#except here it would be 2pm

[gipsyjr]

Dick, walking tiredly into the batcave: w-wha time izzit?...

Tim, on his 4th coffee: I dunno

Dick, half asleep: i can't sleeeeep timmyyy throws himself on tim

Tim: are you in pain? Sips coffee

Dick: no

Tim "I dont need sleep I need answers" Drake: then I guess your not tired then?

Dick "I haven't slept well in years" Grayson: ...

Dick: Bruh. I'm stealing your pillow.

[cappurrccino]

i'm going to need my boss to stop saying "it should be pretty quiet and nothing weird should come up while i'm gone" right before she goes on vacations, because it's like that puts a hex directly on me and guarantees that the weirdest shit imaginable is going to pop up and i'm going to have to try to navigate it while not even having a real policy/procedure manual to fall back on

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: Pre-Date Jitters

G/N. Who would have thought Gun could get nervous. Follow up to Awkward Flirtations. Masterlists

All of Goo's insults, that Gun thought he had perfected the art of tuning out over the years, are finally coming home to roost.

That fucking moron. I'm going to kill him, he thinks.

Gun had never particularly concerned himself with what Goo thought. After all, why would he, why should he. Does a human care about what a mosquito thinks?

Yet Gun looks at his reflection for a beat longer than usual, eyes drawn to his hair as uninspiring taunts 'did you dunk your head in grease', 'shave it off and start again' in Goo's whiny, irritating timbre echo in his mind.

I will kill him, Gun decides.

This morning is not starting off well.

It gets worse when Gun observes his wardrobe.

To his disdain, there are overlaps in brands and fashion houses between his and Goo's clothing despite Gun opting for a more muted, understated palette and Goo going for as obnoxious as physically possible.

Nevertheless, that never stopped Goo from running his mouth.

'You should burn that shirt.'

'Did you find that in a dumpster?'

But, and Gun's already sour mood turns even more sour at the realisation, Goo may have a point.

Well, actually no he fucking doesn't.

But what if your taste is more aligned to the blonde's that Gun Park's own. That you agree and find his hair overdone and his clothes tasteless.

Is he also going to need to don his glasses again to hide the unmissable scar between his eyes?

What the fuck, Gun thinks, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to dismiss all this uncharacteristic doubt.

"What the fuck," he murmurs, nostrils flaring as he slams his eyes shut and counts to ten.

On ten, he exhales. The thoughts disappear. All, except one:

I'm going to strangle Goo Kim.

.

.

At 1:50pm, standing outside the coffee shop, Gun burns through two cigarettes before the agreed meeting time of 2pm.

Then at 2:04pm, he lights up another, takes a short, solitary drag before stubbing it out.

At 2:07pm, he smokes one more to the filter in a single, long, inhale.

The annoyance, and nicotine, fully hits 30 seconds later as your absence becomes unbearably loud.

Less than ten minutes have passed, though with the anticipation coursing through Gun's veins, it feels like a lifetime and pride halts him from texting you.

Perhaps you got into an accident. Maybe you died on the way here. Or more realistically-

Did you waste his time? Have you stood him up?

That would certainly be a first.

Is this what being stood up feels like? A steady force of disappointment grows heavier with each passing second, eventually sure to crush him under its own weight.

Manifesting, twisting into anger and vexation in a split second.

What is he even doing with this moronic romanticism? Why would Gun Park be on a date?  He does not form attachments, romantic or otherwise. Neither does he spend his time hanging outside coffee shops waiting for someone who he can't mould into his masterpiece. He shouldn't have, doesn't have interest in anything besides getting stronger or richer-

"Sorry!"

Your voice bursts through the spiralling thoughts as you grab his attention by squeezing his arm.

You ramble. Something about the traffic and getting lost but it doesn't matter. None of it matters.

The sun, resting high and pretty in the sky, illuminates you, casting a golden aura and your halo of light envelopes Gun.

All previous anger, gone. All uncertainty from this morning, vanished.

He inhales, like the first breath of air after drowning, and with his exhale, can't help the smallest smile that rests on his face.

"You look nice," you add sincerely after your apology, eyes roving approvingly over his form.

Gun finding his mouth suddenly dry, clears his throat and acknowledges your compliment with a nod. He looks at you, gaze softer than he ever thought capable, and with a hand resting on the small of your back, leads you into the cafe.

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Favorite Color ❤︎︎

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐎𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫❤︎︎

_________________________________

“𝐒𝐨, 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐈’𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧“ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐢𝐱𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝟓 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬.

"The hostility coming from you right now is crazyy, just hold on a second" Paige huffed, the sound of rustling grew louder in the background, as your suspicions heightened.

The day started off pretty normal, you went to work for a couple hours while Paige was out and about doing her side quests for the summer. Spending a few days apart wasn't the easiest thing to do, but the daily Facetime calls always made it a little better.

Except for today, Your phone buzzed promptly at 2pm during your break as always, since she had memorized your break schedule like the back of her hand, a day was never missed.

You were met with a black screen and a very ecstatic Paige on the other hand, for reasons you were unaware of.

"I just wanna see your face and we have less than an hour left before I have to go" A frown planted on your face, there was no use in trying to hide it. Hearing her voice was one vice, but seeing her face healed something inside of you, she was just so perfect. In your eyes, she could do no wrong, except for right now.

"Baby don't look at me like that" she pleaded "There's no need to be sad when I'm wearing your favorite color"

The screen lit up nearly on cue, her face filled your screen brightly as she cheesed from ear to ear. You wanted to laugh but your eyes soon halted your movements as you realized there was something daringly different.

She did not.

Did She?

"Paige! you- your hair!!" you yelped in shock, fighting the urge to fall out of your seat. "It's PINK!"

PInk

The color of sunsets flowers, and love.

The shade was perfect against her skin tone, her eyes became more of an ocean blue in contrast with the color.

"Mhmm, you like it?" she asked getting dangerously close to the camera, rubbing her chin slightly while her eyes squint dramatically. "I did it jus for you pretty girl"

"Yeah right, what advertisement is this for?" you questioned trying to find any clues from her background.

"Don't! Worry about that" her hand flying up to screen in defense "You're always doubting me like I wouldn't dye my hair for you"

You couldn't help but laugh, she didn't even like the color pink but, when she met you she had learned to gain a small liking for it through other aspects, such as shoes, decor, and candy of course.

"I would never doubt you P, you look beautiful with pink hair"

"Thank you" her tone softer than before, the tint in her cheeks now matched her hair. "but don't worry the blonde will be back soon" she stated confidently.

"I think both colors fit you really well, not a lot of people can pull off the things that you do y'know.."

"Yeah well, you're not one of those people sooo" she asked taking in all your features "Wanna dye your hair purple next?"

"Abosutely not"

"Why not?! You can be the purple care bear and I'll be the pink one"

"You're terrible at flirting, did anybody ever tell you that?" Ice's voice echoed from afar. "You can't even name the care bears!'

A groan fell from Paige's lips "Here you go again, minding my business instead of yours"

"My bad Shortcake, I'm just telling you the truth"

Before you could intervene, the timer you had set went off, signaling that you had to go back to work.

Unfortunately

[existennialmemes]

Ok so let's talk about chronotypes.

Our society is so preoccupied with the diurnal schedule, that if you Google chronotypes you're gonna find a lot of information that may completely ignore your chronotype.

For some reason, only four types are really talked about. All given cutesy animal names instead of any kind of meaningful distinction, because our society refuses to take sleep seriously, but I digress.

So the four they acknowledge are:

“Lions” commonly referred to as “the early birds.” People who tend to wake up around before sunrise, go to bed around 9 or 10, and typically experience their most active hours in the morning and early afternoon.

“Bears” are folks who tend to wake up when the sun rises, and stay up a little later at night. They're typically most active in the afternoons.

“Wolves” commonly referred to as “night owls” tend to wake up in the late morning, go to sleep around 2am, and experience their most active hours in the late afternoon and evening.

“Dolphins” are a category I'm actually impressed they include, even if the descriptions aren't great. Mostly these folks are described as sensitive sleepers who are easily disturbed by light and whatnot and tend not to have set schedules because they're easily shifted. However what this is nodding to is actually a phenomenon known as “non 24.” This means their circadian rhythms are on a non 24hr schedule. Some could be shorter like 22hrs, some longer like 28hrs. But in any case, functionally what this means is that their sleep wake cycle changes. They could be getting up at 6am one day and getting up at 3pm a few weeks later as their schedule naturally shifts. Disturbances to their schedule, at any given point, result in the same “night shift” disorder symptoms we see in diurnal folks who have to work at night.

And these are all great and very real chronotypes but did you notice who's missing?

All of the nocturnals!

What about the people who go to bed at 6am and wake up at 2pm? What about the people who go to bed at 10am and wake up at 6pm? And everyone else who's natural rhythms have them sleeping while the sun is up??

According to most of the readily available information, you simply do not exist. Except, you very clearly do exist. And it's frustrating that our society refuses to acknowledge that at all.

But cutesy names aside, your chronotype is a representation of your circadian rhythms' effect on your sleep/wake cycle. Your “internal clock.” Or rather, how your internal clock is set.

Humans have immense variance on this. Much like our neurotypes, we're talking about extremely varied categories here.

But if we must generalize, then personally I would generalize them like this :

(based on wake times)

Early Morning (4am-7am)

Late Morning (8am-11am)

Early Afternoon (12pm-3pm)

Early Evening (4pm-7pm)

Early Night (8pm-11pm)

Late Night (12am-3am)

And two additional categories for non 24s:

< 24hr cycle

> 24hr cycle

At best I could generalize them down into eight categories, but truthfully I don't think it's accurate to try to assign chronotypes into rigid categories like this. Not everyone sleeps for exactly 8hrs first of all, and the exact number you need varies based on various environmental circumstances, so even within your own chronotype, there's gonna be a little bit of variance in your exact sleep/wake times.

The biggest takeaway is that not everyone can get their best sleep (or any sleep) at the same times. We are wired to sleep and rise at different times, and while we can fight it (at immense detriment to ourselves) we cannot actually change our chronotypes.

You can force yourself to get used to low quality sleep, but you'll suffer the consequences for it no matter how used to it you get.

Aligning our schedules with our chronotypes should be an undisputed priority, but of course that wouldn't enrich the oligarchs so most folks are not granted the privilege of sleeping according to their own internal clock.

[vivicas-dollhouse]

CREEPYPASTA SLEEPOVER HEADCANNONS!!

Moms not home tonight, we can roll around have a pillow fight

Genre: headcannons

Pastas featured: ticci toby, jeff the killer, eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ben drowned, sally williams, kate the chaser, clockwork, jane the killer, nina the killer, lulu, bloody painter, homicidal liu

Desc: just how i think some of the pastas would act at a sleepover :)

Cw: talk of drugs and alcohol

2.5k words, enjoy!!

Toby

-HORRIBLE at sleepovers. HORRIBLY ANNOYING.

-he will bring his console and try to get everyone to agree to a mariokart tournament

-he brings snacks, and hes got everything. cookies? yep. chips? you bet! soda? yes but only pepsi cherry.

-the only thing he forgot was a blanket and pajamas and literally everything else except games and food

-bro went and forgot a damn blanket

-he will talk all night if you let him. mainly about weird shit he learned recently that creeps you out

-he will be fine to keep partying at 5 am. my brother in christ is FIGHTING to keep everyone awake

-he will insist that he sleeps in just his boxers, he says its too hot

-”you ex-expect me t-to boil alive?”

-sleeps at 10am and wont wake up until you either shake him awake or 5pm rolls around

-sleeps like a tank, when hes out hes OUT

-mouthbreather, bro is practically eating the bugs

-he want nachos or he will throw a hissy fit about how they are “more for less”

Jeff

-he brings weed. No questions asked. Whats a party without some drugs?

-he also brings cigarettes cause bro is collecting addictions like pokemon

-orders pizza for him and himself only, the group can order whatever they want

-brings a body pillow and wraps his legs around it to sleep. The group bullies him for this.

-”god forbid a man get comfortable..”

-sleeps in gym shorts and a wife beater tank top

-he will smoke so much weed that he is staring at the wall for hours

-he falls asleep around 5am, wakes up at 11 the next morning feeling like he got hit by a bus

-he talks in his sleep, just loud enough to freak the others out cause its all genuinely creepy (like the pasta……)

-”youre not…… getting…. home….” WHAT THE FUCK

-before he sleeps he has to have a full glass of water cause his mouth gets “painfully dry” and its his only form of hydration

-brings a knife because why not? He never feels safe without it

Jack

-hes always fun to have around, hes quiet but funny and always has fun facts

-he brings kidneys to eat because he really doesn't like human food. Only problem is that it REEKS

-he has fuzzy pajama pants, a tshirt and slippers. He is ALWAYS cold so he has to bundle up with a blanket

-insists that they play minecraft or super smash bros, and hes ass at both

-”cmon, you cant button mash, actually play,”

-he sleeps pretty early, around midnight. He is the victim of many pranks because of this

-sleeps super heavy, wont wake up until you shake him for at least a minute

-purrs in his sleep

-brings extra toiletries, you never know if someone might've forgotten toothpaste

-might read before bed, he needs to have a wind down activity

-he likes watching true crime movies/documentaries and will pick out the most gore filled one cause they make him hungry

-puts on nu metal and ignores the protests of the others to turn it off

-brings headphones in case he gets overwhelmed, he doesn't usually get like that but hed rather be safe than sorry

Ben

-you already KNOW hes here to PARTY

-doesnt need drugs to act crazy, he just needs sugar and guess what! He brought candy! Lots of it too

-he brings any console or handheld game consoles he can reasonably set up, with multiple controllers for each. His bag is HUGE

-he sleeps in a tshirt and booty shorts, but he owns it

-”cmon, you cant see this total dumpy ive got? I got the shorts for a reason,”

-keeps the party going until the late morning, he will not sleep until 2pm

-wants the greasiest food possible, im talking jack in the box all day breakfasts level of greasy

-plays nightcore music, which he gets bullied for but its lowkey fire

-he forgot a blanket and will be fine with just sleeping on the floor, he doesn't plan on sleeping much anyways

-he wants to watch shitty comedies, if given the opportunity to put on monty python and the holy grail he will

-or he will put on john mulaney specials, everyone loves john mulaney

-when he DOES sleep, he snores SO FUCKING LOUD that it keeps everyone awake

-will ask to play spin the bottle bc he is an actual fiend for awkwardness he can bully people about (and kissing dudes)

Sally

-ah yes, our bestest girl

-she brings stuffed animals, a blanket and a princess sleeping bag

-she is still young, so she isnt really allowed to hang around the other pastas sleepovers

-plus she hates sleeping around men so it can only be a sleepover with all girls and no drugs/crackhead behavior

-she plays minecraft all night

-she will ask to put on a disney princess movie and will fall asleep to that

-”can mr teddy come watch frozen with us?”

-her bedtime is at 10pm, but she will fight to stay awake until 11pm

Masky

-oh boy.

-he doesn't like sleepovers, he doesn't want to go to sleepovers, and will only be there as a trip sitter or a chaperone of sorts

-he will smoke a little weed but is mostly content with a pack of cigarettes and a beer

-just turns on a random sport of a random team to nod off to, hes not the type to stay up unless theres a job he needs to complete

-”can yall be quiet, im tryin to watch the… the uhhh…. the mets and the… the other team,”

-sleeps shirtless with gym shorts, maybe sometimes he will wear a tank top but only if hes asked to

-wants to eat a burger, just any burger with bacon. He doesn't even need a fry, just a coke and a burger with bacon.

-falls asleep on the couch, he doesn't care what anyone else is doing, as long as no ones dying and they leave him alone

-he makes everyone feel like they are being parented, and even he hates it. He is above watching these dumbasses

-he might play a game, but thats a low chance

-plays 90s grunge music, he cant help it, its so good

-he snores quietly, unlike SOME GHOST HE KNOWS.

Hoodie

-brings so much weed. So much.

-he brings a duplicate hoodie of the one he shows up in, the famous yellow one

-he mainly smokes and plays on his phone, he might even put on a baby sensory video once everyone is high

-he puts on youtube deep dives on whatever he finds interesting, usually some internet drama

-”...and he made him cut up the medallion and i shit you not they nearly got him to put it up his ass,”

-brings everything you could ever want when you have the munchies, chips, dip, soda, candy, and some hot pockets

-brings headphones to listen to rain sounds while he sleeps

-he mutters absolute nonsense while asleep

-he sleeps around 3am and is a fairly light sleeper.. thats why he brought headphones

-wants to sleep in the bed, he doesn't care if someone is already in it, they can share!

-sleeps in a tank top and pajama pants, the pants usually get kicked off in the middle of the night though

-he moves a lot in his sleep, he sometimes sleepwalks but not often

Kate

-shes rarely invited, but shes glad to go

-she is very nocturnal, she will be up all night eating snacks she's squirreled away in her bag

-she wants sushi, but understands if its out of budget. She has enough pickles to make it through the night.

-she sleeps in a hoodie and sweatpants, hood up and curled in a ball

-she brings an actual sleeping bag, she doesn't want to sleep on JUST the floor.

-she brings so many snacks, but forgets any toiletries and a pillow

-”you want a pickle? I have so many, sweet, dill, spicy.. or do you want something else? I have a lot of stuff,”

-she wants to play twister so bad, but shes scared to ask

-shes shy, but as the night goes on she opens up

-she is fun to be around once the drinks start flowing, shes very bubbly and silly while drunk

-she doesn't know how to play video games, but shes happy to watch

-wants to watch notoriously shitty movies to make fun of

-she sleeps with headphones on playing emo music

-she finally sleeps around 5am, and shes OUT until at least noon

Nina

-oh jesus where to start..

-she will be black out drunk by the end of the night. She even brought the drinks to make sure

-she might be underage but there are bigger issues with her being drunk

-shes a crier, she gets messy drunk and gets into fights

-”you called me a slut, ill *hic* ill make you a dead b- *sniffle* bitch, you dont call.. you dont call ME a slut, it *sniff* it was only 3 times,”

-sleeps in a tight cropped tank top and hello kitty pajama pants

-she will watch shitty romcoms and cry the whole time

-she will try to kiss anyone and everyone, shes sad AND flirty at the same time

-she will reveal her darkest secrets if you prod her

-she doesn't want food, eating makes you fat and she will let everyone know that while they eat

-she pregamed the fucking sleepover, tell me you have a problem without telling me you have a problem

-she sleeps as soon as she finishes all her frozen margaritas, but theres enough of them that youd think shes got alcohol poisoning

Jane

-shes not the type to go to sleepovers, but if she WAS she would be a babysitter to the others

-she will not go to a sleepover with any men. She doesn't trust them at all

-she doesn't drink or smoke so shes stuck watching people to make sure no one kills each other

-she will turn on the office and just watch it like nothing else is happening

-asks to get kfc, shes a sucker for some fried chicken

-she sleeps in a oversized shirt and shorts, she gets hot easy

-”are you all going to eat the drumsticks or can i have them.. nina why are you crying now?”

-she sleeps only after her 8 step skin care and having a glass of water, she cannot sleep thirsty

-shes fine with sleeping on the couch or armchair, anything but the floor

-wears noise canceling headphones to bed, she sleeps so lightly that its nearly impossible to sleep without them

-she sleeps pretty early, around midnight or so

Clockwork

-theres no fucking way she's getting out of this without a wicked headache in the morning

-she gets nervous sleeping around other people so she smokes weed to feel better

-like a lot of weed

-she gets all giggly when high, she genuinely has a great time

-she craves cheese ramen so bad that she will go out of her way to make some in the kitchen at fucking 4am

-she is also practically nocturnal, she will wake up at 5pm and sleep at 6am

-she snores so loudly and mouth breaths, she sounds like a fucking tank

-”please bro drive me to the store i need more cheese, we only have kraft singles that shit is nasty”

-she watches funny tiktok complations and laughs her ass off all night

-do not mention how silly she was when she wakes up. Shes not silly or goofy, she is a tough, stoic woman (eyeroll)

-she sleeps in a tank top and short shorts, and brings a pillow and light blanket only

Lulu

-is honored to be included in a sleepover, she never usually gets included

-she brings snacks, various medications, toothpaste and tooth brushes, lotion, shampoo and conditioner, a comb, floss, two pillows, drinks….

-basically she overpacks

-she sleeps in a nightgown, and she has sock slippers that she wears while sleeping

-she doesn't drink or smoke, and shes fairly overwhelmed by everything thats happening

-”oh, um, i was wondering when its bed time?”

-she finds a quiet corner, brings her stuff and reads until she falls asleep around 11pm

-she wants to make people happy so she says she's enjoying herself but she is miserable

-she was under the impression that she would be able to shower, and is confused on why no one is

-she eats a sandwich she packed because she has a mild nut allergy and didnt want to risk any food they get causing an allergic reaction

-she really wanted to have fun, but parties are not her thing

Helen

-just a constant downer, he brings the mood down SO fast

-”did you know that you swallow 8 spiders in your sleep a year and that there is actually horse meat in that mcdonalds your eating” BRO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT

-just sits in a corner and draws, he didnt want to come in the first place

-doesn't want anything youd normally have at a sleepover, he wants a salad or at MINIMUM a sandwich or soup

-he brings an actual air mattress, he is above sleeping on the ground (and it hurts his back)

-he doesn't want to play any games, talk smack about anything, or do anything you'd normally do

-yet he stays up all night, creepily watching people sleep and drawing them

-only goes to bed when the sun's starting to rise, but he will be up again at 10am

-wears his normal clothes to sleep, he doesn't NEED pajamas and his day clothes work the same as pjs

-leaves as soon as possible

Liu

-he is… he is not happy.

-he didnt want to come, he knew he wouldn't have fun, yet he was talked into coming.

-he isnt a fan of everyone shouting and playing loud music and using drugs, he just wanted to have a relaxing evening with friends

-he sleeps in a sweater and shorts, and he brings a change of clothes for the morning

-he just watches lets plays on his phone while hiding somewhere thats quiet and no one can find him

-he ends up not falling asleep at all, despite trying REALLY HARD to

-”god damn i actually WANT to ‘go to sleep’ now,”

-he comes out of his hiding spot briefly to eat whatever they ordered and instantly goes back to hide

-hes got a blanket and pillows, and he is cozy in his corner, and thats the best he can do

-he is pissy when he does interact with the others, he just doesn't get why people like to party at all

-he puts on some goth music in between lets plays and texts helen about how miserable he is and eventually goes to sit by him for a bit, and they sit quietly

[chaifootsteps]

Possible Viv testimony from a con worker, see disclaimers below

"As someone who has worked for a company that organizes cons and worked a few, I can give some insight on how it works, and a few experiences when Viv was a guest at some of our cons some of this told by my co-workers and higher ups. I can't speak for other organizers but, the one I work for, we ether invite people or we get people contacting us saying they want to be here. Which over the years, we get more people asking to attend than us having to reach out, we mostly reach out to guests of previous years now if they were a big enough hit.

From there we pick and choose based off popularity and what will drive the most people to the cons. Believe it or not, SpindleHorse reached out to us exclaiming how popular their shows are all that they want a panel. Pretty sure it was Morgana who reached out. When we look at shows or what is told to us, people reviewing don't always watch the whole thing through sometimes we will, if it's popular enough, you're in.

Usually if we notice it's adult we will ask the guest if we should make the panel 18+ only and we do vet. Like for example, hulu came to us wanting to do a Paloni Show panel before we looked into it, this was before it even aired hulu specifically told us it's 18+ they would prefer anyone under the age of 18 to stay out. 18+ panels are not only usually scheduled for the end of the day, like a late day usually 4-8pm (sometimes they aren't) depending on how crude or adult the show is. The more nsfw the show is the later your time slot. To prevent kids from attending or most likely won't. We usually list they're 18+ on the guide prior, mostly if we notice what the show is or if we're told to. Sometimes this does slip through the cracks. Usually on accident. Hulu was a rare one where they got a 2pm panel slot but, we had someone at the door checking wristbands. So it was good. Now, they work one of two ways depending on the con (ones I work at.)

Way one, if you're interested in a seeing a panel that is 18+ or mature, the only way to get in is you are given a wristband for it. The only way to get the wristband is you go to the front of the con in information tell them what you plan on seeing, we ask for your ID, then you get a wristband. Anyone without the wristband is not allowed in the panel. Sometimes even before you get on the line to wait for the panel to open they make sure you have a wristband.

Way two, we have someone checking at the door for an ID usually warned in advanced to have an ID out. It's not too effective as we don't scan the IDs people just flash it at us we can't look one by one, but usually it does keep anyone under 18 for the most part out. No kids 11 and under get in for sure.

The first time Viv was at one of our cons, it was a helluva panel, scheduled for 5:30 pm time slot. Viv complained insisting on a 1pm it was more convenient for her team. Someone allowed it, because Viv's team informed us, that while it's an adult show, the panels don't get graphic or they keep it PG or sometimes PG13 which is 'rare.' This is a lie. They played a clip of an upcoming episode right off the bat Blitzo makes a sex joke and there's a lot of language. It raised concerns after some teenagers attended the panel, got a few complaints from parents that took their teens.

Second Con of ours a different one, that approved Viv to be there enforced a later time slot no exceptions, we ask Morgana or whoever it was speaking for Viv if we should make the panel 18+ only considering the last one. They insist that it's not needed, explain what they plan on doing for it, what they'll discuss, and showed us the clip of the episode they planned on playing ahead of time. This clip was tame, it sounded like a PG-13 panel. Panel happens, they switch the clip on us last minute, Brandon takes a question too far, etc. Other cons with us we make Helluva panels later some we're able to get away enforcing 18+ some aren't due to complaints from Viv&co.

2024 hazbin comes out, they want both a Helluva and a Hazbin panel, they have not had a Hazbin panel with us, but this is around the time that one 9 year old asked a question at Galaxy Con, to protect us, we make both wristband only."

There you have it. As always, draw your own conclusions and take this with a hefty grain of salt.

[stupidr3dpanda]

I'm thinking of... BAKER!SIMON RILEY WITH A SMALL BAKERY/COFFEE SHOP!!

Who lives upstairs of the shop because it's more convenient and better than having to drive to the shop. Who wakes up every day at 5am to start the day with a warm cup of his favorite tea and heads downstairs to start preparing the ingredients, warming up the ovens and prepping doughs for that day.

From measuring ingredients, preparing his work station and organizing the tables and chairs in the shop to decorating cookies and small cakes! After 4 long hours of preparing everythig he gets ready to open the shop around 9am!

It's never too busy and never too slow, just enough for him to keep himself occupied, hes always good at memorizing his regulars orders after the first two times they come in.

Like the sweet old lady that always comes in every day at 11am sharp for a cup of earl grey and two Eclairs, always sits to enjoy the morning sun outside the shop and admire the overgrown climbing roses bushes that are starting to take over the right wall of the shop and half of the display window on the same side, she always recommends him a gardener that could help trim it down enough to make the shop look prettier at a good price, but he always forgets to call.

Or the always tired looking mom that comes in all Fridays around 2pm with her two little kids, always orders a double expresso for her and one strawberry smoothie with a banana muffin for each of the two boys, boys that normally would make a scene on every shop they go, except for Simons shop. She doesnt have to know that the reason they behave during their visit to the shop is because of a little conversation that simon had with the two kids when she wanted to use the bathroom ok their first visit. He's not having two little rascals ruin the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of his shop! Nope! Not on his watch!

And then, there's you, the quiet girl that comes in every business day at 5pm an hour before closing time, when the shop is always empty, always orders a simple latte and a slice of strawberry shortcake with a low and timid voice, who always avoids eye contact at all cost, and who always sits in the farder corner of the shop to eat quietly with a note book open on the table and a pen in hand.

He wonders what is it that you write so much about, is it the taste of the latte? The taste of the cake? Is the frosting too sweet today? Is the latte too bitter? Too sweet? Are you one of those girls that monitor everything they eat throughout the day? He's always trying to convince himself that he doesn't care! He shouldn't care! Who cares what you think! He doesn't what do you mean? He couldn't care a flying pig about you!!...

He does care, he wants to go up to you and ask what you think of the cake, did you enjoy your latte? Do you come here after work? What are you writing about? He feels like a teenager, a pathetic teenager with a stupid crush, he's dying to talk to you but. You're always turning down every attempt he makes of conversation, always keeping your answers short and simple. He supposes it's because you are timid or probably because you already have a boyfriend and are just trying to turn off any ideas he might have in his head. So he's just happy to admire you from afar, just a mere spectator to your life.

At 5:45pm he watches as you stand up from your table and starts walking to the exit, his heart sinking knowing the shop would be closed the next two days and he won't be able to see you. But he suppose he can wait.

At 6pm the "OPEN" sign on the front door of the shop is turned to "CLOSED" and the doors get locked up, he cleans the tables and chairs, heads to the kitchen to start cleaning and putting away equipment and any left over pastries and ingredients.

After everything is back under control at around 9pm with a tired sigh he heads back upstairs to start prepping dinner for himself, with a filled stomach and what's left of a beer in hand he sits on the couch while a crappy TV show is playing.

Once exhaustion starts taking over his body he turns off the TV and pets Riley's head on his way to the bathroom for a quick shower, after he's done he heads to his bedroom and changes into some comfortable pajamas, goes to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water to take his vitamins and finally heads back to his bedroom to lay in bed making sure his glasses are beside him on the little nightstand at the other side of his bed, turning off the light in the same nightstand he pulls the covers over his body and slowly drifts to a deep sleep with the image of you lulling him to sleep.

You give thanks to whoever God it may correspond for remembering to change his vitamins for sleeping pills, cause if not he would have been immediately woken up by the weird sound that comes out of your mouth after hitting your head on the window while trying to get in. You know you should be an expert at this point but that stupid window seems to have some kind of bef with you since day one!

As you make yourself inside the all familiar living room you crunch down to pat Riley on the head and give the dog one of those sweet dog treats from inside your bag. Hearing her make what you assume is a content sound while eating the treat you stand up and lay down on his couch and hug one of the decorative pillows on your side, his couch is comfy, but his bed is so much more comfortable.

You stay there for a few moments before standing up and walking down the hall to his bedroom, as you slowly open the door you see him gently snoring on his bed, so deep in slumber that he doesn't feel nor hears the noises your shoes make when you head towards his bathroom that's located in the same room, you look for his laundry basket and a small smile is painted on your face when you see it in the same spot behind the closet of the bathroom, you take out the hoodie he was wearing that same day and bring it to your nose taking a deep inhale of his essence, the sweat and cologne mixing itself in the said hoodie leave a sweet smell that makes your cunt clench round nothing, it's so intoxicating you can't help but bring your fingers down to the inside of your panties and make small circles around your poor clit.

Thinking what it would feel like if it were his fingers going in and out of your wet cunt, you think of what he would do if he were to catch you right now. Yell at you for being a creep? Call the police? Be disgusted you are satisfying yourself with his dirty clothes? Or perhaps, he would like. Tell you how dirty and pathetic you are, bend you over his knees with your ass and cunt exposed to the cold air of his room while he spanks the living hell out of you. Maybe finger you while he's at it? Always bringing you to the edge and never letting you cum, dirty sluts don't deserve to cum. Or maybe he would be understanding, oh you poor girl, if you wanted him to fuck you you could have just asked him to! No need to hide away and get off his dirty laundry and your little fingers when he's right here to give you the real thing!

Just that thought brings you to your sweet and needed release. You take your fingers out of you and for a moment you think of just washing your hands but another thought stops you and brings a smile to your face.

Once his hoodie is back in the basket you make your way to his bed, where he's sleeping like a newborn, innocently and unaware of the crime that just happened in his bathroom with his hoodie being the poor victim.

There's enough space in the bed for you to lay day beside him and the pills are strong enough to not have him wake up when your weight sinks in the mattress. His pillowcases smell like sweat and the pine spice of his shampoo, probably because he always goes to bed with his hair wet, his covers smell like old laundry and sweat too, they're already in need of a wash, last time he washed his bed linen was a month ago.

You scoop over until you're face to face with him and your eyes trace his all too familiar face, you bring your fingers to his lips and gently stroke his lower lip, remembering how soft his lips feel when you gently place your lips yo his. Your hand moves and the back of your fingers start to move slow circles on his right cheek, after that you just stay still watching him sleep peacefully until you yourself start to get tired that's always your cue to leave, not without giving him a last pick on his lips and standing up to leave.

As you make your way out you give one more treat to Riley and gentle pat on the head before looking around making sure everything is in its place like it was before and you leave through the same window you came in making sure not to hit your head again and to close it like it was.

In the afternoon of the next day when Simon is half way of doing chores around the house and while he's doing his laundry he finds his hoodie with some strange looking stains that weren't there the day before when he took his shower. Maybe he accidentally stained it while making dinner, perhaps when he was working decorating the cakes with the frosting? Yeah that's probably it, given that the strange looking stains smell a little strange almost sweetly. He just shrugs and throws it in the washer, he still has chores to finish and he's not about to play detective for a simple frosting stain.

Ughf! This thing has been invading my mind and I had to share the thought! I love pathetic and obsessed reader 👉👈

Let me know what you think! I hope you're having a good day/night and please remember to take care of yourself!!

[smaragdine-snz]

Streamer AU D/ick Gr/ay/son Sickfic

I am not bothering to // the rest of the fic. If it escapes snzblr, fine. I am too lazy for this shit. Anyway, here is Dick with a cold + OC Amelia because for me mentally doing character design if fun and using an OC means I get to make my own canon for her. Woo!

Prompt based on a combination of a prompt from @ Lyritha and a snzario from @mew31

CW: Mess, Cold Sneezes, Sneezed On, Coughing

If you need something else tagged/listed, please let me know. I am new to this! Anyway, have fun.

For more of Richard or for more DCU characters, tags for future writing will be Sick Grayson or DCU Flu (even if not specifically illness, just for my own organizing purposes).

Everyone loved Dick Grayson. Almost.

He bore all the qualities of a natural leader with his charismatic and friendly nature, boundless optimism, and infuriatingly good looks. Those on his team would say he was the only valid choice for raid leader in the party. A skilled tank player, a respected member of the community, a successful streamer. Perfect. Popular. Beloved by all.

All except one. One teammate who met him with disdain and hostility at every turn. One teammate who disregarded every olive branch extended to her. Nothing he said, nothing he did, made a difference. It reached the point of tension where his viewers started to ship them with one another, to the infuriation of his teammate. Her viewers merely seemed to think of him as a pest.

A lesser man would have let it be. Maybe he should have let it be. But Dick Grayson was not a quitter. And something about today felt different. He had been on a roll since he woke up, the day as smooth as silk from the moment his eyes opened to see the morning sun shining through his window.

NIGHTWING: Hey. Wanna do dailies? Just us. You can keep the loot.

His eyes followed the letters as he typed, watching his screen with a small flutter of trepidation.

He had no reason to be nervous, none at all. No sensible explanation for being so invested in just getting a response, any response. Most days, his DMs were ignored.

SUNKILLER: Busy tonight. Tomorrow?

NIGHTWING: “I have a 24hr charity livestream tomorrow. Offering to join me?”

SUNKILLER: Fine. What time?

His jaw nearly dropped as the words appeared on his screen. She agreed, readily? No sarcasm, no snark? Was she sick? Did she need money? Was the end of the world approaching and he just missed all the warning signs?

NIGHTWING: Starts at 2pm. Try not to be late!

It seemed better not to question it. If he asked if she was certain, it gave her the opportunity to change her mind or quip back with something like ‘of course not, dumbass, did you really think I’d join you?’ or some other hope shattering statement. Excitement had his heart racing. Perhaps he could trust his gut feeling. Perhaps this meant progress. Could he finally be winning her over?

Luck abandoned him the next morning.

The alarm clock roused him from his sleep. Blinking away the haze as he sat up, Dick groaned. His body ached, muscles heavy and unresponsive. A dull ache throbbed in the back of his throat with every swallow and mumbled complaint as he pushed himself out of his bed. He could feel congestion in the back of his nose, faint but present.

He had no time to be sick, not today. The twenty-four-hour charity livestream happened to be a big deal. After promoting it as much as he had to try and get as much interest as possible, wanting to blow the set donation goal out of the water, the last thing he wanted to do was call it off. Not only would it let his audience down, it would let the charity down. Plus, he’d finally gotten his raid teammate to agree to join him one on one for some game time.

He just had to not be sick.

So, he stuck to the plan and figured he could just ignore it. Banners and graphics galore decorated his setup, the timer to start the twenty-four-hour countdown in the corner just beneath his camera feed. A meter to track donations decorated a separate monitor. Chat started buzzing with excitement before he turned the camera on, watching his “Starting Soon!” screen with anticipation.

His post last night before bed about getting Sunkiller to join him broke his chat. The messages flooding the screen seemed torn between optimism and teasing.

REDRIDINHOOD [MOD]: Dude, are you sure she’s not just screwing with you?

LIGHTSHOW: This is awesome, Sun’s finally giving you the time of day! Shoot your shot, man!

SHARKNADO72: Nightwing is a masochist, confirmed? 24 hour enemies to lovers speedrun.

CYPHERPYSCHO: Romantic relations with one bearing the word ‘Killer’ in her name is ill-advised, Richard.

IC33POP: She’s so pretty! Ship it!

He turned his camera feed on with an eye roll at the comments section, just in time for Amelia to join the call. Clearing his throat in an attempt to sound normal and not like he spent the morning intermittently sniffling; Dick plastered his signature grin on his face.

“Ready to get started, Sun?” his voice came through a bit raspier than he would have liked, but his smile did not waver. “I was going to do a bunch of solo story games but since you’re here, I changed the line-up to some co-op games. Starting with It Takes Two.”

He could see her on the camera, her eyes shifting to the side to look at his video for a moment before returning to look at her primary screen. He watched her lip curl, getting a flash of teeth and the subtle sound of her clicking her tongue. She knew the game in question. A pointed choice of co-op game considering how his audience felt about his involvement with her.

“Let’s get going then. Try not to slow me down,” a teasing tone crept into her voice as she spoke. “You know how I feel about losing.”

Despite the way his nose felt plugged, and his throat ached, his excitement reigned supreme. It overshadowed the feeling of illness creeping through him, at first. As hours ticked by, he could no longer manage to hide it when he cleared his sore throat to try ridding himself of the hoarse, congested tone from his voice. His sniffles, increasingly pronounced, started garnering attention from the chat as thin streams of mucus dripped from his pink nose and glistened in the light. His nostrils flared, breath hitching as he turned his attention back to Amelia.

“Cad you – snrff. I need you to go to the other side of the gap and stay on the pressure plate, I think. Please?” he flashes a charming smile toward the camera, hoping to distract from how awful that sniffle sounded.

“Sure. Are you feeling okay, Nightwing?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course. I’b fide…Hh-hH–! NGKssHHHhuhw!!”

He lost control of the sneeze he wanted so badly to contain, his head diving into his elbow as he covered it. The crook of his elbow, now covered in a wet spray, stayed well below the view of the camera as he repositioned himself, a faint flush to his cheeks as he looked at his screens to gauge the reaction of both Amelia and his chat.

REDRIDINHOOD [MOD]: Get a tissue, dickwad, gross!

BLUDPR1NC355: Aww, bby, are you getting sick??

Apart from his brother, kind comments were flooding in, thousands of viewers blessing him or expressing concern for his wellbeing. Pointing out how pale he looked, how red his nose had gotten, or the constant sniffling he thought he had been subtle about.

Sheepishly glancing at Amelia’s video, he silently pleaded she would not be disgusted by him. Her in-game character jumped the gap and stood on the pressure plate just as he requested, but he noticed that she kept glancing at him. The way she stared, eyes narrowing every time he sniffled or fought back a sneeze. Though she made no comment on his health, her responses to him seemed a little softer.

After a few more hours of her ignoring his suffering and his chat fussing over his health, Dick could no longer breathe through his nose. His sneezes had only worsened, becoming wetter and more frequent. His body lurched towards the camera as a pathetic attempt at rubbing his nose only served to make everything ten times worse, causing his sneezes to tear through him.

“Hh…Heh'KSHht! —kSHh! H-hihh! Hih'KTCHh! Ugh…hh! HT’TSCHh! t’CHSHh!-’itschh!–ihHK’TSCh’uh!”

He ignored the chat for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He covered most of them, but there were still droplets of spray on the camera lens. Wiping them off with the hem of his sleeve, he reached for the tissue box he grabbed during their last bathroom break, only for his fingers to touch the cardboard bottom. Empty.

Through the haze of congestion in his head, and as he sniffled in a futile attempt to contain the flood of mucus dripping from his nose, he heard a little ping! Someone sent him a DM. Pinching his nose while he read it, he couldn’t stop the look of surprise from flashing across his face.

SUNKILLER: DM me your address and I’ll order you some soup. You are not okay.

NIGHTWING: I’m fine, really! Don’t worry about it.

The congested laugh of shock turned into a wet cough, betraying the lie instantly.

SUNKILLER: Liar. Hurry up.

NIGHTWING: Fine, fine. Here you go.

He sent her his address, smiling as he watched her on the camera. With nine hours out of the twenty-four-hour stream already out of the way, and there had been no hostility. One on one, it felt like the person on the other end of the call was a completely different person. He had her perspective of the stream up on another monitor, his eyes scanning her chat.

SP00KYGALZ [MOD]: Mel, what are you writing? I can hear your pen.

K1LLERQUEEN: He’s so pathetic looking today, it’s hot.

GOTHIKAT [MOD]: You’re plotting something. It never ends well when you do that.

SUNNY2881: The NightSun shippers are having a field day in his chat, girl.

LUCIFURR: Lol why wouldn’t they? Queen Mel is hot, he’s hot.

MAGNIFIQUE: You’re being so nice to him today! What happened? Pity party or do we like him now?

He nearly laughed, but a choked cough came out instead, prompting a fit of them as he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt. Watery eyes squeezed shut, shoulders trembling, and throat on fire, he continued to be distracted by his coughing until he heard the familiar ping of his DMs again.

SUNKILLER: You should just cancel. You sound awful.

NIGHTWING: The donations are going to help a lot of people. I can last fifteen more hours!

SUNKILLER: Then change of plans. You have an extra controller at your place?

NIGHTWING: Yeah, why? Coming over?

SUNKILLER: Yes. You won’t cancel the stream? Fine. We can keep playing this game on your couch. Deal?

NIGHTWING: Sure. Come by whenever.

The words he typed came out so casually, but his heartbeat almost stalled. Her chat was right. She was being a lot nicer to him. He barely registered her voice on the stream again, Amelia announcing that the stream would be switching gears and that they were going to continue the game on his couch after she picked up some things for him. Both chats exploded into a frenzy of activity, but Dick was too busy trying to be discreet about wiping his nose on his sleeve to notice.

“Hh… h'ngtchh! Eberyode, I’b deed a few to mbove by setup,” he set his stream to the break screen as he glanced blearily back at Amelia’s stream on the monitor, standing up to start moving the lights and the cameras over to his couch and TV before prepping the game on the console.

The scenery around Amelia kept moving and the video quality changed, showing glimpses of her actions. Snippets of her apartment. A streak of black as she tugged on some shoes. The sound of an engine starting up. Her viewers must be looking through her helmet camera, for the motorcycle videos she sometimes made. The camera only showed her dashboard and a snippet of road as she drove. Luckily for him, she kept the commentary going on his behalf until she walked into… a grocery store?

“Abelia, whadt are you doing?” he unmuted the microphone, leaning in as his voice came out as little more than a congested croak.

“Picking you up some things, like I said. What do you need, Richard? More tissues, cough drops? Soup?”

“Uhhg, mbore tissues. Mbedicide. I’ll take adythihgg,” he must have missed it when she told the stream she was going to get things at the store for him, but at this point he certainly couldn’t say no. 

Picking up various products off the shelves, Amelia took the time to show Dick each item and let him choose what he wanted. As the number of things in her grocery basket grew, so did the number of comments on the stream about their situation. Things like ‘how domestic!’ or ‘I feel like I’m intruding lol’ peppered the chat. Not wanting her to get annoyed by how intent the viewers had become on trying to label their relationship, not after he only just got her to drop some of her walls around him, Dick hurried to finish moving his streaming setup.

It took her twenty minutes to get to his house. He knew they lived in the same city, but never expected anything would come of it. Until now, with Amelia standing in his living room as he hunkered down on the couch. Blowing his nose with a fresh tissue from the box she purchased, he could not tear his eyes away as she flitted around his apartment like some sort of fairy godmother. She put a thermos of soup on the coffee table for him along with a bottle of DayQuil and some tea, oranges for snacking on, several boxes of tissues, a bag of cough drops, and even some extra blankets.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” she picked up his spare controller, settling in on the couch right beside him.

Part of him expected her to sit further away. She needed to be close enough to stay within frame of the camera, but their shoulders were touching. Closer than necessary. The warmth of her arm against him, seeping through the fabric of his shirt, was tantalizing. He could only offer a nod, picking up his own controller and resuming the game.

The DayQuil helped… marginally. Not as much as Dick hoped it would.

“Ih'shiuhh! Ih’TSHh! ItcSHsSHew!” The sneezes filled his tissue, a grimace on his face as he threw it away only to realize it had leaked through onto his hand.

Groaning and wiping his hand clean with another tissue, he leaned further back against the couch. His body slumped to the side slightly, seeking the warm presence of the woman beside him. He felt her shift, inching closer to him as if understanding what he needed.

“Hey, Richard? Can I hijack your stream for a little while?” her tone lacked all of the sarcasm it usually held, with her carefully taking the controller out of his hands and setting it down on the coffee table. “Maybe we can do a Q&A.”

“Huh? Sure, I’bm dowd. Ng'TCHht!”

An attempt was made to stifle his sneeze against her shoulder without Dick realizing what he had done. More followed suit.

“Heh'ESHHuh! Heh'KSHihh! Ugh…”

Afterward, sniffling and blowing his nose into a tissue after he pulled away from her, he noticed the prominent smear of his mucus that remained wet against the fabric of her jacket.

“I'b sorry Abelia, I didd't mbead to. Hold od,” he mumbles, getting up without giving her any time to protest.

He disappeared down the hallway into his room, rummaging in his dresser. Harsh coughs left him breathless and unsteady as he made his way back toward the couch, holding one of his hoodies in his hand. Setting it down in Amelia’s lap, he offered what he hoped looked like a confident smile.

“You should borrow this, sidce I god yours dirty.”

“Thank you, Ri—Dick,” she corrected herself while taking off her soiled jacket, using his nickname for the first time since they met.

Tugging the hoodie over her head, she folded her jacket and set it down on the floor before shifting closer to him yet again. She invited the viewers to start submitting questions for the Q&A portion of the stream while tugging a blanket over the two of them, her arm wrapping around his waist underneath it. A startled look flashed across his face, but he felt too awful to question it. He pressed himself into her side, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Questiod twedty. Why were the two of you always arguigg?” Dick read aloud, after blowing his nose for the umpteenth time, only to stare at Amelia expectantly.

“Oh. That. That was my fault. He just seemed too enthusiastic all the time, I thought he was faking it. It made me feel guilty for not always being in a good mood. Wondering why I couldn’t just be more like him, why did I have to let things get to me? So, I got frustrated. But he really is just that kind of person, and it is hard to stay mad when he’s just trying to be friendly. Besides… now I know he isn’t flawless all the time. He really is human,” she laughed, but it sounded somewhat forced and her tone was… apologetic. “I’m sorry, Dick. For being difficult.”

“You dod't have to aAhh- hahh…Heh'ESHHuh! Apologize,” he buried his face against her side, a soft moan escaping him as his sniffling did nothing to staunch the flow of mucus. “I already forgave you.”

The viewer’s questions felt endless as he leaned firmly against Amelia, her arms wrapped around him almost protectively. The heat of her body against him felt warm and comforting, soothing the chill that plagued him. The stream would be over soon. He only needed to make it for a few more minutes. His body, however, had other plans.

“Hhht’khschh! Hh…Heh'KSHht! Ngh…” the sneezes refused to abate as Dick shuddered in Amelia’s arms, her hand coming to hold a tissue against his nose for him.

She held him a bit tighter, one hand firmly grasping the tissue and the other rubbing his back. His own hands gripped the blanket as if hanging on for dear life, his entire body shaking against hers with each wet sneeze. The chat, the cameras, the stream… it faded into the background, Amelia focused solely on him. When he caught his breath, she tilted his chin up to get a good look at him.

Dick gazed back at her through watery eyes, tears smeared across his cheeks. He felt her thumb brush over his skin, wiping away a few. Her palm cupped his face, and he leaned into the soft touch, bringing his own up to tuck a loose section of hair behind her ear.

“Are you alright?” came the hushed whisper as Amelia leaned in closer to him, resting her forehead against his and feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

“Doh, but it’s fide.”

She studied him, watching his chest rise and fall with each congested breath. His lips stayed parted; Dick unable to breathe through his nose at all. A smile still played upon them, but his eyes seemed unfocused, roaming around her face and yet always settling back on her mouth.

“Do you… want me to kiss you?” she murmured, letting a finger trace his lips.

“God, yes,” he breathed, eyes fluttering closed when she moved closer to him.

A quiet groan rumbled from his throat the moment he felt her soft lips press against his, leaning into it as one hand tangled in her hair. The world around him melted away, letting him forget for just a moment how awful he truly felt.

Until chat exploded.

Banners and sound effects created a cacophony in the room, snapping the two out of the moment they so nearly lost themselves in. Comments flooded in at breakneck speeds, the text moving up the screen too quickly for Dick to process a single word said. But Amelia just pulled him closer, kissing him again while her fingers pressed the power button on the camera.

Stream Disconnected. Twenty-four-hours complete. 

~ Bonus ~

The door opened near silently, Jason’s steps filled with the intent not to disturb. He missed the end of the stream due to work matters, leaving a different sibling to take over moderator duties (thanks, Tim). Now, he merely wanted to confirm his older brother didn’t collapse on the floor or miraculously die in the night. 

But he heard about what happened. Anyone who followed Dick or Amelia’s socials knew what happened. 

Unable to help the smirk stuck to his face, even with no one around to see it, Jason made his way to the living room. The cameras were off, but had not been put away. Blankets lay strewn over the back of the couch, and there was a small trash next to a tied off bag of used tissues. Someone had emptied it but not taken the bag down to the dumpsters yet. Nonetheless, the fact Dick was not passed out on the living room floor or asleep on the couch seemed to be a good sign. 

He made his way down the hall, the sounds of congested snoring growing louder as he approached Dick’s bedroom. The door, left open, did nothing to muffle the sound. Pressing onward out of a mixture of curiosity and the desire to be able to tease his brother, Jason peered into the bedroom. 

Out cold on his back with his limbs splayed like some undignified starfish, Dick’s head lolled sideways, his face partially buried in the curtain of Amelia’s dark hair. His mouth hung open, drooling in the depth of his sleep. His nose, redder than the night before, pressed against the top of Amelia’s head as it oozed, coating the strands of her hair. 

Gross. 

Her face stayed buried in the crook of his neck, her arm draped over chest. She wore the hoodie Dick let her borrow during the stream, along with… ah, yes – Dick’s boxers. 

It took a great deal of self-control for Jason not to laugh at the absurdity of it. Instead, he chose to preserve this moment… and give him something to harass Dick about when his brother woke up. Silently, he snapped a photo of the two of them together and left, texting the image to Dick without another word. 

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 79)

Alexia Putellas x Character (35) - Ridley Part One

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**4.5k**))

This is PART ONE of TWO for Ridley. You DO NOT have to read this! This is simply me getting out what's been in my head for a while about Ridley and her darker side and military ties. Although this one isn't bad at all, part two will be a lot more graphic and morally grey.

Any Australian military mentions such as squadron types and specialties are 100% real and researched.

Feel free to skip these two Ridley parts as you won't be missing anything in the main story. :)

RIDLEY POV PART ONE

Ridley’s body was thrown into the straps of her five-point harness relentlessly. She was sitting in the jump seat of a C17 – a last minute military aircraft she’d caught from London to Dubai. She just needed to escape. To get far away from her in the hopes that it would stop her from hurting Alexia. She wasn’t too concerned with hurting herself.

“The CAT is easing, Commander,” came the voice of the pilot through her head set. “We’re almost through it.”

CAT – Clear Air Turbulence. Ridley was tired, but she couldn’t sleep. She was seated in the cargo hold which was devoid of any other human except herself. “Copy.”

The flight was 7 hours long, and most of it she’d spent staring a thousand-yard stare into that void of the cargo hold just thinking about her. Alexia. The way she’d whispered, moaned, begged for her. The way she felt, the way she tasted and fucking moved with her. Her sounds when she whimpered, when she’d was pushed to her limits… when she came. It had broken Ridley, like she knew it would. How could she ever want anything less than all of her after that? No, she deserved more. She deserved the whole fucking world, and not the monster she was. Alexia had no idea what she was getting herself into with her, and she needed to protect her from herself.

They landed at 2pm local time and she caught a lift into town with one of the senior ranked officers on base. Ridley was known in the military world, and she’d been around. Met a lot of people. Worked hard and climbed the ranks. She was respected for her accomplishments, and now could come and go as she pleased, as she held such a high security clearance.

“Are you sure, Commander?” The officer asked.

Ridley nodded. “Here is perfect. Thanks for the lift.”

“Give us a call if you need anything. Anything at all.”

He left and she waited for him to do so. Only when he was gone did she jump on public transport to get to where she was actually going. She was used to frequenting Dubai for a few reasons, one of which being that it was central and in her line of work, that was essential.

She exited the train and moved over to the bus line, making sure she wasn’t followed as she went. Always aware. Always watching. Avoiding cameras and drawing attention. The bus moved through six stops and she stepped off just before the doors closed. From there she walked to her destination, stopping at a café on the way to pick up some sweets. A popular local sweet dish in Dubai that she loved was knafeh, which she bought along with filled donuts which were a must.

She paid for her items, adding a bottle of water to the list and was off down the street. She arrived at her destination at around 2:45pm and stopped outside, looking up at it. It was a mechanic shop. And not just any mechanics, the best in town. Anyone who knew Dubai knew that expensive cars were a given. Almost everyone had one. And this was the place they all fought for bookings at.

She walked into the open floor planned warehouse which was lined down the outer edges with cars on different levels, each getting work done, and each more expensive than the last. Ferrari, Lamborghini, Aston Martin, Bugatti, Maserati, Rolls Royce. She walked through and acknowledged each nod she received from the people who worked there. She came upon the office of the owner and knocked twice, opening before he answered.

“Ridley!” The voice boomed. Ali was a rich man, though not the egotistical type. In fact, he was rather the opposite. Most of the money he made went straight back into humanitarian efforts and other philanthropic endeavours.

She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek as she placed the knafeh on his desk in front of him.

“For you.”

He hummed as he looked her up and down. “You seem different…” he said in a strong Arabic accent.

Of course she did. She was fucking heartbroken. Grieving. In love with Alexia and forcing herself to break her heart. Plus, she hadn’t slept in 46 hours and had been wearing the same clothes she’d thrown on hastily as she’d left her in bed 9 hours ago.

“I haven’t slept in a few days.”

“No, no. There’s something else…” he murmured, still wondering. Eventually he gave up like people usually did. Ridley was a closed book. “But alas, I think I’m tired myself. I’m guessing you’re here for that?” He asked, gesturing to the wall.

She nodded.

“I was told you weren’t coming. Are you staying for long?”

“Unsure.”

“You’re welcome as long as you’d like. Anything you need.”

Anything you need. She heard that during almost every conversation when she was in Dubai. Another reason she enjoyed the place so much.

He smiled as he opened the box and she forced herself to give one in return. It’s not that she didn’t want to – just that it was difficult to fake any sort of positive emotion at this point.

Ridley turned and moved through the second door in his office. The one that was barely used. It led to the part of the warehouse that no one was allowed to enter except Ali and a select few individuals. The individuals she was there to meet.

She entered to the darkened part of the warehouse and was greeted by four heads turning towards her with the majority of their expressions showing they were caught off guard. All except the one person standing. The big guy.

He stood in front of the trio with a projector behind him, and his hands held behind his back with discipline. Beckett. That's what everybody else called him. That or Lieutenant. To her, he was Becks.

The trio sat casually in front of him, their chairs met with desks either side for their notes and food. Their faces spread into grins as she approached, placing the donuts on the table.

“Oh no, she’s here! Fucking knew this was another BOHICA,” said the little guy known as Fuzzy. His real name was Kaupa and he was SASR for Australian Army. They all were. Together, the group was made up the Fourth Squadron of the Special Air Service Regiment, though the government had never acknowledged their existence, nor ever would.

To the public, there were four official Squadrons. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd were sabre Squadrons, made up of 20 troopers with differing expertise, and they rotated through counter terrorism/special recovery and warfighting/reconnassaince. Then there was the 152nd Squadron designed for electronic warfare and to support the sabre squadrons. There were more, of course, though these four were the basis of the SASR for Australia and were always closely supported by the Australian Secret Intelligent Service for any of their missions and activities.

Their fourth squadron was not the usual. Instead of five of each in their special fields, there was one of each. And they were the best.

First, there was the little guy, Fuzzy. He was called Fuzzy because he was born in Papua New Guinea and during WW2, the Australian soldiers in PNG named the locals the ‘Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels’ as they helped them, cared for them, gave them medical attention in support. Kaupa fit that description. He was a little loose cannon, though the best when it came to his specialty. Mountaineering and jungle warfare. You’d never even know he was there until you were dead.

The next was a typical Australian guy named Williams, though they called him Wombat. Short for eats, shits and leaves. Crass, but true. He never settled down and never slept with the same woman twice. The typical womaniser, though Ridley loved him. He was unapologetically himself and he was well aware of his shortcomings. You had to be a bit of a nutcase to be in their profession. His specialty was Airborne. He could pilot anything like Ridley, and she’d met him when they were in the Air Force together, prior to their being poached by the SASR.

The last of the trio was a woman named Morgan. Her nickname though, was Duce, short for Medusa. Why? Because she could level a man with a gaze and wasn’t there to fuck around. She was the toughest of the trio. Her specialty was Mobility. That was ground movements, land movements, logistics, terrain and sniping.

She grinned at Ridley who returned it without a second thought. These were her family away from family. The people she trusted with her life. Though she trusted no one beyond the big guy. Becks. His specialty was Water. Scuba diving, water raids, submarines, etc. They ran the Squadron together for some time and although she held a higher rank in the Air Force, they both held the same in the Army and refused to be made higher. They didn’t want a desk job or to be put in command of more platoons and squadrons. No, their job was perfect and to be quite honest, she doubted that anyone could replace any single one of them. That’s why they were so successful. That’s why everybody in that dark side of the world knew them, and yet the public never would. They did the terrible things so that people could live their lives in peace and a blind happiness.

“You always think it’s a BOHICA,” Ridley murmured as she stood next to Duce. The woman wrapped an arm around her waist and smirked up at her.

“We both know Fuzzy loves a bit of bending over and taking it.”

BOHICA: Army slang for ‘Bend over here it comes again’ i.e. we’re being fucked.

“Now, now, there’s no problem with swinging both ways,” Wombat teased with a wink. He wasn’t just a womaniser for women, that one. Wombat loved everybody.

“I didn’t think you were coming for this one, Wings.” Becks said from the front. The others went quiet. He was very well respected. They both were. And he was the only one who called her that.

She shrugged. “I was bored. Besides, I figured you’d all need the help.”

“Oh no she didn’t.” Wombat challenged and stood.

“Bad idea bad idea, Romeo will smack you down,” Fuzzy said – wanting to see the result.

“Need help huh?” He fake challenged again.

Ridley stepped forwards and got close to him. Real close. The one thing he couldn’t control with her was his dick, and she had never, nor would she ever have done anything past a friendly touch with him. So now with her so close, he froze and as her lips closed in on his, she swept his leg and shoved him hard in the chest, forcing him to fall hard on his ass on the chair.

“Keep dreaming, Wombat.”

He grinned and stuck his hands up in surrender.

Ridley took her seat near Duce and put her attention back on Becks. “The floor is yours.”

Becks started presenting their mission again, throwing her a pack to read through.

“Here’s the finer details, the basis of it is that we’ve had a task we need to complete tonight. The son of one of the biggest political figures in Dubai needs recovering. His father is of vital importance to the current political stability in the middle east. He keeps the peace between Dubai and the western countries, including Australia.”

“Where is the son?”

“Taken hostage by Somali pirates. They’re using him as a bargaining chip to have his father cut the relationship between the middle east and western countries, and also money. Lots of money.”

He wasn’t saying the full story and she knew it. “Spit it out, Becks.”

He studied her face with a neutral expression before he spoke. “Cumar has him.”

Fuck.

Cumar was one of the largest crime lords in Somalia. Up until this point, they hadn’t managed to capture or kill him. Though he had killed one of their own. One of the pilots she and Wombat had trained with. He’d killed him right in front of her as she hung from the fucking ceiling, beaten and bloody. She was lucky the group had found her in time. She had more than a few scars from that incident. That was the last time she’d disappeared from Alexia.

Cumar, however, had escaped. He was currently the most wanted man on the globe.

She turned and looked at Wombat whose jaw was locking and unlocking. James was his friend too. It was difficult to not involve emotions.

“This is not revenge,” Becks said, reading their minds. “This is an overdue extraction. He’s been with him for two weeks now.”

“Two weeks? Where the fuck are the SAS? Why didn’t they handle this?” Wombat growled. He had a point; they had a lot more riding on it.

“They’re stuck in the Ukrainian conflict, and the uprising in the middle east at the moment between Palestine and Israel.”

“Seals?”

“They tried. They lost contact with them before they even reached his base and the yanks received some… prizes in return.”

Body parts.

Cumar.

“They believe this to be impossible. They want the best.”

Silence again. They were an interesting group of personalities, though they all had that intellectual and professional persona when it was serious.

“You wouldn’t look so confident without a plan..” Ridley murmured.

“This is mainly mobility so Duce has made a plan and we need to expand on it and see if it’s viable.” They nodded. “Duce?”

They switched places, Duce taking the front and Becks sitting in the seat near Ridley. He put a hand on her shoulder briefly. That’s the most physical affection he tended to show, though it meant everything.

“I’ve been liaising closely with ASIS and we believe his location to be here,” she said, pointing to an area on the map. She spoke of the location, identified the hazards and from the intelligence they were given, where their security were posted. They all listened carefully, adding their expertise here and there to overcome each of the potential issues that were already onsite or that may arise at some point as they made their detailed extraction plan. As they were talking – Ridley knew that coming here had been the right choice. Sure, she hadn’t slept in two days, but this… this was distracting. It was the only thing that could have distracted her from the thought of Alexia.. the softness of her skin… the feel of her hands tangled with her own as she fucked her from-

“Romes?”

Ridley looked up and Duce smiled. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were tired.”

“Mmnhmn.”

“We were talking about this. This is where we believe the Seals had an issue. They chuted in but their carrier was spotted and fired upon. From there, they were already dead, it was just a matter of picking them off when they touched ground. There’s this strip here that we’ve noted which may potentially be large enough to land at…”

“If their carrier was spotted then engine noise is our other issue,” Wombat said before turning to Ridley. “Can we glide in?”

Wombat was a fucking good pilot. But he knew what he was asking was dangerous and beyond anything he’d done before. Ridley had much more experience testing the limitations of aircraft and maximising the efficiency of an aircraft within the relative airflow.

She stood and Duce automatically stepped aside. Ridley pulled up the live map of the landing strip, she checked the wind, the cloud levels, the distance to the first potential group of people who may hear them. She’d need to shut down engines early… though from the look of the air pressure and wind…

“It’s dangerous. It has the potential to go very, very wrong. But it’s not impossible. With the weight of everybody here… we can use a plane small enough for the strip. It’s a full moon with direct contact to the strip so we will have okay visibility without lights when we go engines out. We can pull lighting just as we come down to flare, the trees will cover it by then. The biggest issue is getting an aircraft with an incredibly high aspect ratio. Think gliders… with an engine.”

“What’s the range needed?” Wombat asked.

“If we get approval to base and depart from Mandy Bay… the round trip will be around 1000 nautical miles.”

“So… bladder tank.”

She nodded. “Definitely. We’ll calculate the fuel needed for the return before we land and dump the excess fuel for weight as we glide in.”

“Do we have contacts in Kenya?” Becks asked.

“I do,” Wombat nodded. “I have a guy who’ll have the aircraft we need. I’ll make a call.”

Becks nodded and turned back to Ridley. “We can do this?”

“I’ll need to monitor every and all weather changes, but for now, it will work. The strip is north east facing, directly into the forecasted wind. It’s also almost the perfect amount of headwind for the direction we hit it, and it’ll give us a bit of leeway too. Cumar’s location is north. It’ll be hard to hear us as we’ll be downwind of where they are. I’m thinking we can switch off the engine a little later than anticipated because of it. It may end up being a bit of a crash landing, though, depending.”

Duce chuckled and Fuzzy scoffed. “It’s all been crash landings with Wombat since you’ve changed to coming and going as you please. How’s life as a civvy?”

Civvy – a civilian. She rolled her eyes and ignored the attempt to get a reaction from her.

“Happy with the risk?” She asked.

Becks nodded and stood, offering a hand. He wasn’t big on physical affection, though this was a treat. She clapped hands with his large, rough one.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wings.” He was the only one to call her Wings, and she the only one to call him Becks. Their own little way of showing their respect.

“Me too,” she smiled. She was glad she’d come, knowing that she was the only one who could land this.

“But you’re sleeping on the cargo plane before we arrive.”

To anyone else, they would have taken that as an order. Although she’d moved to part time, coming and going when she wanted, it still didn’t take away her rank or the respect they had for her. Beckett always treated her like an equal, although he was technically the sole squadron leader now. She listened to him talk about sleep though, and she knew it was coming from a caring place. He wanted her safe. And the group. Fatigue was a liability.

“Wilco.”

An hour later, they were on another military aircraft to Kenya. Ridley had found a medevac stretcher and had settled there with her jacket over her eyes. She slept through the flight and only woke as they touched down. The landing gear hit the runway and she jolted upright automatically awake. Fuzzy looked at her and gave a somewhat sad smile. They all tended to have those reactions, after what they’d seen. And although the PTSD was mild and well managed with therapy – they all knew they were stuck with it for the rest of their lives.

They stepped outside to a bright moonlit night at the US military base of Mandy Bay, Kenya. Flying backwards, they’d gained an hour, as it was only 8pm. They were greeted by officers and taken straight to their prep room. Ridley and Wombat detoured on their way to scout the plane they were to use and made sure it was satisfactory for the job.

“Happy?” He asked as he inspected a prop.

She nodded from her place under the wing. “This will work.”

“How much fuel, Commander?” The US officer asked from his ladder. He was filling the bladder tank in the back of the aircraft.

“Hold five. And move it more central for our weight and balance. We can’t have an aft centre of gravity with the structure of this.”

“Yes, Commander.”

 As he and another soldier moved the bladder tank more central under Wombat’s supervision, Ridley took out her tablet and double and triple checked her flight plans with the updated forecast of winds and weather.

“I need full wing tanks and that bladder with an extra 280 litres. I’m going in to prep. Standby in case the winds change before we leave.”

“Affirm - full wing tanks and 280 litres in the bladder.”

Their prep took hours – as it should. They were very, very thorough. It was rare they were ever caught out by surprises or unplanned events. They collected their packs, their weapons, and ran through their strategies with updated intelligence. Whatever happened – they didn’t exist. She wondered what Alexia and Blue would be told if she weren’t to come back. If she were to be killed. To be fair, she just wanted them both safe and happy. And then her will would provide the extra cushion of financial support for them.

Their off-blocks time was 10pm. They flew straight north, following the coast as the moon reflected the waves below. They flew high enough to not be heard, yet low enough to not be seen. There was a single road that ran across the border of Kenya, into Somalia and towards their target. It looked empty from above, yet they all knew better. There were definitely more of Cumar’s people checkpointing the road. Duce had intelligence on a few areas to expect them should they have to escape via road, though not all of them.

Being stuck in a situation where they couldn’t be seen or heard to approach, it meant they needed to conduct a non-conventional approach to the landing strip over water. This was to avoid the noise over the land. Ridley dropped them low over the ocean and joined an extended base for the strip. In the moonlight, they spotted it, but barely.

“Engines out is final.” She reminded. “We won’t be attempting to restart and we will be landing, regardless.”

“Affirm,” Wombat agreed from the right seat.

As they approached the height of engine out, he started to read her airspeed and altitude. This was the most difficult part by far.

“On spec… on spec… plus 4 on slope… plus 7 on slope… plus 10 on slope…”

Ridley had purposely increased her approach speed to compensate for the upcoming lack of power.

“Plus 15, plus 50…. 200 above engine out… plus 20, plus 80… 100 above engine out… 50 above engine out.”

“Established. Engines out.” She directed.

“Copy – engines out. Engine 1…”

Wombat shut down the first engine and Ridley compensated for the yaw with her foot pressed hard into the rudder.

“Feather engine 1.”

“Feathering engine 1…” The pressure needed from her leg eased as it feathered. “Engine 1 feathered. Engine 2 out…” He said with his hand on the second throttle.

“Affirm, engine 2 out.”

Wombat shut down the second engine, cutting the mixture and all went silent. They were gliding.

She compensated for the tiniest bit of yaw before, “Feather engine 2.”

“Feathering engine 2…” The need for rudder was eliminated until it was just to account for the wind. “Engine 2 feathered.”

“Gliding, lights out.”

“On speed, 50 below.”

He read her speeds and altitudes all the way down the approach, as was usual for a multi-crew environment. She checked her fuel and was satisfied with the remaining amount.

“Dump the bladder.”

Becks, Fuzzy and Duce dumped the bladder tank from the aircraft which made it lighter and put her back on slope.

“On spec.”

She’d adjusted perfectly for the engine outs and the weight loss from the bladder, and she could hear it in Wombat’s voice.

“Wind 030 at 15.”

She’d noticed the wind had shifted to a slight crosswind, though it was manageable. It was more difficult with a high aspect ratio of course. Longer wings means more area for the crosswind to push, though she worked the rudder and ailerons to crab into the landing strip.

“300 above. On spec…. minimums…”

“Continue.”

“200 above on spec. Lights on?”

“No until the flare,” she murmured. The trees were lower than she’d expected, and didn’t want to risk the lights being seen. “Lights at 70.”

“Affirm.”

“100 above.”

They were only 100 feet above the ground and descending at a rate that would result in disaster. But that’s exactly where she wanted to be.

“70 feet, lights.” Wombat said – powering the lights.

Ridley had a split second of vision to flare relative to the ground. She did so and held pressure back on the yoke, not having to compensate for the wind that was now blocked by the tree line. She held back pressure until the mains touched, and slowed with brakes until she could let the nose wheel down.

“Lights off.”

“Lights off.”

They went back to darkness, moonlight only, though that was enough. Ridley made the most out of the momentum of the aircraft to roll it to the far end of the strip and pumped the right brake in stages to turn them back around near the tree line. Ready for a quick getaway.

They stopped and parked there, pulling the park brakes on. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“That was fucking extraordinary.” Duce said, speaking for the others. She leapt out first, with her pack and rifles.

Fuzzy tapped her shoulder in thanks on his way out also. “Missed you.”

Wombat gave her a grin. “You’ll always upstage me, huh?”

“Someone needs to keep you on your toes.” She shrugged as she took her headset off.

He leapt out and she went to follow suit when Becks murmured from behind her. “There will never be another you, Wings.”

The highest of Becks compliments. She didn’t have time to respond before he was out on the ground.

Ridley slipped out last, hitting the floor harder than usual with the weight of her pack. Now they were in Cumar’s territory. Any step could be their last.

All of the group were hyper focused on their surroundings and automatically took up positions where their backs were to each other, protecting each other. Regardless - Ridley hadn’t even had a chance to join when she felt a body against her back, and a knife pressed so hard into her stomach that it pierced through flesh.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

As someone who has worked for a company that organizes cons and worked a few, I can give some insight on how it works, and a few experiences when Viv was a guest at some of our cons some of this told by my co-workers and higher ups. I can't speak for other organizers but, the one I work for, we ether invite people or we get people contacting us saying they want to be here. Which over the years, we get more people asking to attend than us having to reach out, we mostly reach out to guests of previous years now if they were a big enough hit. From there we pick and choose based off popularity and what will drive the most people to the cons. Believe it or not, SpindleHorse reached out to us exclaiming how popular their shows are all that they want a panel. Pretty sure it was Morgana who reached out. When we look at shows or what is told to us, people reviewing don't always watch the whole thing through sometimes we will, if it's popular enough, you're in. Usually if we notice it's adult we will ask the guest if we should make the panel 18+ only and we do vet. Like for example, hulu came to us wanting to do a Paloni Show panel before we looked into it, this was before it even aired hulu specifically told us it's 18+ they would prefer anyone under the age of 18 to stay out. 18+ panels are not only usually scheduled for the end of the day, like a late day usually 4-8pm (sometimes they aren't) depending on how crude or adult the show is. The more nsfw the show is the later your time slot. To prevent kids from attending or most likely won't. We usually list they're 18+ on the guide prior, mostly if we notice what the show is or if we're told to. Sometimes this does slip through the cracks. Usually on accident. Hulu was a rare one where they got a 2pm panel slot but, we had someone at the door checking wristbands. So it was good. Now, they work one of two ways depending on the con (ones I work at.)

Way one, if you're interested in a seeing a panel that is 18+ or mature, the only way to get in is you are given a wristband for it. The only way to get the wristband is you go to the front of the con in information tell them what you plan on seeing, we ask for your ID, then you get a wristband. Anyone without the wristband is not allowed in the panel. Sometimes even before you get on the line to wait for the panel to open they make sure you have a wristband.

Way two, we have someone checking at the door for an ID usually warned in advanced to have an ID out. It's not too effective as we don't scan the IDs people just flash it at us we can't look one by one, but usually it does keep anyone under 18 for the most part out. No kids 11 and under get in for sure.

The first time Viv was at one of our cons, it was a helluva panel, scheduled for 5:30 pm time slot. Viv complained insisting on a 1pm it was more convenient for her team. Someone allowed it, because Viv's team informed us, that while it's an adult show, the panels don't get graphic or they keep it PG or sometimes PG13 which is 'rare.' This is a lie. They played a clip of an upcoming episode right off the bat Blitzo makes a sex joke and there's a lot of language. It raised concerns after some teenagers attended the panel, got a few complaints from parents that took their teens.

Second Con of ours a different one, that approved Viv to be there enforced a later time slot no exceptions, we ask Morgana or whoever it was speaking for Viv if we should make the panel 18+ only considering the last one. They insist that it's not needed, explain what they plan on doing for it, what they'll discuss, and showed us the clip of the episode they planned on playing ahead of time. This clip was tame, it sounded like a PG-13 panel. Panel happens, they switch the clip on us last minute, Brandon takes a question too far, etc. Other cons with us we make Helluva panels later some we're able to get away enforcing 18+ some aren't due to complaints from Viv&co.

2024 hazbin comes out, they want both a Helluva and a Hazbin panel, they have not had a Hazbin panel with us, but this is around the time that one 9 year old asked a question at Galaxy Con, to protect us, we make both wristband only.

TLDR: Cons can manage depending on organizer, usually at guest request, Viv's team lies a lot and prevents it from being done.

I knew that two faced harpy was lying and avoiding accountability.

[lilacella]

Man in the Mirror 👀 (can't resist)

Good choice! I have much to share here heheheheh. With this I am always torn at sharing the fun parts or the ones that are most representative of the fic.

This time I went with the latter.

Man in the Mirror

"Already?," Alex asked. His tone was blank but he was drunk and then he was always a little less unreadable. Sirius really wished he wasn't. He nodded. "I'm sorry, gotta get up early today." "Doesn't your shift start at 2pm?" Alex frowned and took a swig from his cup. Sirius rubbed his neck. "Yeah, but I - " "It's fine," Alex said quickly. "See you soon, okay?" He slapped Sirius' shoulder and went to the kitchen for a refill. Sirius wanted to go after him. Tell him that he was sorry. Tell him the truth. Then tell him he was sorry once more. But he did none of these things. Alex would be alright without him. He shouldn't make things about himself all the time. And so he quickly grabbed his jacket and left, exchanging cheerful chatter for the sound of his boots hitting the pavement. He just wanted to go home, curl up and never get up again. He wanted to talk to James... And for the hundreds time this week he found himself wishing he still had the mirror. As if he could actually talk to James through that. As if he didn't know better now. But the mirror was gone and so was James and he'd probably never see that odd real James again. He'd probably weirded him out sufficiently. Oddly, Sirius found that that thought stung. It made his eyes tear up and his breath hitch stupidly. He dropped onto the bench at the bus station and buried his face in his hands. Pathetic. "Shut up," he whinced and sniffed. But maybe the voice was right. Maybe he was being pathetic. Useless. Meaningless. Why was he even still here... But he couldn't give up. He had promised Pommy. And Sirius didn't think that anyone would truly mourn him when he died - except her. Somehow he was sure that she would. And somehow that thought was worse than the prospect of staying alive. Sirius took a couple deep breaths and pressed his feet purposefully into the soles of his boots. He was here. And he would stay. And maybe one day, he would have ice cream.

pick a wip (pick this one!)

[gentlemanviolet]

GUESS WHOS BACK??? I'm sorry i didn't post cuz i was lazy

Storytime until I actually got there! Pt 10

First of all, my eng sucks cuz it's my second language

and second of all, no one is dumb or gonna confused but I wanna explain yall that I haven't fully shifted yet (i think i minishifted before but nvm) but I'm posting storytimes for fun but especially to motivate myself that's why it's "Storytime until I actually got there"

and second of all, no one is dumb or gonna confused but I wanna explain yall that I haven't fully shifted yet (i think i minishifted before but nvm) but I'm posting storytimes for fun but especially to motivate myself that's why it's "Storytime until I actually got there"

Here bbg ⬇

It was when BIGBANG(without seungrat, there's another 5th member ofc) called us to go a a new club that just opened a few weeks ago, "us" means me, my bestie(Song Ji-hyo, my bestie), Soo-young(SNSD), Yeeun(Wonder girls), Yuri (SNSD), CL(2NE1), Eun Jung(T-ara), Jessica(SNSD), and Lee Hyori.

It was 2013, Bigbang members, especially motherf♥cker T.O.P (yall might know him as Thanos from squid game 2) called us to go to a club that just opened weeks ago, you might wanna know why I randomly called him a mf, you'll understand the reason later

We, the girls were planning to go to karaoke (only girls), but these Bigbang mfs, Nichkhun(2PM), Taecyeon(2PM), Lee Joon(TVXQ), and some mfs from Super Junior, they called us to go there with them, we didn't want to but those mfs were too dramatic over a "no", so we decided to go there, they were at there first, some of the girls go there earlier than some of us, but me and my bestie didn't go there early, we just go there on time,

When we entered, I saw them(the girls and those mfs) being so easy to find, they were near the door and they look like they don't wanna go deep inside, I was like "let's go inside? Here's no one and nothing", but they told us(me and my bestie)not to go inside and just let's go to another place, we both were like "no? We just got here?", Jessica said "No unnie, you don't wanna see it", I stopped talking to them and just took my bestie's hand and walked in to the deep inside of the club

And the next thing we saw, truamatized us, you don't wanna know it, we saw a crowd and we went to them, they were looking up so we looked at what they were staring at, and dyk what we saw?, we saw 2 people doing BOOMBAYA on the FUCKING AIR, LIKE WTF????? I THINK THERE WAS ROPE THATS HOLDING THEM FROM SOMEWHERE HIGH YK?? WE STEPPED TF BACK, CUZ MIND YOU IM A KOREAN PRINCESS BY BLOOD(I'm half American and half korean but still), I have NEVER GO TO THESE TYPE OF CLUBS OR SMTH IN MY WHOLE LIFE

AND I WOULD NEVERRRR, I looked away real quick and go back to the door, I couldn't even talk, my poor bestie almost throw up, I started casting spells on those mfs, I sweared non stop, AS I SHOULD, they recommend us to go to the karaoke together cuz we need to do something to forget abt that horrifying moment so we all went to the karaoke

We were fighting to sing first like dumb kids, yes me, my bestie and Lee Hyori are the oldests among them but we dgaf, all of us are singers except my bestie cuz she's an actress (i'm also an actress), we came to karaoke for fun, we're not working so we sang in the most stupid voices possible, my bestie LOVES sleeping more than she loves me so she fell asleep an hour later, I was about to woke her up and go back home cuz she's sleepy but I just let her sleep for half an hour,

Actually the next day is April 10th which is the first day of Kasatela, I recommend you to read Pt 3 if you don't know what Kasatela is in my reality, it's a traditional water festival in Korea in my reality, it's also a music festival/show, also like a celebrity party but like I said it's also a music show so fans can come too, me and my bestie are actually the mc's, but I'm the official mc which means my bestie is mc for only sometimes,

You'll know that I'm the most pathetic one if you read Pt 3, fans and celebrities(that's not gonna perform)voted a gp and unfortunately Bigbang got the most vote, and we announce the votes 1 hour later and the votes are for fun ofc, if a gp/a singer got the most vote, they can get a chance to punish the official mc by pouring all the icy cold water over them with a huge bucket, and yes I'm that poor "official mc", and they can choose a song for me to perform after drowning me with that cold freaking water, but the audience can vote between me and the ones that won after I performed, and if i won, I can get revenge by pouring icier water over them with a bigger bucket but at what cost?

So unfortunately Bigbang won (over other singers) and they chose a song for me to perform after drowning me, and it's fucking Oh! By SNSD

A song that made by a group of 9, without practicing it, but i'm THE Revekka Smith, so it was easy going and yes I won over Bigbang and revenged them but at what cost?

That's it babygirls byeeeee ik it's so not interesting and short:(

[dragonhoardsbookz]

I'm extremely salty

So yesterday I wanted to start a round of loundry, y'know, normal sunday things.

Except. The faucet that connects the washing machine to the water wouldn't open properly. Meaning the washing machine didn't get enough water. Meaning I couldn't do laundry after all.

So we called our landlord. Who wanted to come the next day to look at it (which is of course today) and asked if someone would be home. My husband's job doesn't allow him to do homeoffice. Mine doesn't either usually, because you can't do experiments in a lab from home. But luckily I'm allowed to do analysis and protocol prep from home, so I thought about my plans for today and decided I could be home by early afternoon.

So, this was the agreement: the landlord would call me in the early afternoon as soon as he's ready to come to the flat, to check if I'm home yet.

So, today I nyoomed through my experiments, skipping anything extra like small breaks I usually do to keep myself sane, and managed to get through the practical part at 11am, so I was home and had lunch by 1pm.

By my definition, early afternoon starts at maybe 2pm.

At 3pm I called our landlord to check in (in case he thought that I would call)

Of course, he didn't answer the phone.

It's now almost 4.30pm; around the time my husband usually finishes work, which means he's probably home in about an hour.

Still no word from the landlord

And here I am, wondering why I hurried so much this morning.

And if I'll have to do it again just because he can't keep to agreed times

[ronnykins-needshelp]

Looking to be a beta reader for a SVSSS fanfic!

I finally learned what a beta reader is and I’m super interested in trying it out!

Here is my profile with my examples of my writing - 🌟

I can do any type of beta reading, I just would like to know before hand what you would like for me to do!

For beta reading I’m available everyday from 2pm to 12 am with the exception of 5-7pm Cuase cooking and cleaning.

My donts on fanfics are NSFW cis swap ships [ so M/M ships only ] and Liu Qingge/Shen Qingqiu fics [ it’s not a bash to the ship, I see it but my mind only has them as siblings lol ].

Im looking to beta read one for now

If I get more than one offer I would choose the one I’m most intrigued in.

If your interested please dm me the premise of your fic, what you would like for me to do, and if you want to go to discord if I agree!

I’ll archive this post once I do :3

[quesabo-corner]

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

TedSchlatt (Murder Duo) Platonic or romantic depends on how you want to see it <3 (I wanted to try something clean for once). Inspired by the Smiths ^^ I can't format things sorry >-<

It had been hours of just him. Staring. Staring at the blue light tinted screen. He hadn’t even taken a shower. When he woke up, the clock read 2PM. Now it was 5. So, 3 hours. 3 hours of staring at unrealistic bodies and situations acted out through taboo media. Just him, the screen, and his air pods. Connor hadn’t come in to check on him, he was probably streaming. Not Schlatt. He didn’t have the energy to stream. All his energy was wasted in tissues littered around his bed and his sore right arm. All he did was scroll and click at whatever seemed interesting. It was a virtuous cycle. One started during lockdown. What happened to him? He used to be 150, fit, clean shaven, actually happy with himself. Now he was pushing 200, stretch marks tapered across his thighs and hips, oily hair down to his neck, and the worst he’s ever felt in his life. His spiral, however, was interrupted by an incoming call. Ted. Dang it. What would he even think of him? In bed for three hours just wasting away? Might as well answer. He knew Ted would just ring again and again till someone picked up the phone. “Hey! Schlatt! Are you up?” His voice was cheery. So far from Schlatt’s demeanor. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, yeah I’m up…” “You don’t sound good. You sick or something?” Good, now he was pressing. The last thing he needed was for Ted to figure out he hadn’t left his room. “I’m good. Just… Tired,” he paused, taking in a deep breath, though, the air was stale, no crisp or cool to be found. Just old Texas air. “Well, me and Eddy are heading through Texas today, and I was wondering if you wanted to eat something, join us for a meal. You haven’t been out much, right? Connor said you’ve been kinda down lately.” Fresh… Well, not fresh, but a hot meal that to his knowledge wasn’t from a Marie Calendar’s box made his jaw twinge with hunger. The idea alone was seductive to his sun-deprived body. “Don’t tell me its at Rainforest Café,” he let out a somewhat forced laugh, but it was low enough for the strain to be unnoticed. “Well…” Ted chuckled. He could just hear the smile. “What time?” “In an hour or so. I know its last minute, sorry, but it just hit me that you were in the area.” He sounded almost ashamed, but he wasn’t one to take anything personally, not with Ted, at least. Dang. As much as Schlatt wanted to continue melding into his mattress, to sink farther into the pit he had dug for himself, he couldn’t. For once, he’d be able to see his friend, and go out and get… Well, it was 5, so moonlight. Fresh air to suffice. Something to bring his decaying body back to life. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there,” his voice was raspy, dehydrated. He realized he hadn’t had anything to drink except a day old cup of red which had been emptied out hours ago. “Sweet. You think Connor can come?”

“I’ll ask…” Schlatt was hesitant to leave the room, especially if Connor happened to be streaming. He and Connor shared an audience, that he knew, so for the viewers to see him, or the husk of himself, was not the most appealing. “Let me get ready, though.” “It’s 5:23, you aren’t up?” Ted laughed, but it hid true concern. “Can’t a guy sleep in?” He rebutted. “Schlatt, be honest. When did you get up?” “2… Ish… I don’t remember.” “What the hell have you been doing for the past 3 hours?” “You don’t wanna know.” That wasn’t a lie. Not for the bit, or the comedic effect. He was too tired to do any of those. That was a true statement. He’d rather put a bullet through his skull than admit to Ted what he had been doing in his cave of a room for an extended period. It was silent on the other end of the line, just for a moment. “If you need to talk, I’m here, man. Just don’t let… Whatever your dealing with mess you up.” It was short, to the point. The metaphorical door of talking was not opened but cracked. Enough to allow a glimpse of himself to be shown but conceded if need be. “Yeah, thanks, man. Let me get in the shower, and I’ll ask, okay? It’ll be quick.” “Yeah, talk to you in a minute.” Ted was the one to hang up. Schlatt sat up with a whine. His back ached from lying in the same position for too long. His head spun with the sudden blood rush. “God…” He groaned. His attempt to stand up was unsteady, his knees buckling backwards, causing him to cuss out of sheer surprise. He got his balance and slid on some boxers, that way if Connor wasn’t streaming, he wasn’t privy to his bare body. He grabbed a tee and some jeans. No way in hell was Ted or Eddy going to see what his body had shaped into. He made his was to his bathroom. Luckily, their house was so big that you could go days without seeing anyone. Sometimes, it led to that mental decline, sometimes, it meant he could get inebriated with no consequences. The shower was inviting to his weary frame. The hot water drenched his hair as soon as he stepped in. “I really needed this…” He muttered to himself. After his shower and getting himself ready, which took 10 minutes tops, he made his way to Connor’s office. He heard some talking, so he just entered. Most likely, he would have his headphones on, so knocking would be futile. Connor swiveled around in his chair, seeing Schlatt in his stream. “Hey, what’s up?” He clicked the mute button, slipping off his headset. “Ted is heading through here later… Well, in an hour, and wanted to know if you wanted to join for dinner.” “Man… I would, but I’m in an event, sorry dude. Tell him I say hi, though.” Real blunt, huh. Schlatt nodded, leaving Connor to finish up whatever he was doing in the first place. He went back to his room. It was an absolute dumpster fire of a living space. Before he got to cleaning, he whipped out his phone.

Schlatt: Connor can’t make it. Sorry. I’ll be going tho. What time? Ted: :( Man. Alright. Around 40 mins. Schlatt: Sounds good. See u then

Luckily he was already dressed and clean, but it was the state that he was living in that now bothered him. His first action was opening the windows. Instead of warm sunshine greeting the walls of the room, it was a soft sunset. He took a moment to just… Look. It was gorgeous, the way it dipped beneath the houses that lined the street. The Texas sun coated the sky in a hazy pink and orange, the clouds similar to cotton candy at the state fair. It was one of the few things he enjoyed about this state, besides the open carry, guns, and video opportunities. Sure, Texas couldn’t hold a candle to the nature of his home state, but it had its silver linings, the sunsets and sunrises being one of them. I got to get cleaning; he thought to himself.

His cleaning spree, rapid and much needed, was cut short by a vibrating in his back pocket.

Ted: Hey we’re here figured you wanted to ride with us Schlatt: Be out in a few

He dropped the vacuum he had dragged out and slipped on some tennis shoes. Just something to walk in, since he was going to a boardwalk. He walked outside, greeted by the honking of Ted’s rather dingy truck. His window was rolled down. “Get in the back, we’re going to eat!” Ted laughed. Schlatt obeyed, having to run to Eddy’s side as luggage was piled up behind Ted. “Hey Ted, Eddy.” Schlatt gave a curt nod to the other man sitting in front of him. He returned the gesture with a smile, albeit rather hidden from his mustache. “Buckle up, Schlatt,” Ted reminded. “Oh, yeah.” He did as he was told, making small talk the whole time. ‘How was the ride?’ ‘Liking Texas so far?’ It was all very meaningless. Just to keep the action moving. It was around a 20-25 minute ride until they got there. All three men hopped out of the car, which groaned at the loss of weight. “Dude, you gotta get your suspension checked.” “She don’t need a thing,” Ted smirked, patting the car before leading them to the entrance. Eddy opened the first set of doors, and Schlatt opened the second. ‘Why have two doors’ was something Schlatt always asked himself when going to chain restaurants like this. Immediately, he felt out of place. It was three 20 something white men in a Rainforest Café. They weren’t the usual target audience. Except Ted. This was Ted’s ballpark, his magnum opus. He mused the decorations, ones he had seen before, but the magic still lingered for him. Eddy was impartial to the 30 minute intervals of thunderstorms, to which they walked in on one pretty much on que. “Jesus, could it be literally any louder?” Schlatt grumbled. “It was blaring in our ears once. We got sat next to the elephant animatronics one time. Now we request to be seated away,” Eddy playfully rolled his eyes with a shrug. Clearly, the experience wasn’t foreign. To Schlatt, despite the rather loud atmosphere and bright colors, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the birthday parties, not even exclusively at a Rainforest Café. Like, the ones from 2nd grade where he’d go to Chuck-e-Cheese or Dave and Busters where he’d just eat chicken tenders and run around with his friends. Just for a moment, his mind wasn’t running through video ideas, porn clips, or general anxiety. For just a split second, he was 9 again running around space, pointing at the massive animatronics with his friends while his mother yelled at him to get back by her side and to not embarrass her in front of the other parents. For a moment, he was chewing misshapen pizza with animatronic creatures singing in the background, truly content with his life, even at the time it was just mediocre pizza on a Saturday. He felt his eyes sting, just for a second. Normally, he wasn’t emotional, but for some reason, his apathy was softened by the rather simple scene. It was just a restaurant, a family entertainment center. He couldn’t truly place why he was getting misty-eyed at massive animal animatronics and slightly better-than-average food, but he was. Maybe it was pureness of it all, maybe the fact his friends cared enough to drag him out here. It wasn’t truly clear. “Dude, you alright?” Ted’s voice cut through his nostalgia trip. He blinked a bit. “Yeah, just takes me back.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Me too,” Ted smiled before having a server lead them to a table. Schlatt glanced over the menu that he was handed. “They have alcohol here?” He was a bit surprised, but there needed to be something for fathers in their 40’s with a failing marriage to order at a ‘family outing.’ That’s at least the reason Schlatt put behind the rather out of place menu section. “Yeah, its okay. I recommend this one,” Eddy pointed at a rather toxically blue drink. It probably had fifty different sweeteners in it, all synthetic, but Schlatt shrugged. Might as well.

“Alright, thanks.”

Food came, and it was better than expected. The safari fries had a creole seasoning to them, the flavors mellow and savory. His burger wasn’t half bad either. The cheese melted across the patty and the lettuce was fresh. The drink wasn’t awful as he thought it’d be. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was strong. He could handle it though; he had drunk his way through 2020, so a tolerance for the drinks had been built up. “This is actually really good,” Schlatt noted. “Did you think we were gonna take you somewhere with crap food?” Ted joked. “Well, you’ve said how it can be bad!” Schlatt raised his hands in mock surrender. “Now, c’mon, you know us better then that.” Ted grinned. “Yeah, yeah…” Schlatt shook his head with a smile, slipping out his wallet. “No, you aren’t paying for jack-” Ted began, but it was too late. The server had approached their table, receipt in hand. Ted tried to yank his arm down, but Schlatt reached out his hand, craning the card towards the waiter, who took it, impartial to the internal conflicts the table were undergoing. Eddy just laughed and filmed, shaking his head. “You… You…” Ted seethed, glaring at the other man. “I have too much money, I don’t even know what to do with it.” “We have a sponsor! They literally offered to pay for the meals… Oh my god…” Ted groaned, head in hands. “Well, keep the sponsor money, I don’t care,” Schlatt shot him a satisfied smirk. Eddy blinked. “So…” “Yeah…”

“We owe you, Schlatt, like… I dunno, a cameo or something.” Eddy glanced over to Ted, who nodded in agreement. “You owe me nothing, just taking me out was enough.” “It was on your dime!” Ted exclaimed. “You drove me, though.” “It was a 20 minute drive!” Eddy butted in, fake aggravated as well. “Well, sucks to suck,” Schlatt leaned into the back of his chair, hands behind his head, stretching his upper back. The waiter approached once more. “Your card, sir.” They smiled. Schlatt took the card, careful not to seem hasty. “Thank you,” he responded. “Wanna go to the pier?” Ted suggested. The boardwalk was right outside, so no driving was necessary. It wasn’t particularly hot outside either.

“Sure,” Schlatt shrugged.

The moon swayed in the reflection of the water. It was larger than he remembered it being, but then again, he hadn’t stepped outside in a couple days. The windchill was low, so no jacket needed. They just walked and talked, catching up on their lives. It was few and far between when they had time to just chat about things other than YouTube and videos. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back,” Eddy didn’t interrupt, but he did warn, waving as he jogged to off to the public restrooms. It was just Ted and Schlatt, the latter running his fingers across the wooden barrier. He was careful not to get a splinter, but reckless enough to do it in the first place. Ted slowed his walk, Schlatt mirroring the action. They turned to the water. Ted leaned on the barrier, turning to his friend. “You okay, man?” Schlatt was slightly taken aback. “Uh, yeah, why?” “You just haven’t seemed okay lately. I wasn’t gonna bring it up in front of Eddy, but I just wanted to know.” Ted’s hand seemed like it moved towards his own, but it stopped. “I…” Schlatt couldn’t really explain what he was going through. Not just because he was in public. No, he’s talked about more obscene things with friends in bar more times than he could count. But this was different. “You don’t have to share; I just want to know if you’re okay.” Ted’s voice was soft and low. Soothing to him. “I’ve just been really struggling with some stuff.” He kept it vague. Not like he needed to know what he was doing under the sheets. “Well, if you ever just need to take your mind off whatever’s up in your head, just give me a call. I’m up to talk anytime, okay?” His smile was sweet, genuine. “Thanks, man.” Schlatt felt a tear run down his cheek. Ted chose not to point it out but instead open his arms. Schlatt accepted, giving his friend a squeeze. He tucked his head into his friend’s shoulder. Ted rubbed circles into his back. It was soothing. Calming. The people around them seemed to just melt away. Just the two of them by the moonlit water. It lasted only a few moments, a little under a minute, but it was well needed. “Of course,” Ted murmured before Schlatt broke the hug, wiping his damp eyes. They stared at each other, just for a second, before they heard approaching footsteps. Eddy. “Hey, sorry, there was a bit of a line,” he explained. “You’re good.” Schlatt tried to hide the wavering in his voice. “So, I heard there’s an ice cream joint down on the end of the pier if you guys want to go get some,” Eddy suggested. “Sure. If you want to, Schlatt,” as if a second thought, Ted turned to Schlatt.

Schlatt hummed with a nod, gaze softening at the sight of his friend.

By the time they got to the ice cream place, the lines that would have normally been there on a Saturday night had dissipated. “Crap, they’re only open for like 10 more minutes,” Eddy bolted towards the door, Schlatt and Ted in tow. Once in line, it didn’t take long for everyone to order. “One chocolate in a bowl,” Schlatt said. “Strawberry in a waffle cone for me,” Ted added. “Just a vanilla in a sugar cone,” Eddy finished. Ted and Schlatt turned to the other. “Sugar cone?” They said in almost unison.

“Oh, f off.” Eddy rolled his eyes.

They all sat on the wooden pier, leaning against the rails. Schlatt was savoring his, Ted was just a slow eater, but Eddy had pretty much finished his aside from a few remaining bites of the sugar cone. “What the hell do you guys have against the sugar cone?” Eddy frowned at the two, using a napkin they were handed to clean off his mustache. “It’s in the name, Ed. Sugar. It’s sweets on top of sweets. Just enjoy the ice cream with a crunchy superior cone. Sugar cones have the consistency of Styrofoam,” Ted explained, taking a bite of his waffle cone for demonstration. “Well, hold on Ted, sugar on sugar is the point of ice cream!” Schlatt interjected. “What is the point of ice cream without a good cone?” “You have a cup!” Ted jabbed his finger to point at the truth, that yes, his ice cream was in a cup. “It was the cheapest option!” Schlatt defended himself. “You are a millionaire and you cheap out on a CONE?” Eddy burst out laughing. “Wha- hey! Nonono, it was on your card, I don’t go ordering just anything!” Schlatt’s face was red, maybe from mock anger or just plain embarrassment. “We have a sponsor! We told you this! It’s fine!” Ted was getting riled up at the sheer absurdity of Schlatt’s rather backwards logic. “Oh my god…” Schlatt groaned, stuffing his mouth with more ice cream to avoid the conversation. “Jesus,” Eddy breathed. “Waffle cones are best,” Ted finished off his ice cream. “Agreed,” Schlatt nodded.

“Well wait-”

After ice cream, dinner, and some more walking, Ted and Eddy drove Schlatt home. His home loomed in front of them, Schlatt still in the car which was parked in his driveway. Schlatt stepped out and began his walk up to the door but paused when he heard another door shut. “Schlatt.” He turned around, Ted jogging up the path. “What’s up?” His hands were deep in his pockets. “I just wanted to give you a good hug. I won’t see you for a while, so,” Ted’s face was a bit red, but Schlatt disregarded it. “Yeah, of course,” Schlatt opened his arms, Ted accepting the silent invitation. Ted wrapped him in a hug, not loose or weak, but firm. “Know that I care about you, dude. A lot,” Ted murmured. It was quiet, even if no one else was around. Meant for Schlatt and Schlatt alone. “I love you too, man,” Schlatt reciprocated. He couldn’t remember the last time he said “I love you” to another person. But he meant it. Ted broke the hug, rather reluctantly. As much as he wanted to stay there with his friend, he knew that he needed to get back on the road. Eddy was still waiting in the car, probably confused.

“I’ll be seeing you around. Podcast filming tomorrow, right?” Ted asked. “Yeah.” “Try and get out of bed early, okay?” He teased. “Screw you, man.” “Love you too,” Ted responded, giving him a smile before turning to his car. The words lingered for a moment in Schlatt’s mind as he waved goodbye. He didn’t enter his house till the truck was out of sight. But when he did return to his room, now clean, he felt calm for once. He opened his phone.

Schlatt: Thanks for a great night. Good luck on the road, get some rest He got a response immediately. Ted: Thanks! You too :)

He stared at the text for a bit longer than one should, but when he put down the phone, the lights shut off, he acknowledged that he felt better stepping outside. Hanging out with friends. Not holed up. He grabbed his phone again. He set an alarm for 10AM. Earliest he’s probably gotten up in a while. He placed the phone back down. Good. He smiled to himself before settling in and eventually falling asleep, feeling better than he had in months.