#don't think it will be done by tomorrow BUT SOON

[viharbinger]

💍 Romance And Weddings (Fred Weasley x fem!reader)

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Wife!Reader (I'm fuckign tweaking)

Warnings: Fred not dead 🤫🥰, pregnancy, marriage, reader is female, usage of pet names (love and darling), this is set shortly after the second wizarding war

a/n: I have exams tomorrow and I'm writing Fred Weasley x wife reader fic??? I think I need the mental hospital

You and Fred started dating in your first year of Hogwarts. It was a small parchment of paper passed to you, asking, 'do you want to be my girlfriend? Circle yes or no' I mean you both were eleven, without a worry in the world and there wasn't any harm in dating. And when the school years went by, it seems like it wasn't just a silly childhood crush after all because you've both become accustomed to calling each other your boyfriend and girlfriend and hanging out together everywhere.

You've had your awkward first kiss, reluctant hand holding, and even broken up a couple of times during your time in Hogwarts. But what surprised you the most is why you said yes to his marriage proposal! I mean, it's common knowledge that most highschool relationships just don't work out. But now, you have officially been dating for a little over 6 or more years, if you don't count the times you've broken up over silly arguments— you've even moved in with him and George!

Even when you were dating, Fred would always teasingly flirt with you, it had you turning red all the time. And you'd also do it back at him, making him turn equally red. Soon enough, those awkward first kisses became natural and a daily occurrence for the both of you and you got more comfortable with each other.

So it was just a little after Fred and George had opened up their shop and the Wizarding community was starting to divide into two sides. Business was booming, Fred and George were making more than enough galleons to fit into their pockets and were looking to treat themselves.

They've bought themselves the dragon-skin suits, gifted their family presents and started living comfortably. But Fred had a thought. You've both dated basically throughout your most important years— and been with him the whole time! He wants to treat you to something but what he didn't think he would get was an engagement ring.

He just happened to come by a jewellery store when he saw it... A ring that would look so beautiful if it sat on your finger. He bought it without a second thought but decided not to propose just then, because you never know, right?

He kept the ring in his jacket pocket at all times, and even made sure you never washed the jacket yourself to prevent you from accidentally seeing it. He was gonna keep it for a momentous occasion, and... Maybe the momentous occasion was when you and Fred were in the middle of a fight against Death Eaters in Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do this earlier, love!" He shouts through all the noise happening in the school. "You're an idiot!" You snapped, hitting one final blow to a death eater, and then clutching Fred's arm to pull him away to safety, your finger glistening with the ring he just proposed.

"You couldn't have done this in a worser time?" You breathed, quickly blocking an attack at another Death Eater, and Fred fires at him. Teamwork makes the dreamwork. "Yeah, but you said yes, didn't you?" He laughs amidst the battle, now pulling you to where the rest of the survivors are also fighting.

When the fight was finally over, you were cuddled up against him with your head on his shoulder sitting on one of the dining chairs in the great hall. You finally had the time to admire the ring on your finger, and this action doesn't go unnoticed by Fred. "Once we're out of here, I promise I'll give you the best life possible. Anything for my darling wife." He cheekily grins, caressing the hand that you held up to look at.

"You're crazy, you know that?" You blush, hiding your face in his neck. And the news doesn't go unheard in less than a week. He's sent owls to his family, yours, friends and acquaintances all about your engagement and that a wedding date is to be announced.

"Fred, where are all these owls coming from?" The replies came around the same time, and he was just smiling cheekily. He pressed a long affectionate kiss to your temple as you opened the letters with furrowed eyebrows. "You told... Everyone? Already?!"

Every week without marrying you keeps Fred so antsy to marry you, it's adorable. Before he's even married you, he's already calling you 'Mrs. Weasley' or referred you as his wife in every conversation. When you're shopping with him too, he's insufferable. He's constantly making suggestions for the wedding, "I think this napkin would look nice on the guest tables, what's say you?" or "That dress would look lovely on you for the reception, love. Just suggesting."

And the first week back to the Burrow after your engagement was celebratory. Molly was ecstatic and welcomes you into her family warmly, not like you weren't ever part of it.

Finally came to the wedding, it would be big with a lot of friends and families. Being one of the Weasley twins, there would be fireworks setting off after your I do's and it would just be magical. Seeing you walk down the aisle for the first time, his eyes would burn trying to hold his tears. He thinks you're so beautiful, he couldn't help speaking it out loud, earning some laughter from the audience.

During the wedding reception, he couldn't help stare at you everytime, either. He also gets so drunk off of firewhiskey with his family, he starts calling for you if you leave him for longer than 3 minutes. He'd slur your name, and be so tired he would just lay his head on your shoulder for a short nap, ruining your perfect outfit with his drool.

And not even a few months had passed since your wedding when you find out you're pregnant with Fred's baby. Not surprising of course, being a wife of a Weasley basically meant you're gonna have a broody husband. You had no fear in telling him, because it was his idea after all. Well, he'd try to pretend it's your idea by planting it in your head.

He'd purposefully take care of Teddy Lupin to show how much of a good father he would be in front of you. Or he'd somehow shift the conversation to be about how he loves how cute babies are. "I know what you're playing at, Freddie." You jab a finger at his chest, and he catches it the second jab and presses a kiss to your hand. "Don't know what you're talking about, love."

When you finally agreed to the idea of getting pregnant, he literally wasted no time. He's already running his hands all over your body, kissing you breathlessly and pulling you to the bed... And the rest is history. But the first baby is just a start, he says. Like I said, he's broody and even jokes about wanting to have a 'full quidditch team' which you swat him for.

<3 pleaz reblog and like

[qixttine]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN! reader

Don't go. Getting sent on a suicide mission (Request!!)

At first, he was excited when you called him to your barracks. It's been a while since you two had spent some quality time with each other, and he thought he would get some action, maybe even cuddles? He had a stupid grin on his face at the thought, though it was covered by the mask.

But as soon as he heard of the mission, his stomach dropped. It was like a knife piercing his heart at the thought of his beloved, his one and only light, being sent to a fucking suicide mission. He was both devasted and angered.

How dare they? They could've spat in his face or done anything, and he would be fine with the fact, as long as they leave his beloved ALONE.

He felt like vomiting hearing the news, his whole world going black as he clenched his hands into fists at the sides.

He couldn't hear you, too lost in his world of swirling thoughts. He can't lose you, he cant. You're all he has, all he's known, all he wants and needs. He can't bear living without you.

Despite your attempts to assure him, it all fell deaf to his ears

He wants to beg, to plead, to sob you into staying. He wants to hold you and never let go. But he doesn't. He can't. His pride pulls him on a leash.

Instead of plainly begging, he does it silently. He demands your attention and even demands your presence in general. He would even help you with anything you needed and became more affectionate than usual. He was acting as if it was your last day on earth. He would sneak into your barracks late at night and kiss your lips until it was swollen, biting and nibbling on your skin while whispering affirmations that you're gonna be alright, convincing himself more than you. Nevertheless, you always refused. Being the good soldier you are, work came first. And as much as Simon loved every part of you, he hated that.

Finally, it was time. You leave tomorrow morning. Simon refused to be away from you that day. Hands on you wherever you go. Bathroom? He'll turn around, but he'll still be there. Packing? Hands on your waist wherever you walk, maybe even deliberately sabotaging you by hiding your clothes somewhere you can't reach. He would even eat and bathe with you, and it wouldn't even be sexual.

Eventually, night came, and he was a mess of nerves. But of course, being the stoic man he is, he didn't say a word. He trusted you, and he trusted you'll be safe and come back to him.

"Got everythin' you need, luv?" "Be careful out there, alright? Don't even think about doin' anythin' dumb." "You're gonna be okay, alright? You're gonna be fine. You-you'll be safe, back here in my arms, aren't ya, luv?"

He'll ramble his mouth off while you pack, probably talking more than he has in years. You kiss him to shut him up, and that he did.

Of course, it didn't end with just a kiss. You were the sore the next morning and found him asleep next to you, hugging your body so hard you were sure his grip would leave a bruise.

You woke him up, kissed his cheek, said goodbye, and left. You left. You actually left. You actually left him. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and he felt empty, anxious, so fucking worried about you.

He would try to get more information about your mission, but nothing. It was all useless information, all indicating that it was a fucking suicide mission you HAD to go. You HAD to leave.

8 months passed before he heard from you. It was a shortly lived joy when he heard you were in the hospital. He almost cried, almost. As soon as the news hit him, he rushed to get out of the base and to wherever you may be.

When he saw you in the hospital bed, covered in bandages, bruised, nurses tending to you, he felt the anger returning. He was devasted. Yet he said nothing, nothing at all. But you knew better than to think he didn't care. You saw the emotion in his eyes. No matter how many layers of masks he wore, you still saw through him.

He took a leave that very day. No way in hell would he be working while you were in here. No, he was going to stick by your side. Every checkup, he's there. He'll help you to the bathroom, spoon feed you, hold your hand while you sleep, just to remind him that you were still there.

Of course, all while maintaining a stoic figure. Can't have people thinking he was soft now, no matter how true it may be when it came to you.

Eventually, you recovered, but he still insisted on following you wherever just in case. Nevertheless, after a week, he'd lessen the stalking you around and just settled for the daily updates.

Yet, he still gets nightmares from time to time of your bloodied body on the hospital bed, never waking up.

[fluffyficsanddreams]

Softening

A/N: AAA YAY POOLVERINE!! i absolutely adore these two and have wanted to write them for months now, just now getting around to it. i really want to get into writing consistently again, so i hope there'll be more soon (i really wanna write one with Logan and Laura, so we'll see if i get around to that) <3

Summary: Wade learns about the best way to comfort a Logan stuck in his mind, and also learns that Logan doesn't mind said comfort very much.

this is a sfw tickle fic and features implied romantic Wade/Logan, plus a decent amount of language. if you don't like it, don't read it. 🫶

also spoilers for the movie lol

Logan was tired.

Okay, tired was a very very large understatement. He was absolutely exhausted.

Now, granted, he wasn't nearly as exhausted as he had been before a certain merc showed up at the bar and dragged him on the weirdest journey of his entire 200-year-long existence. Wade was actually a good person at heart underneath his constant quips and innuendos, and was now someone that Logan considered a good friend (perhaps he felt something more, but he hadn't decided on that yet.)

But right now, he didn't feel like debating on his feelings about Wade. His mind was filled with memories that he'd tried so desperately to bury and forget, memories of those he had once cared for, those that had died because of his negligence.

He leaned back against the couch cushions in the living room of Wade's apartment, taking another swig of the alcohol from the bottle in his hand, trying to drink his feelings away as he had done since the incident.

Wade, however, was not going to allow that to happen.

The merc walked into the room in a Hello Kitty t-shirt and shorts, carrying his best-dog-buddy in his arms. He let out a slight huff at the sight of Logan chugging booze like there was no tomorrow, setting Dogpool down on her overly-large dog bed.

"Hey, peanut, put down the bottle for at least two seconds, would you?" He asked with an undertone of sarcasm, walking over and flopping down onto the couch next to him, just slightly too close as usual.

Logan, not exactly being in the mood to deal with Wade's jokes and nonstop rambling, ignored him for a second to take another sip. "I don't feel like puttin' up with you right now. Go away, I needa be alone." He grumbled, gazing down at nothing in particular, his expression contorted with irritation and suppressed emotion.

Wade, of course, didn't listen. He was able to read the other mutant very easily by now—it wasn't like Logan bothered to hide it very much, anyway, so it didn't take much to see that he was being weighed down by something. Despite his tendency to turn everything into a joke, he knew when something was important.

Although he knew that the grumpy man usually didn't allow Wade to touch him, he reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, inwardly celebrating when Logan allowed it to stay there. "Hey, what's on your mind?"

Logan didn't answer at first, having a mental battle with himself within his head. He trusted Wade, genuinely, but sharing his thoughts and feelings was something he'd never been good at. Pushing people away was what he was good at.

But... look where that had gotten him last time.

Deciding that he would have to do this eventually anyway, he let out a sigh before speaking up in a grumble.

"I jus'... miss 'em. I wasn't there to protect 'em, and now..."

Logan's voice trailed off, his gaze troubled as he avoided looking at his roommate. He felt pathetic, talking about this—it was something he'd only shared with a couple people (one of which was manipulating him), but... for some reason, he found himself trusting Wade with it, despite the fact that he was the most annoying person he'd ever known.

Wade, on the other hand, didn't think it was pathetic in the slightest. He was absolutely thrilled that Logan was being so vulnerable with him, and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. Besides, he understood how he felt, in a way—not protecting the ones you love, and feeling the guilt destroy you from the inside out.

The merc leaned forward so that he was in Logan's line of vision, offering him a small smile.

"Thanks for telling me, peanut. Really. I'm sorry about all that."

Wade said, nodding his chin a little. He hadn't been this genuine or sincere with Logan since their talk before the whole creating-a-matter-antimatter-circuit extravaganza.

But, of course, he was still Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth.

"Come on, bud, I gotta get you to cheer up a bit. Ya can't brood forever, as hot as you look doing it." He joked, giving Logan a light poke to the side, trying to get him to loosen up a little. He did not, however, expect the reaction that the poke got him.

Logan flinched at the unexpected poke, his eyes widening briefly, drawing in a quick breath at the sensation. He hadn't felt that in so many years, and... fuck.

Wade was definitely not going to let this go.

A shit-eating grin spread across the mischevious Deadpool's face, multiple thoughts popping into his mind, but one was able to be heard above all—Logan was ticklish.

"Actually, Wolvie, I think I have the perfect idea to help you cheer up..." Wade said slowly, leaning closer and closer to his now inwardly panicking friend-maybe-more.

Logan was definitely not about to let himself get tickled of all things by the most insane person he'd ever met, for he knew that Wade would take forever to drop it.

The man shifted uneasily toward the arm of the couch, scooting backward and keeping an eye on his roommate at all times. "Absolutely not, motherfucker. You better not touch me or I swear to god I'll—AHCK!"

Logan's threat (that he didn't really actually mean) was cut off as Wade tackled him down, pinning him to the couch and straddling his thighs so that he couldn't go anywhere. The merc grinned like a Cheshire cat, a few fantasies playing out in his head now that he had the Wolverine pinned underneath him—

Nope, we're not going there. Besides, Wade had different plans right now.

He placed his hands on Logan's abdomen, just resting them there for now, smiling broadly as he felt the mutant tense up underneath his touch.

"Ooh, I didn't peg you to be the sensitive type, but you learn something new every day, huh? Now, let's see here. Since Marvel Jesus is merciful, I'm gonna let you pick out a safeword! Whaddya think of that, peanut? What do you want it to be?"

Logan felt his sanity slowly deteriorating as Wade blabbered on and on, and frankly, he didn't really know what the fuck he was even talking about (although he'd gotten used to that by now.) He was currently clenching his fists at his sides, using every last ounce of self control he had to not stab Wade through his arms.

"The only reason I'm not cuttin' your fucking hands off right now is because Althea doesn't want blood gettin' everywhere. Get the fuck offa me and find someone else to bother." Logan snarled up at Wade, shooting him a glare sharper than a piece of shrapnel—but, of course, Deadpool was not deterred in the slightest. In fact, Logan's mild panic masked by anger only egged him on further.

"Well, that isn't a safeword, is it? I guess you're just gonna have to go without. Sorry not sorry!"

Wade declared with a joyous smile, curling his fingers and starting to scribble up and down both of Logan's sides over his shirt, his fingertips climbing up to his ribcage and digging into the muscles there. Being the dexterous mercenary he was, quick movements like this were a piece of cake for him—and came in handy when tickling, apparently.

However, it proved to be a death sentence for Logan.

The Wolverine was now squirming and bending away from Wade's hands as much as possible, although that didn't exactly prove helpful, considering his currently pinned position. His lips were stubbornly clamped shut, forcing back the laughs that he felt were quickly bubbling up in his chest.

"Fuckin' piece of—grrrgghh! Wilson! I'm gonna—" Logan began to threaten through clenched teeth, falling silent again when he realized he was growing closer and closer to breaking with every word. He hadn't been tickled in literal decades, and he found himself reacting to the feeling way more than he expected.

The thing was, he had long ago grown accustomed to violence and an otherwise lack of physical touch in his life. The only times he was touched was when he was fighting, in danger, things along those same lines of violence. To be touched in a gentle way at all felt incredibly foreign, and he frankly didn't know how to feel about it. The idea that he wasn't in danger, and that he could allow this to happen without any harm to anything aside from maybe his ego, was a surprisingly comforting thought.

That thought sort of helped (or hindered, depending on how you looked at it) Logan loosen up a little, and caused him to break a little sooner than he would normally have allowed himself to—especially when Wade's mischevious fingers crawled their way up to his upper ribs, near to his underarms.

"Pfffuhuhuhuck! Dahahamnit, you dihihick! Stahahap it!"

In that moment, Wade definitely fell in love. Whether it was with Logan himself or his laughter, he didn't know. What he did know was that he needed to do this more often.

"Aww, listen to those sweet little laughs! C'mon, Logie, I know you've got more in you! I think I've just gotta find the right spot, huh? Wanna tell me where that is?"

"Fuhuhuck yohou!"

"Now, while that does sound quite enticing, I'm afraid that's not what we're doing right now. If you're gonna be a stubborn little asshole, I guess I'm just gonna have to find that spot myself. How terrible..." Wade beamed, his expression filled with pure glee.

So, now, Wade went on a new mission: find Logan's worst spots and then proceed to exploit the shit out of them. The mischevious merc's fingers crawled up from Logan's upper ribs into his underarms, digging his wiggling digits deep into the soft muscle.

Logan let out a loud snort before dissolving into wheezy laughter, clamping his large arms to his sides reflexively while simultaneously punching and smacking at his roommate's arms in a feeble attempt to get him to stop.

"Wihihihilsohohon! Gehehet the fuhuhuhuck out of thehehere, ya mohohohoron!" He managed to snort out, hating himself for being unable to hold back the wide grin he knew was on his face at the moment.

Wade cocked his head to the side, his devilish grin widening even further. "Oh, not there, huh? That's okay, I've got plenty of other options here..."

After giving one last scribble to Logan's underarms for good measure, Wade brought his hands down to those stupidly attractive abs that he was hiding underneath that shirt, kneading them with both hands on either side while drilling his thumbs into the flesh around his navel.

Yet another snort was ripped from Logan's throat before he erupted into a fit of hearty laughter, the sound a little more wild and frantic than it was a second ago. Of course Wade had managed to find the spot that practically made him explode as soon as it was touched.

Except, as he writhed around underneath his roommate, another thought occurred to him amidst his persistent giggling. He didn't really mind this as much as he thought he would. In fact, he found himself secretly enjoying it, in a sense. It allowed him to let go, giving him a reason to laugh, which was something that Wade said he didn't do nearly enough. Perhaps he should take his advice, just this once.

However, Logan was forcibly ripped out of his thoughts when he felt Wade's hands sneaking their way underneath his shirt, pushing it up before he began scratching at his abdomen rather than kneading.

"Ooh, now I can really get in here. Look at those gorgeous abs, how could you possibly go around hiding these?" Wade beamed, admiring his muscles as he kept up his attack.

Logan, meanwhile, was laughing so hard he could barely form thoughts, pounding his heels against the couch cushions while he grasped desperately at Wade's wrists, trying to wrench his hands away from his stomach—but the mercenary was freakishly strong.

"WahahAHAhade! You're suhuhuch a—ahahEEK! Fuhuhuhuuuck, nohohot thehere!"

Logan had been about to threaten Wade with the usual decapitation (which he never meant), but it had been cut off by his own squeal when Wade's finger dug right into his navel. He was losing his mind by now, and he wasn’t sure how much more laughing he could muster. The answer was a lot, but he didn't know that.

He was probably about to find out, though, because Wade had yet another mischievous idea. It seemed he was never short of those, and Logan was often the person who ended up the victim... see the pattern?

The merc leaned forward to get a better look at Logan's smiling, red face, a smile of his own spreading across his features. It was devilish, but it had a bit of genuine warmth behind it—this was the first time he'd ever seen Logan smile so much, and he looked so relaxed, even if he was laughing his ass off. He definitely wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

And so, he set his idea in motion, even though he knew he probably would get stabbed for it. (It wasn't like he hadn't gotten stabbed by Logan a million times already, what was one more?)

"Y'know, Wolvie, I'm feeling a little hungry. Whaddya say I just take a big ol' bite of these sexy abs?"

Logan didn't even know what the hell Wade was talking about, but he barely had time to process his question before his insane roommate came forward and planted his mouth right above his navel, nibbling at his skin—not nearly hard enough to hurt, but definitely enough to tickle the poor guy out of his mind.

Logan let out a shriek he didn't even know he was capable of producing, the wildest laughter ever exploding from his chest, snorts and squeals erupting from him in between—much to his own dismay. Wade, however, didn't think it was as bad as Logan did. In fact, he found it adorable more than anything else.

He wished he could hear Logan laugh like this more often—he was always so tense, never able to relax fully due to his own mind. If Wade was able to take his mind off of the thoughts that plagued him, even if for just a few minutes through something as silly as tickling, he would definitely do it.

...Which was why he continued to nibble at Logan's abs, making exaggerated eating noises as he did so, loud "OMNOMNOMNOM"s filling the space in the room that wasn't already filled with Logan's hysterical laughter.

"Ahahahahaa, Wahade, for fuck's sahahAHAke! Thahahahat's enoUGH! Seriously! Pleheheheheeeease!"

Wade blinked, pulling back for just a second to make a theatrical flabbergasted expression down at Logan.

"Do my ears decieve me? Was that... dare I say it... a 'please'?! You're begging? Oh, man, I must be dreaming. I'd ask you to pinch me, but seeing as you can't right now, I think I'll just pinch you instead."

Wade didn't give Logan time to process the blabbering that was coming out of his mouth before he started pinching at the mutant's ribs, going one at a time as he slowly made his way upward, leaning forward again to nibble at his abdomen simultaneously. Logan lost his shit, between the little pinches that tickled way more than he thought it would and the unbearable nibbling of his ridiculously ticklish stomach, he was going insane.

"Ehehehahahah—c'mohOHOhon! Stahahap it, no mohohohORE!" Logan managed through his hysterical laughter, slapping at Wade's arms, seemingly endless snorts being torn from his throat every few seconds due to how hard and how much he was laughing. His roommate simply smiled down at him and continued, expression filled with glee and pure delight.

"No can do, honey badger. This fic still isn't long enough, so I've gotta do a little more... unless I stop now and we hug it out for a few paragraphs..."

"Hehehell no, fuhuHUcker!"

"Well, then it seems like you're just gonna be stuck here for a while longer. Such a shame—y'know, I wonder how often I can do this without you stabbing me. Does daily sound good to you? I think that sounds wonderful, I wanna hear your cute little piggy snorts—"

Logan felt a burning warmth rising up his cheeks and at the tips of his ears at Wade's words, managing an annoyed (embarrassed) groan through his giggles, which were growing louder and more frantic as Wade made his way back up toward his armpits.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup! Gohod, I hahahahate you..." He retorted, letting out a squeak when Wade give a firm prod to his underarm in response.

"Now, now, my little honey pie, I know for a fact that's not true. People who hold hands while listening to Madonna can't hate each other. See, your problem is—AACK!"

Wade had been about to dive into a deeply comprehensive list about the reasons why Logan could never possibly hate him when he was promptly bucked off and onto the floor, rubbing at his head as he picked himself up. He was about to pounce on Logan and attack him with revenge tickles for throwing him off when the sight before him made his heart melt into mush.

The feral man was lying on back still, a smile still on his lips, a red color having bloomed across his cheeks, spreading up to his ears and down his neck. There was a sparkle in his tired eyes that hadn't been there previously, his hair all messed up from how much he'd been squirming.

Honestly, Wade thought it was adorable.

The merc sat down on the edge of the couch next to the still-panting Logan and gave him a little smile and tilt of his head, deciding to keep all his quips to himself for the moment.

"Feeling better, peanut?"

When Wade asked that question, Logan blinked and realized that yes, actually, he did feel better. A lot better, at that. He didn't think something so stupid could manage to take his mind completely off of what had been haunting him, but... he wasn't really complaining.

He sat up and tried to regain his bearings, pushing his shirt back down and running a hand through his hair, gazing down at his lap for a few moments before he looked over at Wade, not holding eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds.

"Uh... yeah. Um... thanks. For that. I didn't realize I needed it, but... you seem to know me better than I do." Logan said quietly, letting out a slight huff of air as a lopsided smirk made its way to his face.

Wade smiled at him, simply giving him a nod of acknowledgment for his thanks. Honestly, he didn't need to thank him—he would so tickle the shit out of him every day if Logan let him, which he wouldn't, but hey, a man can dream!

He wrapped one arm around Logan's shoulders, expecting the former X-Man to push him away, but found himself surprised when he didn't. He gave another internal celebration before he pulled him close to his side, giving friendly pats to his shoulder (this was probably about the non-gayest thing they'd ever done: the bro side-hug.)

"Anytime, peanut. Cures something in my soul to see ya smile, really, so I'd do it again."

Logan shivered a little at that idea, instead opting to just not think about it and instead relaxing into the gentle physical contact that Wade was slowly training him to become more used to. Hesitantly, after a few moments, he rested his head on his roommate's shoulder, expecting to be poked fun at for his action.

However, the silence that followed genuinely surprised him. Wade was too busy being completely enamored with Logan and how vulnerable he was allowing himself to be right now to say anything for once.

After a long while of silence, Logan was considering letting himself drift off here since the after effects of the tickle session Wade had put him through was hitting him, but the merc broke the silence before he could do so.

"...So we did end up hugging it out for a few paragraphs."

"Motherfucker—!"

[midnight-mourning]

Two Animatronics Dancing—Oh, and You. You're Here Too

Holiday Spirit! au Chapter 2

*peeks into tumblr, looks around, drops this and runs*

Anywho, this chapter was a bit of a struggle for a bit there, I also just randomly felt bad so apologies for the delays, please enjoy! I went for the kill :)

having said that, Content Warning: Borderline/implied suggestive content, reader discresion is advised.

Ao3 link for those who don't wish to suffer (you should come back once you're done and read the tags and take the poll tho >:)c)

Word Count: 7306

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Oh, I um—" You're still processing this is happening, you need to think, lest you make a fool of yourself in front of the king. 

You take a breath and bow. "My name is Y/N, your Majesty."

"Please, rise. After what you've done it's me who should be bowing to you." He chuckles, then waves you closer. "Allow me to thank you properly, if you would."

With a swallow, you walk forward, ignoring the tightening of the hold on your arm before it releases you finally. 

Once you make it to the carriage is when you finally pay attention to the others inside. Neither the younger prince nor the princess look happy to be there, though the princess seems to be greatly enjoying teasing her brother every few moments. The older prince seems aloof, annoyed, but when you catch his gaze he shoots a wink your way. 

Before you can think on it further the king is firmly clasping his hands around one of yours, shaking it. "Your quick actions have saved me quite the trouble. Might I ask how you had such knowledge?"

You give a—slightly mumbled—explanation regarding your work and your shop, to the king's delight. 

"Ah, so it's you who's been repairing my guards so quickly." The king chuckles. "I must say, fine work. Almost like new!"

You nod. "We try our best, your Majesty."

"I want to thank you for your work." The king announces, thinking for a moment, then snaps his fingers. "I'll be hosting a grand ball in three weeks’ time, I insist that you join in the festivities as the guest of honor."

Your eyes widen, putting your hands up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the older prince—god you're terrible with names, what is it again?—straighten up slightly, small frown on his features as he watches his father.

"Oh, you're far to kind, your Grace. I wouldn't want to intrude—"

"Nonsense!" The king scoffs, then shakes his head. "No, I've decided. I'll see to it myself that you get a proper invitation." He turns away from you then, addressing the crowd. "Three cheers for the smithy!"

The crowd responds in turn and you feel like curling in on yourself. Not just because of the attention, but because of the King himself. There was something about him, something behind those eyes and that smile that you found off putting. Which, not the attitude to have towards a man who could wave his hand to decide your fate, but you're trying here. 

Soon after, the precession begins again, and continues without any further issue. You're still processing the entire ordeal however much later as you sit in the tavern up the street from your home and shop. Said shop having received an abundance of visitors in the past few hours.

Consisting of either new customers, curious festival goers, or fellow villagers congratulating you. 

You didn't even do anything that major, you just unplugged a few wires!

Your crew gave you hell about it, their teasing was incessant once they found out the news. 

It all had been so much that when Bri walked in your shop with the proposition of getting drinks like old times you all but jumped at the opportunity. Tossing off your apron and gloves and leaping into her arms—an old inside joke you used to play on each other—and with a laugh she carries you out of the shop and to the tavern. 

Now, here you were, the sun long gone and a pint in your hands that you've been nursing for the past couple hours. You'd have drank more if you firstly didn't have work tomorrow, and if you could manage to get a sip without being interrupted by a thank you or the likes. 

After the last person leaves, having been one of the chattier ones, you set your forehead on the bar with a groan. 

Bri pats your back with her free hand. "There, there, o great and powerful smithy. People are just being nice. Eat it up while it lasts."

"I think if I 'eat' anymore I'll burst." You say into the wood, then turn your head to the side to look at her. "It wasn't even that big a deal, I don't know why he made it seem like such."

Bri tsks, taking a sip of her own pint. "He's the king. A major disruption happened during an event he was present for. He has to make a big deal out of it. Especially considering how bad it could have been."

You cringe at that. You'd found out after the fact that Bonnie's malfunction had caused him to not only lose control of himself, but prior to being tackled to the ground had attempted to point his weapon at the King. That had been the lone shot you'd heard, with the miss ending up in the sky instead. 

"Just be glad it's a one and done thing, could be worse in that regard."

You sigh. "True. Very true."

"You know, I wasn't expecting to see you out today." Bri looks up down to you with a soft smile. "You've come a long way."

You scrunch your nose. "Don't remind me. It's disgusting." You protest as she flicks your nose. 

"Getting through your grief isn't disgusting, you idiot. It's an accomplishment. One you should be proud of."

You sit up finally with a stretch. "Thanks. And what about you? What's new?"

"So much, and yet, nothing at all. I've missed it here though, I've been pissed off three years in a row that I wasn't assigned to come back." Bri huffs as you laugh. 

You grab your pint, taking a sip. "Guessing it's cause of the threats?"

"That's what everyone's thinking, but personally I think there's more to it than that."

That grabs your interest. "You don't say?"

"Yeah, and I'd say it's because so many animatronics have been acting up lately, but that just started when we arrived here." Bri shakes her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this, you're probably tired."

"No!" You say, then cough, trying again. "I mean, no I um, find it interesting. I'm the one doing all the repair work, you know. Is that really the best you've all been able to come up with is just beating them senseless?"

She shakes her head again. "No, that I'm not entirely sure on, but I've noticed there's been a large number of bots stationed in certain locations throughout the castle, and town, for that matter. Places that just seem odd, you know?" She takes another sip of her pint, finishing it and waving her hand for another. "But I swear, it's when they come back from those locations—already a bit banged up mind you—that the glitches start happening."

You take all this in like sponge. Then, licking your lips you ask—"Which spots out of curiosity?"

"Town, just look anywhere that there's way too many guards. In the castle it's been the library, the west tower, and the—"

"And just what are you two chatting about?"

You turn in your seat, finding Sun is standing behind you both. Behind him is Moon. 

Bri laughs, twisting to face them both fully. "Well look who it is! Didn't expect to see you two shmucks tonight."

"Shmucks is a bit harsh." Moon quips. 

Sun nods. "We prefer the term bozos, or fools."

The three of them chat back and forth for a moment before Bri remembers what she was saying. 

She turns to face you again. "Oh right, you wanted to know about the guards—"

"So, celebrating are we?" Sun interrupts, taking a seat on the stool between yourself and Bri.

You attempt to lean around him, but he sets his elbow on the counter, head in his chin, essentially creating a wall between you and Bri.

You frown. "We were, before you jutted in."

His grin only widens a tinge. "That's not much a greeting, friend."

"Well, considering you just now decided to acknowledge me, I could say the same to you."

You hold each other's gaze until a hand is set on your shoulder; Moon. He sits on the opposite side of you, taking your free hand to press to his smile.

"They're right, Sun. Good evening, Diana. How are you?"

You scoff, small smirk on your lips as you turn to him a bit more, ignoring the ticking sound behind you, and the tapping—of what you know is—a golden claw. "Just because you gave a proper hello doesn't mean you're any better."

"Late is better than never." Moon argues.

You reach for your drink again with a nod. "To some extent, I agree with you."

"I'll take that." Moon waves to the bartender, surprising you.

You keep your eyes trained on the pint that's set in front of him, then to him when he raises it to his mouth, pausing to meet your gaze.

"Something the matter?"

You're in denial. "You can drink?"

"I'm older than I look." He chuckles.

Your eyes narrow. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"We're living machines. We have thoughts, feelings, and pain." Sun remarks, and you turn in time to watch him sip his own drink. "With all that considered, it be cruel to not be able to."

You twist in your seat again, genuinely curious and outright confused. Be it your own impulse or the small amount of alcohol in your system, you reach up with both hands to hold his face. He's less than impressed.

You rub your thumb's over his cheeks, brow furrowed. "What material is this? It's... spongy."

"Decided to acknowledge me now, have you?" Is his mused response.

You huff. "Let's call it even. Answer the question."

"Silicon. I believe." He puts a hand on one of your wrists. "Now are you quite finished?"

You don't care to take the hint. Still examining. "No. Why the mostly constant grins then?" You glance over to Moon slightly to be able to address both of them.

"More appealing to the public eye." Sun states.

Moon shrugs. "Laziness."

You nod, releasing Sun finally and reaching for your drink. "Never seen the like before."

"Well, seems you don't know everything after all." You must have genuinely annoyed him, you can hear a whirring sound emitting from him, just above the sound of the crowded tavern.

Moon chuckles are you bluster at this. "Who said I did?"

"That's the word going around, after the show you put on today." He offers up.

"Hardly. Believe me if I knew it was going to cause that much of a fuss I wouldn't have—" You pause, remembering the alternative. "Well, I suppose I still would have."

Moon sets down his—now empty pint—waving his hand for another. "What's done is done. You did the right thing."

"Though maybe not the wise one." Sun mutters into his mug. But before you can question him on it he's looking over you to his counterpart. "I'm not helping you back if you drink yourself into a stupor."

Moon's eyes crinkle, resting his head on the back of his hand. "Aren't you such a good friend, Sunny?"

"We're not friends." He bites, looking away, cup creaking under the force his hands apply to it.

Moon must've not been expecting that response. His grin falters, then he tsks, facing forward and taking a long drink from his pint, setting it down again with a muted thud.

Silence. Then, a realization.

"Wait a moment." You lean around Sun easily this time. "Where's Bri?"

Sun hunches further over the bar. "Dancing. Left some time ago. While you were busy 'chatting'."

You glare at him at moment but say nothing more. You'll leave him to his brooding. You twist around to face the rest of the tavern, taking a moment then spying Bri among the dancing parties.

"Why that little—" You glance back between the two animatronics.

Of the two, Moon seems in higher spirits, contently musing over his drink now. You'll take your chances on him, then.

You stand, grabbing his hand. "Come on."

"You want to dance?" He sets the mug down, surprised, but stands up.

You start dragging him out to the floor. "Hardly. I want to give her 'what for' for abandoning me, but it's a partner dance and I don't want to make a scene." You turn back to him for a moment. "That a good enough reason?"

His faceplate clicks, then his surprise turns to his normal grin, snickering. "Enough for me."

"Good."

The two of you integrate into the group seamlessly. You've never been much of a dancer, but despite this, the two of you move well together. It's some jovial, upbeat, song, and you fall in step together well. Despite being much taller—and you think maybe just a tad tipsy—Moon makes a good partner. You enjoy it more than you were expecting to.

However, you remember your goal again when Bri dances by you, not a care in the world. You make eye contact and she grins at you, speaking just above the music.

"Look at you! Thought you weren't the dancing type."

You scowl. "I'm not. You left me!"

A spin about the room, then returning to your original positions.

"Oh, you were fine. I left you in good hands." She nods to Moon. "Isn't that right?"

He nods. "Indeed."

"Of course he's going to agree with you!" You huff, then shake your head. "I'll forgive you if we can finish our earlier conversation."

"Right now?" She asks and you nod. She's not even surprised, just protests. "But I'm dancing!"

You open your mouth to respond, but before you get the chance you're spun away again. You curse under your breath, glaring up to your dance partner.

"I wasn't finished." You state.

Moon bends so you're a little more eye to eye. "I know. But this isn't the time or place."

Your frown deepens. "Just how much did you hear—"

Moon takes the lead. Or at least, more so than before. The two of you begin to dance faster, grander, more elaborate. You can hardly keep up.

One moment you're on the outer edge of the circle of dancers, but now find yourself front and center, some space having been cleared out for the two of you to take the stage. The musicians begin to pick up pace to match your energy and you can't do anything more than focus on not making a fool of yourself. Much less think.

You're about to be protest being tossed around like a ragdoll when Moon spins you back into his chest, leaning down for a moment.

"Let go and let yourself enjoy the moment." He mutters, then spins you back to face him. "For once, don't worry about anyone but yourself. Please."

The sincerity in his tone makes you hesitate. Something about it striking a familiar chord. So, you relent, relaxing and letting the song take you.

Keeping up becomes easy after that. Simple. A smile growing on your face as you take joy in seeing if the animatronic can now keep up with you. And as he picks you up for a final spin you feel something you haven't for a long time. A sense of happiness you rarely feel these days. It's in that aftermath while people are cheering all around you that your eyes meet with a face watching you from the bar.

Sun's glare is scorching, posture far too relaxed for the frown he's wearing beneath that hardened gaze. Your eyes meet and your stomach twists. Triggering some long forgotten memory with faces you can't recall and names that are still deeply buried.

When you escape it, shaking your head to move it back to the recesses of your mind, you see he's facing away again, ordering another drink.

Had you been paying closer attention you'd have realized he was watching the entire time.

"Are you alright?" Moon asks and you look back to him You envy the fact that he's not out of breath like you. "I apologize. I suppose I got a bit carried away for a moment."

You take a few deep breaths, nodding. "Fine. Just next time? Ask before assuming I can keep pace."

"Won't need to." He says, leading you off the floor as another song picks back up. "Now I know your tempo."

The night ends for you sometime after that. You'd not intended to be out very long in the first place. And with those damn guards seeming hellbent on keeping you from talking to Bri—even while intoxicated themselves—there was no point to you lingering any longer. 

So, you say your goodbyes and leave the tavern, heading home. Your head hurts, either from the stress of today, or the stress for tomorrow, and maybe because of that last pint you chose to chug before leaving. Who's to say, really?

You're ever so curious to what's happening up in that castle, now more so than ever. While there's nothing you could do about it, you can't help but be concerned for what it all might mean. Not to mention, another child went missing this evening. Just before dusk this time. If your shop hadn't been flooded with spectators you'd have volunteered yourself, instead of just letting part of your crew go.

You think it may very well have been haunting you since, hence your insistence to ask about the damage to the animatronics. It was a distractor, a way to keep your mind from wandering and fretting over the what ifs. You shake away said with ifs right then and there, your siblings are safe. And you'll do everything in your power to keep it that way.

The crunch in the snow behind you alerts you to the fact you're being followed. It's late, and you have another few streets to traverse before you can get home. So, you stop. Reaching down as if to tie your boot but in reality are grabbing your knife. It's not much, but it'll get the job done when needed. And you're hoping it's not needed.

Slipping it into your sleeve, you stand up and turn around. "May I help you—you're joking."

"You're the joke if you thought you were going to walk home alone, Bright Eyes." Sun stands behind you, his tone not being nearly as intimidating as he thinks he's being with that slight sway to his stance. 

You scoff. "Some good you'll be. I can handle myself just fine, Pretty Bot." You feel your brows shoot up at that, likely matching the look on Sun's own features you're guessing. 

He relaxes quicker than you though. "You think I'm pretty? How sweet."

"Don't start. It was merely a slip of the tongue." You scowl, but take his hand when he offers it. The nickname troubles you. But you're too distracted by him leaning down into your field of view to think on it further. 

His gaze is half-lidded again, lazy. But you can still sense a sharp wit about him. "From my understanding, drinking makes you more honest, not less."

"Then I'll be blunt with you and say it was meant to be taken as an insult, how's that?" You say, marching forward finally. It's cold out here and you don't have time for his, whatever this is.

A pause as he thinks on it, nothing but the sound of your combined footsteps in the snow.

"Hurtful, but I won't hold it against you for suddenly becoming bashful."

You huff. "That's not—"

You're cut off as Sun suddenly spins you around and into a dip, bending low.

"Don't you dare drop me." You warn. Though his grip on your hand and back are firm, secure. 

He tuts. "Oh, let me have this, won't you?" He mutters something you can't quite catch, almost seeming to be staring through you before setting you upright again. Starting to walk again without another word. You call it a bit of drunken foolishness and let it go.

The streets are eerily quiet the closer you get to home. Of course, off in the distance behind you the noises of the night market still flit about. But down the road you're traveling it's nearly dead silent. It holds a peace that soothes you and your worries. 

Temporarily. 

"You shouldn't have accepted that invitation today." 

You look up to the sunny bot, brow raised. "And I suppose you believed I had much a choice in the matter?"

"You didn't." He shakes his head. 

You scoff. "Then what should I have done then? I shouldn't have accepted but I had no other choice."

"The castle is no place for someone like you." 

Your eyes narrow. "Because I'm a commoner?"

Sun stops, turning to face you. Both hands take your shoulders as he bends so you're eye to eye. 

"Because they'll eat you alive."

You swallow, frown deepening. "You're a big help now, aren't you? Appreciate the vote of confidence." You shrug yourself out of his grip, marching on without him. 

"Wait, that's not—" There's static for a moment and he rushes to catch up with you, almost falling in step quickly with his longer legs. "Please, forgive my wording, Celeste. I'm not the most fluent at the moment."

You huff. "Yeah I can tell—What did you just call me?"

"I, I'm only—" He doesn't get to finish, as right when he manages to catch up with you again, he slips on a nonvisible patch of ice, falling back into the snow. 

When you turn to look back at him, his eyes wide, you see a slight fear in his eyes at your still hardened glare. But the ridiculousness of the situation and how overtly frazzled he looks for the first time ever, makes your burst out laughing. You clutch your stomach and throw your head back, not a care in the world for who may hear you. 

It takes you several moments to calm down enough to lower your volume to quiet giggling, looking back to him with tears in your eyes. 

"I, I haven't laughed that hard in years. Thank you."

You see his rays spin, able to do so with his hat lying abandoned in the snow. Then, he shakes his head, grumbling as he tries to collect himself to stand. 

"Here, take my hand you drunken klutz,"—you extend it down to him, giggling again while he looks for his hat—"Behind you, Pretty Bot."

He twists around, grabs it, and before you can think further his free hand grips your own, and pulls you down with him. Your eyes widen, stumbling and falling on top of him, your knees landing hard on the packed snow around his torso. 

"Ow." You groan, looking down for a moment, before glancing back up to tell him off. "Was that really necessary—" You cut yourself off, you weren't expecting to be just inches apart. 

His hand comes up to hold your cheek, eyes focused intensely on you. "Yes. Definitely." 

You just stare at each other for a moment, well, you more so at him. It finally clicks what he's looking at when his thumb swipes over your lips. Your cheeks start to burn and you cough. 

"Your hand's cold. And my knees hurt. So I'm getting up now."

You don't have to shift out of his grip, he release you himself, hand letting go as if he'd been burnt. He keeps that same troubled look on his face as you both stand up and start walking again. At this rate you'll be surprised if you ever get home. 

But, you finally turn the corner for your street soon enough, the pull of being in your bed growing stronger by the minute. 

"What did you mean that you hadn't laughed that hard in years?" Sun asks in the quiet.

You shove your hands deeper in your pockets, looking to the ground. "What did you mean by 'they'll eat you alive'?"

Silence. 

"You first."

You scoff, but relent. "I'd say it was the grief, but that's only been a year or so." You shake your head. "I lost a part of myself to someone, a long time ago. They took my laughter with them." Your hand comes up to your necklace gripping it tight before releasing it. "Your turn."

"The two you ran into on the street last week are nothing in comparison to actual nobility. They see everyone around them as lesser, including those at the same or higher ranking to them. And I fear should you attend in three week's that we won't—" Sun falters, shrinking in on himself. "That I won't, be able to protect you."

You mull over his words. "Who cares?"

"Pardon?" He looks over to you, drawn out of his thoughts. 

You stop walking, turning to him and poking a finger into his chest. "Why would anyone care what happens to me, especially you? You hardly know me."

"Hardly know you—" He stands straight now, towering over you. "Why do you have such a lack of care for yourself? And why would time matter so much regarding whether I care for your safety or don't?  I—let me ask you, that child that went missing yesterday, or the one today, do you have any connection to them?"

You shake your head. "None at all."

"And yet, you went searching for them last night, and would have tonight as well had you been able to, no?"

"Of course. Without question." You shrug. "What's your point?"

Sun stares at you a moment, then laughs, bringing his hand up to his faceplate and gripping one of the rays at the top of his head. "You've answered your own question, Celeste. And mine." He shakes his head, looking back to you. "Do your knees still hurt?"

"Terribly. Thanks a lot."

He nods. "Thought so. My apologies, allow me to remedy it." Before you can think, he's scooping you up, one arm under the back of your thighs, the other your shoulders as he carries you bridal style the rest of the way to your home. 

Flustered, you allow it to happen, assuming he'll set you down once you get to the door. 

"Do you have your key?" He asks, not setting you down. 

"I, it's unlocked."

He nods, taking a moment to open it and then bending his head to step inside. He locks the door for you, then turns around with you still in his arms. Seems he was serious about this. 

Your living room is quiet, dark, and you spare a glance at Clara asleep on the couch as Sun takes muted steps back through to your kitchen, then up your stairs when you point to them. 

"You have a lovely home." He murmurs when he reaches the top. 

"Thanks." You whisper back. "My room's at the end of the hall, but stop in the nursery for a moment."

Sun obeys, allowing you to peek in and see that Gabe and Lisa are both sound asleep. You feel lighter as Sun walks the remaining way to your room.  He sets you on the bed, stepping back once he does so. The comfort of your bed underneath you almost makes you want to flop back then and there to sleep, but you resist the urge and take off your shoes and coat. 

You get up and walk past Sun to set them by your bedroom door, snatching up your sleepwear as you do so. You walk back and around to the opposite side of the bed, staring at him as he simply looks on. 

You make a circle motion with your finger. "You mind turning around? I don't have one of those fancy room dividers."

His rays spin again, hat tight in his hands. "Oh! Um, sorry. I should, leave." He turns to go. "Have a good night—"

"Stay." You just manage to snatch his wrist, having had to climb up onto the bed and reach out for him. 

He glances back to you, eyes wide. 

You shake your head. "It's late, it's cold, and I doubt you have enough of your wits about you to make it back to where you belong alive. Not after you're little spill earlier." You chuckle, then nod. "It's fine. Stay."

His rays tick to the left a few times, then to the right. Then, he nods. "Okay."

You let him go, sitting back and he turns around once more, unmoving this time. 

"The other two going to be alright without you?" You ask as you slip out of your clothes. 

Sun nods. "I told Montgomery where we'd be earlier this evening. And Captain Perry is more than capable of handling her own." He chuckles. "And her liquor. Of the two it would be Moon that would be of concern, but they'll be fine."

You snicker. "That's Bri for yah. And captain huh? She's been busy." You realize that your knife is missing, and you start looking around for it. "Shit, where did I put that..."

"You dropped this in the snow earlier." Sun holds up your knife, still facing away. "Such a large weapon for a small thing like you."

You scoff, climbing back over the bed to take it from him. "Hardly much at all. Do you consider everyone shorter than you to be 'a small thing'?"

He snatches your wrist then, turning slightly to face you. slight grin on his features. "Truthfully yes. But especially those who take more risks than they should, like an immature teenager."

"I'm two seconds away from headbutting you right in that smart mouth of yours." You mutter. 

"Proving my point~"

You take your wrist, and your knife back. "You know. I could have still been half-dressed. Then you would've seemed like a creep just now instead of slightly humorous."

That stupes him. He stutters out a rebuttal as you set your knife on the nightstand on the left side of the bed, laying back on it a moment later. 

"Well? Don't just stand there." You pat the bed beside you. "You're sleeping in here so I can keep an eye on you."

It takes him a moment, then he sits down with a tsk. "I have no reason to harm anyone in this house."

"I have no reason to trust your words." 

Sun removes his boots, then reaches up to unbutton his coat, revealing a white undershirt soon thereafter. "You trust me in your home but you don't trust the things I say?"

"Action speak louder than words." You quip as he folds the coat, setting it on the end of bed with his hat. The last thing he removes is the claw from his index finger, setting it on the nightstand on his side. "Not the gloves?"

"You wouldn't like my hands." He says, laying down, then turning over to face you. 

You remember the feeling of that claw on your face earlier in the night. You wonder what's so wrong with his hands if he believes they're any worse than that. 

"You're bed is small."

You huff. "It's not built for nine foot tall animatronics, you mean."

"Just eight, though I know someone of your height and stature could hardly tell. The entire world must feel large to you." He snickers as you roll your eyes. 

You feel bold, your last minute drink seeming to hit you now of all times. You grabbed his clothed shoulder, pulling him closer. "Then curl up a bit then. Make the most of the space."

Before he can protest, you reach down and pull his legs up, and then entangle with yours. 

Seeing his wide-eyed, open-mouth stare you scoff, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. "What? You think you're the only man I've shared a bed with? Only person for that matter? I was stuck in the nursery with Lisa for seven years, and she is simultaneously a cuddler and a kicker."

"I, I s-see." Is his only response. 

Now you can't ignore the burning across your face and ears. "It's only weird if you make it weird."

"Weird? I'm not making it weird, you're the one who's bringing it up!"

"Because you're giving me that look, stop it!" You hiss.

His hands come up and over his face, muttering something. 

Your face is on fire now. "Since when are you bashful? Seriously, this is nothing—"

"Your knee, Celeste. For the love of the stars, move your knee." He manages to get out. 

You glance down. "What—oh." You quickly pull it back towards your body. "Sorry."

"I can't understand you." He shakes his head, finally letting go of his face. "Not in the slightest bit."

"Maybe that's intentional." You chuckle as he scoffs. 

Sun glances over to you again, resting one hand by his head. "You're incredibly smart and yet, so foolish. Selfless to a fault and again, foolish because of it. You cautious to trust anyone, and yet you'll invite them into your home and your bed, and then act as if it's nothing! I just, you're so confounding."

"Would you like to know a secret?" You ask in the quiet. 

"I suppose I have nothing better to do."

You laugh softly. "I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes. Life's complex, it's made me complex. Even I can't wrap my head around it sometimes." You shake your head, looking away for a moment then back. "There's just, something about you that made me decide you should stay. And that's all there is to it."

Sun nods after a moment or two. Then—

"That's a piss poor answer, Bright Eyes."

The days that follow are filled with you doing your best to evade the two animatronic guards. Not because of what happened that night with either of them, though. Rather, you're trying to find out what's happening to their compatriots after your tip from Bri.

It's nothing more than a curiosity at first, but it occurs to you that they're actively trying to stop you from investigating further. Which only serves to take your curiosity to genuine interest, then to zealous inquisitiveness that almost starts to eat away at you a bit. Every nook and cranny you seek to turn over, they're there to lead you away or distract in some manner from it. The elephant in the room has doubled in size, and it's only a matter of time before it breaks through the floorboards, sending you all tumbling down. 

Not to mention, every night, like clockwork, there's a report of another missing child. The total number having grown to six. Everyone's in a panic, and very little can be done to soothe the worries of those who are fortunate enough to still have all their children accounted for. Yourself included. 

Despite their overall annoying presence the past week, you cannot deny that you do feel safer having one of them nearby while you go to and fro with your siblings in tow. 

There's something going on here, and you don't know the connection point but something has to be related between all of this, there's no way there isn't some link. The disappearances started occurring after the festival began, and Bri told you there wasn't these glitches happening back in the capital. But what relation the two have to each other, you don't know. 

And how the two guards watching your every move fit into it, you couldn't make sense of that in the slightest. 

"Musing to yourself, Diana?"

"Something like that." You mutter into your cup.

You were sitting on a bench near the grand tree in the town square. Lisa had asked you if you could visit the festival again today, and needing a bit of break yourself—for more reasons than one—you agreed. 

Gabe's sitting on the ground beside you, playing in the snow, while Lisa dragged the sunnier of the two guards out to dance with her among the others gathered in the square. Though, he didn't seem to mind. To his credit, he had seemed to prove to you he was good with kids.

Moon as well, as he bends down to toss some snow on Gabe's legs. Your little brother giggling and smacking his gloved hands into it. 

Moon sits up again, chuckling and nodding to your mug. "With how tightly your gripping that, I'd say you need something stronger."

"Shit. Sorry." You relax your hold. 

He takes it from you, taking a drink himself. "No need to apologize to me. It's not my mug."

"There's just, a lot on my mind." You sigh and lay back against the bench. "Too many things happening in what's supposed to be a quiet village."

"A lot of them aren't your problem though, are they."

You scoff. "They are and they aren't. Your pals are coming in to me by the dozen daily. Can't help but wonder as to why. Because we both know there's more than just, glitches, happening."

"And why do you think that?" There's still a cheekiness to his tone, but there's an edge of something else underneath. 

You look over to him. "Because neither of you have shown up once in over two weeks. I'm getting repeat customers by now, and yet, not a lick of damage to either one of you. I've been checking."

Moon stays quiet, but you hear the tiniest little creak on the mug. You continue. "And I think we both know this is past the point of coincidences. Wouldn't you say?"

He doesn't. He says nothing at all as he hands your mug back and you take another drink, downing the remaining warm liquid.

"And besides that, my bigger overall concern is keeping my siblings safe, first and foremost." You reach down and ruffle the hat on Gabe's head, eyes on Lisa as she spins about, not a care in the world. "I'm starting to worry about how well I'm able to do that."

You're surprised by a touch to your shoulder, jumping as you see Moon's much closer now. 

With a tenderness you weren't expecting at that moment, his hand moves to your cheek, words murmured, but firm. "Nothing is going to happen to them. I won't allow it. We won't allow it."

"You can't guarantee me that." You counter. 

"I can and I will. Rest assured, your siblings are safe, but if you keep up this meddling then—"

"Then what, Moon?" You feel your frustration rising again, but keep your voice even. "What do you know that you're so obviously hiding? What are you trying to keep me from finding out? Are you in on this? Should I be scared?"

This angers him, grip tightening just a tinge. "No, never! How could you think such a thing?"

"You haven't give me much reason to think otherwise based on your actions—ah!" You jump, pulling back after feeling a sting against your cheek. Reaching up, you touch the spot, pulling away to see a small speck of blood. 

Looking over to Moon, he's horrified, eyes wide as he stares at your hand. 

"Selene I—" He reaches out for you, then sees the claw and buries his hand against himself. "I'm so sorry."

You put your hand to the spot again, an even smaller drop appearing on your finger. It was just a prick. A tiny one. You relax. "It's fine. You hadn't meant to."

"That's no excuse." He searches around, finding a handkerchief on his person and handing it to you.

You wave him away. "There's no need for that—"

He takes your hand, setting the cloth in it and folding your fingers around it. "Take it. Please." He squeezes your hand gently before letting go. 

You raise the handkerchief to your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pulling away. However, Moon insists you keep it there for longer, pressing his own hand against the back of yours for a bit to ensure you do. 

"I apologize for accusing you. It was wrong of me." You say, watching the dancers once more. 

Moon chuckles, it's half-hearted. "You have a right to be suspicious. I understand."

"That's no excuse." You repeat his words from earlier, glancing back to him with a small smile. 

It takes him a moment, then he laughs again, more genuine this time. 

"Hey! Time's up!"

Both of you turn to see Lisa standing in front of you, hands on her hips. 

You raise a brow. "Time's up for what?"

"It's my turn to hang out with Mr. Moon!" She says, huffing. "He promised he'd help me build a snowman for the competition!"

Moon laughs, standing up. "I was going to keep my promise. But I didn't want to interrupt your dancing."

Your sister turns to you pointing at you, then behind her. "It's your turn to dance with Mr. Sun."

"I, what?" You ask. "Lisa I'm not—"

She grabs your free hand, pulling on you with a strength no eight year old should have. "Hurry up! He's going to look silly if he doesn't have a partner when the next song starts!"

"Go on, I'm more than capable of watching them both." Moon urges and helps you to your feet. "Allow me the chance to prove that I mean what I say. If you may."

You glance back to him for a moment, then over to where Sun stands, sending you a wave with a mischievous glint in his eye. He did this on purpose. You turn back to Moon with a nod, offering him back his handkerchief, he shakes his head. 

"Keep it. I have no need for it."

You nod again, stuffing it in your pocket and looking down to your sister. You flick her forehead and she protests, releasing you finally. You bend down to her height, stern. "Have fun, but behave." You ruffle her hand and stand up again. "Love you."

She grumbles out a 'Love you too' and runs over to Moon, who picks up your brother. You give them a final wave goodbye as you walk over to where Sun stands, hands behind his back, grin as wide as ever. 

"You're not clever." You quip. 

He rolls on the balls of his feet, then offers his hand to you with a bow. "And you, owe me a dance."

"Keeping score are you?" You take his hand and he leads you into a spin amongst the other dancers. "I'd say you're well ahead if that's the case."

Much like his counterpart, he dances well, leading you effortlessly through the song. "Ah, ah. Let's keep that little bit of information to ourselves, shall we? We wouldn't want the wrong people to hear about it."

You laugh, shocked. "And you're cheating! My, my. I took you for a lot of things, a cheater wasn't one of them."

"Cheating implies I've done something unfair, but is it unfair if he was doing it first?"

"'He started it!'" You mock. "That's you, that's what you sound like."

Sun hums, but you see that small twitch in his eye that makes you grin. 

"You're better at this than I'd thought you be." He examines. 

You huff. "I take it back. Now you're losing severely."

"That's not up to you to decide." He thinks for a moment. "But if it was, are you say, open to bribery?"

You laugh outright, and shake your head. Maybe Moon was on to something when he said you should just let go when you dance. Let it take your worries away for a while and just enjoy the moment. 

Because wow, if it isn't something when you do.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

And to think, we still have four more chapters :D Just you wait, it gets so much worse. (for you. me personally? having the time of my life)

Well, thanks for reading!

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

Bonus:

I left it up to fate that Sun would spend the night, like deadass (proof below)

So you can thank the wheel for that.

Buuuuttt I have another thing I'm debating (not nearly as intimate don't get getting ideas on me now) So,

What this was for will be revealed in the next chapter, and your implicit biases WILL be shown and i WILL tease you all for it /j

[loves-alibi]

say it

mdni

or: how you find out about vampire!soap (or x2: why you kick Johnny out)

tw: blood (duh, he's a vampire), dry-heaving, references to sex

vampire!soap masterlist

***** Johnny never breaks a sweat. It drives you crazy. You'll give the performance of your life, teasing him, sucking him, riding him, getting absolutely pounded by him, and Johnny doesn't have the decency to even pretend to be winded.

You're laying in bed, sweating like a pig after being stuffed like one for what felt like hours (because it was). Johnny's there too, covering your face in kisses and neck and shoulders with love bites.

"Do you have work tomorrow?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry, lass."

"It's alright," you hum.

It's really not, but there's nothing you can do about it. Johnny made it clear from the start that he was SAS and that his job meant he kept a very particular schedule. He has to be on his way to base in the wee hours of the morning, and can’t make his way to your flat until past sunset. And that's not considering missions, when you can't see him for days or weeks at a time.

You make it work, though. So it means you have to go out together only at night and miss mornings in bed with him. For Johnny, it's worth it.

"I have holiday soon," he says, "No more leaving you." Johnny presses a kiss to your lips before settling himself on your chest.

"Promise?"

"I pr–"

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Fuck," you groan, rolling out of bed. You begin to dress yourself as Johnny watches with sad eyes.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Comes a muffled scream. "OPEN UP!"

"Who's that?"

"The guy across the hall."

Somehow by moving into your flat, you throughly pissed off your neighbor– a sour fellow who drives a e-bike like it's a motorcycle. Every other day, he's knocking on your door with a complaint– turn that music down (you weren't listening to music), your cooking is stinking up the hallway (it was the lady down the hall– and it smelled delicious), tell your cat to stop meowing so damn loud (you don't own a cat, but that kinda was your fault. That complaint came after a night spent teasing Johnny, and you fear that the meowing might have been Johnny's crooning).

You throw on Johnny's shirt, but he stops you before you can pull on your sweatpants. He's pulling on his boxers, a sheepish grin on his face, "Let me take care of it, Bonnie. You need to rest up." Johnny sends you to bed with a kiss on the cheek and a tap on your ass.

You lean against the pillows, "I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh I didn't think you were," and with that, Johnny leaves you with a wink.

You hear the door open on the other end of your flat, followed by some choice words from your neighbor. You grab your phone to check the time– 8:39 PM –and roll your eyes.

You scroll through your phone as minutes tick by. 8:40. 8:41. 8:42. 8:43... By 8:50, you're pulling on your sweatpants and heading to the front door. It's closed.

"Johnny?" You whisper, creeping closer to the door. There's no response. You try again, louder, "Johnny."

Something big thuds on the other side of your door. You lurch for it, pressing your eye against the peep hole. There's... nothing. You're staring at the open door of the flat across the hall. No Johnny. No neighbor.

Your fingers brush against the cool metal of the doorknob. The door creaks as you open it. The hallway is empty.

"Johnny," you try one last time, trying to peer inside the dark flat. You creep closer, but a slurping and a groan cuts through the air. Not just any groan. Johnny's groan. Your feet just carry you into the flat without thought.

It's pitch black. You stick your hands out as you blindly move about. There's another groan to your right. The source of the noise is behind a couch. You move quickly, too quickly, and slip, landing on your ass with a fuck.

There’s a small puddle of something wet and sticky underneath you. It must be what you slipped on. You collect come with your pointer finger. It’s dark, thick, and red.

Three things happen at once. The first is the smell of iron assaulting your nose— nauseating you. This first realization is what leads to the second thing— that puddle is made up of blood. These first two events quickly become inconsequential at the third: Johnny, your Johnny, is huddled over your neighbor’s body, blood dripping down his mouth.

Before you can scream, a hand fixes itself over your mouth. Much like everything else in the dark flat, the hand is covered in blood. You press your mouth shut in a desperate attempt to stop it from entering your mouth.

“Bonnie, bonnie, bonnie,” says Johnny, panicked. “Please don’t scream. If I take my hand away will you scream?” You shake your head. “Will you run away?” You hesitate, and Johnny sighs. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” You nod this time, and Johnny smiles. Had his canines always been that long? Sure, they were always a bit longer than average, but now they look freakish, monstrous.

Johnny takes his hand away and you scramble back. He lurches forward and grabs your ankle. His grip doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong and enough to keep you rooted. Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re sure Johnny feels it by the way his pupils dilate.

“You— you killed him—“

“Listen to me—“

“You ate him—“

“I fed from him,” Johnny whispers harshly, and you freeze.

“Fed?”

What the hell are you dating?

“I’m going to let go of you so I can clean this up, and you’re not going to run, are you?” Johnny’s voice is so calm. You nod your head. Something tells you that even if you tried to run, it wouldn’t get you very far. “Good.”

Johnny navigates cleanup more comfortably than you’d like. Your neighbor looks almost entirely untouched, with the exception of the two mosquito bite-esque marks on his neck. Johnny lays him gently on the couch, draping a blanket over his body. Johnny offers for you to feel your neighbor’s pulse, you decline. He nods and turns to fix the coffee table, which had been overturned at some point.

“He’ll wake up fine,” Johnny explains, “With a headache maybe, but…”

He leaves the puddle for last. His eyes flicker between you and the blood, a sheepish expression coming over him, “I don’t know where the paper towels are…” He’s asking for permission to… oh God.

“Just do it.”

You turn away, shutting your eyes to avoid seeing the depravities Johnny’s going to indulge in. It’s not enough. The sound of slurping fills your ears. You’re going to be sick. A dry-heave makes its way up from your stomach.

“Please don’t throw up,” Johnny says, “I wasn’t lying about the paper towels.”

You start crying at that, sobbing uncontrollably. Images of Johnny over that unconscious body blind you. What the fuck have you been doing for all these months? How haven’t you noticed whatever the fuck this is? What’s stopping him from doing it to you?

Two strong arms wrap around you, hoisting you up and into Johnny’s hold. “I’m going to bring you back yo your flat. Is that alright?” You nod, unable to get a word out through your sobbing.

In your flat, you’re set down on the couch. Johnny sits on the far end, observing as you curl in on yourself. He hasn’t got blood on his face anymore. There’s still some clumped on the hair of his bare chest, but at least you can look him in the eyes without seeing the evidence of his massacre.

“I’m sure you have questions,” he says, eerily calm, like he hadn’t just drank the blood of a human. “And I’ll answer them, but I want you to know that I love you, and I wasn’t planning on keeping this from you forever. This is just…” He trails off, waiting for the words to come to him. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

You gasp, “Find out what? That you’re a fucking psycho? That you’ve been lying to me for months?”

“I haven’t lied to you, bonnie. Not once.”

You scoff, “Then what the fuck is that?”

“What do you think it is?”

You pause. Part of you wants to slap Johnny just for asking you that, but it doesn’t stop you for actually reflecting on his question. What do you think it is? As much as you’re scared shitless, you’d like to believe that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for why your boyfriend is drinking human blood.

Except there’s not. Because despite how unusual Johnny is, you’d never thought that he was that usual. He’s practically nocturnal, but that’s for work. And has long canines, but that’s genetic— plenty of people do. And he doesn’t like Italian food, but really it can be a lot sometimes, and with his garlic allergy? It’s—

Come to think of it, you’ve never heard of a garlic allergy before dating Johnny. And he’s awfully pale. And you’ve never seen him in daylight. And—

Holy shit.

For the first time in the last half an hour, a sense of calm washes over you. You smile at Johnny, and he mimics it, albeit confused.

“Johnny, dear, I need you to leave.”

Johnny stiffens, “What? I haven’t explained—“

“You’re a vampire,” you say, and Johnny gulps. You pause, allowing a moment for him to deny it. He doesn’t. “You’re a vampire, and retroactively, it’s quite obvious, I suppose. Though, that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to get the fuck out of my flat.”

“Oh—“

“Please get out.”

Johnny stands and slowly makes his way to the door. You see him out, smiling at him each time he turns back and gives you a questioning look. Eventually, he stands in the hallway of your flat, staring at you with those puppy eyes.

“I need time to think. Maybe when I’m done you can come back in, okay?”

Johnny nods, finally out of things to say. “Okay.”

With that, you slam the door in his face.

[beeholyshit]

part 2/3...??

part 1/3?

What can guilt make to you...?

[nattikay]

ear

The ears are definitely the part of the head that I've been dreading the most, because I've always struggled to make them work. I was never 100% satisfied with the ear results on past heads, so this time I'm trying a different method. It's based on TinnatuPaws's ear patterns, not actually printing and using any of them directly because I wanted that front border to have a slightly different shape, but taking the general method/idea. Took a couple hours to put together a working pattern because I only had a vague idea of what I was doing, and I guess the final look is pretty similar to TinnatuPaws's canine ear design anyways so perhaps it would've been easier to just use that one directly but w/e too late now. I think it turned out pretty alright, but of course the real test will come once I actually put fur on it.

These ears also probably look a tad on the large side for a standard housecat--that was intentional; I'm a bit worried about this head base being a bit too small compared to the other parts of the suit so I'm gonna try compensating by exaggerating the ears, head floof, and cheek floofs a bit. This base already has proportionally very large eyes so I think I can get away with it. Fingers crossed!

I did try on my previous head with the new body the other day to get a better idea of the size ratio and it looked alright, though while the base for my previous head is similar in size to this new one, I do think it might be sliiiiiightly larger overall, even accounting for the fact that it has fur and this one doesn't yet. Hopefully the difference won't be all that significant and I won't be walking around with a comically tiny head, but as with the ear method, the real test won't be till I actually fur it. So....we shall see.

[cementcornfield]

[immortalsins]

why is it impossible to do any work despite the certainty that everything will go to shit if i don't

[burningcomputerpersona]

ahhhhhhhh guess who made the mistake of getting a haircut

[shirogane-oushirou]

meowdy... <3

[womanfredvonkarma]

You can barely tell because I'm still, you know, posting, but the amount of time I spend here has decreased massively. Most of it was just scrolling out of restlessness and not actually wanting to post something lmao.

[e77y]

Procrastinating so hard even though this is a fun topic about my embarrassing old interest... It's literally an excuse to infodump WHY am I procrastinating 😭

[thornedswan]

It's strange for me having not been on this blog for a good bit, consistently that is. I hope each and every one of you could find a small joy in your day to carry with you. Remember to be gentle with yourself even when everything else comes down hard. You deserve nourishment just as much as anyone, you are not the exception.

[livvyofthelake]

ohhhhhh my god my lead actress's big brown eyes...... girl you're killing me......

[indigodawns]

.