#trying to get ALL the art tags /hj

[creativriot]

Oooough fanart for the lovely @lunareclipse06 because smooching Juniper is like on the very top on my hierarchy of needs

[rainbowpufflez]

Wip (finished now posted here!)

Been listening to this song and thinking about them too much

[cosmicdenro]

hope u guys don't mind me being a little queer sometimes and talking to myself in the tags, it helps clear my head since people can filter out rant posts easily

[piningpercussionist]

(ooc)

I want you all to know that if I had the energy for it. There are so many posts stored in my drafts I long to queue... but neglected to preemptively tag, despite knowing I am Like This....

Anyway, there is a slight chance the queue might run out tomorrow unless I can get more responses in there-- I am,, tired,,

[soullumii]

masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock. 

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back. 

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same. 

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them. 

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of. 

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time. 

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength. 

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest. 

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both. 

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask. 

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.” 

“What look?” 

“The sex look.” 

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.” 

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.” 

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?" 

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly. 

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says. 

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.” 

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.” 

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.” 

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.” 

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?” 

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you. 

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs. 

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans. 

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand. 

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins. 

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper. 

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs. 

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age. 

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan. 

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh. 

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.” 

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan. 

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map. 

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs. 

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.” 

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly. 

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.” 

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.” 

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.” 

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down. 

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness. 

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you. 

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife. 

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much. 

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?” 

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do. 

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips. 

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.” 

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release. 

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

[silly-mars]

HELLO THERE!!

I'm Silly Mars! Or just Mars. I think it's finally to me to present myself!!

BASIC INFO!!

My name is Mars!

My pronouns are He/him ONLY (it's okay if you don't know my pronouns!! And you use they/them instead, but if you know please use my pronouns!!)

IM A MINOR. 16 to be exact. (Shocking i know, i even think to myself that i'm still in 2021). SO PLEASE!! don't be weird.

ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LENGUAGE!! I'm spanish (hola tontos jaja) still! I will try my best for having a decent english!! And don't worry, i can understand English perfectly, the problem for me is talking it or writting it.

I like to use tone tags!! It makes it easier to me to understand stuff!! (Sometimes i'm a dummy. /Lh /hj)

TALKING TO ME AND STUFF!!

GUYS PLEASE! i'm super friendly!!/srs I LOVE when people send me messages for art or even talking!! Please never think that you're annoying or something!! I love having notifications of my moots!! If you want, i invite you to talk to me! For whatever reason, and i hope to be good mutuals or if it's the case good friends!!

My username on discord is "silly_mars." If you need to talk to me for something important!! Just wanting to chat with me and interact (guys, i don't bite.) or even for projects n stuff!!

THINGS I LIKE!!

THE LEGO MOVIE!!

I think it's kinda obvious THE LOVE i have for this movie!! I remember being in computer class and there was a piece called "resistence" and i was like "THE PIECE OF RESISTENCE!!"...and my friend was worried for me, but that's another story.

Team fortress 2!!

I KNOW, what a shock! I like things THAT AREN'T THE LEGO MOVIE!! Well yes! So don't be surprised if i upload something that isn't LEGO movie!! Anyways i love this videogame so much, Scout my wife and Spy my human pet.

REGRETEVATOR!!

Silly little Roblox Game!! My favorite gender.

I just love videogames or media that have a lot of silly characters, so that game is for me!! Also, im literally Mark./j

WARRIOR CATS!!

I don't consume the canon stuff like i used to, but the fandom still has a place in my heart!! Because THE ART IS SO GOOD and the fan stuff is way too good!! Also i love my baby longtail. He deserved better :(

COPPERNAUTS

The fact that these two are characters from the LEGO movie, but they have a special interest is so amazing to me. THE FACT that they only have 1-2 canon interaction and they're ALL OVER MY HEAD is so amazing to me...UGH anyways, i hope gay people were real/ref

ASTRONOMY

Not really a fandom BUT I LOVE SPACE!! I can literally say 100 fun facts about space, PLEASE./hj

AAAAAND more stuff!! I have a lot of interests idk anymore guys:(

DNI N STUFF!!

Just basic DNI, yk, if you're homophobic/transphobic don't try to be my friend or even mutual, this place is safe for LGBT community AND MYSELF.

Racist stuff, ableist stuff, just- any type of hate for a group of people isn't welcome here.

if you ship something weird don't expect me to follow you back or interact with you.

If i don't like something i just scroll away, or if it is more serious, i block it and scroll away again.

LINKS!!

Well! I have a pair of links to get me know better!!

Pronoun page!!

My card!! (I don't know how to make good cards, but here is it, so you can find all my social media more easy, lol)

OKAY!1!!1! THAT'S ALL

Uhhh that's everything i guess!! Still, if you have any questions my ask box and other social media are open!! I hope you like my blog, art and even fanfics or projects!! Have a good day!

[em0puppy]

i really don't normally do these things but i've been starting to feel just a teensy bit guilty about not being the sappy type lol and i got this urge at 1 am this morning while in a coffee-driven all-nighter and decided fuck it (this is a repeating factor in decisions i make. send help.)

so here's a small lil list of amazing people i'm genuinely overjoyed to be friends or even just moots with <3

yes im copying brookie bite me /silly

stuff under cut cuz this is gonna be long lol

@mischiefburns - my darling husband first of course !! <3 half joking marriage aside i'd say you're one of my closest friends - even if we've only known each other for just a few months. you're just the right amount of gentle and still know when to put your foot (er, claw-bug-thing) down, and i admire that about you. you know when to stop when boundaries are set up and to not push those, and you're not afraid to enforce your own, something i constantly fail to do (• ▽ •;) i love how open you are about yourself and how caring you care <3 ilysm !! mmmmwah :3 (im trying to get better at regretevator i promise)

@bluginkgo - first things first if you disagree with anything here i will punt you. (/silly /hj) you're so endearing, and your little emoticons never fail to make me smile. the message you sent me the other week really helped a lot, and your reaction spamming when i post art really does help with my motivation !! you're one of the most wholesome people i've ever met, and when your discord pfp changes to your sona with a bandaged leg i get worried for you. i love seeing your discussions in the nuzi server or your art popping up on my dash because HOLY SHIT YOU'RE GIFTED I TELL YOU !!!! like your nuzi fankid exploded my final 0.3 braincells i have left in the absolute best way but i'll save that speech for another time <3

@noridoorman - HIIIII MOM >:3 (i hope this tag is ok!! lmk if it's not <3) you're literally the second person i thought of when writing the idea down for this fhsfeesfigr. i love hanging out with you in VC and watching your stream or you drawing or listening to you and doomed voice ace attorney and you threatening to throw certain people (brookie and blu specifically) out windows or grab them by the scruff is literally the highlight of my day and never fails to make me laugh. you're so kind and funny and i'm sorry i can't share your love of k-pop 😔 (/silly) TRYING TO CATCH UP ON CINNAMON SCENT TOO BUT THE ADHD IS LIKE NUH UH </33

@brookiedaaroacecookie - im claiming you and miko as my siblings we can be triplets (/hj /nf) BUT SERIOUSLY THO i view you as my younger sibling and i love hanging out with you <3 you officiating mischief and mine's (GRR OFC IT WAS REAL /silly) wedding will forever be a memory i'll keep and tell to my grandkids in sixty something years or something like that idfk. i still have your little tag thing screenshotted and i'm sorry i can't tell the difference between french toast and grilled cheese </3 (/silly) also whats keats and why do you always laugh at it or was that an autocorrect thing /silly but also /gq

@spinnydraws - DFUHERFGRGIE I KNOW WE'VE ONLY BEEN MOOTS FOR LIKE. A WEEK AND A HALF OR SOMETHING IDK. BUT. HEAR ME OUT. already i view you as a friend and i'm extremely grateful to be moots with you! you're extremely funny and kind, and when you like or reblog my art i ascend to heaven. everytime i see your art i explode all over again even if i've already exploded not five minutes ago. AND WHY ARE YOU LITERALLY SO N. LITERALLY. WAHT. (/vpos) BUT LIKE. honestly you're a big comfort of mine already (i have a problem of wanting to be besties with literally every n kinnie out there. uzi kintype noises.) and i'd love to get to know you more !! <3

@nuzilicious - i refuse to give up trying to make you undislike me. until then all u get is ur awesome and im extremely thankful u havent blocked and banned me!!!!!! /silly /j

@uzibrainrot - omg what do i even say. you're so wholesome and so goofy and i loved roleplaying md with you on roblox even if it was just for a bit and if you wanna do it again sometime i'd absolutely love to!!!! i know we don't interact much but when we do it's awesome !! i promise the art trade is almost done i promise promise promise shhdshjdshfh. ALSO WHEN YOU WANNA WORK ON THAT VOLL CRACKFIC TOGETHER LMK!!! :DDD!!

i would @ andy but idk his tumblr so um. andy if you see this, you're not only one of the kindest most woke and most funny beings on this planet (i've never seen a cishet guy do a colon three it's literally so funny HELP /lhj /gen), but also a mind-blowingly awesome mc player !! :DD

ok i must disappear into the void to take care of my cramps (ew) so im gonna die now but ily all sm and hope you're all doing MORE than great !!! :DD!!!!! (/p /gen) explodes and dies in the grand canyon. or something. idk i need to stop exploding.

[esoterichistoria]

Introduction & rules

This is my Nevermore side blog.

This blog will be used for confessions, art, reblogs and analysis posts.

It will mostly be used for confessions though.

Apologies for the long post ahead.

About me

To remind you that I’m a real person.

I’m Soren, I’m nonbinary transmasc and sapphic ace. I’m 18, currently on a gap year not sure with what I want to do. I’m Mexican-American.

I enjoy fantasy and queer media, as well as comics and art. I write my own stories and have my own characters as well. My favorite Nevermore characters are the Deans, Prospero, and Berenice.

I speak English, Spanish, and I’m currently learning Brazilian Portuguese. Not well enough to speak it yet.

I don’t really get involved in ships, fandom or fics since I don’t really like getting involved in stuff like that.

If my response sounds annoyed or dry, I’m not mad at you. This is just how I talk.

My rules/personal boundaries

How to send one? There is a button on my profile that says “Ask me something” click it, and choose if you want to be anonymous or not.

- Don’t be rude or aggressive to me or other confessors, that will be 10 demerits for impolite tone and 5 more for audacity. /hj

- Sometimes I may take a while or a couple days to answer yours, this is because I get fatigue easily as well as I have a life outside of this blog.

- That being said, I have every right to not answer a confession or post it, do not bother me about this or get upset with me.

- Please write your confession well, don’t use typing quirks or anything like that since it may be difficult for some to read.

- Try to keep it short, if you can’t, then it’s alright.

- If you would like your confession deleted, then please message me about it and I will remove it.

- Do not get mad at me over a confession you don’t like, those are not my opinions, all I do is post them and chime in with my thoughts.

- Since there are lots of minors in the fandom, please don’t send anything nsfw to me, and get mad if I don’t post it. If a confessions contains potentially triggering topics, please put warnings.

- Don’t send anything related to fastpass.

- Do not spam me with meaningless texts in my inbox, you gain nothing from that.

- If you dislike what I do, and are trying to get some sort of reaction out of me by being rude, it’s not going to work.

- Basically, just be polite and respectful with your opinion and others, you will receive merits for this.

Final thoughts

I created this blog because I got into Nevermore the day it came out, I enjoyed the gothic themes as well as the art and concept of the story.

I started doing “confessions”, because I thought it would be a way to pass time, and because I have friends who have certain opinions about Nevermore, that they would like to say anonymously. I thought about how there could be others that might agree with certain opinions and wanted those people to have a way to express them without the fear of being dogpiled for them. I did not expect this blog to blow up because of it.

That being said, if you do not like seeing these on your timeline or in tags, feel free to block me or to just scroll past if it is bothering you. No one is telling you to look at my blog.

That is all, thank you.

[thehollowwriter]

7, 17, 27, 37, 47, 57, 67, 77, 87, 97 for the octoquartet on the relationship aak game? If thats too much you can only pick the ones you wanna do!

Aaaaah thank you! I'll do em all!

7. Who likes forehead kisses? Who likes hand kisses? Who likes neck kisses?

Finn likes neck kisses a lot, actually. Azul and Jade like hand kisses and Floyd likes forehead kisses, but none of them would complain if it was changed up a bit.

17. Who steals whose clothes? Does their significant other mind?

Finn does like wearing his partner's clothes (he was very amazed by this discovery during his first year) but only during the holidays when they're alone. It's 3x too big for him but he likes it. Floyd likes to wear the others' clothes (even Jade's but ofc that's platonic) on bad days because their scent makes him feel better- only loose clothes though.

Azul is adamant he doesn't so such a thing, but his boyfriends still find their jerseys and scarves mysteriously vanishing.... Jade isn't quite as big on it as the other three, but he will wear their scarves from time to time.

27. Who tends to drive on long journeys? Who navigates?

While they don't drive, if they did Azul would drive and either Jade or Finn would navigate. (Jade would give the wrong directions for funsies so please put Finn in charge)

37. Who is more likely to avenge their S/O if they were hurt or killed?

All of them? Look at them! They're all going to do it 100% and it is not going to be pretty.

47. If it ever came down to it, who is turning to the darkside to save the other?

Again, all of them. They are technically on the darkside already, though, aren't they?

57. Who reminds the other to wear a coat when it's cold out?

Jaaaadeeee. We love our caring eel. Floyd wouldn't bother and Azul and Finn both have a "lol suck it up" way of viewing it.

67. Who is more vocal? Who is more experienced?

Fun fact I was just sitting trying to figure out wtf this meant and then I realised they meant in the naughty sense 😭

It's Azul/j

77. What is something they would never forgive the other one for doing/saying?

Betrayal in any way, shape, or form. And that includes cheating. They are poly, so it isn't a problem if they date other people, but like any poly relationship they have set rules and boundaries on what's OK or not, so violating those boundaries is a very big betrayal of trust. They do insult and undermine each other for fun a lot, so there aren't too many things on the list? I suppose seriously harming would be one but like... Finn and Floyd fight for fun.

87. If they ever lost one another in a public place, how do they find the other?

If it's Finn, they go to find either the nearest art gallery or coffee shop or phone him. If it's Jade they go to the nearest place with mushrooms, if it's Azul they just listen for his smug ass voice (/j they phone him) and if it's Floyd they look for the nearest ruckus.

97. How do they wake their S/O up? Is it difficult to rouse them?

Finn is really difficult to wake up on a dreamless night because he is getting that proper sleep he rarely gets, and so he's like the dead. When he did have dreams, he's like a mouse on the lookout for a cat. He wakes up the others with little kisses. Azul probably just shakes them awake or pulls off the covers (he's an asshole like that/hj) and Jade is the draw the curtains type of guy. Floyd either wakes no one up and goes back to sleep or flips them over in bed ufkdisidf.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @theleechyskrunkly @officialdaydreamer00 @kitwasnothere @cynthinesia @cyanide-latte @oya-oya-okay @elenauaurs @jovieinramshackle for octoquartet stuff :P

[discount--dracula]

introduction post of my furbers + descriptions !!!

penne (she/her)

a little shy, but very strong. she loves her wife and life itself. she also loves listening to aganist me! and the smell of grass. she's autistic so she's sensitive to loud noises and also has a very uninterested looking expression at all times, making it a little difficult to talk to other furbies. her friends are very understanding and accommodate her needs, though. she wants to learn how to play the guitar one day

penne is a trans lesbian

her birthday is june 13th

post where she's featured are tagged #penne peapod

charlotte (she/her)

charlotte is half furby, 25% crow and 25% bat. she loves flea markets, antique shops, visiting people's dreams, tea parties, and shiny trinkets. what she also loves is her beloved wife penne. they're inseparable

charlotte is lesbian

her birthday is may 17th

posts where she's featured are tagged #madame charlotte the terrible

strawberry cheesecake (she/her)

cheesecake loves all things cute and fluffy and pink. if she had her own room it would be filled with sanrio merchandise. she loves to play dressup and doing arts and crafts

cheesecake is trans

her birthday is march 18th

posts where she's featured are tagged #strawberry cheesecake heart

blueberry muffin (he/they, former prefered)

muffin is cheesecake's twin. he likes climbing trees, singing, space, and candy. he LOVES going outside and usually isn't a fan of dressing up but has his moments

muffin is nonbinary

his birthday is april 29th

posts where he's featured are tagged #blueberry muffin star

404 (they/xe/he, interchangably)

404 is an absolute loser and idiot, zero survival skills (/affectionate) xe enjoys battery acid (the drink, they have had bad experience with real battery acid), going to malls, sour candy, getting into trouble, and invader zim

404 is pangender and pansexual

xir birthday is april 13th

posts featuring him are tagged #404 name not found

lucas (he/him)

world's biggest smelliest meanest hater. the only thing he finds joy in is others' failure and suffering. except for taking care of the twins, he loves doing that and is very protective of them

lucas is gay and homophobic /hj

his birthday is august 18th

posts where he's featured are tagged #crusty old lucas

sylvester (he/him)

sylvie LOVES fashion and being nice fresh clean and organized. he loves going to the city to show off his beauty to the passerbys. he also enjoys trying new foods. he's well mannered and a sweetheart for the most part but can be a drama queen at times as well. sylvie is also a very smart furb, he likes to learn new things

sylvester is aroace

his birthday is unknown due to the sticker being faded :( we instead celebrate his arrival's anniversary, which is february 14th

posts where he's featured are tagged #sylvester nimbus ayloh

dandelion fluff (she/they, interchangably)

dannie loves her superstitions and lucky charms. they talk to trees as a hobby. their favorite one is near a river and "heart shaped if you squint". huge enjoyer of thrift stores and vintage. afraid of thunder (the sky is mad!!) and huge sunlight enthusiast. also she may or may not be able to read minds

dannie is a demigirl lesbian

their birthday is november 8th

posts where she's featured are tagged #dandelion fluff the flower child

riso (she/they, former preferred)

riso LOVES mitski and testing different perfume scents. she's a very kind and sensitive gal. riso is penne's older sister

posts where she's featured are tagged #riso risotto

riso is biromantic and asexual

her birthday is may 31st

multivitamin (any pronouns) and spork (he/him)

feral things.

multivitamin is genderfluid and spork is transmasc. both are aromantic

posts featuring multivitamin are tagged #multivitamin frut juce, while posts featuring spork are tagged #sporkosaurus

[averageclawcodeenjoyer]

Alright so as far as introductions go, I guess I should probably make one before I get too far into this.

HERES MY ABOUT ME POST!

My name's Leonardo, and you can call me any version of that that you want (Leo, Leon, Leonard, Nardo[my favorite], either way, it's all the same to me.) My pronouns are He/Him. I am an artist, author, animator, and a DEDICATED CLAWCODE ENTHUSIST (Hence the name)

I am also VERY autistic and don't get tone a lot, so tone tags are very important to me, especially when there's joking or sarcasm involved.

Ahem.

I know the Spiderverse Fandom isn't particularly alive (SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP) but I will try to post often, even if it's just a shitpost here and there. I really want to help feed into the ClawCode brain rot since the content for these two is SEVERELY FUCKING LACKING. So. If you have requests for things, I will probably end up doing them! My asks are always open, and I'd love to hear from anybody. I don't have any friends that love them the way that I do 😔😔

I have not had Tumblr before! Which is a little insane, so I'm new to all of this and learning how everything works. Please forgive me if I don't know the proper etiquette on this app lmao. My friend has been guiding me through all of this and told me to make an About Me post, so that's what I'm doing.

Here are some tags that will frequent my posts!

Yapping Hour - Will either be used for headcanons, or short stories/ideas/other ClawCode related crap. It's just going to be a general tag that will probably go on most of my posts from here on out.

Slur Gallery - Will be of the art I post of them, be it ship art or other :3 because everybody deserves a gallery of slurs to look at. AND JUST LOOK AT THEM!

Earworm - Is the tag I'll use when there's music involved, like songs that remind me of them (and the heavy analysis that goes with it **COMING SOON**), or animatics that I'm working on, or just anything that has to do with a song. Edits, artworks, the whole shebang.

Talkaholic - This will ALSO be used for mini stories/facfics, but more often than the yapping hour. So if you wanna read my writing of them that's what you can find it under.

Offline - will be under posts like these, where it isn't directly related to anything, just random blocks of text or other art that I feel like posting.

Oil And Water - THIS tag will be about the fanfic I am currently (excruciatingly slowly) writing! It doesn't have a happy ending and is meant to be a HEAVY angst story, like hurt/no comfort or very little comfort. I have one chapter out currently but will be working on more soon (and will make a separate post about it! But I will link it here as well. MOTIVATE ME TO WRITE IT /HJ)

Prowler Party - Is what I'll put on ALL of my posts as an extra way to help find me if one so desires d=(^o^)=b

OOC - On the chance that I might make something intentionally out of character, I will put this beneath it. I know a lot of people don't like mischaracterization, or incorrect portrayal of a character, but sometimes it's really fun to write, so I will be including that was well.

I think that's all that I can think of right now (I'm running off of an hour and 40 minutes sleep), but things may change or be edited in the future. But for now, I'll be signing off.

Shipwrecked - THIS WILL BE ABOUT MY SELKIE/SIREN AU BECAUSE IM ACTUALLY NOT OKAY ABOUT IT AND NEED TO SHARE MY INSANITY

HELLO AND THANK YOU TO THE WARM WELCOME I'VE RECIEVED!!

MORE COMIGN SOON

[justalilpearlie]

Introduction/Fun Pearlie Facts

Was abt time I did one of these.

Hello everyone, my name is Pearl, Pearlie or Sam/Sammy if you're feeling like it. Friends also call me Martini sometimes.

I am a minor, my labels... we dont talk about them (fem presenting ftm gay/mlm + trying out gendervoid and verinix + bigender??) uhmm and I go by He/She, tho mostly He/Him by strangers- I can She/Her myself and close friends/mutuals are allowed! (I also go by neos: Void/Moon/Sweet/It/Fluff/Love/Fizz/Paw)

I'm from Argentina, born and raised, never moved. Speak fluent english and spanish.

I got the 'tism and the adhd, aswell as BPD and a few other things I wont list right now! But yeah I'm psychotic (ooo scary word.. lmao)

- -🌄-📀-🌙- -💚- -💛- -���-🌄-✨- -💛- -💚- -🌙-📀-🌄- -

I'm an IRL of many, mainly c!Pearl (mcyt), Samuel Emily (fnaf [games canon]) and Shin Tsukimi (yttd). If you don't like it you can leave, block me, or whatever, cause you aint gonna change my life or how I am. I'm in therapy, which unlike random hate and harrassment online, does help me :)

I like to roleplay, draw, sometimes make playlists or moodboards.. And my biggest interests right now are Life Series (+ evo + new life), Empires1(+ a bit of e2) and FNaF! (i dont rlly like the books tho lol..)

I use kin tags for reach cause I'd love interaction from any fellow lifers or empires ppl, hermits aswell!! Tho I havent finished s8 or s9 yet...

Fictionkins, therians and traumagenic systems all welcome!

- -💥-🐺-🌙- -❤️- -💛- -✨-💥-✨- -💛- -❤️- -🌙-🐺-💥- -

DNI prefferably:

- Basic DNI criteria (proshippers, homophobes, transphobes, racists, TERFs, ableist, etc)

- Endos/non-traumagenic "systems" DNI. block me if u want, i wont argue abt it in the comments/reblogs. or interact if u want but im not gonna follow u back or anythin shrugs.

- reality checkers or anti-IRLs DNI. I aint "romanticizing" shit, I'm existing and living my life, if thats a problem to you too bad cause my psychologist aproves of what I'm doing, since I aint harming anyone and I myself am doing dandy.

- anti-kin also DNI cause most of my friends are fictionkins and if you talk shit abt my fellas idk i wouldnt like having u around much

CCs interact at your own risk. This is my domain, cyan man & moon lady. /hj

- -🪸-🐸-🌙- -💙- -🩵- -✨-🪸-✨- -🩵- -💙- -🌙-🐸-🪸- -

"Disclaimer"

- I talk about MajorMoon (Scott x Pearl) a LOT, if u didnt notice by the acc theme. These are my romantic memories, its a gay ship, not woman/gay man, so if it makes u uncomfortable or u hate it or whatever then ur probably not gonna like my content lmao. COUGH, consider joining us if you do like what you see... /nf We're a small comunity of supporters.. just me.. and a few of my peeps... that was a joke, sir. /ref

- This isn't roleplay, its my main acc where im ""unapologetically"" myself, but if u do wanna rp life series/empires u can always shoot me a dm and maybe I'll give u my discord.

- I talk about myself (c!Pearl) using 3rd person in many posts tagged with main fandom tags. This is to cause less confusion to casual fans slash ""normies"" (lhj) that well.. don't know what IRLs are! Also that way I feel safer and don't have to worry as much abt getting harassed and such for my identity.

- -🌸-⛰️-🌙- -💚- -💙- -✨-🌸-✨- -💙- -💚- -🌙-⛰️-🌸- -

Special People Mentions!! fps = * (1 or more.. wouldnt say in a priority sorta order but. more or less yea)

Family! <3 🌼@pehpurr* SISTER!! super duper cool, her art is great and you should check it out!! YOU. You're the brightest little girl (i say like ur not older than me) I'VE EVER MET ACTUALLY! You're so passionate and loving I freaking adore you!! I love you so much Scar, you're one of the best things to ever happen to me, Kanny &lt;3 ⚙️@gentlexmadman DAD!! you are my daaaad, you're my dad! woogie woogie woogie! ANOTHER amazing artist! mr "I know that guy-", very funny, Henry "Autism" Emily... the copper king, my father. Speaking to you is always comforting. Love you so much papa, you're amazing :)

Simply special <3 ☕@insomniac-coffeehouse** You're all simply so very special to me. I love spending time with you guys and playing stuff together, you mean a lot to me and I'm so glad I met you. I hope we're still close for this year and many more! You're incredibly talented, not only at art, at everything you do. You spark joy in my brain and my heart <3 From the bottom of my heart, I'm in love with the hope you bring to this world. 🍊Jack***, oh my dear Jacky, where do I even begin, sport... you really are my other half. Mi media naranja if you will. haha.. I love every second we spend together, I love your voice, I love your eyes, I love your smile, your laughter. I love your use of words, the way you speak, your humor, your seriousness and goofiness. You stiff fuck, you were made for me and I was made for you, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You're my everything, mi vida, mi luz, mi estrella. Mi amor, mi mundo. <3

New friends! 🍓@strawberrystarfield I know we met fairly recently but you're all incredibly fun to talk to, your art is also amazing, your accent is real pretty (cough for a bri-💥), you're real sweet and I love reading all your thoughts and critiques about things :} (love ya Aspen /gen) 🏜️@fagdykegtws My right hand man! I know we just met through the rarepair server but oh my god we're in the same brainwave!!! You're so fun to vc and chat with and you got the best ideas ever fr fr, love ya Chewy, you're real sweet even w how lil i know you ;)

That's it folks, love yall and see you around!

[valleyfthdolls]

1, 7, 10, and 24 for the violence ask game, w/ the fandom being FNAF 💪💪

Mostly fandom related bc holy shit this Fandom has the worst god damn takes /hj

1: Elizabeth Afton. It’s SO clear to see that the girl was a victim of blatant neglect, emotional abuse, and likely physical beating given the graphic novels as well. People who characterize her as a spoiled brat who William loved and treated like a princess drive me fucking mad. God forbid an abuse victim have a fawn reflex to their abuser and also be a small child with small child behaviors I guess. And people can’t even (though they do try to) pull the fucking “oh well she’s just so badly written” with Liz. A) none of the Aftons are written at all, B) Liz is THE most explored of the Afton kids. The series digs into her childhood and her psychology in the novels, much more than any canon material does for Michael. Elizabeth is written fine, y’all are just misogynists who are weird as fuck about abuse being depicted in more than one way.

7: If I have to see one more piece of DCA x abused!y/n mermaid mafia au tentacle porn art on my dash I think that’ll be the last straw for me. I have every tag related to them blocked. Which sucks because they’re fine characters! They’re cool! I just can’t STAND the fanon.

10: Everything surrounding the crying child, ranging from obnoxious name discourse people get way too comfortable sending others hate over to obsessively absolving Michael of any wrongdoing to outright abuse apologism and ableism.

24: Michael’s abuse of the crying child. People will jump through literally every hoop you could POSSIBLY imagine to say it’s not abuse, the word abuse is too strong, Michael’s not and never was an abuser, and it’s such bullshit. You want to like a redeemed guy but can’t admit he did anything to be redeemed from. Locking your little sibling in rooms? Intentionally tormenting and scaring them? Grabbing and dragging them around like Mike does at the party with his friends? Every decision he made leading up to the bite? That is ALL sibling abuse made worse by the fact that Mike seems to be, during those 5 days, his brother’s primary caretaker, a role he uses and abuses the power of to abuse his brother. If you can’t accept that I don’t truly believe you actually like Michael so much as you like the 2018 gacha softboy version of him who can do no wrong and was the victim all the time.

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 9 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 9.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, not really fluff but a lot of high highs and a lot of low lows

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: miss jenn is a legend icon queen slay goddess (cited two times), iconic interactions between the cast, jealous ricky being a cutie, ricky and EJ are not bros yet, nini has gone from messy to borderline evil, your mom is a legend, kourtney anxiety foreshadowing, opening night/theatre vibes so strong it made me tear up a little /hj, lynne bowen is a horrible horrible toxic person!!!, todd jumpscare, ricky has a mental breakdown, EJ is trying his best but horribly misreads the situation, ricky is in a crisis, ricky bpd episode, art to cope :'), ricky has a good support system, reader is good in a crisis, nini is REALLY testing your patience, gina gets a well deserved moment to shine, terrible theatre etiquette, ricky gets emotionally ambushed, mike is a good dad, nini gets yelled at by reader (slay), reader yells at lynne (slay), reader gets slapped (in a dramatic way not a violent or sexy way), reader gets called a slut as an insult, ricky defends you, messy necessary screaming match (slay), things are said that cannot be unsaid :/

summary: opening night is just as magical and incredible as ricky hoped it would be, just as wonderful as you made it sound - until the worst case scenario comes to fruition. but the show must go on, right?

song recs: something about this night - finding neverland obc, twenty million people - my favorite year obc, opening up - waitress obc, twinkle in her eye - leann rimes, window seat - amelie obc, this is how I disappear (instrumental) - my chemical romance, un organo suona - ennio morricone, the music and the mirror - a chorus line obc, holding onto you - twenty one pilots, you oughta know - jagged little pill obc

other media: "art is not a luxury, it's sustinance" - ethan hawke ted talk clip, "and the way he sings sends a chill right through me" - lullaby for the taken lyric by kimya dawson, "what a mother does for you out of obligation vs what a mother does for you because she wants to" - text post/poem by tumblr user vympr,

a/n: fangz to cici for reading!!! I felt like my immortal chapter 6 "paragraph" 4 while writing the last part trying not to under or overuse dialog tags lmao. remember when I said it's gonna get messy? it gets worse :)

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @pikzel @demirunner @brinaslittlefreak @girlfriendwhoseawitch @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames @rainforest-daisies @sunshineangel-reads

You and Ricky had been planning to get to the El Rey early on opening night since tech week, to make sure you have plenty of extra time to get ready, warm up, and get in character. Plus, you’ve been telling him how much you’ve missed just being in theaters, and near stages. The more time you’re there, the better. When you’re on the way over Ricky couldn’t shake the excitement gripping him. You can’t seem shake the feeling something was going to go wrong.

It was different from nerves, different from anxiety or worries that everyone can get before a big event. It was the same small, nudging feeling you got the night the basement flooded during your run in Matilda. It’s not as bad as it had been that time, but you take in a breath, steadying yourself and knowing you should be ready for anything. When you do, the feeling is quickly overshadowed by your excitement. You haven’t acted in far too long, and you’re ecstatic that you’ll get to perform again soon. 

Once you get to the theater, you and Ricky are the first to sign the sign in sheet. You draw a little smiley face next to his name, and when he glances back at you, eyes falling on the paper. He smiles, struck by sudden joy at the little face. He leans back over and grabs a pen, drawing a smiley next to your name on the line below. Miss Jenn glances down when he returns the pen. 

“Oh!” she exclaims, seeing the little faces, “How cute. I love this energy we’re creating.” she gestures vaguely before shooing you off to your respective dressing rooms to get ready. 

Soon everyone’s there, and you’re once again wrapped up in the familiar hustle and bustle of show nights. You and your castmates are simultaneously getting in costume, warming up, and trying to get ready while helping each other’s hair and makeup. Ashlyn and Nini join you in an impromptu karaoke session, singing your hearts out to Bop to the Top while Nina riffs and harmonizes. The boys, one or two rooms away, start singing Getcha Head in the Game at the same time. In spite of the chaotic cacophony of voices, it's both a good way to warm up, and a good outlet for the nervous energy growing, bouncing from one person to the next, turning electric. 

Kourney enters suddenly, grabbing some bobby pins.

"Do you know if you have any safety pins?" She asks.

"Uh," you pause doing your hair, tying it up into a bouncy low half updo, and fumble through your bag, "how many do you need?" 

"Two or three?" She says hopefully. No matter how many you buy, bobby pins and safety pins always seem to be in short supply at every theater you've been to. You dig around for a minute before finding them, handing them to Kourtney.

"Thank you!" She declares, "Seb's shirt just completely-"

"Has anyone seen my glasses?" Ashlyn asks, and Kourtney pauses, noticing she's not wearing them. 

"Shit," Kourtney mutters, both of you looking around for them.

"Knock knock!" Comes Seb’s voice from behind the door.

"Decent!" You and Ashlyn reply in unison. Seb enters, holding the side of his shirt together with his hands. 

"Any luck?" He asks Kourtney. 

"Right here," she replies, holding up the safety pins. "Turn around." Nina puts in her headphones and starts doing some vocal exercises and scales to warm up a little more. Seb lifts up his jacket so Kourtney can pin the ripped seam back together.

"Oh," she remembers, "have you seen Ashlyn’s glasses?"

"The really big ones?" He asks.

"Yeah."

"Nope." He shrugs. She turns to Ashlyn. 

"We'll find them." Kourtney reassures her. Seb heads back to his dressing room he shares with Ricky and EJ, and you move on to the last few steps of your makeup routine. 

"Where are they?" Ashlyn huffs rhetorically. Natalie pokes her head in a moment later. 

"40 minutes till show time!"

"Thank you 40!" The three of you reply together. A little while later, you’re finally dressed and waiting for the glue on your eyelashes to get tacky, when you hear EJ call your name. You stumble out of your dressing room, zipping up your boot, and you’re greeted with EJ in his Chad costume, clearly in a huff. 

“Can you help me with my eyeliner?” he asks, a slightly petulant tone to his voice, handing you a black pencil. You laugh. 

“Yeah, hold on.” you go back into your dressing room, passing by Seb telling Kourtney something. You dig through your makeup bag as Seb reenters, Darbus glasses in hand, presenting them to Ashlyn. 

"Where were they?" She exclaims. 

"The prop table!" He says. 

"Why?" Ash asks, stating your thoughts exactly. 

"Natalie says they're technically a prop because in the detention scene when you…" you find what you're looking for, missing the tail end of his sentence as you leave a moment later with a stiff angled brush in hand. You grab EJ and lead him to the stairs where he can sit down. He does so, and you rub the bristles against the eyeliner, demonstrating for him. 

“This will make the application a lot more precise. Close your eyes…” you instruct, tilting his head back. You smudge the outside of his lash lines, careful not to make it look like too much. 

“Okay, now this is the scary part…” you trail off, gently lifting up his eyelid. “I swear I’m not going to stab you, just look down and don’t blink.” you instruct at the worried look on his face. You tight line the middle of his lash line for a defined, natural effect, then repeat the step on the other side. 

“Okay,” you say, pulling away to check that it looks even, unaware of Ricky standing a few feet away, watching you hold EJ’s face. You look so focused, and a twinge of jealousy flashes through his stomach, wishing you were holding his face, looking focused at him like that. 

“You should be good,” you say, and Ricky approaches, dragging you away as EJ thanks you.

“I just need to borrow her for a second.” he cuts EJ off, smiling tensely at him - one he returns. Ricky takes you a few feet away while EJ goes back into their dressing room. 

“What’s up?” you ask. He lets out a breathy laugh.

“I just… I can’t figure out this whole bronzer thing.” You bite back a smile. You know that  it’s bullshit, specifically because you went through his whole stage makeup routine with him twice last night. He could do his makeup and anyone else’s with one hand tied behind his back, so he obviously just wants your attention. You can’t deny that it’s really cute - and it’s working. He’s probably nervous, you figure. You chuckle, taking the brush from him. 

“Make a fish face,” you instruct, sucking in your cheeks and puckering your lips. His face mirrors yours, and you blend the product into his foundation. Your hand rests on his jaw, angling it this way and that until you’re satisfied with your work. He glances briefly back at the stairs, where EJ has long since left. Ricky’s about to look for any other excuse to keep you here for a few more minutes, your eyes light up, remembering something.

“Oh!” you exclaim, turning around, “Stay right here.” You’re back a moment later after digging through your bag past bobby pins, safety pins, your water bottle, script, sewing kit, extra makeup, makeup wipes, bandaids, and throat lozenges. You grab a small box, holding it triumphantly before running back out to Ricky in the hall. You stand in front of him, that glimmer in your eye. 

“I have a surprise.” Excitement swirls in his chest.

“What is it?” he asks, trying to suppress the anticipatory giggle bubbling up, his energy matching yours. You hand him the small box, and he looks at it, confused. He opens it slowly, pulling out a little charm. It’s a dog tag with the number 14, and a metallic T on a jump ring.

“Oh my god…” he breathes, looking at it closer. You’re beaming, so glad that he likes it. 

“You know,” you say softly, “something to remember your first show by. And your heart ring was looking kind of lonely.” You smile, pointing to the plastic ring he still wears around his neck, waiting until the last possible minute to take it off. You barely get the words out before he grabs your arms, pulling you close and kissing you. His lips are warm as they move against yours, and for a split second, you forget where you are, completely losing context for everything around you. 

“I love-” he murmurs against your mouth, freezing for an instant. Your hearts skip a beat in tandem, then he cuts himself off to kiss you again. “I love it.” he finishes. You smile against his lips, pulling away very reluctantly. He leans back in, pressing a few more kisses to your lips before you wiggle out of his grasp. 

“Ricky!” you laugh, “We’re gonna mess up our makeup. We can kiss after the show.” He runs his fingers up and down your arms, gazing at you as you talk. You have all his attention. 

“Okay,” he says in that light hearted, joking tone of his that always makes you laugh, “but I’m gonna hold you to that.” You laugh again, and he takes off his necklace so you can slip on the new charm. After getting it fixed on the chain, you reattach it to his neck. 

At the end of the hall where you’re standing, Nina lingers, watching Ricky touch you and kiss you like that. It makes her sick, and she finds herself holding back a gag. Her hours of research had turned into days, and she has your playbill.com page open on her phone at this very moment. She’s torn, reminiscing over how much she loved your performances and how obsessed with you she was as a kid, and simultaneously fuming over it. You’ve done all this professional work, you’ve acted on Broadway, and now you’re here at East High? 

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. She wanted so badly to be you, to have your perfect life, and you threw it all away for what? To come do crappy high school theatre in a town that couldn’t be further from New York? She fights a laugh suddenly, realizing just how much dirt she has on you. There must be a reason you’ve been keeping this secret, lying to everyone, lying to Ricky. She shakes her head. She doesn’t know why yet, but she’s going to find out. 

35 minutes before curtain, Miss Jenn gathers everyone for circle time, and a cast meeting to boost morale before the show. Everyone is finally in costume and Kourtney follows Seb, makeup pallet in hand, adjusting the finishing touches to the glitter on his cheeks. You can feel the energy stirring and growing, electric between all of you. 

“Most of you know that our dazzling Taylor had to leave under family circumstances. Gina sends her love and support, but has left for the east coast and will not be able to make it to tonight’s performance.” Miss Jenn says. You and Ricky share a look, trying not to be too obvious. You got Gina a plane ticket together, and your mom is at the airport right now to pick her up. The last you heard from her, Gina’s flight was delayed. Now there’s only a slim chance she’ll get here in time. You silently keep your fingers crossed, praying to whatever theatre gods are out there that she’ll make it to the theater before it's too late. 

“And so,” Miss Jenn continues, “I have asked… Kourtney to fill in, in her place!”

The room erupts into cheers. Kourtney smiles, eyes on the floor bashfully. She’s praying she doesn’t seem as nervous as she feels. It’s not that she didn’t expect you guys to be supportive of her subbing in as Taylor, but seeing first hand how excited everyone is for her eases some of the worries that have been building up. 

“Now,” Miss Jenn continues, “everyone join hands.” After some heartfelt words of encouragement and other usual circle time warm ups, she claps her hands.

“Let’s go, wildcats! 20 minutes to curtain!”

Once again, the room erupts into cheers. 

“Now, if I can get my main characters and my ensemble members starting the show with a mic on stage for mic check?” she directs, pointing towards the way to the wings. You walk with everyone else towards the stage, pausing when you pass Miss Jenn. 

“Do you want me to help Kourtney get ready?” you ask. Her hair and makeup are done, she just has to get in costume, but you can sense that she needs a pep talk. 

“That would be fantastic,” she says with a look that indicates she thinks Kourtney could use a pep talk too, “thank you, Sharpay.” She pulls out her walkie to let Big Red know you and Kourtney are going to be released from mic check early to finish getting ready. After singing We’re All In This Together while Big Red adjusts your volume from the sound booth, Kourtney sings Bop to the Top, voice getting louder and quieter as Red tweaks the settings. Once you’ve both gotten the thumbs up, you scurry backstage to your dressing room, handing her costume pieces while she gets changed. 

“Oh, wait,” you say before she pulls on her top. You grab your setting spray you use for shows from your bag. “Close your eyes.” You mist her face with the product, fanning it dry so it doesn’t smudge. 

“Thanks,” she says. You take one look at her expression, and can tell she’s nervous.  

“You okay?” You ask. She hesitates, then sighs.

“I had two weeks to learn all my lines. I had two weeks to learn all the lines and the songs, I haven’t even gotten to rehearse on stage with you guys, and I’m just so worried I’m going to blow it, or choke in front of everyone…” she trails off. This is clearly the tip of the iceberg, and she fiddles with her bracelets, trying to get out some nervous energy. 

“There is no way you’re going to choke.” you say confidently, “You know this show inside and out! Plus, haven’t you been running lines with Nini the whole time?” you ask.

“Yeah,” she replies, listening carefully, trying to grab onto your reassurance.

“Almost all of Taylor’s scenes are with Gabriella.” You state. Her expression changes as she realizes you’re right. She knows this part better than she was giving herself credit for. 

“Plus there will be scripts in the wings if you need to refresh between scenes.” 

“Yeah,” she says again, more confident this time. “I know my lines, I know the songs, I know the dances - mostly, at least - so it’s all going to be fine! Even if the choreography in Stick to the Status Quo is still totally terrifying, and I have no idea how to dance with a lunch tray or do a death wack, it’s going to be fine!” Her laughter turned from relieved to slightly panicked again. 

“You think you’re nervous for Stick to the Status Quo?” you ask rhetorically, a comedic note to your voice, “I have to get caked in the face!” You exclaim with a chuckle. You’ve only practiced with an actual cake once, during the last tech rehearsal, and it was messy, to say the least. Literally and figuratively. 

Kourtney laughs, remembering the whipped cream that got everywhere, how loud you were yelling in character before storming off. It took more makeup wipes than you'd expected to get the sticky sugar off your face. 

“We’ll get through it together.” You state, holding out your hand. She squeezes it, reassuringly.

“Yeah. We will.” 

“Five minutes to places!” Natalie calls, poking her head in. 

“Thank you five!” you both reply. You check your phone one last time, the new text from your mom stating that she’s still at the airport, waiting for Gina’s flight. You text Ricky the same thing, letting him know you’re all still waiting for more updates on the delay. The good news is that your mom’s friend from work - who was planning on coming to see the show anyway - is going to stream the show to your mom until she can get there, that way she won’t miss anything. 

It doesn’t feel like five minutes has gone by when Natalie is calling for places, ushering everybody into the wings and into their starting places and positions. Hushed whispers of encouragement and break a leg spread through the wings, and everyone falls silent as Miss Jenn begins her curtain speech. It’s unusual for a group of such high energy people to be so still, so quiet, and you soak up every moment of it. This is your favorite part - or one of them, at least; it's those few fleeting minutes when everyone’s backstage in the wings, the opening of the show is seconds away and hurdling closer and closer with every breath, every heartbeat. This is one of those magical, transformative, fleeting times that can only really be described as in between. 

You never knew just how much you would miss this, the distinct and irreplaceable energy, the feeling of being in a theater. Tears spring to your eyes as it really hits you that you’re home, back where you’ve always needed to be. You close your eyes, taking deep, measured breaths to focus, to get into that headspace of being in character. Even with your eyes closed, you can feel it around you; the rich wood and cement mixing into different sections of the floor, the heavy curtains, the grid and catwalk and lights, all intangibly high and far away. It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful that you don’t know how your body is supposed to contain it. You know now that you could never leave, not really. Theatre will always be your home, and you know this feeling will only solidify more and more with time. You realize, too, that it’s a home that will always grow and change and evolve with you, because that’s in its eternal, fleeting nature. That’s the most beautiful part, you think.

You squeeze Seb’s hand in excitement and encouragement and every other good thing, a gesture that he returns. In spite of the silence and the stillness, you know that everyone is just as excited as you are. Ricky’s in the opposite wing, or else you’d be squeezing his hand right now too right now. You use this moment, this stillness that's growing and getting more charged with energy every second, to become laser focused on giving this performance everything you've got - on really getting your head in the game. 

Nini looks around, then over at Ricky - again. He’s been avoiding her this whole night, and she can’t stand it. She leans closer. 

“I need to talk to you. After the show.” someone shushes her, and she lowers her voice, continuing. “She’s been lying to you about everything. You don’t know everything about her, Ricky.” 

“Yes, I-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to feed into this. Not now. “I have to get into character.” He says, moving away from her. He tries to focus on the energy the cast is creating around him, on becoming Troy. He takes a breath, centering himself. 

“Without further ado, I am proud to present… East High’s High School Musical: the Musical!” Miss Jenn’s voice is drowned out by applause, and the music begins. 

The first few songs and scenes go smoothly; everyone is on time and remembering their cues, and the audience couldn’t be more engaged, applauding and laughing right when you want them to. During Jack Scott’s announcements after Darbus reveals what the winter musical is going to be, you leave to get ready for What I’ve Been Looking For. You pass by Ricky, who’s quick changing for Get’cha Head in the Game, and shoot him a big thumbs up.

“Great job!” you whisper enthusiastically, stomping your feet quietly in excitement.

“Thanks,” he smiles, beaming as he pulls on his jersey. He watches you scurry down the hall before getting nudged toward the stage right before his cue. He shakes his head, wondering why he let Nini get him so worked up before. Of course he knows you. He knows everything about you! There’s absolutely nothing on earth you could tell him that would throw him off, or scare him away from you. She’s probably just making something up to get in his head, to drive a wedge between you. That seems like something she would do lately.

“Let’s see some hustle! Move, move, move!” Coach Bolton calls from onstage, and Ricky jogs over to him, as ready as he'll ever be.

“Sorry I’m late, coach.”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he’s trying to stay in character and stay focused on the scene, Nini’s words are still echoing in the back of his mind, throwing him off a little. He catches his dad’s eye in the crowd as the music starts. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this proud, and it steadies Ricky. He takes in a breath, and begins to sing. Part way through the song, he notices a woman in the crowd who looks weirdly like his mom. He doesn’t miss a beat, making sure to look in his dad’s direction instead. That’s weird, he thinks, but it can’t be her. There’s no way she’d come all the way from Chicago for something like this. Just like what Nini said to him before the show, he won’t let that distract him from performing, and tries not to let that throw him off.

During the dance break, he gets hooked up to his harness, and his stomach erupts into excited butterflies as he slowly moves up. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd that turns into cheers as he hovers in front of the hoop, ball in hand. Up here, he’s not blinded by the stage lights, and he looks down at the crowd, able to see his dad’s face even better than before. He’s filled with such euphoria, he knows you’re right - nothing can beat this feeling. He feels more alive, more awake than he ever has, simultaneously enveloped by a deep sense of peace, of rightness that he doesn’t want to let go of. 

On the other side of the auditorium, someone moves, catching his eye. Some guy is making his way into his seat, presumably because he showed up late. He leans over to his date, kissing her and touching her leg. Nothing could have prepared Ricky for what he saw when he pulled away. Past the blinding stage lights, his stomach plummets back down to earth as he’s able to make out more faces in the audience - including hers. She’s here. She’s really here, and she brought that douchebag with her. She’s whispering something in that bastard’s ear, barely five rows away from his dad. They’re all over each other, talking close and kissing and smiling. 

It’s only when she points up at him that he snaps out of it. He realizes the pit has been waitin for his cue a beat or two longer than usual, and follows up quickly with it. He had dropped his basketball when he was up there, and he’s scrambling to make it through the rest of the number. He tries desperately to get back into character, to focus on the lyrics and choreography, to focus on the music instead of what he just saw in front of him, but he can’t shake what just happened, what he just saw. Even as he’s being pulled backstage to change into the costume for his next scene, it takes all his effort not to let that overwhelm him. He can’t crumble right now, not like this. There’s a whole cast and crew, all his friends, that are counting on him. He gets some water, tries to pull himself together. 

EJ looks for Ricky backstage, having a few minutes before their next scene. Even he has to admit he was impressed with Ricky’s performance back there. He looked so conflicted, so torn between basketball and singing. He even managed to make his distracted blocking and choreography look so organic EJ was worried he’d messed up for a second. He’s been giving him a hard time, butting heads on and off stage, but Ricky is really shining tonight. He’s committed, and EJ has to commend him for that. 

“Ricky,” he says, just loudly enough to get his attention. Ricky turns around. “I have to hand it to you; you’re doing great out there, man. You deserve all the applause you’re getting.” 

Ricky takes a breath, closing his water bottle.

“Thanks.” 

He stares into space to the ceiling on EJ’s right, gripping his water bottle until his knuckles have a white cast to them. EJ’s brow furrows. He actually seems a little out of it. 

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully. They’re not really close like that, but even EJ can see that he seems a little off. 

“I’m fine,” he says a little too fast. “I am totally fine. Because it’s opening night, and nothing’s going to ruin this.” 

Suddenly it makes sense. He knows exactly what Ricky’s going through. He sighs. 

“Look, everybody gets stage fright. Just take a deep breath, and use the music and your lines to stay grounded.” He claps Ricky on the shoulder supportively.

“Thanks,” he chokes out again. EJ leaves to fix his mic tape, and Ricky is once again exactly where he doesn’t want to be - alone with his thoughts. Even though EJ has no idea of the scope of issues Ricky’s dealing with right now, his advice might still work. Instead of waiting in his dressing room, he hovers in the wings, going over the chemistry class scene as it happens, waiting for the lights to go down so he can talk to you, or at least be near you. He’s so tempted to barge onstage and drag you away with him. Instead he listens closely to your dialog with Gabriella. Just hearing your voice is enough for him to hold on to for now.

The lights go down, and you exit into the wings. You’re surprised to find Ricky there - he usually comes up about half way through Jack Scott’s narration. One look at his face and you know something’s wrong. Before you can ask, he’s pulling you into a less busy area by the prop table. 

“She’s here.” He grips your arm, hand shaking. He doesn’t need to say anything else, you already have a full grasp on the gravity of the situation, the effect this is having on him. 

“Here?” you ask, needing to clarify, and he nods. “Are you okay?” you ask sincerely.

“I’m…” he struggles for an answer, “trying to be.” You take his hands in yours so gently he doesn’t even notice until your thumbs are stroking his skin reassuringly.

“Okay,” you say calmly, and he can see the gears turning, see you figuring out the perfect solution as you speak. “Why don’t you have some water, stay right here, and I’ll go get Miss Jenn, okay?” 

He nods, and you move quickly to Natalie, asking her if she knows where Miss Jenn is. She picks up her walkie talkie, asking Miss Jenn to come to the stage right wing. Jack’s narration scene wraps up and the crew changes the set to Darbus’s detention. You have seconds before you have to get out there, and you turn to Ricky, worried about him. 

“Are you going to be okay?” you ask in a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah.” he says, “I think so.” 

You see Miss Jenn walking toward the stage right wing as you’re about to head onstage.

“We’ll talk to her right after.” you tell him in a hushed, reassuring whisper. You give his hand one more squeeze before you find your places in the dark. Moments later, the lights are up, and the scene begins. In all the time you’ve spent acting, you’ve gotten very good at staying in character, compartmentalizing thoughts and worries about your personal life while you’re onstage. You find it a little more difficult to keep the disgust at Lynne Bowen’s blatant lack of basic respect, or even awareness for the consequences of her actions, buried in the back of your mind as the scene plays out. 

Sitting on the wooden flooring of the stage, warm under the bright lights, Ricky does exactly what he’s supposed to do - he uses the scene and dialog to stay grounded. He follows the dialog while doing his stage business, listening for his cues just like Miss Jenn thought him to do. If he stays in character, he doesn’t have to think about any offstage drama. As long as he doesn’t look out to that section of seats, as long as he can keep his eyes from being magnetically drawn there, he’s going to be fine. He stays in character, stays right there as Troy, clinging to his character like a life raft. If he can be Troy, he doesn’t have to worry about everything he’s going to have to deal with as Ricky for just a few more minutes. It's desperate and fleeting, but it's the only thing he can do right now. 

Soon, the lights are down, and you’re hustling toward the stage right wing, where you know Miss Jenn is waiting. He finds your hand in the dark, the sparkly pink sequins on your outfit unmistakable even in the darkness. He holds onto you desperately, until you’re both standing in front of Miss Jenn. She knows from one look that whatever is going on, it’s bad. 

“Um," Ricky starts, swallowing hard, "my mom is here…” he hates that his voice is already trembling so soon. It sounds more like a question than a statement, and his stomach twists at how foreign the word now feels in his mouth. My mom. The last time he called her that had been months ago when he told you and Miss Jenn what had happened. Ever since he’s only referred to her through pronouns and as briefly as possible, trying to disconnect the person she is from who she was supposed to be. Who he thought she was. The closest he’s gotten to addressing her has been vague statements; she didn’t call back, or I think that was her recipe, let’s find a different one. Actually saying it, actually calling her that makes his jaw feel stiff. 

“My god.” Miss Jenn says softly, unable to believe that she could have the audacity to show up unannounced after what she put Ricky through. Ricky hesitates, and she knows there’s more. She nods, waiting for him to continue. 

“And she, uh,” he swallows thickly, hating his throat for tightening up so much when he has to sing in a few minutes, “she brought her boyfriend…” Your eyes widen and Miss Jenn gasps. 

“They’re in the sixth row, they keep talking and kissing, and-” he cuts himself off, unable to continue. His hands are balled up, tight and shaking. 

“Okay. Ricky, sweetie, why don’t we talk about this somewhere a little more private.” You both guide him to the boys’ dressing room, and after making sure no one’s in there, she sits down facing him, and takes his hands in hers. 

“From the beginning, what happened?” 

He was barely able to get it out the first time, but now he can’t stop. Everything he’s been trying so hard to ignore and shove down for the last 20 minutes - and it’s felt way longer than 20 minutes - comes tumbling out. He doesn't think he could stop talking if he tried. He doesn’t even realize how loud he’s getting until Miss Jenn gently shushes him. 

“We don’t want the audience to hear us.” he nods, taking a breath for the first time since he started talking. You left a minute ago to check on how much time you have before the next scene, and reenter the dressing room now, looking stressed. 

“They’re almost done with Auditions.” you state. You need to go up there now, you and Seb have What I’ve Been Looking For soon, and you don’t want to miss your cue. 

“Go,” she says. Ricky nods, so you do, knowing that Miss Jenn has this under control, that she can help Ricky right now. Your footsteps recede, and Ricky turns back to Miss Jenn. 

“Ricky,” she starts calmly, “what she did was wildly inappropriate.” He already feels a little better, less crazy, and he waits for her to continue. 

“Showing up unannounced with a…" she chooses her words carefully, "date, was… probably the worst thing that could have happened tonight.” 

“Yeah,” he scoffs in agreement. She continues.

“You have every right to be as upset as you are. Whatever you need right now, just tell me, okay?” He nods. “I think what we should do is get your dad, and let him know what’s going on. I can try to have one of the ushers escort her out, but I’m sure the last thing you want tonight is even more drama.” 

“Got that right,” he breathes, relieved. 

“I’m going to talk to EJ and see if he can go on as Troy-” 

“What? No.” he protests. 

“Ricky-” 

“No, Miss Jenn- I have to play Troy. Please, I have to!” 

“It might be best for you-” 

He stands up suddenly. “What’s best for me is going out there; acting and singing, like we rehearsed -  like I’m supposed to! Please, you can’t…” 

“Okay,” she says, standing up and trying to calm him down a little. “Okay. If you think you can do it, you can go back out there.” 

He relaxes a little. 

“Thank you.” his voice breaks as he speaks, and she realizes how badly he needs this right now.

“Why don’t we revisit this at intermission, see how you’re feeling then? Just to check up on you.” she adds quickly. 

“Okay.” he agrees. She puts a hand on his arm. 

“I’m going to let EJ know to get ready, just in case you change your mind. We’ve got to be ready for anything, right?” She smiles gently, one he tries to return. 

“Right,” he says. A stagehand pokes his head into the room.

“Troy, we need you.”

“Be right there,” Miss Jenn says. She claps her hand over Ricky’s one more time. “Okay, Ricky, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go out there and sing a ballad with Gabriella that will make the audience swoon,” he smiles, “and I am going to do my best to get this situation resolved as quickly and discreetly as possible. If anything else happens, or you need anything, come tell me right away.”

“Okay.” he says, this time, with a note of determination in his voice. Miss Jenn pats him on the back, sending him off. He runs through the halls, making it just in time. Once he’s in the wings, she pulls out her phone to text Mike, and fill him in on everything that’s going on. He enters on Gabriella’s cue, and Miss Jenn pauses, watching him deliver his lines. All the distress, all the pain melts away as he steps into character.

It’s giving him a break from everything, she thinks, it has been the whole time. Theatre isn’t just a luxury or a passion for some people, it’s a means of survival. It hits her all at once, that in staying here, in facing the challenges and struggles that came from directing this show, she’s helping Ricky through one of the hardest things he’ll ever go through. She’s become the person she needed when she was his age; with only one parent, feeling completely lost at sea. Her chest squeezes, and she watches them sing, their voices sending a chill through her. 

Backstage, in the few dark moments of the set change for Cellular Fusion, Nina somehow manages to corner you. 

“What did you do to him?” she demands, and you know she’s referring to Ricky, who exited to the other wing. You stare at her, aghast. You lean in close, lowering your voice, desperately holding on to your professionalism. 

“We have to go onstage, literally right now. I am not doing this with you right now.” 

“Huh,” she scoffs with a fake smile, “you’re one to talk.” You have approximately two seconds to look at her, baffled by everything she’s saying, before you have to go on. You enter, and hit your mark. At the cue, you and Seb begin to harmonize. Right as you do, your phone - tucked away in the wings - silently begins to buzz. Your phone lights up with a text from your mom, informing you that Gina’s flight has finally landed, and they’ll be at the theater any minute. 

You run off stage as Cellular Fusion wraps up, and Miss Jenn and Carlos are trying to figure out what to do about the Taylor dance break coming up. Kourtney has been doing great so far, but she doesn’t think she can handle choreography that complicated with so little time to rehearse.

“I could tell the pit to cut that section…” Carlos offers. You check your phone and your eyes light up, looking at the doorway. 

“Uh,” you start with a smile, “I don’t think that will be an issue…”

Miss Jenn, Carlos, and Kourtney look over at Gina, smiling timidly. 

“Oh, thank god,” Miss Jenn chokes out. She turns to Kourtney, then Gina. “You, go out there before you miss your cue. And you, quick change into something more 2006 before the dance break.”

They both agree, and a stagehand runs over with something for Gina to change into, guiding her to the dressing rooms. 

“Is he doing any better?” you ask Miss Jenn before you go on. You don’t have much time, but you need to know if he’s okay.

“A little,” she says, “I think.” You both know it’s better than nothing, and you’re just hoping whatever he’s doing keeps working. 

Stick to the Status Quo couldn’t be going any better. There’s so much happening, so much organized chaos, that he forgets about everything for a few wonderful minutes. There’s no time to think about that when he’s dancing on tables, begging his classmates not to sacrifice their individuality so they can fit in. It only gets better when you and Seb enter toward the end of the number. You look so genuinely pissed off that people are breaking free from the boxes they’ve been put in, and your voices sound perfect harmonizing together, reverberating through the auditorium.

He tries in vain to stop Zeke from giving you a cake, watching with bated breath as it smashes into your face. He turns away, just like he’s supposed to, but his eyes accidentally land on the one place in the audience he shouldn't be looking at.  His stomach plummets. Has she been on her phone this whole time? After running from everything this whole night, it finally gets the best of him. He can’t stand it any longer, running into the wings as you let out an ear shattering scream, loud enough to finally make her look up.

“Someone… is going… to pay for this!” you yell furiously, before the lights go down. The curtain draws to a close as applause thunders through the building. The lights in the house go up for intermission, and you hear a slow rise of chatter as people mill about and make conversation as you exit the stage. You grab a makeup wipe a stagehand has ready, thanking them as Natalie calls out that intermission is starting, and you have 20 minutes to places for act two.

“Thank you 20,” you call out distractedly, searching for Ricky. You run to the back, wiping the rest of the whipped cream off your face, and check the boys dressing room to see if he’s in there. He is, sitting in there by himself, seeming worse than before. One look at his face and you know something else happened.

“She was on her fucking phone the whole time!” he states in disbelief, “Like…” The words dry up as he holds a pillow in his lap in a death grip. 

“Oh my god…” you say, shaking your head. He’s not doing good, clearly. No one would be in his position. He pulls you in for a hug as soon as you’re close enough, one you reciprocate. He holds onto you tight, feeling just a little more stable as soon as you’re in his arms. Surrounded by your familiar grasp, it’s just a little easier to breathe, to think clearly. Unfortunately, it also means he has a much clearer grasp on everything that’s happened tonight and how it’s affecting him, how he feels about it. His dad is right behind you, and he lets go of you long enough to stand up and greet him. His dad pulls him into a hug, patting his back. 

“I’m so sorry, kid. I had no idea she was going to pull something like this.” Mike’s voice wavers, and when Ricky doesn’t answer, you know it’s because he’s choked up. Miss Jenn enters a moment later, walking over to Ricky and Mike. 

“The both of them have been removed from the premises.” She states. 

“Thank you,” Mike says earnestly. 

“Oh, it was nothing a little faked parking violation couldn't take care of,"  she says, earning a small smile from Mike. She turns to Ricky, continuing. “I filled you dad in on what’s been going on, too.” 

“Maybe we should just go home,” Mike offers, knowing he probably won’t want to. 

“No,” he protests, “I can do act two, I want to. Plus, if we leave now, she’ll know where we are and she’s going to ambush us again, and-” 

“The one place you’re guaranteed not to run into her is here at the theater.” you finish quietly. 

“Yeah,” Ricky agrees, motioning to you. Mike considers, weighing his options. Since she’s gone, if Ricky thinks he can handle it, he doesn’t see why he can’t do the second half of the show - especially since he seems to want to so badly. Maybe now isn’t the time to take that away from him, even if he means well.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But if anything happens, if you change your mind at all-”

“You’re the first to know.” Ricky agrees quickly. 

“I want you to stay plugged in with me, okay?” Mike says, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Text me when you’re not onstage, let me know how you’re doing.” Ricky agrees again. Miss Jenn looks between them. 

“Alright. Well, in that case, Ricky, you should get changed for act two.” She says with a tentative smile. He nods. 

“Thank you. Thank you guys.” he says sincerely to his dad and Miss Jenn. Before you leave, you catch his eye.

“I’m going to refill my water, then I’ll be back here, okay?” 

“Sounds good." He says, "Hurry back,” he adds quickly, giving you that sweet look with those big puppy dog eyes, and it makes your chest squeeze. 

“Absolutely.” you agree. 

You barely leave the dressing room before you're met with Nina. She barges forward and stands in front of you, arms crossed, and you realize she's waiting for you to move out of the way so she can get into the boys' dressing room. You don't budge. 

“I need to talk to Ricky. I heard what happened, and I'm the only one who can convince him to go on for the second act, and I don’t need you-” 

“Wow,” you begin, cutting her off, once again amazed at her audacity, “now is really not a good time. Don’t go in there and stir things up.”  

She looks you up and down, letting out an indignant scoff. 

“Don’t act like you know him like that. I’ve known him since we were in kindergarten, I know him better than anyone.” 

You take in a deep breath, trying so hard to stay patient. 

“Sure. You know him better than anyone.” you say, in a pacifying tone, “So you should know the last thing he needs is more pressure on him when he’s in the middle of a family crisis, right?” The question is rhetorical, and you continue, patience with her finally starting to run thin. “If you actually care about him, then for the sake of his well being you’ll leave him alone and let him get through this. Now is really not the time, Nina, read the goddamn room!” 

The sentence is finished with an aggravated, humorless laugh. Your priorities right now are Ricky, and getting through opening night. You need to help him process some of the shit that's been happening tonight, make sure he’s okay, so he can perform like he wants to. The last thing he needs is Nina barging in there and telling him he’s letting the cast down, or that he’s not serious about theatre, and that he should have quit after auditions - all of which you’ve heard more times than you can count over the duration of rehearsals, even up to a few days ago. 

You’ve tried so hard to be patient with her, but dear god, she’s really starting to get on your last nerve - nevermind the fact that you have a special type of hatred for the kind of people like Nina, who shit on people that are still learning about something they have more experience in; like telling someone they’re not serious about theatre because it’s their first show, for example.

“Do not fuck with him right now.” you state, rolling your eyes at her shocked expression.

You push past her, walking over to the water fountain. She watches you walk away, mouth hanging open, and lets out an indignant scoff. You swear to god, if one more thing goes wrong tonight, if one more person tries you, you’re going to absolutely lose it. You take a few deep breaths as you fill up your bottle, trying to calm down and center yourself a little. Once you’re done, you start to walk back to the dressing rooms, but you’re stopped by a woman who is definitely not cast or crew. She sees you and approaches, seeming a little pissy. 

“I’m looking for Ricky Bowen?” she states. As she speaks, your stomach drops. 

You recognize her voice from when you heard it on the phone, and from the voicemail Ricky showed you over Thanksgiving. This is Lynne Bowen. As in, the Lynne Bowen. The one that left.  The same woman who’s made such a tactless and selfish decisions over and over that have ultimately caused her son to be on the verge of a breakdown just down the hall from where you’re standing right now. 

“You are not supposed to be back here.” you state, desperately trying to figure out how to handle this. You pull out your phone and text Miss Jenn, ‘code red, really need backup’.

“Can you just tell me where Ricky Bowen is? I’m his mother.” she says it in a way immediately expects sympathy from you, sympathy she doesn’t receive. You stare at her blankly, and she continues, much less kind than she’d been pretending to be. “I need to see my son, okay? Maybe when you’re a mother someday you’ll understand-”

You’re not sure what about her, about the way she’s talking to you specifically is the last straw for you, but your patience is already running so thin it’s practically transparent. Against your better judgment, you cut her off. 

“He does not want to see you. He doesn’t want to speak to you - or be anywhere near you right now, for the record - and you need to fucking respect that, okay?” you say decisively, offense written all over her face, “And you are really not allowed to be backstage if you’re not cast or crew, which you’re clearly not-” 

“You are way out of line, young lady!” she yells, “I don’t care if he doesn’t want to talk. I’ll talk to him if I want to; I’m his mother.”  She adjusts her purse, clearly expecting you to fold, to tell her where he is. You know you should keep your mouth shut, you know you should be diplomatic and patient and professional like you always are, you should wait for Miss Jenn to handle this, but you’ve spent the past three months watching Ricky suffer because of this woman and her choices. You can’t stay quiet when the woman who hurt him is right in front of you. 

“I think you lost the right to pull that shit when you walked out the door and chose not to be in his life!” you snap, a dangerous smile on your face. The stunned look on her face is better than anything you’ve ever seen. It’s clear no one has ever tried to take her down a peg until now. 

“How dare-” 

“You gave him a free pass to hate you forever, because you’re not the parent who stayed! You didn’t try-” 

Your words lose momentum as you find yourself suddenly looking at the wall to your right, your cheek stinging. The sound of her slapping you across the face echos across the walls for a moment before fading away, and you freeze, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from shock.

“Listen here you little slut,” she says, much more ferocious than before. All facades of a concerned mother have melted away. “You have no right to talk to me like that-” 

“What the fuck?!” 

You snap out of it, and she turns around at Ricky’s voice at the end of the hall.

“Ricky, my baby,” she starts, walking toward him, but she’s thrown off at how distant he seems toward her. “I’m sorry you had to see that, this girl is so-” 

“Don’t ever talk about her like that again.” His voice is stone cold as he brushes past her, analyzing your expression closely to see if you’re alright. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice shaky.

“I’m fine,” you say as calmly as possible, “are you okay?” 

He’s decidedly not, but he tries to pull himself together. 

“If you are, that’s all that matters.” Behind him, growing impatient, Lynne takes a step forward.

“Ricky,” she demands. He takes a breath, and leans closer to you. 

“You should change for act two.” You look between them, wishing there was something else you could do, some way that you could make this better. You agree, stopping before you leave for your dressing room. 

“Text me if you need anything.” you say seriously, and he agrees, understanding the subtext of your words. Text you if he needs backup, or if it gets to be too much, because you’re there for him. Lynne moves toward him again. 

“Can we talk?” she says with a domineering tone to her voice, and you both know it’s not a question. You want to object, but all he wants is to get her away from you. He nods, indicating you should go, and you do - albeit, very reluctantly. He turns back to her. 

“Yeah,” he says seriously, “I think we need to.” 

She grabs his arm to lead him down another stretch of hallway, but he shakes her off immediately, walking a few feet in front of her. 

“Ricky, are you alright?” she demands, once they’re relatively out of earshot. She crosses her arms. “I was so worried about you when you ran offstage like that.” 

“I’m surprised you noticed.” he murmurs. She either ignores him or doesn’t hear. Regardless, she continues. 

“Why did you leave? Is it stage fright? Because a lot of people are counting on you, honey. You made a commitment to this-” 

“You’re one to talk about commitment,” he mutters, voice low, but loud enough to be heard. His impulse control is not at all where it should be, especially with how she just talked to you, what she called you.

“I’m sorry?” Lynne demands. She’s not used to Ricky yelling at her. She’s always had a lot of influence over him. He used to do everything she said, he’s always been such a mama’s boy until now. 

“I mean, do you ever think about anyone besides yourself?” he snaps, “Did you even care that you ruined the only thing I’ve been able to count on in my life- I can never get this night back, Lynne. And now…” he trails off, trying so hard to regulate his emotions, even though he knows he’s out of control. He takes a shaky breath, trying with everything he has inside him to reign it back in a little. 

“...Why would you bring him to the show?” 

Lynne looks stunned at his question. 

“Wh-” she starts, “This is about Todd?”

“Why would you bring him here?” He demands, repeating himself.

“I…” she struggles for an answer, “wanted him to meet you.” she infuses as much guilt into her words as she can. He should feel bad for the way he’s speaking to her. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to throw you off.” 

It doesn’t work this time, and he refuses to back down, to fawn for her. He doesn’t buy it for a second.

“So you waited until I was suspended, mid air over a basketball hoop, for me to see you all… cozied up together? You didn’t think - not for one second - that might be just a little upsetting to me?!” 

“Ricky-”

“And what about dad, huh? How do you think he feels watching you feel each other up right in front of him?” tears brim in the corners of his eyes as everything he’s been suppressing all night, all these weeks and months finally breaks the surface. She lets out an indignant scoff and tries to say something, but he ignores her and keeps going. It’s an avalanche now, and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 

“He didn’t leave the couch for a week after you left!” he roars, remembering how hard it was to see his dad like that, to have to be the one to drag him out of it. 

“...I didn’t know that-”

“How could you?!” he laughs bitterly, "You weren't there!" He screams. He doesn't think it's ever felt better to say something than it does now. "You weren't there the whole time I was rehearsing, you weren't the one running lines and going over blocking, and teaching me how to listen for cues and do stage makeup and quick change! You weren't there for any of the work that went into this, and you just waltz in here with the newest guy you're screwing to your fucking son's musical like you've been here the whole time, but you havent!" He's never yelled at her like this, but a part of him thinks after how much she hurt him - and his dad - it's long overdue. "You don't get to enjoy this show, and you don't get to be around me, or dad, or anything we do because you walked out!"

"You are way out of line-" she starts, voice cracking. 

"No, you know what’s way out of line?" He demands, all too ready to throw her words back in her face. "Breaking my heart, breaking dad’s heart, then acting like everything is fine when it’s not!"

"You think I wanted to leave you?!" She screams back at him. 

"Yeah," he answers quickly, "I do, because you did! And you know what? I'm glad you left." He spits, watching the pain grow in her eyes, his words like venom. 

"All you do is hurt us." 

She blinks like she was just slapped. He takes a step forward, shaking, angry tears silently spilling from his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is low and dead serious. 

"Don't call me anymore."

Before she can say anything, he starts to walk away. She calls out to him, desperate to get the last word in, to make him know how much pain his words have caused her. 

"You are really hurting me, Ricky." She says, voice shaking as she cries, "you're breaking your mother's heart."

The sound of his mother crying like that because of something he said should have wrecked him, but he pushes away any last remaining scraps of guilt his rage hasn't burned away yet. He turns back to her, no love in his eyes, and laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, I guess it runs in the family. You know, the one thing I got from you is the ability to ruin any relationship I have, so thanks for that, mom." He spits, turning to leave. She takes a step forward. 

"Don’t you walk away from me-"

"Like mother like son, huh?" He barks. With that, he's gone. He doesn't stick around for any more of her manipulation or guilt tactics. He just really, really needs to see you right now.

[strawberri-animates]

HELLO!! (Intro, FaQ, etc.)

Hellos from me :> uhhh yeah so I decided ‘why not, imma go on tumblr’, so here I am.

HERE! INTRO CARD, GO

FAQ:: (This is all from my YT channel/questions I think y’all would ask heh)

Q: What do you use to draw? A: Procreate (for short animations and art), Capcut (for editing and tweening). I use an iPad (don’t expect me to know the version lol) and Apple Pencil.

Q: Do you have other platforms? A: YES! I have a YouTube (@Strawberri-Animates ), Wattpad (@StrawberriDoStuff ), and a Webtoon that I forgot the password too :< (will be making a new one SOMEDAY IDKKK). I do have other platforms that I don’t want to state here.

Q: Can I draw fanart of you/your AU characters A: HELLO?? YES OFCCC!!! Pls do, and if you do, tag me so I can see ittt!!

Q: Fav fandom ships? :> A: I am the wither husbands number one fan. Fight me. I also like Fwhimmy, Jausage (lilac husbands), and some others that I don’t remember rn. (Flower Husbands is dead. LET THEM GOOOO. fight me it’s overrated. /hj )

Q: Fav color?? A: RED. HELLO? RED IS AMAZING.

Q: Can I request art/fanfics from you? A: YES! Requests will always be open cuz I’m always lookin for ideas heh. Don’t get mad if I decline, ofc, but I do have the thingy where y’all can ask me questions n stuff, so u can request art/fanfics there!! (I prob won’t do fanfics AS much cuz idk)

Q: Can I use ur art in (x)? A: You can use my art in ur PFP, banner, or edits WITH CREDIT. CCs are welcome to repost/show off my art :D like ofc I’d be so frickin excited hah. DO NOT REPOST MY ART ANYWHERE (unless given perms)!! (Reblogs r okay :D )

-

Imma try post art n stuff here but idk I might forget this exists. Uhh yeah CYAAAAA (pls reblog my stuff I beg of u lmao)

[ian-loves-fanfiction]

Well

I finally finished I See You, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish

Slight spoily warning!

It is 1:14 in the morning as I write this (editing about a day later) and I have my first day of my senior year of high school tomorrow, but I just had to get all of my thoughts out while they were fresh.

I have never, never hyperfixated on a fanfic so hard. I've never read 400k+ words of a single fic in under a week. Somehow I managed to do that and have time to draw fanart (something I'm pretty sure I've only done once before for a fic, actually) and do my irl life shit.

How, you may ask? By continuously staying up into the wee hours of the morning :D (like 4-6am type shit, don't recommend it even if I think it was personally worth it).

I think I was so hyperfixated on the fic that I honestly didn't absorb the emotions like I should have? I felt things, surprise, excitement, a Sense of Impending Doom (/hj), but I don't think I really felt them.

I was probably a little more dissociated while reading than I usually am lol. I was so absorbed that some things barely registered. I am 100% going to have to re-read everything.

At one point I worried the fic wouldn't have a happy ending. Doesn't have the "angst with a happy ending" tag afaik and it got much worse before it got better. Saw a comment on one of the end notes and was reassured thankfully TvT. I'm very happy everyone is ok.

Love how the after ending note basically boiled down to "everyone is fine and Felix finally got some sleep" lol.

This fic was just. So good. Riley is such a dynamic character, so awesome and so cool. I really want to headcanon them as autistic (some of their behaviors just. They just. It's hard to explain, but if you're autistic too I bet you probably felt it, just a lil. They got the vibes /hj) but I know some authors can be kinda iffy about people headcanoning their OCs (which I get).

It was really cool to see an honest to goodness nonbinary character, a full character and not a self insert or y/n (no shade, I love y/n stories too). It was just cool to see a complete OC, and I love that it was all platonic, even if Sundrop did catch a little bit of feelings.

Honestly I relate so much to that, as someone who gains and loses crushes pretty fast. I'm happy it stayed platonic though and Sunny wasn't hurt or stuck pining or something silly. Plus his absolute embarrassment and mortification at his slip up was pretty funny. Might try to draw it, if I have any left over motivation (the bottom of this post sure is interesting hint hint).

Update as I'm editing this about a day later: I can't stop thinking about this fic. It was just so good! I already want to re-read it but I know I should give it at least a little time so I don't burn myself out. This fic was probably the best story I've ever read. Period. Even better than the published books I've read.

Honestly without spoiling any more than I already have, read it. If you like the DCA, read it. If you like cool nonbinary characters and great platonic relationships, read it. If you like a plot that sneaks up on you before hitting you in the feels like a truck, read. It. Do it. It's sososo worth it, I promise you.

If anyone has some good fics to read (completed preferred but actively updated ones work too) PLEASE FEED ME. Now that I'm done with ISYS I am desperate for more DCA fics. I've read so many and I n e e d m o r e.

Bonus fanart to celebrate my completion I guess(?), embarrassed Sun boy!

I guess I just really like drawing embarrassed boyos. Sorry if it looks weird, I've never drawn a pose like this before :P

Shira if you're reading this, thank you. Your fic was just fantastic. Also thank you for helping me get out of my art block! I had it for the whole month of ArtFight (sadge) but I'm so happy to have some motivation again. Thank you.