hi!! why stress when you can be in a fictional world??
so i kept seeing my ex this week 🫣 after not seeing them for a year 🥴 and im over her but it’s like first gay love you know? that shit fucks you up!!!
i kept thinking about abby and how i wish i could text her 😭😭 like babe come pick me up PLEASE
so yeah maybe something around that?? i think we all need some abby comfort
You usually weren’t known for making mistakes.
Seriously, as overconfident and precise as it sounds, you were always the smart one. Level-headed in a way that pissed your friends off when all they wanted to do was go a little feral. Experiment. Let whatever happens, happen.
Yeah, you didn’t buy into that whole “let the universe make your choices for you” moonshine. Didn’t appeal to you in the slightest.
So why, oh, why are you spending your Friday night standing outside of a crumbling sports bar, rubbing at those tears that threaten to fall from your eyes onto the ground below you?
You guess the universe pushes and pushes until it finally has its way with you in the end.
Your fingers had dialed practically everyone of your four roommates in the past 10 minutes that you’ve been standing out in the balmy summer air, but, of fucking course, each call went straight to voice mail every single time.
Figures! The one time you decide to do something out of your comfort zone and everything starts spinning off its axis immediately.
The idea of calling an Uber flits across the back of your mind, but you really don’t want to spend anymore money tonight, having already handed your card over to the bartender enough times that you were thoroughly buzzed and feeling that if you checked your bank account right now, all of those vodka sodas would come racing back up your throat. Hard pass.
It isn’t until you scroll through your contacts for the fifth consecutive time and land right back at the top, however, that you stop to consider what may be the most obvious answer of the night: Abby Anderson. Fuckin’ duh.
Abby “Permanent Designated Driver” Anderson. The girl who has decidedly quit drinking altogether after deciding that she really wants to take her whole softball career seriously. Abby Anderson who is always, always wide awake into the deep recesses of the night, cramming for her 8am or putting in a few last minute hours at the gym.
Abby Anderson, sweet, sweet, Abby, somehow bestowed with the patience of a saint and the subtlety of a freight train, who will definitely pick you up, but won’t hesitate to ask what you’re doing at this ratty old place at 2:30 in the morning.
It’s probably a lot better than practically dragging your way home, so, why not?
You dial the number and she picks up within 3 rings, a little out of breath. You guess she took on the weight room, tonight.
“Yeah?”
Your body stiffens. Fuck! How well do you actually know Abby? You’ve barhopped with her and some other friends in the past, but most of those nights were spent casually sipping at a bottle of soda while you listen to everyone else converse and socialize. When was the last time you actually spoke to her?
“Is this one of those county cop calls that keeps going around campus, cause I’m not signing your fuckin’ petition—“
“No, no!” You blurt out, a little surprised at yourself. “It’s just— I mean, it’s just…me?”
Abby says your name inquisitively through the phone, sounding as startled as you are. “Hey…is everything alright?”
You scan your surroundings as if they’ll give you the answer that you’re looking for, and shrug like she can see you. Could be worse, you guess?
“Are you busyyy tonight?” You slur a little, and she seems concerned at the sound.
“No, I’m, uh, free? Are you in—“
“Could you, maybeee, give me a ride home?”
You think you can hear a ‘pause sound’ moving through her head, or maybe you’re just a bit more drunk than you thought.
“Yeah! Yeah, totally, just…are you off-campus, or—?”
“Mmhmm! I’llsendyouthelocation, byeee!”
You click the end call button and stare st the black screen. Since when did you get so frazzled over talking to her? She sounds the same as she usually does, right? Choosing not to think about it too much, the location is sent her way and, judging by the distance, she should be there in 20 minutes.
She’s there in 15. You hear her before you can actually make out the vehicle in the distance. It’s late. The roads are empty. You didn’t give her much context, so, you don’t exactly blame her for hurrying.
But her car pulls up in front of you like a heavy metal chariot, and you get a little anxious about stepping into the passenger’s seat in your sheer black dress and platform heels.
Neither of you say anything for the first minute and you’re rather grateful. Your insides feel like poorly melted snow, and you’re not sure if it’s the way that Abby’s gripping the steering wheel or the fact that she keeps glancing over at you through the side window. You see your legs shift against the leather seats, but your mind is elsewhere.
“Did you, uh, get to the bar alone?” She begins, tapping her thick fingers against the wheel, sounding like she’s trying to broach something, but you don’t know what it is yet.
You squint down at your phone screen to check the time again. Right. The evening started way earlier than you remembered.
“Nope. Came here on a blind date.”
Abby tries not to react like that shocks her, but she doesn’t quite make the mark.
“You went—! Oh! Right! ‘course! Makes sense…”
Silence, again. The kind that’s unbearable in situations like these. You roll down the window for some fresh air, but it makes the both of you sweat even more.
“Did it…go well?”
You purse your lips together and shake your head. “Nope. She was kind of a dick.”
Abby lets out a breathy chuckle at your answer and you decide to keep going.
“She wasn’t really that into me. Kept chatting up the waitress and interrupting me whenever I spoke. Said she had to leave early to pick up her little brother from his friend’s house, but she said she was an only child when I asked earlier, so…”
“Damn…that’s—that’s rough…”
“Yeah…”
What is with the both of you and pained silences? Seems to be something in the air tonight.
Abby clears her throat while you’re silently moping at the memories, and when you get to a red light, she turns to take you in.
“If it makes you feel any better, the last date I went on snuck out of the back door before dessert.”
You gasp, dramatically, and she rolls her eyes in the same manner.
“No fuckin’ way! You’re tellin’ meee that someone would actually pass up a chance to go on a date with you?” The utter disbelief that you stare up at her with makes her cheeks go pink, and she can’t help but feel a little satisfied with herself. She smiles, a little bitterly.
“Not as much of a catch as you think I am, babe.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Oh, I hardly believe that, Ms. Anderson.”
If there’s one thing you can thank the alcohol for, besides getting you in Abby’s car in the first place, it’s the extra push it gives you to go for the things you actually want.
“You know, Abigail, if you’re into it, we could, maybe, do a repeat performance of our shitty dates with each other, and make them…not shitty? How’s that sound?”
You feel the smile before you see it on her face. It’s like she can bring the warmth of the sun into any space she occupies.
“Well…” she starts “As long as you promise to at least tell me before you sneak out the back, then, we got ourselves a deal.”
You’re giddy with all that light she brings. And, you think, briefly, that sure, maybe you don’t usually make these kinds of mistakes, but at least this one scored you a date with THE Abby Anderson.
So, maybe, possibly, the universe could very well be onto something.
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Bonnie, the former Agent Jackalope!
The last of the original Glamrocks, with a superficially mellow personality. He’s calm and calculating during missions, and through his polite but approachable attitude fostered a tendency of others underestimating him.
The only people who know that there’s more to him are his friends - Freddy, Chica, and Foxy. Foxy loves annoying him because it’s the easiest way to get him to snap, and then the petty and snarky Bonnie comes out. Gossips like a house-wife, and pulls no punches. None of those punches are ever serious, he’s petty, not a full on asshole, and Foxy (the most common target due to his habits) laughs at them more than anyone. It’s in good humor, and Bonnie very much enjoys being the entertaining complainer.
He’s still also friendly, it just happens to be the act he has to put on during work most often too. The snark is catharsis, but most of the time he’s happy to sit back and just joke around with his friends.
When Foxy first started asking questions and directing criticism towards the higher ups, Bonnie didn’t necessarily disagree - but he also did not feel like openly antagonizing his employer. Not when he knows what kind of dirty work he does for said employer, and thus knows that they are not above underhanded techniques to silence threats. So he, like Chica, tried talking Foxy out of his approach, while Freddy was the most vocal in his defense of Fez.
And then Foxy “died”.
Bonnie did not believe it - but he questioned himself, too frozen in the realization that his friend is gone. Is he simply stuck in denial, or is there really something fishy going on? He finds no evidence in the building Foxy was last seen in, but he knows Fez cleanup works fast and well. For a long time he doesn’t do much, just running through the same routine trying to make it through every day while doubts gnaw at him.
But when Roxy comes in, much too soon after Foxy’s death, his suspicions rear their ugly heads again and he starts investigating in earnest. He’s quiet about it, quieter than Foxy. First, he talks to Roxy. Asks her about her age, when she started training, when Fez recruited her - and he does the math. It does not paint a pretty picture. He thanks her, quietly but genuinely, and when he notices how uncomfortable she is about the entire topic, he shoots her just a quick “You did nothing wrong.”
Despite being quiet, his investigation starts drawing management’s attention - and Bonnie sees the writing on the wall. His missions get riskier and more often end in fights and require cleanup. He starts moving his assets out of town. When he gets put in charge of a high stakes mission, teamed up with a newbie (as promising as he is), he’s immediately on edge. It’s not that he doesn’t get along with Monty - but there is tension between them, with Monty’s urge for quick action clashing with his own calculating attitude. Bonnie is the one to suggest a split, and Monty doesn’t disagree - they both feel like they need to cool off.
Bonnie gets ambushed, though he dispatches his assailants with minimal injury. But he realizes this is an opportunity that he won’t get again so quickly, and next time could be too late. There’s already splinters of his outer shell lying about, but he knows Fez will want more evidence of his “demise”.
His left ear, already damaged, loses its top half, thrown towards the next wall where a few blood splatters already mar the paint. His loose left finger, in the opposite direction. For good measure he rips off the dented plating of his left arm too, where he shielded himself against a heavier blow. Because he knows Monty will be at risk on his own, he sends one last signal through their communicators, before crushing his on the ground, too.
Now he has to be quick. He carries off the knocked out attackers, only leaving an ambiguous fight scene.
And then agent Jackalope officially is no more.
Bonnie keeps tabs on Abra Fez, though he now has to jump through many more hoops. He moves cities, focusing his investigation on his friends. Are they okay, or has Fez hurt them for his insubordination? He doesn’t like hearing about them grieving him, but doesn’t dare reveal himself to them either, remembering Freddy’s vehement protest at the suggestion that Fez does not care for its agents.
And then Monty joins the Glamrocks, and despite Bonnie not disliking the guy, he hates it. Hates that he was replaced so quickly, hates that his friends will move on without him, hates that he can’t do anything about it until he has solid proof.
So he stops checking up on the Glamrocks, and digs deeper. Who’s behind the code name “Hare”, leading Abra Fez from the shadows? What really happened to the late head of Fez, the one who recruited Freddy and built the agency from the ground up? When did animatronics become tools, and when did those tools become expendable?
The answers aren’t pretty.
And despite everything, he still doesn’t know what happened to Foxy.
When his savings start running out, Bonnie takes a job at a local bowling alley, and has to relearn how to be social. He’s fumbling a bit more in the casual environment, but finds that the one or other snarky comment isn’t actually considered a faux pas, and then he starts enjoying it. It’s not the same, it’s not his friends who are all living without him, but it’s something, and beggars can’t be choosers.
He’s boisterous and happy for everyone to see, but he never talks about his past and refuses to actually give out any information about himself. His coworkers appreciate him for his humor and ability to handle even the roughest customers while staying calm himself. When they ask where he learned that, he only ever declares he’s had practice, and nothing else. And then he goes home as soon as his shift is over, with no one knowing his address or even phone number, and never joins in on any after-work hangouts or the like.
When Bonnie’s off work, and not charging, he continues investigating Fez. He deals with many shady individuals, still getting into the occasional fight when someone has second thoughts about sharing information with him, though he has managed to stay low enough to not draw Fez’ attention again. He makes a name for himself as a private investigator, and while not entirely accurate, it’s not wrong enough for him to tell anyone otherwise. Those gigs are much rarer, but he can be convinced to investigate other people’s matters, too.
For a few years, that’s his life, and he figures it’s the best he’ll get.
Though, then… Then Fez makes moves to settle in another city, and Bonnie hears about it. He hears about them being beaten back, and he starts wondering if perhaps he’s gone about things the wrong way, not seeking out allies.
He prepares for another move. When he quits his job many are devastated, and he acts like it’s a regretful development. But for the first time in all those years, he’s buzzing with anticipation and something more - maybe hope.
Hope of finally making headway against Fez, hope to finally find a new safety net, hope to perhaps even see his old friends again, and maybe his continued existence together with everything he has already collected on Fez will be enough to convince them to quiet, or at the very least believe him.
But for once he’s also filled with a lot of anxiety restless energy, knowing that he’s just as likely to be found by Fez as by any agency opposing them, but it’s a risk he willingly takes. Turns out he’s done hiding, and done only playing pretend at being happy and social - he wants friends, his friends, and he wants all those things Fez originally took from him.
And, well, once he does move, and gets to investigate in town… There are some very unexpected revelations to be had <3
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