#they’re lock shock and barrel!!

[goblin-a-gogo]

The kids are trick or treating together!! ft. @katusjuice (Anais) and @lyalyagushkina (Misty)

#I know it’s not halloween yet but idc #I LOVE halloween #they would definitely go trick or treating together #they’re lock shock and barrel!! #also thank y’all for drawing my ocs with yours I get such a huge kick out of it #I love that laz has friends :> #art #digital art #my art #metalocalypse #lasagna #lasagna the not drummer #metalocalypse oc #pickles the drummer #dethklok #toki wartooth #nathan explosion #misty #anais

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Five stages of grief | TF141 + König + Keegan

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Reflections - The Neighbourhood

Synopsis: How the boys will cope with your death after a mission gone wrong following the five stages of grief, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Word count: 2.099

Masterlist

Inspired by an acting challenge @ simplyagh0st has created on tiktok, check him out he does great content if you haven't!

"falling just as hard, I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody"

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has gone through so much hurt already. He promised himself that he wouldn’t let anyone close to his heart,  and just rip it out again. But once you came along and managed to tear down his walls, he made a vow to himself to keep you safe, to make sure he doesn’t have to go through loss, again. 

During the mission, your position gets overwhelmed by enemies. Backup is only a couple of minutes away. The team is split up, you are together with Simon, fighting off waves of enemies. Simon has unknowingly turned his back on an enemy while trying to help you. You’re his priority and he discards his own safety. You see the barrel of the gun facing his back. Not saying a word, you run up to him and turn him around. Not expecting the movement, he easily moves with you. Effectively swapping places with you. The shot rings out and pierces you through the heart. You start collapsing to the floor. He manages to catch you before you meet the ground. He pulls his pistol out of the holster and shoots the enemy with no hesitation.

He sets your body down on the floor gently. Your backup arrives and helps Simon clear out the enemies. As he looks at the dead bodies around him, he can’t help but stare at you. He’s a seasoned soldier. He knows you are dead and that nothing can help you.

As days go on without you by his side, slowly his misery turns into anger. He hates the fact that you put yourself in front of a bullet that was meant for him. He hates the fact that he failed to protect you. He hates that he got so distracted with keeping enemies away from you that he failed to notice the enemy pointing a gun at him. He hates that he let his walls down again, and let someone break his heart again. He gets colder by the day, not giving a damn for anyone or anything. He’s on a mission, to kill every single person involved in that mission that’s on the other side of your guns. He may have failed in protecting you, but he’ll be damned if he fails at this too.

"I see my reflection in your eyes.."

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish can’t believe how much of a fuck up he is. He promised you, that whenever you are around him. He’ll keep you safe. No matter what. So when he sees your empty eyes staring up at him. He can’t help but feel so guilty. He’s used to seeing his reflection in your eyes. Eyes that were so full of life, and now they’re lifeless. All because he broke his promise to you. He just stares at your body in shock. One second you were fine, even joking around with him. The next second you’re gone and he failed to protect you.

They had to drag him off of your dead body. When they put a white sheet over you, that’s when he finally stopped fighting. He had no other choice than to accept you’re dead. He wouldn’t leave your side. Even at death. He’s locked himself up in his room after getting discharged. Price said he’s a liability and that he should take some time off. But really all it did was shut him off even more. He feels so alone in your shared bedroom. Once full of laughter are now fleeting memories. He spends his day in bed, reminiscing and crying. He wants to be angry, he wants to avenge you. But he’s just so goddamn tired. His reflection staring back at him through your lifeless eyes will forever haunt him.

The only time he leaves the house is to visit you. Even then, your cheerful Johnny is no more. He just stares at your tombstone in sadness, remorse, and regret. He thinks about all of the what-ifs. He knows you would hate to see him like this, but he feels like he has no other option. His light was and always will be you. Someone has taken his light away, and the tunnel is now a dark and lonely one

"we were too close to the stars, I never knew somebody like you"

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick has never expected the mission to go so awry. If anything, it was supposed to be one of the easier missions that the Task Force had to endure. So when he stares at you, lying limp on the cold hard ground. One thought is speeding through his mind. ‘No no no, she’s not dead. She can’t be dead.” Even though the signs are there, you are clinically dead. You aren’t breathing, heart stopped pumping the instant the explosion went off. Eyes staring blankly up at the sky. He rushes to you and reassures you as if you’re still alive.

“Hey, hey just keep your eyes open baby. Help is on the way.”

“You’ll be okay, you’re stronger than them.”

“Just hold on, you’re fine baby. It’s just a bruise.”

He repeats these things, both to you and him. As long as he can reassure himself that you are okay and still ‘alive’, everything will be alright. Despite the blood staining his clothes and covering his hands. He refuses to believe you are dead. Not when you are one of the most important people in his life if not the most important. You’re supposed to grow old and die together. Not abruptly by an explosion, not on the job. He has never met someone like you, someone so caring and kind-hearted. You’re a special one and he knows it.

Even as the medics put you on a stretcher and placed a white sheet over your body. Even when they pronounced you dead. He refuses to listen to them. Even when your casket gets lowered into the ground as they give you an honorary send-off. When they forced him to attend your funeral so that he won't regret it later. He still believes you are alive. Sometimes he can hear you call out to him, telling him you love him and that he should move on from you. On a few rare occasions, he swears he sees you standing before him. Or amongst the team on a briefing. And when he informs the team that you have returned, they just stare at him in pity. And repeat what they have been saying for weeks. “She’s dead and isn’t coming back.”

"(tell me you see it too..)"

John Price is a seasoned soldier. He has seen many things, things that he’d rather have not seen. But to keep the world clean, someone has to get their hands dirty. During his whole military, he has seen many comrades die, good people that didn’t deserve to die. Once he became captain he made sure that every one of his fallen brothers and sisters would get a proper and honorable send-off.

You are not an exception. Once he got the news that you’ve been KIA’d. His whole world stopped before it started turning again. His team needs him to be level-headed, not an emotional wreck. He can let his emotions out later in private. They retrieve your body from the field and bring it home. As you lay in the chopper, lifeless. He stares at you both in sadness and frustration. He knows you aren’t coming back. He’s frustrated that he couldn’t save you. Your eyes are still open, staring blankly back at him. He sighs as he closes your eyes, not bearing to see his reflection in your eyes. A reminder that he failed you, both as a partner and captain.

He was there during every step of the send-off. He made sure everything was perfect and that nothing could go wrong. You deserve to rest in peace. As the casket goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly peaceful as he watches you get lowered. He’s there until midnight, talking endlessly with your tombstone. Until he’s forced to leave you, so he can prepare for his next mission. Dealing with the bastards, and everyone involved that took you from him.

‘At least she’s free from the horrors of this world.’ He thinks to himself. From now on, he’ll strive to keep the world clean. So that you can forever lay one with the earth in peace. It’s the least he could do for you now that you can’t do it yourself. Maybe one day he’ll join you. But for now he’s content with the fact you no longer have to suffer.

"maybe it's a blessing in disguise?"

König has been spiralling since that mission, the mission where you did not return like you said you would. He regrets sending you on that mission for KorTac. He unknowingly sent you on a suicide mission. The worst part is, they never found your body. It makes him sick to think about what happened to it. He hates the way he can’t even put you to proper rest, where you want to be buried if something were to happen. He rereads the mission file over and over. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve seen it coming from a mile away and perhaps he could’ve warned you. But the times he rereads it he realizes that there was nothing that could’ve been done for you. Every outcome would’ve likely ended with you dying. It revolts him to think he sent you to your death.

Your shared home feels so cold and lonely without your presence. He takes care of the garden for you, he waters your indoor plants. You always made him a fruit salad while he worked in his office. So he does it himself. But instead of using his favourite fruits, he makes them with your favourite. Hoping that one day, you’ll come home and join him, sharing a fruit salad together as you used to do. He heads to the cemetery daily, where your empty casket is buried. Sometimes, he’ll come with a small bowl of fruit salad. 

“I’ve got your favourites, meine Taube.” 

“Bitte, come home. Your plants miss you, I can’t take care of them as well as you do.”

“I wish I never sent you on that verdammt mission.”

As he speaks softly to your tombstone, a white dove perches on top of it. He looks at it as it reminds him of you. He watches as the dove takes your favourite fruits from the bowl and eats it. Eventually, it picks up the pieces of his favourite fruit and drops them on his hand. He chuckles lightly, “welcome home, Liebe.”

"falling just as hard, I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody"

Keegan Russ was already torn with the death of Ajax. But when Rorke did the same to you. His whole world crumbled. When they found out Rorke had a kill list for the Ghosts. He made a vow to himself to keep you safe, no matter what. So when Rorke captured you, he was furious. But he still had confidence in getting you back home to him. He was so close, yet so far. He realizes it’s a repeat of what happened to Ajax. That just spurred him on more to get you back faster.

But when he came face to face with Rorke. He spots your limp body behind Rorke. Oh, he so wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face, but his priority is you first and foremost. “What did you do?!” Keegan screams out in rage. When that smirk got wider, he was so tempted to put a bullet in between his eyes right there and then. “I crossed off a name on the list.” All Keegan sees is red. Rorke throws your lifeless to him.

Keegan catches your body and slumps to the floor. Rorke sees this as an opportunity to escape, and right now Keegan doesn’t give a shit. He clutches your body closer to him. Hating the way your cold skin touches him. Hating all the dried-up blood and bruises. You suffered, and he couldn’t help you. He screams in both rage and agony. He gently puts you down before trashing the room you were held in. He throws things left and right. He tears down papers from the walls.

At your funeral, he wasn’t any better. If anything, his body was running on pure adrenaline and rage. Once he gets his hand on Rorke. He will show him the wrath that he has bestowed upon him. He can’t help but continuously for not being there to protect you. He stares at your tombstone in anger. ‘How did I let you slip through my fingers?’ That is all he can think about. You were gone, because he was too late. That thought will forever linger in the back of his mind.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #gaz #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price #john price x reader #price #price x reader #könig x reader #könig #konig #konig x reader #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan #keegan x reader #cod mwii #cod ghosts

[solarmorrigan]

80s Vampire Movie Steddie AU

No listen hear me out

Steve is working the closing shift Friday night at Family Video (open until midnight. Fucking awful if you ask Steve)

It’s just after eleven and it’s been a surprisingly quiet night. It looks like he might actually get out of here on time for once, instead of being held up by annoying, indecisive customers who leave the store a mess

Aaaand he spoke too soon, because someone just came barreling in through front doors, panting and wild-eyed like they’re being chased by the hounds of hell (or the cops)

(Why do the weird ones always come in on Steve’s shift?)

But then Steve does a double take, because he actually recognizes this guy. Long hair, patched vest, chains–

“Munson?”

It is indeed Eddie Munson, resident drug dealer and fucking nerd of Hawkins High. He’d been doubled over, hands on his knees while trying desperately to catch his breath, but Steve’s voice seems to shock him back into action; he scrambles for the front doors and turns the lock with fumbling fingers

Shit

“Hey, man,” Steve says slowly, watching as Eddie backs away from the doors again, “I don’t want any trouble.”

Eddie looks at Steve for the first time since entering the store, and Steve is simultaneously reassured that he’s not about to be robbed, and put on edge by whatever put that look of terror on Eddie’s face

“There’s–” Eddie gasps, still trying to get his breath back, “There’s something after me!”

“Something? Like what? Like– like a dog?” Steve rounds the counter to stand by Eddie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up (he still remembers those fucking vicious junkyard dogs he and Dustin’s friends had run into when they’d been out searching for Dustin’s cat; Steve still can’t hear barking without jumping a little)

“No, man.” Eddie shakes his head hard, hair flying. “It was – It was like–”

“Dude, spit it out.”

“Okay, look, I was doing a deal. Met my buyer at the park, next street over, right? And we’re just finishing up when this – he just looked like a guy, he walked up, and I thought we were busted, but instead, he – it–” Eddie swallows hard. “It grabbed my buyer and fucking – it ripped her fucking throat out.”

“What?”

“It had these crazy red eyes and fucking fangs and I think it was, like– drinking her blood?” Eddie’s voice is shrill, clearly still panicked, but all of Steve’s alarm quickly plummets into annoyance

He might not be a pop culture nerd, but the kids have forced him to sit through Fright Night enough times for Steve to know where this is going

“Drinking her blood, huh?” Steve asks flatly. “Like a vampire.”

“I fucking guess!” Eddie shouts, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, man, I think you’ve been hitting your own stock a little too hard. Just take a couple of deep breaths and–”

“Harrington, I’m not making this up!” Eddie snaps, rounding on Steve. “I’m not fucking hallucinating, there’s something out there!”

Holding his hands up placatingly, Steve nods. “I know you’re freaked out right now, but there’s no such thing as vampires.”

“Tell that to the girl whose fucking throat just got ripped out!”

“Munson–”

The argument is interrupted when someone—or something—slams against the front doors

#summer is campy vampire movie season man I don't make the rules #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #but listen I specify 80s vampire movie because they just have a certain vibe y'know? #everyone in those movies was fucking unhinged and it showed. it was good #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[deadlynavigation]

A Night At The Inn

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Light stalking, mention of gangs, only one bed

Author's Note: what even is season 2

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

It’s a quiet night in Ketterdam.

Well- as quiet as it can be.

The occasional gunshot goes off, shocking the night air with the sharp noise. Drunk exclamations bounce off the cobblestones. And on the edge of it all, waves lap at their shores, washing away any trace of the day with murky saltwater.

This air, this atmosphere, is unbroken. It’s free to control the Barrel, free to control all of Ketterdam.

But like most things, its control is corrupted.

A pair of criminals stroll through the city, inviting an aura of tension that smothers the calm. The man seems anxious, his face set in a deep grimace. His steps seem uneven; perhaps a worry-induced tilt. The woman follows him closely behind, blending into the night as she drifts down the streets. However, she too is weighed down by an anxious air, her steps losing some of their stealth as she slowly gets swallowed by panic.

Meanwhile, a group of burly men take up the street behind the two. They’re dangerous-looking, the type to go after anyone who does them wrong. Gang members, too, if the matching tattoos on their necks say anything.

As they stalk closer to the pair, the woman turns to the limping man. He says nothing, only glancing swiftly back at her and picking up the pace. This does little to soothe her nerves. She glares at him, murmuring a worried statement while trying to gauge just how long they have before the gang reaches them.

He glares back, and after a minute of this staring contest, he nods sharply at an inn just down the street.

“Thank you,” she whispers. The man doesn’t say anything, opting to simply duck into the inn. She sighs, following him in.

They walk quickly towards the clerk situated in front of a cluttered desk. “One room.” Kaz Brekker stands in front of the desk, demanding and intimidating. His voice, though soft, instantly sends the clerk into a fearful state.

“O-of course, sir,” He responds, shuffling through the mess of documents for an available room number. After a moment of awkward sorting, he looks back up at the pair, holding a semi-rusted key out to them with shaky hands.

“Room 107 for the night. U-um, and the walls are thin, a-and you have neighbors-”

Kaz cuts the clerk off before he can finish insinuating anything that may make the woman next to him uncomfortable.

“Keep quiet about this, or next week you’ll wake to your family’s corpses surrounding you, their blood coating your bed. And your daughter- Anya, was it? Will be the first to go.”

The clerk’s face pales significantly. Kaz snatches the key from him, walking towards the stairs. The woman, Y/n L/n, once again follows Kaz, ascending the stairs with a deadly grace.

“They’ll still be after us in the morning, Kaz. This doesn’t change that.” She whispers.

“But it keeps them away from the Slat.” Kaz says, focusing on getting up the stairs without putting his leg in too much pain. Finally, he reaches the last step, turning onto the floor with a slight wince. She, of course, picks up on this.

“Your leg.” Y/n points out.

“It’s fine.” He asserts, effectively ending the conversation. She narrows her eyes before letting it go, stopping once she reaches Room 107.

Kaz fits the key into the door, unlocking it before entering the room. Y/n strides in as well, closing and locking the door behind her. The room is silent after that, the only sounds made by Kaz getting ready for bed. He removes his gloves, then strips out of his coat and shirt, stepping up to the large bowl of water to wash off what his cruelty can’t.

Y/n steals a glance at Kaz’s bare torso, watching his every move for a minute before shaking off her light blush and moving to the empty dresser. She drops her extra layers on it before moving to where Kaz still stands, unbuttoning her shirt as she walks.

It doesn’t escape her notice that Kaz’s eyes dart to her exposed skin before he remembers himself.

She washes Ketterdam’s filth off of her quickly, staying a comfortable distance away from Kaz. Once they’re both finished, they retreat back to the bed, ready to collapse after the long day. Before that can happen, though, Y/n places a small knife on the chipped bedside table. Kaz follows suit, laying his cane against the bed frame.

“Pick your side.” Kaz states. Y/n looks over at him, confusion knitting her brows. She would have never thought Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, would care for her bedroom preferences.

“I don’t have a preferred side of the bed.” She lies.

Kaz pins her with a disbelieving glance, then moves his dark eyes back towards the bed expectantly. He wants an answer - that much is clear.

“...I’ll take the left.”

Minutes later, the two are in bed, shuffling around until each finds a comfortable position. The lights are out now, the streets outside the inn are quiet, and the blankets are at just the right angle where it isn’t too cold or too hot or too bunched to be of any use. It’s not long before Y/n and Kaz are facing each other, both half-asleep.

“Y/n,” Kaz whispers into the night. He squeezes his eyes shut right after, bracing himself for what he’s about to do.

It takes a minute for her to respond, breaking out of the sleepy haze. “Yeah, Kaz?”

“...” Kaz stops, breathing in deeply. He decides against words, opting instead to reach his hand out to her side of the bed.

Y/n watches his every movement. “Kaz, it’s been a long day. Are you sur-”

“I know.” He breathes in once more. “I want this.”

“Ok,” And all sounds fade away, leaving only the silence of the night to reign.

Slowly, slowly, Kaz’s hand extends to hers. She leaves her own open and still, waiting to greet him.

He slides his hand into her palm, and the world stops. Then he wraps his fingers around her hand, squeezing ever so slightly before relaxing into a loose grip.

“Good night, Kaz.” Y/n murmurs.

“Night,” Kaz breathes.

Their hands stay in each other’s hold until morning.

(Navigation)

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker fluff #shadow and bone #six of crows #only one bed #fanfiction #x reader

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲@luvlydeja 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐢𝐭🤭...

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 2020 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒 “𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑒“ 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑢𝑚 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑏𝑣𝑖, 𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 ♡︎ (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

❧𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬➬ this is absolutely nasty like I’m shocked at myself lmao, oof um let’s see, detailed kissing, hair pulling, flirting, google translate Italian, shorty gets positively pounded, flirting, teasing, unprotected s3x, manhandling, this is what happens in the hands of the h0rny and untrained😭🫵, lots of orgasms and consensual fun throughout ^^ 18+ MINORS GET OFF OF MY LAWN

“𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍...“

࣪𖤐๋࣭ ໒꒱✧. • 𐙚˙⋆.˚. .

Since he’d be staying in Italy for a while, or at least until he got all the interview material he needed, his first act of business would be to learn the language.

True, he could get a translator but it would be more authentic for him to learn since he’d be the one speaking and asking the questions.

Naturally, Gregory decided that a native speaker would be able teach him best.

Enter you.

He had walked into the convenience store you part timed at and instantly forgot what he was there for when he saw you. The prettiest thing in a sundress he’s ever seen, soft skin glowing with a slight sheen from the heat, your alluring features making his heart race faster the longer he looked at you.

You were talking to a customer in Italian, smiling and nodding in agreement before sharing a laugh with them. Gregory swore he’s never heard the sound warm spun silk but now he can say he officially has.

The words from your beautiful mouth flowed so effortlessly that he knew you would be perfect for him.

The old man who you were talking to was a regular, stopping by every Wednesday to entertain you with stories about his “sweetie baby wife” and how the world won’t stop at losing just their minds, they’re lucky he’s not in charge before buying some cigars and leaving with a lazy wave and wink.

Giggling, you wave back, shouting out after him.

“Vacci piano, ragazzo duro~!”

Smiling to yourself, you look from the door to the newspaper shelf only to lock eyes with a tall foreigner.

The first thing you notice besides his height was that he was insanely good looking. Rugged wasn’t quite the right way to describe his features because while they were sharp, he was just too pretty for that. Biting your lip, you noticed he was broad too; barrel wide chest and thick arms, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone as classically handsome as him.

You’re so busy ogling him that when he’s suddenly standing in front of you, you startle but regain your wit quickly. Deciding to talk first, but in English.

“What’ll it be boss man?” Flicking your eyebrow up with a playful smile as you lean forward behind the register.

Gregory’s blood rushes south at the way your accented voice addresses him with a flirty look in your big almond eyes. Inhaling sharply he can’t help but smirk back at you.

“I’m looking for a translator since I don’t know much of the language here”, he says.

Goddamn his voice was deep.

Nodding your head to play off how flustered he had you, you get an idea.

Hot guy who needed help learning a language that you just so happen to speak AND moan?

You’re in.

While you’re thinking, Gregory looks you over with all kinds of filth running through his head.

You’d look so good whining naked on top of him.

He could live between your thighs.

What would you sound like when he’s stretching you out and fucking you dumb?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the clearing of your throat.

“Well most translators overcharge but since I’m so sweet and if you want, I wouldn’t mind helping you out…?” Realizing you don’t know his name, he rushes to give it to you.

“Gregory.”

“Right. Maybe I could help you out, Gregory…what do you think?” Letting your tone go from intrigued to lilting as you tilt your head to the side, looking at him through your lashes.

You were an absolute dream to him.

Stepping closer to you, he leans down to your face; propped up on his elbows near your own on the register and looks down at you with lidded blue eyes before smiling roguishly.

“I would absolutely love that.”

And just like that the learning process began.

You had taught him things like conversation and structure, how and what to call everyone, transitions and connectors, extensive words, places, and even the slang. Learning from you was hard but the difficulty had less to do with the language and more about how badly he needed to make you cum.

There was always this underlying tension between you two since the moment you met; subtle at first but the steady pent up attraction had it leaking into a more than intense desire.

Constant touches, flirtatious looks, innuendos so obvious that they bordered on invitations then came the teasing.

Whispering in his hear the correct way to say something when he didn’t quite get it right, biting your plump lips when you’d smile at him, but the worst, was the way you’d say his name. Rolling the ‘r’ so sexily that more often than not, it had blood rushing straight to his cock.

Moments like now.

“See? Sei un talento naturale, Gregory. Very good”, you say. Praising him sweetly. You were flirting, have been for a while now and you made sure he knew.

But with the way he reacts to you? The undivided attention, the way he’d strip you with his eyes alone, licking his lips and nodding when he focused hard on what you would say, the lingering hugs and wandering hands, not to mention how close his face sometimes got to yours…

It was only a matter of time.

“No~. Questo è tutto tu, bebé.” The low timbre of his voice makes you break out in goosebumps as heat licks up your spine.

“Yeah? It’s all me?”

“Mhmm.”

“How do I know though?”

“Come vuoi che ti insegni?” (How do you want me to teach you?)

Oof. That’ll make your pussy throb-

“THAT, dipende dal tuo stile..” With that it’s now or never as the air becomes thick with tension.

“That’s fine. Mines is ‘hands on’.

And in one smooth motion, Gregory yanks you into his lap, slotting his mouth over yours in a deep kiss.

He fits his hands around your hips as he completely devours you, one hand moving to slide into your hair, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, the suction of his lips and yours soon give to him nipping your bottom lip before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

It’s so hot it makes you ache as heat soaks into your body and you moan desperately into his mouth. Gregory grips your hair tighter as he pulls it back to look at how pretty you look wanting and seals his mouth over yours again, swallowing your moans in the process.

Your cunt throbs as you hear him groan when he begins to sloppily lick into your mouth, his big tongue pressing against yours, rubbing his cool taste all over your pallet while you twitch and whimper in his strong grasp.

Sloppy wet kissing sounds along with your whimpers fill the room. The sounds would have made you embarrassed but you want him too bad and the way your tongues lazily swirled around each other’s, making more heat pool in your belly then drip down soaking your panties, made you forget about it.

Gregory groans into your mouth again before kissing you even hungrier to the point where you feel him in your throat as your eyes water in pleasure. You were starting need air but you don’t want it, not more than you want him.

He eventually pulls away and you gasp once your airway is free. The sudden influx of oxygen makes you dizzy as your clit throbs and you whine at him, begging with your teary glazed eyes for more.

Your whole body felt hot. The sensations were almost too good as you grind down on his fat length, moaning at the friction against your swollen clit while you unbuttoned Gregory’s shirt; becoming more desperate when you saw his happy-trail.

He pulls you back to his lips in another obscene kiss while you take his cock out, too desperate to take his pants off completely.

You freeze when you feel how big he is, eyes glazing over as you look down with a weak “oh.”

Gregory swears under his breath at your reaction, making a mental note to make you scream before kissing your ear.

“Sì? Babygirl likes seeing such a fat cock hmm?” He coos, making you gasp at his vulgarity.

“O-okay, if you don’t fuck me right now-“, was all you managed to get out before he lifted you to switch positions, you on your back before thrusting into your sopping cunt.

Your mouth drops open in a sharp moan at the stretch, the pressure almost killing you as you gasp and jerk underneath him. Determined not to cum so fast and make it last, but Gregory isn’t doing much better.

You looked so delicious under him, your back arched in pleasure as you cried out for him as he battered your sweet spots, warm and snug pussy drooling around his cock.

“Hnn - nnnnngghhhh!” The vulgar, borderline animalistic sound eventually forces its way through your gritted teeth when he finishes sliding home some moments later, your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head while your stuffed cunt sensitively flutters around the intrusion. He feels massive inside you. Not particularly long, but sufficiently wide enough to make it seem like he had you stretched right to the breaking point. It was simply too much, and your head lolls back in doped out bliss.

Fervently, your arms circle around his neck as he hunches over you so he can brace his hands on either side of your head, groaning as he moves his hips back before slamming them back in, setting a punishing pace as he fucks you.

You’re already toeing the line of a soul shattering orgasm just from having his cock bullied into you a second time, you toss your head back to peer up at him as if in a daze.

The whorish sounds coming from your throat drive Gregory crazy as he feels himself slip with how mind-tinglingly good you feel.

In a matter of moments he seems to be knocking that tender spot inside of you with near expert precision and you can’t quite catch your breath between helplessly bleating out in wordless ecstasy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight on me mami…wet little pussy..! Gonna cum all in you, stuff you full”.

You seize so suddenly it catches you off guard, so rattled at hearing that come out of his mouth that you clamp down on him, hard. You black out while your cunt is sent into a heated pulsing frenzy, wildly squeezing down on his cock so violently that it brings tears to your eyes. Tossing your head back again, you scream for him as you shake weakly through your mind numbing orgasm that you almost miss the moment your cunt erupts, spraying his front in arousal.

You screw your eyes shut with a keening shriek when a second spurt shoots out of you to further soak him but even then he doesn’t let up on the steady push and pull of his heavy girth along your palpitating cunt. Groaning into your mouth as he cums into your soaking heat, hissing through the waves of overstimulation. With no other option, you lie there and take it, your head a mess of static white noise that doesn’t clear up even when you finally start to come down from the high some moments later.

Boneless underneath him, you’re distantly aware of your shared release running down the sides of his cock in warm rivulets where he’s still wedged inside of you but you’re too drunk on satisfaction to care, kissing back weakly as he slips out.

No matter how hard you fight it, sleep overtakes you but one thing is for sure….

You can’t wait to teach him more♡︎. . .

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner smut #divine 2020 #divine movie #Gregory x reader #callum turner fanfiction #masters of the air #mota #smut #fluff #x reader #d!ck is a mission and I’m on it🫡 #permission to cook? #permission was granted🫡

[welcome-back-to-hoimycraf]

Gem let out a low groan as she stretched her arms over her head, wincing at the distinct POP of her back shifting back into place. She’d had a long day in her shop- some tourists passing through looking to try some local cuisine had sapped most of her energy for customer service work. Why they hadn’t decided to stop by Impulse’s soup stall instead of her dreary fish market, she had no idea. She was thankful for the business, at least. 

The fishmonger made sure to flip the sign in the window from Open to Closed before she clicked the lights off and made her way out the door. She only had to jingle with her keys for a moment before she heard the familiar click of the lock, turning to head off. She was already dreaming of a warm meal and a relaxing bath to soothe her aching muscles as she headed back. She’s gonna be sleeping hard tonight. 

The walk home was as it usually was, and thankfully not very far either. Both the lighthouse and the fish market were passed down through the family, as well as the house, so it would only make sense they would all be in about a ten minute walk from each other. 

As she listened to the rhythmic tapping of her boots against the docks, her mind wandered to a certain man across the river. She could see the dim light of his lantern flickering in the distance, and she wondered how long he’d been up. She could swear she’d seen it lit in the middle of the night yesterday. Had he been up since then? Maybe she should check up on him. She made up her mind, changing course to head down the beach and through the underwater tunnel between her and Scar’s. 

Grian was in the same spot as he had been for about a week now. He’d even thrown together a small fishing dock, which she gladly allowed. Who’d turn down more areas for boat traffic? She noted the barrels filled to the brim with fish and other trinkets pulled from the water behind him, as well as a couple piles of random items he probably put there to sort through. All in all, the area looked like a mess. Gem hoped he’d get around to cleaning up soon. 

Grian was still in his usual spot on the edge of the dock, already having his rod cast out. Or… rods? From where she was, Gem could see two lines stretched out into the water. Was he using two fishing rods? 

“Why do you have two?” She questioned the man as she stepped onto the wooden platform behind him.

He doesn’t flinch, even though he should have had no idea she was there. “Can you see- you see it?” He asked in disbelief as he turned his head to face her. His face was painted with the same confusion she was sure hers displayed as well. 

At this angle, she could clearly see that, no, he wasn’t using two rods- his line had split. “Why do you have two?” She reiterated, shouting. Gem continued, too shocked to lower her volume. “With one rod- that should be impossible!”

“You see it too? Okay, it’s not just me,” Grian chuckled as if nothing was wrong, turning back to the water. “Almost thought I was going mad!” He barked out, sounding more like an inside joke between him and himself.

Gem ignored his words, rambling on, “They’re both bobbing, they’re- they’re both catching fish?” She yelled in disbelief as she watched him reel in two fish at a time. He frowned at his catch, unhooking the wriggling creatures and placing them in the rapidly-filling barrel beside him. “You gotta take a break,” she urged, genuine concern dripping from her voice as she crouched next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. This has to be some kind of unhealthy obsession.

“No- I’m never- I’m never leaving,” he stuttered out (most likely from the sleep deprivation, she would guess) as he grinned smugly. 

“How are you even using them?” She interrogated, eyeing the lines’ unsynchronized bobbing.

Grian hummed, as if he’d never considered it. “I’m not quite sure I understand it, either, but I don’t wanna question it,” he giggled highly, which didn’t quell Gem’s concerns.

Footsteps coming up next to them interrupted the two. Gem glanced in their direction to see Etho on their way over. She assumed they’d stopped by her house, deciding to look around after not finding her at home. 

“Do you see this, Etho?” She asked as she watched them approach, checking for confirmation that both her and Grian weren’t crazy.

“Why does he have two?” They point at the rod, head tilting like a dog.

“I’m so good at fishing,” is Grian’s only answer.

“Oh, I gotta know how you did this,” they laughed, their voice filled with speculation at the sight in front of them. Gem’s almost certain they think this is some kind of ruse. 

“I don’t know how I did this!” Grian shouted defensively. “I dozed off and when I came back to, the line was like this!”

Gem and Etho look at each other. They raise an eyebrow and Gem only shrugs, no answer to be given. “Well, we’re not leaving until we figure this out,” she announces, stepping over and pulling a fishing rod from one of the piles where Grian had at least attempted to sort his loot. 

“Same here,” Etho chuckles, joining her in grabbing their own. 

Surprisingly, Grian doesn’t protest as they join him. Gem wonders if it’s sleep deprivation again. 

After a bit of silence, Etho pipes up. “So, what kind of good stuff have you gotten?” They hum, eyeing the small piles Grian had built up over time. 

“Go check it out,” the fisherman waves them over to the heaps. Etho takes the offer immediately, standing up to go pry through his barrels, ever the nosy bastard. 

“Ooh, nice,” they soon comment, pulling out a stunning seashell dotted with different shades of green- a turban? She can’t be sure, given her vague memories of the different types of shells. Etho holds it up to the light, spinning it to see its full array of colors.

“Take it,” Grian offers.

“I’m sure Joel would like it,” Gem grins slyly as she watches the tips of Etho’s ears redden, giving away their blush, even under their mask.

“I’m not obsessed,” they retorted, giving away the fact they’re definitely obsessed. “I’ll see if he wants it.” They pocket the shell in their thick green coat, and Gem can practically hear them thinking overly hard about what the new resident of the Mountains would like. 

Etho returns to rummaging around. “Gem, you’ve got one thing going for you and Grian took it,” they tease, twisting in a way that looks uncomfortable in order to snicker at the lighthouse keeper’s offended expression.

She scoffs. “Truly,” she snorts at their jab. 

As they continue to fish, mostly in silence, people start to crowd around. Etho’d fished up three lily pads at this point, and had started making a quaint path of them across the river- something Gem’s quick to comment on, being as they were skeptical at first. She’s quickly told to stop talking. Even Impulse stopped by to chat, and had gotten sucked in as well.

A familiar boat sailing into sight catches Gem’s attention, distracting her from her bobber and ending up missing a fish. Cleo soon stops in front of the group’s area to stare at them quizzically. 

“Ah, another one joins!” Grian grins, waving her over. They don't move.

“What are you doing?” She asks, taking in the sight of four people out fishing as the sun sets over the horizon.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Grian laughs.

Cleo snickers, rolling their eyes fondly before gearing up to drive away. Gem starts to wave them off before Grian interrupts. 

“Nope! Get back here!” The man calls out.

Cleo stops once more and locks eyes with Grian. 

“Look down,” he says, rather ominously in Gem’s opinion.

They do as they’re told, looking down at the water that’s started to ripple below them. Right in front of their boat, a fishing rod emerges from the depths, almost as if offering itself to them. She looks back up to Grian, a question in her eyes. Gem follows their lead. 

“The sea’s asked you to join us,” he only grins wider.

Cleo pauses for only a moment before shrugging, climbing down the ladder to grab their newly-acquired rod and join the group. They seem to be much less concerned about Grian’s weird ocean-related knowledge than Gem is currently. 

Nothing else strange really happens, Gem notes. Grian continues to catch cod, even throwing them in a furnace to cook at some point, filling the air with the familiar scent of seafood. Etho announces their catch of another lily pad to expand their ever-growing path, which Gem promptly makes fun of them for. 

“I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I don’t want to stop,” Impulse voices, and Gem notes the hidden confusion laced into his voice. She had to admit, it was a bit addicting. Something deep in her mind urged her to keep going, keep searching. For what, she had no idea. It made her slightly uneasy, if she were to be honest. But another tug on her rod, and she pulled a beautiful shell out of the water, drowning out her thoughts. What was she thinking about again?

Gem was suddenly pulled from her questioning thoughts by the group’s synchronized sound of wonder. She looked over to see what the commotion was about, finding Impulse holding up his rod, a book attached to its hook. The pages are dripping wet and look weathered by the sea. It’s splattered in a strange ooze and its cover seems to glimmer in the dimming sunlight. 

Before he can move to retrieve his treasure, Grian is quick to snatch the novel from its place, turning away from everyone to wrench it open and flick through the pages. Gem and Impulse lock gazes, Impulse giving her a confused look which she returns. 

A snapping sound shocks everyone from their silence. Grian’s slammed the book shut with little care to its contents. He looks furious. 

“Grian?” She inquired cautiously, lowering her rod and moving a hand out to clasp his shoulder. The man jerks out of the way. 

“Impulse, you are not welcome here,” he hisses lowly, sending a chill down Gem’s spine. She didn’t think the man was capable of sounding so dangerous. 

Impulse perks up in shock. “What?-”

“Get out!” Grian snaps as he shoves the book forcefully into Impulse’s chest, causing everyone to take a step back. 

The air is frantic as everyone makes moves to leave. In the blink of an eye, the area had been put back to its original state. As everyone else rushes off, Gem ends up lingering near the dock. She can hear Grian grumbling something under his breath about “getting it whether they like it or not”. She's not sure what that means. She doesn’t dare question it. 

Gem approaches Impulse as he walks off, stopping him far out of Grian’s earshot. “What did you get?”

Her friend shrugs, unease in his eyes. “I don't know! It doesn’t mean anything to me- take a look!” 

He hands the book over to her, which she takes uneasily. It drips onto her hands. It’s a lot heavier than she expected it to be. She examines the cover- it has no title, no author, no nothing. Not even a summary on the back. It looks beautiful from where it isn’t splotched with black, boasting a thick leather cover and gold bindings. She cracks the first page open. 

The pages seem unharmed, with no ink even smudged. She investigates what she assumes to be an author’s note closer, noting that it’s written in a language she doesn’t recognize. It’s not anything she would find around here- or even similar to any alphabet she’d seen before. She quickly returns the book to Impulse, shaking her head in confusion. She doesn’t want to be touching it anymore.

>Previous< | >Next<

#fanfic #my fanfic #hermitfic #geminitay #grian #ethoslab #impulsesv #zombiecleo #hermitcraft #hermitcraft 10

[crystallizedtwilight]

Do barrel and lock have any hopes and aspirations like shock does? They’re obviously still kids and enjoying their new found freedom, but I’m curious as to how B+L define themselves outside of their relationship/the group

below the cut!

Barrel has a couple interests / projects / hobbies that he likes to do on his own, but they are mostly things he does to bring him joy rather than things he hope will open doors in his future.

Entomology - Barrel loves researching, catching, and examining bugs. He also enjoys bug caretaking and pinning. He does try to separate bugs as individual creatures from the bugs that were associated with the bad memories of Boogie—but that’s Barrel’s personality in general. He’s willing to give every creature a chance, as they are now, and will think well of them unless they give him a reason to think otherwise. 

Music - Barrel enjoys listening to music and invested in some good-quality headphones. He hasn’t dabbled in any instruments himself but may want to later.

Dancing - Barrel also has a casual interest in dancing and he’s actually quite light on his feet at formal dancing events. He knows a few different dance styles, but he learned them just to have more fun at events and not to have a future in it.

Gaming - Barrel is very interested in gaming and sets one up on the projector whenever he needs to unwind.

Lock, however, doesn’t know what he wants yet. Currently, he just wants to stay close with his friends and make mischief. He’s never seen another imp so he doesn’t have any examples to look to--they tend to be solitary and he already knows he's breaking the norm by enjoying being part of a trio, and a town. He still needs to learn more about himself, his wants, and to become a little more open to change before he can answer these questions. His future ambition is just to have his friends in his life, and be just as wild and free now as he is now for all of time.

[i-fucked-your-milkshake]

I think was super telling in “Kidnap the Sandy Claws” is the fact that Lock, Shock, and Barrel suspect that “Jack will beat [them] black and green.” Jack would never. Oogie Boogie would though. These kids are hella traumatized by a physically abusive father figure to the point where they’ve normalized physical abuse as a punishment and can’t fathom other ways. Recognize that they’re abused and act like it, the rest of their character development and choices makes absolute sense.

#nightmare before christmas #jack skellington #oogie boogie #lock shock and barrel #kidnap the sandy claws

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

The Battle for Pumpkin King #4

Here are my thoughts on the recently-released #4 issue of The Battle for Pumpkin King! As always, Spoilers under the ‘Read More’!

In this issue, the second contest between Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie for the title of Pumpkin King officially starts, where they have to stack the tallest tower of bones. They each get to pick 3 people to help them, and Jack chooses The Wolfman, Undersea Gal, and his loyal pup, Zero! Meanwhile, Edgar advises Oogie to pick Lock, Shock, and Barrel. Jack uses the advantage of Wolfman playing fetch with Zero, who flies and stacks the next bone. Boogie uses the trio’s stacking skills to help him make a much wider pile.

A squabble comes between Jack and Oogie when Zero misses a bone and it hits the Boogie’s pile. Oogie insults Jack and the competition takes a spin. Noticing Jack’s tall tower, Edgar makes the suggestion that it would be “terrible if winds came and blew it down”, then proceeds to control the wind to knock down Jack’s pile, defeating him in the competition and earning Oogie’s (cheated) victory. They’re now tied - and it dwindles down to the last challenge to determine the new Pumpkin King.

--

I will make the minor comment that I’m disappointed not to see Zero drawn as a small puppy, he looks relatively same in the movie besides maybe being a little smaller? I was also hoping Jack would pick Sally on his team, but it’s nice to see the side Residents being included and helping out! I always love to see more content of them!

Also, Edgar being able to control the wind feels eerily similar to my headcanon of my own past-Pumpkin King fancharacter, who can control/manipulate the earth and wind, being a creature from the lands. This is really cool!!! Edgar is getting worse as a villain as the issues go on. I’m curious to know what else he’s capable of and what he’ll do.

Speaking of which...

If we're going by this comic, this means Oogie Boogie has known Lock, Shock, and Barrel since they were children/toddlers. And Edgar was the one who brought them to him - to use them to Oogie’s advantage in his competition to become King. This is AWFUL and TERRIBLE and I feel so bad for these children’s futures. But I’m curious to see if anything else will come between them and Oogie!

Eagerly awaiting the next (and last?) issue of the series! Oh! This issue also came with more Nightmail, which has concept art of the characters. This has the Mayor and Sally, who has a needle and thread to tie her hair in pigtails! This is so cute and unique for her design! I love it.

#the battle for pumpkin king #pumpkin king spoilers #the nightmare before christmas #nightmare before christmas #jack skellington #oogie boogie #tnbc #disney #tim burton #henry selick #sally finkelstein #spoilers #edgar the pumpkin king #lock shock and barrel

[qu0kkarambles]

Kim Sunoo

Warnings: minors DNI- smut, teasing, collars, pet play?, Sub!Sunoo, edging, toys, begging, aftercare.

Authors note- not posted in forever because my laptop broke but I’m on holiday and there’s a massive storm so I’m writing this to distract myself 🙃

2.3k words

Another week passed and you’d stayed at work 3 hours later than your colleagues, finally finishing the work for the day before hopping in your car for the quick drive home. Before heading off you saw multiple missed calls and texts from your boyfriend Sunoo, all asking where you were, how long you’d be, and telling you how he missed you. You felt awful seeing how much he missed you, so sped home to see him.

Walking into your apartment, you were immediately jumped on by the boy, as he came barrelling out of the kitchen at the sound of your keys in the lock. He was quick to bury his face in your neck, pulling you close for a much needed hug. ‘Hi baby’ you chuckled as he buried his face further into your neck. ‘Missed me?’ you knew you were teasing him but you couldn’t help when he was so cute. He mumbled into your neck how he’d been waiting for you to get home, and as you walked into the kitchen together he finally detached from you to finish cooking the food he had made.

After eating and catching up on your days, you decided to cuddle up and watch a movie, so while he scrolled through Netflix to pick one, you headed into your room to change. Once you had entered the room you were confused by the parcel on your bed- you hadn’t ordered anything and were confused until you saw your boyfriends name on the front. ‘He must’ve left it on the bed earlier’ you thought it to yourself. Without much thought you began to lift the lid of the box, while shouting through to him asking what he’d ordered.

You were more than shocked when you opened the lid of the box to see his goodies. A white leather collar, a pastel pink vibrator as well as an assortment of other toys lay in the box and you picked up the collar as he entered the room, cheeks flushed. ‘Y/n- I’ he fumbled over his words, not really sure how to explain his little purchases. You’d both spoken in the past about some of the links you shared, and had thought of trying some together, but the conversation didn’t go beyond that- a conversation. So seeing sunoos flushed cheeks as he tried to fumble an explanation made your heart flutter.

He was always just too cute.

‘Sun, why didn’t you tell me you’d ordered this stuff?’ You asked, figuring it was the calmest way to start the conversation. His face stayed a bright flush as he muttered under his breath. ‘Louder baby I can’t hear you’ you encouraged him, still toying with the leather collar in your hands. ‘I- I didn’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable with it. I thought maybe if I already had the stuff then if we talked about it again we could talk more. I don’t know it was stupid I’ll just return it.’ He started babbling due to your silence, nerves overtaking him. You gently gripped his chin with your hand, lifting his eyes from the floor to meet yours. ‘But baby, we can’t return them if they’re used’ you said with a slight grin on your face. As your words sunk in and he registered what you were saying, his mouth dropped open, shocked at your reaction.

You took the opportunity while his mouth was open to slip your finger in, pressing against his tongue until he began to gently suck the digit. You praised him as he continued to gently suckle your finger, until you pulled his mouth back open, releasing your finger from him. ‘Good boy baby. Now let’s get these off hmm?’ You said as you tugged on his clothes. He nodded quietly, still in disbelief at how quickly this had all begun. Within a few minutes, he was sat on your bed in just his underwear, waiting for your next instruction while you removed your own clothes.

You sat opposite him, collar in hand as you looked into his eyes to check he was still ok. ‘Should we use the traffic light system baby? Red for stop, green for go, yellow for slow down, ok?’ You explained it softly to him making sure he understood fully before you went any further. With a strong nod, you continued, running your fingers over the white leather collar one more time before moving to put it on him, checking it was loose enough. Once it was secured, you gently pushed on his chest for him to lean back on the pillows, and he just looked so perfect. ‘Stay there baby. I’ll be back in a second.’ With his little nod you left the room, rummaging in the kitchen for your disposable camera. Re-entering the room, you straddled over his hips as you aimed the camera toward him. ‘So pretty for me baby. Such a good pup.’ At the new pet name, his hips bucked slightly, encouraging you further. ‘Awe, does my pup like that? Like being a good pup for me don’t you?’ He whined quietly as he tried to find some sort of friction against his crotch, growing harder by the second.

You held his hips down, lifting yourself off of him as you chastised him for being impatient. ‘Not yet pup, you gotta wait until I tell you ok’

‘Please. I need you please’ he begged, half moaning as your tugged slightly in his collar, leaning over him. ‘Not until I say so.’ You reinforced. Moving from him, you heard his small whine as you moved toward his box of goodies. Having a proper look through, you decided you wanted to use the small pink vibrator first, excited to see how sensitive you could make him. You also found some fluffy handcuffs, and decided they might come in handy, especially since you could see your boyfriend in the corner of your vision grinding against the air above him, desperate for friction.

‘Ok pup, here’s how it’s going to work. You’re not going to cum until I say you can, you’re not allowed to touch until I release these cuffs, and if you’re a good boy, I’ll treat you, ok?’ You laid out the ground rules, snickering as his face flinched at the no cumming rule. But he agreed nonetheless, and so you cuffed his hands to the bed post above him, stretching his arms above his head. The sight was too much, seeing his torso so beautifully stretched and toned, with his perfect skinny waist writhing in desperation. You snapped a quick picture, placing the camera on the bedside for later and reaching for the small vibrator that Sunoo had still not noticed. As you lifted it towards his body, he finally clocked it and mewled quietly, excitement rising.

‘Now remember- don’t cum until I say so’ with those words, you turned the vibrator on the lowest setting, teasing it over his torso and nipples until he lifted his chest into the toy, praying for more. You teased over his toned stomach, following the vibrator with your mouth, leaving red and purple marks behind as you moved closer and closer to the waistband of his underwear. You lifted the vibrator off of his skin, placing a gentle kiss through the fabric on his top, chuckling at the string of curses leaving his mouth.

Placing the vibrator on his clothed tip, you began teasing him, praising how well he was taking everything, how he was such a good pup for you. You could see his hands, white knuckles gripping the sheets so desperately. ‘Fuck y/n. Fuck I- I’m - so close- I-‘ he let out a string of words broken up by his beautiful high pitched whines as his hips bucked up into the vibrator. Knowing how close he was, you pulled the vibrator away, earning beautiful moans and whines as you did.

‘What?! Why-why did you stop?’ He was almost teary, and you gently stroked his cheek hushing him gently. ‘Not yet pup, you gotta earn it.’ This earned another whine from the boy, making you turn the vibrator off altogether and straddle his stomach, pulling him by his jaw to look at you. ‘Don’t complain pup, or I’ll make this longer than it needs to be. You captured his mouth with yours as you finished warning him. You could tell how needy he was by his kiss- it was messy and full of desperation, and filled with moans and whines of your name. When you finally pulled away he tried to follow your mouth with his, until you pushed down on his throat, pinning him to the bed.

The wide eyed look you received shocked you - collars and choking- nice to know.

As you applied more pressure again, you felt the desperation in his voice and decided you had teased enough. Moving your body lower once again, you restart the vibrator, on a higher setting this time. The previous edging had made Sunoo more sensitive and so as soon as the vibrator moved to his tip he was crying out, needy whines filling the room. Without warning, he came in his underwear, shaky and whiny beneath you as you watched him cover himself in cum.

Another picture, and a pull on the collar for breaking the rules. ‘Since my pathetic little puppy can’t follow the rules, I’ll have to punish you.’ This earned quite pleas, begging to take it easy on him, and he couldn’t help it, and how he’ll be a good puppy next time. This fell on deaf ears as you decided on your boyfriends punishment.

‘Well puppy, since you can’t hold your cum, you won’t have to.’ You wanted him to figure out what you had planned himself, but he was too fucked out to think straight. ‘Puppy. Since you can’t wait for permission to cum, you’re gonna cum again,ok? And again. And again. Until I’ve had enough.’ The blush that filled his cheeks had you soaking through your underwear, as if the constant teasing and desperation wasn’t enough to have you dripping. You held the vibrator against him again, and as he whines in overstimulation you chuckled, holding the pink toy with more force against him.

Since he was so sensitive before, it took mere minutes before he was cunning again, further ruining his underwear. His hips were squirming, and you decided leaving his underwear on might be uncomfortable. Pulling them down his legs elicited another whine, as his red tip was extremely sensitive. ‘Good pup cumming again already.’you praised. This time you held the vibrator slightly lower, teasing his shaft more before moving back to the tip. His hips were shaking by this point, with a tear slipping from his eyes down his cheek. You saw the tear and lifted your face to his as you kissed his tear away, still holding the toys flush to his sensitive tip. You felt hun shaking beneath you, as he came another time, covering his stomach and chest and crying at how sensitive he was.

You decided to pull the vibrator away, turning it off and putting it to the side, before snapping another picture of your boyfriend- fucked out and covered in his own cum and your fresh hickeys. He was stunning. He was catching his breath when you decided to clean him up, opting on using your tongue instead of a cloth, licking up his torso and along his length, cleaning up every last drop of cum that your boyfriend had released. He watched as you cleaned him, and tugged against his restraints. He wanted to kiss you again, but he couldn’t pull your face to his with his hands tied.

‘Y/n, kiss me please’ he begged and you caught his eyes as you moved up to his face. You captured his lips with yours, the cum lingering on your tongue mixing into the kiss. Now he was cleaned up, you untied his wrists, and removed his collar, mush to his dismay. You noticed his face change as you took the collar off and placed it back into the box. ‘What’s wrong baby?’ you questioned.

‘It’s nothing it’s just- feels kinda empty without it.’ he answered, no longer embarrassed to be honest with you. ‘Awe puppy. We can play with it again. But you need to shower and I don’t want to damage the leather ok?’ He nodded, understanding where you were coming from, and getting more excited at the thought of next time. You took his wrist in your hand as you dragged him through to the bathroom, turning on the hot shower, and cuddling into him from behind while you waited for it to warm up.

‘Join me?’ He asked hopefully. ‘Of course pup’ you replied as you followed him into the shower.

Once you were both clean, you changed into comfy pajamas and snuggled into bed, your movie night long forgotten. As you both started drifting to sleep, you both dreamt of next time. And you knew in that moment it was going to be a long weekend.

#kim sunoo #sunoo #kpop smut #enhypen smut #enhypen #kpop #sunoo smut

[ask-lock-shock-and-barrel]

What would the trios future houses look like when they’re adults?

((I'll just answer this in writing, since when it comes to designing houses, I'm kinda lazy.

For Lock, I think as he grows up, he likes to flaunt his eccentricities with choice of decor, but he's still not a huge fan of big empty houses like mcmansions or 20+ bedroom manors, and prefers the smaller and cozier set up of something like a studio apartment or an A-frame that can accomodate himself and a partner or potential family, and covered wall to wall with framed posters and shelves of his mishmash collection of human culture memorabilia, kooky masks, framed graffiti art, and some French Quarter gaslamp decor tying it all together that shows that he's still pretty rich and successful and wants to flaunt it in a cozy space. Ultimately something that's like him: petite and fancy.

Shock I think would have something a bit more ramshackle and rural, like a desert-style house with lots of outdoor space since she likes the open air wilderness, and would have a large backyard with a garden where she can read her books or fix cars/repair things/create booby traps, and then have a large garage/workshed somewhere on the property. I think she'd wanna be a mom someday and end up having her bratty little kids making use of the large outdoor space to cause trouble and play

Barrel, all about that SINK life (single income no kids) well into their 30s, would have a cute little studio apartment probably built above their prospective cafe business, and be all about cozy-core furnishing and being tidy. They've also got a little hydroponic garden on their balcony, an area to do art, and the best damn kitchen a studio apartment could have.

And of course the three live within blocks of each other and visit each other every day, so it's like one big 1/2 mile wide home ❤️))

#tnbc #the nightmare before christmas #lock shock and barrel #blog lore #ooc #answered qs

[msweebyness]

Artzy's Awesome Art- Darcy & JJ

Hey ya’ll, it’s the second installment of our Nightmare Before Christmas 30th anniversary special! A MASSIVE thank you to Artzy for doing this amazing art of my Descendants OCs, Darcy, the daughter of Oogie Boogie and Jack ‘JJ’ Skellington Jr, the son of Jack and Sally. They’re *gasp* a couple! Keep an eye out for the last surprise, and below I’ve enclosed some background about these two!

Darcy Boogie:

Adorable but also terrifying

Shortest of the VK’s (She's 4'9" and a proud tiny queen!)

Swears like a drunk sailor

Feral, Abrasive, Sarcastic, Brutally Honest Gremlin

One of the best fighters on the Isle, can and will kick anyone’s ass

Would not wear a dress if her life depended on it

Loves to scare and is damn good at it

Rare Find: Good Isle Parent Relationship

Loves her Papa, so don’t talk shit

Learned how to count cards when she was five

Has a six-year old brother, Nash, will protect him with her life

Lock, Shock and Barrel are (annoying) older siblings

Uma’s sister in all but blood, enforcer of the pirate crew

Fights with Harry all the time, but it’s out of love

Will also protect Gil with her life

Not good with affection, except if it’s her family, JJ, Uma, Gil and sometimes Harry.

Will deck you if you diss her man

Acts like a tsundere, but likes it when JJ is romantic

TFW you have to remind your dad at least once a week that he can’t kill your BF

Protective Queen

Will END you for killing bugs on purpose

JJ Skellington:

Might be a little overdramatic (read the sarcasm)

Gets V excited about things he likes

Has trouble holding still

Loves his snazzy suits, his dad’s style is on point

Don’t make fun of his fedora (Darcy is the only one who can steal it without sustaining serious injuries)

Has weird tastes in food

✨Flexible✨ Boi

Knows everyone in Halloween Town by name. They will fight you to the death to protect him.

Just as good at scaring as Darcy, she hates it

Jack’s Mini Me, helps him around Halloween Town

Tells his mom everything

Has three little sisters, Jennifer, Sylvia and Holly

Bullied in Auradon for not looking “Heroic”

Cannot hold a grudge to save his life

Only had four friends (Ben, Doug, Jane and Lonnie. He and Lonnie have been like siblings forever.)

Sweetheart™️

Gentleman™️

But also a snarky king

Deals with a lot of anxiety, has attacks on occasion

Knew he was going to marry Darcy within five minutes of meeting her

WILL write and perform an entire song for his wonderful girlfriend

Very scared of his future-father-in-law

I love my babies and I hope you do too! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

#descendants #disney descendants #the nightmare before christmas #oogie boogie #jack skellington #Sally #JJ Skellington #Darcy boogie #descendants OC’s #son of jack Skellington #daughter of Oogie boogie

[x-ladyathena-x]

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smoking/drinking, language, sad!tommy, Thomas Shelby needs a hug, vulnerable Tommy Shelby, PTSD episode, angst, fluff, comfort

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: When your family’s pub is in danger of being overtaken by the Peaky Blinders, you’ll do anything to keep your family’s welfare intact, even marry your worst enemy. As passions and tempers run high, you realize that you might not hate Mr. Shelby as much as you think you do. There are NO spoilers for the show in this fic, don't worry!

Note: Season 6 of Peaky Blinders has FINALLY hit netflix(US) and I am so excited! To celebrate I made this sweet, angsty, comforting little oneshot. Enjoy!!!

the title of this piece is a quote by George Santayana (1922) —although some accredit it’s origin to Plato, but that’s a whole can of worms I’m not opening here—Santayana said this, referring to the slaughter that was WWI, meaning: because of human nature, peace will always be finite. Since our boy, Tommy Shelby left France with nothing to show but ghosts en tow, I figured this title was appropriate.

“Another!”

You ignored the slurred drunken voice of the man seated at the bar behind you.

He pounded his drinking glass against the bar top so hard, you were surprised it didn’t shatter. “Girl! I said another,” The man yelled at your back. “What are you? Fuckin’ deaf?” He grumbled, but was interrupted.

“Arthur,” a deep steady voice cautioned, “that’s enough.”

You froze. He was back. Thomas Shelby… head of the infamous crime syndicate, The Peaky Blinders.

“Please forgive my brother,” the gravelly voice said, “he doesn’t always use his manners.”

“Fuck you Tommy,” Arthur slurred.

You glanced over your shoulder, and looked back to Tommy, indicating that you’d heard him. Still, you didn’t say anything and went back to pretending to polish glasses behind the bar.

The sound of a barstool raking across the wooden floor made you grit your teeth. Tommy was sitting down. Now you had two Shelby brothers seated at your bar. One Shelby brother was enough to run out all your good paying customers, the respectable ones at least, but two Shelby brothers would ensure that nobody at all respectable would stop in for the rest of the day.

“Don’t even bother sitting down, brother,” Arthur began, and you heard him rake his glass across the bar, picking it up, “the service here is shit,” and he threw his lowball glass full force into the mirror back of your bar.

The mirror shattered everywhere. It cut your hands as the pieces fell. You were enraged at the blatant disrespect of your property and reached for the pistol hidden under the bar and pointed the barrel at the eldest Shelby brother.

Arthur never flinched, but Tommy was on his feet in no time.

“Let’s take it easy, yeah?” Tommy calmly said to you, “don’t need to be shooting anyone today.”

At that moment, your father entered the room. His face was that of shock and panic, seeing you threatening a member of Birmingham’s most notorious gang at gun point. The next few moments were a bit blurry, but they involved your father disarming you, scalding you, and then locking you in the back room.

You spent an unknown amount of time picking at the lock to the store room with no luck. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, and when it finally opened, you saw your father standing there with his hands on his hips.

“We need to talk.” He said. But he wasn’t angry. He sounded grief stricken, sick, and nervous.

The two of you walked back into the pub, which was empty now. He went and locked the front door and turned the open sign to closed.

“What’s going on?” You asked, growing more nervous.

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “they’re taking over the pub. They want to make it another one of their family businesses.”

Anger flooded you, “no. They can’t do that, they can’t kick us out onto the street, they can’t just take it from us without paying. where will we go?”

Before you finished talking, your father had already begun to shake his head, “they don’t wanna kick us out. And they’re not planning to just take it.”

Your brows furrowed, “what? But you said they want to make it a family business. Are they paying you to buy it?”

“The pub will be your dowry,” he said without meeting your eyes.

You laughed, still confused, “my dowry? But I’m not engaged.”

“You are now,” your father said gravely, “to Thomas Shelby.”

———————

You spent the better part of the next three days sulking. Still, you tended to your bar keeping duties, like the dutiful daughter you were but inwardly, you were angry.

In all honesty, you didn’t blame your father. They’d have probably shot him on the spot and taken you and the pub anyway, had he refused them. No, your anger and hatred was aimed at Thomas Shelby.

The bell at the door tinkled and you looked up to see who entered… speak of the devil.

It was morning still, so you hadn’t fully opened for the day yet. It was just the two of you.

Tommy leaned against the bar in his effortlessly casual manner. You ignored him as you set up chairs and buffed tables with a rag, getting ready for the impending after work crowd. He didn’t speak, he just watched you with his ice blue eyes.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Shelby?” You said to him when you could ignore him no longer, “we’re not open yet.”

He pulled a cigarette from the inside of his coat, and ran it over his plump lips before placing it between them and lightning it. You gripped the rag in your hand tightly as you watched the action. You were annoyed with yourself for how disarmingly handsome you found him.

“Just came in here to get a better look at my property.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke in a huff

You hated this man.

You walked around the table you’d been cleaning to better face him and crossed your arms, “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you mean the pub, and not your newly betrothed.” You said with as much venom as you could muster.

He took another drag of his cigarette, “no, Love. I mean you.”

You felt your face get hot with anger, but you couldn’t speak. His calm gaze never left your face, which infuriated you further.

Tommy blew out a cloud of smoke, “I mean no offense. Just business.” He snubbed out the cigarette in one of the ash trays on the bar top and turned to walk away.

You watched him go, and if it weren’t for the love of your family and the fear for their safety, you’d have lobbed the nearest chair at the back of his head.

He paused before opening the door to leave and looked over his shoulder back at you, “For the record, I consider myself the real winner in this deal.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help yourself. Damn your sharp tongue, “pretty barmaids are a dime a dozen. Why not go solicit one of them if you are that desperate to fuck someone over.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the ghost of a smile dance over his lips before he stilled his expression. Tommy crossed the floor and over to where you stood in just a couple quick strides.

He never touched you but had you moved even a hair’s width, you’d have brushed noses with him. Your senses were engulfed with him. The tang of sweat and gunpowder mixed with the sooty air outside and his cigarette still on his breath filled your nose. He could kill you right now for disrespecting him if he wanted to. You’d heard stories of him killing men for less.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said in his deep velvety voice.

“No,” you said, your anger still speaking for you, “you’re worse.”

“Hmm,” he hummed a laugh, “maybe so. And maybe,” he leaned closer, brushing passed your nose. You felt his lips barely brush against yours as he spoke, “maybe you’ll find out soon enough.”

The absence of his warmth made you open your eyes. You didn’t even remember closing them. You licked your lips involuntarily as you stood there and watched him walk out of the pub and back onto to street, closing the door behind him.

You breathed out a heavy sigh and felt your stomach flutter and hated Tommy Shelby even more.

—————

All night, as you worked, you felt Tommy Shelby’s eyes on you, no matter how you tried to ignore him. He ordered a whole bottle of whiskey through the window of his private “meeting” room and if you had to guess, he wasn’t in a sharing mood, so the bottle was for him alone.

The crowd was a rowdy one tonight, spurred on by the Shelby brothers and all the type of people they attracted. Your feet ached and so did your back, you’d be glad when the night was over and you could finally crawl into bed.

The hours waned and the crowd thinned until the last customer left and your pub was empty. You were about to begin sweeping the floors when you heard a noise from the Shelby’s private room.

You pushed open the door to the room and heard the clink of a bottle on the floor. You picked it up. Empty.

Just as you were thinking the wind had blown it down, you heard something stir from the bench seat against the wall.

Through the dim light, you were able to make out the outline of a pair of shoulders and a back. Someone was asleep on the bench. Passed out, from the night’s drinking.

You looked down at the bottle in your hand and saw the unmistakable label of the whiskey you’d given to Tommy Shelby earlier in the evening. You considered leaving him and shutting the door behind you, he wasn’t your problem. But something stopped you.

You heard the tiniest whine escape his lips in his sleep.

“No,” he whimpered quietly, followed by a resounding “NO!” he called out as he began to thrash, “they’re coming.”

Your indifference to him faded and was quickly replaced with concern.

Your father had explained to you a while ago about the ghosts that the men brought back with them from the war.

You remembered seeing the previously bright, alive eyes of old, regular customers return as hollow and dim. They drank a little more deeply from their bottles than they did before and carried an air of somber sorrow that was hard to put into words but you knew it when you saw it.

Or, rather, you felt it.

This is how it felt as you watched the man before you, lying vulnerable while the ghosts he carried with him reared their ugly faces.

You walked over to him, tentative to touch him in his panic.

“Thomas,” you whispered gently, “Thomas.”

You reached out your hand to touch him. He wrapped his hand around your wrist and gripped it tight. He stared at you with blank eyes before rolling off the bench and collapsing onto the floor, his entire body heaved with sobs.

You didn’t know what to do, so you sat down on the floor beside him and wrapped him in your arms. You held him for a long time, held him until he finally stilled. All the while, he clutched onto you for dear life.

————

The next morning came too early. You arose for your daily chores and opening tasks for the pub but last nights events still weighed heavily on your mind.

You were lost in your own head while cleaning the bar top until the sound of someone clearing their throat made you look up.

It was Tommy.

He stood with his usual formal, commanding posture and lit a cigarette before he began speaking, “I uh, wanted to apologize for my behavior last night.” He took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shook your head and looked back down at the bar as you absentmindedly buffed it, “Nothing to apologize for, Mr. Shelby.”

“Please, call me Thomas,” he hesitated for a moment, “I rather liked hearing you call me Thomas last night.” He looked up at you with his striking blue eyes but he didn’t look as harsh as the previous encounters you’d had. There was a softness there as he looked onto you.

You felt your cheeks flush and looked down.

He chuckled, “It’s that easy to fluster you, is it?”

He put out his cigarette and looked up at you, “thank you for being so kind to me, last night. Even though people like me don’t deserve it.” He turned to walk away.

You found your voice, “why?”

He paused but didn’t turn to face you, “why what, Love.”

You ignored the pet name and didn’t let it deter you, “why don’t you feel you deserve kindness?”

He laughed under his breath and turned around, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. He looked amused, “You said it yourself, I’m the worst kind of lowlife.”

“I didn’t call you a lowlife,” you countered. Though, you did call him the worst, you thought guilty to yourself.

“You didn’t have to, but it’s what you meant.” He took a step toward you until the bar top stopped him from walking any closer, “and i am.”

Your heart hammered in your chest.

His eyes flickered from your wide eyes down to your lips, “if this bar weren’t here, I’d have already shown you what kind of lowlife I am.”

You ground your teeth at the hollow threat, “don’t act like the bar top is stopping you. You’re not the act you portray in the streets: Thomas Shelby, the notorious gangster, taking what he wants.” You could feel your confidence growing with every word you spoke, “I saw the real Thomas Shelby last night. Your heart bleeds just like every other poor soul that returned from France. You’re not a hardened criminal, you’re just a man, a broken one, that’s too stubborn to ask for what he wants. You’ve gotta make a big show about taking what you want: the pub, and me.” You emphasized the last word.

You realized too late that you’d overstepped an unspoken boundary. Tommy smashed his fist on the bar and made you jump. But you maintained your ground.

You thought he was going to yell, you were surprised he didn’t leap over the bar. But he just stood there soaking in your words until he could hold your gaze no longer.

He wilted under your unwavering confidence, “Yeah, Love, you did.” He conceded,” You did see the real me.” He hesitated, “I just hoped that you wouldn’t have to see it so soon. I had hoped that I’d be able to win you over before scaring you away with all that.”

There was a tense silence in the room as Tommy stood there, allowing his true self to be revealed to you. A true act of vulnerability. His darkness laid bare for you to either accept or judge.

After a moment he spoke again, “I’m gonna be a good husband to you.” His beautiful eyes locked onto yours, “I’ll treat ya right. No, i’m not perfect but I swear to always do right by you.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand. You gave it a light squeeze, “I know you will.”

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby x reader #sad!tommy shelby #angst #fluff #comfort #x ladyathena x #only the dead have seen the end of war #the peaky blinders

[aces-corner]

Three scarecrow goons but they’re like lock, shock, and barrel from the nightmare before Christmas- Thoughts?

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #batman rouges #the rouges gallery #random toughts #blorbo #ace’s soapbox

[artzychic27]

Since I love some protective villain dad content, here’s a fun prompt for you to finish:

(Directly Post-D3, while there’s a kingdoms-wide Auradon-Isle unification party, in Halloween. The residents of Halloween Town are celebrating. Lock, Shock and Barrel are enjoying causing mischief in their old stomping grounds after being behind the barrier for so long, JJ went to do something with his dad, and Darcy is talking with Sally. Three boys are looking her way.)

Mikhael (son of the Two-Faced Mayor): (Looks Darcy up and down) DAMN, I was expecting some creepy burlap lump on the ground, but would you check that out?

Wilson (son of the Wolfman): Yeah, who woulda thought the ol’ bag a’ bugs would have a hot piece of ass like THAT for a daughter. (Wolf whistles)

Lagan (son of the Undersea Gal): (Smirks) Think JJ’d be up to share sometime?

(The three boys snicker, only to hear a sharp ‘AHEM’ behind them, as an enormous shadow cloaks them in darkness. They turn to look, only for their stomachs to drop when they find themselves looking into a hollow pair of eyes and a fierce scowl.

(Guess who?)

Oogie Boogie: … Care ta repeat them words, boys? Specifically the one ‘bout my baby girl being a hot piece of… What was that, now?

*They’re suddenly regretting every single life choice*

Mikhael: H-hey, Oogie, s-sir, we meant nothing by it.

Wilson: H-honest. We were just talking, y’know?

Lagan: *Crying* Don’t kill us!

Oogie Boogie: Oh, I ain’t gonna kill y’all. *The three of them sigh* I have Lock, Shock, and Barrel to do that for me. And from what I hear, they’re more devious than ever.

*They look to see the young adult Bathtub Brats eyeing them with malicious glints in their eyes. Lock slides a finger across his neck*

#descendants #the nightmare before xmas #the nightmare before christmas #ocs #Jack Skellington #oogie boogie #answered ask #ask me stuff

[crystallizedtwilight]

*politely* Does Lock (or barrel) ever have nightmares (probably about boogie)? And if so what does the other do to try to get them to calm down?

All three of them have nightmares about their former boss from time to time:

Shock just gets up, makes herself tea, and starts the morning early even if she’s tired. Maybe go for a flight to clear her head. A new day of freedom and fun is just on the horizon and it will help her forget.

Lock slips out the window and onto the roof, even if it’s cold. If he’s been out there too long, Barrel will check on him. If it’s one of the nights where they’re sharing a bed, Barrel can sometimes convince him not to run, but not always.

Barrel wakes up and stares at the glow stars above his bed, trying not to slip too deep into memories they never should have had. If Lock is there to notice, he'll offer himself up to be held. Because he's here, they're all here, despite how they all thought things would turn out.

#sad #but they're ok now