#more fics pls lol

[reizeken]

a collection of lebron and steph flirting full on, since ITS MY TIME, LEBRON/STEPH SHIPPERS STAND UP

THEY'RE IN LOVEEEEEEE lol

[roxiusagi]

✨Cultivate: Slow Life on a Monster-Infested Mountain✨ by @neonghostcat - fan covers in the design style of seven seas danmei publishing ✿

sooo.. I know it would be more appropriate to post these once the fic is fully finished BUT i got too excited and was waiting too long already to post these hdjfhk and today is cultivate anniversary so appropriate excuse to post lets go!!! anyway theres only one chapter left to go so ppl who have been waiting to read it until its done the time is NOW! hahha

anyway fun fact this was originally going to be just 3 parter. but. at this point cultivate has surpassed svsss in word count if i am not mistaken......so ive decided that adding one more volume would be appropriate lol

oh well and here are the pieces by themselves

also... just to clarify im obviously in no way shape of form comparing myself to the quality of actual seven seas cover artist lmaoo hdjshf i hope thats obvious that this was just fun gimmick passion project

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

Of Warriors and Gods.

[crybaby-bkg]

I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

[mitskikissme]

My very rushed love letter to @rowdyknives fanfic what it means to love her. hes such a talented writer no jokeee

[hayaku14]

the new kaishin merch goes crazy

[weskie]

To Make Your Heart Sing (Albert Wesker x ftm!Reader)

3556 words, fluff, hurt/comfort, s.t.a.r.s. wesker, ftm!reader, top surgery mention, coming out, main character injury, soft wesker, established relationship | Fic Directory

some truths are simply hard to tell. still, they must be told

You tried your best to keep things under wraps.  

RCPD’s human resources department knew of your ‘condition,’ but the file that landed on Captain Wesker’s desk a year and a half ago mentioned nothing of it.  You were just, well, you.  And that’s all you needed to be.  You were hired and the rest was history.

Or it was supposed to be.  Instead, you found yourself getting into the best of trouble.  Make no mistake, Captain Wesker intimidated you to no end.  Suppose that’s why the first time you turned a corner and the both of you knocked into each other left you a stuttering mess while you tried desperately to help him pick up the stack of paper he’d been holding.  The other officers who had been in the adjacent break room had the luxury of watching with bated breath to see him chew you a new one for such a careless mistake.

But he didn’t. 

The next was when you’d overcooked your food in the microwave, leading to a loud, wet pop and spaghetti sauce all over the insides of the machine. To your embarrassment, your captain was beside the coffee pot, brow arched just above the rim of his sunglasses as you sputtered and chuckled your apologies for both the mess and the noise.

You could’ve sworn he smiled.

Then there was that day you’d been running late.  You called the precinct from your clunky Nokia, begging for forgiveness from your captain.  As a peace offering, you offered to bring him coffee from a local shop, stating that it was “so much better than the liquid tar in the break room.”  His silence had scared you half to death, but his acceptance carried the strangest hint of amusement.  Black with two sugars, he’d told you.  When you’d finally arrived and delivered it, he took it directly from you, fingers brushing yours and making your cheeks light up.

That was the first time you’d ever seen more than a miniscule smirk on his face.  

Not to mention that time you’d pulled overtime and, upon entering to deliver yet another report, you’d found Wesker with his head resting atop his folded arms on the desk.  To this very day, you still had no idea what came over you to retrieve your S.T.A.R.S. jacket from your desk and drape it over his back.  You’d returned the next day to find it neatly folded atop your desk with a sticky note that simply said ‘Thank you.’

When the day came that he cornered you in the break room, black coffee with two sugars in hand from another one of your late mornings, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“I want to take you on a date.” 

Your eyes practically fell out of your head and your cheeks went up in flames.  You were stunned.  Captain Wesker was into men?  Not only that, but he was into you? You didn’t know what to say, what to do– anything.  You must have sat there blinking with your mouth agape for minutes before he’d finally just hummed, snagged a napkin and wrote his number down for you.

“If you find it agreeable, call this number later.  We can… work out the details then.”  

Looking back on it, he seemed just as nervous in that moment as you felt.  Not that you could blame him.  You figured he must have observed you for a long time to gauge if you’d be receptive to advances from another man, but the risk was still high– rejection, risk of harassment accusations… all sorts of bad outcomes must have been weighing on his mind.  But, that night, you called him.  Awkward as it had been, you both settled on a restaurant an hour outside of the city to reduce the chances of you two being seen by the others from the station, and the rest?  Well, it had progressed slow and steady, but your secret relationship with Captain Wesker, now simply Albert to you when appropriate, had entered its third month.

Which is why you’d grown nervous.

You didn’t know how to tell him.  At some point, things would progress beyond warm kisses and tender touches.  At some point your… anatomy was going to matter.  You wish you would’ve told him before all of this began and saved yourself the potential heartache of losing what had been the sweetest, gentlest relationship you’d ever had.  You worried yourself sick about it, always careful never to wear tank tops or shirts bright or thin enough that the tone of your chest scars could show through.  Your testosterone shots were easy enough to hide, thankfully.

Albert had been nothing less than a pure gentleman throughout it all, never once pushing your boundaries or showing impatience when you’d shy away from things.  Even the night you’d both fallen asleep on your bed consisted of little more than a hand resting atop the small of your back and your face nuzzled against the comforting rise and fall of his chest.

But, try as you might to hide it, Wesker had picked up on your anxieties.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?”  

Your heart fell through the floor the night he’d asked that.  You swore up and down over and over again that it was nothing he’d done and that you were just dealing with something that you didn’t know how to put into words.  He accepted your answer without question, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and continued reading the file he'd brought home from work.

Your mind always turned to thoughts of how you were going to tell him, distracting you at the worst times.  Which, of course, put you in a situation where you had no choice in how the truth would come out.

The bulletproof vest had saved your life– for the most part, that is.  Gunmen in a hostage situation had released a young girl, sending her out to run toward the blockade.  She was to be a message, clearly, because they fired at her as soon as she got close.

You bolted out to cover her, mind devoid of sense the very moment you saw one of the men emerge from the building.

You took two to the chest with the first simply lodging into the center of your vest.  The other managed to pierce, embedding in your right pectoral.  You’d laid between squad cars and the steps to the bank for god knows how long, shaking fingers applying as much pressure to your wound as you could muster while the sun beat down on you without mercy.  The next thing you knew, you were being thrown into an ambulance and given the good stuff, and you woke up after who knows how long in a hospital bed.

Your first visitors were Rebecca and Jill.  You’d grown closer with them than most of the others– save for Wesker, of course.

“How are you feeling?”

You simply answer Jill with a lopsided smile and a hum, tipping your head back against the pillow.  “Mm, yup.”

“I don’t think the pain meds have worn off yet,” Rebecca giggles from across the room where she inspects the whiteboard covered with hastily scribbled patient information.

“Lucky him.  Should let Captain Wesker know he’s at least feeling good when we go back.  He’s…”  Jill turns to you with a sweet smile, clearly pondering her words.  “Distraught is a… is a word for how he is right now..”

That, of course, breaks your heart.  He was there when it happened.  Albert saw you go down.  Silly you, covering the girl they’d released…

Your eyelids grow heavier as time goes by, eventually slipping shut while you bask in their company.  When they open again, you’ve got two nurses at your bedside.  Even in your dazed state, you can put two and two together.  Just a change of bandages…

“Hi, sweetheart!” Chirps the woman closest to you while she peels away tape and gauze.  “You bled through so we’re just cleaning you up, okay?”

You simply nod and stare up at the ceiling.  It doesn’t hurt, thankfully, and the only thing you feel is cold air on your chest.  Part of you shudders.  Medical settings could be… complicated with your unique condition.  But you try not to anticipate the worst.

Oh how wrong you are.

“You can come in,” says the other nurse.  “Just replacing his bandages.  We’ll be out in a few.”

The hum in response yanks you from whatever blissful stupor the pain meds had lulled you into and you shoot up in the bed, shocking the nurse tending your wound.

“Careful, baby! You’ll tear your stitches–”

You barely hear her, nor do you feel her hands attempting to coax you back to the bed.  You go down, but not before locking eyes with your one and only.

Fuck…

They’ve got the top of your gown off and there’s no way–

You swallow thickly as your throat closes with a wave of shame.  You shut your eyes to hide the tears gathering within them, listening intently as Wesker’s nearly silent footsteps come to a halt on the other side of your bed.  He sees you.  There’s no way he doesn’t.  He’ll have questions.  Fuck, maybe he’ll just know outright.  Wesker’s a smart man…

You should’ve told him.

You keep your eyes screwed shut for what feels like eternity, even after the door clicks and the nurses leave you to each other’s company.  Neither of you says a word and it’s nearly pure silence until you hear the drag of a chair.  You just about jump out of your skin when his fingertips graze your knuckles, but they don’t retreat.  Instead, he takes your hand in his, lifts it, and presses kiss after kiss to it.

Your eyes crack open, vision bleary from tears and clearing as they spill.  You find him looking at you with furrowed brows and some painful combination of worry and relief written across his face.  His glasses are hooked on his shirt, showing you icy blues with a touch of red in the surrounding scleras. 

“How do you feel?”  His voice is as calm as ever, but, for once, his expression betrays him.

“Like I got shot,” you rasp.  You crack the tiniest smile despite the swirling dread and anxiety filling you to the brim.  You observe him for a minute, looking for something, anything to confirm your fears.

You find nothing.

“Indeed,” he hums, lips twitching at the corners.  “I’m glad you’re in good spirits despite the tears.”

You give a weepy chuckle that turns to tight sobs.  You feel so helpless and pathetic.  You’d almost died and now your little secret had been put on wide display for him.  Part of you figures this is just the universe’s way of telling you to get on with it.  Just finally rip the bandaid off.

You suddenly start to rise from your flat position.  Wesker watches you for signs of discomfort, taking his finger off the bed controls only once you were upright and–

Oh fuck– no, no, no!

They hadn’t buttoned your gown earlier.  The front section falls forward and you scramble to push it back up, holding it in place as you clench your eyes shut and bite your tongue.  His hand leaves yours and your stomach drops, ice shooting through your veins. For a minute, you think he’s leaving, but then–

Snap.  Snap.  Snap.

Your eyes widen, gaze falling to the hands working to pinch together the little buttons that run along the seam at your shoulder.  Wesker leans across you just slightly to repeat the process on the other side.  His scent fills your lungs and you can’t help but take a deep, greedy breath, chin quivering all the while. 

“Would you like to stay with me while you recover?”  He asks softly, taking his seat once more.  “Or would you prefer if I stayed with you instead?”

It’s so earnest that you could scream.  Part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding the elephant in the room.

“I imagine the comfort of your own home would lend itself better to your recovery,” he continues, taking your hand in his once more. “But I am not averse to either choice.”

“Al, you don’t have to–”

“You’ll need the help.”  He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.  “I assume you’ve had restrictions like this before.”

That cold feeling runs through your body again. He’s not avoiding it.   

“Yeah…”  

And he’s completely right.  You will need help.  You doubt your restrictions will be as tight as those you had after top surgery, but you did take a bullet to the chest.  Two, technically…

“I want you to think about it.”  Wesker checks his watch as he speaks, rising from his chair with a small huffed breath.  “My break is nearly over, but I’ll try to come by again before visitation hours end.  You should rest some more.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow once again, eyes fixed on him as he pushes the chair back to its original spot.  Wesker approaches your bedside again, hand raising to rest against the side panel controls.

“Up or down?”  He asks, voice soft.

“Mm, somewhere in between please.”  

Your eyes lock with his as you descend.  That same tenderness still dances in his gaze– the kind he saves for you and you alone.  Despite the tendrils of anxiety tugging at your mind, you find such an act soothes you to the core.  Wesker breaks eye contact for a split second to glance behind himself, ever the private man he is, and he leans over you.  His lips press to your forehead first, warm and soft, and his right hand rises to your cheek to thumb at the curve.  He holds that position for a moment, breaking it only to press another to your lips.

“Hm,” he hums, breaking away to glance at the monitor.  He chuckles softly.  “Your heart rate just jumped.”

Oh god, you think it yourself.  You can practically feel your cheeks go up in flames, but you giggle nonetheless at his cheeky little observation.  “Well, you know… handsome blonde guys named Albert do that to me.”

He leaves with a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, much to your satisfaction.

They keep you at the hospital for another full day just to be safe.  Wesker spent his lunch break with you again, during which he reminded you that he would absolutely be aiding you while you’re under physical restrictions– you need only pick the place.  He’d been positive your own home would be better, so that’s what you opted for.  

Much to your joy, you weren’t excessively limited.  No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity– all the usuals.  You were to have two full weeks off before returning to simple desk duty.  Wesker picked you up, duffel bag of his necessities already packed in the back seat of his car, and brought you home.  Things were stellar until you realized he wanted to do just about every little thing for you, convinced you would cause yourself further harm.  Cooking was out of the question, so he made you meals that you could’ve sworn belonged in a gourmet restaurant rather than your little apartment. And laundry?  Forget about it.  You practically had to wrestle a handful of socks and towels from him so that you could feel less like a deadbeat.  Wound care, though… that was where things got tricky.  Wesker insisted that he be the one to change your bandages, and he did so twice a day, which was more often than was even recommended.

“I said I would take care of you.  What kind of partner would I be if I let you walk around in old bandages, hm?” 

It had been hard to let him do it.  Despite knowing full well he had a clear view of your chest in the hospital, you were still apprehensive to let him see it again.  No questions had been raised in regard to the origin of your scars, but that was somehow worse.  For a time, you figured he chalked it up to some sort of wound obtained in the field, but the day came where his hands wandered and a fingertip trailed the line running beneath your left pectoral.

“I…” You try, swallowing thickly to quell your nerves.

“Tell me about them.” Wesker breathes, finger still running along the ridge, pausing over the parts that weren’t quite perfect.

The worst part of everything?  You know full well you could just walk away and he’d leave it.  Al never pries; he always respects your boundaries.  'No' has always been a complete sentence to him, something you’ve appreciated endlessly in your time together with him.  But, all the same, wasn’t it time you gave an inch?  The man so endlessly patient and sweet to you, despite how he presents himself to the rest of the world, deserved the truth.

So you spill.

“I’m transgender…”  You murmur, words tight in your throat as you stare down to your socked feet.  From there, the rest falls free.  Every little detail.  Childhood woes, adulthood struggles– how happy you were the day you got your very first shot of testosterone and how you felt like you had a new lease on life itself when you woke up from your chest surgery all those years ago.  A tear or two escapes you as you tell your tale, but they’re not the bad kind.  No… they come from something else entirely.  A joy you could never put to words, a cresting wave of pride that you’ve come so far and lived so well despite every bump in the road, a sense of self that felt like wings upon your back…  With every story, you find yourself meeting his gaze more often until you’re looking right into those icy blues.

If Albert is dissatisfied with your revelation, he doesn’t show it.  Instead, he stands before you and listens intently to every word.  Without his glasses, you can see his eyes soften at certain parts, but it's the way his hand doesn’t quite leave from where he’d touched your scar before that keeps you hopeful throughout the entire ordeal.

“And I– I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just…” You exhale hard, eyes dropping with the weaning of that miracle burst of confidence.  “Telling people is… difficult.”

“Did you think I would react badly?”

You didn’t expect such a question, let alone for it to be asked so gently.  “I… yes and no.”  You chew the inside of your cheek as you ponder the way to best explain it to him.  “Not everyone is kind about it.  I didn’t think– it wasn’t that I thought you’d be mean about it, I just… I didn’t want you to feel like I was lying to you…”

Wesker’s eyes flit to the side for a brief second.  “I understand.  Though I fail to see how you would’ve lied.”

At that, you let out a breathy little laugh, eyes closing as you shake your head.  “So you’re okay with it?”  You ask finally, hand rising to rest over his that still lingered at your chest.  The anxiety returns and you worry the side of your lower lip between your canines.

“I am,” Wesker hums, offering you perhaps the softest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen grace his face.  His free hand reaches for the one that hangs loose by your side, holding it tenderly as he leans forward.  At first you think he’s going for a kiss, which you happily prepare for, but he presses his forehead to yours.  You allow your eyes to flutter shut, same as him.  “I’m afraid you’ve stolen my heart, my dear.” He pauses for a moment, brushing his nose against yours. “You are who you are.  I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

At that, there’s simply no helping the way you throw yourself at him, arms wrapping around him as tight as you can without agitating your wound.  He returns your embrace immediately, palms stroking up and down the length of your back, perfectly warm against your skin.  

There’s one last thing to tell him.  Something that’s been in your heart for a while now.  He deserves every truth from you, and you’re all too happy to give it to the man who assigns you heaps of reports at work and makes your heart sing at home.

“I love you.”  You murmur against his collar, smiling big and wide at how his arms tighten around you.  “I really, really love you.”

“Good,” he hums.  Wesker rests his chin atop your head, swaying slightly as if to music that wasn’t there.  “Because I really, really love you, too.”

You giggle at his mimicry, but, in truth, you’re overflowing with joy.  It’s as if the sun itself has risen in your chest to hear those words, but that is simply the effect Wesker has on you.

What bliss to know you warm his heart the same.

[dunderella]

barnaclive AU commission for crispy from the firestorm discord!!!!

shinryu!barnabas showing his favor for his squire 18!clive... 😳💐

edit: kaede has started posting the fic that this comm was for! go read it!!!

[kaz2y5baby]

I'm going back into my Top Gun obsession phase. I was kinda hesitant on reading Top Gun fics but...Ajajaisjdh

I NEED Maverick x Iceman fic recs so badly

I just rewatched the 1st one and like omg Maverick had so much more chemistry with Iceman than Charlie lol

[mechaness]

First of many

So much had happened. Nasiens had found her biological family, she found out about herself, she almost died... but now her hero was with her again.

When the battle was decided, a few words were exchanged and someone gave Percival a cloak so he could cover up. He hadn't even realized he was naked. He apologized, though it was clear he didn't see the issue.

After a while, her new family (she had to present them to Ordo as soon as she could!) left her alone with him, sharing knowing smiles.

Nasiens couldn't stop looking at him.

Percival... She smiled.

"So you are a fairy now? That's so cool!" Percival's voice was so soothing to her. How had she missed his smile!

"Yes... I'm not used to flying, though..."

"But now we can fly together!" Percy said, laughing. He grabbed her hands and gently lifted them up. Nasiens was shocked but soon started smiling again. A little spin in the air, and she was laughing along with him.

"I just can't get used to the height..." she admitted looking down, feeling cold sweat in her forehead. It had been fine in the battle, but now... She looked up at Percival, thinking how silly she was being. Something gleamed in his eyes.

He threw her one of his winning smiles and she felt her heart stop.

"Well, that's easy! Just keep looking at me!" His face was too close to hers, but then again, he had never been good at respecting people's personal space.

And Nasiens couldn't think of anything better to look at than his eyes. He always managed to calm her down. She could do anything as long as he's with her.

"See? You can fly really high if you want!" Like a spell being broken, she looked down. She almost let out a scream. They were so high up she could barely see the ground!

Her arms moved on their own, hugging Percival. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, trembling.

Percival was shocked. Not because of the hug, he loved Nasiens' hugs, as different as this one felt. However, she felt like dead weight. Had she stopped flying?! Of course she wasn't in any real danger as long as he was there to hold her, but...!

"Nasiens?!" He could hear her mumbling nonono again and again, "I'm sorry! I thought...! Are you ok?" He was so worried about her and Nasiens was still trembling, but she managed to answer,

"Ye-yeah..." she looked up. She was again at a loss for words. She knew Percival was still Percival inside, but he was really big now, and tall, and... she could feel her face aflame. "Yeah, I'm... I'm good. I was shocked, I guess..." she couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.

Percy was silent for while before he spoke again.

"You really feel different now, uh..." Nasiens eyes widened at his comment.

"Wh-what do you mean? Is it bad?" Percival's silence made her a little nervous. He wasn't looking at her anymore. She forgot to ask again though, since they landed in the hollow part of a cave, up in a mountain, and the sight amazed her.

"It's beautiful..." she said. Percy agreed, but he wasn't looking outside. His eyes were fixed on the pretty girl he was holding by the waist.

Screw pretty, he thought. Nasiens had always been beautiful, but now... It was like a whole other level. The way she held herself felt different. Also,

"You got boobs now!" he shouted, almost giving her a heart attack. She almost tripped, blushing like crazy.

"Ye... yeah..." she put her hand on her chest. They weren't even that noticeably, but... "the whole thing feels weird..."

"Bad weird?" he sounded genuinely curious.

"N... no, I don't think so. I never felt bad being called a boy, but now... I like this. Being a girl, I mean. It feels right, but I'm... not used to it yet. Not completely, at least. Is that weird?"

"I don't think so! Anyway, Nasiens is Nasiens, no matter what! You are amazing!" when he looked at her, he could see that gentle smile of hers that he loved so much.

Nasiens was so grateful. Of course Percival wasn't fazed. He was just Percival. He hadn't even questioned her change, something which she she was grateful for. She couldn't even imagine how she could start explain the whole thing to him.

She was thinking how much she loved this side of his and was so deep in her thoughts, she didn't realize when Percival got behind her.

"You gotten slimmer too, right? Right?" his poking sent shivers down her spine. What was his obsession with her back?!

Nasiens felt her face aflame again.

"Please, don't do that!" she almost screamed, taking a step back.

"Why? Can't I touch you?" he sounded so innocent, she almost felt bad. But when she looked up again she saw how serious he was. She felt taken back. He had never looked at her like that before, not like this.

How could she tell him that the only thing she wanted was for him to touch her all over... it was just so embarrassing to admit!

She felt her true feelings coming forward before she could stop herself.

"Well, if you a-!" a flashback made her stop. A painful memory crossed her mind and she felt silent.

Anghalhad.

She felt her blood boil.

"...you know what. I think it's best that you don't." She turned, not before giving him the iciest look he had ever seen. That kind of look was never directed at him! Percy got worried.

"N-Nasiens?! Are you angry at me? I hate it when I make you angry!" he ran to her. He grabbed her hand so she couldn't get further away from him. She flinched and stopped, but she didn't look at him. "I'm sorry, did I say something bad?"

"You got Anghalhad to touch, don't you?" she said, immediately regretting her words. It wasn't Percival fault, or Anghalhad's for that matter. Plus, she knew Percival didn't understand these kind of things! She barely could, after all.

"Yeah, I guess..." Percival's voice made her angrier and she felt so ashamed. She took her hand back, snapping at Percy.

"See?! Go to her for all I care!" she looked down, hiding her eyes as best as she could. She couldn't face him like this...

"Wha...?! No! I don't want to! I want to stay here with you! Nasiens!" he grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her a little. He had to make her understand...!

Were those tears?

"Nasiens...? What's wrong?" she lifted her arm, trying to wipe her tears with her sleeve.

"I... I'm a horrible friend! I don't hate Anghalhad, I actually like her... but thinking about you two...!" she put her hands on her face, trying to control herself. "Who am I to say anything? You are free to do whatever you want...! But I hate it! I hate the thought of you two-!"

Percy hugged her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. She felt his hand grabbing her hair, same way he had done early that day.

"P... Percival?"

"I won't touch anyone else!" he exclaimed, shocking her. "I don't really get it, but I thought of some else touching you and that made me angry, so I guess it's the same for you? Is that it?"

"Ye... yeah."

"Is it because you love me?" Nasiens felt trapped. She was about to protest when...

"Cause I love you too!" he said, his smile so bright it blinded her. He caught her so out of guard she almost fainted.

"Well," he continued, "I love all my friends... but with you... love falls short. Does that make sense? I want to hold you forever..." Percy said, snuggling to her. Looking down he saw her eyes, so full of hope and love, he couldn't help but smile. Nasiens smiled back.

"Y-yes, it makes sense. I... I feel the same way." Nasiens couldn't believe it. She confessed! She managed to do it and now...

"Good!" he grabbed her waist again, lifting her from the ground, "then it's settled!"

Nasiens felt tears forming again, this time from happiness. Things could be so easy with him sometimes... but then she remembered their little argument. She blushed again.

"A-about before... I don't mind, you know... but, you have to ask."

Percy was confused for a moment. Then it hit him.

"Really?!" he had pulled her down a little. His face was so close to hers...!

"Ye-yeah."

"Can I, then?" he asked. His lips were so close to hers, she felt her heart about to explode.

"Yes..." she tried to close the distance and...

"NASSIE! Percy! Dinner time! Come on, where-! Oh, there you are!" Tioreh shouted, appearing out of nowhere.

"...what are you two doing?" she asked, innocently.

It was a rare sight, if you asked her. Nassie with her face all red, pushing Percy away. Her hand was on Percy's face and he looked miserable, ignoring Tioreh and trying to get close to Nassie.

"But you said I could...!" he whined.

"QUIET, PLEASE!"

Tioreh had never seen Nassie so embarrassed. It was fun!

Later that night...

Nasiens couldn't believe it. They had almost...!

But the moment had been ruined.

She put her hands on her face, sighing. Maybe some other time... She was fixated in the fire next to the log she was sitting on, deep in thought.

"Nasiens! I was looking for you! Look!" Percival's voice took her out of her trance. She looked up to see him better, confused in what was she supposed to be looking at.

He placed a white flower on her hair.

"I knew it! It suits you!" he said, making her blush yet again. She gently touched the white flower with her fingers. "You look beautiful, you know!" Nasiens felt her blush deepen. She was going to get a fever from blushing so much...

"Thank you, Percival..." she smiled at him and he smiled back, love in his eyes. He sat down next to her and she rested her head on his shoulder, sighing.

"Man, that sucked, uh?" he suddenly said, looking down at her. "I really wanted to kiss you."

Nasiens was definitely getting a fever.

"Re-really? Honestly, I did too..."

Without much thought, Percy turned and grabbed her by the waist, surprising her. He flew them away from the dinner and the rest.

In the air, with the moon shining brightly, he looked at Nasiens. He smiled, closing the distance between them.

"Can I?" he whispered.

Nasiens laughed. He really took it to heart to ask first.

"Of course...!"

Their laughter filled the night. At least for tonight, everything was going to all right.

[chryblossomjjk]

[puhpandas]

Between The Lines

(7,832 words)

Tony thinks that there's something about Freddy and Bonnie that make them seem closer and different than the other Glamrocks. It takes him a while to realize that there isn't on the outside like he thought, and that maybe, he just sees himself and Gregory in them. And that a certain drawing Gregory has given to him might tell him that Gregory had the same idea.

Greg and Ellis had looked like kids in a candy shop when theyd entered the West Arcade for the first time since the Pizzaplex reopened.

Just like all the banners strung about have advertised, theres brand new arcades and games to try out around the place. The place is fuller, not only due to the sheer amount of guests, especially because of the return of Bonnie, but also because of all of the new cabinets taking up space.

Tony had been content just following his friends as they floundered over what game to play first. They had such big smiles on their faces while wandering around... itd been nice seeing them like that. Tony knows Gregory has been having trouble lately. The whole GGY thing takes a toll on him, even after it's been over for months. He's not much different, but... Greg definitely has it worse. Tony's just glad he's loosening up for this.

Even Tony, who hadn't ever really cared for arcade games, can notice just how many new games have been added to the Faz-Cade. Every step brings his attention to a new cabinet here, another one there, all with new themes and art he's never seen before.

Despite how much he likes to be aware of everything around him, he usually can only focus on one thing at a time. His friends voices are only background noise to him while he gazes at all of the new sights in the Faz-Cade. They're saying something about grinding for points and scores, but Tony cant focus when he's just admiring some particularly cool art.

Subconsciously, his body stops along with his friends when they suddenly quit walking to admire some other cabinet. He startles at the change, and goes to open his mouth, a question already on his tongue.

But he never gets it out. His head doesnt turn, and his eyes catch onto a certain arcade game to their right that's angled directly for the cabinet art to be staring right at him.

The bright and contrasting colors of the two characters in the drawing are all he needs to see to recognize them at first glance.

It's a drawing of Freddy and Bonnie; the colors bright and art angled to look dynamic on the curve of the games' outer shape. Its brand new art, Tony's sure of it. Theres been multiple of Bonnie across the Plex so far since he's returned.

He would know.

Freddy and Bonnie... Tony doesnt know why, but he just cant stop looking at the art of them on the cabinet. They're shoulder to shoulder, bodies leaned onto each other and looking at eachother from the corner of their eyes. Not their instruments or who would be the viewer... eachother.

Its like they're in their own little world, Tony thinks. He doesn't know why he thinks that. He's never noticed a difference before. Is there even one? Has there ever been this kind of closeness in promotional art with characters like Roxy and Monty or Chica and Freddy?

Maybe he should get another opinion. He tilts his head, never taking his eyes off of the art on the cabinet over. "Hey, guys? Does this art of Freddy and Bonnie look--"

"Midnight Motorist!" He's cut off mid sentence by Ellis' exclamation. Ellis takes off from his side, and it finally tears Tony's eyes off of the drawing of Freddy and Bonnie. He races to a cabinet a few over and is bouncing in place looking it over. "I cant believe this is one of the new ones they added!"

Gregory is the next to leave his side after that, heading to join Ellis at the cabinet and blabbering on about something himself. But Tony finds it hard to listen when his mind is still stuck on the brand new official Freddy and Bonnie art for some reason.

He shakes it off, leaving it for another time. He knows sometimes his curiosity can take over his brain in the middle of something sometimes. He just... doesn't understand what there is to be curious about this time. It doesn't eat away at him like curiosity does to him every time, though. This time doesnt feel the same.

He shakes it off again, this time shaking his head physically for good measure. Later. He thinks. He leaves the cabinet and joins his friends by Midnight Motorist, and begins to catch their conversation.

"Do you think we can get the first high scores on it?" Greg is asking when Tony gets there. Theres a kind of rare wicked grin on his face. "Just imagine. Setting an example for everyone else before they can even try themselves."

Ellis huffs a laugh, and eyes Tony when he stands beside Greg. "Hey," Ellis grins. "Wanna watch me set the first high score ever on Midnight Motorist?"

Tony smiles, eyeing the completely empty Best Players screen. "Sure."

To Tony's suprise, Gregory let's Ellis play first and waits his turn until he's done. Ellis steps up to the cabinet, and Tony is content watching Ellis get to know the game and his steadily racking points.

The two of them have formed a little huddle around Ellis' shoulder. His shoulder. For some reason, Tony and Gregory arent on each side like they should be. Theyve decided to squish into the left side of the cabinet and watch from there.

Why? Tony's thinking. Theres a weird feeling in his stomach that he cant identify. Why didnt they split up? They're shoulder to shoulder and theyre pressed so close together Tony is hyper aware of Greg's presence.

He feels his voice reverberate through his own arm and it makes Tony's cheeks burn and his thoughts scramble to come up with a reason.

He cant find one, he realizes. The chimes and music of the game in front of him kind of fade into the background while he tries to think about it more. His brain runs at a million miles an hour, and hes half aware of the thoughts in his head and half aware of how his heart is hammering in his chest at the same time.

Its confusing to him why he cares so much. Why this one little simple action has made his thoughts run so wild.

But while searching for why he and Greg are so close instead of far apart, for some reason, in response, his mind conjures up the art of Freddy and Bonnie.

"Yeah!" Greg cheers beside him, and Tony startles slightly, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt as he comes back down to earth. His voice is right in his ear and Tony doesnt know what the weird feeling in his stomach is. "You got this, Ellis!"

He breathes out, deep but quiet and slow. He tries not to be obvious, but after the past few months, he shouldn't be suprised when Greg somehow notices.

He twists his neck over to look Tony's way, and Tony makes himself look back. Theres concern swimming in Gregory's eyes that Tony's so familiar with from over the past few months. When Tony would be struggling with the GGY incident and Greg would try his hardest to help him.

"Hey," Gregory asks, voice hushed and soft. Despite the loud button presses and the music coming from the cabinet just besides them, Gregory's voice reaches him so clearly. "are you okay?"

Tony doesnt respond immediately. He just stares, and ignores the twinge in his neck from how hes leaning his head back from the proximity. For some reason, he flounders for words.

"Uh, yeah." He says after a second, offering a smile. "I'm, uh, okay, Greg. Don't worry about me."

Gregory doesn't respond immediately, just looking at him a bit longer. Despite the inches of height Tony has on Gregory, his presence just feels bigger. Tony dares to flick his eyes, and deep blue meets gold.

Another moment of silence passes, and it feels like it drags on forever. Then, Greg nods. "Kay." He says, then turns back to the cabinet screen.

And that's that.

The feeling in his stomach doesnt go away, and along with the exchange neither do the thoughts. He tries to focus on Ellis' high score and having a good time with his friends, but he keeps being aware of his arm pressed against Greg's and the way that hes so close to him.

He doesnt know what's going on. He doesn't have anything to think about it that isnt jumbled and incomprehensible, so he tries to leave it for another day. He takes a breath, calming himself and the storm thats going on inside of him that's leaving him wondering and confused, and watches the car move back and forth on the road on the screen in front of him.

During it all, flashes of blue and orange keep appearing in his minds eye.

-

If theres one thing Tony had missed since getting Gregory back, its seeing Greg enjoy his art.

He'd never taken it too seriously, just drawn the Glamrocks and himself and his friends a few times, and always just for fun. But that's the point, isnt it? Tony... Tony may take his writing seriously, but that doesnt mean Greg would have to take his art seriously. That's something Tony's learned the past few months.

That you should appreciate chilling and having fun while it happens. GGY wasnt something easy to come back from. It wasnt easy to have seemingly recovered very fast from his attack and gone back to school while still grappling with what happened. Especially after it'd only taken a day or two for the real Greg to show up at his house and tell him what really happened.

The point is, Greg hasnt really touched a pencil and paper in a while. At least... not that Tony's seen.

He understands. He really does. Even Tony hadn't touched writing for a little while after... everything happened. He needed time to process everything, and writing was just never something he'd wanted to do, despite it being something he has fun with.

Greg just needed time, is all. But even Tony couldnt stay away from writing forever. He's picked it back up relatively recently. He just wishes Gregory would do.

Which is why when he goes over to Greg's house; a small apartment where he lives with Vanessa, Tony immediately is drawn to the sight of colorful paper and pencils on Greg's desk.

And on one page, two very distinct colorful characters standing next to eachother peeking under a couple other papers.

"You're drawing again." Tony says with a smile when he walks over to Greg's desk.

Gregory doesnt respond respond right away. It gives more time to Tony to just admire some of the newest art Greg's drawn obviously recently. Theres some of himself, some of people he knows, like Vanessa and even him and Ellis, one of a girl he doesnt recognize, and lots of Freddy.

But Tony's eyes keep being drawn to the orange and blue peeking out from under the more recent papers, and his right arm twitches, wanting to reach for the paper and pull it out to look at it.

It's a strange urge, one that doesn't feel quite like curiosity but has no other name Tony could put to it. It gets the better of him, and before Greg can utter a word from behind him, Tony reaches out and pulls on the corner to slip it out from under the others.

"Wait!" Greg yells from behind him. It's a little loud, and when Tony turns around, he looks a little sheepish, along with something else Tony doesnt have time to put a finger on. "Uh, which one is that?"

Tony raises a brow, but he let's his eyes fall back on the drawing of Freddy and Bonnie. He holds it out to Greg, trying to smile. "Uh, this one."

Gregory doesnt say anything, just walking up to his side and looking at the drawing himself. Theres an expression Tony cant place on Greg's face, and he cant help but feel like hes maybe done something wrong.

"I'm sorry," Tony blurts out, lowering the drawing. His brows furrow as he turns to look at Gregory. "should I have, uh, should I have not looked at your drawings without asking?"

Immediately, Gregory's shaking his head, waving a hand. "Uh. No. You're fine." He says slowly, and he's glancing at his desk and the corkboard hung above it with old and new drawings hung on it.

"I display them myself. Its..." Greg trails off, looking deep in thought for only a split second before he says, "it's... okay for you to see them."

Tony's quiet for a second, but his heads nodding and hes blinking shortly after. "Okay, good."

"Here." Greg says, coming up to him with a new small smile on his face; usually, all of Greg's smiles are small, so Tony can notice when ones real or not. This one... it's real, but also a little... nervous? Theres an undertone to it that Tony cant place, but any thoughts he could have had about it wash way when Greg's standing next to him again, bringing up the page in his hand he'd held out of sight back in view with a gentle hand. "You can see it."

Tony holds the page like its porcelain glass, his grip gentle and careful. Greg has the other side, and the paper is longways; meaning Greg's pressed against his shoulder again.

It... theres that weird feeling, again. But Tony doesnt really pay it any mind right now. He just admires the drawing Greg's offered him to see and takes in all the details.

In the soft sunlight of Gregory's window, it gives him plenty good view to see the art. Its good. Its really good. Tony knows Greg is a good artist, but... this is better than he thought it would be. Tony takes in the details, the line strokes and the color choices and even the little blocks signature in the corner of the page. He smiles instinctively.

"Its... good." He mumbles, voice quiet, but earnest. The drawing is of Freddy and Bonnie, colors bright and popping like they were on the arcade cabinet back at the Faz-Cade. This reminds him of then, Tony realizes. The drawing is similar, and... it gives him that same feeling. That same wonder if theres something else there between Freddy and Bonnie.

They're standing beside eachother, and the pose isnt as dynamic at the cabinets was. They're facing forward, but looking at eachother. They have one arm on each instrument, but the others that are in-between eachother just... hang limply. It makes Tony's brows furrow. It doesn't fit with the pose Greg was going for.

This whole time, Tony realizes, Greg had been watching his reaction. He suddenly becomes aware of Gregory looking at him and how hes holding the other side of the page and how their shoulders are pressed together. How their hands are hanging limply next to eachother. His fingers twitch and burn, and so does his face.

"You like it?" Greg is asking, and Tony tries to ignore that exact same strange feeling in his stomach he's been having to answer him. His mouth feels heavy and locked shut, and he stammers.

"Ye-Yeah!" He manages, managing to keep looking away from Greg's eyes and at the drawing in front of him. He smiles, and it's real when he says, "Its-- Its great, Greg. Its amazing."

But then Gregory is silent for a second too long, and Tony dares to glance over. It's the exact same time Gregory switches his gaze to the drawing and shifts his body.

Greg takes his hand off of the page, pushing it gently with both towards Tony's chest. Theres a smile that stretches wide across his cheeks when he says, "Its yours."

Immediately, Tony sputters. "What? But--" He gapes. "Yo-You dont have to do that--"

"Its fine." Greg cuts him off, smiling at him. Tony finds himself going quiet and staring. "I... uh... I drew it for you in the first place."

Tony gapes, unfurling the paper from his chest with a gentle grip. He takes another look at it, feeling something warm bloom in his chest. His fingers shake and tremble as he holds the paper in-between his fingers. Just, admiring it again. The orange and blue of Freddy and Bonnie.

"You did?" Tony asks, softer than silk. It's barely above a whisper.

Greg nods in front of him, smile still on his face. It dissolves into a small chuckle. "Dont act so suprised."

Tony shakes his head, whipping his head up. "I'm not!" He says, but his eyes find the drawing again quickly after. It's like hes unable to look away. The drawing... it feels different now, knowing it was made for him. "Its-- its just... really cool, Greg. I love it. I really do."

Gregory goes silent again, this time for longer than a second or two. Tony glances up, and barely catches a blank stare from Greg for a split second, like he'd been thinking about something. It's gone in an instant, and Gregory's smiling at him again, looking at him with yellow-gold eyes that seem to be shining in the light from his window.

"I'm..." He trails off. "I'm glad."

"I'll treasure it." Tony promises, holding the page closer to his face. Theres even highlights in their eyes as they look at eachother in the drawing. "I promise. I wont let anything happen to it, either."

This time, Tony looks up just in time to see Gregory smile softly, and say "I know."

-

Despite Bonnie being Tony's favorite, he's never actually gotten to meet him face to face.

He would be lying if he said he had liked him before his disappearance. It sounds bad, but... Tony hadnt ever cared much for the animatronic characters. It was Bonnie's sudden vanishing that caused Tony to gain interest in Fazbears brand and characters and history and why they would retire him if they meant to. And so abruptly at that.

But... after reading up and seeing all of the history and different iterations of the characters and their merch and art and brand and evolution... he maybe got a little interested.

It goes deeper than a childish interest in the animal characters, though. He... he doesn't know how to explain it. He just feels connected to Bonnie, somehow. It's not like Freddy and Gregory. They... they have something else. But it... it feels like Tony sees more in him than the other glamrock characters. To an extent, Freddy as well. But Freddy has what he has with Gregory, and Tony doesnt feel that connection with him like he does Bonnie.

Which is why he'd been excited when Bonnie had returned in the re-opening. The bowling alley has been flipped and remodeled and the art replaced and updated since hes come back, and the place is pretty packed usually, now. Bonnie performs on his stage sometimes, and will come out and mingle with guests rarely, but Tony's never gotten a chance to talk to him.

Of course, he should have known Gregory wouldnt let it stay that way for long. Not with how he still travels across the Plex behind closed doors sometimes to see the Glamrocks often.

Which is how Greg had gotten Tony into Bonnie's greenroom in-between his schedule later in the day, when not a lot of people are at Bonnie Bowl.

Of course, Greg had always known, but... his sudden action was definitely influenced by how Tony's been talking about it, recently. How he wants to be able to talk to Bonnie alone one on one. How he's always wanted to.

Its just... Tony's been looking at the drawing Greg made him a lot lately. And it keeps reminding him over and over of how it feels like theres... more to Freddy and Bonnie. Theyve been paired together since the very beginning. It feels like theres something else intangible with them that there isnt with the other characters.

They have history. Theyve always gone together, like yin and yang. Fire and ice. Red and blue.

He's... he's just always felt a connection with Bonnie.

It doesnt feel like meeting a celebrity, when Gregory ushers him with a smile into Bonnie's greenroom and shuts the curtain behind him. He doesnt feel starstruck, or like he wants an autograph. He just wants to talk to Bonnie.

Bonnie's sitting at his mirror when Tony inches in, feeling strangely nervous and anxious and fiddling with the Bonnie keychain on his backpack. Bonnies ear twitches, the one with the earring, and then hes swiveling his chair to face him.

"Ah! You must be Tony, then." Bonnie says with a smile. Tony just stays quiet when Bonnie gets up and heads over to him, his mind running wild with what exactly it is he wants to say. "Yeah, Fred and Greg told me about ya. Said you wanted to meet me. That I'm your favorite?"

Tony nods, meeting Bonnie's eyes. "Yeah, that's right."

"Well then, its nice to meet you, Tony." Bonnie says happily, holding out a hand for Tony to shake. Tony releases the keychain and takes it without another word, shaking it politely.

It's only then that Bonnie quirks a brow at him, his ears drooping a bit. Theres a small stretch of silence where nobody says anything, and Tony feels self conscious, the nerves rising up even more.

Bonnie's kneeling down to be eye level. His ears aren't pointed straight up anymore, they're more relaxed. Bonnie looks at him, looking... concerned? Curious? And he sets a hand on his shoulder.

"Alright, now." Bonnie finally says, and Tony glances back at the curtain, than at Bonnie. Bonnie fixes him with a look that's inviting and warm. "What's on your mind, Striker? I may have just met you, but Greg has told me all about ya. He told me you had questions for me and would be bombarding me with them."

Tony's shoulders droop a little more, and he feels the nerves ebb away ever so slightly when Bonnie is nothing but warm and inviting. Once again, Tony doesnt feel like hes meeting a big star. He feels like hes having a conversation with... someone he looks up to. Someone he came to ask a question.

"But you arent." Bonnie points out, not unkindly. When Tony frowns, Bonnie smiles kindly.

"You dont have to be nervous, Striker." Bonnie tells him, his voice quiet and encouraging. "Theres plenty of kids that come to us to ask us things."

"Things that..." Bonnie trails off. "they just need a little friendly advice for that they may not want to tell anyone else."

He says the end pointedly, just enough emphasis to bring it to Tony's attention. It feels so childish. It really does. It makes Tony bristle to think about, that hes a kid who needs advice, and that Bonnie already knows that. That Bonnie is using tactics he uses on young children on him. But... that's what he came for, didnt he?

It sticks out to him, though. And Tony's aware that Bonnie's tactic worked. 'Things they may not want to tell anyone else.' aka, things that Tony had wondered about in bed and at school and at the Faz-Cade when he'd think about the cabinet art or Gregorys drawing. When... when he'd felt like there was something else.

To Freddy and Bonnie. To what appears on the outside. To what there may be on the inside. To the colors orange and blue.

He opens his mouth, not quite speaking yet, and Bonnie's waiting patiently. Hes looking at him encouragingly, and Tony sighs, letting the words spill out. The big question that he's mulled over for months.

Tony takes one last glance around him, not exactly knowing why but feeling like he needs to. It feels personal, or taboo somehow. Like this needs to be kept under wraps and only for his and Bonnie's ears to hear. He grabs at his keychain again, fidgeting with it.

"Bonnie..." He manages eventually, feelings and thoughts that feel disconnected racing through his mind. The keychain gives his hands something to do, but it doesnt help much with his nerves. "Are you and Freddy... uh..."

He stammers over his words, feeling nerves fry his stomach. This is hard to say, for some reason. It feels scary. Bonnie waits, though. Still ever patient, but his head does tilt in curiosity, a quirk to his brow.

Tony opens his mouth, taking a second to continue. "Well... I just..." He trails off, and Bonnie is still looking at him. Theres a moment where Tony says nothing, and Bonnie just meets his eyes and nods, smiling.

Its okay it feels like he's saying. Tony breathes out again, and pushes past the wall he'd been hitting. "Are you two together?"

Bonnie jerks a bit, barely noticeable, but Tony had been searching for any kind of reaction, small or not. Tony watches how Bonnie's face twists in suprise for a moment, and Tony's eyes widen, his shoulders hitching up.

"I just--" He stammers, and averts his eyes when Bonnie keeps staring at him. "I notice sometimes that your promotional art has you two... uh, closer. Than the others."

Its agonizing, watching Bonnie mull over his words. His eyes twitch and look down, and it's clear he's deep in thought. Tony feels his ears burn. He feels embarrassed. It all feels scary. Why? Why does it feel like he's spilling all his deepest darkest secrets?

Tony watches carefully, holding his breath as Bonnie says nothing. He's taking his time, thinking deeply, and Tony watches Bonnie's eyes flick towards the curtain. The curtain Gregory'd promised him he'd wait for him behind.

They widen, ever so slightly, and Bonnie's eyes then look towards Tony's hands, and the keychain hes flipping between his fingers.

Bonnie stares for just a moment longer, and then he clears his throat a bit, and Tony releases the tightness in his chest when Bonnie finally responds.

"Well, Striker..." Bonnie says, voice hushed and quiet, like he's telling a secret. "Just between you and me, Freddy and I do have something going on that... may not particularly be apart of the brand characterization of us."

Tony's eyes widen. Something shoots through his chest, some sort of burning blooming feeling, and he just stares at Bonnie speechless.

There had been something going on between the lines. There had been. Just like he'd thought. Did... Does that mean that the closeness, the undertones that Tony had felt just had to be between them had been there all along? That he really was right.

But... Bonnie had said that last part with the same emphasis he'd used before, and it only just now clicks.

Tony feels something he cant place. It feels crushing, scary, like... somethings caught up to him. Like he was somehow wrong all along. Wrong about Freddy and Bonnie? Wrong about something he never ever knew why he latched onto in the first place?

"So..." He begins uncertainly, shoulders feeling heavy. He realizes he hasnt blinked this whole time, and releases the tight breath he'd been holding. His eyes flick up to Bonnie's. "The promotional art isn't any different?"

Bonnie's ears droop, and he shakes his head. Tony just looks away.

"No, buddy." Bonnie replies. He shakes him a bit, just enough to get his attention, and Tony makes himself look back at Bonnie.

He looks knowing, somehow. It makes Tony bristle. He looks like he just figured it out. But what is there to figure out? Why is Bonnie looking at him with sympathy?

Bonnie doesnt say something like Tony had been expecting him to, though. He just stands to his full height, herding Tony by his shoulders gently to go down the hallway and stand just at the mouth of the curtain. They dont go through, but stay tucked in the shadows. Tony frowns, confused.

"Might there be a reason why you saw a difference with us in the first place?" Bonnie asks, a whisper. He nudges him, and Tony, despite the confusion and how his question begins to weigh on him, joins him in peering through the gap in the curtain.

Tony's not really sure why Bonnie's brought him over here; it's just Gregory and Freddy on the other side, and Tony cant help but feel a little bit of impatient-ness mix with the confusion inside of him, because Bonnie obviously knows something that Tony doesnt and its killing him.

But any remarks over it he bites down, and he tries to decipher the reasoning himself. There obviously is one, after all.

Tony just watches, looking for whatever Bonnie may be getting at. Gregory's faced half away from the curtain, talking to Freddy about something, and he doesnt notice Tony's observing him. Tony watches Gregory's face; theres a smile that goes as wide as to crinkle the corner of his eyes, and it dissolves into laughter soon after. He looks amused, like the funniest joke in the world was just told, and Freddy laughs heartily next to him.

Theres that weird feeling in his chest that been eating away at him again. The one he always gets around Greg and if he gets to looking at the drawing he gave him. The one of Freddy and Bonnie. Or if he remembers the cabinet art.

Tony just watches. He watches and is aware that Gregory barely ever smiles like that and that it makes his eyes sparkle, and it's like the gold in them shimmers even more. How it curves around his cheeks and even after it dissipates a bit, the contentment is still there. He watches him speak and how it flashes his teeth and his home-cut, shaggy hair kinda falls over his face like a curtain and he has to brush it out of the way with a hand. Theres the scar on his face that travels up his jaw and the sharpness to his eyes and the curve of his nose and--

Oh.

Oh.

He's long let go of the Bonnie keychain by now, but now, it weighs heavy on him. Suddenly he's all too aware of its presence, and Gregory's Freddy backpack that Tony can see on his back through the gap of the curtain.

Flashes of the cabinet art at the Faz-Cade and Gregory's drawing run laps through his mind. It makes sense, now. His mind is so jumbled he cant get a thought through, but he still knows what they're all saying. He feels it.

Freddy and Bonnie, the two always paired together that Tony saw a certain closeness between. Bonnie, who had always been Tony's favorite. Freddy, who is Greg's favorite. Who he draws all the time and has bonded with and who he's connected with.

Tony's always felt connected to Bonnie.

"Oh." Tony says outwardly, barely louder than a whisper. His voice cracks in the middle.

Bonnie tries to squeeze his shoulder, to open his mouth and say something, but Tony gently shoves him off, walking out of his hold and stumbling closer the curtain.

"Im--" He stammers, not knowing what to think. "I'm sorry, Bonnie. I-- thank you for this, but--" He sighs out, and it feels a little wet. He ignores Bonnie's worried expression and pushes open the curtain with one arm. "Ive-- I've got to go."

Bonnie doesn't try to stop him. He doesnt yell for him, ask him to wait, nothing. Tony appreciates it. Maybe that knowing look hed given him means he understands.

"Hey." Greg greets him on the outside, just like he said he would. Hes smiling, Freddy backpack still on his shoulders, but it drops a bit when he sees his face.

"Tony?" He asks, softer and less enthusiastic. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Tony cuts him off, ignoring the guilt curling in his stomach when he walks past both Greg and Freddy. He needs-- he can't think right now. He doesnt know what to do. "Im-- I'm okay. I uh, just think im gonna go home."

Theres no response for a second until Greg goes "Oh." Its a little flat, and one hundred percent sounds disappointed and worried all in one. The guilt gets worse. "Are you--"

"I'm okay." Tony insists, and the tightness in his chest and rapidness of his thoughts dont go away. Greg doesnt get to ask again, because Tony's almost running away, now.

He can feel Greg and Freddys eyes on his back as he leaves Bonnie Bowl, not knowing how to feel.

-

Tony hasnt told Gregory.

How is he supposed to? He-- he hasnt even processed it himself. He doesnt know what to think or how to feel. He doesnt like not being able to think.

Every time he tries, it all gets jumbled and his brain twists in knots. He doesnt need to think to know. To know what it all meant and that he'd always felt this way. Since he'd gotten to know the real Greg.

That those moments where he and Gregory would be close where he'd have those weird feelings were because he liked him. He still does. He likes him. A lot.

He likes him and he'd-- Tony had always seen more in Bonnie and Freddy because he saw more in him and Gregory. Its always been that way. He's always felt closer to Greg. He's... he's the Freddy to his Bonnie.

The thought makes Tony's brain freeze up again. He blinks, feeling his arms burn from being sprawled out on the bed and holding them up for so long. He groans, long and drawn out, feeling lost.

His stomach does somersaults and his face burns when he looks at the drawing again. He's stared at it a lot already. Not only today, but since he got it. Its felt... special, to him. Now he knows why. That this drawing Greg gifted him always felt like it held something deeper. Something that... only Tony saw. That no one else would.

He grips the paper with his fingers, staring longingly at the art. It feels like hes getting a headache, lying flat on his back and straining his arms just to hold the drawing up in the air. He stares at the pencil lines and the colors and how Freddy and Bonnie's shoulders are pressed together and their hands are still awkwardly limp from where they fall by their waists.

Tony frowns, always feeling off about that part. It never fit in correctly. It never felt intentional. Not like everything about Gregory's art always has. It had always left Tony wondering. Like how he had with the feeling in his stomach and Freddy and Bonnie's official art.

He sighs, his arms drooping slightly from the strain. Today was a school day, and Tony hadn't gone with Greg to his house like he usually does. He's barely talked to him since his exchange with Bonnie. He doesn't want to avoid, him, he just... doesnt know what to say.

He doesnt know if he should tell him. Tony has always felt that he and Greg felt different, but he has no idea if Gregory does. Tony had been wrong about it being intentional in the art at the Plex. He'd created it himself because he saw himself in it. He doesnt want to-- to mess things up with Greg. He doesnt want Gregory to have never felt the same.

His brows furrow and he frowns as he readies himself to leave it for today, like he usually does. He takes a last long look at the drawing, eyeing Freddy and Bonnie's hands again, and how they look forced and awkward, and starts to drop his arms.

It's the afternoon, and the sun is setting and just at the right position to shine through his blinds and onto his bed. The blinds are almost fully shut, but the sun peeks through the cracks, shining on the back of the paper and highlighting the details of the drawing.

Tony wouldnt have paid it any mind if it hadn't revealed something hes never seen, never, about the drawing he's spent so long looking at.

He does a double take. Then a triple. Then some more for good measure. He blinks, and scrambles up on his arms to sit upright so he can see it better.

His eyes widen, and his stomach feels floaty. The same feeling from the cabinet art and when he and Greg will sit close to eachother at lunch and let their shoulders and knees touch or, stand closer to eachother than they should blooms in his stomach.

The sun, shining bright and golden through his window, illuminates the blank paper space adjacent to Freddy and Bonnie's hands in Gregory's drawing. They're bending awkwardly, out of the way, and it gives him room to see the faded lines besides Freddy and Bonnie's hands.

It starts from the wrist and the lines show up even through the marker Greg had used to color their hands with. It fits, Tony thinks, with the pose. With the original pose. This way, it doesnt feel forced or awkward. It looks like how it had intended to be from the start.

Because with the sun shining behind it and showing through the color and pen that had carefully covered it up, Tony sees faded pencil lines that before, had connected Freddy and Bonnie's hands.

His face becomes warm, and he just looks, feeling something blooms in his chest. Hope? Disbelief? Excitement? His brain short circuits and he's only feeling right now. He feels how sparks are flying in his stomach and it feels a little less impossible than before.

I... uh... I drew it for you in the first place.

This is how it had always been intended. For Freddy and Bonnie to be holding hands. Theres nothing else it could have been. It had always been unintentional in the Plex art. Always just created from Tony's own relation. But this... Greg wanted this. He wanted to draw Freddy and Bonnie holding hands and for that closeness to be more than an undertone. More than intangible.

Tony feels breathless. His arms and hands shake, and the paper in front of him shakes along with it. He doesnt care, though. The sun is still illuminating what Greg had intended in his drawing all along, the drawing he made for him, and Tony feels less unsure than before. He feels like maybe he isnt alone in feeling this way at all.

-

The next day, after a long night and day at school, Tony goes with Greg to his house.

The drawing sits heavy in his backpack. unfolded unfolded because he'd never want to crease it and he doesnt want the pencil lines to suddenly disappear, either. He handles it like porcelain glass, like itll slip through his fingers if he let's it go too much.

Even Ellis had noticed him acting weird, and Tony noticed Greg looking at him concerned from the corner of his eye. He knows why. He's been distant lately. But... at school today, Tony hadn't felt afraid of Greg. Of messing things up with him. He'd felt the warmth spread through his face and his stomach and fireworks go off and his face stretch in a grin when he'd seen him the first time that day. And he'd felt it times ten all over again when Greg had smiled back.

He wont lose him. Tony knows this. He'd spend all night and all day mulling it over. Greg feels the same. He'd felt the closeness like I had. He'd.. he erased it. He was scared, like I am now.

It feels different, walking into Greg's room. He hasnt been there in a couple days, but it feels almost similar to when he'd walked into Bonnie's greenroom. He knows now that it had been because he knew, deep down. It felt like he was about to confess something then. He pretty much had, saying that Bonnie and Freddy were together out loud.

It's not as far down, anymore. It's not buried underneath characterization branding and pencil lines and marker strokes and only revealed if the light hits it right. It wont stay under wraps. Not after today.

Tony becomes hyper aware of the bag on his back immediately after the door closes on them. Greg walks into his room first, slinging his bag off of his back and kicking his shoes off and talking about watching something, together, or writing like they always do, but Tony isnt listening. He's just balling up the hem of his green corduroy jacket in his hands and staring at the carpet and thinking about the colors orange and blue.

"Tony?" Greg asks him. Tony startles, looking up at Greg. Hes sitting on the edge of his bed, with concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?"

Tony opens his mouth, but theres no words on his tongue. He stands there silently for a moment, and he thinks about the drawing again. He knows it's time. The sun is peeking through Greg's blinds. His backpack and the knowledge that the drawing is inside and his Bonnie keychain weigh on him.

His eyes flick for a split second to Greg's backpack and his sneakers, and then he clears his throat, his mouth feeling dry. "Greg, can I show you something?"

Gregory tilts his head, looking a little worried. He jerks, patting the bed beside him. "Uh, yeah, of course."

Tony swings his own backpack off of his shoulders as he makes his way next to Gregory, but its gentler. Careful about the easily crinkleable paper inside. Pencil lines that have already been attempted to be erased.

It only fully sets in when he sits down next to Gregory on the bed, and he chose to sit close enough that their arms are flush against eachother and Tony's face gets warm. He doesnt fight it. He just unzips his backpack and carefully reaches in, grabbing ahold of the corner with light fingers.

He pulls it out, and Gregory looks suprised next to him, if not also a little but confused. Tony's face is still warm, and his fingers shake and tremble, and he turns his neck to face Gregory.

They're really close like this, and Tony's eyes widen and he has to fight to not look away. His heart hammers a hundred miles an hour in his chest, but he keeps his gaze on Greg's eyes. Gold meets blue, and they stay staring at eachother. Tony hopes deeply that Gregory gets the hint. That he understands.

Nothing, yet. Not a peep. Just a silent moment. Theres closeness now, Tony thinks. Closeness that feels carefully not one sided. That feels mutual. So after another moment, he forces himself to look away, pointing the paper at the wall and smoothing out the corners. Gregory follows his movements, still having not made a sound.

Tony doesnt, either. He just holds the paper up to the window on Greg's wall, or rather the beams of golden light shining through it, and just like how it did in Tony's room, it illuminates the pencil lines around the white of the paper.

Lines that had been hidden. That are being revealed now, brought to the surface because Gregory didnt have to be afraid. Becuase its mutual. It feels less like it was erased, now, and more like it was drawn in invisible ink. Blank to the naked eye, but the two of them know. Greg knows, he has to. He hid it himself. And Tony... well, Tony wasnt crazy for feeling that there was something between the lines all this time, has he? Not when there literally have been.

Tony looks at it for a moment, feeling like it's all being brought up to the surface. He feels connected to Gregory, right now. Like this isnt some big reveal. That its just an acknowledging of feelings. I know. Tony's trying to say. I always have, and now I know that you did, too.

He moves his gaze to Greg, who's staring wide eyed but almost blank faced at the paper. His lips are parted slightly, but other than that, he just looks... shocked. Suprised.

Scared

Tony's scared, too. But not in the way Greg is. Tony's nervous, and afraid, and excited, but Greg doesnt know if Tony knows. If he thinks the closeness is mutual.

He does.

He takes the leap, fire in his chest and on his face and sparks flying from where Greg's shoulder is pressed against his. "Maybe..." He begins, slow and quiet. He looks at Greg, meeting his eyes, and he points a finger at the lines that originally portrayed hands laced together. "...Bonnie and Freddy would like to hold hands. You know, like... in the promotional art".

Theres a fleeting moment of silence where Tony's words just hang in the air. Like in the promotional art, because Tony knows Gregory noticed, too. He knows he felt the same connection Tony had. He knows that he knows. He sets the paper down in his lap, no longer feeling like its needed. His hand lies on his leg, carefully positioned in-between them, like Greg's is.

Then, Greg stops looking so scared, and he meets Tony's eyes. The sun from his window makes them shine like gold, and Tony keeps ahold of his gaze. He hopes desperately that those few words were enough, that a moment like this that cant be shattered by big declarations gets across.

But then, Greg breaks from his eyes first, looking downwards, and Tony follows his gaze.

"Like in the promotional art." Gregory agrees. Tony watches as Gregorys hand twitches, and no matter how slow or agonizing, it moves to lace together with Tonys.

Tony doesnt dare smile, or laugh, or make a peep. He doesnt dare shatter the moment. His chest blooms and explodes with sparks and fireworks, and he knows. He knows that its requited. That Gregory knows, as well. That orange and blue go good together and that he was never wrong about there being something else there.

His head whips up from their hands to look at Greg's face again, and Gregory is looking at him already. Theres red on his face, too, like Tony knows there is on his own. Tony dares to use his thumb to brush against Greg's hand, and Gregory's eyes dart downwards for just a moment, before meeting his again.

Then, without a word, Greg smiles slowly. It's big and it stretches across his cheeks and crinkles his eyes at the corners. And Tony let's a grin appear on his own face.

The drawing sits in his lap, and a ray of sunshine continues to showcase the faded indents of pencil drawing laced together hands. Tony squeezes once, then twice, and shifts his hold to be tighter and more secure. Greg does the same.

ao3 link

[krokusplays]

Tianyu - Introduction

HSR OC - ✰✰✰✰✰

Name: Tianyu

Lore Path: Abundance

Combat Path: Destruction

Combat Type: Ice

Species: Xianzhou Native

Faction: Borisin

A young woman taken in by the Sableclaw pack of the Borisins after she slew their former pack leader during an attack on the Xianzhou Luofu when she was but a little girl. Exposed to the harsh environment of the Borisins and their violent way of living she grew up worshiping the Abundance, perceiving herself as one of the Pack and resenting the Path her homeworld has chosen.

[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[august-anon]

how does one.

write

[harrytheehottie]

LOOKING BACK (a snapshot of moments in harry’s pov)

Harry woke up from a nightmare. Or maybe it wasn’t a nightmare, just a really vivid dream. Whatever it was. He was now up in the middle of the night. The private plane was still above the Atlantic Ocean. Harry tapped on the screen on the seat in front of him. The map of the plane's journey, only three and a half hours left until he’s back home. He couldn’t wait.

The last few months, honestly years of his life have felt out of his control. He spent a year working on an album that he was only able to promote for three months before the entire world shut down and he was unable to leave Los Angeles for months although it felt like years after day 14 of living in the same house as his friends. He loved them but he was going crazy. So, he did what he always does in moments of crazy, he called up his friends Tom and Tyler, booked the studio in Malibu for a month and got all his emotions out for his next album.

And then. His life went a little like this.

Album. Movie. Relationship. Grammy. Another Movie. Tour. Album. More Tours. More Tours. Another Tour. Breakup. More Tours. Final Round? Yes. Done.

And now, he was three and a half hours from the one place he wanted to be most.

With you.

Harry has always thought the ‘you’ll find love where you least expect it’ was a cliche. He was always set up somehow or just happened to be in an environment where a relationship may naturally occur for most. He was single for the first time in a long time and didn’t want anything serious. His focus was finishing up the tour - the only date in his mind was July 22, 2023. The last time he would be on stage for at least a full year.

And then, one late night when he was in bed somewhere in Asia he found himself tapping through Instagram stories. He was on a strict schedule and wasn’t one to party during tour - unless it was a very special occasion. And he was letting himself have a few more of those doing his days off. But tonight, he was in bed with some music documentary in the background as he tapped through Instagram.

A picture of his old classmates' new child. A selfie. A picture of the sunset on the beach. A repost about the ‘Sunday Scaries’. And then a video of one of his friends from back home in London at a party of some sort. Something was telling him to linger on these next few slides. He recognized some faces. London was a fairly small city and when you’ve lived there for a little over a decade - it gets smaller and smaller. He hasn’t seen you around. He replayed the same 15 second video over and over again. He was mesmerized by the way your bright smile and shy laugh cut through the video even though you weren’t the center of attention. Your presence is what got him to go back to the story over and over again.

He thought about messaging the mutual friend. His thumb hovering over the ‘send a message’ button at the bottom of the screen. Would it be too full on? Too desperate? What would you think? It’s the tricky part about being himself. He doesn’t want to come off too full on and confident. Maybe he thinks he should try to sleep on it. But something keeps making him go back to that story, over and over and over again. So, he does the second best thing. He sends a text to the friend who posted the story - asking them to hangout when he’s back home and introduce you to him.

&&

When Harry first met you, he swore it felt straight out of a movie. He was a romantic. He always has been that way. His therapist thinks it comes from growing up solely around women and watching his parents separate. You long for the things you didn’t have or something like that. But he knows that this, whatever he is feeling is different. His friend did him a favor and instead of just inviting solely you to hangout, he had a game night at his house. Harry was nervous the entire day, unable to figure out what to wear, how to style his hair, if he should arrive on time or a little late. He was working himself up so much he almost had to call his older sister, Gemma to help him get ready but decided not to. He didn’t want to involve anyone just yet. So, he put on an outfit he’s worn dozens of times before. A blue button down and some black trousers, ran his hands through his hair a few times and headed out the door.

The minute he made it to his friend's apartment. He swore he heard your voice. The laugh that was replaying from that same fifteen second clip. He felt his desire to be near you grow stronger throughout the night. It was almost embarrassing. The way he was so desperate for your attention. Every smile and laugh you shared felt like another success under his belt. He really liked you and needed you to know that. So, when you finally sat next to him during a game of charades, Harry decided to do something. You were both engaged in the game happening right in front of you. Everyone was. Which gave Harry an opportune time to lay back on the couch and move his right hand from his own leg to yours. He had his hand on your thigh right above the knee. He could almost feel his body tensing up and getting red as seconds went by without a reaction from you.

He felt like he was holding his breath in. Until, you also began to slowly lean back on the couch. Smiling at Harry the same way he knew he was looking at you. A shy laugh between the two of you and you stayed like that through the majority of the night. The game night was useless because he got what he initially came for.

And damn did he feel very lucky.

&&

Your first date started off not well. Harry planned to take you to one of his favorite restaurants which ended up being closed for maintenance. He was scrambling for another location and settled on a picnic in the park. You talked for hours about everything. Where you’ve from, what brought you to London, your favorite things to do. And Harry was intently listening to every detail asking questions he never did before. He really wanted this to work out. The feeling of that pull towards you growing the more you spoke.

By date number four, he was already thinking of asking you to be his girlfriend. You were walking back to the car after a nice meal at your favorite hole in the way Chinese restaurant. To some it would be too soon, honestly, to himself a few months ago it would feel too soon. But right now, on this walk back to the car, after sharing endless amounts of dumplings and feeling like your conversation was effortless, he knew he wanted to bottle this feeling up and experience it every single day for as long as you’d allow him.

So, he did something that the two of you laugh about now.

You were a couple feet from the car when Harry stopped dead in his tracks. And as soon as you realized he wasn’t still walking beside you and you turned around to see what he was up to. He was about to kneel down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” You asked immediately, laughing at the situation he put you in. He didn't know it at the time but there was a tiny part of you that thought this was something he always did.

“I know this is crazy.” Harry began to speak, “and we’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months…”

“Are you going to propose to me because I’ve not run away after date number two?” Harry loved how much shit you gave him. “But seriously you need to stand up before people think you’re being serious.”

“Okay okay,” he slowly got up, “I was going to say that… you can tell me if it’s too soon or too early but if I could’ve asked you this back when we first met I would’ve…”

You had a puzzled look on your face. He knows the face now, you pull it when you’re unsure, hesitant.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”