#and the idea of a schedule is that you'd stick to it. right??

[maxwellatoms]

They left me no choice.

The animation industry is an absolute trash fire right now, and TBH... I don't think it's going to recover. Not in a form I recognize, anyway.

I could go on all day about the self-hating monster that is the Animation Business, but I've said it all before. Right now, none of the major studios are making much of anything, and almost all of what they are making is "library content". I'm currently doing storyboard revisions alongside a number of other former producers and directors, and I'm lucky to have the work. Once all of the mismanagement and the mergers get sorted, though, there should be plenty of room for more mismanagement and mergers. And the A.I. Don't forget the A.I.

It seems that I either give myself over fully to the souring corporate teat in the hopes that I can pretend that I still live in a world where "the grind" matters. Or I take a risk and make one big push to do... something.

First up:

Billy & Mandy vs. The Entertainment Industry:

This is my interview/reality/documentary show on the making of The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy from stem to stern. I'll be talking to as many people as I can who worked on the show about all sorts of different parts of the process. We'll definitely get to voice actors, but the first segment is probably going to be about Billy & Mandy's pre-history and the Big Pick Weekend.

The Upward Expedition:

This is my pick for my indie show. I have a bible. I have a decade of ideas. Time to sit down and tell a story. I want to get some screen sharing going at some point. I'll definitely share artwork as well as the trials and tribulations of getting from There to Back Again.

I'd love to get a Discord server going and provide a place where people can talk about the stuff I'm making (and the entertainment industry in general). I still have enough Billy & Mandy swag left that I'm sure I'll factor that stuff in as well.

In the immediate future, the funding goes to securing a space to do the interviews and probably to banking money for voice actors. I'm still deciding on my update schedule, but it should start in earnest next week.

I'm excited. Pretty scared... but also excited.

More updates to come. Definitely let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see on the Patreon!

As always, thanks for sticking around!

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

clearly the only solution to the penpal au is you’re supposed to write to ghost but the entire task force hijacks the letters every once in a while. /hj /lh

Price also ends up doing that too once he realizes why the entire team becomes obsessed with writing letters

DUDE YES *smooches your brain*

Simon starts writing to you through a military penpal program Price had all of them in. Ofc, like the rat bastard he is, he drags his fuckin feet on it. Eventually, you manage to get him a little more willing to write back and it seems like he even looks forward to it. He's the first one to grab his letter from the container when they come. He claims it's to get it over with, but the other guys know better.

You'd think the other guys would be the ones more open to their penpals but NO. They managed to be paired with some of, who they call, the most boring people they could have met. Hell, even Price began to drag his feet after the 2nd letter back.

Simon seems to be the only one actually enjoying his exchanges, even if he tries to hide it. Johnny's the first one to get curious, wanting to know what the LT's got that's good enough to loosen the stick in his ass.

While Simon's out of the room, Johnny reads through the first couple letters Simon received. Your sweet words, stupid jokes, and genuine care are a stark contrast from the uninterested and short words he received from his penpal.

He stops writing to his penpal, not that they noticed/ cared, and grew the balls to write you one. He claimed his penpal dropped out, so they had to make do, not that you minded. And God, when you started to write back, he swore it was like he was a schoolboy all over again. Getting excited for the letters, heart racing as he reads your carefully written words, counting down the days till he gets another.

He gets ballsy one night and opens up to Gaz about what he did, not showing a single crumb of remorse. Tells him all about how sweet you are, how you show genuine care for his safety, even giving the idea of sending a care package. He could see that same thought process going through Kyle's mind, contemplating switching to you. He gave Kyle your address and told him to just come up with an excuse.

Now Kyle's a little smarter than Johnny, knowing that if Ghost finds out he's probably fucked. However, at the end of the day, he's a lonely man. He had this sweet thing like you just within reach and he's supposed to not take it? Yeah right.

He gave the same excuse Johnny did, claiming his penpal's schedule became too busy to write back, and just like that you had 3 soldiers wrapped around your finger. He sweet talked you, gave little puns here and there, really became like a lap cat. He wasn't as forward as Johnny and not as refrained as Simon. He gave you music recommendations when you say you like a certain genre, he gave you book recommendations, even sent you photos of him in front of a helicopter (you begged for it when he told you about him falling out).

Now, Simon isn't stupid. He isn't clueless. He noticed that the first couple letters went missing. Then he noticed Johnny being more eager to write. Same with Kyle. He noticed how they seemed to pull away from him when the topic was brought up. He's not a stupid man.

He might even be considered generous (don't say it to his face though, he'll take it as sarcasm). He knows the boys are talking to his penpal, but he'll be kind enough to share. His sweet lil thing. If you can keep up, that is. Your letters seem to boost morale and bring a small light that wasn't there before. They're all hard-working men, risking their lives to keep the world clean. They deserve this, don't they?

Even Price finds himself wanting in on it. If you can manage to bring Simon happiness (again, he won't admit it) and keep the other boys happy, surely you can take on one more. He sends you a letter, as their captain, and thanks you for what you've done. You're such a kind soul for giving these men some hope in their lives (laying it on thick, gotta keep em interested) and how much you've helped their performances.

They all write to you, their unofficial 141 penpal, and it works surprisingly well. The lines begin to blur a bit on being platonic and something else, but it'll be sorted out eventually. For now you're just theirs (Simon came around to it once he realized you had plenty of love to go around). You're the 141's, even if you don't fully understand what that means.

The first picture they send to you, around Christmas^ (I can't find the artist, please tag them if you know who it is)

[moonastro]

Characteristics of your fs that you'll adore

PAC reading

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post(as i would entirely appreciate it).

PILE 1-

❅ firstly you'll love how independent and confident they are.

❅ you'll love their loyalty- how they only have their eyes on you and no-one else.

❅ i see you liking how they talk out their feelings instead of being too embarrassed to say them and keeping them inside. you find that attractive.

❅ their hardworking nature will be something you like- how they are always down to earth.

❅ i see them having a strong protection instinct towards you- that may be something you'll like about them.

❅ i also see you seeing you two together for the rest of your life- so they may be someone who is the perfect fit for you.

EXTRA- they may become angry easily and may have random bursts of anger. Take it or leave it, this may be something that you'll dislike about them.

PILE 2-

❅ you will love how emotionally stable they are- how they can take a joke and are not too sensitive.

❅ their precision to words and how they deliver their speech will be something you'll like-they may not curse or may give you plenty words of affirmations.

❅ yeah, i see a lot of healthy words coming from them which will kind of heal you in a way or make you feel some typa way.

❅you may see them as a perfect partner so you may want to spend the rest of you life with them. (same with pile 1)

❅ you will also appreciate how flexible they are in terms of routine and daily schedules- you may like how they always have time for you and how they enjoy your company and vice versa.

PILE 3-

18+

check out pile 1 or 2 if you felt drawn to them in any way

❅ so, for you pile 3, i see you liking their sexual energy- you'll love how they perform the act and how they make you feel during it. this may be a spiritual thing between you two.

❅ you may enjoy how they understand you on a deeper level- they might please you a lot- take it as you may.

❅ yeah, you will appreciate their hand work lol. (take whatever resonates)

❅ you may also like how their mind works- like they may come up with the most unique ideas questions that may surprise you and will love that about them. you may like how they have an imaginative mind and how they don't limit themselves and are comfortable with sharing them with you.

PILE 4-

❅ JOY- lol the first thing that came out along with THE SUN jumping out right after. This person will definitely be a fun person. You'll adore how they make you laugh, how they play pranks, how they play around with you, their sense of humour etc. This may also mean that they may be good with kids, which you find that attractive and may want to have kids with them.

❅You may love their smile- love how positive their mindset is towards their goals or just how positive they are in general. like whenever something off putting comes up, they brush it off and say 'its fine' or 'its okay'.

❅ their hugs will be one of the many things that you'll enjoy getting from them- you will like how they will comfort you emotionally, physically and spiritually.

❅ you'll love their motivation that they will give you and how they will stick by you along the way of your ups and downs.

❅ they might like to dirty talk/text you which you'll like ha.

That's it!! ✵ Thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed it. ⛄ Don't be shy to interact with this post however you'd like. ✤

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

[zeroeightzeroone]

sick - han jisung

love collection

genre: fluff, comfort

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x han jisung (istp)

warnings: suggestive texts near the end

wc ~3.3k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

instead of being at work, you're curled up in bed during the middle of the day. sure, it would've been a great day off work if you didn't currently have a pounding headache, a sore throat and felt like overall shit. the universe just loved to work against you, blurring the line between your days off and sick days. unfortunately, this meant instead of taking the planned days off in a couple of weeks to spend time with your busy boyfriend, you would be sitting at work compensating for these damned sick days.

speaking of your boyfriend, jisung didn't think it was a good idea for you to be alone while sick, he wanted you to stay in bed and rest while he would be the one to run around and nurse you back to health. on the other hand, you didn't think it was a good idea for jisung to come over and risk getting sick himself. you didn't want to be the reason he cancelled his upcoming appearances due to your illness rubbing off onto him. it had taken you almost an hour this morning to convince jisung over the phone that you would be okay. while he tried to convince you that he could work around his schedule, do some work at home and reschedule the things he could to come and take care of you. thus, with the help of the other members (namely, chan and hyunjin), you reassured him that you'd be okay, convincing him the best decision was for him to stick to his schedule. 

if jisung couldn't be there with you physically, he made sure to be there as much as he could virtually. 

j.one<3: how are you feeling baby? did you eat?

j.one<3: did you take more medicine? how's your head?

your replies to jisung's messages are short due to the heaviness of your eyelids and the increased ache in your head from looking at the screen for too long. you send jisung a photo of yourself, a meek smile on your lips with a small finger heart poking out from under the blanket, shutting your phone off after hitting send. the device is then facedown right next to you on the bed. the hand that produced the finger heart moves to pull the blanket back up to your chin, engulfing your body except for your right leg that's peeking out from under the covers; too hot for your whole body to be under the blanket but too cold to not be under the blanket. you're nuzzling your face into the blanket as you're slightly adjusting your position on the bed. once you've found a more comfortable position, your heavy eyelids shut and you're slowly lulled to sleep.

almost half an hour away, your boyfriend is staring down at his phone with loving eyes. jisung thinks you look from your selfie: you are huddled under the blankets with a rosy sheen over your nose and cheeks, a small little smile on your lips and your hand peeking out to make a little heart. the concern hits him soon after due to the fact that you're sick and alone at home, nursing yourself back to health. if he was there he would be the one waking you up every eight hours to take another dosage of medicine, attempting to make you food that'll soothe your symptoms, jisung would be the one to put in the effort to ensure you got the optimal amount of rest whilst also given the essentials to nurse you back to health. 

the cherry on top came with how you took care of him the last time he’d fallen ill. granted, the timing was coincidental as the days off you scheduled prior lined up with when he had gotten sick, allowing you to be by his side as you nursed him to better health. even though jisung knew that the last time was purely due to coincidence, that if you did have work you also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to take care of him the way you did, also needing to focus on work and your own schedules before focusing on your sick boyfriend. despite all the realistic factors, it still bummed jisung out that he couldn't be there to take care of you. 

with a pout on his lips, jisung pulls the sleeves of his black hoodie over his hands, sulking into the chair. there’s a couple knocks on the door before he hears it creek open. he knows who it is without turning around, the noises are enough of an identifier. the seven other members had gone for a coffee run, a well-needed break after hours of being in the studio. jisung, on the other hand, opted to stay inside and instead asked them to bring him something back. 

hyunjin walks up behind jisung, placing the shorter boy’s drink on the recording desk, right next to his open notebook.

“thanks,” jisung smiles, picking up his drink and taking a sip. 

chan takes a seat next to jisung on the other rolling chair, “how’s y/n?”

“yeah, how’s she doing?” hyunjin chirps, moving to the couch next to changbin.

turning in his chair, facing the rest of the members, jisung replies, "she seems to be better."

jisung pulls his phone out of his pocket, opens the messaging app and shows the boys the messages. they all scan over the messages quickly, an amused smile dancing over their lips at the photo of you huddled under your blankets and giving a heart. naturally, minho and hyunjin’s eyes drift to the top of the screen, their smiles changing into mischievous smirks. hyunjin is nudging changbin and whispers something to him, to which the older boy laughs. minho has also spread the word about what him and hyunjin are finding so funny to seungmin, felix and jeongin. 

chan’s head is angled as he looks over the members, wondering what’s come over them.

“what?” jisung says, placing his phone on the desk.

“you’re so cute,” minho coos.

“so sappy,” hyunjin giggles.

changbin is giggling next to him. jeongin is making kissing noises whilst felix and seungmin are smiling widely.

“what? what are you talking about?” chan chimes in, changbin leans over to whisper to chan.

“hey! i wanna know too!” jisung exclaims.

chan looks back at jisung’s phone on the desk for confirmation, now he’s giggling.

“what’s so funny about my phone?” jisung snatches the device and turns it off. 

at that, there’s a chorus of coos and sing-songy tones going, “j’s one and onlyyy!’

jisung’s cheeks flush in embarrassment as he listens to his band members tease him about his sickeningly sweet love for you. the embarrassment subsides quickly as he laughs, shaking his head with a smile.

"you done?" he quips, looking around the room.

they all nod, but the mischievous smiles on their lips don’t falter.

jisung sighs, “i’m never gonna live this down am i?”

they all shake their heads.

“j’s one and only,” hyunjin sings.

"get into the booth or i'm making you re-record thousands of times,” jisung’s words come with a stern finger pointed at hyunjin.

with a salute, hyunjin makes his way into the recording booth. adjusting the stand, microphones and any other equipment located to help the process move smoother. 

spinning around in the chair as he warns, "that goes for all of you."

chan leans over and pinches jisung’s cheek, “you’re so cute.”

swatting chan's hand away, jisung notices that hyunjin is still setting up, causing his thoughts to jump back to you. jisung couldn't come and take care of you, but that didn't mean he couldn't send anything to your house to help with your sickness. mentally patting himself on the back, a smile makes its way onto his lips. the caramel-haired boy quickly picks up his phone and his smile only gets bigger as he taps away on it.

jisung: [photo attachment] you look like rudolph let me know when you’re awake love

once he feels his plan is set, his phone is back down and his arm extends to press on the red button.

"alright, hwang," jisung's voice echos into the booth, hyunjin looking at him from inside, "you better blow me away."

hyunjin flashes a thumbs up to jisung.

…

you wake up a couple of minutes after your phone buzzes next to you. taking this as a sign to sit up and stretch out your limbs, at the sight of your ‘take medication’ reminder. s satisfied hum leaves your lips as the tension washes away. with a deep breath, you haul yourself out of bed and onto your fluffy, socks-clad feet, making your way into the living room. 

your efforts to get up out of bed are rewarded when your butt hits the couch, and your body melts into the cushions. you take this opportunity to reply to jisung’s messages from a while ago, giggling at the photo he sent where his black hoodie is pulled up over his head as he puckers his lips toward the camera. the photo immediately being saved in your camera roll right before your eyes roll at his reindeer comparison.

you: are you saying i'm a reindeer??? how rude i am awake yes

j.one<3: reindeers are cute great, answer your door when i text you later

"is he coming over?" you wonder to yourself.

you: why 

j.one<3: why what

you: why am i answering my door when you text later if i see you outside my door i won't open it

j.one<3: damn love you too baby good thing i have a key then? but just trust meee

you're still suspicious of what jisung is implying by his messages, but instead of prying further, you react to his message with a thumbs up. pushing yourself off the couch and into the kitchen, your thoughts plagued with wondering what your boyfriend is planning: is he coming over? he knows i could get him sick though? 

you're so lost in your own thoughts that you're snapped back into reality when the water spills over the cup and onto your hand. retracting your hand gripping the cup quickly from the fridge and looking down, your head cocks to the side in confusion; when did i get a cup and start getting water…? your mind and heart were too busy daydreaming that your body moved on autopilot, grabbing the medicine bottle and water whilst you were occupied. maybe you got so lost in your own mind, that your body forgot what it was doing too; hence the water spillage.

now that your mind, body and heart are back to reality, you're sighing in reluctance at the puddles of water on the floor. pouting your lips and fake crying as you look for the mop.

"i blame han jisung for this," you grumble under your breath.

trudging back into the kitchen with the mop this time, you're cleaning up the spillage quickly before popping a sick pill and downing it with water. grabbing a granola bar, you opt out of placing the cup into the sink, deciding to use the same cup to limit the dishes, so now it sits on the table next to the pill bottle. before you know it, you're sunk back into the couch, knees up to your chest as your eyes look over to the television.

you’re met with the youtube home screen of your account, greeted with the ‘watch it again’ section that contains fancams of jisung and stray kids' performances among many other things. whenever you'd be watching on your account and a fan cam of his popped up under 'watch it again', jisung would immediately read out the title, turn to you and ask, "how'd i do?". thus leading to you gushing over your boyfriend's skills to your boyfriend himself, as he tries to hide his flushed cheeks and the smile he can't seem to bite back. 

you select one of his fan cams, grabbing your phone to text him.

you: [photo attachment] damn look at who’s on my screen my bf through a screen looking fine as hell

jisung can tell you’re feeling a lot better from your playful texts along with the fact the photo is set in your living room instead of your room. 

j.one<3: i did look amazing that day

you: come over with that outfit one day

j.one<3: right now? sure ;)

you: shouldn’t you be producing

j.one<3: i could be producing something else if someone wasn’t sick

jisung’s reply has your jaw dropping and shaking your head. you react to his message with a thumbs down.

you: you think you’re hilarious don’t you?

j.one<;3: of course baby that’s why you love me ill be back, j.one is needed

you roll your eyes, a smile making its way to your lips at your boyfriend’s cheeky attitude. before placing your phone down next to you, you’re shooting your roommate a quick text, letting her know you’re feeling better and to not worry, for her to focus on her work trip instead. 

with a drawn-out sigh, you’re relaxing on the couch once again, bringing the granola bar up to your mouth and taking small bites. too lazy to choose what to watch, you let youtube autoplay whatever the algorithm wants you to watch. who knows how many minutes pass until you feel your head start to lightly ache, your eyes fluttering closed as your whole body slumps impossibly further into the couch.

“a couple minutes of shut-eye won’t hurt?”

with your granola bar wrapper sitting next to you on the couch, your arms crossed over your chest and legs extended so your feet rest on the table, your eyes close listening to the audio of the videos playing on the screen across from you. 

…

knock, knock, knock…

confused, you’re stirred awake by someone pounding at your front door. for a moment, you’re wondering if you’re so sick you’ve started hallucinating as you make no moves to get up and answer the door.

knockknockknock

as the knocking becomes more urgent, you push yourself up onto your feet and walk towards the door. you lean up on the tips of your toes to peek through the hole, and you find yourself looking at a familiar face. you take a step back, unlock the door, and turn the knob to pry it open.

“manager park,” you bow to the man wearing a mask who bows in response, “uhm… jisung isn’t here, he’s in the studio with the boys. he hasn’t been here for a bit since i’m sick—maybe you’re aware due to the mask but… what brings you here?”

he chuckles at your rambling, “i know jisung isn’t here, he’s the one who had me come here.”

you part your lips and blink mindlessly towards jisung's manager, only to notice the bags at his feet as he leans down slowly. he picks up the bags and nods towards your apartment, leaving you puzzled as to why jisung had sent him. however, your body acts on its own and you step aside to let the man in. standing motionless at the door, you watch manager park discard his shoes, walk into the kitchen, and disappear from your sight. he later reemerges without the bags and walks out the front door.

turning to you, he bows once again, “get well soon.”

manager park walks down the hallway towards the elevators, leaving you standing there stunned. as he rounds a corner, you snap out of your daze and hurry to lock the front door. confused, you find yourself in the kitchen where you spot two bags on the counter. the bags are of utmost importance to jisung, so important his manager has brought them to you.

jisung. 

you must have slept through his texts, you rush out to grab your phone and walk back into the kitchen.

j.one<3: open the door babe

j.one<3: hellooooo

j.one<3: its not me at your door  its safe to answer it  baby

you: what’s so important you had your manager come to my apartment?

j.one<3: omg you opened the door! open the bags!

you: ...han jisung

j.one<3: i swear you’ll love it baby

placing your phone down next to the bags, you reach out to the first bag, slowly undoing the knot. the moment the knot is untangled, the delicious smell of galbitang floods your nostrils, your lips parting in surprise and excitement as you remove the contents of the bag.

galbitang, rice, two oranges and your favourite brand of sweets. the sweets come along with a bright yellow sticky note, jisung’s writing scribbled onto the paper.

‘some things to help you feel better and other things for when you feel better!’

as you hold the bright yellow paper in your hands, you feel your heart skip a beat in disbelief. you stick the note onto the back of your phone and make a mental note to store it somewhere safe later. you move the empty bag off the table and drag the next one towards you, noticing the difference in weight. as you reveal the contents of the bag, your eyes scan over another yellow sticky note. this time you can't help but smile, overwhelmed with emotion at the sight.

‘it’ll feel like i’m with you :)’

…

j’s one and only: han jisung ur gonna make me cry

j’s one and only: omg baby i love you but you didn’t need to do all this for me tell manager park thank you from me!

j’s one and only: [photo attachments] thank you so much baby, god i appreciate you so so sooo much

while they’ve finished recording one song, the second one is far from done as chan and changbin are sitting at the desk, instructing seungmin inside the recording booth. the other members are sprawled around throughout the recording studio, all slumped onto the couch with tired expressions but jisung is staring at the photos you sent to him, a huge, goofy smile plastered on his face. 

sitting next to him, jisung is gently nudged by jeongin who captures the older one’s attention, “can i borrow your hood— where’s your hoodie?”

felix and jeongin are now scanning over jisung, wondering how stressed and out of it they were to imagine jisung coming into work with his black hoodie on. hyunjin and minho peek over from the other couch, taking note of jisung’s sudden outfit change, the black hoodie missing as the boy is clad in an oversized white shirt.

“you came to work in a hoodie, right?” hyunjin asks, jisung nods. 

the boys are riled up with confusion, wondering when jisung removed his hoodie and where it went and if there was a culprit. seven pairs of eyes lurking around the studio to find the black hoodie, one pair of eyes watching them look around. when they asked seungmin if maybe jisung left it inside the recording booth, the boy shook his head and replied that there was nothing in there. their curiosity is put to rest when jisung turns his phone around to show them his screen; it’s the photos you sent him a couple of minutes ago. 

in the first one, you’re smiling widely into the camera, your eyes are still clearly tired as your nose is tinted pink but you can see the happiness in your eyes. the second one is a mirror selfie, you’re flashing a peace sign and showing off your outfit; your fluffy socks, plaid pyjama pants and jisung’s oversized black hoodie. 

[the-dixon-effect]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: dear fic writers, consider this a public service announcement. DO NOT schedule a week of fic writing that coincides with a camping trip, it is hell!!!!

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: Y/N suffers from chronic pain in her feet, but hates to feel vulnerable around others so constantly overworks herself. perhaps a certain archer could be the right kind of medicine... | requested from this ask by @justalexheree :) guys i really did my research for this one so i hope you enjoy ^.^

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of chronic foot pain ig?? lil' time jump

It must be late by now, you thought. You were hesitant to look up to check the position of the sun for fear of getting distracted. You were crouched down, working out in the allotment around the front of the prison. The farm was a brilliant idea, you decided, despite the high amount of labour that was necessary to feed the residents of the prison-turned-camp. God knows you needed the food. Perhaps if the members of your community were aware of your condition, you wouldn't be forced to work out here all day, practically sweating your skin off in the Georgia sun. It didn't matter anyway, 'cause you couldn't let that happen.

So here you were, digging up soil and planting seeds 'til the sun disappeared behind the trees. It was somewhat enjoyable, you convinced yourself, of course you had your thoughts and daydreams to entertain yourself, and back in your old life you would have never found yourself spending so much time outdoors. Even so, a mundane office job might have arguably been a little better for your body. You constantly found yourself having to distract yourself from the persistent ache in your feet, maybe some company would do you good, you thought.

"Hey, we're all eatin' inside, ya can prolly finish up now," you heard the familiar voice of the crossbow-wielding man from several metres away. You knew you needed to stop, but there was still work to be done. If only there was enough food in the first place, then maybe you would let yourself resign to the dining area. Save it for those who needed it, you thought.

"Alright, I'll be inside in a second," That was a lie. It's not like the rest of the group would notice your absence, you figured. You better just stay out here a little longer, making sure the crops were tended to until it was dark. Then maybe you'd get some rest. For now, you didn't need to eat. Truthfully, your feet were killing you and it felt like you could keel over at any second. Get over yourself, you said, over and over in your mind, these people need feeding.

You remembered the look the archer gave you when he called you inside, observing how you were the only person left out in the field. You turned to check if he had left and, to your surprise, he was still stood watching, hands buried in his pockets as he looked straight ahead and met your eyes.

"C'mon," he shouted across the distance between the two of you. You couldn't really say no to him, except he left you wondering why he was so eager for you to join him. You put down your equipment and split from whatever idle job you had yourself occupied with. Something you did appreciate about the humble farmer's life was the reasonable tan you had acquired, which was on display in your little denim shorts as you jogged up to meet him. A part of you wished Daryl would notice.

"Ya' alrigh'? Yer limpin'," he asked, meanwhile you were contemplating on the fact that this might be the most words you'd ever heard the archer speak, to your face anyway. Your lack of association with the man didn't stop you from admiring from afar, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Been a long day."

"I bet," he replied, walking side-by-side with you up to the building entrance. You thought it was sweet how he paid attention to you and noticed something like that. Maybe one day you'd open up about your condition, when it felt right.

3 MONTHS LATER

You looked around the room, searching for Daryl's eyes. Today, more than ever, you needed to be with him. After months of breaking down his thick walls, it was safe to say that he'd become one of the most important people in your life. Your feet were hurting like hell today, and the only thing that would make you feel better right now was his presence.

He'd been out on a solo run, which you'd begged Rick to let you join him, ultimately to your disappointment. So you spent your day as you always did, out in the pasture, tending to the crops. After a while you headed back inside in hopes of finding Daryl, perched at one of the rusty tables, waiting for you. To your dismay, you couldn't find him anywhere.

You approached Rick with a worried look shaping your features, "Where's Daryl? Is he back yet?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Nah, he's not back yet," sensing your anxiety, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, "Y/N, he's gonna be fine. Anyway, he's scheduled to be back in... about an hour."

So you waited. And waited. It felt like the longest 60 minutes of your life, busying yourself in your cell by reading a book that Carol recommended, not absorbing a single word. By the time you decided that there was nothing else you could do to distract yourself, you headed downstairs and made idle chatter with one of the prison newcomers, Karen.

"I hear your boyfriend Daryl's coming back from a run today," she said.

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," you said with a slight giggle.

"Oh, right! Gosh, it's just that you two are so close, I just figured- you know what, nevermind, ignore me," she said with a chuckle.

You smiled and looked at the floor, and tried to silence your anxious thoughts about whether something might have happened to him, if he's hurt, or anything. At this, the double-doors swung open and in walked the man you'd been waiting for for the last 48 hours. You approached him, suppressing the relief and excitement you felt just from seeing him walk through those doors. His eyes lit up at your welcoming smile, and maybe, just maybe, he would be inclined to embrace you right here if the prison foyer wasn't so crowded.

For now, he had other things on his mind that he needed to clear with you. Just like you, he spent the last 48 hours worrying more about your safety than he did his own. He regretted not being able to stay with you, or at least bring you along with him. He was the only person who knew about your condition and how badly you were affected by it, which meant he felt an immense responsibility to take care of you and offer you acts of service. Not to mention, you were also the only person who Daryl felt totally comfortable around, comfortable enough to share some of his childhood trauma and emotion with. You liked to think the two of you had a special bond, but despite your healthy friendship, you couldn't help wanting more. Either way, all he wanted right now was to be with you and to not have to deal with anyone else in this damn place.

Maggie shot you a mischievous look from across the room as you tugged on the archer's sleeve. You rolled you eyes at her following Daryl up the steel staircase and entered his cell. You sat down next to him on the mattress and he copied you by rolling his head back against the cool brick wall. You sighed in contentment, still in somewhat pain in your feet.

"So, how'd it go?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Was fine. Are ya' alrigh'?" you noticed how he changed the subject, sensing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a little relentless, you know," you felt a little guilt for immediately beginning to talk about yourself, even when you knew you needed his comfort. His closeness was good enough for you.

"Mm, I know. Ya' gotta stop overworkin' yerself, ya know," he drawled. His pretty eyes were staring deeply at you now.

"Uh-huh. It's just, it's kind of relentless, you know. Like nothing I do makes it better. There's no distraction that works," it felt undeniably good to talk to someone about it, someone who understands. Someone who doesn't subject you to the same stereotypes or think that you're making it up. He wrapped an arm around you and you instinctively rested your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, like the outdoors, mixed with the distinct notes of Marlboro cigarettes and stormy weather. This was a pretty good distraction, you thought.

"Hey, I'll always make a run into some pharmacy to get ya yer meds, or anythin' like tha'," he spoke softly with his lips resting on the top of your head, occasionally brushing against your silky hair. "Jus' tell me what ya' need." It was this. You needed this.

“I just need you.”

[acepodcastweek]

2023 Ace Week Fiction Podcast Fan Event (October 22nd-28th)

October 22nd to October 28th 2023 is ace week, and fiction podcasts are a great medium to be asexual.

Prompts

Sunday, 22nd October

Ace of Spades | Realisation/Acceptance

Monday, 23rd October

Cake & Garlic Bread | Invisible/Seen

Tuesday, 24th October

Ace of Diamonds | Effort/Rest

Wednesday, 25th October

Space Ace | Past/Future

Thursday, 26th October

Ace of Hearts | Isolation/Connection

Friday, 27th October

Dragons | Divergence/Diversity

Saturday, 28th October

Ace of Clubs | Mourning/Celebration

More information on each list is available here.

How does this work?

I've made up two lists of daily prompts, above, to get you started. Using them is encouraged but entirely optional, and you may do as many or as few as you'd like. One per day is great, and one in one week also great. You can pick and mix, stick with one list, do both, or even just do your own thing entirely.

You can start working on them any time from right now up until during ace week, but if you're comfortable sharing them be sure to schedule or save them for the date and either @ me here at @acepodcastweek, or tag them with #ace podcast week, which I'll check daily up until November 1st.

You can join in by:

Creating art of any kind: visual, baking, music, etc

Writing fanfic

Doing poetry

Media analysis

Making recommendation lists

Holding polls

Highlighting creators

Sharing headcanons

And whatever else might strike your fancy.

Whether you want to dote on (or, let's be real, torment) your favourite ace characters, help other people find new shows they'd like, show the creative teams behind these works your appreciation, flex your brain creatively, just think it'd be interesting, or any other one of a myriad reasons, you're welcome to give it a go.

Image descriptions for visual art are not mandatory, but are strongly encouraged.

Creator Featurettes

Podcast creators and contributors who are acespec or have acespec characters are very welcome to put together little features of their characters and/or projects in advance of (or during) the week, which I'll reblog here.

Resources

There are many acespec characters in audio fiction, and I've attached two lists below to get you started.

Questions & Queries

If you have any questions, concerns, ideas, or anything else in that realm, get in touch with me here. You can drop them in the comments, my DMs, or send me an ask. Is there something I could be doing better? Let me know!

If you run any kind of community group or are a creator and would like to run a podcast ace week event, go for it. I sure don't have exclusive rights, and would welcome the company. If you let me know, I'll even promo it.

A list of asked and anticipated questions can be found here, and will be updated as additional questions are asked.

[yournecessaryevil]

❄️ Home For Christmas ❄️

🖤RICKY OLSON X READER ONESHOT🖤

It's the holiday season, and you were determined to spend it with your boyfriend. The only problem? He may not be able to come home for the holidays...

• fluff; slight angst; language; smut

"What do you mean, you can't make it home this year?"

You were currently on a videocall with your boyfriend, and he had just sprung some rather unpleasant news on you. He wouldn't be able to make it home in time for Christmas, because of scheduling conflicts with touring. He was the guitarist for Motionless in White, a band that had only grown in popularity since their start in 2006.

Which meant that he was on the road more often than you'd like, causing him to miss out on several holidays, such as Christmas and Halloween. You'd been fortunate enough to have him home for the holiday season last year, but it seems you wouldn't be quite as lucky this year.

You stared at the screen in front of you, sticking out your bottom lip in a slight pout.

"But it's Christmas!" you protested.

A sigh echoed from the guitarist, a frown marring his perfect features. "I know, babygirl. We've been trying to get a flight out of here for the past week, but everything has been booked solid," he said softly, trying to appease you.

You didn't doubt him for a second; every year, it seemed that everybody and their brother and fifth cousin was trying to fly home for the holidays. The airports were always a mess, and the roads an even bigger disaster on top of it all.

"Hey. Look at me, sweetheart," Ricky's voice gently caught your attention, and you let out a wistful sigh, meeting his gaze.

"I promise, we're trying our hardest to get home this year. Chris has been making calls all day, trying to get us any possible flight out of here. It's just a little harder this time around, everyone seems to have the same idea about going home," Ricky explained.

You nodded, your gaze shifting to rest behind the screen, on the decorated living room. You'd spent the entire past week making the area look as festive as possible, in the hopes that Ricky would come home for Christmas and be able to see it.

But now, the tree sitting there with all its lights and baubles only served to remind you that you'd be spending the holiday season alone this year.

"Why can't I just drive out there and come get you guys?" you asked, the idea suddenly springing to the forefront of your mind.

"Too far of a drive, mama!" you heard Vinny call from the background.

Despite your current downshift in mood, you couldn't help the tiny smile that threatened to break out across your face.

"He's right, you know. That's way too far of a drive, we can't ask you to do that. Just... stay there, stay warm, and please trust that we're doing everything we can, okay, babygirl?" Ricky reassured you.

You gave a reluctant nod, your heart slowly sinking. He and his bandmates could make all the promises they wanted, but you knew how the crowds were at the airports. There was no way they'd be able to come home this year, no way that he'd be able to come home.

"I gotta go, my battery's dying, but I promise I'll see you as soon as I can, yeah?" the guitarist continued. Another sigh slipped free from your lips as you nodded again, exchanging goodbyes with him before ending the videocall.

This year was going to completely suck without him, all you'd wanted for Christmas was to have him home with you...

"Did she believe you?"

Chris's voice sounded from somewhere behind Ricky, and he nodded, turning to look over his shoulder at his bandmate and closest friend.

"Yeah, she believed me. I hate lying to her, though. She looked so fucking miserable, poor baby," he answered.

Chris raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his smirk.

"True, but at this point, it's worth it. You and I both know the minute you get home, she's gonna fucking jump you. So, you know, win win," he said with a wink.

Ricky laughed, nodding in agreement.

His bandmate was right, Y/N never failed to greet him with wholehearted enthusiasm whenever he came home from tour. It was one of the many things he absolutely loved about her, the sheer passion she had for the things and people she cared about most.

It did kind of suck having to lie to her though. And he secretly hated how easily she'd believed him, too.

There she was, sitting alone at home, probably expecting to spend the holidays all by herself.

And here he was, stuck in a hotel room about an hour's drive away from home, waiting for his bandmates to finish packing up the last of their things.

And Y/N didn't even know...

"Dude, don't beat yourself up over it. She's gonna be so happy to see you, it won't even matter," Vinny suddenly spoke up, giving him a heavy-handed pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, exactly. It's Christmas. No fucking pity parties allowed," Chris chimed in, grinning at his friend.

Ricky stuck his tongue out at the vocalist, flipping him the middle finger. "Easy for you guys to say. I've never had to lie to her like this before," he retorted.

Before his bandmates could respond, the door to the hotel room opened, both Justin and Ryan walking in.

"That's the last of it, time to get the fuck outta here," the bassist announced.

Finally-!

He had to fight hard against the sudden overwhelming wave of excitement burning its way through his veins.

"Yeah, time to go home," he agreed, trying to sound as casual as possible.

This was it, he'd be spending Christmas at home with his babygirl this year...

You glanced at the screen of your phone again, noting how late it was getting.

'9:35', the little white numbers glared back up at you, as if taunting you.

This was it, there was no way they'd be home tonight. If they wanted to get home by Christmas Day, they'd all have to take a red-eye flight home. And the possibility of anything being available at this hour? Nonexistent.

You sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around you, lying back against the pillows on the couch. Tonight was going to be a long night, might as well put on a Christmas movie to cheer yourself up a little.

You stared at the screen as the opening credits began to roll, and somewhere at the halfway point of the movie, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier, your blinks getting longer, until eventually your eyes closed, sleep settling in. Ricky's face was the last thing you saw in your mind as you gave in to exhaustion...

"Babygirl...."

Ricky's voice sounded in your ear, a hint of amusement lingering there.

You groaned, arching your body up towards him, wanting to bask in the feeling of his fingertips skating across your skin.

A soft laugh echoed around you, Ricky's fingertips brushing lower, down towards your stomach, lower still.

"Come on, babygirl..." he murmured in encouragement, his scent surrounding you and leaving you in a breathless haze.

A strangled moan left the confines of your throat, as his fingertips slid lower, towards your aching core. "Please, please, please..." you begged him, arching up into his touch.

A smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth, and he shook his head at you.

"No, you need to wake up for me first, sweet baby," he answered, sounding amused.

Wait... wake up???

What-??

You awoke with a start, your heart thundering in your chest.

"Hey, shhh... it's alright, it's just me!" a familiar voice sounded, from your left.

Your eyes darted to your left, meeting the familiar blue ones of your boyfriend.

Ricky-!

He was here??

You stared in complete shock, earning a soft laugh from your boyfriend.

"Hi, babygirl..." he breathed, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the mouth.

It was at this point you fully awoke, finally registering that Ricky was, in fact, here and home with you.

You began kissing him back, your mouth moving urgently against his, tongue dancing along his, tasting and savoring every inch of him.

A low groan left his throat, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, hands moving to push the blanket out of the way, fingertips skating up beneath the hem of your shirt to brush along your lower belly.

"Mmm... fuck. Welcome home to you too, baby," Ricky groaned, pulling away to catch his breath. Your eyes met his, and you took notice of the way the pupils of his eyes had blown out so far, there was nearly nothing of the blue irises left.

"How did you get home so soon?" you whispered.

Ricky let out a breathless laugh, shrugging.

"We actually got in yesterday. But I wanted to surprise you this year. Chris was able to get us some time off for the rest of the holiday season, including New Year's. We leave again for the rest of our tour in February," he answered.

Wait... so when you'd called him-?

"So when I called earlier, you guys were already close to home?" you asked, Ricky answering you with a nod.

"Vin tried to get us to go home early, but Chris and the guys wanted us to wait. Those roads are a fucking mess," he said, shaking his head.

So his bandmates had been in on it, too...

You really wanted to be mad, but the hold that Ricky had on you right now was making you feel completely different. And after all, he was home now, wasn't he?

So you chose to forget about it, instead arching up into his touch, much like you had in your dream. And Ricky responded exactly as he had then too, laughing softly as his hand moved lower, his fingertips slipping beneath the lace waistband of your thong.

The minute his fingertips made contact with your aching core, a groan slipped free from your throat, and you arched further up into his touch, pushing yourself against his fingers.

"Fuck... someone definitely missed me, didn't they? You're so wet for me, babygirl," Ricky breathed, his fingertips moving to circle your clit. Another soft groan fell from your lips, followed by a soft whine as Ricky withdrew his fingers from you.

He laughed, reaching down to take you into his arms, but you shook your head at him.

"Nooo, I want you now. Here," you protested, staring up at him with a pleading look in your eyes.

His own blue ones widened, and he cast a dubious glance down at the couch.

"You... you want me to fuck you right here? On our couch? Really?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

You nodded, kicking the blanket away from you as your hands worked to remove your shirt and thong, until you lay naked before him.

Ricky stared down at you like a blind man seeing the sun for the very first time, running a hand through his hair, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

"Fucking- Y/N, holy fuck-!" he spoke, his breath leaving him in a soft hiss.

You bit back a smirk, letting your legs gently fall open, giving him a perfect view of everything.

"Jesus fucking Christ... Merry Christmas to me, right?" Ricky groaned, hurrying to remove as much clothing as possible. He leaned down, kissing you rather forcefully on the mouth, his teeth tugging harshly on your bottom lip.

"Mm, by the way... I love... what you've done... with our place," he spoke in between kisses, his lips curving up into a smile against your own. You grinned back, shrugging as you leaned back to look up at him.

"I wanted you to have a happy place to come home to," you whispered. Ricky bent down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Oh, sweetheart. It's already a happy place, as long as you're here..." he whispered back, before kissing you again.

There was that same urgency from before, like one of you was worried the other would disappear if time didn't slow down for you both. God, you could never get enough of him, of the way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he knew each and every one of your most sensitive places.

He knew just what made you tick, he always had, from the minute you two had first met.

"Open for me, babygirl," came his frantically whispered plea.

You let your legs fall open for him once more, all too easy and willing for whatever he'd give you, or take from you. His praise came in a hushed groan, his fingers once again finding your slick arousal and circling it around your sensitive clit.

You let a soft moan slip free, as your head fell back against the pillows, giving Ricky full access to your throat. He left a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, pausing to leave a dark purple lovebite there, before moving on to the spot at the base of your throat, sucking your sweet spot between his teeth.

"Ricky, please..." you begged him on a breathless whine, arching your body up towards him, your hips meeting his. An answering groan rose unbidden from his throat, and his fingers slipped further down, down towards where you wanted him most, where you needed him.

He pushed in three fingers at once, not giving you any time to adjust to the feeling, before he began to fuck you with those perfect inked fingers of his. A stab of arousal burned its way through you when he found that sweet spot, and you couldn't hold back your moans.

"Mm, fuck, that's my good girl," Ricky breathed, curling his fingers against that most sensitive of spots, making your body tremble beneath him. "Please, please, please..." you begged him, your words nearly an exact echo of the ones you'd spoken in your earlier dream.

"Beg for it, I know you want it, babygirl. You're so wet, fuck, I don't even need to get you ready for me, for this dick," he groaned, withdrawing his fingers to circle your clit again.

You stared up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes. "Please, Ricky, please... I need it, I need you," you whined. He shook his head at you, his blue eyes meeting yours, the irises darkening with his lust.

"Again," he hissed, sitting back on his heels to stare down at you, one of his hands finding its way up to your throat, squeezing softly.

Oh, he wanted to play that game, did he?

That was fine, you could play it too.

You stared up at him, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"Harder," you told him.

Something in that one word caught him off guard for the briefest of moments, one of his brows raising, before his eyes narrowed.

His grip on your throat tightened as he leaned down, his other hand still working circles around your sensitive little clit, bringing you closer and closer to that edge.

"Beg."

He spoke the word rather harshly, his dominant side coming out to play.

This was it, what you loved about the way you two fucked.

It wasn't just sex with you two, it was more than that. It was an entire fucking experience.

You swallowed hard, looking up at him with those big doe eyes.

Just one more last little detail to push him...

"Please... Sir. I need it, I need your dick, I want it so bad," you begged him, watching his face to see his reaction.

You could almost see the breath leave him, you certainly heard it; an exhaled hiss was your only warning before he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in only the tip, teasing you like you'd teased him.

"Do you think you've earned it, babygirl?"

Fuck, he was just so hot-!

You nodded, all thoughts of teasing lost to the wayside as you stared earnestly up at him, silently begging him to give you what you so desperately wanted.

"Words, Y/N. How bad do you want it? You gonna be a good girl for me?" he continued.

"Please yes, Ricky, fuck, I need it!" you whined, your hips rising subtly to meet his. The grip on your throat tightened in warning, but he relented, finally pushing in until he was buried as deeply within you as he could get.

The two of you groaned in unison, and you could swear you saw his eyes roll back for a minute, before he leaned forward, bracing himself against the couch with his free hand as he began to set a brutal pace within you.

At this rate, you wouldn't be able to speak coherently, let alone think. You'd be so sore tomorrow morning, but honestly? Worth it.

You matched him thrust for thrust, up until he let go of your throat to push against the backs of your knees, tucking them against your chest and keeping them pinned there as he fucked you.

Holy shit- it was such a deeper angle-!

His name left your mouth in soft gasps, until it wasn't even his name anymore, just a series of incoherent ramblings and gasping pants.

He bent down to kiss you on the mouth as he fucked into you, his eyes clouded over with hazy lust.

"Fuck, that's my good girl. My dumb, pretty little baby, all stupid and fucked out for me," he muttered, throwing in more dirty words of praise as he kissed you.

It wasn't long before you could feel that familiar tightening knot in your lower belly, that slowly growing ache between your thighs.

You were close, you knew he could feel it, too.

He could feel it in the way you were clenching tightly around his dick; he'd be lying if he said it wasn't the hottest fucking thing he'd ever experienced.

A softly hissed exhale of breath sounded in the space between you two, the smell of sex and Ricky's signature cologne hanging heavy in the air, enveloping you both.

"Not yet, babygirl!" he ground out between clenched teeth, his grip on the backs of your thighs tightening, his fingers digging in.

"Mm- please! I need... I need-" you couldn't even get out an intelligent response.

You were pretty sure you looked as blissfully dumb and fucked out as you felt, in that moment.

Ricky knew it too; a smirk flashed across his features before it vanished.

"Aw, you need it? Is that it, babygirl? You need me to let you cum?" he teased you, mock empathy in his voice.

You nodded frantically, trying hard to match the pace he'd set, and failing miserably.

Your thighs were shaking, you had to cum so bad, you needed it. It wasn't even that, either. No, you needed him to cum, to finish inside of you, it's what you wanted the most.

Almost like he could sense it, Ricky smirked again, raising a brow at you.

"My poor baby. You want me to cum in you, is that it? Want me to breed you, fill you up and fuck a baby into that pretty little tummy of yours? Is that what you want?" he asked, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. You nodded again, sticking out your bottom lip in a pout.

Ricky laughed, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth again, gently sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it go.

"Cum for me, babygirl."

And all too easily, you did exactly that, practically leaping over that cliff's edge, falling into a delicious downward spiral, sinking down beneath the depths of those dark waves of pleasure, almost losing yourself in all of it.

Ricky's name left your mouth in a sharp cry, your back arching off the couch, your aching pussy clenching down tight around his dick, frantically trying to cling to the last of your high.

And exactly as promised, he came as hard as you did, his grip on your thighs becoming almost painfully tight before he loosened his hold. Your name slipped from his mouth in a strangled shout as he spilled his seed into you, giving you everything he had until there was nothing left to give.

You could feel it leaking down your thighs, combined with the slick, sweat drenched scent of arousal hanging heavy in the space around the two of you.

But you didn't care.

Because in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the fact that Ricky was here, at home with you, in your arms and here to stay for the holidays.

He gently slid free from you, shifting positions so he was lying beside you, with you tucked safely in his arms.

His breath left him in soft pants, his eyes alight with a fire like you hadn't seen in a while.

"Fuck... that was-" he couldn't even finish his sentence, but you knew. You always did.

"Yeah. Merry fucking Christmas, right?" you teased him breathlessly, earning a round of laughter from you both.

When the laughter had ceased, Ricky nodded, pulling you closer into him.

"Exactly. Merry fucking Christmas, babygirl," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

This right here, this safest of havens, the most sacred of places, was where you wanted to be, where you needed to be.

Because here in Ricky's arms, everything else just seemed so small and insignificant, any troubles easily a problem for tomorrow, not tonight.

You nestled closer into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

"I'm so glad you're home," you mumbled sleepily, letting out a yawn.

Another kiss, this one pressed to the top of your head, before you heard his response.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

As you lay there in his arms, sleep slowly approaching, you couldn't help the errant thought that snuck its way into your brain.

He'd definitely have to come home for Christmas more often... a lot more often...

After all, there was nothing else quite like being home for the holidays, right?

🎃 TAGLIST: @synthetic-wasp-570 @tearfallpixie @annateagan @nixwolfe @motionlessindoubt @motionlessomens @veroxbarnes @bangoversequence @nerdraging4point0 @circle-with-me @thesazzb @bobateaandchocolatepudding @talialovesmiw

[ivanzplaid]

Hello! I know you’re probably almost done with requests but I’m BEGGING for a vance hopper x crybaby!reader? Where they’re in an established relationship and poor reader is always getting dragged around with vance everywhere he goes (ofc reader doesn’t mind) and he’s surprisingly patient and reassuring to reader.

thats alright!! never can have too many requests, and im starting to fr like writing for vance! but oh my god i love this idea, he likes to have them in his presence, its just nice to have you by his side, but whenever he gets violent or into mischief, the reader is also by his side, and hes just happy to have them there, and even shows them some tricks or where he hides from the cops or kids hes messed with🙏🙏 all while being a good caring bf🫶

Vance Hopper x Gn Reader!!

adorable adorable i love it, as alwayyysss requests are open, the grabber, vance, anybody youd like i can do👍

Warnings: fluff!

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You found yourself on a Saturday night in a ditch, Vance sticking to your left, and the sound of police shouting to your right, a lovely night you two have had. Your boyfriend snickered as the shouting became distant, putting his mouth to your shoulder to silence himself. You could feel his smile, it tickled your neck, radiating from him to you, causing your lips to slowly move up.

Vances hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in for a quick kiss before holding your hand.

"Fucking idiots, we totally juked them!"

His voice was still a whisper, he knew to be quiet, or have the both of you face the consequences. His golden hair tickled your face. As much fun as it was, you didn't thrive under pressure, you'd always lived a tranquil life, never having one run in with the law. You loved Vance to the fullest extent, but as your head ached more, the sides of your eyes stung with tears, you couldn't help the force that weighed on you. With soft crying came a runny nose, and it caught up quickly, turning the silence of your ditch to a soft sob. Vance wasn't deaf, he caught on hastily. Cupping your cheek in one hand and your hand in another, rubbing circles into the back of your palm, he reassured you of the situation.

"Hey hey! It's alright Sweets, they're going away, see?"

Your cries were silent, but Vance paid more attention to you than pinball, he cherished you & the time spent together. He wanted you around him, he loved physical contact and quality time, it was his love language, yet your lifestyles contrasted majorly, and he also took that into consideration.

He put a hand to the nape of your neck, gently stroking your hairs as he pulled your head to his, eyes locking while your arms intertwined. The both of you stayed like that, calming you down and having your breathing pattern match his. Time dragged on, and he just held you in his arms, securing you from what you feared outside, head resting on your shoulder, nose stuffed in your neck just to have your scent on him for a little longer. Sirens soon left, car tires scratching the road as the cops muttered about losing both of you again. Minutes had passed and you were still being held gently, but you could tell Vance was getting antsy, as much as he loved you, sitting still while the adrenaline ran fresh was never a possible task, he needed to get out and move, do anything to burn the energy he made with you.

Grabbing your arms, he hauled you up, embracing you before his smile flashed you, talking about the pizza parlor a block away, or the arcade so you could wind down & he could still burn off energy and spend time with you. Your hands found each other as he tugged you along, intertwining. His laughter filled the forest, bringing life into the dull Autumn day.

"I promise, next time it'll just be a movie night, somethin' easy for your heart, then we'll be back on schedule."

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this was a short one, had a busy day today, but i have 1 more vance request to fill, so submit more if you like them :)

have a lovely day, and if you havent look at my other vance fic in my masterlist🙏🙏🙏🫶

[idjitlili]

Billy hargrove x female reader.

Bulltrue.

Summary:  working at the video store along side Steve and Robin had its 'disadvantages'.

Word count: 3677

Warnings: Billy lives au and I cannot remember if the video store was next to the arcade, anyways. Language, undressing. Sex references.

A/n: Please, I am having intense feelings about Billy, and I have not wrote fanfiction in months, I apologise. I ended a bad relationship a couple of weeks ago, which distracted me from writing. ( Why ikr reading fanfiction is so much better.) BUT IM HERE and I love men with long hair. Pls michael and billy are the same.

NOT MY IMAGE

Deciding to work in the video store for the summer seemed like a good idea at the time, and maybe it was, except cleaning up the vomit and other human discharge.  Judging random peoples movie taste? Who wouldn't want to do that? 

You had moved to Hawkins that year from a long way away, you knew no one. Well, until you had met Robin and with meeting her you met Steve, then after meeting Steve the rest came along.  You had met Robin when your mum had sent you to mall to pick up some things with the promise that you could get food. And you had chosen to get Ice-cream,  and with that Robin had served you and questioned you as you did stick like a sore thumb.

Everyday you had to work, you'd walk, the same route, the same routine ( depending on your schedule but it was most the same).  Everyday you did the same loud blue camaro would drive past, each time almost making your ears explode. At first you did not trust the speed at which the driver was going at, but as time went on the car had slowed down. You never got a good look at the driver but he did get one each day he saw you.

Billy  would not admit to himself he had taken a liking to you ( even with never interacting with you), no, he was simply checking you out.  

"Hey, Y/n." Steve had greeted you with the most monotone voice, a gust of air reaching you from where he had walked past you as you restocked the horror section.  Putting down the VHs your legs had cracked from where you had been kneeling for so long.

"Oh, hi. You okay?"   His eyes turning back to you after he'd put his bag in the staffroom he had huffed resting his hands on his hips his eyebrows scrunched.

" Absolutely brilliant, sweets."

"Right, well, you've got bird poop in your hair." Eyes widening Steves hands immediately reached his hair with panic he had began to yell a large range of curses, until he  saw the smirk plastered upon your face.

" Wow, not funny."  With that he walked off still messing with his hair. Reaching ovver to pick up the last VHS,  Lost boys. The sound of a pair of feet had reaching your ears just as you saw the two legs behind you through legs.  Legs in tight blue jeans. You hadn't heard the bell ring.   Quickly standing to full height, spinning on the balls of feet to face the customer. 

Ghosting over your body with his bright eyes,long dark lashes, smirk building. He wanted you to see him checking you out.  His lips twisted, soft lips, like perfect lips, kissable like River phoenix's. Golden curls of hair sitting on his shoulders,  tank cling to him and jeans tighter than david bowies leggings.

" ooh,hi , s-sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"   Cheeks hot, as you stubbled over your words, being jumped out of your skin by a random hot individual was understandble reason to get flustered. Especially when he had just laughed. Reaching up to hold your rname tag inching closer as he lent over to read it.

"Don't apologise...Y/n. Ah. Yes, actually you can." Losing eye contact his eyes scanned the room,like to see what actually this store was, to make up an excuse to talk longer. Though you didn't think that. His eye locking back onto you.

"I'd like to rent a movie, do you have any suggestions for me, Gorgeous." Cheeks heating up again at the strangers playful tone, you looked down at the video in your hands.

" Well, without knowing amything about you just going off your fashion sense, I feel like Lost boys would be a good choice for you." His lips dropping from his charming smile into a o shape, as he became flustered by your comment. No one, no one, speaks to Billy Hargrove like that. But Billy for once was not angered, instead he saw the smirk plastered on the face he had been thinking about for weeks and laughed.

" Oh, do tell me what's that's supposed to mean."  His rough hands brushed against yours as he took the video tape from your hands to inspect the video.

" I mean, firstly you have a mullet so, and UI was deciding is he going for Rob Lowe in st Elms fire or Michael Emerson from Lost boys. And from your charming behaviour yes you act more like Rob but Lost boys is Such a better movie. And I mean no offence both are very handsome."  He raised an eyebrow at you looking away from the video.

"Are you calling me handsome, Y/n?"  Billy wasn't the type to tease with no intention of getting laid, since the accident at starcourt, he has changed. Not that he would admit that either.  Almost dying changes your perspective on things,  how you feel about people, how you feel about yourself,  what you haven't achieved, and things you're not proud of. For Billy he wanted someone to love, yes he knows he cares for Max now but that isn't the same as romantic love. Since he saw you he wanted you, he didn't know why, so here he was.

"Uhhhh...yeah. You do look like you're dressed up as Michael."  

"Bullshit." 

"Bulltrue."

The teasing between the pair of you had caught the attention of your coworker, Steve had not heard you act this way with anyone previously and recognised the voice of the guy you were speaking to. He dreaded the outcome of his walk toward you.

"Y/n, there you are- oh." Steve had walked towards you, quite loudly, locking eyes with Billy . Taking in his posture, Billy's arm rested on the shelf next to you, the gap between you very small for strangers, the suggestive eyebrow raise from Billy angered Steve for your sake. He didn't want you to get used by some man whore.

"Harrington."

"Billy."

The tension in the air between the two, was obvious to you, and probably literally anyone, they were death staring each other. Sure Billy had changed, and Steve did know Billie saved Eleven but still he did not trust him. Plus, how many times has he been beaten up by him. Too many.  There wqs silence between the three of you for a good minute before Steve patted his hand on your shoulder. It was clear Steve would be talking to you after Billy had left. 

"So, it seems you and Steve have a great relationship... " Billy had chuckled lightly.

" You could say that."

" Well, Billy what do you think about renting Lost boys?"

"I'll rent it, just so I can come back and speak to you."  You simply smiled at Billy, knowing that he was the type of guy to flirt with anything or anyone. ( Poor coconut. Yes, that one story about guy fucking cocunut, Billy probably did something like that.)

Ringing him up at the counter, he sent you one last wink, before turning to slowly walk towards the door giving youa great view of his ass in his tight jeans.

" Bye, sweetheart,  see you soon. "  watching him as he eent through the glass doors turn his face to the right for a second , as to get another look at you. Smirking himself that you were still fixated on him.  Opening the drivers door of his camaro, he had sped off in seconds. Blue camaro, the car,  that you saw everyday. Deducing thst it was the same one as how many people drive a car like that in Hawkins? Not many.

Steve stood at the counter resting his back on it with his arms crossed, his lips turned downwards and slowly shaking his head.  Within the next hour ( broken up due to customers), he had explained everything there was to know about Billy Hargrove.

The things Stevehad told you about the 'Keg king' made you rethink your meeting of Billy. Had he just been sweet and flirty because you were 'fresh meat' another bitch to conquer. The way he apparently treated people like Steve presented insecurity in himself, like Billy was trying to tame a bull, the bull being the world. Maybe there was someone deeper going on in his head. Maybe, he had built this walls to protect himself from further hurt.

Though, what would you know you just convinced him to rent a movie.

The next time you had seen Billy was lesss than a week later, well,  one working day for you.  Didn't want to be charged a late fee, clearly. Steve was not working at that time, Robin was tasked with reshelving and you were stuck behind the counter. Which you didn't mind because you got to sit and read (or doodle)  other than the socal interaction you had to deal with it is great.

Placing your slushie back onto the counter , the water droplets falling to the surface, as you sneezed into your elbow for what felt like trillion sneezes. The patter of trainers walked towards you unknowingly, those feet which were normally booted. 

"Bless you."  With your eyes closed still you figured that was not Robins voice. Opening them you were faced with Billy leaning his forearm on counter , his lips twisted in a smile as he chewed quietly on the gum inbetween his lips. Sunglasses rested on the centre of his tank top, he was dressed in his lifeguard uniform, with his tight bright shorts highlighting his mighty sword.  Maybe, you should stop checking him out wuen he watching? Would that be impossible?

"Thank you." Sipping at your slushie again, the straw between your plump lips , Billy watching intently. 

" You're so welcome, babe." As you pulled away from the straw, Billy held his hand out for your drink. He looked like he needed it, his exposed body was glistening in the light that travelled through the windows, what moisturiser and oils did he use to look that good. Maybe, it was just sweat.   Before you could let go of the slushie his hand had latched onro the cup whilst you still held it and had taken a long sip from it.  Before slowly releasing his grip from you to fiddle with the Lost boys vhs tape on the counter.

Okay, admittedly you wouldn't allow some random person to drink your drink but his smile and his 'kurt cobain' ( great description you know) eyes with his long lashes fluttering at you made your heart beat unbearably fast.

"W-what did you think of the movie?"  Spluttering over you words to cover up your nerves due to the man in front of you piercing you with his eyes.

"Well, I can definitely understand how I look like Michael just ten times more attractive. Other than that, I loved it. You are very good at your job." He paused for a moment to caught his breathe before reaching up to push a strand of hair from your face.

" Though, Y/n, that does make me wonder about what else you can do." If your face was not on fire already it was now, the words dripped out of his soft lips like syrup.

"Uh.. , well, I can consume the rest of this slushie."   And before you could grab the slushie , Billy had it holding it away from you, urging you to reach and grab it.

" Can you?"  Huffing you sunk back into your chair , Billy just smirked from above you.

" I'm only teasing." Handing you back the slushie , and pushing the Vhs towards you.

"I need you to recommend me another movie, if you would."

You didn't see the Billy that Steve had described, other than the flirting but that was just in Billy's nature. He seemed sweet, and he seemed to take a liking to you. Sometimes multiple times a week Billy would come in ask yoj to recommend him a movie qnd then talk to you qbout it when he returned. Never, did he speak to any of your coworkers only to asl for you. 

Robin and Steve and sometimes the little ones would discuss Billy and you. Sometimes being everytime they saw you two interact. For four weeks , four weeks Billy had to entered the video store with the sole purpose of talking to you with the cover of renting of videos.

On one particular day you had been walking home with rain chucking down, hail stones , lightning, the works. Your clothing stuck to your body like sap, hair stuck to your face , not one inch of you was dry.  You wished you had left your walkman at home, no doubt it was ruined.

Normally you loved the rain, the smell, the droplets hitting your face , but today hadn't been the best day.  Both of your coworkers that were meant to work that evening after your shift had called in sick and no one could cover, so, you were stuck alone for over three hours.  Not exactly great since it is a lot to run a wh9le store by yourself. Especially when a lot of weirdos love to come in before closing.  You hoped Billy may of came in today, but he didn't oddly.

It had started to rain just as you got there for your shift and hadn't stopped, and even better no one could pick you up.  To say the least you figured 'oh today the day either I get hit by lightning or get murdered' .

Walking along the path holding up your hood speed walking as quick as you possibly could. The thunder so loud you didn't hear the purr of the camaro that pulled up beside you.  Rolling down his window, slowly following you as you walked away from the car Billy called for you.

"Y/n/n, Y/n. Y/n! " He had to shout loud,  very loud like his father, loud like when he would threaten others, he hated that he to shout like that especially at you. You thought you had been imagining hearing your name, but when you did look around you saw Billy in his car smiling at you sympathetically.  Turning on your feet you had walked over to his door , your hands leaning on thedoor as you bent down to talk to him. Already dripping into his car.

"Hey, Bil-"

"Get in the car."  Interrupting you , Billy gestured for you to get in, his tone warm not like he some maniac telling to get the fuck in the car or he'd skin your toes for hotdogs. You didn't argue even though you didn't want to get his car to get soaked. Sitting on the leather shutting the door of the car , pealing of your hoodie from your skin whilst Billy watched you do so.

" You shouldn't be walking in this weather."  That is all he said before he began to drive.

" I didn't have any other  choice, Billy."  Staring at the windscreen, the window wipers clearing it for barely a microsecond, barely could you see the road a head , it was almost dark. Turning to look at you briefly, Billy tclenched his hand on the steering wheel slightly, he felt bad, it was dark and he knew you hve walked back in conditions like this previously. He wanted to offer to drive you home but he felt like that was coming on too strong and kind of creepy.

"I can't see shit, is it alright if I pull over and see if this dies down a bit?" 

Thus, leaving you trapped in a car with Billy Hargroves his camaro, the car you had heard so much about. In the dark in the rain, with his cassette playing lightly in the background of the rain smacking against the car. Drenched and freezing, even with the heat on. Billy had turned to his body to face you, eyeing over your trembling body. 

"We've got to warm you up." Eyes widening snapping your face to look up to Billy, you realised this was a bad idea.

"Sorry, I meant I've got a blanket and dry clothes. I'm not trying to make a move."   Guessing he didn't want to get his hair wet he climbing over the console and sat in the back of the car.

"Thank you." Ushering you to come sit in the back, he held out his hand to help you across. Not before you took your shoes off to not get dirt all over his car. Smiling at you gently as you gripped his hand. Though he raised an eyebrow about your prvious actions. You managed to carefully get over the console into the seat next to Billy.

Pulling the duffle bag from the floor,Billy pulled out a shirt and a clean pair of socks before grabbing the plaid blanket which wad thrown over the back of the seat.  Passing you the clean clothes, he turned away from you.

" I'll leave more spare clothes in here for next time." Next time. Next time. What did that mean. He's just being nice surely. Pulling off your trousers and socks,  replacing them with the tube socks the material trapoing the little warmth in.

" Really, Billy, thank you. You didn't have to offer me a ride home or do any of this. I really appreciate it, thank you."  Billy watched the droplets of rain travel down the steamed up window, smiling to himself, not just because he has time alone with you. 

"Sweetheart,  there's no need to thank me, just didn't want some other guy picking up my girl." Pealing off your shirt about to put Billy's shirt on.

"My girl? Wow, where is she?" You should've put the shirt on before talking, especially teasing because clearly he thought you was dressed and turned to look at you only to see you shirtless. Eyes widening,  his face flushed pink, Billy had turned away ( not quickly, he got a good look).

"Hm, in my trunk."   Snorting at his comment you pulled the shirt over your head and wrapped the blanket around you shuffling over closer to Billy. Your thigh pressed against his, side by side , his warmth radiating from his body. Your hair dripping still, onto the blanket and Billys shirt. Legs bare riddled with goosebumps.

The rain still hitting the car with no sign of stopping. The windows all fully steamed up with the rainning hutting , nothing could be seen.  For a few minutes silence remained between the two of you.

Fiddling with the hem of Billy's old PE shirt, your mind drifted to how you were half dressed in the back seat of a car with Billy Hargrove. If Steve could see you now, can't say youd think he'd be impressed. Compared to what Steve had suggested Billy had not been anything like what you would've thought if you just went on with Steves opinion.  Maybe it was a red flag if a lot of people thought that way.  He was sweet to you, stopped in the rain with you, gave you clothes, came to see you at work just to talk to you ( with the excuse that he was just renting movies) and well stole your slushie.  You had grown fond of Billy, you hadn't realised until today when you didn't see him.

The presence of a rough hand being placed gently on your bare cold thigh had caused you to look up from the shirt to the hand on your thigh up to the blue eyes looking at you. Both of you knew that you would no doubt be suck here for a while.

"You know, this isn't a ploy to get in you pants. I know you've no doubt heard a lot about me."   Shuffling closer to Billy you waited watching him bite his lip slightly contemplating whether to say more.

"What I'm getting at is we don't know much about each other but I'd like to get know you."  Removing his hand from your thigh, gently brushed  your hair out of your face Billys arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"I'd like that too."    Sitting in the company of Billy Hargrove until the rain settled, just talking about nothing and everything. Time passing quickly , four hours had past before Billy had been able to drive you home.

  Sitting in front of your house still in Billys clothes shoes back on, your wet clothes sat on your lap.  Tying your hoodie around your waist as to cover yourself for when you'd have to walk to your house.

The thunder and lightning had stopped but the rain was still pouring. The street lights projecting orange light into the pathment , the droplets of rain illuminated by the light. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel briefly in thought, Billy turned to looked at you once with a small smile before jumping out the car , rushing to the passenger door. Pulling his leather jacket from his shoulders , his curls begining to be weighed by the rain,  opening the car door for you. Leaning over placing a foot on the drenched road before getting out of the car, closing the door behind you.

Billy held his jackekt over your head, both of you rushing to get to your house, pulling your keys out of your bag at the same time. Pushing  the door open, pulling Billy into your house by  his waist.

"So, want to stay over? I have Lost boys on tape."

[pumpkzsafeplace]

bear and babbles 🧸ྀི⋆˚✿˖°

welcome to the another episode of bear and babbles!! teheh! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა.

key code │ 🧸 - daddy │ 🍼 - pumpkin.

what is bear & babbles!

bear & babbles is a cute thing that we decided to create to help talk about agere in a safe environment! we will be answering questions (both me & daddy!) and answering some emails!!

i think it'll be fun to see both point of views too, from a little (and someone who struggles with mental health) + a caregiver whose been in the role for a while now.

today's topic: routines

routines are an important part of agere, whether you are a little trying to plan out the perfect time to regress or a caregiver learning how to take care of a little and their responsibilites for the first time, routines are indeed important! <3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

🍼 : see, i'm rather bias here when it comes to routines because i adore making & sticking by them because of my autism. i love planning out the perfect time to regress (even if it's only for 30 minutes), i've alwasy been good at keeping & doing those sorts of things (even without a cg).

but i know everybody is difficult & if you're new to agere, routines can be daunting (especially its all down to you). my biggest pieces of advice would be:

alarms : can help remind you when certain times are, such as the time to regress or to let you know that regression time is coming to an end soon & to work on getting yourself back up to big space.

back ups plans : are incredibly helpful, especially if you have a unpredictable schedule that can get interupted a lot. when i studied, i would encorporate a handful of different planned regression breaks, so that if for example i miss my chance at 5 oclock to regress, i still have a timeslot avaliable later.

rewards : are a must when you're first getting used to routines. the whole thing can be daunting, so by rewarding yourself for simple tasks such as (regressing on time, regressing for the whole time period, being brave and picking out things you'd like to do in adance) might help the scheduling be a little easier.

baby steps : is also incredibly important. go at your pace. if you want to only plan 2 things when you first start out, than do that. if you want to plan a whole routine down to the minutes, than do that too. only you know what works for your regression.

googling / using other sources : can help a lot too! especially when planning activites. sometimes you might not have a whole night to regress and you need something short to do. there will be lots of suggestions on tumblr, reddit etc that should give you some ideas.

knowing it's okay to mess up : is something i had to learn too. routines are made to be altered and changed, you won't get it right first time and that's okay! the more mistakes you make along the way, the more you can learn and adapt your routines to suit you better

🧸 : I think it can be daunting at first taking on that role as a caregiver. It can be daunting having the responsibility of someone in such a vunerable headspace. But something that helped me relax is knowing that everyone feels like this at some point.

Even as a caregiver, the whole agere process is a learning journey. You get to learn how your little ticks. You know what they like, what they don't like, what their triggers are, what their comfort items are etc. And you don't get to know any of that without a few routine trials first.

For worrying caregivers out there, I'd like to just remind you that you have all the time in the world. You won't get it right first time, and you will make a couple of innocent mistakes.

It happens.

But the bond you form communicating about those mistakes and imputting what you learn into their routines is what creates that strong bond. I remember the first time I did a routine for Pumpkin, I was more panicked than she was, which actually earned us some giggles and inside jokes.

But now that i've gotten to know her little side more, planning routines becomes more like second nature. Of course, not every routine runs perfectly. Life will happen, and meltdowns will sometimes just happen because your little is overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Just remember to take a breath and believe in yourself.

And take breaks when you need too, our mental health matters too.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

i hoped this helped!! <3

if you have any quick fire questions you wanted answered more in depth, leave a comment below!!

gif isn't mine

[aetherialfalmer]

Miraak headcanons because I have brainrot. Take the food.

When he gets exposed to mead again he acts like he's not interested but the LDB eventually finds him sampling meads he hadn't had in centuries. Miraak has to build his tolerance back up but he enjoys the taste all the same.

Miraak would be very quiet while on the road. You'd see him just looking around, taking in the sights and sounds he'd almost forgotten. Though he'd wish bears didn't attack them so much. He finds them neat.

He was taken in by the cult as a young child so he doesn't remember much about his birth family besides his brother Vahlok.

The dragon priest Krosis acted much like his guardian, keeping an eye on him, scheduling his training and getting him out of trouble. Being a former master thief, he taught Miraak a few thing or two in stealth.

Labrythian would be a place he'd recognize the most and it'd give him some mixed feelings. Not that he'd vocalize it himself. In Bromjunaar he might wander to find where he used to sleep at one point. He wouldn't talk about it right away, but it'd be obvious it'd be kind of getting to him.

Nords wouldn't look at Miraak funny, since to them, he'd look like what some nords would aspire to be. Miraak finds it funny considering he's Atmoran but he lets them think he's just a tall nord.

Attraction wise, Miraak didn't really have a preference. In his youth he'd never stick with one concubine for too long. They'd bore him after a while and he'd crave someone who could hold an intelligent conversation. However there were hints he had an affinity for elves. He says his cult made of dark elves was just coincidence.

The imperialization of the Nordic pantheon had always made him quietly disappointed. He'd refuse to use any other names than what he was raised on.

Talos was a controversial topic at first, Miraak couldn't fathom how a dragonborn after him became a god instead and then became important to Nords. The other Ysmirs would make sense to him to a capacity. Heimskr in Whiterun had no idea that he'd be on the verge of being shouted across the cloud district.

While he's touch starved, he moreso craves the simpler ways of affection. Quietly linking his fingers with his s/o, hugging from behind and cuddling before passing out in bed.

Camping is a guilty pleasure for him because the ambiance at night makes it easy for him to sleep. Silence makes it hard for him to get drowsy so he'd often leave windows cracked if he has to sleep indoors.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader, and they both just got into a heated argument that left them both crying (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand, also thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it) :)

honestly struggled to find smthn to make an argument out of but I think I got something! oneshots are a little difficult for me bc I get burned out and I think the actions but can't find the right words LMAOOOO ; but this is totally find to request dw!! and of course, if you ever need to talk my messages are always open 🫶🫶🫶 ; also istg I have other ranboo headers they're just in my drafts bc I've only been working on reqs lately LMFAO

RANBOO ; burnout

summary ; youre both burned out and stressed, and take it out on each other

warnings ; language, fighting, reader is described/talked about as a writer, angry mischaracterization (it makes sense in context trust me)

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

Both you and Ranboo had been working your asses off recently.

They had themselves so tied down to content creation that it was becoming a personal prison cell. It was like everything he did was only to appease his fans, and he didn't know how to just calm down and slow things down for his well being. From the constant, long streams to the talks with merch and production teams, it never ended. Plus, the infinite cycle of scrolling online to see all the hate they received, it was becoming too much.

You, on the other hand, constantly kept working and working through the lack of motivation and burnout with no breaks. No matter how much people reassured you that you could take a break and you didn't have to stick to a schedule, it didn't do anything. You were determined to fill out each and every request even if you barely had any idea what you were doing, you'd stay up late trying to block out what to write and how to put it into words to appease your followers. Three times a day, seven days a week, every day of the month, about 2000 posts a year, if you kept that up.

You were dedicated to writing, you loved it, and you loved that you were able to turn something you loved into a job considering "real" jobs didn't work out for you. You had streaming, but you only did that if you were writing or needed ideas or help every once in a while and wanted to share any progress and whatnot. Your eyes tended to be bloodshot on the regular, being pulled down by saggy, dark eyebags.

You trudge into the kitchen, taking a cold bowl of mac and cheese and some water back to your office with you. Ranboo glares at you from the couch, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to some big guy with money, most likely. He doesn't say anything, but you notice the look on his face, his eyes glaring daggers into you as you walk away.

You sit back down at your chair, not even touching your food. You stare at the screen, your eyes slightly protected by the dark mode you'd reinforced on the website. Your mind was blank, empty, vacant, muddled. There were no thoughts behind your glazed eyes.

Your head pounded in pain, caused by all the blue light absorption you'd been taking in recently. God, Ran hated that. How you'd fucking complain of a headache and only do everything to worsen it. It pissed him off. It made him want to yell at you to just shut up about it, considering you didn't want to do anything to help yourself.

You type away at the keyboard once more, every button press causing a little click or clack to immerse from it. The keys light up a particular shade of white, a smooth wave like pattern glazing across it once more. You stop again, unable to finish the sentence once more.

You groan and lean back in your seat, feeling the utter disgust around you. You oh so desperately needed to sit in the shower and cry, considering your stress and pain, but you couldn't. You needed to make these people happy, you owed them. You owed them for giving you a stable job and a roof over your head, the least you could do was have their requests out within a few days.

You sit and ponder about your partner. You were sure there was no love left anymore. Both of you were too financially dependent on one another to up and leave, so it had to work for now.

Ranboo, now not on the phone, nearly slams the door of your office open, smelling the ice cold pasta you hadn't even touched a few feet away. He's quick to raise his voice with a stern tone, pissed off at you once again.

"Dude, I told you dinner was ready an hour ago, what the fuck? And then you just bring it in here and don't even touch it just to stare at the damn screen some more? Are you fucking kidding?"

You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with this again. "Fuck's it matter? This is my job, Ranboo"

"Your job isn't to please everyone who acts nice to you. Your job is to write quality content and not complain about burning yourself out or headaches that you could easily solve by touching grass! Go outside, this isn't even a job. You don't do anything other than write some stupid fantasy all day and feed into people's delusions, Y/n!" He quickly rants, scoffing at the end.

"Holy shit, you're one to talk! Meh meh, meh, I'm so miserable, and I do all these long streams for my fans, and I treat my partner like shit because I never spend time with them and enable their unhealthy behaviors! I take out my anger on them because I'm a lonely asshole." You quickly spit back, standing up from your chair.

They scoff, stepping towards you a bit, "You're so pathetic, I never want to hear you come to me with your problems again. You're dependent on me. You barely get any money off of that, let alone any to pay rent or buy your own groceries. Get into the real world where talking to fancy businessmen and actually working for your money is all you do! Walk in my shoes for one day!"

You roll your eyes again and scoff, "You don't think this is an actual job? I could say the same to you! You play video games all fucking day and beg for Twitch subs! Just because you have a fancy merch line and have some stupid show you're working on doesn't make you all high and mighty and more important than anyone else!"

"It does, actually, you have no room to complain! If you need a break, you can go take it. My schedule is busy every hour of the day, I have no time to do shit! You're an overbearing, selfish asshole!"

Now that got the waterworks going, that's what got you beyond the point of just petty arguing to genuinely fighting. You have no room to complain, yet you spend all day just trying to make people happy and not hate you, to just pump content out and pretend like you're okay. You bottle up your emotions so he won't have to worry about you, yet you're overbearing and selfish.

"You are such a fucking asshole! Everything needs to be about you, doesn't it? Every single fucking thing in the world, huh? Fine, screw you" You turn to grab the bowl of food, and quickly, out of sheer anger, throw it at him, shattering the ceramic bowl. "I hope I never see you again, go fuck yourself. You don't deserve shit of what you have, your platform, your friends, your money, anything. I hope your whole online empire comes crumbling down and you're left with nothing"

You snatch up your phone, wallet, and keys, quickly stomping past him as tears drip down your cheeks. He stands there, appalled as tears well in his glassy eyes. He tries to chase you outside once he realizes you're serious, but you'd already slammed the door so hard it might as well have fallen off the hinges. He wipes his eyes, cheeks a light red due to the sheer amount of anger he felt in the moment. He was soaked in cold mac and cheese, ruining his white hoodie.

Once the adrenaline wasn't coursing through his veins anymore, he sits himself on the kitchen floor, the cold tile against his hands being used as a grounding technique. Some ceramic dust lays on his shoes, some liquid cheese being smeared against his hoodie as he tries to use a towel to wipe the access off.

Fuck, what did he just do?

He sits in silence, rethinking the situation as tears slowly stream down his face.

He could only hope that you were safe on that bus to nowhere. That bus you used to just go anywhere but home, just to escape the horrible life you lived inside that house. The house that bound you to its walls so you couldn't escape.

You couldn't escape the pain of your popular online presence or the pain of being trapped in that house any longer. Finally, it broke, the enchantment that kept you sealed inside.

Someone had to leave, and it looked like it was going to be you this time around.

[sharkboywrites]

Rainy Nights

Summary: Your bookstore date is going well until it starts to rain and your octo-boyfriend, who's afraid of storms, is eager to leave and go home

Azul Ashengrotto x male/gn reader, reader can drive, Azul is afraid of storms, both are out of school and implied to live together

A/N: I ended up having to drive home from the bookstore in absolute downpour, like to the point where I could barley see the road, and of course I thought of a writing idea instead of focusing on the road

You had been itching to go to a bookstore lately, one of those feelings that you just can't get rid of. Between a constant work schedule constantly keeping you on your feet and taking up your time, focusing on studies, and making sure you could pay the bills to at least have running water in your apartment, you hadn't had the time to take the little trip you so desperately wanted.

This trip you wanted to take wasn't only for you either. Your octo-boyfriend had been working so hard lately running his own business and making sure the two of you could stay comfortable in your shared apartment. You wanted to do something nice for him and make sure he wasn't overworking himself.

After talking together and figuring out both of your schedules, you finally found a good day where both of you would be free for the rest of the day once Azul had gotten back from work. Planning out your schedule for the day, you got yourself ready in a nice outfit. Not anything over the top, but still cute and in your style. Perfect for your little bookstore date. Once he returned home, Azul found you sitting on the couch, perfect and ready to go.

"well aren't you excited to go?" he asked teasingly

You stood up, doing a little jump from the heel of your foot to show just exactly excited you were to head out "Oh come on, go get ready. I'll be right here when you're done."

When he came back in more casual clothes, he even made sure you two matched at least a little bit, you were standing there bouncing up and down, car keys in hand.

When you both went to NRC together and weren't dating just yet, you never saw Azul outside of his school uniform and suit he wore for the mostro lounge. Seeing him in more casual clothes was something you slowly got used to as the two of you grew closer.

You got into the driver's seat of the car and immediately turned the ac on, due to the hot summer day, as Azul got into the passengers seat. It made sense between the two of you that you drove instead of him, due to his lack of knowledge of cars growing up in the sea.

You drove in silence, quiet music playing through the radio. It was an unspoken thing between the two of you that you didn't really talk while driving except for small comments and giving directions. It wasn't like it was awkward, it was a comfortable silence that ensured you could focus on the road.

The bookstore you wanted to go to was in a small outdoor mall, so you navigated through all the other stores and parked outside the rather large and popular bookstore. By that point it started to rain slightly, so you both sprinted inside the store giving each other a small laugh, a laugh you loved dearly, and wiped off your shoes.

The familiar smell of books and coffee filled your nose and you could feel the excitement bubbling up.

You really did try to stick with Azul while browsing, but it was basically inevitable that you'd split up with your different tastes. You had to pick up the new volumes of your favorite manga after all.

While looking, you passed a small pride section, which made sense due to the month. The feeling of acceptance made you smile slightly. In the section was a book with a cartoon cover. A masc figure sat at the edge of a pool with a merman in the water looking back up at him. Of course the scene reminded of you and your mer-boyfriend and you couldn't help but giggle slightly.

After about fifteen minutes of browsing, while you were slightly crouching down looking at an interesting looking book, you felt a hand on your shoulder and came face to face with Azul. He was carrying two books, a larger hard copy and a smaller soft cover. "Had enough yet?"

"I'd say I'm just about done." you replied while putting the book you were looking at back, deciding to leave it for next time. He gave you a small smile before walking to the front.

While at the front you both picked up a few nice looking bookmarks, and you even picked out a few pride pins matching your identity. Happy pride month after all.

While you were just finishing off paying for both your and Azul's books, much to his disagreement because he "wanted to be a gentleman" and pay for your books instead, the sky was lit up and the familiar thunder followed. There was a moment of silence and you turned to see your boyfriend completely tense.

Giving him a small smile, an attempt at being comforting, you take his hand into yours and walk to the front of the store, bag in your other hand. Before leaving the store and walking back out into the rain, you gave his hand an affirming squeeze.

You both rushed back to your car in the rain, quickly getting into your seats and throwing the bag into the back seat. You let out a small laugh and the adrenaline and saw Azul relax in the corner of your eye at the sound. His relaxation was cut short quickly by another flash of light and crash.

You let out a small sigh and turned on the car, slowly backing out and starting the twenty minute journey back home.

As usual it was quiet. Your unspoken rule. The rain was coming down even harder, to the point where it was getting hard to see the yellow and white lines.

Azul was still sitting stiff next to you. With no words, but an action that meant almost everything to him, you took one hand off the wheel, making sure to slow down a bit to be more careful with the loss of some control, and placed it on his arm. You could almost immediately feel him start to relax under your touch.

The cool breeze still came form the ac of the car, making the both of you feel a little more calm along with the small amount of music coming from the low volume radio.

While you couldn't exactly understand how or why Azul is so afraid of storms, you could always make a guess. Storms had never been pretty on land, but you remember being younger, seeing how the ocean looked after a rough storm. It was terrifying. You couldn't even imagine what it looked like under the surface.

You can clearly remember the first night you spent together when a storm hit. He had come over to ramshackle after he decided he was done dealing with the eel twins. Once the strong winds and rain had started, he curled up into your embrace and stayed that way for the entire night. You can still hear the teasing from Floyd after the twins came to get him the next morning.

After a few more minutes of driving while not being able to see very well and encouraging arm rubbing, you arrived at your shared apartment. It was still silent as you both got out of the car, bag of books in hand, and reached your door. Azul sat down while you went to your shared bedroom to change into something more comfortable. When you came back he had sorted your books and was reading the smaller of the two he had bought on the couch, still a bit tense.

You walked into your small kitchen and made a cup of your and Azul's favorite hot drink. You came back into the living room, setting the two mugs down, and sat next to him. After turning on the tv and putting on your favorite "background noise show" at a low volume, you leaned back on the sofa, and pulled Azul into your embrace.

He tensed again at first but relaxed into your hold, still reading his book. You tried reading one of the books you had gotten, but ended up getting distracted running your hands through his hair and sipping your warm drink. After what could have been a half hour and hour, Azul had fallen asleep, completely safe with you. You set down your drink and shifted to be laying down on the sofa and holding him closer, slowly drifting off into sleep with him, just like the night at ramshackle, but without the teasing in the morning.

Songs from musicals go hard while writing fanfiction apparently, ty for reading. Have a nice day.

[ivyblossom]

Hi m'lovely, I hope you're doing well! It's so nice seeing you around here again <3

I've been meaning to ask you for a while if you'd be willing to talk more about the prompts (voice assistant and other) that you've mentioned setting up to help with your ADHD? I've tried to do similar things myself, like buying smart lightbulbs set to turn off at 11 and remind me to go to bed, but I still find I have a tendency to ignore them or for them to stop being helpful if my schedule changes at all. How do you make yourself stick to prompts that are easy to ignore?

@glitterarygetsit! Beloved! Most delightful of humans!

Yes, I hear you, I have this problem as well. Once routines become routine, they get easier to ignore or work around. I have not solved that yet, not completely, but I have a few suggestions.

The first thing is to think of future yourself as a beautiful puppy just here to have a good time. We don't want to hurt the puppy! The puppy is not being naughty on purpose, puppies are going to puppy, that's all! We embrace the puppy. But the puppy is stubborn and is really focused on having a good time, so we need to insert a variety of nudges leading to the key result.

When's bedtime? Are you switching the lights off at 11 beacuse you want to go to bed at 11? Your environmental nudges need to start quite a lot earlier, because the puppy is not paying attention and wants to keep playing puppy games. When the lights go off, the puppy can just switch them back on again.

Maybe it's better to think about the environmental controls as a way to indicating the passage of time more than just a message that means "go to bed". I need a variety of prompts to remind me that it's getting late, and I need them all. Your lights switching off, your audio signals, aren't just telling you to go to bed. They are interrupting what you're doing. One of the reasons we struggle to stop one activity and pick up a different one is because we are hyperfocused. Once you break the hyperfocus, you can make a different choice. Without it broken, you're stuck in a loop even if you want to get up and go to bed.

I also would like to be in bed at 11, so my nudges start at 9pm. I have the lights go off in succession: first one, then another, until there's just one left. When the first one goes off, I think, oh, it's getting towards time. Well, okay, but I want to do this other thing first. And then the second one goes. Oh boy, soon I'm going to be sitting in a dark room. Better finish this thing off. At 9am, I also have a bedtime playlist start to play. I almost never listen to it, but if I want to shut it off, I have to stop and do that.

I also follow that up with a series of other good ideas. Why not make yourself a night cap? (I make a lavender latte at bedtime.) What's for dinner tomorrow? What are you wearing tomorrow? lay out your clothes! Here's tomorrow's weather forecast! Have you washed your face? You know what would be nice right now? Wearing pajamas!

These prompts are things I would like it if I did, but they're also interruptions. I'm basically annoying myself out of whatever hyperfocus I'm in.

But also: let's not forget pleasure! The puppy likes things! That's why I introduced the night cap. When I remind myself that I could make myself one right now, sometimes it truly does tempt me, and then I'm in the routine loop. Add lovely things to your routine and treat yourself to them. Appealing things are easier to get yourself to do.

I create routines in strings, so I can adjust the timing on them pretty easily, I just adjust the start time. I do that more in the mornings than the evenings.

I think we probably need to schedule times to adjust the routine, or add fun new things to it. The best addition I've made to a routine recently is to start my morning one 10 minutes earlier and have the speaker tell me I can ignore it for 10 minutes. Strangely enough, that really helped.

Anyone else have suggestions?

I love you, @glitterarygetsit!

[monkey-network]

The Disposable Era of Cartoons

There exists many cartoons in the world that a vast majority never really bring up, and that's okay. Not everyone can watch everything all the time and you can argue that we only scratch the surface since the beginning. I've always had this deep seeded thought however of how animation's been treated, notably of tv shows. Browsing my usual "streaming" sites, I often come upon a show I've never heard of before. One just recently was Zokie of Planet Ruby, a series made by Nelvana, hosted by Nickelodeon, with its entire first season dropped on Amazon Prime on the last day of 2023. Overall, it's not a show I'm interested in, but how it was just dumped onto streaming upon other factors like that got deep seeded thought resurfacing into a theory. A theory regarding the potential era where excess is reaching its apex.

Animated TV shows I say are more arduous to make than films. Not to say films are more effortless to produce, god no, but have better limits given you'll have a set script and runtime to work off of as opposed to having to constantly produce multiple at a time for episodes ranging from 7 to 22 minutes. We work on a timeline where it's hard to believe any new story isn't derivative of already told stories, but the beauty does come in how we're able to transform them with new purposes and concepts. The workload however can be a lot many recognize but don't grasp themselves only as outsiders. The pitch getting greenlit is just the big toe in the door, finally stepping in is a matter of juggling multiple episodes a day, revising and editing, deliveries to the animators, all for the hope that it gets back in time to air. This is where I've come to appreciate The Simpsons, good and bad. Regardless of a recent season's quality, it's undoubtedly difficult to schedule fresh ideas that can stick with the same concepts for 30+ years, all to meet the quota by the beginning of the autumn season. Things have shifted thanks to streaming.

In retrospect, what felt like a novel idea was inevitably gonna turn into a capitalistic nightmare. It makes some sense that Netflix wouldn't have a monopoly on hosting every show from cable TV to be put on their newly founded streaming site in 2007. It wouldn't have been long before every other studio threw their hat in, developing their own stream sites with the properties they made and owned themselves. Competition is natural, but now you're basically spending the same prices as cable or satellite if you wanted to watch every show you remembered seeing on TV. Sites like Tubi and PlutoTV I say are the saving graces where you can shockingly find a ton of film/shows old and new for free, but you've probably seen shows and films getting removed from the sites they originate from, either to be traded to another site or written off for good because investment returns weren't a shake 'n bake. All this is because of rights ownership and a complex web of cost cutting against the people behind said shows and films. What does this mean for cartoons, though?

Like TV shows, you're gonna have a few poster boys upon a ton of shows nobody beyond avid seekers are gonna bother remembering. This has been a trend long in the making, but while many shows can be greenlit and made it can be a crapshoot as to whether the company actually believes in that show enough to market it. For Nickelodeon, it's an open secret that any cartoon not an instant hit like Spongebob, despite little promotion from the company, would be chucked onto the Nicktoons network to run out their remaining episodes. With streaming however, you'd either get something like Zokie of Planet Ruby where everything's dumped without warning or Glitch Techs where it's stuck in development limbo with half its episodes un-aired or incomplete. This isn't just with Nick however. Disney and Cartoon Network has had its fair share of duds everyone's slept on if they weren't massively eyecatching regardless of quality. The fates of their existence is dependent on who's keeping an eye on the companies. This isn't to say shows like Infinity Train and Final Space, which got removed digitally back in October and December respectively, didn't have their supporters who expressed outrage. It's to say other shows couldn't get that level of reported support, and I feel it's only going to get worse.

This is what I believe amounts to the theoretical "Disposable Era" of television, where we aren't just having companies dispose shows but create shows that are purposefully disposable. For websites designed to stream cyclically endless content, this will mean an exponential ton of commissioned projects for cheap that anyone will pick up once, never watch again, and can be written off immediately after a small period because no one outside the crew responsible would notice, incapable of viewing unless someone miraculously torrents everything. While I've brought up TV in general as opposed to just animated stuff, I personally feel the efforts and imaginative possibilities of animation count more for the generations that grow up with them as much as the influences they can have on artists. And I can feel it's discouraging for creators to know that their work can be eventually assembly lined, worst than reality tv, and then erased for tax breaks because nobody thought about them for more than the weekend they binged it all.

This is all if you don't account for anime studios like MAPPA which are a whole other horrifying story

I say "theoretical" because we aren't that far to where it could be possible. Shows do take time to make, and even if companies are pushing AI it's barely able to be anything more than an asset for certain cases. People have their reasonable fears, but an animated show fully AI generated that lasts more than 2 7-minute episodes, at this point in time, is a wet dream from investors. AI will not easily replace the craft, but the craft will be abused year after year with of how many shows get greenlit, made within a couple years, only to be thrown out when the numbers don't appease. This doesn't mean we won't get quality gems, but the rough they come from will pile more and more, and the gems some find that the majority will ignore will be written off and vaulted. I say the inception behind my theory wasn't exactly from the recent stuff like David Zaslav or Paramount's haphazard treatment of their content, it goes a little further back.

Hanazuki: Full of Treasures wasn't a huge series back in 2017, but it was one I enjoyed a lot when it was premiering on Youtube at the time. After its first season finished, Hasbro would produce a theatrical short to coincide with the My Little Pony movie in October. This is where I felt things fell apart. While the film was a commercial success, the short was basically overshadowed and I can't help imagine was what affected the series by the time it got a season two. 2019 was where Hanazuki not only got its broadcast season cut, Hasbro would basically start erasing its existence while supposedly having in development limbo since. While it was all thankfully reuploaded, you wouldn't have been remiss to know Hasbro couldn't even allow it to stay on Youtube after its TV broadcasting.

Everything surrounding rights ownership and royalties has basically developed an endless turmoil of how shows and their crew are treated. I don't blame anyone for not discussing or mentioning everything that gets to exist. Variety is never a bad thing, and sometimes people want certain things because again not everyone thinks or enjoys stuff homogeneously. It's just always increasingly bothered me that so much can get pumped out to be either taken away or left there for people to stumble across. TV's become Youtube but more business heavy where creativity is a tightrope of whether their appeal gets to live for more than a week or not. Like Youtube though, can also be lost to time to no one looking back. Let's just say David Zaslav running WB is only considered the worst because he's become the biggest face of an open secret. He could very well be the beginning of a shift that could lead us into the Disposable Era, and it's anyone guess of how bad it could get.

With all this said, I don't believe preventative hope can't exist, especially without the effort. Piracy is already doing enough for preservation and availability, even if you gotta have adblock to watch them properly. More creators I feel should learn and process the rights they can have with their properties. If there's anything I learned from artists Bill Watterson and Making Fiends' creator Amy Winfrey, is that production syndicates will abuse their knowledge of the law to do as they see fit, especially when it comes down to what you're offering them. The eventual animators and VFX work strikes could provide something more stable, but that's all in due time. How much the average audience member can retain or hyperfixate on is not something to concern, rather that it happens at all. The best solution is finding a middle ground between the disposable and sentimental; more people being vocal about good stuff they found no matter how small. There can be pushback from online lethargic asshats, but it's far better than complaining about the multitude of reboots or how woke everything's become. Something is only as disposable as nobody proclaims otherwise.

but that's all just a theory.