan does. You've gotten to know her more in the past weeks, especially as your and Wade's relationship with her father grew.

Became public, even - Wade unable to hold back the brag that the two of you had “finally cuffed this zaddy”, a thumb hitched towards Logan during another one of your movie nights.

But with the way you had seen him trying to hide his smile behind the roll of his eyes - you thought Logan hadn’t had minded.

Either that - or, he hadn’t understood a word Wade had said.

"Hot chocolate?" You wiggle a striped cup at her, and she nods.

"Logan seems to, too." Her head tips towards the table - somewhere in the last minute, he'd been coaxed to join. Elbows tucked close as he fits himself into an open space at the end, folded onto the old chair.

A beat - the milk still heating, as she adds, "It's... nice."

"I think so, too." Your smile only widens when Logan's head tilts your way, a hand raised - his ears must have been burning.

Laura waves back, as you beam.

"I don't remember my-," The words cut off, with a breath. A guilty look, as she corrects herself, "The Logan I knew didn't smile a lot. Not like this."

You never knew the Logan from your world. Knew of him - whispers, as you had gotten older. That door opening wider after you met Wade. Starting meeting his friends.

"I know he cared about you." You begin, carefully.

Her dark eyes turn your way - appraising. A small nod.

"I know that. I just mean..." Laura turns fully, then - the bar stool pivoting until she faces you, "You and Wade make sense."

The scoop hovers above the cup, as you frown. Unsure where she's going, and she must tell from your expression.

"But the two of you and Logan," She's quick to add on, "I think that makes sense, too. I think you both make him happy. And it's..."

Silence hangs again for a heartbeat, but this time, you understand.

"Yeah." It's good. It's a change - that tight tension easing from his shoulders. Smiles, like she said. Laughter, even if both still come slowly, they're still there.

"But you know that you have a lot to do with that as well, right?"

An uncomfortable look swims across her face. Not used to a compliment turned back around on her. Not used to seeing from a different points of view.

Even if it’s true. Even if you’ve seen the way her presence has affected him, the way he’s come to care about her much like the way this world’s Logan did.

"Anyways, I just wanted to tell you thanks." Her eyes drop, a brush-off of your earlier encouragement, "We're, I'm not that good at this-"

A little half-shrug, as her eyes flick back to yours.

"I know. You did great," You smile, lightly teasing, "And I still like you both, anyway."

In reality, it takes all your strength to resist the urge to reach across the bar and hug her. But you don't - don't want to scare her away. This had already meant more than you could ever say.

Instead, you swirl the whipped cream high. Letting your hand squeeze hers for just a second, as you pass it over.

From the way she smiles - you think she understands.

You almost make it home without an incident. Should have known by the way Wade’s hand swung in yours. Whistling a bastardized version of christmas carols a little too cheerfully - Logan’s knuckles brushing against his on the other side.

A block away from their apartment, before he’s eying you.

“So did you have fun, gorgeous?”

“Yes,” You answer, suspiciously, “Why did you ask it like that?”

“Dunno,” The whites of his eyes curve into half-moons, “Guess I’m just a little sore from you eye-pegging me every time I bent over.”

There’s a rough huff of a laugh, as your head whips to the side. Unable to help the smile, the roll of your own eyes.

“Was it the suit?”

His fingers flick at the cotton-balled end of the hat he still wears. The red velvet a deeper shade than his suit - a stolen memento from his brief stint passing out presents.

“Because if it was, Al’s car is parked right over there.” Wade’s voice drops, “Plenty of time for the ol’ Bad Santa and a hose-down before she gets home. Hell, if we get in the back seat she might not even notice-”

“Not from that suit.” Logan interrupts, his eyebrow lifting when his head turns your way, “You got a thing for leather, sweetheart?”

“Oh thank god.” Wade sighs, “You know I’ve met Santa? Tried to kill him, actually. Long story, it was for the children, but let’s just say he would not be happy about this impersonation.”

“It’s just your suits.” You clarify - turning to face them, as you stand at the entrance to the apartment, “But specifically, you in your suits. It’s just-”

Unable to help the grin, the shake of your head, “Ovary-exploding, really. Truly not fair.”

Logan’s look darkens, as heat floods through your cheeks, “That what’s had your heart racing all night?”

It distracts you, for just a moment.

You frown.

“How long have you been able to hear our heartbeats?”

Had he always? Did he spend weeks knowing how you and Wade felt about him - only to pull back, waiting?

The hungry edge sharpens - a sideways, lingering glance towards Wade.

“Just since I’ve started listening.”

Laura’s words burn through you, the memory of them melding with his look, settling low in your belly.

“Fuck.” You breathe.

Wade makes a sound of agreement, as he steps closer. Red pressing against yellow, as they cage you in against the front door.

“Seconded, babe. Clean up on aisle my pants.”

Logan scoffs, a glance over his shoulder - eyebrow cocked.

“That’s what did it for you?”

“What?” Wade shugs, “You know that emotional intimacy turns me on.”

A low growl as a red-gloved hand drops for an indulgent squeeze, before he’s reaching for the handle.

“Now let’s get inside before we make the naughty list for indecent exposure.”

“Is this what you wanted?”

Logan’s eyes are milky-white beneath the cowl. Jawline sharp with the cut of blue, framing the curve of his lips.

“You’ve seen it before.”

Snapshots of moments. Picking you up from work, as they’re on their way home from Sister Margaret’s.

Minutes snatched in the early morning - peeling away from a shared bed, letting you doze as they quickly suit up. Leaving the thoughts to burrow into your fantasies.

“Not like this.” You sigh, letting your fingers trace over his chest piece. Stepping close enough until you can smell the cling of leather and metal.

His strong frame even more broad, with the curved shoulder pads. Fearsome - and it makes your breath catch as your palm flattens over his heart.

“You want us to fuck you in our suits?” Wade’s voice croons in your ear - hand curling around your waist, tugging you back against him, “That what you’ve been thinking about?”

The lower-half of his mask tugged up, lips pressing against the soft space under your ear. Feeling what Logan hears - the hammer of your heart beneath skin.

“Yes.” You moan. Liking the feeling of being between them now, the chill of the leather and kevlar against your heated skin.

Unable to help the turn of your head. Meeting his mouth, the swipe of his tongue as his palm smoothes along your shoulder, down to your wrist. Fingers curling around, guiding your hand until it cups against yellow leather.

A command, breathed out against your lips.

“Then get him out and ready for us.”

There’s the sharp inhale of breath, a shift of Logan’s hips into your hand. You smile - lips touching down at the places your fingers linger.

His chin, the blue curve of cowl. Down the panels of his chest, the ridges that line up with the abs beneath.

A little frown as you thumb at his belt buckle, as you sit back on your heels. The red X fixed in place, the clasps still unknown to you.

“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Logan husks, chin lifting as his hands curl around his belt - a nod towards the pretty clothes you wore to the party.

You bite back a grin, as you follow - matching his speed.

A sweater exchanged for the loosening of his belt. Rising up so you can shimmy out of a skirt, as his zipper lowers.

Letting it pool against the floor - your tights peeled off next - as he eases himself out.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Wade breathes, just as your tongue peeks out to drag up Logan’s shaft, “You were hiding that away all night?”

The matching lace set you wear beneath. Not that you were planning *this,* but with Althea away for the weekend you had certainly been hoping.

Logan makes a rough sound of assent, as you take him between your lips. Velvet throbbing against your tongue as you moan around him - working him to full hardness.

Your nose brushing against the armor as his fingers trace along the strap at your shoulder. A low rumble in his throat, hips canting into the warm suck of your mouth.

Spit pooling on your tongue, as your hand curls around him - a slow pump as your head bobs.

“Get Wade ready, too.” Logan’s hand spans the back of your neck, easing you off him, “Gonna take both of us tonight, right?”

“Oh fuck,” Wade hands settle on his belt - pleased that Logan is playing along with your fantasy, “Yes.  Thank you-”

But this you know how to do - a kiss against the heft of Logan’s dick before you’re reaching for Wade. Fingers replacing his, slipping against the hidden zipper.

Lips pressing against the bulge, his hips shifting forward. Hard and leaking when you work him free. A soft sound as your lips wrap around him, swallowing him down.

Eyes shut, as you feel the weight against your tongue. Trying to take him down to the root, his hand cradling your jaw.

Flicking back open to peek up at him - the now-bare lower half of his face, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Teasing him, with the way you hold him in your mouth. Eyes shut as your tongue licks against the scarred skin, another lewd curse slipping from him.

Reaching for Logan again, your fist sliding against slick skin. He shifts closer, shoulder nudging Wade’s. A red-clad glove shifting to his ass again, but he only groans when you come back to him.

The old rug scrapes against your knees. Leaving a glossy print against their hips as you alternate the press of your lips.

Your hands wrapped around the base of their cocks. Angling them into your mouth as you lick and suck. Stroking, as your saliva smears against their skin, heat curling in your belly at the way they surround you.

Leaning into your touch, the familiarity of it. Skin apit-slick as the tip glides against your lips. Saliva pooling on your tongue, as you let it drip down his shaft.

Kisses peppered against yellow and red, as hands wander. The straps loosened on your bra, until they’re palming at your tits.

Low grunts melding with your sighs, as they shift closer. A slow shift until you’re fixed between them - a calculated look thrown their way before your fingers wrap around their shafts.

Another inch closer. Letting the tips nudge together, eyes half-lidded in fascination as spit strings between them.

Twin sounds slipping through the air, huffed breath and low grunts. Teasing them, before wrapping the curl of your hand around Where they touch.

There’s a growled-out “fuck”. A hand that cups the back of your head, easing you back to them. Your tongue peeking out to drag across each tip when your fist slides back.

A slow back-and-forth - hips pumping into the clutch of your hand, just off-sync from each other.

“Gonna make Lo come, gorgeous.”

It’s answered with a huff that comes out strangled.

Your eyes rove across him. Across thick thighs, the gape of his suit at his base and the dark smattering of hair beneath.

Up to the curve of Logan’s chest. Where his head tilts down, eyes dark above the broad suit.

Sharp points of his teeth, between parted lips.

“That right?” You coo, “Want you to. Look so good like this, baby.”

Reaching, your nails dragging against the yellow and blue. The slightest lean into your palm, as if he wishes it were against bare skin.

Logan makes a low sound - turning rough as Wade’s hand reaches across. Curving around his shaft, stroking. Tighter, rougher than you would - the leather creaking as his fist twists.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Wade hums, “Only took 24 years but it was well worth the wait, peanut.”

“You look good too, honey,” You can’t help but grin up at him, as your head turns. Tilting to press a kiss against his hip, as his hand keeps stroking, “Know I can’t never get enough of you like this.”

He laughs - a twist of his hips, the heavy swing of his cock as his tilts his ass towards you.

“Don’t have to butter me up, gorgeous. This thing is goddamn painted on and I thank Graham Churchyard every day for it.”

You laugh, before letting the curl of your tongue tease them again. Eyes tipping up to find Logan’s, as you let the tip slide against your lips again. Letting them part, as Wade tugs.

It’s too much.

There’s the sharp grit of teeth. Breath huffed out, a hand twisting roughly in your hair as you coo out his name.

You just manage to catch the low rasp of warning before Logan is spilling across your tongue. His release painting your lips, a smear across your chin before you’re able to take him into your mouth.

Swallow him down, as Wade works him empty.

If he were a lesser man, his knees would buckle.

Instead, he slips from you. Sinking down slowly, those blown-dark eyes on yours as he thumbs at his mess. Scooping the drip from your lip, feeding it back to you. Letting your teeth nip at his thumb, when it presses down against your tongue.

Mouth slotting to yours after, hands cupping your jaw. A hungry groan, with the soft swipe of his tongue.

Guiding you back to Wade, as he shifts behind you, your back pressed snugly against his chest.

“Come on, pretty girl.”

Wade’s fist is already working. The rough slide of leather-on-skin, lips parted with a groan.

He likes a show. Likes the way there’s still a hand around your neck. Another twisted in your hair, tilting your face up, though you need no coaxing.

Your tongue is already out. Pink and waiting, eyes set side-by-side as you and Logan both watch.

“Oh, baby girl.” Wade coos, a stutter in the flick of his wrist, “You belong on your knees, don’t you?”

Your eyes crinkle with your smile, head tilting back further. His eyes slide over your shoulder - a flash of teeth as he grins, too.

“Not leaving you out, Lo. I mean - raw, next question.” He tells Logan, “People’s Magazine knew their shit in 2008. Can’t say the same about now. I mean, Krasinski? I’m offended for you, frankly-“

There’s a rough hum, but there’s no bite behind it. Cozy in his afterglow, a shift of his hips against yours. The minute tightening of his grip, and if you didn’t know better - you might have thought he’d liked it.

Wade’s cock taps against your tongue.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

You can feel yourself clench at his words. Aching for something to fill you - tempted to drag Logan’s hand down.

“Wade, please.”

You can hear the whine in your voice. The need - throat flexing against Logan’s palm.

Wade’s white eyes narrowing. Teeth bared as he pants. Logan’s impatient huff, his voice coming low.

“Stop fucking around, Red.”

His hand joining - overlapping. Increasing the pressure as Wade groans, the tip gliding across your tongue, between your lips.

“Can’t a guy want a little praise, too?” Wade huffs, but you can hear it - how it slips from him, breathless.

Logan’s laugh is rough, “That right? Then be good, and come for us.”

“Jesus fuck-”

It slips from him as a rattled gasp, two more pumps and then he’s coming. Logan’s other hand keeping you in place, as Wade purposely makes it messy.

Against your tongue, lips, chin. Logan’s knuckles, dripping against the divots.

They’re offered to you. Brough up to your lips - your tongue dragging across each one, before Logan’s mouth presses against yours.

Groaning at the way you still taste like him. Like Wade, like you - deepening the kiss until you’re left breathless.

“Wish I could take you both.” It’s almost whined out. Eyes glassy, as his thumb swipes against your chin. Dipping between his lips, as Wade drops down to his knees to join you.

Unable to take them the way you want to. Frustrated with having to choose - a messy kiss that started at one shaft, ending at the other.

Logan chuckles - the sound a rough rumble in his chest, before he lets Wade taste himself on his tongue.

“Mm. I think we can manage that.”

This what you needed.

Not that you didn’t like before. You still shiver at the thought, the pinch of their fingers. Logan’s hand at your throat. The way Wade moaned. His words.

But you’re mindless, now. A lazy, figure-eight of your tongue. Jaw opening wide to suck, trying to see if they’ll both fit.

Propped up against a strong chest and abdomen, hardened with the armor. Your hazy concentration only marred by the wet drag of a tongue between your thighs.

You’re sure Logan’s working too hard. If he wanted to taste you, he only had to part his lips. Surely, you must be dripping for them.

“Goddamn. Hope y’all are hungry,” Wade coos, “because I am stroganoff this beef.”

You groan, as the curl of his thumb and finger - his grip stretched wide - flick towards the pink peek of your tongue.

It’s Logan’s idea, but Wade’s design.

A careful positioning, like before.

Funny how pliant Logan’s become, in these weeks since the beginning. Back when he was as stiff-backed as the chair he sat on. That crumpled paper in his fists. Snarling. Protesting. Denying.

Now, he let himself be pushed back on the mattress. Cock already half-hard with the prospect of more.

Narrowed eyes as Wade had nudged his thighs wider, settling between them, but he had only cooed.

“Don’t forget - gonna make you beg for it.” A kiss pressed against a knee, as Wade had patted his flank. “Only then, honey badger.”

“You wish.” It’s huffed out - paired with an eye roll, half-hearted and hidden beneath his cowl. His gaze simmering after, considering, as hands tug at your hips.

Guiding you into place - a low rumble when Logan’s gifted with your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his face.

All the better for you to taste them.

Twin sighs, when Wade’s bare hand had wrapped around - his teeth already sinking into the leather tip of his gloves, ripping them free.

Spitting into his palm, impatient. Your eyes fixed on how their skin grew slick, as Wade lined them up.

Pressing together. Fully hard by the time your head had dipped to taste them.

They slip against your tongue now, as a hand grasps at your waist. Using you as an anchor as Logan’s hips shift, chasing the sensations. Trying to tug you further against his mouth, dark eyes long closed in concentration.

Licking hungrily at your folds, the curl of a finger tugging your panties to the side. Stretching the elastic until it cuts into your skin, but it’s forgotten in the way the pleasure surges against the pointed flick of his tongue.

His cowl long tugged off, left on the side table. A hindrance, in his urge to bury his face against you - your hips rocking as you moan around their cocks.

Trying to take them deeper. Letting the drool drip from Wade’s cock down, to smear against the flushed shaft beneath. Your own fingers wrapping around, following Wade’s pace.

“‘s cute watching you try so hard. You should turn around, baby.” He coos - eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, “I know where we’d fit even better.”

Your rhythm stutters, as you catch up. You hadn’t been thinking about that. Content to take whatever they’d give you tonight, as many turns as they wanted to take.

But this - you must wear the consideration on your face, because Wade’s smile pulls wider.

“Think you could.” It’s murmured out, a soft challenge at the flicker of hesitation.

Another lick, before you're pulled back - head tilting, “I did, remember?”

“Last chapter,” He huffs, “I know, but-”

And his hips shift forward in a lazy grind, “Don’t you wanna know? Think we would really fill you up, gorgeous. Give you what you need.”

There’s a groan against your cunt, the body below you shifting.

It’s hard to concentrate, with the swipe of Logan’s tongue. The lazy lift of his hips, keeping the slow sweep of his cock against Wade’s.

And you consider them together, for a moment. The curling heat inside you twisting, the flames fanning higher.

“Don’t think I can.”

It’s regretful, but Wade only hums.

“You took my fist.”

Logan groans into your cunt, as the heat rises to your cheeks.

“I, we-, we’d been drinking! We worked up to it!”

A crowning achievement during an anniversary week spent in Miami - the smell of coconut rum still makes you nauseous, even if the memories carry a hazy, golden glow.

His shoulder lifts, “We got all night, gorgeous. It’s your call.”

There’s a heartbeat of a breath. Logan going still beneath you, but you can feel the shifting pressure of his fingers against your skin.

You can’t deny that Wade was right. That you’re curious. Always had been, eager to push yourself to the limit just to see if you could.

And the thought of fitting both their cocks inside you, sharing the same space as they ruin you - something else new to experience with them.

Your nod is sharp, the look you send him heated.

Wade’s voice pitches low.

“Logan, work our girl open.”

His hand is already moving. Tracing along your hip, a thumb teasing at your opening,

“How many?” Logan rasps, as he sinks to the knuckle. Feeling how you already squeeze around him, wet and warm.

“Four.”

You’re left panting. A tremble in your thighs when the second fits in, Logan’s first two fingers nudged deep inside you. The careful stretch as he works you open.

Coming hard when he reaches three - crying out as his fingers crook again and again. So easy to find that soft spot inside you when you’re so full, when you’re angled so his tongue can flick against your clit. Letting you ride out the orgasm against his hand, the last lined up to slip in.

Wade’s hand slowing, but never stopping. A running commentary at just how “good you’re gonna take them both”, how he’s always thought that “two dogs in a bun looked right to him”.

The pleasure still thrumming inside you when Logan eases his hand free, his fingers shining with you.

Ones that slip between his lips as Wade flips you around - the cold kiss and chirp of ‘baby knife!’ against your hip, the lace panties cut from you as he settles your hips against the cradle of his. Coating their cocks with lube, snatched from the bedside drawer.

You can feel them slide against your folds, slick and heavy. Wade’s hand at your hip, layering where Logan held you. The other still wrapped around both of them, eager to guide.

“Hi,” You smile, as Logan’s hand cups the back of your neck. Tugging you down to kiss him, as Wade tugs your hips back.

The sweet tang of your release lingers on his tongue. A soft greeting rumbled back with the shine of his teeth, the grin pulling wider as they start to sink into you.

Swallowing the gasp that rips from your chest, eyebrows pinched with concentration. His other hand mirroring Wade’s on your hip. A soft pressure, easing you back.

Nudging the tips of both of them inside you. The dull ache from the stretch sings through you, your breath held as your eyes go wide. Logan’s thumb sweeping against your neck as he watches you take them, eyes flicking down to the shadows between your thighs.

Gently coaxing you to move - inching them deeper each time, your knees digging into the mattress as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you.

“I know,” Logan soothes, his voice low, “You can take it, sweetheart. Feels fucking incredible, you know that?”

His fingers pinching against your skin, as he hold himself back. Resisting the urge to bury himself fully in you - letting you set the pace.

Wade’s voice joining him, the sound rough “Mm, gonna give Nabisco competition with the way we’re double stuffing you, gorgeous.”

Not having the same restraint, his hips moving. Shallow thrusts, a ragged groan at the way you grip him, the slick drag of his cock against Logan’s.

An inch deeper, and then another. Wade shifting until his hand plants on the mattress, closing the open space between you.

Angling himself down, a needy groan when it increases the pressure of his cock against Logan’s. The slick slide against each other as he traps you between them, as they find their rhythm.

Logan’s thrusts shallow, though no less desperate than the grind of Wade’s hips. Teeth against your shoulder, panting breath in your ear as a broad hand palms at your tits.

The fullness before was not like this.

An indescribable pressure, how you stretch wet and tight and snug around them. Each thrust rubbing against spots inside you that leave you seeing stars. Pressed flush against Logan, your spit-slick clit grinding against the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

It flushes any coherent thoughts from your head. Your face buried in his neck, trying to lift your hips to meet them. Sinking them just a little bit deeper with each slick thrust, until you’ve taken as much as you can.

“How’s she look?” It’s growled out, as your test your teeth against the leather collar of his suit. Barely-there imprints left behind - the suit as forgiving as their skin - as your moans are muffled.

The weight lifts from you, a hand braces between your shoulder blades as Wade leans back.

Heat curling inside you, rising to your cheek as the way he whistles - the grin you can imagine with his tone.

“Fucking perfect.” Two sharp thrusts with each word, and you clench with both, “Both of us inside you.”

Fingers trace where they fill you, as he hums with approval.

“That’s the way it should be. Don’t you think, baby?”

Your answering moan pitches high. Fingers curled where they grip on, cock-drunk and hazy. Pleasure licking inside you, and he can see the way you’ve gone tense in anticipation. Can feel the way you clench, and it only makes his hips snap harder.

“Know you’re close.” It comes out low, “Gonna make you squirt all over his suit. Make him wear you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Logan groans, as he babbles.

It works. It always fucking works and he always knows it - a pleased tone sinking in to the filth that pours from him.

“Fuck her, Wade.”

It’s snarled out, though not with anger, “Give her what she wants or I will.”

Fingers pinch at your nipples. The bed creaking with the lift of his hips - his pace slowed with the way both of you keep him pressed deep, resigned to the lazy pace Wade’s taken.

“So fucking bossy when you’re horny.” Wade huffs - the retort turning into white noise, as your focus narrows down to where you’re joined.

Each thrust taking you closer, and when he speeds up - grasping onto you, making you take it - it’s too much.

A warning is half-murmured out with panting breath, before your orgasm is ripping through you. Molten heat radiating down your limbs, as their hands roam. Tits and hips and the curve of your ass.

Wade leaning back, a hand cracking down against soft skin. Your shuddering moan as you clench helplessly around them, their cocks coated with your release.

He’s following soon after, pulled over with the tight clench. With the rub of Logan’s cock against his - a ragged groan, as he half-slips from you as he comes.

Words forgotten, as Wade shoots ropes of his spend inside you. Inching back to drip against your folds, the velvet shaft that still spears in you.

Logan’s hips jerk, pressing himself deeper. A low grunt as he takes over. Panting breath each time he tugs you flush, burying himself in the slick mess Wade left behind.

Pounding into you like he’s wanted to all night - fucking his boyfriend’s release deeper into you as you bounce on his cock. Jaw set as the air huffs through clenched teeth.

Wade’s hands at your waist, forcing the rhythm that starts to waver. His voice low in your ear, the devil on your shoulder.

“Tell him how good you’ve going to take his come, baby.”

A hand drifting, dipping down to rub circles against your clit.

“Gonna let him fill you up, isn’t that right? Sweet little pussy can’t get enough.”

“Please, Logan-” You whine, as the grip on your hips becomes bruising.

They make you insatiable, the way they tease and touch. The way they want you, can’t get enough.

It’s there in the way Logan’s eyes are on yours - tugging you down and flush as his orgasm rips through him, his cock throbbing deep inside you. It sets off your own release, squirming against Wade’s tireless touch, the rocking lift of Logan’s hips as he empties himself inside you.

Pulsing around him, a heady throb that radiates out from deep within - your moan melding with the low growl as he feels you come with him.

The grind of your hips slowing, as the pleasure slowly ebbs.

“Counting that as a joint effort, you’re not getting a point with the way you just laid there, pookie,” Wade’s lips press against your cheek, as you sag back against him.

Logan’s cheek twitches, liquid lead beneath you, “Always a fucking competition.”

There’s an affronted gasp.

“How dare you,” It comes out grave - Wade’s eyes narrowing, “A fucking competition is what brought us together in the first place.”

His mock-anger quickly forgotten, with a languid sigh, “Old Saint Nick can fuck right off because this is definitely what I wanted for Christmas.”

A sentiment that leaves you humming in agreement, as your hands brace on Logan’s chest. As your eyes drop - tracing the curves of armor, down to where he still spears into you.

Where his own already linger, where the yellow leather parts - the fabric slick and glossy. Stained with you. With them, where they drip from you, where you’ve been filled to the brim, and then spilling over.

You can’t pretend this isn’t what you wanted, as well.

You’re stretched out between them - bare skin between red and yellow. Drowsy in your fucked out haze. Leaning into the press of Wade’s lips.

Mouth, chin, throat. Teeth nipping, as his fingers drift across your curves. Down, until they’re slipping inside you. Swirling through the mix, melding their release together.

Logan’s chest pressing into your shoulder, as a hand hooks under your thigh. Opening you up wider, the lewd thrust of Wade’s fingers growing louder.

An inhale of breath, a low laugh against your neck. The mask tugged free from Wade’s face, lost in the tangle of the sheets.

“Just listen to you, baby.” He purrs, as his thumb rubs against your clit. Unable to help clenching around him, feeling how they drip out of you, “So fucking jealous, can’t remember the last time I was this full.”

There’s a low grunt from the other side.

“You really that desperate to get fucked, Wilson?” He drawls, fingers flexing against the hinge of your knee, “Just say when and where.”

“When.” Wade chirps, “Where.”

Logan laughs. Loose-limbed, a slow smile stretching across his face - stretching, as he yawns.

“Next time.”

Wade gives an aside glance.

“I’ll hold you to that, big boy.”

thank you for reading and for your patience! 💕 I have two more parts planned for them, and would love to have them up soon!

[evie-sturns]

ʙᴇᴅᴛɪᴍᴇ - ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: chris and you have twins together, lola and maggie, bedtime is always a struggle with them.

contains: fluff, kissing, swearing.

------------------------..••°°°°••..--------------------—-

11:37pm

chris and i have been dating since highschool, 4 years ago i gave birth to twins

"girls! bedtime please, i didn't realise the time." i call out, opening the door to their shared bedroom.

maggie and lola are bouncing on their double bed while squealing, i walk over to them, my hands resting on my waist. "are you meant to be doing this?"

they both pause to look over at me, innocence spread across their face.

"no.." maggie says quietly, i nod with a small smile

"are you ready for bed?" i ask as the girls flop down on the bed, "yes!" lola says throwing her arms up with a cute grin.

i pull up the covers over them, "stay in bed for the whole night okay? daddy will be in the kitchen until late, so bother him alright?" i say, pressing kisses to their foreheads.

walking out of their room, i flick off the lights behind me. i close their door softly and go out into the kitchen.

chris is sitting on a dining table chair, his phone in one hand and a pepsi can in the other.

"they asleep?" chris asks, putting his phone down "thankfully." i reply with a sigh, sitting down on chris's lap with a heavy sigh.

he plants a long kiss into my hair "i love you so much."

i flip myself around to straddle chris, moving my hair to one side i collide our lips together desperatly. "fuck.." chris breathes into the kiss.

bang.

a loud bang comes from the kids room, i instantly pull away from the kiss, my eyebrows scrunching i throw myself off of chris's lap.

i hear excitable laughing coming from outside their door. i swing open their door, the bedside table is tipped over, maggie and lola are giggling while throwing stuffed animals at each other.

"lola and maggie." i yell sternly, their heads instantly snap round to look at me, their face dropping.

"do you know what time is it? almost midnight." i glare at them

"i am going to put you to bed and if i hear another noise come from this room, dad is going to come in here and be very angry." im cut off by lola

"mommy but- but maggie keeps taking the blanket and my stuffie." she whines.

i shake my head and shut the door for the second time tonight.

"chris-" i say walking into the kitchen "shh i know." he says, grabbing my waist and picking me up. i groan into his shoulder as he walks us into the living room.

"lets watch a movie okay?" chris says calmly, the warm sleves of his crewnecks wrapped around me.

he plonks us down on the couch, i lay on his body comfortably.

-

1:34am

"this is the best part shush!!" i giggle.

"mooom!" i hear lola laugh as she runs into the room, clutching the ear of her bunny toy in one hand.

i look over at chris, whose rubbing his eyes with his ringed hands.

"maggie wet the bed." she points to her bedroom with a snort, covering her smile with her stuffed animal.

chris sits up, moving me off him and walking over to lola. he scoops her up with one arm, looking into her eyes he starts "did you hear what mom said?" he asks, maintaining eye contact with lola.

"well mommy's stupid!" lola says sassily, my jaw goes slack.

"lola no." chris says, more stern than ive ever heard him. he carries lola out of the room.

i lay back on the couch, closing my eyes and instantly drifting to sleep.

9:39am (the next day)

the harsh sunlight hits my body from the window to my left. i sit up, dazed and somehow in pyjamas, even though i fell asleep in jeans and a tanktop.

"what the fuck.." i groan, my eyes adjusting to the blinding light.

chris walkss into the living room "hey!! you're awake." he says happily.

"oh yeah hope you dont mind, i changed you last night after i changed the girls sheets, you were knoocked outt though." he says with a laugh.

"oh shit wait-" he says, doing a full 180° out of the living room.

he comes back in about a minute, hes holding lola and maggie, one in each hand. theyve both got small cards in their hands and a guilty expression on their face.

"chris what is this?" i ask, standing up off the couch.

"mommy i'm very sorry for being awake late last night." lola says, chris sets her down on two feet and she trots up to me, handing me the card.

the cards are in chris's hand writing, but has a drawing made by lola on the front.

"she told me what to write." chris clarifies setting down maggie aswell.

maggie runs up to me, "and im sorry for wetting the bed but dad says it wasn't my fault and you were just tired and grumpy and it was okay -.."

shes cut off by chris's hand over her mouth "shh shush".

"christopher!" i laugh, slapping his arm with a scoff.

—-----------------------..••°°°°��•..-------------------—-

got a good feeling bout this one team!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[the-badger-mole]

Kindness of Strangers

Please pick up

I'm busy

I know, but this is an emergency

With shaking hands, Zuko found Mai's number and pressed the call button. It rang twice before her voicemail picked up. Zuko groaned and almost started crying.

Mai, pick up Seriously, it's an emergency I don't got out that often zuko. You can't let me have ONE night? Mai I think i need to go to the hospital My stomach. I think it's food poisoning or something Your stomach ache? Seriously? You're a big boy. You can handle an upset tummy Drink some tea

Zuko groaned again. It felt like something solid and hot was burning through his intestine. He tried calling Mai again. This time it only rang once before he was sent to voicemail.

Leave me alone! If you call again, I'm blocking you

Zuko dialed Mai once more. Sure enough, it went right to voicemail this time. She'd done it. Zuko felt bile rising in his throat along with panic. His uncle was out of town. Haru, his only other friend didn't have a car. An ambulance was out of the question. His father had removed him from the family insurance policy, and though his uncle was working on the details to add Zuko to his own insurance, that wouldn't kick in until the following month at least. All Zuko had in the meantime was the student insurance the university provided, and it didn't cover ambulance rides. That left just one option.

The unsteadiness of his legs was a bad sign. As was the way his stomach roiled in protest at the movement. The hospital wasn't far, though, Zuko reasoned. He made it to his door, then he stumbled out into the hall, not even bothering with his shoes. He heard a gasp, and realized his neighbor across the hall was there.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Zuko shook his head. Then, he doubled over and puked onto the tile floor. The neighbor-Zuko recalled he'd heard someone call her Katara.

"My stomach," Zuko groaned, clutching his side. Katara rushed over and tried to help him stand, but the pain wouldn't let him stand upright. He felt a cool hand against his forehead. Then is jerked away with a gasp.

"You need to go to the hospital!" Katara said. She pulled out her phone, but Zuko groaned and tried to stop her.

"No ambulance," he insisted miserably. "Can't afford it." Katara hesitated, and Zuko knew she was debating calling anyway. Finally she sighed and slipped his arm around her shoulders, and helped him into the elevator and into the parking lot.

"Don't you dare throw up in my car," she muttered, strapping him into the passenger seat of a small, blue sedan. She slid into the driver's seat and reached into the back. Zuko was vaguely aware of some rustling, but he didn't know what it meant until Katara passed him an empty plastic bag. She peeled out of the parking lot and raced the two miles to the hospital. The large, white building was in sight when Zuko made good use of the plastic bag. He was still clutching it minutes later when Katara helped him out of the car and into the emergency room.

The next bit was a blur. He was brought back to triage almost immediately where it was discovered he had a ruptured appendix. The words emergency surgery were the last words he heard clearly before he was being stripped, shaved and prepped for the OR. This, he would later decide, was a blessing. He hated hospitals, and this visit would've sent him into an anxiety spiral. As it was, he still had a moment of panic when he woke up attached to an IV and several upsetting sounding monitors, but the panic fizzled into confusion when he realized he wasn't alone in the room. Across from him, in the chair, his neighbor sat curled up under a thin blanket.

She must have felt him staring because she stirred, and then looked up at him. She blinked in confusion, trying to understand where she was and why, Zuko guessed. Then she smiled at him sleepily.

"The doctor said you'd be out a while," she told him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I...yeah," Zuko said. He was fine, at the moment, though, he could feel the dull ache emanating from his side from where they'd taken his appendix out. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't know who to call," Katara explained. "I thought you would probably prefer not to wake up in a hospital room alone. They said it was fine if I stayed."

"Oh..." Zuko eyes fell to his hand, to the needle and tube stuck into his skin. Whatever the IV was delivering seemed to be working. He was already feeling the haze of sleepiness creeping back in. "Thank you."

"No problem." Katara smiled warmly. "Is there someone you want me to call? I have your phone."

"Did..." Zuko swallowed hard. "Did anyone call me?" Katara glanced down at his phone and shook her head.

"No," she said. "You've only been here about three or so hours, though." Zuko sighed and let his head fall back. Mai hadn't called. He was irritated, but also a bit...relieved? That surprised him.

"Can you call my uncle?" he asked. He told Katara his passcode. As he drifted to sleep, he heard her telling his uncle that he was fine, and had already come out of surgery.

The next time he woke, the sun was up, and he was once again not alone. Iroh sat in the chair across from him, worry lines etched deep in his face. His entire body unclenched with relief when he saw Zuko open his eyes. He was, Zuko surmised, thinking of the last time he'd sat in a hospital room with his nephew.

"How are you feeling, Zuko?" he asked. He came up to Zuko's side and placed a hand on his wrist, careful not to disturb the medicine drip.

"Like lukewarm garbage," Zuko sighed. The events of the night before caught up to him and he jolted up, looking around. "Where's...?"

"That lovely young woman who brought you in?" Iroh chuckled. "She offered to stay, but she looked like she could use some rest. Very kind of her to sit with you."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed. Iroh cast him a sly look, one that Zuko was too heavily medicated to take heed of.

"She's very pretty, too," he commented offhandedly. "Even after spending the night sleeping in a hospital chair."

"She's too young for you," Zuko snorted.

"Indeed!" Iroh agreed emphatically. "But...she is just the right age for a handsome young man who happens to be studying at the same school and lives in the same building as her. One who now owes her a nice thank you dinner. One into whose phone I took the liberty of programing her number, and who should definitely call and let her know how he's doing."

"Uncle," Zuko groaned.

"I did tell her you would let her know you're okay," Iroh said. "I'm just saying."

"I'm dating Mai." That brought back the earlier portion of the night. Zuko looked around and grabbed his phone. Surely Mai had called him at some point. There was nothing from her. He tried calling her, but it still went straight to voicemail.

"Something wrong?" Iroh asked. Zuko sighed and shook his head.

"No, uncle. Nothing at all."

Zuko didn't hear from Mai until the following day. He hadn't tried to reach out to her again, so he didn't know when she had unblocked him. Suddenly, his phone started ringing and her name and picture showed up.

"Hello?" Zuko said groggily. He had been taken off the pain medication, but the effects hadn't worn off yet.

"Why is your door unlocked?" Mai asked. "Where are you?" Anger boiled up in Zuko's body, unhindered by the lingering drugs.

"The hospital," he told her dryly. "My appendix ruptured." He had at least the satisfaction of hearing her gasp.

"What hospital are you at?" she asked. "How long have you been there?"

"I've been here since I called you to tell you I needed to go to the hospital," Zuko snapped. Mai let out an irritated huff.

"Well, I would've come if you'd told me it was that serious," she said. "It just sounded like you were overreacting about a stomach flu! Where are you? When are you getting checked out?"

"They're discharging me tomorrow," Zuko told her.

"Do you need a ride home?" Mai asked.

"It's taken care of," he said, shortly. "Uncle's coming to get me, so you don't have to bother about it."

"Why are you being so bratty about this?" Mai demanded. "I said I was sorry!" She hadn't, but Zuko chose not to point that out.

"Where were you?" he asked instead.

"Out with friends." That answered absolutely nothing, but the tone of her voice told Zuko that was all the answer he would get.

"Whatever," he huffed. Mai was silent on the other end for a long moment.

"You want me to bring some food?" she asked. She sounded unusually subdued. "I can bring you something at the hospital, or I can make something for when you get back, tomorrow."

"It's fine," Zuko sighed. "I'm staying with Uncle for a few days."

"Are you going to be all mopey about this?" Mai demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Zuko turned his head to scowl at his phone.

"You're doing that woe-is-me, kicked puppy voice you do," Mai said. "I'm sorry I didn't rush over when you called, but I had been drinking, so it's not like I would've been able to take you anyway."

"So instead of saying that, you blocked me?" Zuko's grip on the phone tightened, and he resisted the urge to hurl it across the room. Surely it shouldn't be this hard being in a relationship. Surely it shouldn't be a battle to get his girlfriend to be sympathetic to him after he almost died and needed emergency surgery. The machine monitoring his heartrate started making an alarmed beeping noise, and Zuko forced himself to take a deep breath.

"You know what?" Mai said quietly. "I'm going to let you go. Clearly you need some rest."

"Mai-"

"See you later, Zuko."

The call dropped. Mai had hung up on him again. Zuko's heartrate dropped to it's normal pace.

Mai didn't call again after that, and Zuko didn't call either. She sent him a few texts during the time that he was at his uncle's house recovering. He sent her very short responses. He was fine. He would be home after his stiches were removed.

A day or two into his stay, another message came through.

Hey Just wanted to see how you were doing This is Katara, by the way. Your neighbor Your uncle gave me your number Hope that's ok

Zuko was fine with it, it turned out. More fine than a man with a girlfriend should be, maybe.

When he finally returned to his apartment, his first call was to let Mai know hie was home. She didn't live far, and she wasn't busy. Fifteen minutes later, she was at his door, looking sullen and bored.

"Glad to see you're okay," she said.

"Yeah." Zuko led her into the apartment and sat at the table. Uncle had left him with cookies, among other assorted reheatable dishes. He offered one to Mai. She declined. Then there was nothing else to stall with.

"Why did you block me?" he asked Mai. There was no heat in his voice, no anger. He genuinely wanted to know. Mai scowled at him.

"Seriously? You're not over that yet?"

"I just want to know why," Zuko pressed.

"You were bugging me," Mai shrugged carelessly. "I was out with friends, and I thought you were just trying to get me to leave early."

"When have I ever done that to you?" Indignation flashed through Zuko, hot and bright. Mai just shrugged again. She sat back in her seat and folded her arms.

"I'm sorry, alright?" she huffed. "Can you just drop it now?" Zuko leaned back and studied Mai. He had been with her for five years. She was his first ever high school girlfriend. Had she always been so dismissive?

"I needed you," he said. That made Mai roll her eyes skyward.

"I promise it won't happen again," she said. Zuko shut his eyes and shook his head.

He had other questions. Lots of them. For one thing it occurred to him that she might be cheating, and the reason she refused to answer or come to him when he called was because she was busy with some other guy. It wouldn't have been the first time. He could ask and give her a chance to lie about it. He could even pretend to believe her. Or she might be telling the truth and he was wrong about her cheating. It didn't matter, he realized suddenly. Her answer didn't matter, so he wouldn't ask.

"It won't happen again," he agreed at last. "Mai... I think we should break up."

Zuko's next call was to Katara. The day after his messy break up with Mai, having cleaned up the remains of his cookies and the plate they were on, Zuko dialed Katara's number.

"Hello?" she said, sounding uncertain.

"Hey...um...Zuko here." Zuko's face flushed hotly when he heard her giggle on the other end.

"I know," she said. "I have your number, remember? How are you doing? Are you back?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm back. I'm feeling a lot better. A little sore, but I can get around."

"I'm glad to hear it." And she sounded genuinely glad. "You didn't have to do all that to meet me, though. You could've just knocked on my door and said hi."

"And waste an opener like puking my guts and almost dying in your car?" Zuko was rewarded with another giggle. She had a nice laugh, he thought. It was so easy to talk to her.

"It was a memorable opener, I'll give you that," she said, laughing again.

"Yeah." Zuko swallowed hard against his suddenly dry mouth. "I was actually calling to thank you. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been here."

"Don't worry about it," Katara said. "I'm just glad I was able to help."

"Yes, well..." Zuko chided himself for being such a coward, and he forced his next words out. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me. To thank you! To say thanks for saving my life."

"Zuko, you don't owe me anything," Katara said gently. Zuko's heart fell into his stomach.

"Oh...I just thought I'd offer." He tried to keep his tone even and friendly as he hit his forehead with his other hand. Stupid. This was a stupid, stupid idea. "If you're not interested, I understand."

"I didn't say I wasn't interested," Katara said quietly. "Just that you don't owe me. I-I wouldn't mind having dinner with you. Just...you know, not as an obligation you think you owe me."

"Oh..."

Oh!

"What if it's not an obligation?" Zuko asked. "What if-I'm asking because I think you're kind and pretty and I'd like to get to know you better?"

Katara went silent for what felt like a nerve-wrackingly long time, but was likely just a few short seconds. Then she said the three sweetest words Zuko thought he'd ever heard.

"It's a date."

[chaotic-fandom-writer]

Adam x Reader P.2 (Hazbin Hotel)

Warnings: Heavy cursing, violence, adult themes

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

You

Heaven.

That was where you ended up.

No, no, no this can't be happening -

Your internal thoughts keep getting cut off by people trying to speak to you, to welcome and guide you, but you completely shut everything and everyone out. All you can think is that you'll never see your friends again, they could all die without you down there. And worst of all, you know eventually you'll come face to face with him.

He's the entire fucking reason you ended up here! If he wasn't meddling with your life, you would've been surrounded by your friends, fighting. Not exposed on a rooftop.

That's it, you decided. From here on out, I hate him. Clenching your jaw, you allow yourself to be pulled along by the angels, guiding you to your new room and giving you a general tour.

The most notable people you'd met so far had been Sera and Emily, two of the upper-level angels around. They arranged a meeting with you to discuss "what this means," and left you alone in your room.

What this means? You think to yourself. For who though?

--

Adam

Still clutching onto (Y/N)'s now lifeless body, he slowly began to lower her down, rubbing the dried tears from his eyes.

Lute just stood, silently. She's probably confused. He thought to himself. And she's got that judgy-bitch look in her eyes I know she gets.

"Sir-" She started.

"Just don't." He took one last look at the body before him, then sounded the signal, opening up the portal to head back into Heaven.

Heaven seemed.. different. Everyone was running all over the place. Adam could tell they were still trying to act like everything was okay, but truthfully, the entire kingdom just had an uncomfortable, almost panicked buzz flying around it, like a swarm of angry bees on a hot summer day.

"Lute, what the fuck is going on?"

"I- I'm not sure sir. I'll go see."

She flew on ahead, and he paused, taking a good look around. People ran up to each other speaking in hurried, hushed tones, others were locking their windows and drawing their blinds.

Finally, Adam grabbed the wrist of the first person he came across. "You. What the fuck is going on here?"

The man stutters, his eyes barely registering Adam. They were glazed over like foggy glass, beads of sweat forming on the tip of his nose.

"They - they made it in."

Adam furrowed his brow. "Who did?"

"The sinners!" He screamed, wrenching his wrist free and bolting down the street.

"Oh HELL no."

Adam knew he had to find Sera. Fast.

--

"Sera! Sera, you bitch, do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" He doubles over, panting, somehow out of breath.

"Adam. We have a problem."

"Yeah, so I was hearing. A sinner got into Heaven? Was there a breach or something?"

She shakes her head, looking grim. "A death."

He looks at her, taken aback. "A death? Of a sinner from Hell? That's impossible Sera."

"Well, believe it Adam. That's not the worst of it, either.." She trails off, walking towards a window, staring out over the city. "Well, what then?" He questions.

She stands silently for a moment, before turning to him, her face falling. "It's her, Adam."

He can feel his heart drop into his stomach. "Her who?" He asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Don't play games."

"She CAN'T fucking be here Sera! She just- she can't, okay? There's no way, that's impossible." He can feel his hands shake, and his breath quickens.

"Go see for yourself then. Room 4B." She dangles a key from her fingertips.

Snatching it, he spreads his wings, clenching his teeth through the pain of his now-rapidly healing wing, and flies down the halls as fast as he can.

There's no way, there's no way, there's no way -

Room 4B. He stops in front of it, unsure what to do now that he's made it this far.

Adam lifts a shaky hand to the door and..

--

You

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

Lifting your weary head from the now tear-stained pillows, you turn to look at the door through the darkness of the room.

It comes again. More urgent this time. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

You groan. You really didn't want to deal with any of this right now, but you pulled yourself up anyways, knowing they'd never leave.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

"Fuck, I'm COMING! Hold on!"

You flip on the lights and glance in the mirror, wincing at the makeup stains running down your face, but not bothering to clean it.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

"Oh my fucking god, just be patient will yo-"

You cut yourself off as you swing open the door and find Adam standing before you.

"Holy shit, you're alive." Is all he can manage to stutter out.

You glare at him.

"What the FUCK do you want?"

"Look, just hear me out-" You cut him off with a satisfying punch directly in his jaw. His mask cracks.

"Um, OW, fucking bitch!" He cradles his jaw. "Will you just fucking listen for a second?"

"This is all YOUR fault!" You shout, feeling your eyes get hot with tears. "I don't want to be here!"

He blinks. "Why wouldn't you want to be in Heaven?"

"Because, asshole, my entire life was down there! Maybe it was Hell, but my friends and I were building something good. And all you ever do is try to tear it down!" You swing at him again.

This time, he anticipates your punch, catching your wrist and pulling you toward him. "Yeah, and with good reason. What do you think would happen to Heaven if you and all your little sinners tried uprising? It would be chaos! It-"

You attempt, and fail, to wrench your wrist away from him. "Let me go!" His grip tightens.

"Can you LISTEN for a minute?" You quiet down, breathing heavily. "What?"

"You.. I.." He stutters, seemingly unsure of how to say what he wanted.

Is he.. blushing?

"What do you want, Adam?"

"You need to know the truth. About us."

"Us."

His grip on your wrist softens slightly. "We knew each other, a long time ago."

You blink. "Yeah right, Adam, I think I'd remember that."

He looks away. "Except you wouldn't, because.. your memory was wiped."

You try to take a step back, but he doesn't let go. "What are you talking about?"

"We used to.." He stops. "He just used to know each other, alright?"

We.. knew each other?

How?

--

Don't forget, I'm always accpeting requests

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Have you gotten any requests abt First? I simply would like to request some general yan hcs if thats fine. But if not, thats alright. I hope things have been lovely for you dearie <33 (ive just been craving for First food)

Ofc ofc!!

TW: Yandarism but i’m tired so it’s fairly tame if i’m going to be honest, tame by my standards

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Yan!First Headcannons

He has fond memories of his guide. How they skillfully protected him with their insight to ensure his success. He clutched those days of tranquillity close to his heart -or what he believes to be left of it- when he was locked up. When you were ripped away from him by a jealous god’s hand. He tries to focus on the softness of your voice and not the shrill of your screams when you were being made to watch his torment. He was free now. But from what he knows, you aren’t. And on your name he is going to maim the soul that did that to you. Even if it’s the goddess that allowed you to meet in the first place.

That said, he didn’t originally know you were his guide. He was shaken from being thrown into a portal and he was so hurt and you were so kind… It was natural for him to latch to the first bit of care given to him since your first absence.

It didn’t take him remembering -or rather realising- you were his guide until he started his spiral. No. He’s been teetering on the edge for years, and if falling into madness ment falling into your arms, then so be it. With that, he doubles down when he remembers you. Brought together by the gods and fate, how could he not keep you to himself after so long of being on his own?

He thrives on whatever it is you want. He’ll talk or listen to you for days, savouring the calmness in your voice. He’d pull you close in front of everyone and remember every freckle on your skin, every scar that lined it, every hair on your head. He’d write you letters of sonnets and prose, watching you read it with concentration, as if to see that you like it. He’d buy you anything, do anything, say anything, so long as it had your approval.

I see him as either very sneaky and courting you so eloquently that his possessiveness and protectiveness is part of the package. Him showing off that you chose him, that he’s good enough. Him showing off that no matter how much his… predecessors think they have you, you’ve always been his from the beginning. This is with an earlier intro to the chain, him trying to fend off competition as more members begin to fall. A strategy, if you will.

Or he’s on you the second he has consent, not caring for standards so long as you are his and he is yours. A scramble for your attention against your many suitors followers. I see this as First with a later intro where everyone’s already not right in the head. He’s bartering for and peice if you at this point. Any attention you give him will be well spent and obsessed over.

100% kidnapping you the second the chance presents itself. You’ll be married properly, he’ll treat you impeccably well, just be sure to play along.

Fav nicknames for you: My dear, Dearest, My love, My Sun, Flower, Darling, essentially anything classy

BONUS: This single handedly had me questioning if i wanted him and the others in ACU

[stellar-skyy]

DANCE WITH ME! - Platonic Freminet & reader

i. SUMMARY: Freminet dances with his sibling. ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Implied sensory overload. iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, found family, older sibling!reader, fluff, slight hurt/comfort(?), gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.5k words. iv. A/N: I really wanted to get this out because it's the last time I have time to write for like a week, so I'm sorry if it seems rushed. ;-; This is technically a continuation of my other Freminet fic, the warmth of home, set much further in the future.

Freminet stood against the furthest wall of the ballroom, holding a glass with both hands and hoping if he huddled close enough into the corner he would become one with the wallpaper itself.

Lyney was dazzling guests on the other side of the room, a luminous smile on his lips and no shortage of charm dripping from his words. A clever magic trick here, a whisper of sweet words there, and half of the party had fallen for him. Lynette stood beside him: silent, but still carrying her own unique charm. She might not be as flashy as Lyney, but she still was one the guests fawned over, for her quiet charisma and peculiar demeanour.

Freminet wasn’t originally on the guestlist of the party, only being added at the last minute as a ‘thank you’ from the hotel owner for fixing some bits of machinery within the walls of the hotel. And even then, it took Lyney convincing him to make a polite appearance to drag him away from the sea—the place he was planning on spending that night instead.

They’d arrived as a group, being greeted warmly by the host. It took about three minutes for Lyney to be swept away by a crowd of adoring fans of his performances, Lynette following close behind as she always did, and Freminet—

Freminet was left alone. 

It wasn’t as if being overlooked was a new experience for him. Lyney and Lynette thrived in the spotlight, while all Freminet did was wilt, so they were content keeping the attention away from him. It was easier that way; he could blend into the shadows and retreat back into his own mind, where there was no one to disturb him. He didn’t care about being ignored by the guests.

(He just didn’t want to be ignored by his siblings.)

Freminet clutched the glass tightly in his hands. He was still too young to drink, so when he was handed the glass of wine by a passing waiter, Lynette was quick to swoop over and swap it with a glass of water instead, before returning to her twin’s side.  

The music had gotten louder, the orchestra playing a more upbeat song than the ballad that had preceded it. It was an enjoyable sound in theory, but the sheer volume of it—combined with the overlapping chatter in the room, thick smell of wine, and bustling crowds—made it sound like they were playing their violins with knives. They scraped along the strings, a metallic screeching echoing across the ballroom.

Why didn’t anyone else look bothered by the noise? Was he the only one who could hear it?

“—eminet? Freminet?”

The voice cut through the other noise in his ears, letting his attention fall directly on the concerned look of the person in front of him. He stumbled backwards slightly—when did they get so close?

“Freminet, are you okay?” (Name) repeated, a furrow in their brow. “I’ve been calling for you and you haven’t responded.”

“I-I’m okay, it’s just…” He swallowed, looking back down at the glass of water in his hands. “…very loud.”

Their eyes widened in understanding. “Do you want to me to take you somewhere quieter?”

He nodded, shrinking back into himself. Disappearing acts were more his brother’s specialty, but he wouldn’t mind being whisked away for a while. And of course, it wasn’t polite to make his sibling escort him out of the party, but the noise was so dreadful that he couldn’t even bring himself to feel self-conscious about it.

(Name) brought him through the crowd, dodging both guests and waiters as they led him past the dancefloor, up the stairs and out a set of double doors. The two emerged onto a balcony, almost being knocked back by the biting wind.

“Here. We can stay as long as you like.” They said, sliding down against the railing to sit cross-legged on the floor. Cautiously, Freminet did the same.

“It’s much quieter here.” He muttered to himself, before addressing (Name) again. “Won’t you be missing the party?”

“It’s okay,” they said easily. “I was pretty tired myself.”

The music was still audible through to the balcony, reverberating through the walls in a muted symphony. As minutes passed, it shifted in tone from joyful melodies to a slower waltz.

Through the window they could see through to the bottom floor, where Lyney still entertaining guests. As the music changed, he looked over at Lynette with a tilt of his head. She blinked back at him and nodded slightly, taking his hand as he extended it to her. Their ability to communicate without a single word was always something that puzzled Freminet, but seeing the guest’s confused reactions made him think it was just something that only made sense to the two of them.

“What are they doing?” Freminet mumbled, watching Lyney lead Lynette to the centre of the dance floor.

“They’re going to dance together.” (Name) replied, also observing the pair. Sure enough, Lyney let go of Lynette’s hand long enough to shift it to the middle of her back, clasping their other hands together and sweeping across the floor.

“They look so elegant…”

(Name) hummed in agreement.

“I think I would have liked to dance. Not in front of everyone, though.” Freminet said quietly. (Name) was quiet for a beat, before abruptly standing up.

“I guess it’s good we’re alone out here, then.”

“Huh?” He blinked at them.

“Dance with me!” They stuck out their hand, a grin across their face.

“R-Right now?” He glanced around himself, as if there were guests loitering around the corner, ready to scoff at him at any moment. “But we’re outside, and I don’t—”

“We can still hear the music from out here,” They reasoned, not moving their hand. “It’s just me. There’s no one out here to stare at you.”

“I’m not that good.” Freminet frowned, looking back at Lyney and Lynette twirling across the floor. More guests had swarmed to the dancefloor following their lead, pairs spinning and dancing across the ballroom. The dance seemed easy enough to follow, and Lynette had run him through the basic steps of the waltz ‘in case of emergency’…

Before he could think about it too hard, Freminet had laced his fingers around his siblings and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. (Name) rested their other hand in the middle of his back, while he hesitantly placed his on top of their shoulder.

In time with the music, Freminet was pulled across the balcony in a gentle rhythm. They glided round in a gradual circle, in time to the tempo of the music echoing outside.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

On the third beat, Freminet faltered, almost stepping on (Name)’s feet before he caught himself. He ducked his head in embarrassment, watching his feet carefully to make sure he didn’t accidentally stumble.

The dance was slightly awkward with their inexperience, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The music was faint in his ears, the crowd was a distant memory, and all he could pay attention to was how light he felt. This must be how Lyney and Lynette feel when they’re together; like he was free to let the weights slide off his shoulders and just simply exist, without worrying about the other’s judgement. He’d never have his other half like they had, but he had (Name) and that was good enough.

They let go of the hand across his back, stepping back to spin him around in a twirl. The movement made him slightly dizzy, but they were right there to grab onto him and make sure he didn’t fall. To think, his plans changed from diving into the ocean and not emerging until the early morning to dancing a waltz on a balcony with his sibling. The entire thing…

It was rather absurd, wasn’t it?

A giggle escaped his lips, then another and another until he could hardly breathe through the laughter. His sibling was staring at him like he’d gone mad, and with good reason. Freminet wasn’t one for emotion—he liked to think of himself as an impassive and cold, free from needless feelings. It wasn’t in his nature to smile often or laugh.

But (Name) soon fell into their own fit of giggles, as if catching a contagion. Their steps stumbled and faltered, until they’d collapsed against each other. Freminet looked up at them, an open smile twisting his features into something almost unrecognisable. There was a warmth spreading across his chest, akin to the exhilaration he got whenever he first dove into the water.

“Do you want to go back inside?” They asked, stepping back to lean against the railing. Freminet hesitated.

He could see through the glass that the twins had finished their dance, Lyney whispering to Lynette while scanning the room in a look Freminet knew to be the face he made whenever he was hiding how troubled he was. His eyes swept around the guests—looking for the two of them, it seemed. Logically, he knew he should go back inside to at least let them know he was okay, and hadn’t just vanished into the sea like he usually did. It would be the polite thing to do.

But he had his sibling with him. And the wind was a pleasant coldness against his cheeks.

“It’s peaceful out here.” He said quietly. “Let’s… stay a little bit longer.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[pinkkstarss]

for my next trick, i will explain boat boys as if youve never heard of them, but im sick and cant be botherd correcting my spelling mistakes:

boat boys forst origionated in this minhecraft server grian (their frined) amde called double life. double life is the thirud season of an on going sereies called the life series or, some poeple call it the traffic series bcuz the lifes u get go from 1-red 2-yellow green-3. anywasy so bopat boys are joel and etho(eefo). they wweere paierd in doubl;e life. on he first day they got to know eachother and they made some jokes and stuff, it was niv]ce. actuually they ar ecalled boat b hoys bcuz they went arounf the server in boats. like, on land. it was very funny. the seconf session joel made a big boat for them to live in called the "relation-shipo", (get iot, get it? nudge nudge). etho went tyo the warden and joel sount very concerned as he did so. i dont remeber much abouyt double life as ive been binging limited life for 3 months now. they died due to a trapped nether portal. the perotral had lava spilled aorunf it. it was very sad.

also inportant fact: ther forst time etho and h=joel ever in terected on the whole entire life series they were in boats. they were both riding in boats. are u joking me. THATS SO FUCKING POETOIC WTF CHBFSHVBSHJBJHVKS

onto liml li9fe. they firat saw eachorther in the forst session. etho said "oh so ur gonna make a boat with a new friend now huh?" bcuz joel and jimmy had planned to live in the water. etho was very jealous ogf this, it made me sad. then joel saw etho ina boat with a co2w and joelk saidn "CANT BELEIVE YOUVE REPLACED ME WEITH A COW EEFO!!!" and etho responded with "he keeps me company atleats" AHAHDBFBHVBHWJJVSB JKSNNOOO. anyways in session 4, etho KILLDED JOEL!?!?!?11?!?!??! it was vwery cool actually. joe, clutchedf a fall, and etho landed in huis clutch water and saidf" YOU SAVED ME. YOU SAVED ME JOEL, SO NOW I CAN KILL YOU" that was very cool of etho. even joel daid himself to etho "the fact you landed in my own water bucket trick" i thionk thats everything improtant in liml life?

then serect life. oh, secrect life. my beloved. my onbe treu savior. save me secret life, save me. so, the two sigificant events of secrect life between bgoat boys i can remeber are 1: joel and ehto hop in ab baot otghter and joel goes "we cant do tjis ehto, the fandom will go crazy" (true( then vthey go for a lottle ride untill they are fiorced to stop by a blcok in. their way and ehto goes "well tjis is where the relatiopnshoip ens" HDGBDFISBFCHBES 2: scott is talk9ng abt his task for the sessions=] which is "say i love you to three plkayers and get them to say ot back" so rheyre discussing who would say it back, andf scott goes "i love yoy " to etho and he goes "thank you?-' HAHAH ayways so one thing leadfs to another and etho is on joels front door stepo saying to joel "i loive you" and joerl responds "uhh ok eefo i know youre obbesed with me i saw u made me the thiumbnail for ur fist bvidoe but cmon ehto calm donw" and etho is sad NSJDWBHJSDCJH im sad jusbjbfdn. its alot.

and now the decked o0ut stream. (ik th9s. was before secret life SHUTUPSHGUTPU) so, jimmy askes for a kiss from joel before he does his decked oyut run. joel goes "yeah sure. on the neckk" and jim goes silent till joel goes "WAIT NO ON THE NECK- I MEANT THE CHEEK IM MEANT THE CHEEK" nd it li9ke this hwole meme for the whole event. jimmy startes sing "etho and joel, sitting in a baot" and etho goes "kissing on the neck"!!!!!GSUGDEGUSDVJ!!!!then when they are at rens ice biat thgingy joel and wehto are sitting nect to eacher in thjeor boat s and etho goes "AWH GOTTA COVER UP MY NECK " joelsays "I DONT KISS [PEOIPLES NECKS!!!" then joel scooches up to etho in his boat and joel goes "schooching up to ya etho " and etho goes "his hand slowly reaches into my hair" LIKE EHTO IS HEE WRITING A WHOLE FANFIC OKKKK ETHO I SEE YOUUU. anyways rhat was very funny.

anyways. hermitcraft. oh boy. theres a lot and i will prpbaly misss a lot too but oh well its later and im sick and tired so SUCK IT UP. ill just do dotpointrs of the things i remeber.

etho sees jols banners and really like sthem and asks j]him for trhe pattern, whoch leads to many books which may or may nboit have been signed with neck kisees.

etho makes statues of jpel them pretemds oit wasnt him. joel rrqally liukes the statues and adds thjem to the front of hios nade awith his tori gate

etho so happens to be talk9inmg abt joel and joel hears him and goes "alsways talking abyt m,e eefo"

joel and etho are talki9ng and theres a camle and etho goes "joel mjust reallt like camels ciuz they goit the loonnnggg necks" and joel syags "oh for goodness sake" (ilobve when joel says oh for goodness sakes its like one of his mottos ayt tjis poibgt it so funny )

thatys all i camn remeber i migjt add mre when i thin k of it

thanks for taking the time to read this if u did (and u even could, oops) i doubt many people will make it down this far with reading it, so congrats i guess!! you get.. nothing-

[malarkeyrambles]

deep rock galacticglyphid post

drg is my latest hyperfixation i think i love this game so mcuh ive been thinking aboutthe glyphids a lot and their biology im not super knowledgable on bio i just really like the topic so i might get a ton of stuff wrong but idc disclaimer: because glyphids evolved seperately from earthbeings (duh cuz they're on hoxxes not earth) any similarities to earth creatures is most likely just convergent evolution extraterrestrial life could be extremely similar like the glyphids or completely different its all speculative. anyway, first things first: Bone Game

ok lets look at the glyphid grunt for a sec. Glyphids have two body segments, a head and an abdomen, and eight legs. Their front legs are usually enlarged for burrowing, attacking, and defending. These vary in size and shape depending on the bug. (most glyphid variants look like they have three body segments, such as the grunt shown above, but i believe that its just a protruding jaw as when it moves its head its entire body moves with it, and the Warden specifically has a much more obvious two-segment body plan due to its lack of sharp teeth and massive size difference in body and head) They may or may not have eyes, indicating that eyes were a trait they lost when they went underground. What separates them from spiders is their size, ability to vocalize, their eusocial hierarchy, and the fact that they probably have bones. Earth spiders are invertibrates, like all arthropods. We haven't seeen a glyphid skeleton completely before, but there is a lot of evidence pointing towards their true bony nature. They dont have typical exoskeletons that cover the entirety of the animal. They have "chitinous armor plating" as described by the bestiary that resembles more the armored back of a crocodile than an actual exoskeleton. This plating can be removed in battle and not impair the glyphid's movement, in stark contrast to an earth bug which if you removed its exoskeleton it would just be a pile of bug organs. Exoskeletons double as their skin. Also glyphid sw

armers have no armor and still are fine moving around. They also have defined teeth and jaws, unlike the mandibles on an earth arthropod.

(peeled glyphid grunt guard)

(glyphid swarmer with teeth and jaw visible) Lastly, and I'm not too sure on this one, but i dont believe an exoskeleton made of chitin could hold up a glyphid, yet alone some of the bigger ones. Praetorians are the size and weight of a midsize SUV, and they're not even the biggest glyphids get.

Solitary vs Eusocial

If you got this far you're autistic about animals like me and probably know what eusocial means. If you don't, it just means there's a queen and workers. Think ants, wasps, and bees. While it's generally a consensus that most glyphids are eusocial under one Queen (we'll talk about her later), I think not all of them are. The bestiary says that glyphids are a genus, not a species, meaning that different glyphids can evolve seperately from one another and can be able to live independently instead of in a caste system. Of these, I think the beasts most likely to be solitary are the Stalker, Menace, Stingtail, and Septic Spreader. These guys have extra tools and divergent behaviors (sneaking up behind you, digging around, keeping a distance to shoot projectiles) that seem, to me, like they are taking advantage of the fact you are preoccupied with the glyphid colony and trying to snatch you up as prey for themselves.

(from left to right) stingtail, septic spreader, stalker (below) menace

It also explains why, in some locations, there are random batches of glyphid eggs out and about. It could be this could be a clutch of one of the aformentioned solitary glyphid eggs, and all glyphids look the same when they hatch.

These swarmer nests could either be from the glyphid colony (we are in their territory, after all) or just a different variant of glyphid.

( the blue gem is not supposd to be in there usually, just the purple circles. I couldn't find a better picture.) insert super smooth segue into :

Glyphid Hierarchy

apologies for the crunchy image but i put together this tierlist to explain how I think the glyphid hierarchy works. The tierlist didn't have the stalker in it but it would have gone in solitary for reasons Ive mentioned.

Notes: Soldiers are specialized for fighting but they all have different roles. Slashers and exploders tend to flank and sneak up on their target, the latter being born literally just to die. Praetorians and oppressors are meant to soak up attention and, in our case, damage. Web and acid spitters are meant to take care of flying enemies ( probably mactera in the wild, but in our case it's dwarves on a zipline), and wardens support the ground enemies. the green baby glyphids that are in the solitary tier are called Glyphid Spawn, and they aren't actually a glyphid; rather, a fleshy monolith called a Brood Nexus (below) had taken the DNA of a Glyphid and created their own version of swarmers with it. icky.

Mutations and Anomalies

Certain bugs such as the Bulk Detonator, Dreadnought Hiveguard, and dreadnought twins are anomalies that either don't occur naturally or an unintentional byproduct of biology doin its thing. The Bulk detonator "is what happens when an exploder manages to not detonate during its volatile, and usually short, life." This description pretty much spells it out that these guys aren't supposed to exist.

also, look at their mangled faces and bulbous, pustuled bodies. Exploders are meant to be sent out and explode. I don't know what the glyphid colony does with these, but I don't think they let them stay. Too volatile, and positively humongous. They're the biggest glyphids by far and i think glyphids just wouldn't let them be.

I have no clue how the Crassus Detonator exists or how it turns an entire crater into gold when it explodes. The Dreadnought Twins are a Dreadnought that split into two in the cocoon. Assuming dreadnoughts pupate into queens (more about that below), it's likely that they would pupate into two queens, with possible ramifications outside of that (perhaps sharing energy in a cocoon means inhibited reproduction in some way?) I doubt they'd fight over power, because the dreadnought twins show impeccable teamwork when broken out, even to the point of one dreadnought will sacrafice some of it's health for the other if one gets too low.

dreadnought twins The Dreadnought Hiveguard is the closest we've got to actually seeing a Glyphid Queen. It's a dreadnought that's been baking for a while but hasn't gotten all the way there. It's impenetrable from everywhere and can spawn Sentinels to protect it. It then reveals three weakpoints on its face when all Sentinels are killed, and then reveals its booty weakpoint when the face weakpoints were deaded.

(from left to right) Hiveguard, Sentinels Because Sentinels don't come from the cocoon and dont spawn in any other area, my best guess about them is they lay dormant usually, letting the other glyphids fight. They only respond to the Queen, being her last line of defense. It'd make sense because the Hiveguard is the closest thing to a queen we've got, and it has a unique vocalization for summoning Sentinels.

Dreadnoughts, Praetorians, Queens, and Conservation

The glyphid dreadnought, at its base form, seems to be a grander Praetorian. They look similar, down to the tusks on their face, and even have similar attacks. They carry the same bite and slash that nearly all ground glyphids have, but they also have a projectile shot from the mouth.

(from left to right) Praetorian 3d Model, Dreadnought 3d Model If I had to guess, this could be a Royal Jelly Moment. To explain, lets look at earth honeybees. These guys are fed a substance called "royal jelly" as a larva until they are fed honey. Certain workers, though, are fed and fed and fed and even have the walls of their honeycomb cell lined with the stuff. These workers end up becoming juvenile queen bees and they start their own colony. Given the fact that Oppressors are canonically "aggresively mutated Praetorians", I believe they are simply praetorians that weren't fed Royal Jelly. Their armor grows, and their weakpoint abdomen shrinks.

In the game, it's heavily implied that the glyphids are without a Queen (the voiceline "Die like your mother did!" when killing glyphids comes to mind), and the only time we ever see a Dreadnought is in a cocoon, outside of the rare times it spawns on an unrelated mission. We are told explicitly that these guys arent in their final form and they will pupate into something much worse if we don't stop them, and there seem to be a lot of cocoons around. (There are 2-3 cocoons a mission and there is always an elimination mission available.) What i think is happening is Praetorians are mutating into Dreadnoughts which are further trying to mutate into Glyphid Queens to fill the empty spot in the glyphid hierarchy and they want to spew out so many glyphids that the mining operations on Hoxxes has to close down. This has a lot of implications. Firstly, glyphids are so plentiful without a queen. Imagine how insane they'll get with one. Secondly, glyphids are numbered. They aren't being replaced and DRG is killing hundreds of them a mission, potentially thousands on Deep Dives and Elite Deep Dives. (I tried an elite deep dive earlier today, got to about 897 dead glyphids on the third mission which i inevitably failed). Thinking about this really puts into perspective the damage DRG is doing to Hoxxes in the pursuit of more money and resources, polluting it with depleted uranium and plasma radiation and drill fumes and omoran heartstone lazerbeam juice and abandoned mining equipment, sucking it dry for its resources, and actively killing the rest of the wildlife that havent died from habitat loss. Glyphids are not the villain of this story. They are just following their instincts. It reflects how real-world corporations simply don't care about the earth that gives it its wealth and gives us life. I didn't mean for this rant to end the way it has, but please be grateful for the earth you stand on, appreciate nature, and don't litter. Also, if you haven't, play Deep Rock Galactic. solid game.

if only there was some salute or chant i could say to end this with a bang, one involving rocks, or stones, or something

[historyofguns]

The article, written by Randall Chaney for "The Armory Life," reviews the Bear & Son Double Clutch IV Out-the-Front (OTF) knife, a product from the Bear OPS division of the Bear & Son Knife company, based in Jacksonville, Alabama. The review highlights the knife's automatic-opening mechanism and evaluates its functionality, detailing the smooth double-action feature where a sliding trigger extends and retracts the blade automatically. Chaney emphasizes the knife’s quality, mentioning its D2 tool steel blade, known for its edge retention and toughness. However, he advises prospective buyers to check local laws regarding ownership and use of automatic knives. The article also provides a hands-on perspective, demonstrating the knife's effectiveness in everyday tasks like cutting paracord and cardboard while appreciating its grip and stainless steel detailing. The review concludes by assessing its user-friendliness for everyday carry and comments on its affordability compared to retail prices. Chaney also compares it to larger models like the Bear & Son American 502D Bowie, underscoring the brand's consistent quality control across different knife models.

[bullet-prooflove]

Is she alive? prompt with crockett marcel

(i hope ive submitted this right it’s in prompt list 6)

Tagging: @Cosmic-psychickitty @anime-weeb-4-life @upsteadlogic @mortal--soul @Thebewingedjewelcat

Reference to One Day

Crockett’s world is crashing in on itself, there’s a loud ringing in his ears and his hands are shaking as he sits outside operating theatre trying to pull together the threads of the past two hours of his life.

You’d been working late tonight when he’d dropped by to pick you up from your office. It’s something he’s been doing since the photographs started arriving, the ones with the notes attached that said ‘die bitch’. He knew something was wrong when you hadn’t picked up the phone and everything after that it comes in fragments.

The shattered glass, the last of blood on his tongue, you lying there amongst the yellow rose petals, your blouse soaked with crimson. He’s tried his best to stop the bleeding but you’d lost so much blood.

“Two gunshot wounds to the chest.” He’d told the paramedics when they’d arrived. “She’s been unresponsive since I got here.”

It’s Mitch’s wife that pries him away from you, that draws him to one side so that Gabby and her can do their jobs. He loses track of everything after that, he rides ambo with you clutching your hand in his, whispering to you in Farsi, his voice thick with emotion. He tells you that he loves you, that he can’t imagine his life without you. When you’re rushed into surgery, it’s with Dean Archer, a man whose spent his entire career patching up war wounds. He refuses to let Crockett in the observation room, Hannah has to intervene, forcing him into the doctor’s lounge to wait for the police to arrive.

It’s after he’s given his statement and they’ve taken the clothes he was wearing that he’s allowed back to the waiting area. Hannah sits with him, her hand clasping his as he stares at the wall re-reading the sign on cleanliness over and over and over again because he doesn’t re-live the image of you bleeding out all over that carpet.

His head snaps up when Dean steps through the double doors, he can’t read the expression on the other man’s features as he raises to his feet. His heart pounds in his chest as he steps towards him.

“Is she alive?” He asks, his voice breaking.

“Yea.” Dean says, his hand coming to rest on Crockett’s shoulder. “Your girl, she’s gonna make it.”  

Love Crockett? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[jeysbvck]

seven (not really) sentence sunday!

tagged by @sznofthesticks thank u bff 🧡

from an adrian chase wip ive had in my docs for years (okay so it was for a different fandom & i changed it to adrian)

***

“Oh yeah, she's definitely not fine.” Adrian commented. “When were you gonna mention you'd been stabbed?”

"When was the right time? When we were fighting off those men, or maybe when I was hanging off the edge?!" You fired back. Your breathing was jagged now, the deep, searing pain was taking over, like a parasite burrowing inside you.

"Maybe instead of arguing with Adrian, you could have mentioned it." Leota piped up through the earpiece. You opened your mouth to respond, but instead, you let out a piercing scream, doubling over in agony, clutching at your stomach.

"Fuck, okay guys, you gotta come get us right now. I swear if she dies on me, she always said she'd make it look like I did it and -"

Adrians voice was distorted. It sounded like an old vinyl being played in slow motion. You had absolutely no idea how you were still on your feet, truthfully. You took deep breaths and looked up at Adrian, but you couldn't make out his features. He was just one large blur.

"Adrian, I'm fine." You repeated. You blinked a couple of times, an attempt to restore your vision.

"You don't look fine." Adrian said. "Actually, you look like you're about to faint."

"Mhmm, I think you're gonna want to catch me."

no pressure tags; @afterdarkprincess @harmshake @maplefire18 @crxssjae 💙

[whumpetywhump]

Bad And Crazy (2021)

Ryu Su Yeol

01:

- Nightmare: Bleeding from multiple wounds on his face, chest and back during a fistfight, punched repeatedly in the face and gut, staggering, disorientated

- Tackled to the ground, winded, holding his back in pain

- Thrown into a wall, choked with a shower cord, sprayed with hot water, bruises on his face and back, punched in the face, knocked out, falls into a pool, unconscious underwater, later has a plaster on his nose

- Repeatedly headbutted until he passes out, wakes up with a headache

- Drunk, nauseous, vomiting

- Punched repeatedly in the face and gut, bloody lip, has his ankle stepped on, screaming in pain, blasted backwards by an explosion, punched in the gut, collapses to his knees

- Thrown into a burning building, jumps from a window to escape, lands on a car, winded

02:

- Wakes up in hospital after last episode, face cut and bruised

- Recurring migraines, wincing in pain

03:

- Restrained, forced to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills, choking, blurred vision, migraine, collapses and passes out

- Crushed under a shelf, briefly knocked out, face scratched

- Bleeding from a gash in his hand after his alter grabs a knife, has it bandaged for him

- Forced to kneel, grovel and drink excessive amounts of alcohol, later vomiting and sobbing

04:

- Hand still bandaged from last episode

- Punched in the gut, slammed through a table, winded, struggling to get up, beaten up in a fistfight, face bruised and bloody

- Punched in the face, nosebleed

- Sleep deprived, dizzy, stumbling, helped into a chair, wakes up after passing out with an IV

05:

- Punched in the face, bloody lip

- Trying to recover suppressed trauma during hypnosis, wakes with a start

- Stabbed in the neck with a syringe, drugged, staggering, collapses, kicked in the gut, passes out, wakes up bound to a chair, gagged, kicked in the chest and falls with the chair, gun held to his head, terrified

06:

- Nauseous, vomiting

- Repeatedly stabs himself in the arm with a needle to replicate track marks

- Hit over the head with a plank of wood, collapses, groaning in pain

- Beaten up, face bruised, bleeding from the forehead

- Locked in the back of a truck with a gas leak, weak and dizzy

07:

- Face still cut and bruised from last episode

- Shot in the chest while wearing Kevlar, knocked to the ground

- Pistol whipped, cuts his forehead, has the wound dressed for him

- Recovering suppressed memories of childhood abuse, dreams of being chased and of clutching his chest in pain

08:

- Still dreaming, curled up on the floor in terror, wakes in a panic

- Flashback to childhood abuse, migraine, doubled over in pain

09:

- Recovering suppressed trauma, migraine, clutching his head, staggering

- Held down in a bucket of water, struggling, gasping

- Stabbed in the gut, bleeding, collapses, left for dead

10:

- Still bleeding on the ground from last episode, wheezing, collapses and passes out, wakes up in hospital, wincing in pain

- Beaten up, face bloodied, suffering traumatic flashbacks

11:

- Strangled with a garotte, choking, gasping

- Tackled, pinned to the ground, choked

- Wrongfully accused, arrested, locked in a psychiatric ward for four months

12:

- Flashback: Admitted to the psych ward in a straight jacket, struggling, forced to swallow his medication, repeatedly attempts to escape, drugged via a syringe during one attempt, shot with a taser during another

- Transported in a straight jacket via ambulance, escapes

- Reunited with his demented mother, crying in her arms

- Migraine, traumatic flashbacks

- Stabbed in the neck with a syringe, drugged, dizzy, struggling to stay awake, stabbed in the gut, collapses, left to die in a burning building, escapes, immediately beaten up in a fistfight, bloody lip, cuts his forehead while headbutting his opponent, bleeding heavily, collapses

- Says goodbye to his alter, crying

- Wakes up in hospital, face bruised and bandaged

Oh Gyung Tae

01:

- Brutally beaten, face badly bruised

- Hit over the head with a lamp, thrown into a table, beaten until bloody, stabbed in the thigh with a nail, screaming in pain, splashed with gasoline and left to die in a fire, found unconscious, rescued

02:

- Comatose in hospital after last episode with a neck brace and his head bandaged, face still cut and bruised

03:

- Still comatose and bruised

04:

- Face still bruised, escapes from the hospital after an attempted poisoning, on the run

- Repeatedly beaten with a golf club, face bloodied, screaming in pain, wheezing, repeatedly punched in the face and kicked in the gut, barely conscious, recovering in hospital, wounds bandaged, arm in a sling

TW: Contains themes of child abuse and suicide

[hanasnx]

"scuffling."

MINORS DNI 18+

WC: 0.8k | CHARACTERS: carmy berzatto x gn!reader NOTES: for @mcondance i do not write for carmy, pls do not talk to me about him. i just felt generous enough for a gift and ive seen the first season of the bear and a bit of the second. WARNINGS: sexual content | severe impact play | violence | not proofread | not 100% confident on carmy's characterization | no y/n

CARMY BERZATTO knows he's got a lot of shit going on in his head. Too much to keep track of, stray thoughts that can't be pinned down. When he's overwhelmed, everything's heightened. Like an attack dog, a ringing in his ears calls him back to his trainer. Except he's got no trainer, he's got no one. He's got him. It's not that that ringing makes him aggressive, it's not a Pavlov, that ringing reminds him of how he gets when he's angry. Exasperation layering over itself, building the tsunami. He's been told he's a dick, that he's a real asshole when he gets like this. But no one else is inside his head.

Not like you, anyway. You're about as close as they come, and you don't even know it. He doesn't know how you do it. You absorb that wrath— and you may come out swinging— but you never leave the kitchen. Miraculously, you don't quit. Even when he thinks you should. Even after he's thrown your experimental crème fraîche onto the floor. You hounded after him, but you still got your ass back to work.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, one more time. Just to be sure. Even though he's boiling over, arms pulsing as he forms fists and shakes them out.

You don't give him an answer. Behind the Beef it's dark out, but you've waited all day to give him a piece of your mind. Well, a piece of you at least. The entire power of your body is put behind a punch, but he jerks out of the way. The knuckle of your thumb grazes the skin of his cheek, and now he's in your space. Rough hands shove at your chest, slamming your back into the concrete wall. The bones of your spine rattle against it, and you reorient too late. He grabs your shoulders, bringing you in to connect his knee to your stomach. You double over, clutching it.

Through strain, you manage a chuffed, "Fuck you, Carmy,"

"Fuck me? Fuck me? C'mon," That roar in his ears is unbearable, driving his actions, taunting you with beckoning hands. In his distraction, you throw another punch that he, again, dodges. "Haven't learned—" His own grunt interrupts him as the point of your elbow sling-shots into the back of his head. Falling forward, his eyes squeeze shut, but he runs into you. So his arms wrap around your torso as he goes down, his shoulder sinking into your chest as you land underneath him on the ground. It's cold, it's hard. Your head aches.

He picks himself up, straddling you. Adrenaline imbued within your beings, blood rushing to fill out everything. Every vein itching to be stretched and used. You weakly claw at him that, for the most part, he redirects by slapping your wrists away. When you get a hold of the straps of his apron, you yank him down, and he catches himself over you. The heels of his hands dig into grovel, scratching up his skin. In a last ditch effort, you jerk your head up, forehead-to-forehead, both of you suffer after impact. A joint groan of pain sounds between the two of you, and in his haze you roll him over. You see red, pressing your lips into a thin line, blowing hot air through flared nostrils. A pink mark blooms on his skin where your heads connected, and your fists bang against his chest.

It becomes a game of rolling around in the fucking dirt and grime, filthying yourselves in the scuffle. Until in between hitting each other, you're tearing at clothes. Prying open buckles and buttons. Fingers brace onto your hips, restricting your movements, burning you from his grip as you take it upon yourself to mount him. In the middle of this fucking alley, you're sinking down onto his cock. And when he tells you to quit fucking around, you grace him with a resounding slap.

His large hand plants on your face, shoving you backwards unceremoniously. "Watch it!" he tells you. His teeth bite into the skin past his lower lip as he throws his head back.

"Shut the fuck up." you chide, resuming the rhythm of your hips. Acting like you fucking needed this as you double over, fisting his shirt for purchase, winding your fingers in it tight as you ride him. He palms your tailbone, slamming you down deep onto him.

"I should fucking kill you—" Your hand claps against his mouth to quiet him.

"I don't wanna fucking hear your voice right now, just take it."

[thegirlwholived1213]

Hello! You don't have to answer this but- can we get Appendicitis part two pretty please? It's really interesting

Of course! thanks Anon, I am really excited about this one! Hope this satisfies! :)

Here's Pt. 1 Here's Pt. 3

Appendicitis Pt. 2

CW: Vomiting mention, appendicitis symptoms, hospital setting

"Villian.....Villain...... Villain!"

Villain returned to consciousness all too soon, Hero gently shaking their shoulder. As soon as they came to full conscience, they squeezed their eyes shut again, the pain having managed to seem to have doubled since the dark of unconsciousness took them into her depths. Villain brought their hands to gently cradle their abdomen, seeking any form of relief.

"Woah, woah slow down, you'll make it worse."

"I- I d-don't care... just m-make it stop." Villain pleaded.

"Look, I'm trying, but you need to stay quiet, we're almost there."

"Almost whe-" Villain tried to argue but cut themselves off, a wave of nausea washing over them. Hero watched their face pale, sinking to their knees and guiding Villain over the pavement just before they lost the contents of their stomach. Hero watched with concern, unsure of what to do. They had never seen Villain so vulnerable, so... ordinary.

Hero scoured their memories, recalling a week in middle school when they had stayed home from school because of nausea. They remembered their mother gently rubbing her hand over young Hero's back and found their own hand doing the same for Villain who had shrunk against them, body quivering. They stayed there for a few moments, Villain's shaking only increasing as Hero stood again and kept their brisk pace down the streets and alleys.

Villain managed to keep most of their pains behind gritted teeth, occasionally releasing a wince or whimper.

"I know, I'm keeping as steady as I can," Hero apologized as they neared a tall building with tinted windows and black push-through doors, "But if we don't hurry your appendix could burst, and then everything gets so much worse. You won't make it to a hospital, so I guess the team and I will have to handle this ourselves. You'll need immediate surgery."

"S-surgery?! N-no let me...let me go- mph.." Hero pulled Villain closer, their weak protests doing little as Hero placed a hand over their mouth.

"Nonsense, this isn't negotiable."

They walked through the doors, Villain's eyes flicking around wildly as they clutched their stomach. Different members of Hero's team walked back and forth. A few Villian recognized, but most he'd never seen before. It was humiliating, really. Their nemesis carried them from room to room as the stabbing agony only managed to worsen, and Villian didn't even feel the tears until they dripped onto Hero's shirt and their own hands. They tried to focus on the conversations rippling around them, to examine Hero's team and their expressions, but their vision started to blur and swirl. All the details started to fade until a silence filled their ears. Hero lay them down on a table and Villian let their head fall back against the metal.

A bright light flicked on above their head and they squinted, whimpering at the sudden change.

"Okay Villian, this strap is going to go over your chest, just to make sure you don't fall off, okay?"

VIllian managed a weak nod and heard the Velcro tear away from itself as Hero pulled it over their chest.

"h-hero-"

"Shh, breathe." VIllian felt the silicone of a mask move over their nose, and the smell of gas filled their lungs. Another person took their arm and began running a cotton swab over the middle of their forearm. They could faintly hear Hero counting in the background, the black around their vision pulling in.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six........"

Villain's eyes closed just before five, and Hero watched their body go slack. Medic inserted the IV, and Hero began prepping for surgery when Sidekick came in the room. Hero motioned for them to help with the scrubs and they did so, tying the loops behind Hero's head.

"Why are you helping them, again? They don't deserve saving." Sidekick growled, shooting a glare toward Villian's limp form. Hero pulled the mask over their nose, eyes flicking to the scar on Sidekicks jaw before responding.

"They may not, but if we don't try it makes us just as villainous."

Lmk if you'd like a Pt. 3! I really like where this one is going! :)

[butchviking]

ppl are always saying that the most important thing with """mental health""" (they mean mental illness) (no, they mean depression and anxiety) (no, they just mean emotional wellbeing i think) is to talk to ppl about it. but like. sorry how does that help tho. maybe this is just whatevers wrong w me talking but for real how the fuck does it help to actually tell ppl the actually bad stuff in ur head. like i think it's good 2 be able to say stuff in passing and for everyone to not clutch their pearls if u joke abt killing urself or whatever like its good to not have to actively dig it down and repress it. its good to b able to say "ive been bad lately" or whatever and move past it. but genuinely honest to god does anyone in this whole wide world actually feel better after they tell the people who care about them abt their serious emotional problems in any significant detail. its not going to fix anything! its not going to solve anything! "a problem shared is a problem halved" no!!! its a problem doubled!!!! now you feel bad AND the person u told abt it feels bad bc they wish they could make u better and they can't!!