#like I remember when Snapchat first launched

[rapidashrider]

I don’t go here because I don’t have Netflix but fan artists stop slimming Penelope Featherington’s face and jaw challenge for real. Signed, a person with a roundy face.

[kaizen-design-studio]

REACH THE RIGHT AUDIENCE THROUGH A CORPORATE VIDEO

Pune is becoming the hub for corporate videos. Owing to demand, you can now easily find a good corporate video production company in Pune. The keyword here is good. With good, there’s also bad and ugly. So, make sure you are hiring the right corporate video production company who will help you reach your audience in the fastest growing form of communication – video.

Videos are a great way to grab attention. We are a moving into a world where visual communication is best way to get your communication across. Videos are now an integral part of everyday life. Even social media sites are pushing videos. Just run through your Facebook timeline through your phone, and you will find a large number of sponsored video posts. Video communication and campaigning is the future. Videos can be used for –

Corporate videos have multiple uses. You can use them as training videos, brand stories, product promotions, new launches, service updates, etc. There’s a lot you can do and say through corporate videos. Corporate videos are also a mark of a professional company. The best companies invest a lot in video content, and make great use of these videos through their marketing and advertising channels.

First and foremost, you need to set your goals from video production. Then, you’ll need the right corporate video company in Pune who can do justice to your end goals. These videos also need to be of high quality. In the age of 4K and Ultra HD, 2D and 3D animation, etc., your ads need to be of the highest quality. They need to be well written, produced, and edited. Consumers are now used to high quality videos, and anything lesser might be ignored.

Videos are quite hot on social media. According to studies, people are more likely to read and share a video they like than an article or blog. This has also prompted social media platforms to give more precedence to videos posts. Most businesses today also have their own YouTube channels, where they can upload and promote their videos. Other social media platforms also allow you to promote these videos directly from the source. This shows that social media platforms have consciously decided to push videos. Therefore, if you wish to incorporate social media marketing into your marketing, you need to have videos to upload.

The rise of social media platforms like Instagram and Snapchat, where pictures and videos are the main form of communication, is another reason why video production has become all the more important. Video sharing is also quite easy, and hassle-free, thanks to sites like Vimeo, Daily Motion and YouTube. The embedded codes provided by them simply have to be copied and pasted.

Videos for advertising set alarm bells ringing as, you may think of expensive commercials you see on television. This is not the case. Any corporate video production company in Pune can make a good video for you, and once you promote it online, you can have a better reach than television. Remember, television is limited to only a certain section of audience, and viewership is limited. If you want a higher viewership, you will have to pay more. Whereas, through the internet, you can easily target and reach potential customers. You will also get measurable data when you do video campaigns. This data will help you decide future campaigns.

Videos also help a lot in marketing. Your marketing personnel can use videos to show demos of products and services. Research shows that videos are far more effective than instruction manuals. These videos can also be used for digital marketing. There’s a paradigm shift taking place in digital marketing, and as mentioned above, videos are getting more eyeballs. So, short, catchy, creative videos will help your business a lot. There are social media platforms just dedicated to video, so, you can campaign on such sites, and gather good leads for your business.

As much as content plays an important role in marketing, video is now taking its place. After research in countries where people use a lot of social media, it has been found that people do not want to read a lot. They would much rather watch a video online. Why?

• Videos interact on a more intimate level. They engage more senses than content. Plus, moving images stimulate the brain more. We live in a world with short attention spans, so, a video is the better way to catch attention. • Wonder why people prefer to see the movie than read the book? Because it is easier to remember. Our brain stores visual data better than textual data. So, it is easy to remember a product if you see a visual image (this is also a reason why companies create brand logos, rather than just text). • In a video, you can say and show more in a short amount of time than with written content. This is one of the main reasons why communication is shifting towards video. • Though written content is cheaper, video content prices are coming down. Companies can now choose a good corporate video company in Pune at who will do their work on a reasonable budget. And, in the long run, videos will bring in more business. A good corporate video production company in Pune will explain to you all the processes involved in making the video. You can stay in the loop and understand the making process. You can also ask them to collaborate with your digital marketer, so together, they can strategize and make optimal videos. Or better yet, you can simply look for an agency which provides corporate video and digital marketing services. This way, you can get better deals, and they will make videos that can be

[alldayangst]

gold rush (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift. Everybody wants Tom, but you don’t like a gold rush. WC: 2.7K words. 

“Y/N, I just wanted to say again, thank you for coming in today and doing this for us.” Tom’s dad, Dominic, said as he displaced papers across desks, earl grey swaying like an angry lake in his mug. Approaching footsteps hinted that the star of the show was soon to be hold. In other words, Tom was running behind.

The door creaked and light from the corridor crept through like Sun peeping through curtains of the Night. It refusing to shut after Tom budged and pushed was maybe divine punishment for him being so late, and maybe provided the bit of laughter you needed after rolling out of bed at 6am for this, for him. When the door eventually did close, Tom turned around and saw you in all your glory; much taller than he remembered, more assured than he’d imagined, and more gorgeous than drowned out and half forgotten memories of you could ever fabricate.

You and Tom ran in the same social circles, but hadn’t seen each other since Tom’s career imploded when you were both nineteen. As much as Tom felt he owed his heart and soul to the UK, he maintained an almost permanent fixture on the States. It started to feel like his trips back to England were in fact actual holiday. At one point, you were in love with Tom, but meeting became a constant battle of ‘here, not there’ and your heart grew tired of the duck and goose chase. The gravity of the situation was too much for you, whom hadn’t even tasted their twenties yet. 

“Y/N!” Tom launched at you and held you in tight embrace. You let go of the hug, but he didn’t. And his dad watched on in momentary awe as you wrapped your arms around Tom once again, who breathed in every part of you with unwavering adoration.

“Tom!” You rubbed along his back as he hummed. “When I was told we were gonna have a ghost writer, I had no idea it was gonna be you.”

Tom and his dad (being an author) were collaborating on a book, a million dollar idea that’d been years in the making. Tom had stalled it, his dad told you out of simple insecurity. Now that the world was a stage, he was worried people would criticise his dyslexia with every line he wrote, that every stroke of his pen would reveal him as a rare type of monster that lacked intellect, he pondered that he wasn’t insightful enough in some way. His dad may have written a book about Tom outfaming him, but Tom felt like he’d always live in Dom’s shadow in this respect. Fresh from Oxford with an English Bachelor’s degree, Dom employed you to get grease on the gears to commence writing. Tom had always come out of his shell when you were around.

Your writing session lasted from 8 til noon, when Tom had promo with LadBible or Entertainment Weekly or whoever had bid the highest from his presence that day.

The door swung open and three men in all black and mics saddled around their waists called for and led Tom out of the room.

“Tom, session’s over. We need to get you to your BBC promo in 30 and we’re already running behind schedule.’ One cloaked Tom in a jacket you were sure was more expensive than your own home and another whispered something into a walkie talkie: “Holland is on the move. Check the back entrance is clear.” With that, Tom rose to his feet and left completely opposite of the way you came in. Without a word, no goodbye.

You and Dom left the building together around ten minutes later, where ten men with large cameras stood, lenses focused on you, glaring at you, not sure what to make of you. One of the men screams “Hey! You dating Tom Holland” and after that all you hear is clicks and all you see is bright flashing lights and Dom clenches your hand and leads you to your taxi cab.

The next time you see Tom is sooner than expected. The Hollands were hosting a last minute dinner party and you found yourself sitting opposite Tom, feeling his hard, hot and heavy gaze on you. The tension in the room was so thick not even a chainsaw cut through.

“Next topic,” You picked up a card from the deck and read it aloud. “Politics!” You said devilishly as you sip on what was left of the white wine in your cup, and now that your thought process is blurred; Tom’s longing gaze puts you at dismay.

“Fuck!” Harry exploded, and you hear their mother hiss. “Fuck I hate politics, there’s no making it out alive!” he remarked as he drummed on the table cloth, drunken excitement brewing a new energy in the room.

You go on like this for hours until dinner party is dinner party no more. And while Dom, Nikki and all of Tom’s siblings have chosen to exit stage left, it’s 1am and you and Tom have yet to leave the scene.

Tom sets down your deck of debate cards in favour of a genuine moment.

“What are you doing these days, Y/N?” Tom’s not looking at you, he’s looking at your knee as he rubs circles on it. You want to look down there too, see what he finds so intriguing; but you decide against it in fear you might spontaneously combust. You don’t know if this moment’s supposed to be intimate or innocent and you’re not sure if you want to find out.

So you put up a wall.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Holland.” You say sarcastically. “What have you been doing these days? I haven’t seen you around.” Your eyebrows scrunched up together but you’ve got a big, idiot grin on your face that’s more than telling. Tom giggles at your facetiousness.

Tom scratches his head in mock thought. He never clocks out, always putting on a show. “I don’t know - uh.” You’re laughing before Tom has even told the punchline, ‘cause I guess anything’s funny when it’s said by the one you love.”I’m kind of -” He snatches an old Spiderman comic off the floor. “I’m kinda doing this acting thing at the moment. Playing, y’know, this guy.”

“Well I wish you better luck in the future.” Tom has stopped rubbing circles but instead places his two hands on your knees as you rock back in laughter.

“I’m serious, Y/N. What do you do now?”

“Um.” You suddenly forgot your entire career as Tom, with no shade of subtlety, stares right into your soul. “I got my degree. I write like little stories, y’know? Have you ever heard of folklore?”

Tom shook his head.

“They’re like these little, old beautiful myths. And I write them for a living. And if I’m lucky, they get published in The Times. If I’m even luckier, I get to work with my old best friend - ” You feel your world stop temporarily as you call Tom your ‘best friend’ and you pause for all of 0.3 seconds to register Tom’s reaction but his face doesn’t flinch. “-Writing a book with him and his dad.” And that makes Tom smile. So he doesn’t have to tell you he missed you, you just know.

‘Undivided appearance’ and ‘undivided attention’ don’t necessarily mean the same thing in Hollywood as they do in real life, and you learn that the hard way in your writing session.

Tom may have been sat right next to you, but he was miles away. He was doing press with Cosmo, who hadn’t stopped tagging him with blue hearts on his Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat stories, causing his phone to go off every two seconds. You looked at the phone and then at him who then got the hint and put it on silent. Then there was a knock on the door. Tom rushed to open it, expecting that Dom had sent down a food delivery to egg you on finishing this chapter. You rehashed his childhood like a million times - in fact, you were part of it - so when it came to writing the parts that hurt, where you took a more supporting role in his life, you needed his help. The fact is, the knock at the door had come from one of Tom’s men (Tom liked to call him Man In Black no. 3) who hadn’t said as much as a ‘hi’ before he made his announcement. “Tom, you’re on the line with Cosmo in 10.” The man stepped back and pulled out his walkie talkie, “Holland knows he’s on the line with Cosmo at 10.” And then continued to pace around the hallway.

Cosmo called as he said they would and you almost felt for. second like tom might enjoy an entertainment magazine’s company more than yours. The interviewer made glaring comments and passive flirts at Tom who just blushed and chuckled and sipped his water like the woman on the phone calling him ‘hot’ was just too much to handle. At one point, she says: “What must it be like to grow up that beautiful, Tom? With your hair falling into place like dominoes.” You’re not expecting it when Tom tilts the phone so you’re in view. “Well I’m with the most beautiful being on Earth right now so..” Tom looks at you as if to ask ‘is this okay?” and you know it’s too late for these kind of questions, because that moment is headline fodder, so you smile not to make him feel bad for opening Pandora’s box. But Tom is merciless and likes to rub salt in the wound. “This is Y/N! Y/N’s helping me write the book with my Dad! We go way back.” He covers his mouth as soon as he says it. “Shit! They’re not supposed to know about the book yet.”

This is the moment, you think, where you believe when they say your first love is the one you never let go.

And you can’t think of anything purer than the love you have for him.

Tom thinks being on land is boring. He likes being strung from chords 30 feet in the air, and drowning in despair through scenes of emotional turmoil. You want to tell him you’re an arrow from Cupid’s bow about to reach him, but you couldn’t recover from the splinters if Tom shut you down. After all, Tom was a gold rush. A treasure that everyone had discovered but nobody owned. How precious is a jewel that anybody could take home with them?

Tom had invited you to a visit to Brighton with him, a city near the coast, for some inspiration on writing his section of the book. 

You accepted. And because you did, you found yourself at the beginning of the end, on Tom’s boat in Brighton. “We don’t have to talk about the book right now.” Tom throws a stack of blue tinted paper on the floor. His dyslexia meant that spelling and reading was so much easier when done on blue pages, and you could only guess that was the reason the body of water around you brought him so much peace. So when you saw that something might compromise your best boy’s happiness, you point it out. To give Tom a little bit of time to exit before things got ugly.

“Tom, I see someone in the bushes.”

“Yeah. It’s a pap.” Tom mumbled nonchalantly. 

“They’re here to get pictures of me,” He turned to face you. “and you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the fans ship us. Think we’d be a good couple after that Cosmo stunt. We would have been a good couple when we were like, 18.” He laughs.

“Huh, yeah.” You look down.

“The best one around.” And you can’t tell if he’s serious.

You rip off one of his blue sheets. “I’m coming. I got hit with inspo.” And you trail to a different section of the boat. A very obvious click of the camera from a shrub nearby coaxes your pen to write without a second thought, How is he so accustomed to this? Fake private moments, protected by sheer glass curtains?

You scrunched your paper, well his paper, into a ball. 

Your mind had turned his life into folklore. You weren’t sure if that was crossing a line, so you just put the ball into your bag and hide it until he hits you with the spark again.

“Let me see it.” Tom says.

“No.”

“You ran off to write it and won’t let me see it?” 

You held your bag at your hip in defence. “No, Tom. Drop it.” 

Tom’s face drops a little bit, but then he reaches into his own bag and reveals a deck of your debate cards. “I know what will cheer you up, good ol’ Y/N.” He sets a card on the wooden table between you two. 

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

You toyed with the pendant around your neck which revealed your faith. “Do you?”

“I don’t. But I believe in soulmates.”

You look to the left to really ponder on what Tom is saying, and a paparazzis captures another photo of you in the corner of your eye.

“And you don’t think there’s a higher power that manufactures our souls to make our soulmates?”

Tom feigns a scowl. “That’s ridiculous.”

You scoffed. “How very contrarian of you.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“It means you contradict yourself, Thomas.” You laugh as he holds his chest in fake hurt.

“Are you implying I’m anything less than perfect?”

“Never.”

Never. Because you didn’t believe that to be true. 

“Good. Cause you’d have to be punished.” Tom picks you up and throws you in the water below before jumping in with you.

On your way home you stop at the yours and Tom’s writing booth, scavenging through your bag to drop off Tom’s notepad, some scrunched up blue and white papers you and Tom thought could still help you write his book. You’d made an addition to your love-hazed scribblings about Tom and reckon you’d die if he found it. You managed to throw the other in the water, excusing yourself with “It’s utterly awful.”, to which you and Tom agreed you wouldn’t throw any more paper in the ocean cause the poor fish already had it hard enough.

You and Tom had a session the next day. Tom was excited for the day, and you could tell because he’d given his phone to one of his big babysitters for the time he had you.

“I think that’s all of yours.” You and Tom made a business out of unscrunching your paper balls to see if they had any useful ideas. You were certain you reached the end of Tom’s. All of his notes had ‘T.H’ written on the back in big and were scribed on blue paper. When it came to your little ‘secret admirer’ notes you weren’t worried - you had an English degree and were quick to think on your feet and was ready to make something up when it came to opening it. 

“No, this one’s mine.” He’s confident, so you let him have it. He goes to pick up your tea and then realises it’s nowhere near warm, and was the one you made for yourself when you crept in yesterday evening. Tom has a smile on his face, and then he doesn’t. Before he goes to read it aloud, his eyes tell you he’s reading it again and again and again. “At dinner parties, I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit, and the coastal towns we wondered round will never see a love as pure as it.”

The look on Tom’s face gives you the splinters. He tries to look at you but you know he can’t. You don’t blame him. You can’t look at him either. “I really thought this was a good friendship.”

You hum and nod your head in agreement, pull your lips into a thin straight line as streaks of tears abandon your eyes. This was worse than Tom rubbing salt in your wounds. He’s rubbing dirt in your painful fucking gashes and you are reminded of why this didn’t work before, why it will never be.

And you wouldn’t dare to dream about him anymore.

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

summertime mindset - pt. 7

picnics & parties

masterlist for summertime mindset

Timing is hard to get right and summer doesn’t last forever. You and Tyson learn the hard way.

word count: 3.3k

note from the writer: sorry I forgot to post yesterday, hopefully this makes up for it!!

SUMMER

Tyson had the brilliant idea that while you were at the lake house, he wanted to take you out for a romantic ride in a rowboat. You had agreed and decided that you would go while Michael and Rachel headed to the store for a few last-minute items.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You giggled, watching from the dock as he tried to steady the boat. Moments before, you had helped him carry it into the water from where it had been stored on the lawn. You hadn’t even left shore, and he was already acting as if he was going to tip over. He shot you a look, a way-too dramatic look of offense at your comment that led you to double over with giggles.

“Of course, I know what I’m doing, it’s just… maybe leave the phones in the house in case we tip.” He confessed as he finally got the hang of what he was doing. Right before you were about to climb into the boat, Tyson’s face lit up as if he just remembered something. “Almost forgot, I’ll be right back.” He started to jog back up the house but stopped after a few steps and turned on his heel walk back up to you. He gave you a quick kiss, as if he couldn’t help himself, before flashing a grin and continuing back onto his previous path to the house.

You watched as he went, unable to fight the smile that was growing on your face. Tyson was incredibly sweet, and so affectionate, you had never felt more appreciated in your life than you did with him. It was a little nerve wracking, how everything seemed to just fall into place with him, but then he was bouncing out of the house and back towards you on the dock with a picnic basket in his hand and suddenly none of that was of any importance to you.

“You didn’t.” You tried, because of course he did. He was grinning like he usually was, looking incredibly proud of himself—granted, he had a right to be—and you briefly wondered when he had left your side long enough to put the basket together.

He set the basket in the center of the boat before helping you climb in. You watched as he tried to steady himself, giggling as he dramatically pumped his fist when he managed to settle into his seat without too much rocking.

Tyson rowed out for a while, joking and keeping you laughing the whole way out. You were curious what was in the basket, and once he deemed you far enough out on the water, he pulled it towards him.

“I made lunch, but I’m not a chef and I had to pack this quick while you were in the shower, so I hope you’re in the mood for PB&Js.” He joked while digging through the basket to pull out two baggies filled with the sandwiches.

“It’s perfect.” You promised, readily taking the one he was offering you. He rocked the boat as if he was going to tip it, and you playfully glared at him, but for the more part you ate in relative silence. As you took a sip out of one of the water bottles he brought, Tyson grinned at you before pulling one more thing out of the picnic basket.

His ukulele.

“Dinner and a show? What did I do to deserve this?”  You teased, earning an eye roll from Tyson.

“Might be a punishment, depending how you look at it.” He joked as he strummed aimlessly. You shook your head at him, cheeks sore from smiling so hard. It was a little mind blowing, how easy it felt to be around Tyson. Even when he was playing the ukulele and singing off key to a song you were pretty sure he was making up on the spot, he was the only person you wanted to be with. He finished the first song, and you dissolved into giggles as he wiggled his brows at you. “So, was it a punishment or not?”

“Definitely not a punishment.” You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow two sizes at the sight of Tyson’s blush at your compliment. “Not to be cheesy but spending time with you is never a punishment.”

“That is cheesy.” He chuckled, though he flushed harder and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. You shook your head at him, the smile seemingly permanent on both your faces as you studied each other. You watched as the look in his eye turned from teasing to a softer, more adoring one as the moments ticked by and neither one of you said anything.

“What’re you thinking about, Tys?” You asked quietly. You hoped the answer was you, because just the idea that he was smiling so genuinely as a result of you made your heart race and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” Tyson started, a dreaminess to his voice that had you swooning. Before you could prompt him about why he thought that, he continued. “You’re spending your summer with me. So, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

For a moment you just smiled at him, wanting to launch yourself into his arms but not willing to risk tipping the boat. But then you thought, fuck it, and stood up with your arms braced on either side of the boat to lean forward just enough to give him a kiss. He cupped your jaw, holding you in place against his lips for an extra moment longer. When you settled back into your seat, you were still grinning at each other and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“And I’m the cheesy one.”

PRESENT

“I can’t believe you didn’t listen to me.”

You know you’re in for a fight when those are Jon’s first words as he brushes past you and into your apartment. Granted, most of what you had been doing with Jon over the past couple weeks was fighting, so you weren’t that surprised. The relationship was dying—dead, past tense—but you hadn’t gotten yourself to pull it together enough to end everything.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, sounding defeated before the argument even started. Jon headed into the kitchen like he lived there, and if you hadn’t been so focused on trying to find out what he meant you would have rolled your eyes at him.

“You hung out with Tyson yesterday.” He spoke as if you had just committed the highest act of treason and not gotten lunch with a group of friends and posted a picture of it on your Snapchat story. You scoffed, arms crossed and already on the defensive.

“And what about it? We’re friends, Jonathan.” You hissed, making sure that you stayed on the opposite side of the kitchen as him. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, but you also couldn’t stand for letting him think that you were a cheater. It was a lose-lose situation for you, that much was clear.

“You guys used to fuck! How do I know you’re not doing it again behind my back?” Jon accused you, and you flinched at the tone of his voice.

“Maybe because JT was there? And one of the other guys is there too whenever we hang out? And maybe you could have some trust in me?” You snapped. This had been building for a while, and though you knew he was jealous of Tyson, Jon had managed to somewhat keep it to himself. Now, it was out in the open and his accusations had you seething.

“You lied to me about your past with Tyson and you lied about not seeing him anymore!” He countered, completely ignoring you and only serving to rile you up more.

“First of all, I know I should have mentioned my past relationship with Tyson, and I’m sorry. But it was years ago. And I never said I would stop seeing him.” You shot back. For a moment, it was quiet, save for the labored breathing as a result of pent up anger and resentment. The silence allowed you to comprehend just what this argument and accusations meant for the fate of your relationship. “If you can’t trust me to be friends with Tyson, then leave.”

“Maybe I will.” He threatened, leaning backwards against the counter with his arms crossed. Clearly, he thought he was going to get his way, and you briefly wondered why he assumed that you would pick him over your friends and happiness when he had caused you nothing but pain and strife for the last few months.

“Get out.” You demanded, voice more firm and more set in a decision that you had ever been. Jon had the audacity to look shocked, and you raised a brow, silently daring him to try and protest. “We’re done.”

“But—”

“No.” You interrupted, extending a finger to point to the door in a not-so subtle gesture for him to leave your apartment. He floundered, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but for once he kept quiet and listened to you. He slammed your door shut behind him, the sound both making you flinch and sealing the fate for your failed relationship.

You took a moment to regain your thoughts, and suddenly your apartment felt entirely too empty. Your roommate—no matter how much you didn’t get along—wasn’t around to distract you, having gone back to her hometown for the week. Though there wasn’t much love left in your relationship with Jon, you had still been with him for a substantial amount of time, and breakups hurt no matter what.

You wondered if it was fate, the mischievous force, that had your phone ringing only five minutes after Jon left. You glanced at the caller I.D. and your heart skipped a beat in your chest without your permission as you saw the familiar head of brown curls that popped up with the contact photo.

“Hello?” You questioned softly. Even to your own ears, your voice sounded strained. Internally, you cringed, not liking how you were so blatantly affected. You bit your lip, hoping he wouldn’t notice the change in your demeanor.

“Hey—wait, what’s wrong?” Tyson cut his own greeting short, picking up on your distress. In the background, you could hear people chatting loudly, and you remembered that Andre had decided to throw a house party. You had been invited, but declined the offer in order to get work done—though, it was highly unlikely that would be happening anytime soon. The noise faded, Tyson must have stepped outside, and when you didn’t answer his question after a moment, he called your name.

“Sorry, it’s—” You started, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing deeply to try and gather your thoughts. Tyson waited patiently, and you pushed away the thought that you could clearly picture his concerned face. His brows would be scrunched together in confusion as he tried to figure out what was wrong, and his lips would be in a miniscule pout that was simultaneously endearing and adorable. “It’s just Jon.”

“What happened? Did he do something?” Tyson rushed. He sounded annoyed, which you understood. Jon had done nothing but make passive aggressive comments to him whenever they were in the same room, and that was only if he even acknowledged his presence.

“No, not exactly.” You shook your head, even though you knew Tyson couldn’t see you. You didn’t want to tell him what had truly happened, not wanting to bring up the fact that he was the catalyst for the fight. “I broke up with him.”

“Oh.” He sounded relieved almost, but before you could question his reaction, he continued. “Do you want me to come over?”

“I think I want to go out, actually. You’re at Andre’s, right?” You sighed standing up from your couch and heading into your room to change into something a little more appropriate for a house party.

“Yeah. I’ll you soon, okay?” Tyson assured you, and you hummed in acknowledgment before bidding him goodbye. Your chest felt a lot lighter from just a simple phone call with him, and you wanted to curse yourself for the way he still had such an effect over you.

It was a little over twenty minutes later that you let yourself into Andre’s apartment, the building much more expensive than anything you could ever hope to afford. The place was packed from wall to wall with people bustling from one part of the party to the next. Sending a text to Tyson to let him know that you had arrived, you spotted Mikko heading into the kitchen. In desperate need for a familiar face and a strong drink, you followed after the tall blond.

“Hey, Rantanen.” You called, sliding in beside him as he poured a drink at the counter. He cheered loudly when he realized that it was you beside him, and not one of the dozens of girls that usually hung off his arm at parties.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming?” He questioned loudly, pulling you in for a quick side hug. He was well on his way to being drunk, and with the way the team had been playing lately, you figure he deserved it.

“Change of plans.” You shrugged, plastering a strained smile on your face. You didn’t want to air your dirty laundry out to a whole crowd of people, and while you were good friends with nearly the entire Avalanche roster by this point, Mikko didn’t know you well enough to see that you were hiding something.

“Tyson’s going to be so excited to see you.” He grinned broadly, leaning against the counter as you poured your own drink. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t have the time to analyze what Mikko’s words could have meant exactly. Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response, because an all-too familiar body made an appearance beside you.

“That, I am.” Tyson smiled, his arm finding its way around your middle and sitting comfortably on your side. His touch was both calming and setting you on fire, you hated that you didn’t mind the way he made you feel. “Mind if I steal her away?”

“Go ahead, buddy.” Mikko responded with mischief in his eyes, like he knew something you didn’t. His look only turned more devious when Tyson slipped his hand into yours in order to tug you gently in the direction of the kitchen’s exit. You smiled at the blond as a parting, nerves and stress consuming you and stopping from forming any actual words. Tyson was leading you through the party, using his large frame to create a path that you followed. You saw JT and Cale, chatting amongst themselves across the room, and when you waved at them, they gave you the same mischievous and knowing look as Mikko.

Tyson opened the balcony door and the cold Denver air made you shiver and shuffle closer to the brunette that had led you outside. The noise of the party quieted down once the door was shut, and you turned to Tyson, who was already looking to you with concern. His brows were furrowed and his lips in a slight pout—you hated that you still knew him as well as you did.

“Are you okay?” He settled on asking when it became clear that you certainly weren’t going to speak up first. You sighed quietly, stepping towards the railing and looking out to the skyline. You felt his gaze on the side of your face, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling to be seen by him.

“Honestly? I’m better than I should be. This was inevitable, really.” You explained. Part of you felt guilty for not being as heartbroken as you should have been, but the other part of you knew Jon wasn’t great, and he certainly wasn’t good for you.

“How so?” His question was asked quietly, and you pondered on how to answer without giving away how you truly felt, something you were still figuring out yourself.

He wasn’t you. You thought, but decided it was better to keep that to yourself. Silently, you cursed Tyson for letting communication die out between you and him, but it wasn’t fair to put all the blame on him. You had done your fair share of not responding to messages as it grew further and further from the summer months.

What you wouldn’t give to go back.

“I just wasn’t happy, you know?” You settled on saying with a shrug, and Tyson nodded once. You turned to face him, finding him already watching you with a nearly unreadable look on his face.

“I’m so sorry for how things ended between us, after that summer.” It was as if he was reading your mind, and you couldn’t get yourself to say anything. You wanted to tell him it wasn’t completely his fault, but instead you shook your head dumbfoundedly. His stare was pinning you to the ground, so many emotions swirling around in his eyes. “I missed you. Still do.”

“I’m right here?” You whispered, confusion lacing your words. He simply shook his head, taking a step closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he reached a hand up and softly cupped your cheek, making sure your gaze stayed on him. Not that you could tear your gaze from him even if you wanted to.

“Not like that. I’ve missed the old you. The old us.” The implication of his words hit you hard and fast, and suddenly your heart was racing as you melted into his touch. Your own hands reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt to try and ground yourself, but it was too late. Your head was in the clouds and your proximity to Tyson was keeping you there.

“I’m right here.” You said quietly and with more certainty. It happened slowly, how you were pulling yourself closer to Tyson and he was leaning down towards you. Your heart was hammering in your chest as your eyes fluttered shut. He grew near, and you tilted your head up meet him and—

“I thought you weren’t coming!”

Andre bursted through the door and out onto the patio. You jumped away from Tyson, cheeks heating up profusely at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position. The Swede winced, looking between you and Tyson, slowly piecing together that he had interrupted something with his inebriated outburst. “Oh, were you—”

“I didn’t see you when I got here, what have you been up to?” You ask hurriedly, interrupting whatever he planned on finishing his sentence with. You weren’t even sure what had nearly happened. Andre’s face lit up at your question, his original excitement at seeing you at the party returning.

“I’ve been playing pong. Want to be my partner?” He asked with a wide grin and you nodded.

You bit your lip, knowing there were things that needed to be said between you and Tyson. Both of you stayed silent a moment longer, and you knew you needed to go catch up with Andre. It was like a ghost of your past self took over, and you pushed yourself onto your tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, Tyson’s eyes were wide and a blush was creeping up his beck, but you didn’t give him time to react before you were slipping back inside the party. Your mind was both blank and racing at the same time, but one thing was for certain.

The not-quite kiss felt a little too right for your liking.

[boat-dock]

“Snapshots” chapter 3

Guess who’s actually being productive and writing over her holiday break!! I hope y’all enjoy this chapter and as always all feedback is appreciated and enjoyed

@schese

Chapter 3: “Far From Angelic” 

The royal wedding is happening in Scotland while Millie is home in Texas for the holidays, this is the longest they’ve been apart since they’d started dating and Millie finds that she is missing her girlfriend more than she anticipated.

Millie’s alarm tore through her peaceful sleep at the ungodly hour of 2:30 am. Groans came from around the room as she flailed blindly to turn it off. Every ounce of will power she had was used to drag herself from bed and into the sticky Texas air. Even during December it was still hot.

Without thinking she shoved Lee awake and loudly told Jude and Darcy -who were on the other side of the room still asleep- to get up and come downstairs. Things were strange with Jude still but they were getting better. Going away to Scotland had done her a world of good, well that, and the gorgeous princess she’d fallen for. She’d been emailing back and forth with Flora every day since she’d come back home and Flora had gone back to Edinburgh for the wedding. 

The wedding. That was the reason for her being up before the sun. This morning over a thousand miles away Prince Alexander was getting married and it was being broadcasted live all over the world and she and her friends were going to watch it.

They crawled down the stairs and crammed onto the couch, Darcy was asleep again as soon as she sat down. Lee started flipping through the channels searching for the program they needed. In the kitchen, Millie could hear her aunt Vi moving around making them breakfast and hopefully coffee. After clicking down the brightness Millie checked her phone to see a yellow notification.

A Snapchat from Nicola. They had exchanged social medias after their brief meeting but they had never reached out and on a day as hectic as this one she was confused as to why she would.

The video was from hours ago, that would be early even for the people in Scotland. She clicked it and the video that played brought a grin to her face.

Familiar golden hair and eyes appeared along with a dazzling grin. Her girlfriend’s makeup was done elegantly but her hair was still down and she seemed to be wearing some kind of silk robe. Behind her a cluster of makeup and hair people moved throughout the room. “Hello love!” She sang, giving a small wave. Ears perked up around the room and her friends leaned in closer to watch the video. “ I know you’re still asleep but I just wanted to say I miss you and I wish you were here.”

Millie’s heart skipped a beat and she is filled with an overwhelming longing for her girlfriend. They’d only been dating for a few months but she missed her like a missing limb now that they were apart. Long distance was not going to be easy.

A distant voice comes through now from somewhere beyond the phone,” Who are you talking to?” then Daisy’s face appears over Flora’s shoulder, with a champagne glass in hand. Next to her Lee leaned his head on her shoulder, letting his eyes start to drupe shut again.

“I’m sending a message to Quint,” Flora started, then backtracked,” Millie,” so that the others know who she is talking about.

“Hi Millie,” Daisy smiled, “I’m jealous that you’re still asleep right now” Millie chuckled as a voice that she couldn’t make out and was definitely in a different language got Flora’s attention.

“Got to go darling, time for hair,” she blew a kiss at the camera before it turned black.

She halfheartedly raked her fingers through her hair as she started to send a reply. “I am awake,” she announced as a form of greeting. “And so are all of my friends, well most of my friends,” she glanced around and to say they were awake would be a definite white lie,” and we are ready to watch this wedding.” Somewhere along the way someone’s legs ended up in her lap, they were all piled on top of each other so she didn’t know who they belonged to.

 “You look beautiful by the way,” Millie stifled a yawn and offered a sleepy smile. “And you need to remember to thank Nicola for letting you use her phone to talk to me,” it wasn’t a secret that Nicola didn’t not want to be in Scotland for the wedding and she was sure that Flora wasn’t making it any easier.

The sounds from the kitchen were getting louder and were followed by an amazing smell. Jude perked up beside her at the aroma and the tell tale beeps of the coffee pot. Despite this Millie kept talking,” I hope everything goes well today and tell everyone hi from me,” in the middle of her talking Vi’s voice sounds from the kitchen.

“Pancakes!” She calls and the formerly dead tired kids around her launched themselves from the couch effectively knocking Millie over and kicking the phone out of her hand.

They were beating her to breakfast. If she didn’t get there soon all the coffee would be gone, but she had to finish off this video before going. Slightly breathlessly and disheveled, she pulled the camera back to her face and breathed,” pancakes gotta go,” then threw the phone and bee lined for the kitchen.

After devouring their breakfast and downing their coffees they all made their way back to the living room and settled in front of the tv. Crowds of thousands lined the streets and cheered, waving flags and throwing flowers, as a line of cars drove through. Millie knew that somewhere coming up behind them was a carriage carrying the bride but all she could think about was that in one of those cars was Flora.

Beside her, her phone dinged with another message from Nicola.

The video started with Flora smiling at her while Seb took a swig from a small silver flask. “I want pancakes so bad right now,” she whined, but Millie almost didn’t hear a word she was saying.

Millie’s breath hitched in her throat. With her hair up in a dramatic updo and a tiara gracing her head, her girlfriend glowed like an angel and it was enough to stop Millie in her tracks and make her mind go blank.

Anyone who knew Flora knew she was far from angelic, but today she looked the part and no doubt she had been instructed to play it without fault. In the eyes of the media Flora was a rebellious party girl who lived for attention and drama, and they honestly were not wrong. That was what she had thought of the young princess when they first met, and she might have thrown in a few more explicit terms, but now after getting to know her there was a different side to Flora. It was hard to pinpoint the change. Her jabs became friendly instead of pointed and her smiles became genuine. She had chipped away at Millie’s defenses until she fell hopelessly head over heels for her.

She knew that Flora had wanted Millie to be at the wedding with her and had even gotten permission from the queen for her to come, but Millie had to decline.

She had been looking forward to going home for Christmas to see her friends and family since she left for school and it wasn’t fair to any of them if she decided to stay in Scotland over the holidays. Besides what would she do at a royal wedding besides stick out like a sore thumb.

“Roomy Quinte!” Seb exclaimed, obviously already quite tipsy despite how early it was and how important a day it was. “Welcome to the party.”

Millie grimaced and Flora shoved him away, but she seemed unconcerned. “I”m glad you’re up. We’re about to reach the church now so I will not be able to talk for a while, but I’m glad to be able to see you before we go.” Millie wasn’t sure how or why Flora still had Nicola’s phone but she really hoped that she remembered to thank the young girl, who had given up so much of her time to making sure everything went off without a hitch.

“That is enough Flora,” came the stern voice of her mother from behind the camera and for a split second Flora’s face hardened with rebellion before she skillfully pacified, determined not to cause any issues.

It wasn’t for her parent’s benefit but for her brother’s. Flora adores her older brother and this was one of the biggest days of his life -second only to his inevitable coronation day- and the pressure of it all was overwhelming. She was going to do everything she could to make it easier for them.

With a tense obviously fake smile, Flora said to her,” talk later my love and wish us luck.”

The screen clicked to black and Millie turned her attention back to the tv.  The cars had finally reached their destination and she caught half a glimpse of Flora and her finally exiting the vehicle before the video switched to the golden carriage adorned with flowers carrying Ellie and her father. Her face was covered in a large veil and Millie couldn’t get a clear look at her, but she could see the delicate lace that lined her arms.

She’d only met Ellie briefly, but she knew that she was kind and deeply in love and Millie’s heart warmed for her. Across the room aunt Vi shot her a look as Flora came back on screen and Millie blushed before rolling her eyes.

She knew that look and knew that when they were alone they would have to talk about it. Aunt Vi liked to pry and she had been suspiciously quiet on the topic of her dating a Scottish princess.

She had always had her future planned out, get a scholarship for college, then get into an amazing doctoral program for studying geology and a princess with an attitude problem didn’t fit into that plan. A future with Flora was a future that she had never imagined for herself but now as she imagined it, no matter how strange it might be it was what she wanted.

[maxrev]

Snapchat Shenanigans

For Virmire Week @spectrekaidanalenko​

Shepard and Kaidan overhear a convo between Ash and her youngest sister, Sarah. Shepard can't help but be curious and wants to know more. Kaidan is just the innocent bystander who gets roped into a challenge. 

Ashley grinned at the screen as she talked to her youngest sister, Sarah. A pang of loneliness and longing hit her so strongly, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She missed her mom and her sisters so damn much. Maybe after they caught Saren, the Normandy crew would get some leave and she could visit. Having had a big hand in helping raise her sisters after her dad died, she sometimes felt more like a mom to them rather than an older sister.

A call home after the fustercluck on Eden Prime was exactly what she'd needed to ground her to reality once again. Just for a few moments of normalcy and to chase away the pain of losing her entire squad. And the guilt. It wouldn’t last long and she knew it but damned if she wouldn’t ride the high for as long as she could, though. Sarah was the last one on to vid chat because they all knew they’d never get a chance to talk to Ashley otherwise.

Brought out of her reverie by the fond thought, she tuned into Sarah's conversation again. “How come you never send us Snapchats anymore? Are you too serious now, soldier girl?”

“Sarah...” Ashley sighed in annoyance. She tried to remember what it was like to be so young; she failed. “I just don’t have time for it anymore, okay? When I actually get a few minutes somewhere, I’ll play around with the app and send you something.”

Her little sister grinned wickedly, "I'll just bug you until you do!" Ashley groaned and Sarah added, "I want several. There are so many cool filters on it now! I’ll send you my favorites.”

Ashley couldn't keep from laughing, “Okay, okay, fine.”

Being silly had gotten them through the endless moves from colony to colony, the heartbreak and frustration of making and losing friends and beginning all over again, with their dad's deployments over the years. Sometimes, their mom had used Snapchat with them, first to bring some laughter into her daughter's lives and then as they began to leave the house, as a way to stay connected and have fun. It had become routine and those silly photos always showed up when Ash needed them most. Maybe Sarah needed them, too.

Thinking on the past, Ash didn’t realize Sarah was asking her something, a sly and calculating smile on her fresh, young face. oh no, this couldn't be good.

“Sooooo...you said you were serving on the Normandy with Commander Shepard, right?" At Ash's nod, she rushed on, words tumbling from her lips, "We all saw him on the news. He’s hot, Ash!"

"Shhhh!!! Sarah, stop!"

It was like she hadn't heard, “Do you get to talk to him a lot? Go on missions together and study strategies...side by side?” With every ounce of dramatics in her teenage voice, it echoed loudly from the vid. "Do you like him?” Before Ashely could even sputter a reply, Sarah added breathlessly, “Oh! And what about Major Alenko? We saw him too! I think you should go for one of them. They’re so...dreamy!” She gave a girlish sigh.

Despite being alone in her corner of the bay, Ashley felt her cheeks pinken and warm at Sarah’s assessment. A furtive glance to the left and behind her showed neither Wrex nor Garrus paying her any attention. She wasn’t entirely immune to either man's 'hot factor', as Sarah dubbed it, but it wasn't a path she wanted to head down.

“Sarah, you know damn well there’s no fraternization. They’re both my superiors and I wouldn’t do anything to mar dad’s memory or make the Williams name look worse. Dad fought for every posting, remember?”

The look of excitement ebbed from Sarah’s face and Ashley fought the pain of not being able to give her little sister a hug. Maybe she’d been too harsh but...Sarah wasn’t a child anymore. Bringing her omni-tool up, she tapped a few buttons and an image of her with a silly, squashed face came on the screen.

She sent it to Sarah. “Message incoming.”

A beep sounded over the airwaves and Sarah glanced down at her own omni tool. She grinned and laughed, looking up at Ashley with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Happy now?"

"Yes! Thank you. I'm going to show it to all my friends at school...oh, and mom and Abby and Lynn, too."

Wonderful. Just the kind of thing the world needed to see about the Normandy crew right now. "Sarah, I don't think it's a good idea to be showing anyone outside the family."

Sarah wasn't listening, typing fast and furious on her omni-tool.

"Show who what?"

Caught unawares, Ashley jumped and squeaked simultaneously. When she turned to see who it was, she wished the floor would open up and shoot her into space. Right now would be perfect, too.

Ashley saluted smartly. "Uh…nothing, sir. Just having a chat with my sister."

Sarah's awed voice floated towards them, "Commander Shepard…"

He grinned and waved at the screen, "One and the same. Who am I having the pleasure of speaking with?"

Ashley stared at him. He was engaged in a conversation with her sister. Oh no, this could not go well at all. For any of them. Sarah would talk his ear off first while also embarrassing Ashley, without even trying.

"You okay, Ash?"

She squeaked again. Good grief, she sounded like a damn mouse...hadn't seen the LT either. Double shit. She was a goner for sure. Might as well go pack her rucksack and be ready to disembark at the next stop.

"Just fine, LT. Didn't mean to take up so much time on my vid call. Sarah can...go on a bit." She'd completely forgotten he and Shepard were doing duty station inspections.

He chuckled, crossing his arms and relaxing with a tilt of his head at the screen. "So I see."

Ashley turned and heard Shepard ask, "Snapchat? What is it? Don't think I'm familiar with it and I have a lot of apps on my omni-tool."

Oh hell freaking no. This wasn't happening to her. Several thoughts ran through her head, vying for attention: Sarah could not show him Snapchat, couldn’t tell him he was hot, couldn’t ask him if he liked her sister and...wait, Shepard had apps on his 'tool? As the thoughts tumbled over and over, she realized something else…

Kaidan had snorted with amusement when Shepard mentioned he had lots of apps. Turning to look at him, she wondered just how well he knew their CO. Something else occurred to her. She gazed at Shepard in a new light. He was just as ordinary as the rest of them on this ship. Easy to forget when he seemed larger than life.

Loud enough to speak over her sister’s gushing voice, Ash said, “We really need to go, Sarah. We have inspections and we’ve taken up enough of Commander Shepard’s time.”

“Oh...yeah, sorry.” She looked crestfallen.

“We have?” Shepard turned those clear blue eyes on Ashley, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Wait...he was enjoying this? What about the inspections? Protocol? Or her soon to be embarrassment. Hadn’t happened yet but it was inevitable.

“Uh, well…” She wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Shepard turned back to Sarah, “So tell me how this Snapchat works.” He played with his omni-tool. “Okay, it’s downloaded, now what do I do?”

Sarah launched into an explanation of what the app was, what it did, the different filters and how to take a picture. Shepard alternated looking at her face on the screen and his omni-tool, confusion written on his face.

“Hang on.” Typing on her own ‘tool, a ping soon came from Shepard’s. “Just to get an idea of what you’ll be doing.”

Standing next to Kaidan, Ash felt paralyzed, hoping Sarah hadn’t sent him something ridiculous...or incriminating. Glancing at her CO, she was surprised to see his shoulders shaking. Oh no. Her eyes connected with Sarah’s in the vid, laughter in their depths. She had a sudden sneaking suspicion.

“Hey, LT, come take a look at this will you? I don’t think the message came through correctly.” He was clearly struggling to speak.

Kaidan stepped up next to him, looking at the ‘tool. He smiled wide, giving Ash a side-eyed glance. Shit. She was going to jail for killing her little sister. All the sacrifices she’d made in the name of her career, only to be taken out by a teenager.

The LT called her over. “Ash, can you come here? I think we need another opinion.”

Dreading every step she made closer to the two of them, she approached warily. Shepard thrust his ‘tool closer so she could see what they were looking at. It was the photo she’d just sent Sarah right before they’d walked up. In the snap, she had a squashed face and bowl type haircut.

Yep, going to be taken in for murder. Looking up at the screen, she saw Sarah looking back at her, childish glee in her eyes, a smile playing about her lips. All the annoyance drained out of her. How could she be mad at her baby sister? Turning thoughtful, she had an idea. There was another way to play this.

She smiled. Crossing her arms and leaning back on one leg, she gazed at Shepard and said, a challenge in her tone, “Yep, that’s me, playing with Snapchat. Bet you can’t do any better than that.”

Hearing Kaidan choke on a laugh, she knew she was on to something. Shepard stood up straight the look on his face enough for her to know he was going to take the challenge.

He affirmed her assessment, “You’re on.”

The next thing Ashley knew, all three of them were in a Snapchat war. From behind them, she could hear Sarah struggling to suck in air between wheezing. When she could speak, it was to egg them on. Before long, all of them were giggling like idiots, tears rolling down their faces, doubled over in laughter. They couldn’t continue, unable to even hold their ‘tools up to take photos anymore.

When they could finally breathe, they looked up. The looks on Garrus' and Wrex's faces had them falling into fits of laughter all over again. One by one, they slid to the floor, piling against each other in a tangle of limbs, trying desperately to come back to some sense of normal.

Sarah’s voice ghosted over their heads, “Hey! Where’d you all go? Are you still there?”

Shepard spoke up, “Still here Sarah. We just...needed a break.”

Ashley stood up, smiling fondly at her little sis, still wiping tears from her eyes. “Time to go, sis. I’ve got work to do. Enough play time.”

A pout formed on her lips, “But...I want to see the snaps. I was so excited.”

Feeling the LT and her CO stand up behind her, Ashley started to say something but Shepard beat her to it. “We’ll look through them and see which ones actually turned out. I think all of us were having trouble between the laughter. Okay, Sarah?”

If her face lit up anymore, Ashley figured she could light the colony. “Yeah, that’d be great!” Then she smiled shyly, “I could...uh...send you all some of mine, if you want.”

“That would be really great, Sarah,” smiled Kaidan over Ash’s shoulder. “We better let you go now. Thanks for the fun.”

She nodded and cut the feed. This call was going to cost Ash big, she knew it. She just wasn’t sure how much, beyond the credits she'd have to pay for going over her time limit.

Turning, she regarded the two men with a suddenly serious face. “I can’t thank you both enough for making my little sister’s day. I just want you to know, I didn’t plan this and I’m sorry things got out of hand.”

Their smiles died quickly, replaced by confusion. They looked at each other, then back at her. “Ashley, we enjoyed this as much as you. We all need to let loose and laugh. Don’t worry about the length of the call and you certainly aren’t in trouble. In fact,” Shepard added, “next time you plan on calling Sarah, let me know. I always need new apps.”

Relief surged through her and she let out a deep sigh. “Yes, sir. I’ll do so. Just remember, she really loves to talk. And loves her apps. You might get more than you bargained for.”

Kaidan groaned, shaking his head. “Which means I’ll be busy fixing his omni-tool and cleaning it up as per usual.”

Feeling more like she fit in than ever, Ashley grinned. He probably would be. She’d seen first hand their CO wasn’t very tech savvy. The one area she’s seen him fall short in.

“Well, we’d better get back to it. Keep up the good work here. Your station is clean, organized and the weapons are working better than ever.” Shepard clapped her on the shoulder and he and Kaidan turned to leave. How he even noticed with all that transpired, Ashley didn't know.

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” she called after them.

His lips twitched with humor at the nickname. Ash knew she was going to enjoy this posting after all.

[princess-of-crepes]

So much stuff happened in the 2010s

▪People thought the world would end in 2012

▪The iPad was created

▪Instagram, Snapchat, and Vine were created

▪Musically was created and then TikTok replaced it

▪3D printing became widespread and biomedical 3D printing became available

▪Most of the Twilight movies came out

▪All of The Hobbit movies came out

▪All of The Hunger Games movies came out

▪All of the Divergent books and movies came out

▪Rose gold and millennial pink were all the rage

▪Dying your hair in a variation of ombre is what everyone did

▪Unicorn everything: unicorn cupcakes, unicorn smoothies, unicorn hair

▪Dashcon was a thing

▪Our memes went from pictures with a top and bottom caption to random phrases, noises, and sounds

▪The kids born in 2000 and 2001 became adults

▪Every middle school girl was obsessed with The Selection series

▪Same sex marriage is legalized in Iceland, Brazil, Uruguay, Argentina, Denmark, France, Luxemburg, the United States, Ireland, Colombia, Finland, Malta, Germany, Australia, Austria, Taiwan, and Ecuador

▪We saw the rise in child influencers on social media sites such as Musical.ly and Instagram

▪Reaction videos, where someone reacts to another video while commenting (usually accompanied with a video game in the background) became all the rage in the middle of the decade

▪Tea channels started popping up on YouTube

▪Beauty influencers, from Bethany Mota to Jaclyn Hill, James Charles to Jeffree Star, dominated the YouTube platform

▪All the 12 year olds started playing Minecraft. Then, they started playing Fortnite

▪Contouring and Baking became a thing in makeup. Makeup now emphasized a lot more skill

▪A climate change movement started, especially among younger people. Greta Thunberg was named Person of the Year

▪The Costa Concordia, MV Sewol, Dongfang zhi Xing, MV Neyerere and others sunk at sea

▪William and Kate got married; Harry and Meghan also got married

▪Everyone got a smartphone; flip phones are considered outdated now

▪India got more widespread access to the internet

▪Cornell's acceptance rate dropped from 24.7% to 14.1%. Harvard's dropped from 9.3% to 5.4%. More people are going to university than ever, and gaining access to top universities is harder than ever

▪Uber was invented, and is now widely used

▪Netflix became the big way to watch shows and movies

▪Blockbuster ceased operations; the last Blockbuster operates in Oregon

▪Kim Kardashian married twice; the Kardashians became a household name (Oh, and Kim is studying to be a lawyer and Kylie became the youngest self-made billionaire)

▪It has become more acceptable now than ever to express yourself the way you want, and to identify with the identity you best feel you identify with

▪Lady Gaga wore the meat dress to the VMAs

▪The Mannequin Challenge was big; planking was also a thing this decade, along with the Ice Bucket Challenge and Cinnamon Challenge

▪Pokemon Go made people happy for a month

▪An Earthquake in Haiti killed hundreds of thousands of people and affected millions

▪Greece economic crisis; Greece was bailed by the EU in 2010 and the country is still recovering

▪The Space Shuttle program ended; people started entertaining the idea of taking private trips to space

▪Hipster culture, and other cultures such as E-Girl and VSCO girl culture (by the way, VSCO was also created this decade)

▪South Korea and its culture became popular in the west, with K-pop and K-dramas among others

▪Dubstep and trap music rose in popularity

▪Selfies began to become trendy; the duck face annoyed a lot of people

▪Facebook became a playground for older generations as newer generations began to move on to other things

▪Vaping became a popular thing to do. Teen smoking rates had decreased, and then they increased again with the introduction of vaping

▪Superhero movies and movies that use a lot of CGI

▪Speaking of CGI, every movie now wanted to use it. Two dimensional movie forms began to be shafted for CGI movies

▪Live action movies, especially based on Disney's former movies, became all the rage for the studios

▪Speaking of, Disney has been busy increasing its market share; if I remember correctly, the top five highest grossing films of 2019 were made by Disney

▪Disney released another Star Wars trilogy. People had a lot of mixed feelings

▪Clothing began to become more form-fitting, and atheleisure wear became popular

▪Curvy body types began to become very popular in media; at one point, the dad bod was also popular, though for most of the decade the desirable shape for men was muscular and for women curvy

▪There was a point when there were a lot of talks about Mars colonization; around that time, a lot of space movies also came out

▪Animal Crossing New Leaf was released almost 7 years ago

▪Fire Emblem saw a revival with the success of Fire Emblem Awakening

▪Authors began to self-publish a lot more

▪ISIS rose to the public's awareness, and news of European/American teens joining the Caliphate shocked people everywhere. The last major news about ISIS was in 2019, when the US defeated Al-Baghdadi

▪Siri, and other voice assists such as Cortana and Alexa were invented and became widely used. Smart homes were now more popular as well

▪Human like robots, which are getting better and better, became popular in the public's eye

▪Tiny Houses became more popular; effective living and substituting became trendy (i.e. cubic zirconium instead of diamonds)

▪Political provocateurs became popular on YouTube

▪We got both the first clear picture of a black hole and of Pluto

▪Solar panels became used more widely

▪Paying through your phone became a thing. If anyone remembers, paying from your hand was also tried out

▪The rise in mobile gaming

▪The 3ds was released in 2011

▪Bitcoin, and by extension block chain, became much more popular

▪Twitch was launched, and people started earning loads of money through livestream donations

▪Memes' lifespans became much shorter

Obviously there are way, way more things I didn't cover. Keeping that in mind, I'm curious to see what the next decade holds for us

[amydancepants-peralta]

#28 from the Fictober prompts! I absolutely adore your fics! Xo

Here’s a little bit of fun for you, Anon!  😊

#28 -  “Enough!  I heard enough.”

Set in S7 😝.   (A thousand thank you’s to @b99peraltiago for helping me with this one!  You’re the best Adele 😃)

classified information

“Enough!  I’ve heard enough.”  Shaking his head in defeat, Jake slaps one hand across his brow, wedding band feeling cold against the bridge of his nose.  Taking in a deep breath, he tries to regulate his thoughts before letting his hand slide further down.

The knife-twisting-in-his-gut feeling that came from a betrayal like this didn’t seem to be subsiding.  If anything, as his hand slides down towards his neck and Jake looks over at his wife, the feeling was only getting worse.

She has the decency to look morose as she watches him react to her news, eyebrows knitting together to form that are you okay expression that has pulled so many confessions out of him in the past.  Her eyes and wide and sincere, and he knows - he knows - that she never intended to hurt him.  

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” she whispers, eyes full of regret as she takes a tiny step closer.  Instinctively, Jake takes a responding step backwards.  “I wanted it to come from me.”  Her voice firmer, she shakes her head.  “It should have come from me.”

Jake shakes his head.  “Doesn’t change what happened.” He’s being petulant, he knows.  But he just can’t believe what he’s just heard.  He tells her as such, shaking his head as both hands land on either hip.  “I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”

Amy’s shoulders drop, her hands moving to fold in front of her chest as she watches him carefully.  “I couldn’t have, Jake.  You know that.”

Realistically, she’s right.  He knows that she’s right.  And what’s worse - he knows that she knows that he knows she’s right.  But the truth still cuts like a knife.  “Not even a text, Ames?” he mumbles, casting his eyes to the floor before looking back up.  “A sneaky photo or two?”

She sighs, her shoulders rising and falling with the action, and suddenly he’s desperate for the feeling of her arms around him.  “I’ve told you already, babe.  It was - ”

“Classified information.” They say it in unison, Jake’s tone noticeably less interested in the importance of such a concept.  

There had been less than an hour left in his shift when he first heard the whispers - that there had been a theft at a film set not far from the precinct.  He’d shrugged, less than interested - Brooklyn was often the go-to location for film shoots.  This was New York, after all. And after his less than favourable foray into TV sets, Jake had made it a personal rule not to get involved in the trappings of Hollywood. 

Then the rumours began to grow.  It’s a High Profile set.  A big star is involved, they said.  So big, that only the Sarge is involved. 

And to be honest, when Jake heard Sarge, his mind went straight to Terry.  To him, Amy was just Ames - his wife; his moon and stars … the love of his life.  He rarely referred to her as Sarge. (Except, you know, occasionally.  For Sexy Reasons.  Because, when somebody as sexy as Amy Santiago stands in front of you in full uniform and tells you to start stripping, you comply.)  

And then he remembered that Terry was a Lieutenant now, and that the Sergeant they were referring to was most likely Amy, and Jake grew a little more curious about this supposed Big Star.  He’d even sent her a text, mentioning the whispers, and when she replied only a moment later with an It’s no big deal, babe - nothing exciting, he’d pushed it all out of his mind.

Turns out it was, in fact, a big deal.

A big deal, because the secret celebrity that Amy met with today, was none other than Bruce Willis.

Bruce Willis.  

AKA, John McClane.

Jake’s wife, Amy Santiago, had met Bruce Willis today.  And she hadn’t even called him.

Or texted.  

Or snuck in a sneaky selfie, immediately-erasable-via-Snapchat-stylez.  

She had touched the brightest star in the cosmos, and hadn’t even brought him back a sparkle.  

There were so many things wrong with this situation, Jake genuinely didn’t know where to begin.

In the end, it was Gina who spilled the beans.  Which was impressive really, considering she didn’t even work at the Nine-Nine anymore (and there would be some who debate if she ever really did).  Sending Jake a text about how ‘ya wife had just upped her cool points by spending the afternoon with Bruce Willis’, and ‘also do you think Arnie could ask Bruce if he would attend my next book launch party?’ - a text that Jake had stared at for a solid five minutes, distracted only when Amy swung open the front door of their apartment, finally home after what had obviously been a huge day.  

Her smile had been bright, and on any other day Jake would have pulled her in for a kiss, but the idea of Amy meeting his childhood hero and not telling him was still hanging over Jake’s head, and he found himself rooted to the spot.  

It had taken her mere seconds to confess, in a way that in hindsight made Jake realise that she had, in fact, wanted to tell him all day - but hearing the details was turning out to be worse than not knowing at all.

Because not only had Amy met Bruce Willis, she got to walk around a film set ALL DAY with him.  Met his co-stars - interviewing various actors for information regarding the case; having lunch with him when the clues took longer to catalog than she had anticipated.  Shared his salad, in fact, when she realised that she was allergic to all the options available at craft services.

All of this, while Jake was sitting at his stupid dumb desk, writing up boring paperwork for his mundane grand theft auto case.  

Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.  And so he raised his hands in surrender, calling out Enough!, and for now their apartment was quiet.

He feels his head drop, and in a second Amy’s gentle hands are on his arms, and it’s like a drop of water in the middle of a desert.  Jake’s arms are around her waist in a millisecond, pulling Amy closer, sighing as the comfort of the touch of his favourite person.  They stay like that for a few minutes, both of them too comfortable to move, until Jake pulls away with a mumble about taking a shower.  

She offers her company, and he shakes his head no - unable to push away the morose feeling that was hanging over his head, a heavy storm cloud threatening to break at any second.  It must be obvious to her, how he’s feeling (and in a way, it probably always is), and he watches her face turn from contemplative to confused, arms returning to their crossed position in front of her chest.  “Are you … angry at me about this?”

Jake shrugs, noncommittal in his response.

Amy’s eyes narrow into an all-too-familiar look.  “Jake, I was assigned this case because of my discretion.  Of course I thought of you when I realised who I was interviewing today.  But I had to be careful, babe.  If we’d compromised such a publicised case like this … it would have been disastrous.”  Her forehead creases as she looks down at the floor.  “What’s more, it would have reflected poorly on me.”

Jake feels his heart drop down to his feet as the realisation that his reaction to Amy’s day has only made her doubt herself.  He knows that in the larger scale of things, he was probably overreacting to it all.  Perhaps it was the fact that his birthday was around the corner, and he was getting closer and closer to facing that number 40.  Or that whenever he’d brought up the topic of the upcoming celebration for said birthday, his friends and colleagues seemed less than enthusiastic about doing anything with him.  Whatever the reason, he just couldn’t shake the feelings swimming around his mind.  Clearing his throat, he looks up at Amy, waiting until her head has lifted before speaking.  “I’m not angry at you, Ames.  I’m not.  I just … it just kills me that I wasn’t there.  And that I found out from Gina.”

Amy’s mouth twists slightly.  “I get that.  I was trying to get home to tell you as quickly as I could.”  She hesitates.  “Honestly, if anything I would’ve expected it to come from Boyle.”

“BOYLE?”  Jake replies, eyes widening.  “Charles was there?”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip.  “Kind of, yeah.”

Will this horrible day EVER end?  He shakes his head, despondent, repeating his need to take a shower.  Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could wash this whole thing away.

*

An hour has passed when Amy runs her hand along the back of Jake’s shoulders, the familiar scent of her favourite perfume wafting over him as she moves from the back of the couch to stand in front of him.  He looks up, trying his best to plaster on an I’m fine face, a mask he knows she can see straight through, already feeling ridiculous for such petulant behaviour earlier.  

She smiles, reaching her hand out for his.  “You and I need to get out of this house, babe.”

His hand grabs hers, as automatic an action as breathing by now, and shakes his head.  “I’m not sure I’d be the best company tonight, Ames.”

Her fingers squeeze, tugging slightly until he’s being pulled from the couch.  “You’re the only company I could ever want, Peralta.  Now come on, let’s just grab dinner somewhere.  I’ve got the perfect place in mind.”

Jake’s nose is buried in a game on his phone for the majority of the drive to their destination, and when Amy pulls their car into the parking space he looks around in confusion, eyebrows knitting when he doesn’t recognise any of the storefronts his eyes catch.  “Ames?” he asks, turning towards his wife, cocking his head to the side when she winks in response.

“So maybe I’m not thinking dinner after all,” she giggles, pointing towards the sign just slightly outside Jake’s peripheral.  An oversized panel, with flickering fluorescent letters spelling out Johnny’s Laser Tag lights up the otherwise dark carpark.  “I think that maybe you need to blow off some steam.”

He smiles, the first genuine smile in what feels like the entire evening, nodding enthusiastically when she mentions that she’d also ordered a pizza to be delivered to the same address.  She really is his Dream Girl.  And it was ridiculous of him to have reacted the way that he did.  

The apology is still forming in his head as he follows her into the building, not noticing the lack of literally anybody else until they’re well past the front lobby, Amy’s hand tugging him towards the central game zone with an eagerness he hasn’t seen all night.  He’s trying to slow her down, pull her back towards him for a second, when suddenly there’s a bright flash of light, and an overwhelming shout of SURPRISE!

He’s blinking in confusion and Amy is grinning and he can hear the unmistakable squeal of an overexcited Charles somewhere in the background, and when all of the elements finally merge together in his mind, Jake realises that just about every person he has ever met is standing in front of him, smiling from ear to ear.  There are happy birthday banners and balloons and streamers and music playing in the background, and he’s so happy that he could just about burst.  Without hesitation, he pulls Amy in for a kiss, so full of joy and love and gratitude for her that words have completely failed him.  

It’s another hour before he notices Amy checking her phone almost obsessively, brushing off his questions with her multiple methods of (admittedly successful) distraction.  He’s one more glance away from pulling her into a quiet corner so that he can finally figure out what is on her mind when she checks her watch and grins, pulling him to the centre of the room and using her best Librarian Shush to pull the room into silence.  

She announces to the crowd that while they had all been incredibly successful in surprising Jake that evening, there was still one more tiny surprise up her sleeve.  Boyle, doing a terrible job of keeping his cool, saunters through the crowd until he reaches the front door, swinging it open with such a flourish Jake wonders if perhaps his friend’s true career path is on stage in Broadway.  

The thought is fleeting, however, because immediately after that, his heart stops - jaw dropping in shock.

In the doorway, smiling and holding out a celebratory bottle of wine, is none other than Bruce Willis.  

Bruce Willis, his favourite actor ever and the man behind the character that convinced Jake to join the NYPD, was at his birthday party.  

In the days to come, stories would be retold of Jake’s party at the local laser tag.  They would mention how drunk Gina got before challenging Boyle to a dance off (which ended, predictably, in disaster); how handsy Amy got after a few drinks and kept pulling her husband into the darker corners; and how Terry had challenged Rosa to a row of shots before failing terribly three hits of tequila in.  

But Jake’s favourite memory, and the one he will treasure forever, is of him and Bruce (because they’re friends now, and friends call each other by their first names, just like he and Bruce do), strapping on laser gun holsters, McClane Stylez, and dominating the Laser Tag zone like they were saving Nakatomi Plaza all over again.  When he retells the story, Amy will roll her eyes, telling whatever audience that the two of them took things way too seriously, and that by the end everyone had just given up and let Jake play out his Die Hard dreams.  

Afterwards, the actor had told Jake about how incredibly good Amy was at her job (information that was not new to Jake at all), and that when she had solved the on-set theft so quickly and discreetly, dropping by to meet her husband (or his number one fan as Amy had put it), seemed like the least he could do.  Even admitted that maybe the stories he had heard from Reginald VelJohnson had stemmed from a misunderstanding, promising to set the story straight next time the two met.  

Later that evening, when everyone had returned to their homes and Amy’s Holly Gennero costume had made a welcome resurrection, Jake would hold his wife close to him, whispering apologies for his earlier reactions.  She understood him, in a way that nobody ever really had, and having her beside him was truly the best part of any day, hands down.  And the fact that she had managed to pull off the greatest surprise ever, only made him love her all the more.

Plans to get in contact with Will Shortz before Amy’s birthday in September run through Jake’s mind as he closes his eyes, the soft sound of Amy’s gentle snores lulling him to sleep.  If he got to meet his hero, it seemed only fair that Amy would get to meet hers.  

(With any luck, this puzzle master would be a little less gorgeous.)

[kaizen-design-studio]

REACH THE RIGHT AUDIENCE THROUGH A CORPORATE VIDEO

Pune is becoming the hub for corporate videos. Owing to demand, you can now easily find a good corporate video production company in Pune. The keyword here is good. With good, there’s also bad and ugly. So, make sure you are hiring the right corporate video production company who will help you reach your audience in the fastest growing form of communication – video.

Videos are a great way to grab attention. We are a moving into a world where visual communication is best way to get your communication across. Videos are now an integral part of everyday life. Even social media sites are pushing videos. Just run through your Facebook timeline through your phone, and you will find a large number of sponsored video posts. Video communication and campaigning is the future. Videos can be used for –

Corporate videos have multiple uses. You can use them as training videos, brand stories, product promotions, new launches, service updates, etc. There’s a lot you can do and say through corporate videos. Corporate videos are also a mark of a professional company. The best companies invest a lot in video content, and make great use of these videos through their marketing and advertising channels.

First and foremost, you need to set your goals from video production. Then, you’ll need the right corporate video company in Pune who can do justice to your end goals. These videos also need to be of high quality. In the age of 4K and Ultra HD, 2D and 3D animation, etc., your ads need to be of the highest quality. They need to be well written, produced, and edited. Consumers are now used to high quality videos, and anything lesser might be ignored.

Videos are quite hot on social media. According to studies, people are more likely to read and share a video they like than an article or blog. This has also prompted social media platforms to give more precedence to videos posts. Most businesses today also have their own YouTube channels, where they can upload and promote their videos. Other social media platforms also allow you to promote these videos directly from the source. This shows that social media platforms have consciously decided to push videos. Therefore, if you wish to incorporate social media marketing into your marketing, you need to have videos to upload.

The rise of social media platforms like Instagram and Snapchat, where pictures and videos are the main form of communication, is another reason why video production has become all the more important. Video sharing is also quite easy, and hassle-free, thanks to sites like Vimeo, Daily Motion and YouTube. The embedded codes provided by them simply have to be copied and pasted.

Videos for advertising set alarm bells ringing as, you may think of expensive commercials you see on television. This is not the case. Any corporate video production company in Pune can make a good video for you, and once you promote it online, you can have a better reach than television. Remember, television is limited to only a certain section of audience, and viewership is limited. If you want a higher viewership, you will have to pay more. Whereas, through the internet, you can easily target and reach potential customers. You will also get measurable data when you do video campaigns. This data will help you decide future campaigns.

Videos also help a lot in marketing. Your marketing personnel can use videos to show demos of products and services. Research shows that videos are far more effective than instruction manuals. These videos can also be used for digital marketing. There’s a paradigm shift taking place in digital marketing, and as mentioned above, videos are getting more eyeballs. So, short, catchy, creative videos will help your business a lot. There are social media platforms just dedicated to video, so, you can campaign on such sites, and gather good leads for your business.

As much as content plays an important role in marketing, video is now taking its place. After research in countries where people use a lot of social media, it has been found that people do not want to read a lot. They would much rather watch a video online. Why?

• Videos interact on a more intimate level. They engage more senses than content. Plus, moving images stimulate the brain more. We live in a world with short attention spans, so, a video is the better way to catch attention. • Wonder why people prefer to see the movie than read the book? Because it is easier to remember. Our brain stores visual data better than textual data. So, it is easy to remember a product if you see a visual image (this is also a reason why companies create brand logos, rather than just text). • In a video, you can say and show more in a short amount of time than with written content. This is one of the main reasons why communication is shifting towards video. • Though written content is cheaper, video content prices are coming down. Companies can now choose a good corporate video company in Pune at who will do their work on a reasonable budget. And, in the long run, videos will bring in more business.

A good corporate video production company in Pune will explain to you all the processes involved in making the video. You can stay in the loop and understand the making process. You can also ask them to collaborate with your digital marketer, so together, they can strategize and make optimal videos. Or better yet, you can simply look for an agency which provides corporate video and digital marketing services. This way, you can get better deals, and they will make videos that can be used well across your digital marketing channels. Therefore, don’t wait anymore.

[jankyunsolved]

Title: Find Balance [in your life] Summary: Who knew Steven Lim could inspire Ryan to go home to his two favorite people?

Or: Ryan Bergara works too hard and neglects what’s important, but his partners welcome him home anyway.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983251

Sara 💓: The bed is cold without you.

Ryan glanced at his phone and did a double take when he saw it was a text from his group chat with Shane and Sara. He picked up his phone with shaking hands, the coffee he just finished still rushing through his veins, and opened the text.

When was the last time he saw Sara? Shane, he saw almost every day, but Sara? He hadn’t slept at their place since they announced the launch of Watcher, and that was weeks ago. He slept at his much closer house, or as of late, on the floor of the office for cat naps.

He’d been working nonstop on getting videos edited, checking Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, and Twitter, meeting with sponsors and completing paperwork; creating their own channel was a never ending job.

Shane’s been working from home for almost a week and a half due to a minor disagreement between them (first big fight since he began dating Shane and Sara, and Ryan couldn’t even remember what it was about, so he tripled his workload instead of dealing with it) and Steven left for the night a few minutes ago, so Ryan was alone, frantically working on edits and posts that could probably wait until Monday.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. It was already 9:53, and if he could just finish this final edit, he might be able to leave and sleep in his own bed by 1:00AM before coming back to the office bright and early on a Saturday to try and get ahead. “Sorry,” he started to type. “Work calls.” He almost hit send when he got a notification that Steven posted a video on Instagram.

He watched the video. It was Steven in that very office, and Ryan must’ve been making coffee when he made it, because his workstation was dark and empty.

It was just Steven, sitting in a chair in an empty room, talking. But what he had to say was more inspirational than Ryan was expecting. Taking care of yourself, fostering your relationships, finding hobbies, leaving work when the temptation is there to keep working.

Ryan felt like he couldn’t breathe, one phrase echoing inside his head: “My identity doesn’t only live in my work.” He looked around his small space, at his open laptop and desktop, at the lack of pictures, doodles, little knick knacks that would usually surround him as he worked. Plain white. And he knew that they were moving to an even bigger office soon, but that didn’t stop Steven or Shane from decorating their small space.

He pushed himself away from his desk, ducking his head between his knees. Anxiety rippled through his body. How much has Watcher taken over my life?

After breathing and waiting for the wave of nausea to leave, he opened his texts and flinched at what he almost texted Sara. “God, what a fucking fool,” he whispered as he erased what he typed and simply wrote, “I’m coming home.” He hoped that not only would Sara welcome him this late, but that whatever happened between him and Shane could be squashed as well. “Wishful thinking,” Ryan said, pulling himself back to his desk. “I don’t even know what we fought about.”

He saved what he was working on, turned off all the tech in the small office that they were temporarily occupying, and glanced at the board. 80,000 subscribers. 20,000 away from the goal their sponsors were expecting to be met by January 10th. How to get 20,000 over a holiday…

“Stop,” Ryan said out loud. “Business can wait until Monday. Sara is waiting for you, and maybe Shane too.”

He put on his backpack, turned off the lights, and made his way to the elevator, waving to the security guard who was stationed on the floor. With laser focus, Ryan pressed the down button, got on the elevator, and went to the parking garage beneath the building.

Keys in hand, Ryan ran to his car. The quicker he got in his car, the less likely he was gonna turn around and go back to work. He blasted music in his car, a mix of local LA rappers and the metal of his youth, to make sure he stayed awake, and then he made his way to Shane and Sara’s apartment.

Traffic was terrible, as always, and he made it to their apartment a little after eleven. He parked his car in the last available parking spot and then grabbed his bag, hesitating for a moment. He looked at his phone and saw that Sara responded.

Sara 💓: I’ll reheat a snack for you.

He didn’t know what to say. How could he thank her when he was being the worst? He took a shuddering breath and opened his car door.

 It’s now or never.

He had keys to their apartment, so he didn’t waste time by knocking on the door. He just unlocked it and stepped inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. He slipped off his shoes and lined them up with the others that were in the entryway and dropped his bag by Sara’s.

There were few lights on in the apartment. The Christmas tree was lit up, and Ryan saw Obi curled up beneath it, watching him. The light was on in the kitchen, and Ryan went there first. Standing at the microwave was Sara, in an old t-shirt that she usually slept in. She turned and looked at Ryan, and the genuine smile that graced her mouth brought tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly, as if she could see and feel his fragility. “We had Chinese and we got all your favorites, which you can eat tomorrow.” Just before the microwave beeped, Sara turned and opened it, taking out two egg rolls on a small plate.

Ryan beamed and stepped fully into the kitchen, reached for Sara and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood in silence, Sara leaning into Ryan as he devoured the eggrolls, his hands shaking as he consumed something that wasn’t a granola bar or coffee. She had her arm wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

When he was finished, she took the plate from him and washed it and Ryan dried it before putting it back in its place. Then he finally looked at Sara again and blew out a heavy breath. “Shane?” he asked, not sure what he was asking, not sure what he was wanting to know.

“Downstairs, getting some sheets from the dryer.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and looked up at him. “You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.”

“Bed?”

Ryan shrugged. “I just had coffee and I need to shower and my mind is just running running running—“ Ryan froze when Sara interrupted him with a kiss, sensing he was on his way to a rambling frenzy.

“Shower. Sleepy Time Tea. Bed. I already set out clothes for you in the bathroom.”

“Oh Sara,” he kissed her softly and she sighed against his mouth. “What did I do to deserve you?”

-----

Ryan turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain just as there was a knock on the unlocked door. “Yeah?” It opened slowly, and there was Shane with a towel folded over his arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Ryan smiled, stepped out of the tub and onto the mat.

“Hey.” He reached for the towel that Shane had, but paused when Shane closed the distance, unfolded it, and began gently drying him off with the still warm towel. He must’ve dried it with the sheets. Ryan’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but he found he couldn’t even say anything.

Reverently, Shane made sure that Ryan was dry, starting at his head and moving down, even kneeling at his feet to dry his legs. Once again, Ryan felt fragile, as if his very core was made of glass. He looked down at Shane, his vision swimming in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, needing to apologize, needing to say something, “I’m sorry I’ve been so impatient and stressed and I took it out on you.”

Knelt at his feet, Shane looked up at him, and Ryan’s knees trembled as Shane opened his mouth and paused, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t try and talk to you sooner.” Shane then pressed his forehead against his hip for a moment, hugging his legs. Ryan shook harder as he ran his fingers through Shane’s hair.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Ryan trying to stay upright, and Shane holding him. A few tears finally escaped his eyes and he swallowed thickly; Shane just squeezed him tighter. Ryan was thankful Shane didn’t try and talk him through this, giving him a few moments of peace that he didn’t even know he desperately needed.

When Ryan finally stopped sniffling, Shane kissed his hip and pulled away. “Sara made some tea.” His thumbs rubbed soothingly as Ryan still trembled.

“Okay.”

“You think you can drink it?”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Let’s try.”

Shane stood up, groaning as his knees popped, but he just smiled and shrugged at Ryan, as if to say, “What can ya do?” He hung the towel up and went to the still open door, pausing as Ryan slipped on pajama pants and a t-shirt. They linked fingers and Ryan followed him to the couch where Sara was nestled in the corner with her own cup, and another one was on the coffee table. Obi had moved from the tree to nestle in Sara’s lap.

Ryan sat down next to Sara, easing himself until he was pressed against her side. Sara cradled her cup in one hand and took Ryan’s in her other. Shane draped a blanket over his lap, and then handed him his tea.

Ryan sipped at the perfect blend of chamomile and vanilla as Shane fiddled with the remotes until a roaring fire appeared on the TV. Ryan grinned; Shane and Sara went absolutely wild for this kind of stuff. When the fire was on, Shane finally settled on the couch, sitting on Ryan’s other side and resting his arm behind him.

Halfway through his tea, as Obi went from Sara’s lap to his and was making biscuits on his stomach, Ryan’s eyes began to close and his head rocked forward.

“Let’s get you to bed, Little Guy,” Shane said softly, collecting his mug. Sara picked up Obi and Ryan stretched and stood up, folding the blanket and leaving it on the couch. Sara took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where it was nice and cool. Obi jumped from Sara’s arm and made his way to his little cat bed in the corner.

“Wanna be in the middle?”

“God, yes,” he said, around another yawn. He crawled onto the bed and Sara pulled the blanket up and over him before getting in on her side and snuggling up to him. The sheets and blanket still held some warmth from the dryer, and Ryan burrowed deeper into the bed, making himself comfortable. He could hear Shane moving around the apartment, turning off lights, the TV, and double checking the door.

Ryan shivered when Sara slipped her hand into his hair and began massaging his scalp. “Ooooh fuuuuuuck,” he swore, his entire body going limp as she giggled. He didn’t even notice Shane coming into the room until he felt warmth at his back and an arm on his waist.

His eyes slid shut and he felt Shane lean over him and kiss Sara, whispering, “Goodnight, babe.” Then he felt Shane’s lips on his own cheek. “Goodnight, Ry-babe.”

Ryan tried to say goodnight, and he must’ve said something because he could hear Sara giggle and he felt Shane’s huff of breath against his cheek, but he was already falling fast asleep, nestled between his two favorite people

[kerishaharris]

Why the cool kids (and brands who hope to be perceived as such) are on TikTok

Being what I like to describe as a “tail-end millennial,” I’ve grown up both with and in the digital age. I still remember turning in school assignments completed on a typewriter as well as playing Oregon Trail in computer class on those box-shaped, neon green Macintosh screens (I’m still heartbroken that my wife died of dysentery, btw). I remember pleading with my mom to hang up the phone so I could log onto AOL, and how much thought I’d put into curating the perfect AIM away message. I joined Facebook my senior year of college when it was still “the Facebook” and for college kids only, and remember how big a deal it was to rearrange my MySpace top eight (funny how we were full-on coding and didn’t even realize it). But now, as a mom of three tweens, I can admit that despite digital and social media being both my personal experience and my chosen career, there are media formats out there that I know nothing about, and that my kids’ knowledge far trumps my own. None of these formats feel more foreign to me, yet obviously influential and equally important to the next generation, than TikTok.

What is TikTok and (dancing humanoid dogs aside) who uses it? TikTok is, by and large, the newer, cooler and way more sophisticated version of Vine (RIP to a real one). On its own website, TikTok says its mission is to “inspire creativity and bring joy.” Produced and manufactured by Beijing-based video-sharing service ByteDance, TikTok reportedly boasts 800 million users worldwide, and as of 2019, has surpassed one billion installs (Yeh, 2019). It creates and curates an experience driven by its powerful algorithm, turning all of its users into a connected network of mini-influencers through the use of trending hashtags, leveraging of popular music, and push for engagement with other users through duets and viral dance challenges, making for a meaningful, organized, and dare I say it, super fun experience for users of the app (Herrman, 2019).

In exploring the app, what I found especially interesting was the way TikTok employs a vertical feed experience prompting the user to swipe up, which sets it apart from similar apps like Instagram Stories or Snapchat. This “endless scroll” approach seems, in my opinion, very conducive to creating an almost addictive experience which can lock you in for hours and hours. TikTok appears to cleverly take advantage of the way users normally engage with our vertical screens, filling up the entire real estate of our phones with engaging video content coupled with popular music that’s perhaps a little too easy to get sucked into.

Who is TikTok really for?

As not only a mom of tweens, but also having worked in communications within the education space in various capacities since 2016, TikTok’s popularity among young people comes as no surprise to me. TikTok is primarily used by youth between the ages of 16 and 24 (Brucker, 2020). It is used by about 69 percent of young people in the U.S., and these users spend at least 80 minutes per day on the app (Perez, 2020). This is the same group that, if you ask them, considers Facebook to be that “cringey” old people app that your grandpa thinks is cool, and Twitter to be that thing where journalists and politicians bicker with other journalists and politicians. It’s unsurprising to me that young people would be attracted to TikTok, a space that can feel exclusively like their own.

For me, it is that young people's exclusivity that keeps me away from TikTok. Despite being what many consider to be a subject-matter expert on social media, I am admittedly intimidated by an app I don’t completely understand or feel welcomed on. I feel more comfortable with the apps I’ve come of age with and whose functionality is more native to my own digital experience, most notably Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I worry I may look like I’m “trying too hard” by exploring TikTok, or worse, that my presence there as a 38-year-old mom will render it an uncool place to be. My own kids reacted with horror when they noticed I had TikTok installed on my work phone, it didn’t matter that my job was to manage my then-employer’s institutional presence on social media. “Mom, please don’t make Wesleyan University a TikTok” they begged (too late guys, already secured the username for posterity). It was clear that they viewed TikTok as their safe space, and that my presence, as well as my employer’s presence despite it being an elite, well-known university, was not welcome.

Are any grownups or brands doing TikTok “right?” Interestingly, several marketers have managed to get past this “eww, adults and brands” factor to effectively market to TikTok’s growing audience through clever advertising and engagement campaigns. Capitalizing on the popularity of hashtag challenges on TikTok, Universal Pictures turned to TikTok as a way to promote their 2018 film, The House with a Clock in Its Walls, through a #FindYourMagic campaign which prompted users to film themselves doing their own magic tricks. Leveraging the power of influence, Universal got a group of popular TikTok influencers to post their own DIY magic videos, which naturally prompted others to do the same. As a result of the campaign, Universal received 1.3 million likes on the influencer videos, generated 19,000 pieces of user-generated content, and gained 11,000 new followers (Brucker, 2020). Whether it prompted people to actually go see the film, I’m not really sure.

(Source: TikTok for Business) In my work as a higher education social media manager, I often came across other universities (typically, with bigger teams and even bigger budgets) doing great work on TikTok. From a marketing perspective, it makes sense why a university would want to invest in building an exceptional presence on TikTok. Each year, so much of your energy and efforts are dedicated to marketing to prospective students and their families, convincing them that your school is the school to attend. Based on user demographics alone, TikTok offers a captive audience for the exact age range higher ed marketers are working so hard to reach. I’m proud to say that my undergraduate alma mater, the University of Florida, was one of the first to leverage TikTok and is considered one of the best in the game. With nearly 97,000 followers and more than 1 million likes, it’s clear they’ve figured out what resonates with their audience. Most of their TikTok videos feature the beloved school colors (anyone who went to UF will tell you we bleed orange and blue), Al the Alligator (we obviously weren’t terribly creative on the mascot name), fave spots on campus and the like. 

(Source: University of Florida on YouTube)

Other major schools like Brigham Young University and Florida International University capitalize on TikTok’s penchant for dance trends and employ their mascots, Cosmo the Cougar and Roary the Panther respectively, to jump in on these trends.

...this same video on BYU’s Cosmo the Cougar TikTok has a staggering 28 million plays, 4.8 million likes, and more than 24,000 comments.

Is TikTok here to stay?

As a perpetual student of digital and social media, I see TikTok as the wave of the future for digital and social communications and marketing. The question for me, however, is whether or not I’m going to ride that wave as a communications professional. While digital marketing is still somewhat new on TikTok, my constant fear is that the moment brands step in and try to inject themselves onto a platform, mimicking and profiting off of the way it is organically used, its core users become disinterested, abandon the platform, and look for the next big thing they can call their own. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll get the next big idea and launch that platform myself.

Funny but true story. As I was putting the finishing touches on this blog post, my 12-year-old daughter came up behind me chanting the following.

Her: Racism? Stop it. Bullying? Stop it. Homophobia? Stop it.

Me: Is that from a TikTok?

Her: Yeah.

Me: Figures.

SOURCES:

Brucker, N. (2020, January 6) Who is on TikTok and how can brands reach them? Forbes. Retrieved from https://www.forbes.com/sites/forbesagencycouncil/2020/01/06/who-is-on-tiktok-and-how-can-brands-reach-them/#1a2fe28343be. 

Herrman, J. (2019, March 10) How TikTok is rewriting the world. New York Times. Retrieved from https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/10/style/what-is-tik-tok.html.

Perez, S. (2020, June 4) Kids now spend nearly as much time watching TikTok as YouTube in the US, UK and Spain. Tech Crunch. Retrieved from https://techcrunch.com/2020/06/04/kids-now-spend-nearly-as-much-time-watching-tiktok-as-youtube-in-u-s-u-k-and-spain/.

Yeh, O. (2019, February 26). TikTok surpasses one billion installs on the App Store and Google Play. Sensor Tower. Retrieved from https://sensortower.com/blog/tiktok-downloads-one-billion.  

[nebris]

How the Ballpoint Pen Killed Cursive

In 2015, Bic launched a campaign to “save handwriting.” Named “Fight for Your Write,” it includes a pledge to “encourage the act of handwriting” in the pledge-taker’s home and community, and emphasizes putting more of the company’s ballpoints into classrooms.

As a teacher, I couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could think there’s a shortage. I find ballpoint pens all over the place: on classroom floors, behind desks. Dozens of castaways collect in cups on every teacher’s desk. They’re so ubiquitous that the word “ballpoint” is rarely used; they’re just “pens.” But despite its popularity, the ballpoint pen is relatively new in the history of handwriting, and its influence on popular handwriting is more complicated than the Bic campaign would imply.

The creation story of the ballpoint pen tends to highlight a few key individuals, most notably the Hungarian journalist László Bíró, who is credited with inventing it. But as with most stories of individual genius, this take obscures a much longer history of iterative engineering and marketing successes. In fact, Bíró wasn’t the first to develop the idea: The ballpoint pen was originally patented in 1888 by an American leather tanner named John Loud, but his idea never went any further. Over the next few decades, dozens of other patents were issued for pens that used a ballpoint tip of some kind, but none of them made it to market.

These early pens failed not in their mechanical design, but in their choice of ink. The ink used in a fountain pen, the ballpoint’s predecessor, is thinner to facilitate better flow through the nib—but put that thinner ink inside a ballpoint pen, and you’ll end up with a leaky mess. Ink is where László Bíró, working with his chemist brother György, made the crucial changes: They experimented with thicker, quick-drying inks, starting with the ink used in newsprint presses. Eventually, they refined both the ink and the ball-tip design to create a pen that didn’t leak badly. (This was an era in which a pen could be a huge hit because it only leaked ink sometimes.)

The Bírós lived in a troubled time, however. The Hungarian author Gyoergy Moldova writes in his book Ballpoint about László’s flight from Europe to Argentina to avoid Nazi persecution. While his business deals in Europe were in disarray, he patented the design in Argentina in 1943 and began production. His big break came later that year, when the British Air Force, in search of a pen that would work at high altitudes, purchased 30,000 of them. Soon, patents were filed and sold to various companies in Europe and North America, and the ballpoint pen began to spread across the world.

Businessmen made significant fortunes by purchasing the rights to manufacture the ballpoint pen in their country, but one is especially noteworthy: Marcel Bich, the man who bought the patent rights in France. Bich didn’t just profit from the ballpoint; he won the race to make it cheap. When it first hit the market in 1946, a ballpoint pen sold for around $10, roughly equivalent to $100 today. Competition brought that price steadily down, but Bich’s design drove it into the ground. When the Bic Cristal hit American markets in 1959, the price was down to 19 cents a pen. Today the Cristal sells for about the same amount, despite inflation.

The ballpoint’s universal success has changed how most people experience ink. Its thicker ink was less likely to leak than that of its predecessors. For most purposes, this was a win—no more ink-stained shirts, no need for those stereotypically geeky pocket protectors. However, thicker ink also changes the physical experience of writing, not necessarily all for the better.

I wouldn’t have noticed the difference if it weren’t for my affection for unusual pens, which brought me to my first good fountain pen. A lifetime writing with the ballpoint and minor variations on the concept (gel pens, rollerballs) left me unprepared for how completely different a fountain pen would feel. Its thin ink immediately leaves a mark on paper with even the slightest, pressure-free touch to the surface. My writing suddenly grew extra lines, appearing between what used to be separate pen strokes. My hand, trained by the ballpoint, expected that lessening the pressure from the pen was enough to stop writing, but I found I had to lift it clear off the paper entirely. Once I started to adjust to this change, however, it felt like a godsend; a less-firm press on the page also meant less strain on my hand.

My fountain pen is a modern one, and probably not a great representation of the typical pens of the 1940s—but it still has some of the troubles that plagued the fountain pens and quills of old. I have to be careful where I rest my hand on the paper, or risk smudging my last still-wet line into an illegible blur. And since the thin ink flows more quickly, I have to refill the pen frequently. The ballpoint solved these problems, giving writers a long-lasting pen and a smudge-free paper for the low cost of some extra hand pressure.

As a teacher whose kids are usually working with numbers and computers, handwriting isn’t as immediate a concern to me as it is to many of my colleagues. But every so often I come across another story about the decline of handwriting. Inevitably, these articles focus on how writing has been supplanted by newer, digital forms of communication—typing, texting, Facebook, Snapchat. They discuss the loss of class time for handwriting practice that is instead devoted to typing lessons. Last year, a New York Times article—one that’s since been highlighted by the Bic’s “Fight for your Write” campaign—brought up an fMRI study suggesting that writing by hand may be better for kids’ learning than using a computer.

I can’t recall the last time I saw students passing actual paper notes in class, but I clearly remember students checking their phones (recently and often). In his history of handwriting, The Missing Ink, the author Philip Hensher recalls the moment he realized that he had no idea what his good friend’s handwriting looked like. “It never struck me as strange before… We could have gone on like this forever, hardly noticing that we had no need of handwriting anymore.”

No need of handwriting? Surely there must be some reason I keep finding pens everywhere.

Of course, the meaning of “handwriting” can vary. Handwriting romantics aren’t usually referring to any crude letterform created from pen and ink. They’re picturing the fluid, joined-up letters of the Palmer method, which dominated first- and second-grade pedagogy for much of the 20th century. (Or perhaps they’re longing for a past they never actually experienced, envisioning the sharply angled Spencerian script of the 1800s.) Despite the proliferation of handwriting eulogies, it seems that no one is really arguing against the fact that everyone still writes—we just tend to use unjoined print rather than a fluid Palmerian style, and we use it less often.

I have mixed feelings about this state of affairs. It pained me when I came across a student who was unable to read script handwriting at all. But my own writing morphed from Palmerian script into mostly print shortly after starting college. Like most gradual changes of habit, I can’t recall exactly why this happened, although I remember the change occurred at a time when I regularly had to copy down reams of notes for mathematics and engineering lectures.

In her book Teach Yourself Better Handwriting, the handwriting expert and type designer Rosemary Sassoon notes that “most of us need a flexible way of writing—fast, almost a scribble for ourselves to read, and progressively slower and more legible for other purposes.” Comparing unjoined print to joined writing, she points out that “separate letters can seldom be as fast as joined ones.” So if joined handwriting is supposed to be faster, why would I switch away from it at a time when I most needed to write quickly? Given the amount of time I spend on computers, it would be easy for an opinionated observer to count my handwriting as another victim of computer technology. But I knew script, I used it throughout high school, and I shifted away from it during the time when I was writing most.

My experience with fountain pens suggests a new answer. Perhaps it’s not digital technology that hindered my handwriting, but the technology that I was holding as I put pen to paper. Fountain pens want to connect letters. Ballpoint pens need to be convinced to write, need to be pushed into the paper rather than merely touch it. The No.2 pencils I used for math notes weren’t much of a break either, requiring pressure similar to that of a ballpoint pen.

Moreover, digital technology didn’t really take off until the fountain pen had already begin its decline, and the ballpoint its rise. The ballpoint became popular at roughly the same time as mainframe computers. Articles about the decline of handwriting date back to at least the 1960s—long after the typewriter, but a full decade before the rise of the home computer.

Sassoon’s analysis of how we’re taught to hold pens makes a much stronger case for the role of the ballpoint in the decline of cursive. She explains that the type of pen grip taught in contemporary grade school is the same grip that’s been used for generations, long before everyone wrote with ballpoints. However, writing with ballpoints and other modern pens requires that they be placed at a greater, more upright angle to the paper—a position that’s generally uncomfortable with a traditional pen hold. Even before computer keyboards turned so many people into carpal-tunnel sufferers, the ballpoint pen was already straining hands and wrists. Here’s Sassoon:

We must find ways of holding modern pens that will enable us to write without pain. …We also need to encourage efficient letters suited to modern pens. Unless we begin to do something sensible about both letters and penholds we will contribute more to the demise of handwriting than the coming of the computer has done.

I wonder how many other mundane skills, shaped to accommodate outmoded objects, persist beyond their utility. It’s not news to anyone that students used to write with fountain pens, but knowing this isn’t the same as the tactile experience of writing with one. Without that experience, it’s easy to continue past practice without stopping to notice that the action no longer fits the tool. Perhaps “saving handwriting” is less a matter of invoking blind nostalgia and more a process of examining the historical use of ordinary technologies as a way to understand contemporary ones. Otherwise we may not realize which habits are worth passing on, and which are vestiges of circumstances long since past.

Josh Giesbrecht is a writer, artist, programmer, and public-school teacher based in British Columbia, Canada.

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/how-the-ballpoint-pen-killed-cursive?utm_source=pocket-newtab

[shmowlwrites]

Yellow Carnations Chapter 3

Ao3 chapter 2 chapter 4

Allegra and Bridgette allowed Marinette to get settled in before the two told her they had a surprise and dragged her out of the dorm and to the courtyard after orientation. 

The girls had disappeared, and suddenly they were in different clothes. Marinette regretted not changing, she was now stuck in her uniform until she was allowed back to the dorm.

Bridgette had her phone out, tapping away. She jogged ahead only to abruptly stop to take a selfie, where she fell back in to step to continue texting.

“Alright! The boys said they’ll meet us down at the cafe!” Bridgette spoke, spooking Marinette.

“The cafe? There’s a cafe here?” Marinette asked. What next? There’d be a mini city over the hill?

“No! Oh, no. Cafe Soleil is our regular spot, so we just call it the cafe,” Allegra laughed.

“They groan when they see us because they can’t handle our collective awesomeness!” Bridgette crowed.

“More like your overall stupidity,” a familiar voice grumbled as they approached the gate.

Marinette whirled around while Bridgette whined. Marinette finally saw him once her gaze returned to the gate. Felix was standing in the shadows of the wall, hands stuffed in his pockets and a blank expression on his face. The ghost of a grin twitched at his lips.

“It’s good to see you again, Marinette. I hope you haven’t suffered in their presence too much.”

Allegra gasped. “Excusez-moi? Marinette has not suffered! We’ve taken good care of her! And it’s not like you could do better. You’d hide in a corner, leaving the poor girl to fend for herself.”

Felix scoffed. “Marinette can take care of herself.”

Bridgette suspiciously looked at Felix and then Marinette. “How?”

Marinette was confused, but apparently, Felix was used to one worded questions. “I was the one to suggest transferring here to her. We stayed in contact over the summer.” Felix nonchalantly replied, turning to lead them out of the grounds.

Bridgette looked at Marinette like she was a god. Marinette didn’t understand. Felix was nice… in his own way. Why did she look like Marinette had done some miracle?

“Felix deletes everyone’s contacts. The only way we can actually talk with him is through apps because then he can’t delete us,” Allegra stage-whispered.

“I don’t do texting,” Felix sighed as if he’s had this conversation before. Marinette nodded. They had only talked over calls, and the rare moments of Felix using Snapchat.

Bridgette still looked at Marinette in a new light.

They arrived at Cafe Soleil without much of a hitch, the atmosphere filled with idle chatter as the senior friends brought the newbie to a party booth. A barista came by, glanced over them before her mocha eyes fell on Marinette. She strode over and tutted.

“Kidnapping another new kid?” She sighed.

“It’s not kidnapping if she came willingly,” Bridgette pointed out with a wink.

“Does she even know anyone else?” The barista asked.

“Yeah! She knows Felix!” Bridgette grinned.

“Felix is apart of your tiny cult,” the barista giggled.

“Felix is not apart of any cult,” Felix mumbled, earning a quiet snort from Marinette.

“So, what’s your name?” the barista asked.

“My name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I recently transferred to Alma Lycee,” Marinette grinned. “And you?”

“I’m Sofia Crovetto. I was in my last year of lycee when these menaces appeared in college.” Sofia earned a glare from the two girls. Unfazed, she continued, “I decided I didn’t know where I wanted to go yet, so I decided to stay close by because you know someone gotta watch these kids while their parents are away. Cafe Soleil was hiring, so here I am!” She briefly folded her hands and held them under her chin.

“Well, it looks cute!” Marinette grinned, doing a once over the cafe. “I’m sure you must be happy here.”

“Yep!” Sofia giggled. She probably would’ve stayed longer if a co-worker hadn’t called for her to come back.

“Sofia is lots of fun, an adult who isn’t really an adult figure to us,” Allegra explained. “She loves to sit with us and remember the good ole days. If we’re on break and she’s off, we’ll all go to the zoo.”

“She loves to poke at Allan and Claude,” Felix grunted from beside her.

“I’d say she’d poke at you too,” Marinette teased.

“Oh yes!” Bridgette grinned. “She gave us our nicknames! Felix is Sparrow, Allegra is Melodie, Claude is Kid Mime, and Allan is Mercury! She would’ve called me Ladybug, but then Ladybug showed up so, I got Coccinelle instead.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out how those nicknames came to be. Bridgette’s excited and sparkling eyes led to Allegra and Felix collectively groan as she launched into an account of how each of them earned their names. Marinette happily took each story in. By the time Bridgette finished her nickname, two boys were coming up to the booth. One had olive skin and blue eyes, with almost black brown hair. He wore jeans and a blue and white V-neck t-shirt with a black shirt underneath. He was the more excited one, as he literally bodyslammed Allegra to slip into the booth. The other was of African descent, with skin the color of a western coneflower and bottle green eyes. He wore a green hat with a white and green hoodie and brown jeans. Hidden in the rise of his hoodie were headphones similar to Nino’s, orange black but no special designs. He politely sat beside Marinette.

“Ah! You must newbie!” The excitable one all but shouted. “I’m Claude Martin!”

Marinette kindly grinned. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“There’s no need to be kind,” Felix looked up from his phone to rest a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “He can take the truth just fine.”

Allegra snorted as Bridgette “Oh’d!” and Allan chuckled to himself.

“I’m Allan Cellario, I’m sure I’m more of a pleasure to meet than loud-mouth,” Allan held out his hand and Marinette happily shook it.

“So tell me,” Marinette slyly looked at Claude, “how you manage to be so loud and have earned the name Kid Mime?”

Claude looked dumbfounded before holding a finger out. “Now listen, young lady, because I’m loud doesn’t mean I can’t act.” He draped himself across Allegra, a defeated expression on his face. “Listen to this, Melodie! Little kit here can’t see that I am one! One with the arts!”

Allegra pushed him off with a “Pssh, sure, whatever, bro.”

“Little kit?” Felix asked, annunciating each syllable.

“Yeah! The sparrow brought in something, why not a pretty kitty?” Claude smiled.

Marinette flushed at being called a pretty kitty and kitty in general and was promptly left unable to speak.

“Damn it, Claude, you broke her,” Allan sighed. “This has got to be a record. Not even been around a girl for more than a minute and you broke her.”

Marinette shook her head. “N-No, it’s fine!” She nervously smiled.

“Good, because I’d hate for you to be ruined by Claude,” Bridgette grinned.

Marinette left the cafe feeling rejuvenated. These five friends were a refreshing change from Adrien, Nino, and Alya. They bantered together as if they were family, yet they still managed to keep Marinette in the loop instead of going on without her. They shared inside jokes with her. They teased Felix in ways that made him smile in his own way that Marinette had never seen in her short time of being in contact with him.

She looked forward to her first day of classes.

[secretlovewinner-blog]

2 Unique Way To Recover Snapchat Account

In this 21st century, Snapchat is Booming like never before. Now Snapchat, which is used by more than 158 million people every day, has pioneered new ways to interact with photos, videos, and other users, as well as new formats for advertisers, to reach customers. The company, which rebuffed a $3 billion acquisition offer from Facebook in 2013, is on track to generate $1 billion in revenue next year, according to the investment bank Jefferies. Snap, the company that runs the social media service Snapchat Account Recovery. Snapchat, soared in its initial public offering, setting the company up as the most valuable American technology company to go public since Facebook. Snapchat lets users send messages to one another that disappears within seconds. You have to know your friend’s user name to send a message, which makes Snapchat a place where people tend to connect with those they actually know.

Snapchat Account Recovery

The first step to solving a problem is to know its root causes. This may be that we forgot our passwords or we were hacked and logged out. Knowing how you lost your Snapchat account should help you understand how to recover it.How To Recover Your Snapchat Account Of You Forgot Your Password? Snapchat Account Recovery If you have forgotten your Snapchat passwords and want to log in, follow the steps below to recover your account by resetting the Passwords. Launch the Snapchat app on your smartphone and tap on Login. Enter your username or email and tap the “forgot your password” option right under the PASSWORD box.A box will pop up asking you to ” Please choose how you want to reset your password.” Here we choose email. On the next page, enter your email address and tap the “Submit” button (scroll to step 4 if you wish to use a phone number).You will receive an email from Snapchat. The email contains a link to reset the password. Tap on the link and enter your new secure password (check how to make easy and secure passwords here lazily).If you wish to recover the account via phone, choose the phone option in step two above and enter your mobile number. Tap the “Continue” button and in the pop-up, choose how you want your phone number to be verified; either via message (Send Via SMS) or call option.Choose the SMS option to receive OTP as it is easier to work with. Enter the OTP that you received in the place provided and proceed to reset your password. (If you enable Do Not Disturb on your SIM the message may not come through so you may have to use the call option).How to Recover Your Snapchat Account if You Have Forgotten Your Username and Email?To be sincere, many of us have more than 4 email accounts and also play around with usernames when opening accounts. Other times, we forget our usernames and email because we abandoned the account for a while and we are trying to get back in the game. If you are trying to recover your account SnapChat Account Recovery in this scenario, try the options below; Try to make a list of all your valid email addresses.Launch the app on your smartphone and tap on Login. Enter your email or password and tap the ‘Forgot your password” option right under the PASSWORD box.A box will pop up asking you to ” Please choose how you want to reset your password.” Here we choose email. On the next page, enter your email addresses and tap the “Submit” button. All invalid emails will result in an error reading “Email address is invalid.”. Keep entering the different email addresses until you get the right one then proceed to reset the password.How To Recover A Stolen Snapchat Account?Suppose your account was hacked the recovering the account will be difficult. The difficulty depends on the changes the hacker has made to the hacker. If you can still access the account (if your email has not been changed), then changing the password will be the easiest option.However, if your recovery email address has been changed and your phone number too then there is only one thing that can be done on your end. Contact Snapchat Help, fill up an account recovery form and hope they recover the account for you.How To Secure Your Snapchat Account?While the big corporations will always try their best to secure their platforms, Snapchat users should also know the steps are not complete until they also play a part in securing their accounts one can open a Snapchat account using a fake email and number combination, which is cool but can be disastrous if you should forget your password or get hacked.To update your email address and phone number, go to Settings and check.Use Two Factor AuthenticationAlso, in Snapchat settings, it will be wise to use Two Factor Authentication. This helps to decrease the chances of being hacked. This will prompt the app to request for a one time code any time you log in. I use the Authy Authenticator app for Two Factor authentication. How To Reactivate Snapchat Account on Android or iPhone. Let’s learn how to reactivate Snapchat account as they are not just as simple as they seem. As in reality, there is no such button option available in the app. Follow the instructions below to get to the act of getting your Snapchat account SnapChat Account Recovery back on track. The steps are to be performed on your smartphone.Launch the Snapchat app on your phone.Fill in your Username and password to login to How To Reactivate Snapchat Account on Android or iPhone’s learn how to reactivate Snapchat account as they are not just as simple as they seem. As in reality, there is no such button option available in the app. Follow the instructions below to get to the act of getting your Snapchat account back on track. The steps are to be performed on your smartphone.Launch the Snapchat app on your phone.Fill in your Username and password to login to your account.Tap Log In.The message says – If you want to reactivate your account. Tap on OK.A mail will be sent to you informing you that your Snapchat account is being reactivated.You will see your Snapchat account working again.Remember, it might take a few hours to recover all your data on your Snapchat account. This includes updating your Memories- which is a complete collection of photos. As the server gets the information about the reactivated Snapchat account, it will give access to all of the user’s data.Tap Log In.The message says – If you want to reactivate your account. Tap on OK.A mail will be sent to you informing you that your Snapchat account is being reactivated.You will see your Snapchat account working again.Remember, it might take a few hours to recover all your data on your Snapchat account. This includes updating your Memories- which is a complete collection of photos. As the server gets the information about the reactivated Snapchat account, it will give access to all of the user’s data.

About

Snapchat is a mobile app for Android and iOS devices. It’s headed by co-founder Evan Spiegel. One of the core concepts of the app is that any picture or video or message you send – by default – is made available to the receiver for only a short time before it becomes inaccessible. This temporary, or ephemeral, nature of the app was originally designed to encourage a more natural flow of interaction. One last thing: Snapchat’s Snapchat Account Recovery developer is a public company, called Snap. It claims to be a camera company. As such, it creates other products, including hardware, like Snapchat Spectacles, which you can read all about from here. Also, Snapchat is colloquially referred to as Snap.

Conclusion

When you see the gear icon on your Profile screen, tap it to access your Snapchat account settings, where you can link your Bitmoji account, manage on-demand geofilters, create or scan a Snapcode, Snapchat Account Recovery. add two factors, adjust your Memories, Spectacles, and Shazam preferences, change your password and phone number, and so much more. Hint : Remember to use reliable and secure passwords and refrain from sharing your passwords. Security is best when done personally.

[manpreetr]

The Digital World and You

As we all have noticed that the digital world has been increasingly becoming more and more important in almost everyone’s lives. The digital world is a platform for many to make a source of income.

First, it was YouTube, where people would post videos of lifestyle, makeup, fitness, cooking, gaming, and more. That would attract people to watch their videos and then the content makers will gain a following. With a greater following, that meant they would be more popular and as you gained more popularity, platforms like YouTube will pay you to continue making these videos so that the public can continue to watch them. By doing this, this would give you the opportunity to share and get your skills out in the internet world.

Nowadays, it is so much easier to gain a following and to become more “popular” or “known” on social media because the internet is connected through multiple social media platforms. Now, there are multiple ways to advertise your brand to get yourself out there in the digital world such as Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat. Platforms like Instagram and Snapchat have become extremely popular over the years. I personally remember when Instagram and Snapchat was first launched and a lot of people had switched over to these platforms from Facebook because it was easier and sufficient to use. Also, these platforms gave the opportunity of posting short videos or just images and writing an interesting caption to get one’s attention.

Having a social media account or becoming “popular” on social media does take in work and it frankly takes up a lot of your time as well. Nowadays, you see everyone on their phones and constantly making posts and videos to post on these platforms so that their following can see what they are doing at that moment or what they did the past few days. Showing what is happening in your life and sharing where you were for lunch or dinner has now become a trend. This is how some people make an income and for that, they do need to dedicate their time to this more frequently.

With these kinds of people/influencers, they grab everyone’s attention and that results in people sharing their opinions or becoming more aware of topics, it can be political or everyday lifestyle choices. The digital world is becoming more and more popular and more informative in multiple ways. With everyone sharing their opinions and ideas and adventures, it gives people the opportunity to have a voice and to express their opinions without any fear of being judged because they are behind a screen and they can openly say whatever they want, of course keeping it civil and polite.

In the end, the digital world with these social media platforms has become a community and place for people to make an income, launch a business or to even just to do it for fun and entertainment.

[heesgf]

drunk neighbor! gon pt. 1

this scenario is inspired by a very cute prompt an anon gave me :’)) hopefully there will be a second part soon!! if you haven’t read my other gon stuff, pls do💖 ily!!! 

warnings: underage drinking, and heart throb lee byounggon... (watch out)

prompt: “drunk neighbor!gon climbing into your bedroom window in the middle of the night, thinking that it was his and almost falls over when he sees you with a lamp in your hands ready to beat him up.” 

      Mistake number one was leaving your window open.

      While most people were out at your friend Hyunsuk’s house party, you were trapped in the confines of your dimly lit room. And rather than getting high off the fumes of blueberry vape pens, and occasionally, marijuana, like everybody else seemed to be, the pungent smell of colourful sharpies was starting to make your vision double. Maybe taking AP Environmental Science wasn’t such a good idea... because now you were sitting criss crossed on the floor, sloppily cutting out paragraphs about recycling, and pasting them onto a neon green poster board. If you were being honest, blueberry vape pens were starting to look good right now...

      Some times, you’d take a small break and watch the various Snapchat stories your friends would post. Moments earlier, Hyunsuk had sent you a video of himself taking a shot of God knows what with the caption ‘wish u were here!!!!’; that was shortly followed up by a second video, this time as he strolled out of the bathroom, with the caption ‘im not feeling so good...🤢🤢’.

      Other times, you’d distract yourself by looking out the window at your neighbour’s house.

      Lee Byounggon had been your neighbour for as long as you could remember. In your childhood, there were times when you and Byounggon played scavenger hunts in your backyards, hide and seek in the dark, and walked to school every morning. Eventually, the time you two spent together drifted away from late night sleepovers where you’d talk late into the night, hoping Byounggon’s parents couldn’t hear you, and turned into something that felt tight and suffocating. Somewhere along the way, the way he grabbed your hand and dragged you to school made the pits of your stomach erupt in something unfamiliar.

You realized that something had changed.  

      The way he’d run his hands through his hair at his soccer games, the way he’d stare you down when you were playing cards, the way he’d pat your head when his eyes met your in the hallway—somewhere along the way, he didn’t feel like your next door neighbour. Somewhere between the glances you stole across the hall, and the soft poke of his finger against your cheek when he thought you looked cute, somewhere in the depth of your thoughts, and imagination, you got lost in him.

And somehow, walking to school with Byounggon felt like something so much more.

      More and more often, you found yourself spacing out in class, dizzily staring at the window at the thought of Byounggon’s lips on yours. When Byounggon got his first girlfriend in Junior High, you’d gotten your first taste of reality.

      As Byounggon got older, he got more and more distant too. He no longer slept over at your house, you no longer slept over at his, and honestly, he’d begun to miss your sacred movie nights more times than he would make them. Eventually, you made it your duty to wake up a few minutes earlier than he did, just so you didn’t have to trail grumpily behind Byounggon and his girlfriend. Those were the times when your chest would quake.  They would walk hand in hand, laugh at something stupid, sometimes kiss—and at one point, the way your stomach clenched when he brushed the hair from her face was too much to bear.

Byounggon never realized that, though.

      Each and every time you trotted slowly behind, kicking at the air, sighing under your breath, Byounggon would turn around, in that dazzling way he did, and he’d shoot you a sideways smile. You hated how seamlessly he made your heart flutter. He didn’t even need to try. At one point, you chose to avoid Byounggon not because you wanted to, but because it hurt not to. Of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t close, the history you two shared was far too deep to simply disappear overnight. But it did mean you never quite let go of that feeling. When you swapped gifts at Christmas, or hugged him on his birthday, there was still an air of discomfort that haunted you, of ungrasped potential, of sheer curiosity. Maybe you didn’t see him as often, but that didn’t mean you didn’t see him when you closed your eyes at night. Now, you’re staring intently at his window across from your own. His room is pitch black, but the curtains are wide open, and you wonder what he’s up to; whatever it is, the thought makes your mind wander.

That feeling of tingling mystery is abruptly interrupted by the creaking of your bedroom window.

      In front of you, there are two hands carefully pushing your window upward, and the shadowy silhouette of someone you can’t recognize.

      You launch off your seat on the floor in a matter of seconds, and leap toward the lamp on your nightstand, holding it against your shoulder like a baseball bat. By the time the clouded figure makes its way into your room, you are swinging the lamp into the air. Before the weapon makes contact with the person’s head, and you home run them out of your bedroom window, the perpetrator falls flat on his ass, and the slipping of his hoodie reveals his identity.

“Byounggon?!” You gasp, and now he’s rubbing the top of his head, and groaning onto the floor.

      When Byounggon looks up at you from the ground, his eyes are narrowed, but he looks more perplexed than angry. His hair is pressed down against his forehead, wet from the rain that falls rampantly outside, and his lips are smoothed over in an uneven line. He’s looking at you, but at the same time, it feels like he isn’t focusing on anything. Regardless, you’re a little more distracted by the low cut of his shirt, and the smooth sheen of his skin.

“Jesus, [Y/N],” He grumbles. “Why’re you in my room? And why’re you trying to kill me?” He’s pushing himself off the floor, but stumbling in the process. You catch him by his arm before he falls back on his ass, and he leans into your embrace.

“This is my room, you fucking moron,” you mutter under your breath, but Byounggon’s eyes are less shocked than you thought they’d be, and he doesn’t seem to grasp the situation, because he’s still lurching toward your bed, and grabbing for your blankets.

“What?” He breathes out, shaking his head. It’s only when he starts blinking wildly in every direction when you realize what’s going on.

“For God’s sake, Gon, are you drunk?”

“No,” he’s shaking his head rapidly. “I-I’m not drunk. I’m never drunk.  Do I look drunk?” Now he’s gesturing obscurely toward his face. His eyes are barely open, and you’re not even sure how you can understand his speech through the level of slurring he’s achieved. You’re still taking in his disheveled appearance when memories of Hyunsuk’s Snapchat stories resurface in your mind, and you remember the clear image of Byounggon taking shots off Hyunsuk’s pool table, and then stumbling toward the couch for support. You sigh and roll your eyes.

“I can’t believe this is happening right now,” you whisper in panic, looking toward your bedroom door to make sure neither of your parents can hear Byounggon’s nonsensical whining.

“Stop shouting,” He rasps, reaching a hand out to cup his ears. “I can’t see myself think.”

“What does that even mean?” You retort sourly, and Byounggon is still tottering against the side of your bed, arm latched onto the small of your back. Byounggon’s face is now perched at the top of your shoulder, and you feel your body start to sway at the weight of his body; or maybe it’s the weakening of your knees at the warmth he’s providing you. You sigh into the top of his head and bite your lip.

“Just. Just get into bed, okay? You can barely stand.”

“No,” He groans into your chest. “I can go home, I can, I just—I just need to find the door.” With the single movement of his arm, Byounggon knocks down half the items off your nightstand; part of you wants to flick him across the forehead, and the other wants to swaddle him in a cocoon of blankets, shove him into your covers, and lull him to sleep.

“Gon,” You try and make your voice as soft as possible. “You’re a mess right now. You need to sleep. Okay?”

      For a moment, Byounggon’s eyes wander, but then they droop, and he nods softly against your body. His lips are pressed against the exposed skin of your collarbone, and when he speaks, his lips drag against your sensitive skin.

“Okay.”

      You slowly tug Byounggon’s arms, securely latched around your waist, away from your body, and you push him gently towards your bed. The moment his head falls onto your soft pillows, Byounggon is already humming in comfort, and you wrap your blankets tightly against his body. You’re ready to take one of the blankets you have laid out on the side of your bed, along with one of your decorative pillows, so you can lay out a spot, and sleep on the floor, but you stop in place when Byounggon’s fingers curve around your wrist.

“Wait,” He croaks, shifting one of his eyes open to lazily meet your own. “I-I can’t sleep alone.”

     You hope he doesn’t notice the way your arms run themselves over with goosebumps, and you have to swallow past the hitch that’s made its way into your throat. When you look at Byounggon, like this in front of you, sleepy and dizzy and vulnerable, he looks less like that guy that’s become hauntingly distant, and more like that smiling boy from all of your childhood memories.

Maybe he’s not as different as he makes himself out to be.

“Don’t leave,” He murmurs again, and this time, you let yourself fall into his embrace, into the heavy comforter, the muddled sheets, and you lie frigidly against the corner of your bed.

“I won’t.” You whisper. You’re facing away from Byounggon because if you’re looking into his eyes, you’re not sure if you can control yourself. When he feels your body lying next to him, Byounggon turns onto his side, wraps his arm securely around your waist, and pulls you from the side of your bed, up against his chest. Now, his face is pressed into the back of your head, slightly peaking into your neck, and you feel his breath like it’s your very own.

“Hey [Y/N],” He mumbles, and you feel yourself nodding, but you’re not sure if the words will escape your mouth when it’s caught in your throat like this.

“Y-yeah?”

“This is like that dream I had.”

      You feel your body stiffen against Byounggon’s before your mind can register the depth of his words. And before you can even begin to question what he meant by that, you’re cut off by the sounds of his deep breathing, and the circulation of his soft snoring. Slowly but surely, your eyelids feel heavy, and the rapid pace of your chest soothes when Byounggon’s head leans onto your back; you fall asleep with a sense of confusion, and yet, everything about this moment feels right.

***

      The next morning, you half expect Byounggon to wake up at the break of dawn and slip away into the daylight, leaving nothing but a note behind him, like in one of those cliche movies.

This, however, is not a movie, and Byounggon was drunk off his mind.

      When your eyes squint open at the sunlight peeking into your window, the clock is blaring 11:48 a.m. Byounggon’s arms are are still around you, limply, but the contact is enough to bring a rush of heat to your face the second your consciousness allows for it. You take it upon yourself to remove his hands from your waist, grab him a glass of water, and a Tylenol. By the time you’re back in your room, he’s still asleep, and your eyes peer to his denim jacket that lays over the top of your desk chair.

      You know that you shouldn’t, and yet, something about that jacket is so compelling. You pick it up in your hands, run your fingers over the tough fabric, and muse the heavy garment over your body. In the full length mirror, his jacket looks long and over-sized, and when you pull it up to your nose, it’s that smell, his smell, that makes your body break out in chills. With a small look over your shoulder, toward Byounggon, still sleeping soundly on your bed, you wrap the jacket over your shoulders and pull the front together, slyly posing in the mirror. There’s a part of you that feels like the cliched cheerleader in every stereotypical high school movie, rocking their jock boyfriend’s Letterman jacket at a football game; you want to cringe, and at the same time, swoon.

“It looks good on you.”

For someone that should have a splitting headache, Lee Byounggon’s smile is far too wide.

      He’s half perched up from your bed, his eyes fixed on the way his jacket hems at your mid-thigh, and biting his lip at the look of pure astonishment on your face.

“I-I was cold.” You immediately defend, fiercely slipping the jacket off your shoulders, and throwing it halfheartedly back onto the chair.

      Byounggon quirks an eyebrow. Before you know it, he’s standing up, his clothes from last night now wrinkled and messy, but he looks just as good as always. Byounggon approaches you with a look in his eyes that’s mildly alarming, and it’s hard to imagine this cocky boy was a floppy mess just hours before.

“Really?” He muses, reaching out to place his palm across your forehead. “You feel kinda warm, though?”

“Gon, stop!” You whine, and Byounggon throws his head back into an aggravating laugh.

“You’re always so wound up.” He presses. Then he’s biting his bottom lip again. He runs a hand through his messy hair and looks down at floor. “Thanks,” He wavers, “for uh, taking care of me last night.”

You nod your head. There’s something about the silence that fills the room that makes the both of you avert eye contact. When Byounggon nods his head in your direction, you’re relieved you don’t have to break the silence.

“So... did I say anything uh, weird, last night?” Byounggon hand slips behind his neck, and he looks the closest to bashful you’ve ever seen.

‘Hey [Y/N]?’

‘Y-yeah?’

‘This is like that dream I had.’

“Uhhhh,” You ignore the twisting of your stomach, and then shake your head steadily. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

       Byounggon nods. Then he looks down. Then he smiles, and looks back up at you. There’s a glint in his eyes that’s troubling; it makes your legs tense.

“Did I kiss you?”

       The look on Byounggon’s face makes you freeze in place. He looks so confident.

“W-what? No. No!” Your response is adamant, but Byounggon’s eyes are focused so tightly on yours, you wonder what he’s looking for. His face is calm, but his voice is so firm, you’re not sure if he wants you to gasp, or laugh, or nod your head.

“Good.”

      At Byounggon’s response, you feel your face fall. Here stood the boy that you’d spent half your childhood playing with, and the other half, avoiding because of your feelings for him. Was he openly admitting he didn’t have feelings for you, too? It was one thing to shut yourself down in your head, but to have him shut you down to your face? It was painful.

      You think you must look stupid, because your brain can’t manage what to say next, and you’re awkwardly standing, staring back into his eyes. Byounggon nods again.

“Good,” He repeats. “I want to be sober when that happens.”

      Then he laughs. He laughs at the widening of your eyes, the reddening of your cheeks, the pursing of your lips. Byounggon reaches forward and ruffles the hair on your head, but you almost don’t even notice, you’re too focused on the fact that he said ‘when that happens’ not ‘if’. Byounggon bites his lip one last time and moves slowly toward your bedroom door. When he clutches the door knob, he shoots one last glance in your direction, and waves a lazy hand at you.

“See you later, [Y/N],” He smiles as he walks out.

“B-but your jacket,” You say lamely, pointing frantically toward the denim frock he’d left on the chair.

      Byounggon scrunches his nose and then shrugs. “Keep it.” And then he walks out the door, and shuts it gently behind him. You’re still standing in shock as Byounggon rushes skillfully out of your house, tip-toeing out the front door, like he used to when you were kids.

       You pick up Byounggon’s jacket and run your fingers over the smooth material, contemplating the events of the past 12 hours, and questioning if that had even happened.

Mistake number two was letting him walk out the door.

thank u for reading and pls stay tuned for part two!!! it will be way more fun hehehehe :’))