#bonnie park

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

If Tom and Bonnie ever got married, what would the wedding look like?

I think they wouldn't bother with a wedding. I headcanon them trying to adopt kids for most of their early adulthood — stuff in Eleutherophobia that's way in the future of that AU, if I ever get around to posting it. And everything I've read online says that getting married ASAP is an important first step to adopting. Throw in the fact that they'd be blending cultures (so they're never going to please everyone) and their collective practical streak, and I think a $500K ballyhoo just wouldn't be them.

[heavymetalluvofmine]

being a woman is such a beautifully cruel thing.

feeling pretty and having long hair, putting on makeup and nice dresses, having girlfriends and dancing to anything and everything but in the same breath there’s never being taken as seriously as a man, afraid to just exist past a certain time, being something to stare at for sick men, unexplainable rage. sigh.

[0harpies]

Fnaf au? 😭

[luxbunn]

credits ୨୧

[sgiandubh]

I always read the comments on Sam's posts, because some are very cringe and that sometimes amuses me. Well, on a post by Sam on March 24th, there was a comment from a guy called Steve, from what I saw on his profile (when it was still open) he's a guy who lives in Glasgow and he's a climber, on his profile he had several photos of indoor climbing and outdoor climbing. In the comment he said that he saw Sam early in the morning in a park walking with what must have been Sam's little nephew, but he didn't approach because he was with his little daughter and the daughter was having a tantrum because she didn't want to go home. A fake account (without a photo and with a meaningless name) then asked him if who he saw with Sam was a child, because Sam's nephew is a young man. He responded the boy was approximately his daughter's age (three years old) and definitely a toddler. Then the sock account said it wasn't Sam and he replied that he was sure it was Sam. The fake account responded to him aggressively. When I saw the whole story, I left a message on his profile explaining why that fake account was being so aggressive towards him. He thanked me, made his profile private and deleted the comments he made. I don't know if someone took a print, but I thought it was very strange that Sam is walking very early in the morning in a park with a toddler. But I don't know if his brother has other children so I was keeping this to myself 🤷‍♀️.

Dear (returning) Spring Morning in the Park Anon,

I have been sitting on your submission since exactly...

I have nothing to add to it, except your returning submission, which I think is so damn satisfying and comforting. I will black out the geotagging reference, though, for reasons I do hope everyone will understand easily:

And then I was watching something molto divertente on RAI 1, was very well disposed and decided, on a whim, to publish it. What the hell.

Have a wonderful week-end.

[vampirecatprince]

The way that the costume designer intentionally put Lillard in an outfit that mimics Spring Bonnie though????

Love it so much

[andreamoonlight143]

Billy.

[whatlovelybones-if]

"the screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain" THE WHAT?! YOU DARE AVERY??? AND WTF J???

What would happen if MC and J were about to kiss, but MC suddenly stopped and just apathetically stared at them and said that they resented them for not being their first kiss, and just left? 😂😂

(Also, did MC have a some sort of relationship before the story began, or is that left for headcannon?)

it started with a simple statement.

“i won’t be riding back with you today,” J said.

you didn’t mind, not really. of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with them, but you could understand that they had their own life and sometimes their plans didn’t line up with yours.

“anything special you got planned?” you joked while closing your school locker, but you feel your insides wither and shrivel like a crumpled flower when they give you the actual reason.

“avery wanted to take me home today,” J said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal but the embarrassed pink on their cheeks give them away.

you had a feeling whatever was going to happen today, you wouldn’t be liking it at all. on top of that, J was acting weird as hell. not to mention that this avery person had been someone they’d been weirdly close the past couple of days.

you also happen to know that avery lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and J took to get home every day. avery wasn’t just giving them a ride; it was something else. the more you thought about it, the more it sounded like a date. a motherfucking date.

you felt your heart starting to weigh three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, “oh, sure, that’s fine.” and then, before you could stop yourself, you found yourself stupidly asking, “so did they ask you out on a date or something?”

to save yourself the embarrassment and act nonchalant, you find yourself ruffling their hair slightly. if J noticed that you were forcing it, they didn’t let it show. instead they just laughed nervously, trying to fix their hair, and said, “actually, i was the one who ended up asking them out.”

wonderful. you wanted to scream, but you managed to give them the fakest smile you could. “i’m so happy for you.”

J picked up on the hint that maybe you weren’t feeling as happy as you’re saying you are because they asked, “are you alright, teddy?”

that nickname hurts even more now as you nod, “of course, why wouldn’t i be?”

one of J’s love languages has always been physical touch and everything just gets a lot more complicated; their hand on your back is warm, the inky dark eyes that stare back at you are kind and worried, the full pink lips that you wish to kiss look so inviting. they smell the same as always: leather, strawberries, spearmint, and marlboro red smoke masked by a fancy cologne/perfume.

“did i do something wrong?” J asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

you can’t stand it. the concerned look on J’s face as they ask you what’s wrong when everything is wrong right now. it’s wrong that they can’t see how much you love them. it’s wrong that they can’t see how loving them has become second nature for you. it’s wrong that they can’t see how you don’t want to be just their best friend.

knowing them, you know your best friend is probably imagining a thousand different scenarios of how they must’ve hurt you. but you know that they didn’t hurt you, they could never do that, at least not intentionally.

then you do it. you actually do it. one of the stupidest things you have ever done in your 15 years of existence.

you leaned in and kissed them.

the look on J’s face makes you wanna crawl into your own skin and die. their body had tensed up, their lips frozen open, parted but not uttering a sound. all of that was enough to tell you that it was fucking mistake. so you do the only thing that made sense to you at that moment: you turn and run outside like a fucking coward.

time seemed to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. the only sound that could be heard was the rain. heavy, rhythmic, and coming down without pause. you don’t even feel the chill setting in as your whole body burns with the shame of what you did and the image of J’s reaction only makes your skin crawl more.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

you run across the parking lot to get to your car and book the hell out of the school campus. you utter a loud curse when you check your pockets and realise you left your car keys in your locker.

you’re soaked to the bone and you aim a swift kick at your car; panting like you just ran a marathon, hair sticking to your neck and cheeks, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.

tears? no, you’re not wrong, you can feel the saltiness mixing up with the rain and pouring down your face. you haven’t cried in forever. at least not in a genuine way.

why in the world did it have to J of all people that you had to fall for? they had been your best friend since you were kids, always a constant and comforting presence in your life. almost a decade of friendship down the drain because of your stupid feelings. it wasn’t worth it at all to lose your best friend like this.

your best friend who’s now calling your name. a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. your breath hitches but you ignore them. there’s no way you can face them, not right now.

“for god’s sake, you can’t just kiss me and walk away! hey!” J yells out.

“go away, J! i really don’t want to talk to you right now.”

they catch up to you, refusing to let you run off again. “and why is that, hm?”

“i don’t know!” you answer, throwing up your hands in exasperation. “i’m ignoring you right now.”

“well,” J continues to stubbornly come closer, “i am ignoring the fact that you’re ignoring me.”

you give them a glare. “that’s not how it works.”

J matches your challenging glare. “fine then. tell me why you kissed me and i will leave you alone.”

“i kissed you because i love you, you daft dumbo!” you nearly yell, frustrated beyond reason. ignoring the dumbfounded look on J’s face, you continue, “i’ve loved you ever since we were kids. i love your eyes and how they sparkle like stars when you’re talking about music. i love your voice and how it soothes me whenever i’m having a hard time. i love how you know me and know exactly what to say to make me feel better whenever and wherever. i just love you so much and i cannot stand the thought of you with avery. i will get over this though, J, just give me some ti—”

in a heartbeat, they lean in and their lips are on yours. you can’t help the gasp which slips out of your mouth, too surprised, too tense, and J holds your face dearly like you’re something precious, pressing your lips and body against theirs with something akin to desperation. both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.

when the kiss ends, it’s because both of you are completely out of breath. J doesn’t let the space between the two of you grow any further, though. they instead press themselves further against you, your bodies fitting like perfect puzzle pieces.

“don’t get over me,” they plead, the taste of strawberry in your mouth, forehead against yours, dark eyes fluttering close. “don’t ever get over me.”

“b-but,” you stutter, head still spinning, “what about avery?”

J groans, following it up with a chuckle. “one date and i think even they’d be able to see it.”

“see what?”

“how you are the one i’m in love with.”

before you can even process what they just said, they lean in again to seal it with a kiss.

[incorrect-fnaf-quotes]

Glamrock Bonnie: Freddy, you’re like an angel with no wings.

Glamrock Freddy: So... like, a person?

[dollyiia]

[madness-of-the-masses]

Randy killing children high as balls is really funny to me

This was for a discord art comp /I was testing a new brush

Also yh the cupcake is just a png of the god awful funko plushies

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

do you have any thoughts you'd like to share about Jake and Bonnie's relationship in the Eleutherophobiaverse? i feel like we don't see those two interact very often, but i'm curious to know what they think of each other. does she just see him as her boyfriend's morose little brother? what is her perspective on his role in the war or his relationship with Tom?

Bonnie's stepping out of work, squinting at the sunlight, thinking of getting a taco or 10 before she heads home, when the phone in her purse goes off.

"Crap," she says tiredly, since it's probably her boss with some kind of breaking news. But she flips it open, and holds it her usual 6 inches from her ear. "Good afternoon," she says, speaking loud. "This is —"

"Bonnie Park, right?"

It takes her a second to place why the voice sounds familiar. When she does, she almost drops the phone.

She's waved to him twice, coming or going from Tom's place. She's heard complaints about his double-dipping a spoon in the peanut butter jar. She recognized him on sight even before the war, the freshman with a locker three rows down from hers who always seemed too distracted to remember his own combination. She watched him bleed, and kill, and nearly die, in hundreds of hours of the footage she edits and sends to her manager.

But this is the first time she has spoken with Jake Berenson. And a part of her can't help the silent scream of excitement and nerves and, yes, a little bit of the fangirling that every zombie tends to do with regard to the Animorphs.

"Yeah, this is Bonnie." Thankfully, her voice comes out normal. Not quite inflected, but normal. "Jake, right?"

"Yes." He takes a breath. "Are you free right now?"

Bonnie looks at the phone, even though there's nothing to see but rows of buttons. "Yeah, I'm just getting off work. What is it?"

"It's Tom."

She closes her eyes for a second. A part of her knew that was coming.

"Would you be able to come by the house?" Jake asks. "It's half a mile north of the mall, first development after the giant Sears parking lot, with the dark red roof that has a board over the rear dormer window."

Bonnie does not point out that she'd be coming in a car, or that she already knows where it is. "What happened?" she says instead.

"I just think Tom could use you right now."

****************

She doesn't ask any more questions, just drives there. At the entrance to the suburb, she passes a cluster of news vans parked at a stop sign. One lady is out and being interviewed on someone's lawn, and two other people are sitting in not-so-incognito sedans a further block in.

Thankfully, the rest of the street is deserted, and when she pulls into the driveway hers is the only car there.

Jake steps out the front door as soon as she shuts the rust-squeaky door of her sedan. He's dressed for morphing in black spandex shorts and a stretched X-Files t-shirt, but Bonnie can't tell if that's a bad thing or not.

"Thanks for coming," he says, like this is a dinner party.

Bonnie considers offering a handshake, decides that would be stupid. Instead she falls into step next to Jake as he turns back to the house. "Something happened with Tom?"

"They moved him."

Bonnie stops walking for half a step at the cold anger in his voice. Then she gets a hold of herself and moves again. "What? Who?"

"Sorry." Jake runs a hand over his face. "I'm not explaining this right. Margaret White's in jail."

"Oh. Oh." That explains the cluster of reporters, at the very edge of the blackout zone.

"Tom was involved somehow." Jake holds open the front door of the house for her; she steps inside. "When the cops got there, Margaret had been knocked out with a dracon beam, the guy she was trying to kill had gone back inside to call, and Tom was... non-responsive."

Non-responsive could mean all kinds of things, for a zombie. But Jake already knows that.

Jake's already barefoot, walking into the kitchen. After a second's hesitation, Bonnie slips off her shoes and leaves them next to the welcome mat.

"And you're not sure what happened, with Margaret," Bonnie says. "Because he's still unresponsive now."

Jake turns back, at the door to the living room, to look at her. "The cops," he says. "They moved him. When I got there he was inside the house, and the scene lead said they'd practically had to drag him away from the crime scene. Her word. Drag."

They step into the living room. Tom is sitting on the couch. He's dressed for morphing too, that horrible skintight uniform in dark red and gunmetal grey. Normally Bonnie thinks he looks like sex on two legs when dressed that way, but right now all she can think is that it was custom-tailored for Visser Seventeen.

"Hi," Bonnie says to him, even though he's sitting limp and staring at the far war. He can still hear them, can still see her if she walks into his field of view. "Jake called me. I'm pretty sure he's thinking of a cop-killing spree, but if anyone asked I don't know anything about it."

"I'm not going to kill anyone," Jake says, so quickly that Bonnie regrets joking about it. This is a kid who really has killed plenty of people, after all, including a fair number of innocent zombies. "They should be demoted, not executed."

"Oh, they absolutely should have known better." Bonnie sits on the armchair across from Tom, looking at him even as she continues talking to Jake. "This is freakin' A-Town, USA. Don't act like you've never seen a zombie before."

"They thought it was schizophrenia." Jake crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. Also keeping himself in Tom's line of sight. "At first they told me they had the whole thing handled, and I didn't need to get involved, and then they asked if 'the witness' had a 'minder' he should be with."

"So they thought you were, what?" Bonnie glances his way. "Just stopping by to... fight crime?"

Jake shrugs.

"And anyway," she says. "Even if it was schizophrenia, I don't think you're supposed to drag someone with that either. And it's still dickish to assume he needs constant supervision. Schizophrenia, PIABS, potayto, potahto."

"Pee-aabs?" Jake asks.

"Zombieism." Bonnie wonders if she should regret saying dickish in front of the kid. In front of the celebrity. But then, he lives with Tom. He's probably heard worse. "We have an official dictionary entry now. Post-Infestation Affective Blunting, and anyway fuck those guys."

"Fuck those guys," Jake agrees. He straightens up, stretching. Leans in a different position. Switches back to the first lean.

Bonnie can empathize with that restless energy, even if she's not a fidgeter anymore. They both know they're doing what they should be — talking calm and level, not putting any demands on Tom but letting him know they're here — but it doesn't feel like enough.

"Margaret White, huh?" Bonnie asks.

"You met her?" Jake walks toward Tom, stops short of touching him, turns to walk back across the room.

"Sure. Seemed fine. Kinda dour, but that's pretty standard for Matter Over Mind."

"You can't know what someone's capable of just by talking to them," Jake says.

Bonnie... does not know what to do with that one. And by the time she comes up with something polite, the interval for a normal response has long since come and gone.

"You want some water?" Jake asks. "Soda? Coffee?"

They're in for a long night, since among other things Bonnie's pretty sure that Tom owes the police a statement. "Coffee. Thanks."

"Great." Jake steps out of the room. He makes a lot of clattering noises from the kitchen.

Tom sits in silence, staring at the far wall. Bonnie sits with him, and moves about as much as he does.

"Coffee!" Jake comes back, two mugs clutched in one hand by their handles. "Here's..." He slips one mug onto the side table, drops a carton of creamer and an entire half-pound bag of sugar from the other hand next to it, and retreats back several steps with his own mug.

"Thanks." Bonnie picks up the carton, takes a cautious sniff. It's french vanilla, which is a crapshoot flavor if ever there was one.

"Don't tell my parents?" Jake says, holding up his own mug in indication.

The former Commander in Chief of the Earth Resistance doesn't want Bonnie telling his parents he had coffee at night. Huh.

And yes, in case anyone was keeping track: she's dying to ask for an interview. She's talking with the most sought-after source on the entire planet, possibly in the galaxy. Talking about coffee.

But contrary to what her mother would say, Bonnie does have some sense of boundaries. And she does occasionally know the meaning of the words not the time.

"Mum's the word," she says, and takes a sip.

[heavymetalluvofmine]

“𝒾’𝓂 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓁ℯ 𝒿𝓊𝓂𝓅 𝓇ℴ𝓅ℯ 𝓆𝓊ℯℯ𝓃 ྀིྀི”

[0harpies]

One more time baybee

The autism is winning! /J

(im like pretty sure i spelled kyles last name wrong)

[instaquarius]

A NEW FNAF SECURITY BREACH AU, WHAT??????? (You can see the progress WIPS and random lore dumping on my twitter: https://x.com/Instaquarius/status/1827914091438178646)

[where-is-bonnie-isat]

Bonnie's having a fun time totally not being hunted at Indigo Park!

Bonnie is having a fun time at Indigo Park!

This place sure looks fun! I’m sure nothing could ever go wrong!