#i am fully aware checking my email is my responsibility and this is pretty much my fault but

[caernua]

reminder to check your email during the holiday season otherwise you might wake up 6 days before your 6 month program in another country to discover that you were in fact kicked out due to not responding to emails during the holiday season

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Four: E-Stim

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane deals with the consequences of her email to her boss, both good and bad. A mortifying situation has an…unexpected outcome. Emotions run high in the fourth chapter of The Tx of Sy! Behind on the action? Catch up HERE! 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language, some angst and emotions. (Like I literally cried writing part of it) And like, an asshole boss…but if you stick it out with Susan, you won’t be disappointed.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

 @cavillryarchive

 @summersong69

 @titty-teetee

 @bloodyinspiredfuck

 @agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

(you didn’t ask, but i took the liberty! Hope that’s okay!)

@tumblnewby @suavechops

Shane had spent her morning getting ready for work and treating her first patient with a whopping headache…maybe a small glass of wine would have been more responsible of her. But she slept like the dead, which was the goal.

She took a moment before her second patient to check her email…there was a reply from Susan.

Shane, come to my office at your next possible availability.

No "thank you" or "please" or "fuck you very much." just an order. Last she checked, SHE wasn't in the military. Since Heather wasn't in yet, she messaged the secretary on duty, Marsha, to see if she could find a way to make an opening in her morning. She wanted to get this meeting over with.

Sure, Shane. Looks like Cory could take your next patient, if you like. He's seen him before.

Perfect. Please make that change and block me for a meeting with Susan. Thank you so much.

She saw Cory walk by, and warned him. "Cory, I'm having Marsha move Mr. Greenbaum to you next hour. I need to meet with Susan about something." she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shit. Okay. No problem." Cory knew all too well the fuckery that a Susan meeting could entail.

"I really appreciate it. I owe you big time."

"Nah, Mr. G is cool. We just talk about huntin' and stuff."

"He'll probably like that we switched, then." she laughed. And headed for what felt like the principal's office. Bleak and miserable.

She knocked on the door, and was told in an all too cheerful manner to come in.

"Hey!"

"Morning Susan."

"Close the door and have a seat, Shane."

She typed away for a moment before fully engaging…as was her way. She thought it gave her the power. It really just annoyed the fuck out of everyone.

"So, tell me what's going on with this patient you emailed me about."

"Well, he's an ACL and MCL tear, traumatic, plus a dislocated patella. He did it during a mission in Iraq. Ummm, he's improving a lot. Potter did the surgery. He had him keep the crutches about two weeks longer than we thought he would, but--"

"No I mean…this relationship. What's the deal, here?"

"Oh, there's not much to say about it, really. He's been fairly flirty from pretty early on. I've been able to ignore it, but to be honest, I think he's a really great guy, and I think he deserves better than me ignoring his advances, especially when, to be honest Susan, the feelings he has for me are not unrequited." her heart was racing. More than if Sy had been in the room flirting with her, but so much less pleasant.

"I don't think you should see this guy until the treatment is over. What if it doesn't work out and he doesn't want to come here anymore because of you." That hurt…not that it wasn't rattling around in her head, too.

"Well, Susan, to be honest, that's one reason I haven't spoken up about this already. I have that fear. But he's been very adamant about it lately, and it's been on my mind a lot, and I think I owe it to the both of us to see it through."

"I think I should call this guy. Let me pull him up."

She gave her his details to get his information pulled up in their system. God, this was embarrassing. She should have known this nightmare was coming.

"Hello?" a gravelly bark came across the speakerphone.

"Hello, Mr. Syverson?"

"Captain Syverson, yes, Ma'am." She wasn't expecting him to pull rank…and he did it so politely.

"Sorry, Captain Syverson. My name is Susan DeForrest, I'm the manager here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. How are you this morning?"

"This side of the daisies ain't worth complainin. What can I do ya for, ma'am?"

"Well, I have Miss Benton, your therapist here in a meeting. You're on speaker."

"Hey Sy." Shane mewled sheepishly.

"Hey there, Shane." she could hear the smile in his voice. She didn't know if Susan could.

"She's saying that the two of you would like to see each other socially, outside of therapy."

"Oh, that's not quite the words I'd use, ma'am, but I s'pose you're technically correct."

"And she's explained to you that this facility has a policy in place regarding such fraternization?" What a load of bullshit she was shoveling. Making it sound so sinister and clandestine what she and Sy were trying to start up. Like espionage. This woman…

"I'm aware that certain policies exist like that to protect patients or customers, and more frequently the staff from situations that could present problems for both or either parties. I am not aware that a strict policy exists to police your staff in such a stringent manner. In fact, I know the opposite to be true."

"Excuse me?" Susan asked, shell shocked.

"See, them policies o' yours, they're all available online. Public knowledge. Even your personnel ones. Now, y'all have a nice and thorough handbook, I mean, I have been up all night just pouring over this like honey on toast, and I can tell you, I ain't findin' a word about y'all not being allowed to date your patients."

"Well, it's in policy number…"

"Nope, you were gonna say 47, subsection 2, part b. But that just says that you shouldn't treat anyone you're close to (i.e. friend, relative, or significant other) if you can't maintain objectivity or your own comfortability. Now, if I'd make Shane uncomfortable, or if she lost her objectivity over me, I'd be devastated. Shane, do I or do you think I could make you uncomfortable or unobjective?" he was laying it on so thick. If she hadn't been falling for him, this would have done it.

"I don't think so, Sy." She held back a smile…but not well.

"There ya have it. Miss DeForrest, I trust that Shane is free to live her life in the way she sees fit?"

"Well, I still think she should wait…" Susan started, but was cut off again by Sy.

"Because you see, I've seen a lot of young people fail to grow old. A lot of people waitin' to do things…they never ended up doin'. This life…it can be real, real short, Miss DeForrest. And I'm not keen on waitin' to be happy when I could be happy right now. Have I made myself clear enough for you? Or do I need to go to the next link in the chain of command here?" The emotion and resolve in his voice was completely shattering. He wasn't crying. But Shane and Susan both were. And then suddenly, Susan sniffed herself into composure and answered him with dignity.

"No, Captain Syverson. That will not be necessary. Shane…is free, of course, to socialize with whomever she sees fit so long as it doesn't affect anyone's treatment adversely. Thank you for your time, candor, and perspective, sir."

"I'm glad to help Shane. She's helped me more than any therapist I've ever had. We clicked immediately. I knew she was somethin' special. But getting to know her over the last few weeks has shown me what true happiness could feel like…I'd forgotten that over in Iraq. She gave that back to me. I'd like to thank her properly."

"I think she'd like that too. Thank you, sir." Susan hung up the phone without letting them say goodbye to each other, but Shane was an utter mess, and unable to form coherent words right now, anyway.

"Wow." Susan exclaimed.

"Yeah." Shane sniffed into a tissue, dabbing her eyes and then blowing her nose loudly, and unapologetically.

"Did he say he spent the whole night reading our policies?" Susan asked, not sure she heard him right.

"That's what I understood." Shane was somehow not surprised.

"Did you tell him to do that?"

"I didn't even know the policies were online, nor did I know you'd pull him in to our meeting…I didn't even know we were having one until twenty minutes ago."

"Right…fair. Sorry, I'm still…off-put by all of that." She had been beaten…and it wasn't familiar or comfortable.

"So, are we finished here?" Shane inquired, tentative about the state of mind her boss was in.

"Yes, go on and take the rest of the hour for continuing ed or whatever." She was normally much more composed…Sy had really gotten to her. She loved it.

Shane hurried back to her treatment room. She had to call him.

"Hello?" that same gravelly voice now confused as he'd just hung up with her, basically.

"May I speak to the great hero Captain Syverson, please?"

"Sunshine. How ya doin'?"

"Did you really stay up all night last night to read our entire employee manual?"

"I wanted the straight up, true life details about this policy that could mess up my future."

"I think you broke my boss's brain. She was still stewing when I left. She thought I told you where to find all that and what not. I didn't even know you could find it online. Plus, I didn't know we'd be meeting or that she'd drag you into a personnel matter. She's the worst. And you're literally my hero for beating her down like you did."

"Hey, ya know, she started it. I just finished it."

"You sure did. And how!"

"So…since we're all legal now…"

"Is the magic gone since it's not forbidden?" she laughed.

"Oh, I was gonna say, yeah, I think this may be a mistake. Sorry."

They both giggled.

"I'm free after work on Friday." she suggested.

"Not anymore, you're not. Bring some nice clothes and change when you're done. I'll pick you up after. Just text me when you're about ready?"

"You haven't given me your number, Sy."

"It's in my chart, dork."

"You have to officially give it to me."

"Oh I'll give it to ya, baby." He'd dug deep into the bass part of his register for that one.

"Syyyyy." she groaned.

"Oh, you already know I like it when you say my name."

"I'm being serious right now, what's your damn number or the date is off." She bluffed.

"Not because I believe that idle threat, but because I wanna…give it to ya." he rattled off the number.

"Okay, I'll be texting you with mine. Now, I have work today, so if you text me and don't get an immediate response, you know that's why."

"I'm not your only patient? I'm hurt, Shane."

"I know, that's why you've been coming to therapy for weeks."

"Har-Har, good thing I'm not into you for your sense of humor."

"Good thing I'm not into you for your looks, since 80% of your face is obscured by hair."

"We could go all day like this."

"The stamina." she teased.

"Well, look who joined the game!" he sounded almost proud.

"Don't think I haven't been participating silently for…a while."

"How long?" he inquired

"Isn't that my line?" she laughed at the penis joke she'd just made.

"You'll find out soon enough, and you won't be laughing. How long?"

"Well, you remember your evaluation."

"I do."

"Yeah…then." she bleated, too shy to say so with pride.

"No way! You mean you've liked me all this time too! And haven't said shit!?"

"I had to be professional, Sy! I didn't want to! Damn! You've gotta know how much I didn't want to be professional."

"I'll forgive ya, I guess, lil' lady."

"Merciful of you, sir!" she chuckled. "I'll need to go here soon. Won't be long now until my next one gets here."

"Tease me with a 'sir' then cut me off. Cruel."

"You like 'sir,' huh?" she whispered.

"I do. Yes…I…do."

"Noted. Well, until tomorrow."

"Don't forget to text me. I want you to give it to me too." he chuckled.

"Oh, you're bad."

"But, I'm real, real good sunshine." The deep rich promise in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"Bye Sy."

"Later Shane."

She hung up and texted him immediately. A selfie. He replied in kind. He seemed to be home on his couch, Aika by his side…he was not wearing a shirt…well…this day would be eternal.

Up Next: Chapter Five- Sensory Integration 1

[vampyrly]

: / i need any help and/or validation for a situation im dealing with

ok heads up this is going to be potentially very long to read and get through, like possibly 10 minutes at most but it is detailed and information heavy, i dont want to leave anything out

if anyone knows me/knows me on twitter and has seen my tweets where i've detailed the bullshit my roommate has done in the past you'll know i dont particularly like their presence based on their immature and gross antics. well ladies and gentlemen just when i thought they couldn't possibly sink any lower as a person, they pulled through the shit olympics and won gold.

my roommate has a cat, they had it prior to moving in and on their account the cat has been by their side 24/7. it is very attached and has most definitely developed a form of separation anxiety because of this. there hasnt been an issue with how often they stay with their cat up until recently... their girlfriend got her own apartment and over the past few months my rm has been staying with her 24/7. as in, is practically never in the apartment. they only come back to refill their cats food/water and is immediately out the door again. occasionally they will sleep overnight but after that they are back out the door.

as anyone who understands cats or animals in general would realize, this is essentially neglecting a cat, one you have gone from being with every day, to essentially never seeing. and this was not gradual, it was a damn near sudden change. you can probably imagine this is putting a lot of confusion and stress on the cat. over time, the cat has reacted more physically. they have become prone to crying by the door, biting the gf's toes, glaring at her (i guess), and such.

now, about a week ago, the cat had bitten my roommate incredibly hard to the point of drawing a lot of blood. apparently this was so traumatic to the rm that they now refuse to even be in the same room with the cat (there have only been a handful of times where they've slipped into the room to grab an essential and shimmy back out) so much so that they brought an air mattress, set it up in the living room, and is now temporarily sleeping there. no, im not joking.

now im not going to go into detail about why this buildup from the cat occurred, i think it should be pretty obvious already why, but to my rm, they fully believe this behavior is aggressive and unusual. as in, this cat had malicious, negative intent to do harm on its owner. its owner which, up until months ago, they were so attached to and clearly loved. as a friend has pointed out, this isnt signaling aggression. this is signaling a need to get attention in any way possible. their own cat had scratched them up so bad to the point they almost had to go to the ER, but it wasnt because the cat was aggressive, it just thought it was playtime! the case is different here yes, because unlike my rm the friend actually takes care and gives attention to their cat, so this was a very rare occurrence. simply put, this cat is lacking so much stimulation, attention, and basic interaction that this, to me, felt like a last resort. because clearly, the constant cries of sadness wasnt doing anything for them. they're currently in the process of rehoming the cat and will permanently ditch it on the 28th. thats still another 5 fucking days of this cat being in these neglected conditions, and thats not counting when this started, which was 17th, 18th if were being generous on account of me misremembering the date of events because who can blame me so much has already happened its becoming difficult to keep track.

a cat that they up until this point loved and gave attention to as apparent by them claiming she is for emotional support, is being thrown out of their life without remorse over one instance of """aggression""" (dont make me explain why it wasnt again.)

my roommate knows full and well that they have every ability and every second on their hands to bring the cat with them to the gf's apartment but guess what? they simply choose not to do so! i guess those toes getting bitten was so traumatic because oh yeah may i add, the girlfriend is a massive enabler of the roommate and sees absolutely no issue to the actions they are taking in response. i doubt they even tried to properly warm the cat up to a person who is a newcomer to the relationship. im sure they both think in their heads that this is the most responsible thing they can do as pet owners and that they're such good people for rehoming a cat they cant take care of anymore. yes, nothing more responsible than neglecting an animal that needs social interaction as much as that one in particular is in dire need of. responsible pet owners would have never let it escalate to such a point, i'll have you know.

my roommate has done a lot of bullshit that has made me want to pull my hair out, but at the very least, it didnt involve a living creature. this however draws a line as i refuse to stand for animal neglect simply because im an outsider and have no direct say in the situation. i've taken as much action as i possibly can, phoning and texting and emailing as many people as i possibly can. i hesitate to say this is straight up animal abuse because as firm as i can be i try to give people the benefit of the doubt BUT. i will say that every single person i have relayed all of this info to thus far has told me that this is grounds for animal abuse.

yesterday i ran into my rm and they told me "heyyy sorry about her crying constantly, its just not possible for me to be in there whatsoever!" and when i asked if they have someone refilling the bowls and litter on their behalf they said "nope just me" ????????? simultaneously on the same day i said fuck it, i am going to break out the secret key i have to their room to check on the cat. yes i have a key to their room, i have never used it until now and if you want to ignore everything thus far to give me some shit about trust or whatever consider: i dont fucking care. as it turns out the food and water bowls are the type that automatically refill. so, hmmm. theres that part out of the way, but of course, you cannot put in a machine to automatically interact with a cat on the level of a human. as for the litter, i couldnt see since i didnt step more than a foot into the room as to not impede boundaries on the cat and i didnt want my roommate to suddenly come home to me knees deep in their shithole. it was probably in the closet but then how is that being cleaned? those automatic cleaning cat litter boxes dont come cheap and i know damn well they cannot afford one. and may i just add as a tidbit, the room has a sitting scent of pee. though seeing as how gross my roommate can get im betting its just them and not the cat. also that room was cold as fuck. were at 60-70s right now in terms of weather right now it does not need to be that cold......

here is a video i was able to capture. i mounted my phone on a monopod in order to get a scope of the room without stepping in too far.

i decided that the least i can do at the moment is to head out to dollar tree and get a toy or two so i can at least provide some amount of stimulation. before i left, i checked on her again.

she was just laying there, keeping her distance, and didnt lurch at me whatsoever. i came back with a feather wand and played with her for a couple of minutes. she responded a little to it, but for the most part she was peering out the door wondering where the hell her so called responsible owner was. i took my sweater off and let the cat sniff it. i have zero relationship with this cat, infact its the first time i've ever properly seen it as it is locked in the bedroom 24/7.

now you may be asking yourself, why is this cat locked away in a room 24/7 like rapunzel locked in her tower and not roaming freely in the open apartment? i too would like an answer to this! i rarely spend any time in the living room but even if i did i have NO issue with it chilling in there.

someone i phoned did bring up a good point that for AS to consider a legitimate case of abuse or even do anything, there'd need to be no food or water. so essentially, unless you're straight up physically harming an animal outside of their headquarters they dont fucking care. want to be proven further on that? my rm actually did speak with AS at the start of bite-saga. surprisingly they werent 100% truthful, and, get a load of this, they told them that the cat potentially has a virus, and that they need to be quarantined the entire 2 week period. thats some lying bullshit if i've ever heard some!!! not only that, just a few hours ago i peeped the girlfriend had the vet get back to them about lending a muzzle!

SO. heres the current situation as of today and what will occur to tomorrow: i finally phoned someone who is going to drop by the apartment tomorrow, potentially with another person (these are not random people, im simply keeping their status as anonymous as possible to maintain their privacy) to check on the cats conditions. they'll also call AS again and nudge the rm in a way where it seems AS needs them to expedite the surrendering process sooner than later. i cant imagine another 5 days of this going on, but theres only so much that can be done that doesnt involve me straight up catknapping the poor thing and rehoming her myself. this is the condition of the cat as of a few hours ago:

if i were someone uninvolved and saw this, i would have assumed she were a stray that broke into the room........

i try not to be petty and villainous, but a line has been crossed and the disgusting mistreatment of an innocent creature is a crime i refuse to allow be sweeped under the rug. if theres any benefit to living in a relatively small town, its that everyone knows or at least recognizes everyone. far too many people already get away with animal abuse, at the very least i can make as many people here as aware of their antics as i can. is that wrong to do? should i not air all that i can out about them? im so tired and exhausted. i've lost so much sleep over this and im probably going to lose a lot more. thanks for reading.

[gingrrfrog]

these nights (8)

word count: 5.7k

warnings: questionable medical information (lol), jihyun and her massive brothers

summary: jeno’s injuries aren’t conclusive and jihyun is impatient 

Johnny is never the one to stray from a schedule, especially if it is one he has made for himself to stay sane. Hospital stay or not, he opened his eyes promptly at seven am, yawning and blinking at the bleary cloud before trying to soothe the crick in his neck from sleeping on the small hospital couch. He glanced over to Jeno, whose chest rose and fell steadily, sending a smile to Johnny’s face before he sat up.

“At least one of us slept well, huh Jen?”

Jeno gave a deep breath in response. Johnny dug into his bag for his toothbrush, walking over to the sink to hastily brush his teeth while looking over at his emails. Thankfully, it seemed that the world managed to stay afloat while he was asleep. He noticed there was an absence of missed calls, which always made him relieved. That is until he looked at his text messages, noticing his teenaged son’s messages from three in the morning.

From: Hyunwoo

We’re out of milk again.

Oh. Forgot you’re not coming home. Again.

Johnny rolled his eyes. He knew that his son had no concern for the lack of milk in the fridge, not to mention he didn’t even think they had a shortage of milk. Hyunwoo these days seemed to thrive off making his father irate, the pettier the reason the better. Johnny sighed and spit in the sink, rinsing his mouth out with water while thinking of an equally snarky response. He decided not to do so, reminding himself that he was the parent in the situation, regardless of how annoyed he was. Instead, he opted to call his son, knowing full well that he should be getting ready for school at this hour. Hyunwoo answered with a grunt, causing Johnny to bite his tongue.

“Hyunwoo.”

“I said, what?”

Johnny took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “did you manage without the milk? I’m sorry, I must’ve forgot.”

“The nanny made something else.”

“Okay,” Johnny cleared his throat. “Please help her get the rest of the kids ready—“

“I know what I have to do.”

“I was just making sure.”

Hyunwoo hung up the phone abruptly, causing the older man to stare at his phone in disbelief before he scoffed. “This fucking kid—“

Johnny was in the process of redialing his son before a knock came from the door. He narrowed his eyes, telepathically telling his son that he had just barely escaped his fury before he told the person to come in, revealing a nurse with an apologetic smile.

“I’m glad you’re awake. I’d feel bad if I woke you up with my knock.” She smiled sheepishly, “I’m just here to check on Jeno’s vitals and I’ll be on my way.”

Johnny nodded, smiling in return as he watched the nurse look at the monitors and check Jeno’s bandages.

“How is he?”

“I think he’s healing up faster than we thought,” she smiled. “I overheard the doctor say that the swelling in his brain decreased a lot since he’s been admitted. She thinks it suspicious though. His brain injury doesn’t seem consistent with other head injuries in car accidents.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, “what do you mean?”

The nurse realized she over-spoke then, bowing her head, “sorry. I’m just saying what the doctor told us.”

“No, it’s fine,” Johnny reassured. “I won’t say anything.”

“I’m sure you can ask the doctor more in depth later on,” she explained. “I’ve seen a lot too, but she’d probably explain it better.”

“When will she be around?”

The nurse looked at her watch, “her shift starts at seven thirty. It shouldn’t be too long now.”  

Johnny nodded, thanking her quietly before the nurse bowed and left. Johnny chewed on his fingernails, sitting down on the infamous armchair as he watched Jeno breathe. He contemplated whether or not he should call Jaehyun, surely he was awake by now, but he didn’t want to stress him anymore than he should, especially if his best source is a chatty nurse.

Instead, he opted for staring at his phone, wondering if he should call back Hyunwoo despite the conversation gone stale. If Johnny called him back it would just be petty. He’d let it go, for now, at least. He waited patiently for the doctor arrive, playing a random game his younger son put on his phone before there was another knock, revealing the doctor who bowed at her entrance.

“Good morning. Are you Jaemin?”

Johnny shook his head, “no. He won’t be here until later. I’m his brother in law, Youngho.”

“Of course. It’s good to meet you, Mr. Youngho.” The doctor quickly introduced herself before she continued to look over Jeno. “Do you have any questions for me? Or in general?

“I mean, my main one is how long until Jeno is able to wake up again.”

“Ah, that,” the doctor smiled, putting down her iPad before sitting down on a plastic chair. “It’s interesting that Jeno is recuperating faster than we thought. We were initially concerned about head trauma when he first came in and we saw the CT Scan. We did see a lot of brain swelling initially, but when we see brain swelling in the brain, just a moment--“

The doctor stood up, logging on to the nearby computer quickly before clicking on a few different windows. “I’m sorry, it would just be easier to explain with some imagery.”

She turned the monitor to show Johnny Jeno’s x-ray, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to understand.

“The last thing I want to do is overwhelm you, Mr. Youngho. I guess, a question I should ask is are you aware of Jeno’s condition before the car accident?”

Johnny shook his head, “no. Not really.”

The doctor nodded, pressing her lips in a tight line, “simply put, with car accident brain trauma, we would usually find injury or trauma here, in the frontal lobe. This usually happens because, when a driver makes impact, it’s with the steering wheel or even the windshield at times. Sometimes, we see a bit of injury in the parietal lobe, in circumstances in which the driver has been ejected or the car has been turned over.”

“However, in Jeno’s case,” Johnny watched the doctor grimace, tilting her head back and forth in a way that indicated she was thinking carefully of her next words, “we see that Jeno has most, if not all, of his injury in the very back of the brain, closer to the occipital lobe here and the very beginnings of the cerebellum, here.”

“The reason I ask of Jeno’s condition before the car accident is to ask if it anything happened prior towards the car accident.”

The doctor grimaced, “these injuries are more consisted with inflicted injuries. It would be my logical assumption that Jeno got in the car afterwards to get away. The lower parts of the brain have to do with sense of direction and vision, and the injuries obtained on the rest of his body lead me to believe that these were done before.”

Johnny’s eyes switched from the doctor to Jeno, still not being able to fully grasp the information. “Which injuries, would you say, were inflicted from the car accident?”

“Without further examination, I could say that his bruised lung is most consistent a car accident. Jeno’s seatbelt holding him back from the crash could cause the lungs to hit against the ribs, causing a moderately bruised lung.”

“The broken femur? The arm?”

The doctor pressed her lips together before she shook her head, “Jeno’s impact with the car was on the left. Both his left leg and arm are fine, there was no impact with from the right side.”

Johnny fell back against the chair, his head swimming in confusion as the doctor gauged his reaction. He scratched at his hair, rubbing his face before standing up, “thank you.”

“Any more questions from me?”  

“You actually never answered my question, really,” Johnny said gently. “How much longer until Jeno wakes up?”

“We’re going to do a few more scans of his brain swelling before we determine that this afternoon. If we see that the swelling has reduced to a safer level, we might consider relieving Jeno of sleeping medication and allowing him to wake up naturally. That alone, should be by the end of the week depending on him and how long he wants to take. But, if the swelling is still a bit of ways to decrease, we might take him off sleeping medication at the end up the week, and he’ll wake up sometime early next week.”

Johnny nodded, “okay. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Of course. If you have any questions, feel free to contact the nurse.”

“Thank you.”

There was no way he wasn’t going to keep this information from Jaehyun. He sighed heavily, patting Jeno’s good arm before calling Jaehyun. “Hey, it’s me.”

Jaehyun

Jaehyun heard his phone vibrate next to him, groaning at what he assumed to be his alarm before he noticed Johnny’s name on the screen, yawning before he answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“What’s up, hyung?” He greeted quietly, gently shuffling out of bed so not to wake up Jihyun as he walked to the bathroom.

“I just finished talking to Jeno’s doctor.”

“Yeah? Is everything okay?”

“He’s fine, he’s recovering pretty quick. Jeno’s never been the one to like being asleep anyway.”

Jaehyun smiled, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, but, there’s something that the doctor said that…is kind of worrying.”

“What’s that?”

“The doctor said that the bruised lung is the only injury from the car accident.”

Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows together, “how? What do you mean?”

“Jeno’s arm and leg are broken the opposite way he was hit and flipped. Not to mention, Jeno’s brain injury is at the back of the head, not the front, not at the top.”

“Meaning?”

Johnny sighed, “meaning—the doctor thinks Jeno was hit before the car accident. The blows to his head probably caused the it, assuming that what the doctor said was true.”

Jaehyun tossed his head back, groaning quietly to himself with his eyes closed, “okay.”

“Okay?”

“We’ll talk more about it later when you come over,” Jaehyun scratched the back of his head. “There’s nothing much we can do until Jeno wakes up and he gives us his story. Did she tell you when he would wake up?”

“If the swelling goes down enough, we’re looking at sometime at the end of the week.”

Jaehyun nodded, “that’s fine. I just want to make sure Jeno heals. Is there anything else she told you?”

“No, Boss.”

“Good, at least he’s waking up soon. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

Jaehyun pressed his lips in a tight line, hanging the phone up before padding barefoot back to bed, placing his phone back on the nightstand before snuggling back into his bed sheets. Jihyun scooted towards him, her head resting on his chest as she rubbed his side.

“Everything okay?”

Jaehyun answered her question with a kiss to the crown of her head, “everything is okay.”

“Who called?”

“Johnny hyung.”

Jihyun only replied with another hum, going back to sleep before Jaehyun followed suit. They didn’t wake up until Jihyun’s alarm went off, Jaehyun waking up confused at the idea that he must’ve turned off his alarm in his sleep until he saw Jihyun awake on the end of the bed, watching the news and watching Jaehyun wake up with a smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he mumbled, pushing the blanket off of his body before sitting up. “Did you turn off my alarm?”

“I did, I wanted to make sure you got some sleep.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, making grabbing hands as Jihyun silently followed to his hold.

“What did Johnny oppa call for?”

“Just a Jeno update.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s doing better than we thought. He might wake up this weekend.”

“That’s good news!”

Jaehyun hummed, rubbing her shoulders as they continued to watch the news. Jihyun seemed to be fidgety this morning, shifting in Jaehyun’s arms before he finally looked down at her in confusion.

“You okay?”

Jihyun nodded with a smile, “yep!”

“You sure?”

“I was just wondering…” she started, “were you serious about getting married today or was that just pillow talk?”

Jaehyun laughed, “do you want to?”

“Duh,” she grinned, resting her head on her arm. “Do you want me to call?”

Jaehyun took a moment to study her face, snorting before he pulled at her nose, “you already did, didn’t you?”

Jihyun pouted, “what if you tried to back out?”

“Back out from what Jihyun? Marrying you?”

“Cold feet is a real thing,” she trailed off, scrunching her nose at Jaehyun laughs before he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“I’m not going to back out from marrying you, Jihyun. You’re insane.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now when are we supposed to be there?”

Jihyun looked down at her hands, “in an hour?”

“An hour?!”

The couple barely made it to their nine o’clock appointment, Jaehyun picking the nicest shirt he had and semi-matching pants before he pushed Jihyun out the door. The housekeeper was just beginning to enter as they left, telling her that they would be back later on in the afternoon before they got in the car and sped off towards the registrar’s office.

They signed and received their marriage license first, listening to explanations that their license would be void if they didn’t have the ceremony in thirty days. Jihyun explained that they were having their ceremony today, to which they were redirected towards a smaller room, barely decorated with a few flowers as they stood in front of the marriage official.

Although grey, somewhat bleak and definitely bureaucratic, there was a hidden element of romanticism as Jaehyun’s heart soared of the idea of him finally marrying the girl he had been in love with the vast majority of his life.

Kim Jihyun, the girl who used to call him snot nosed pig when they were kids. The same Kim Jihyun who always came over when he was sick, despite her father’s orders to stay home. He looked to her neck to see the same diamond tear drop necklace he had bought her all those years ago for White Day, the same day he confessed and the same day they shared their first kiss, unromantically in front of Jisung.

Jaehyun smiled to himself, noticing that Jihyun was smiling at him. The last twelve years, they had never lost an ounce of love for each other. Not even for the year they had broken up for reasons that Jaehyun couldn’t even remember anymore. He loved all of her, he loved the pimple she tried to cover up this morning. He loved the freckle on the inner corner of her eye, he loved her eyes and how they look at Jaehyun, the same look she gave him whenever she told him she loved him, or that she was proud of him. Pure, unadulterated, love.

I love you, he mouthed, watching Jihyun’s mouth turn for a bright smile as she mouthed back.

I love you more.

“Does Jung Jaehyun take Kim Jihyun as his wife?”

“I do.”

“Does Kim Jihyun take Jung Jaehyun as her husband?”

“I do.”

“Then by the power invested in me, by the city of Seoul, I formally pronounce husband and wife.”

They shared a loving kiss after they exchanged their rings. Jaehyun noticed he quite liked the weight on his ring finger. With no witnesses except the officials, the two left the courtroom hand in hand, swinging their hands together as they made it back into the car. They sat there for a moment, words failing to describe the emotion they felt before Jihyun sat on her knees, pulling Jaehyun in for a deeper kiss, one that he eagerly returned as he looped his fingers in her hair.

They pulled away breathlessly, smiling at each other before sharing short pecks.

“I love you,” she said before she kissed him again. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved you this much in my life.”

Jaehyun snorted, “that’s reassuring.”

Jihyun smiled, throwing her leg over the control deck before scooting on Jaehyun’s lap. Jaehyun looked around the parking lot, feeling somewhat relieved that it was empty so early in the morning.

“We’re married.”

“We’re married,” Jaehyun smiled, reconnecting their lips before Jihyun pulled away.

“You’re stuck with me. Forever, Yoonoh.”

“I know, that’s the point.” Jaehyun grinned, “it’s against the law to divorce me.”

“It’s against the law to divorce me!” Jihyun huffed, kissing his neck before pulling away with a pout, “please don’t divorce me.”

Jaehyun laughed, holding her close and squeezing her tightly, “I’m not planning on it. I didn’t divorce you in our past life and I’m not divorcing you in this one.”

“Again, with the past life,” Jihyun rolled her eyes. “How do you know we got married in a past life? Hm?”

“Because instead of my heart racing, my heart was calm.”

Jihyun narrowed her eyes, “maybe that was your brain telling you to leave me.”

Jaehyun groaned, grabbing her face and squishing her cheeks together, “I’m trying to be romantic!”

Jihyun smiled, kissing his wrists before eagerly bouncing, “let’s go do married couple things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s go grocery shopping!”

“Grocery—? Baby, we grocery shop every week, what difference does it make now?”

“The difference, my husband, is that we can go buy our groceries and I can show off my ring to the cashier that always flirts with you. And then, I’ll ask baby, can I have your card? and you’ll hand me the heaviest card in your wallet and—“

Jaehyun shook his head, “how about we don’t do that?”

Jihyun frowned, “why not?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Jihyun.”

Jihyun blinked, “where’s the fun in that?”

“How about we go to your parent’s house?” Jaehyun started, “your dad is waiting for you anyway, and we can tell them that we got married so we can get a free lunch?”

“Are you mooching off my parents?”

“Which answer will make you say yes?”

Jihyun laughed, kissing Jaehyun’s nose before she climbed back in the passenger seat. “Fine, let’s go see my parents and get a free lunch.”

“That’s my girl,” Jaehyun smiled, turning the car on as he began the drive towards Jihyun’s home.

Jihyun’s childhood home was a warm English Tudor styled home where she spent a relatively normal life and childhood save for her father’s profession. Her mother was a writer for a lifestyle magazine, writing about cooking meals for her beautiful, wealthy family while her husband ran off to kill who knows what for whatever reason. Regardless, Jihyun lived a lavish and spoiled lifestyle being the only daughter after four brothers, four brothers that tormented Jaehyun endlessly every time he came over.

Even now, as Jaehyun pulled into the driveway, he remembered Jihyun’s third oldest brother shoving his head into a pile of mud, leading Jihyun to scream, cry, and knock her brother unconscious with the nearest baseball bat. Needless to say, it was a fun story to tell on holidays—more so now that her brother thinks it’s funny to play buddy-buddy with Jaehyun now that’s somewhat successful.

Jaehyun shuddered at the thought, immediately remembering that most, if not all, of her brothers were home.

“What?”

“Huh?” Jaehyun asked, being pulled out of his reverie after he parked the car. He was still sitting in his seat, making no effort to get out of the car.

“You kind of shook there for a second,” Jihyun smiled. “You nervous?”

“No,” he scoffed, opening the door. “Why?”

Jihyun waited until Jaehyun opened the door for her, taking his hand as she grinned up at him. “Only because we got married and we’re about to tell my dad and my brothers.”

“I’m almost thirty, what is your brother going to do? Stick me in mud again?”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Are you ever going to let go of the cashier flirting with me?”

Jihyun narrowed her eyes, pulling him closer as they walked inside the door. Upon entering, Jaehyun could already hear the booming laughs that came from the sitting room.  Jaehyun made sure to hide his grimace when Jihyun’s mother (now, Mother-in-Law, he supposed) walked in the room. Jihyun hugged her mother and watched as the other woman cooed at her stomach before putting her attention to Jaehyun, hugging him tightly and patting his back.

“Your brothers are in the living room, Jihyun, let’s go say hi.” She smiled, pulling the couple towards the sitting room. Jaehyun sighed, giving a soft smile before putting his hand on the small of Jihyun’s back.

“All of them?”

“They all came! Isn’t that great?”

Of course, all four brothers were sat on the couch, looking up at Jihyun and Jaehyun with a smile. Jiho, Jihyun’s oldest brother, was the first to stand up and embrace the two, not before mocking Jihyun and how she really looked like an old lady. Jihyun would respond to her brother’s jest with an elbow to the stomach, mentioning that he was no spring chicken considering he had four of his own, two of which would be entering college sometime this year.

Jihoon, the second, stood up next. Out of all the brothers, Jaehyun seemed to rely and talk to Jihoon the most. Despite being the second oldest, he was, perhaps, the most mature and the quietest of his brothers. Jaehyun remembered that he was always studying whenever he saw him, but when he wasn’t, he would humor Jihyun and Jaehyun with whatever imaginary game they wanted to play. Jihoon was also the first to get his license, often being the one to sneak Jihyun to Jaehyun’s house whenever she was in trouble. If Jihyun were to have a second father, it would be Jihoon. He greeted Jaehyun with a genuine side arm hug, patting his back and asking him if everything was going well. He had heard about Jeno since he worked at the same hospital where he was at, but Jaehyun only dismissed it, reassuring him that he was fine.

Next was Jihwan, Jaehyun’s least favorite brother. Just as he expected, Jihwan poked fun at Jihyun’s stomach, worse than her older brother before Jihyun lifted her arm, threatening a punch before he flinched. He even patted Jaehyun’s stomach, mocking him and telling the rest of his family that there was no way Jaehyun could fit a baby with his tiny stomach and rock-hard abs. His words, not Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun was embarrassed at Jihyun’s brother fondling him, especially in front her father, so he gently pushed him to the side to greet the last and youngest brother.

Fresh out of his military service and probably closest to his age, Jihu. Jaehyun doesn’t remember much about Jihu, probably because he was always in and out of punishments. They talked once or twice a year, but they rarely had anything in common except that they went to the same high school, that’s it. Even now, the greeting was awkward, Jaehyun gave him a smile that her brother returned. They shook hands cordially, before Jihu noticed the ring on his hand, smiling widely.

“Congrats,” he said quietly.

Jaehyun returned the smile, “thanks.”

Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms wrap against his waist, flinching at Jihyun’s mother squeezing him tightly, “I’m so glad, you came, Jaehyun. My favorite son, Jaehyunie.”

He laughed awkwardly as Jiho rolled his eyes, pulling his mother off of the embarrassed man before pushing her towards the dining room, “Mom, didn’t you say you made lunch? Why don’t you show me?”

“Show you for what reason? You’re too old for me to show you anything anymore— “

Jinho stood up from his spot on the couch after the brothers left the living room to follow their mother towards the kitchen at the promise of food. He kissed Jihyun’s forehead and asked her how she was feeling, concerned that she left so early last night to bed when Jihyun would usually sit and talk to him for hours.

“I really was on my feet for hours, Daddy,” she pouted, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “All I wanted to do was go to bed.”

“Not to make more grandchildren, I hope.”

Jaehyun choked.

“Don’t be mean to Jaehyun, Daddy, he was tired too. He went straight to bed after I put on his anti-aging face mask.”

Jiho rested a heavy hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, “good boy.”

Jaehyun gave a sheepish smile, thanking every God responsible for Jihoon pulling him out of his father’s grasp. “Jaehyun, Mom wants you to get the second plate after Jihyun.”

“Thank you, hyung,” he whispered.

Jihoon smiled, patting his back and leading him towards the kitchen. He helped wherever he could, but it didn’t help that Jihyun’s mother was pushing him out of the way, reassuring him that he could sit down with everyone else at the table. Truth was, he wasn’t ready to sit down yet, especially if he realized his seat next to Jihyun was also the seat next to Jihwan. He could gag, in all honesty.

Unfortunately, he sat down next to his brother-in-law, smiling awkwardly everytime he opened his mouth.

They chatted and ate for what seemed like hours, Jihyun having ate the most what with her husband, her father, her mother, and Jihoon placing bites of food onto her plate. She didn’t end up eating most of it, scooting her leftovers back to Jaehyun’s plate, in which Jihwan would sneak bites as Jaehyun pretended not to notice.

“Anyway,” Jihyun started, “we kind of have some news.”

“What’s next? You’re already pregnant and engaged.” Jiho mocked, earning a roll of the eyes from Jihyun.

“Applause! Jaehyun and Jihyun adopted a dog!” Jihwan snickered, clapping by himself.

“Did you buy another house?” Her mother prompted.

“No—“

“Twins?”

“No! This isn’t a guessing game!”

“Spit it out, Jihyun,” Jihoo said with a mouth full of food.

Jaehyun felt his hand taken out from under the table, revealing their rings as Jihyun beamed in happiness. “We got married!”

Fury erupted from the table, everyone except Jihu had something to say.

“Jihyun, we were supposed to plan the wedding how could you go and—“

“—what took so long, Jaehyun—?”

“You went dressed like that?”

“Mommy, we’re still going to have a wedding we just got married first—!”

“I’d say congrats, Jaehyun but it’s my sister and I still feel kind of iffy about you—“

Jinho cleared his throat, silence rippling through the table as he wiped his mouth of food. The rest of the table was waiting for his reaction, the reaction of his youngest child, his only daughter, going off to get married in front of two marriage officials that were less than enthusiastic about marrying another couple. Jinho made eye contact with Jaehyun, holding his gaze as Jaehyun quickly recited every Hail Mary he remembered from Catholic school as well as contacting a few more deities should Jinho decided to stab him with the salad fork.

“Daddy, Jaehyun and I have been wanting to get married for years but every year something came up,” Jihyun explained. “The last time we wanted to get married Uncle Jungmo died, and then after that Jieun unnie died, and then after that—“

Jinho took her hand, squeezing reassuringly, “did you have fun?”

Jihyun smiled, nodding her head as she held her father’s hand to her cheek, “it was beautiful, Daddy. Jaehyun loves me and he takes care of me.”

“This is so fucking disgusting,” Jiho said under his breath, earning a slap to his shoulder from his mother.

“Daddy, I’m the best because I’m pretty and I’m a girl,” Jihwan mocked in a high pitch voice, rolling his eyes before picking at his food.  

“Daddy, Jihwan oppa is only mad because all of his girlfriend’s cheat on him,” Jihyun said with a kiss to his palm. “Jaehyun and I have been together longer than Jihwan oppa’s mortgage account. Please don’t be mad.”

“Dad, she’s already pregnant, what’s the harm in having a court wedding.” Jihoon snorted, “she’s also not seventeen anymore. She’s twenty eight and she’s in charge of her own life. Her deciding to marry Jaehyun out of the blue on a Wednesday morning would not be the worst thing she’s done.”

Jinho huffed, “why is everyone assuming I’m angry? Jihoon is right, Jihyun isn’t a little girl anymore and she’s been with Jaehyun long enough to decide what kind of wedding she wants. Not to mention, Dear, she mentioned she’s still having a wedding. She legally wants to be recognized as Jaehyun’s spouse and I think it’s smart. They should’ve done it a long time ago.”

“I have no qualms with your marriage, Jihyunie. I just would’ve wanted to be there to see it,” Jinho said sadly, a small smile still on his lips.

“Next time! During the big party!” Jihyun beamed, squeezing her father’s hand before putting it down.

“I’m dizzy,” Jihyun’s mother moaned. “Tea? Anyone, tea?”

“I would like some—“

“Then come get some, Jihwan I’m not your servant.”

Among the bustle of plates being picked up and everyone picking up their plates, Jaehyun was pulled aside by Jihyun’s father, walking to the empty sitting room. It seemed that Jinho took the marriage fairly well, so that at least was off his shoulders, but not even God himself could guess what was going to come out of his father-in-law’s voice next.

“I hope that didn’t scare you off.”

Jaehyun smiled, shaking his head, “it takes a little more than that these days, sir.”

Jinho shared his laugh, “I’m sure it does.”

“Are you happy, son?”

Jaehyun nodded, not a shake to his voice, not a tremble in his fingers, “I am.”

Jinho snorted, “if someone would’ve told me that Jungmo’s tiny kid would marry my Jihyun, I’d kill them for disrespecting me and my friend.”

Jaehyun grimaced, “sir--“

“I’m glad it’s you, Yoonoh,” he said quickly. “You take care of my Jihyun, and I’m sure you will when I’m gone.”

“In many, many years.”

“Exactly,” Jinho smiled, but Jaehyun couldn’t help but to detect sadness in his voice. “Take care of my Jihyun, Yoonoh. She was the love of my life way before she was ever yours.”

Jaehyun bowed, “I will, sir. Thank you for accepting me, I can’t imagine it’s easy.”

“I’ve done many jobs for your father, Jaehyun. But this is the hardest one I’ve ever done for him. It can’t be helped,” he sighed. “Soon Hyerim will come, and you’ll understand.”

Jinho smiled to himself, “one day, you’ll be an old man like me, sitting in your chair in front of some shaky kid who wants to marry your Hyerim, only for him to grow some balls the day he finally does.”

Jaehyun laughed, scratching the back of his head, “can’t wait.”

They’re quiet for a while, listening to the conversations and yells that are coming from the dining room where Jaehyun could hear Jihyun argue about which tea she should drink with her brothers. Jaehyun smiled, but his smile was put on a pause when his phone rang in his pocket.

“Excuse me,” he said suddenly, leaving once Jinho dismissed him with a wave. Jaehyun walked towards the hallway, taking the phone in his hands and answering quickly. “Johnny hyung?”

“WRONG! It’s me Uncle Jaehyun, it’s Taewoo!”

“Hi, Taewoo,” Jaehyun smiled. “Where’s your dad?”

“He’s right here—hey!”

“I am so sorry,” Johnny said suddenly, sounding breathless on the other line.

“Visits?”

“All four of them,” Johnny huffed. “I know I’m supposed to come over to your house, but my nanny quit. Literally just now.”

“You can bring them over, hyung, it’s fine. I have the gaming room upstairs,”

“Dad can you ask Uncle Jaehyun about the gaming room?” Either Taewoo or Taesoo asked.

“Uncle Jaehyun isn’t going to let you play if you keep jumping around like that, Taesoo—“

“I’m Taewoo that’s Taesoo.”

“Nice try, kiddo, but I know my kids,” Johnny snipped. “Dinner? Maybe?”

Jaehyun laughed, “of course.”

“You’re the best, I’ve got to go—Taesoo, are you fucking crazy let go of your sister’s hair!”

Johnny hung up just as Goeun was about to scream, leaving Jaehyun alone in the hallway. He feels arms wrap around from behind, smiling at the gentle hold as he pulled Jihyun closer to him, turning around as she snuggled into his chest.

“Who was that?”

“Johnny hyung,” he said. “We might actually have to go to the supermarket, you got lucky.”

“Why is that?”

“Hyung’s nanny quit, and they haven’t had dinner. Are you okay to cook, or do you want take out?”

Jihyun scrunched her nose, “I’ve had take-out three days in a row, if I have it one more time I might puke.”

“Cook?”

“Cooking for his kids is easy,” Jihyun nodded. “Do you want to go now?”

“It all depends on you, baby. It’s whatever you want.”

“Jiho and Jihu oppa are starting to compare their times in the military and I kind of don’t care to listen.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Goodbyes were lengthy, as he expected. Even with the holidays coming up it wasn’t certain that they would all see each other the same. It was a miracle that Jihoon got a break from the hospital with his schedule and it was a coincidence that Jihu was discharged a week ago. With hugs and kisses divided for each, including Jaehyun, they left the Kim household, Jihyun swinging their joined hands as they walked towards the car.

“Happy?” Jaehyun asked, smiling at Jihyun’s kiss.

“Happiest,” she sighed. “I got to see my brothers, remembered how annoying they were. I got married, my family loves my husband, and now I’m going to show off my ring to the cashier.”

“Behave.”

“Nope.” Jihyun grinned, hopping in the passenger seat before Jaehyun closed the door.

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Tug of War (Ch 4)

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Word Count: 2,816

Final exam season had finally come. To say the seniors of Casper High were stressed was an understatement, college application deadlines were also quickly approaching.

Wes Weston however, was stressed for a whole other reason. His attempt before winter break to awaken the angry ghostliness in Fenton wasn’t enough. He only saw Fenton ripping out all the decorations, without glowing green eyes or anything else ghostly he could catch on camera. And to make manners worse, the school’s caretaker blamed him for leaving shattered ornaments in the halls so he winded up with detention. It wasn’t even his fault!

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Stealing another glance at the classroom’s wall clock, he scowled when he realized that he still had twenty minutes to burn until his computer science exam ended. 

Might as well not let this time go to waste. Pushing aside his completed exam, he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and began to brainstorm other ways to infuriate Fenton. He stole a glance at Fenton’s sidekick, Foley, hastily writing away. Frowning, he turned back to his page. 

Meanwhile, for Danny, he has never felt this anxious ever before in his life. 

Before, when he was barely scraping by in class, he was beginning to accept that his dreams would remain as that. Just dreams. Protecting the town would always come first. He became indifferent to his grades because 1) he’d convinced himself that he was a bad student, nothing could change that, and 2) it wasn’t that important anyways. He could deal with his parents’ disappointment. 

However, after dealing with his exhausting responsibilities for a few years now, he finally learned to properly manage his time. And it showed when he found out he ended last year with a B+ average.

He told himself it was just a fluke, there’s no way Danny Fenton could get those grades. At most, he was a C- student. Yet, a tiny spark of hope flared up and drove Danny to try harder this year. Perhaps it was just a fluke, but who knows? What if it happened again?

And when it kept happening, sometimes even getting back A’s on his tests, then it hit him. He was actually capable of doing well in school. 

Allowing himself to believe that meant that his childhood aspirations were possible. But, there was always that question in the back of his mind: What if this all was just a fluke? His luck could run out anytime. He could easily fail all his exams and lose his chances. And what then?

He could not come back after letting himself believe that he had a future to look forward to. Of all the times he had barely escaped being destroyed by his enemies, it didn’t compare to the mounting fear he had of not getting into college. 

That fear was only accentuated by his stressed classmates. Danny felt ill every time he heard Star talking about all the schools her brother was rejected from, Mikey and Nathan discussing admission cutoffs, and practically everyone going into a panic when their average lowered. Even Dash was worried about meeting his minimum requirement for his football scholarship.

Thing is, Danny couldn’t even look forward to college itself. Don’t get him wrong, he likes learning, especially about space. But he would have to endure four more years of school, plus another two for a masters. 

At first, he just told himself to suck it up. It was a necessary sacrifice.

Now though, he was conflicted. He had to do his undergrad in some science-related college program to be eligible for the space program. However, what if he ended up in an undergrad program he didn’t like? He’d be stuck with it. What if college is too hard for him? He could very well fail everything and get kicked out. Then he wouldn’t even be able to continue to get a masters. And of course, the biggest question of them all: would he able to handle juggling his ghostly responsibilities and college for the next six years? Heck, with how stressed out Jazz seems these days, how much worse would it be for him?

Danny was simultaneously afraid of both getting in and not getting into college.

“Hey Danny, you alright?” asked Sam.

Like always, he pushed these worries away into that overcrowded space in the back of his mind. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” he mumbled before rereading the same sentence in his textbook for the twentieth time.

“Are you sure? We could just take a bre—”

Suddenly, his ghost sense went off.

~

Danny gripped his bleeding forearm. He just needed it to clot, then his self-healing would eventually kick in. But it wasn’t clotting. He worriedly watched as his blood tinged with ectoplasm dripped onto the floor. This wasn’t good.

He looked up at Sam with desperate eyes, who bit her lip. “Hang on, I think have something that’ll help. Be right back,” she assured before scurrying from their secluded refuge under the staircase.

She returned not even a minute later, holding a flat square object wrapped in colourful plastic. Danny’s eyes widened and before he could even protest, she unpackaged and wrapped it around his wound.

Sam’s gaze hardened when he started squirming away. “Danny, it’s just a pad.”

“Bu—”

“It’s either this or one of your socks. Now relax, we need to get the bleeding to stop before next period.”

“What’s next period?”

“Bio exam, remember?”

“Dammit.” He thumped his head against the wall.

“It’s okay, we’ve still got a bit of time bef—”

The two teens tensed as they heard footsteps coming from the height of the staircase.

“Danny, quick, hide it!” she said in a panicked whisper.

“How am I supposed to hide a bleeding arm?!” he quietly exclaimed.

She huffed at his reply before swiftly releasing her pressure on his arm, rolling up his sweater sleeve over the pad, and using his other hand to press on the wound again through his sweater.

“Ah, hello Mr. Fenton, just the man I was looking for. And Ms. Manson,” Lancer greeted, suspiciously eyeing how close the two teens were sitting. He wasn’t naive, he was aware of what some of his students get up to in these secluded areas of the school. “I’m sorry to interrupt, can I have a word with you Daniel?”

“Mr. Lancer, I swear I-I...”

“Relax, you’re not in trouble. I’d just like a moment to speak with you.”

“Uh…” Danny hesitated.

“If this is not the best time, you can always speak to me later. Although, I implore you that you should see me sooner than later on this matter.”

“Oh…okay.” He glanced at Sam, who was frowning in worry. Forcing a reassuring smile on his face, he stood up from her and followed Lancer to his classroom.

As they walked through the halls, he tried to arrange his arms in a more casual position while placing a little more pressure on the wound.

“Mr. Fenton, I recall reading that you aspire to become an astronaut from one of your essays in 9th grade,” Lancer mentioned as he unlocked his classroom’s door.

Following him into the classroom, Danny replied warily, “Uh...yeah?” How the heck did Lancer remember something so miniscule from something he wrote ages ago?

His English teacher approached his desk and grabbed something from a drawer. “Have you heard of the Young Astronauts program?” he asked, presenting a pamphlet to him.

“No?” Danny momentarily released his hold on his injured arm to accept it, only to regret when he felt something warm drip down his arm. Shit! He held the pamphlet with his index and middle finger while quickly resuming his hold, praying for nothing to bleed through his sleeve. Why won’t it clot already??

Meanwhile, Lancer scrutinized his unusual movements for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been informed that this program fast tracks you to becoming an astronaut at NASA. Though it’s very competitive, once in, you only have to complete a four year practical program before you’re fully eligible for the space program.”

“Really?” He used his thumb to flip through the brochure, getting more excited as he read the outline of the program. However, once he reached the admission requirements section, his excitement suddenly deflated. “What makes you think I can get in?”

“Daniel, if you maintain what you have right now, your grades will be good enough for the requirements. Also, I’d be more than happy to write that letter of reference for you,” he smiled warmly.

His teacher’s sincerity caught him by surprise. “Oh, uh...thanks Mr. Lancer.”

“Anytime. Now, I think there’s an email at the back to contact if you have any questions. I won’t steal anymore of your precious studying time.”

Right when Danny’s foot was out the door, Lancer spoke up again, “Actually, there’s one more thing I mean to ask. Is your arm okay?”

His question stopped Danny right in his tracks. “What do you m-mean?” he nervously asked, voice cracking.

“Well, I can’t help but notice how you’re holding your arm there,” he commented.

“I…” Danny’s brain frantically searched for an excuse. 

Lancer frowned at his hesitation. 

“It’s...it’s a temporary tattoo,” he blurted.

“Pardon?”

“Y-you know those stick-on tattoos you have to press down for like a minute? I-yeah,” Danny improvised.

Lancer blinked. He did not expect that reply at all from the boy. Though, it did make sense. “Ah, very well. See you later Daniel. Good luck on your finals.”

Danny uttered out a goodbye before he all but ran to the bathroom to check his arm.

~

Danny jumped when he felt someone poking him. Turning around, he realized it was only Sam.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“About what happened yesterday, I think you need this.” She thrusted a big first-aid kit in his arms. “We really shouldn’t resort to using my pads anymore,” she chuckled.

“But, I already have one at home though?”

“Yeah, but I think we need one here. Just keep it in your locker, okay?”

“Uh…” He suddenly thought of Wes. Would he even stoop that low to use this as evidence? Probably. Danny sighed, he better not mess with it. This kit looked pretty expensive…

“Sam, you didn’t have to go and buy this.”

“It’s no big deal. I wanted to.”

“Bu—”

“Danny, I don’t have time for this. Stop being stubborn and just take it,” she insisted.

“Fine.” He unhappily grabbed the first-aid kit. “One day I’m paying you back for everything.”

“You honestly don’t have to. Anyways, gotta go!” she blurted before hurrying to her English exam. Two seconds later, the bell rang.

Shit, their English exam! He quickly dumped the kit at the bottom of his locker and ran after her. Hopefully Wes wouldn’t make too big of a deal out of the kit.

~~

Danny turned the corner of the hall and halted in his step when he saw Wes at their locker. Nope, he wasn’t dealing with him today. There was way too much on his mind with the start of the new semester. Calculus was already proving to be the bane of his existence.

He was about to turn around but had to do a double take when he noticed Paulina was there too. Talking to Wes. Weird.

He was too far to hear what they were saying, but Danny’s former crush seemed to be really excited for some reason. Wes then pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. Danny swore he saw Paulina discreetly slip a wad of cash into his other hand before accepting the envelope.

What the heck. What could Wes possibly have that Paulina would pay that kind of money for? You know what, he wasn’t even gonna ask. He needs to start heading to chemistry. Wes could be selling drugs for all he knows; he doesn’t care. 

~

Seeing Wes that morning almost completely slipped from Danny’s mind until he approached his locker after school, this time with a backpack full of textbooks from his new classes. 

He instantly spotted a yellow sticky note on the door which read “MEET ME @ BACK FIELD - DASH” in a hastily scrawled blocky script.

The two most popular kids at Casper High both reached out to Wes today. That doesn’t just happen to anyone, especially someone like Wes. Danny couldn’t help but feel a little curious. 

Selling drugs seems a little too out-of-character for him. He’s the type of person to expose the school’s drug dealers instead of being one himself. What else could he be selling then? Test answers? No, the semester just started. 

As Danny placed his books on the top shelf, he paused when he noticed a small envelope in the very back. Squinting a bit, he saw that it had “Dash” written on it in tiny letters. Upon grabbing it, it felt like it contained something like cardstock. 

Wait. After flipping it, he realized the envelope wasn’t sealed up. And he caught the slight shine of photos peeking from inside.

Last time he heard, neither Dash nor Paulina were interested in photography...

Before he could even act on his now burning curiosity, an all too familiar voice startled him, causing him to drop the envelope in his hands. Its contents spilled all over the floor.

“Fenton, what are you doing?!” screamed Wes before stomping over to him.

“I…” Danny’s reply was lost to him when he stared in bewilderment at the photos lying on the floor. They all...they were of him. Specifically, him during a fight with Ember last week. What shocked him even more was their quality. There was one where he was kneeling, smirking almost directly at the camera while both of his hands held bright green ectoenergy, casting his face in an eerie yet alluring glow.

“You’ve been selling pictures of me??”

“What the hell Fenton? These are supposed to be for Dash!” Wes yelled angrily before crouching, carefully putting back the photos in the envelope.

“Did you not hear me? Wh—how long have you been doing this?”

“None of your business. The photos are mine, I can do what I want with them,” Wes arrogantly asserted.

Danny couldn’t even fathom the audacity of this guy. He knew Wes sometimes stalked him while he was out as Phantom. Sometimes he annoyingly distracted him with the flash of his camera. However, over time he’d realized there was really no harm to it, as long as Wes stayed out of the way. He only seemed to use the footage for his so-called “evidence”. Rather than wasting his energy getting him to leave, Danny understood that there were bigger things he should be focusing on. 

This was just crossing a line though. Danny usually doesn’t mind people making money off of his ghost half. In fact, he himself is probably the one who buys most of the unlicensed Phantom merch at Amity’s souvenir shops. But something about seeing Wes doing it too infuriated him to no end.

Instantly, Danny lunged at him to grab the envelope. Unfortunately, Wes reflexively sidestepped out of the way, and held it behind his back like a basketball a defender was trying to steal. Danny fumed, “Wes, you didn’t even bother to ask to take them! Give them back!” 

Wes kept nothing more than an irritated expression on his face as he continued to hold back the envelope.

Just before Danny was about to take another leap at the red-haired creep, he suddenly heard Dash’s voice from behind.

“Hey Fenturd, get outta the way. I need to talk to Weasel for a sec.”

Danny snapped his head around to see the school’s quarterback standing there impatiently. Fortunately, because of his growth spurt a year or so back, Dash no longer towered over him. Also, around that time, the bully has gradually moved on to harassing the smaller newer kids at Casper. Dash really wasn’t a problem at all for Danny anymore, though he still couldn’t help feeling at edge around him after all this time. He unconsciously took a few steps away from him.

Meanwhile, Wes scowled at his nickname. “Hey, don’t call me that. Otherwise the deal’s off,” he stated in an annoyed tone.

Dash huffed, “Fine.” He pulled out a fifty from his letterman jacket and handed it to Wes, who freely gave the envelope in exchange.

“Those demos I showed you last week plus a few extras are all in there,” Wes said while he sifted through the envelope.

“Looks good,” Dash commented, unable to keep the giddy smile from appearing on his face. He genuinely thanked Wes before slipping the photos into his pocket and leaving.

After a moment, Wes sneered, “Fenton, I’ll stop when you reveal yourself to everyone. Besides, why the heck should Danny Fenton be concerned about me selling photos I took of Danny Phantom without his consent?”

Danny’s glare only hardened as he watched Wes walk off.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Having a whale of a great time!

Scuba diving in the Crystal Blue Lagoon? Check. Collecting pearl oysters and whatever else lies at Sea Glass Shores. Check.  Crafting a bunch of cool floaties and braving the Shimmering Whirlpool? Check and check. Riding whales towards the sunset? Check!

Vacationing at the Sparkle Islands has been exactly what I needed! It's nice meeting up with Lenie again as well as Nico and Dewey. The Fairweathers have been taking a break from recording and performing so they've been focusing on adventuring and solo endeavors.

I can't believe that Lenie's a college senior now - where did the time go? Jimmy's busy with family stuff so that's why he's not with us. It feels like forever since I last saw him - but that's what video chats are for! Also, his kids are adorable and I'm glad to finally meet them as well as his husband. Nico's been globe trotting as usual, full of fun and exciting stories to tell us. Dewey's been taking it easy, trying to create a better work-life balance after taking on too much last year.

So far their break has been going really well. With everything going on in their personal lives, they could really take some time off. Artist's block sucks but sometimes there's nothing you can really do about it other than wait it out and focus on other things. Creativity can be finicky, especially when you've got other things on your mind like responsibilities, burnout, or a busy schedule.

I've been in a bit of a creative slump as well. From running events at the camp to personal life stuff getting in the way, I've been feeling off this past week. Like I can't relax because I have a million things running in my mind. If I'm expecting a call or email I find myself unable to focus on anything else because I'm too busy mentally preparing for having to do something that makes me nervous and often drained at the end.

Fortunately, I managed to get pretty much all the boring and stressful adulting stuff out of the way. But after spending most of last week being on edge, it's hard to fall back into my normal rhythm. I've been kinda on autopilot, just trying to get through the day. Up until a couple days ago I've been feeling pretty meh most of the time.

Usually, to de-stress, I turn to art. Doodling, journaling, knitting - whatever creative medium I'm in the mood for. But when you're in an art block, it causes more stress. As someone who's been journaling for years, there will be times when you've hardly touched your notebook in days, weeks, and even months. I have to say, though, since running the camp I've been journaling in a somewhat regular basis - especially when I started incorporating art journaling into it - but I still have times when I'm just not feeling it.

Sometimes getting your feelings out on paper doesn't help, especially when you don't have the words to explain exactly how you feel without it sounding forced or an incomprehensible mess of words. There are times when I want to write about something but the words just don't come out right, so I end up scrapping the whole thing. And of course, there are times when I want to write about something that's been on my mind, only to end up rambling about something else and going off on that tangent.

Then there are times when your mind is so fogged up that you come up completely empty. Up until today, I've been head full of fog, thoughts completely empty. Still kinda feels like that, to be completely honest, but the fog's slowly clearing up. I think the whale ride really helped with that.

As someone who believes a change of scenery and a good distraction helps when life takes a lot of out you, I find that I have a hard time following my own advice. I'm all about taking time to forget your troubles and worries for a bit, but yet I'm having difficulty doing so. I don't know why, but I always find it difficult to completely let loose - like I let myself have fun but at the same time my worries are always there in the back of my mind. It's like I'm subconsciously telling myself to have fun, but not too much fun. As much as I want to let go, there's a part of me that holds on, making me afraid to let myself fall freely.

What's the point in telling people to escape their troubles for a bit when I can't even do that without feeling like I'm doing something wrong? It's not that I don't know how to have fun - though it's taken a lot longer for me to catch on than most people - but sometimes it feels forced. I don't know, it's always something I've struggled with - at least compared to most of my peers growing up. Maybe part of it comes from being a convenient person - one who doesn't ask for much, someone who doesn't go out of their way to bring attention to themselves - the kind of person who tags along and is just there.

It's kinda like I don't know exactly how to have fun. Sort of like I'm second guessing myself by wondering, "Is this what having fun feels like? Am I doing it right? Is this enough?" and of course, that totally defeats the purpose of escaping and letting go.

I have to say, being at the camp as helped a lot in terms of teaching me how to live in the moment and enjoy the good times to the fullest. It's still a bit of a new concept for me, but at least I'm coming out of my shell - and that's what counts. Maybe I'll never be as carefree as some people - I've been told that I'm kinda low-key and serious by nature - and I'm okay with that. Sometimes I wish that I could be a bit more vocal and expressive and active, but most of the time I'm happy with being an observer and doing my own thing in the background.

It was Chai and Rhonda's idea to visit the Sparkle Islands. It was on the list for a while but for the past year the islands were undergoing a lot of reconstruction so a lot of places were closed. Leyla, who's one of the princesses of the islands, was behind a lot of the restoration and repair of various sites.

Turns out that I just missed her when we visited Maron Heights to watch our friends perform in After Hours at the Opera. Because she was so busy getting the islands back in shape, she dropped by to see the show the night before we came and went back home the next morning.

Like with Kat, Hawk, AJ, and Elara, Leyla's been going through a bunch of changes as well now that things are settling down. Aside from rebuilding the islands, Leyla's getting reacquainted with her mom Archer, who disappeared about twenty years ago in a disaster that left part of the main island in shambles for years. Having her back is still a huge adjustment for Leyla and her momma Rosie as she missed out on a lot. Leyla and Kat are pretty much on the same page when it comes to reuniting with a parent who was presumed dead for most of their lives. Despite the initial awkwardness, things are going well.

As for Leyla, a heated reunion between her moms led to an unexpected surprise - three actually. In about five months their little family of three will double in size. While her moms are terrified, Leyla's at the point where she's fully looking forward to having three new siblings. Sure, it'll be tough as her moms are out of practice with taking care of a baby (or babies). The way Leyla sees it, the 20 + age difference is more of an advantage because she can easily help take care of the babies as her moms will definitely be overwhelmed.

So along with overseeing the islands, Leyla's been helping Rosie take care of Archer, who's on strict bedrest. Archer's doing okay for the most part but the pregnancy has taken a toll on her, especially since there's a high potential for complications. Now with reconstruction almost done - about 98% according to Leyla - she has been spending a lot of time with her moms.

It was by chance that we ran into Lenie and her brothers as well as Leyla and her moms. Leyla's been dropping by to check in on us but it wasn't until today she joined us on a fun filled day of crafting floaties and riding whales. Rosie insisted that Leyla take a well deserved break and invited us for dinner when we got back.

Crafting floaties was a lot of fun and so was diving in the Shimmering Whirlpool. It does take some getting used to though, and one should be a somewhat experienced swimmer as the currents can get quite unpredictable. A bit too rough for my liking at times - not a fan of being spun around quickly because motion sickness, ugh - but overall it was an interesting experience. Definitely more into crafting floaties though.

Maybe I would be more of a thrill seeker if I didn't get so dizzy easily. I can't even look at something spinning for more than half a minute without feeling a headache coming on.

Late afternoon and evening were much more chill, thankfully. Bubble tea, sandwiches, and ice cream at the beach. Building sandcastles and breaking open coconuts. Lying on a beach towel under an umbrella and watching the waves. It's hard to believe that a couple months ago this place was left in ruins.

The biggest highlight was the whale ride. Leyla set us up with some of her friends, who were more than happy to let us hop on and show us the ocean. And I have to say, it was an amazing experience!

For a moment, I was able to let go completely. No worries, no doubts, no second guessing myself. Just bliss and exhilaration. A rare moment in which I get to be in the moment instead of being aware that I'm living a memory that I'll be looking back on fondly someday. It's strange, to lose yourself like that and not feel... weird? Guilty? Disconnected? Like you're not enjoying it enough because a part of your mind is elsewhere.

Riding a whale towards a sunset - what a way to spend an evening! I guess my takeaway from this mind blowing experience is that I need to learn that a part of having fun is letting happiness come to you instead of forcing it or telling yourself that you should be enjoying this. I need to keep that in mind.

[beccaland]

Beccaland reads and responds to an article about Doctor Who that she really should have known better than to have read in the first place

You know how you KNOW you should never read the comments sections, but sometimes you just can’t help yourself? That’s usually how I feel about reading articles about Doctor Who during the past few years, except from a handful of trusted sources. Yet there I was this morning, checking my regular email from Tor.com, and out of a slightly-morbid curiosity, I found myself reading “How It Feels to Want to Watch Doctor Who Again” by Alex Brown.

Partly, I really am interested in the fans who are getting interested in Doctor Who again. They left for a lot of reasons, and really you can’t begrudge anyone’s waning interest in a TV show. And it would be far, far more silly to begrudge them regaining interest! I’m excited for the awesome changes that are coming on October 7th, too. And I am fully aware that not every era is every fan’s cup of tea. On the other hand, I also know that I’m frequently irritated by the shallow criticism levelled in order to “justify” some fans’ disaffection. So there I was. Reading an article I knew very well was probably going to annoy me, like a masochist.

And just because I feel like it, I’m going to quote a bunch of it and offer my own commentary. I’m going to be as fair as I can, noting where I think a given critique is valid, where I think it’s valid but still disagree, and where I think it’s the same old tired, inaccurate nonsense.

Here we go:

“I miss Doctor Who.”

ME TOO!

“There was a time when I watched it fervently, reverently, passionately. It was something I put on when I was stressed or overwhelmed or needed to be reminded of the good things in life. The relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was powerful and affirming.”

Yeah, I do that too, but I never really stopped.

“Until suddenly it wasn’t.”

I mean, sure. Doctor Who did something on a purely personal and emotional level for the author, and then it stopped. That’s totally fair.

This actually happened to me with the novels in the ‘90s–they just weren’t doing enough for me imaginatively or emotionally anymore to justify the challenge of finding them and the expense of buying them. It happens. (I still wanted Doctor Who in my life though, so I rewatched my VHS tapes instead, until they had degraded in quality to the point where that wasn’t very fun either.)

“The show twisted into something unrecognizable and unpleasant. And so I abandoned Doctor Who just as it had abandoned me.”

The really negatively loaded language here bugs me a lot, but this article is a personal fan narrative more than it is a review, and it’s impossible to refute a subjective response. Clearly, it’s true that Alex Brown and the show were no longer on the same wavelength. So, fair enough.

“If you asked me in 2016 if I would ever watch Doctor Who again, I probably would’ve shaken my head and sighed. The chances of the show making the kind of changes necessary to pull me back seemed slim to none. But here we are, fall 2018, and I am so excited about the Season 11 premiere that I can barely stand it.”

I’m really happy about everyone coming back. I share this excitement!

[I’m omitting a couple of paragraphs here where Brown describes more of what Doctor Who meant to her when she first encountered the show during an obviously extremely difficult time in her life. It’s really moving, and I find it relatable in some ways.]

“With the takeover by Steven Moffat in 2010, my relationship with the Doctor shifted dramatically. As much as I loved Doctor Who, I wasn’t blinkered to its myriad problems.”

See, my issue with this is simply that it implies that people like me ARE “blinkered by its myriad problems.” We’re not. But sometimes we disagree about what those problems are, or where the blame (and praise) for those problems (and their amelioration) properly lies. Hence this post.

“Trouble was, the annoying but tolerable issues were magnified into something unbearable by Moffat’s numerous faults as showrunner. Under Moffat, seasons went from episodic romps loosely knitted together by repeating themes—think “Bad Wolf” Easter eggs throughout the first season—to Lost-style mystery box seasons bogged down in an increasingly convoluted and grimdark mythology.”

I think it’s fair to say that the series 6 arc in particular was much heavier than previously attempted by the show, and this was a turnoff for some viewers. Personally, I liked it a lot conceptually, but I acknowledge that it could have been better executed. It’s also not representative of Moffat’s whole era; he experimented a lot with structure. That in itself was probably frustrating to some viewers–again, I liked it a lot, but that’s neither here nor there.

However, calling the Moffat era “grimdark” is frankly bizarre. It seems to confuse a shift in LIGHTING with a shift in TONE. The Moffat era’s TONE was, if anything, substantially more hopepunk than the RTD era (to say nothing of Torchwood, which Brown also professes to adore).

“River Song, Cybermen, Daleks, and the Master work best when used sparingly,”

Yeah, I agree.

“but Moffat dragged them out of the toy box so often that they lost their appeal.”

A criticism that (aside from River, for whom YMMV) applies equally to the RTD era.

“Even the Doctor suffered from too much focus. Doctor Who is a show that flourishes when it cares more about the people the Doctor helps than the Doctor. The Doctor is much more interesting as a character who drops into other people’s stories than when everyone else exists only to serve the Doctor’s narrative.”

This is a matter of taste, and on that level cannot be refuted.

But I’m not actually sure it’s true that the stories in the Moffat era focused more on the Doctor than was the case in previous eras. It didn’t seem that way to me. I suppose one could develop some way of objectively evaluating the validity of that premise, but I’m not going to go to that much trouble.

“Worse, women went from equals with their own vibrant lives to codependent followers.”

This is not merely a matter of personal taste. It is an assertion about content of the sort which could hypothetically be supported by evidence. If it were true. And it is literally the opposite of true. It’s a gross mischaracterization of the Moffat era companions, and moreover ignores the sometimes-problematic characterizations of the RTD era companions. I’m skipping the rest of that paragraph, which merely rehashes worn-out, shallow readings of Amy and Clara’s characters. I have nothing to say about those arguments that I haven’t said elsewhere before.

“[Moffat’s] seeming disdain for how fans interpreted the series,”

Showrunners SHOULD disdain how fans interpret their work. Or, more accurately, they should ignore it. Since fans are a motley bunch, the alternative would be a total lack of creative vision, either deeply bland or utterly fractured.

“for critiques of his own biases and bigotries,”

In reality, Steven Moffat demonstrated a remarkable openness to critiques of his biases and made steady progress in addressing them both in front of the camera and behind the scenes.

“and for the depth the show was capable of became a virus that infected everything.”

From where I sit, Doctor Who demonstrated far more depth during the Moffat era than during the RTD era (and some of the deepest scripts in RTD’s era were written by Moffat and according to RTD, barely touched by his editorial influence). I’m willing to consider the possibility that the RTD era displayed depths that I failed to perceive, but given the number of times I’ve rewatched it and the fact that I study texts for a living, I have to say I think that’s a long shot. I would welcome a persuasive analysis of the depths of the RTD era.

“I have never been one to shy away from dropping shows that I no longer like, but I held onto Doctor Who longer than I should have. I finally tapped out after the frustrating penultimate episode of Season 6, “The Wedding of River Song.” Reductive, repetitive, and boring, the episode encapsulated everything I couldn’t stand about Moffat’s storytelling.”

OK, Brown has got a point there. I love TWORS for purely personal reasons (it was just FUN, in the same way that the more crazy-ambitious failures often are in Doctor Who), but I’m under no illusions about its quality. In addition to being “reductive [and] repetitive” that episode was also rushed and full of holes. I didn’t find it boring, but that’s a subjective thing.

It’s a bit weird though that Brown claims to have quit watching Doctor Who at the end of series 6, since earlier she critiqued both Clara and Moffat’s “over"use of Missy, both of whom post-date Brown’s purported exit. Hmm. Seems like (as is not uncommon, in my experience) people who dislike Moffat base a lot of their dislike on mere hearsay.

"Although Moffat drove me away from Doctor Who, other factors kept me from coming back. A not insignificant chunk of my exhaustion came from the frustratingly limited diversity and the frequently poor treatment of characters of color—see Martha and Bill, plus the weirdness around the few major interracial relationships.”

OK, this is approximately half fair. There WAS a frustrating lack of diversity which continued well into Moffat’s era. Martha and her weird marriage to Mickey are RTD’s doing entirely. And the author claims not to have ever seen series 10, so she’s hardly in a place to evaluate Bill’s treatment (which, for the record, seemed pretty great to me–vastly better than in any previous era, anyway, though there’s no doubt that there is still room for improvement).

“Prior to Season 11 there had never been an Asian or South Asian companion despite the fact that people of South Asian ancestry make up nearly 7% of the population of England and Wales, according to the most recent census. Islam is the second largest religion in the UK, yet Muslims are also largely absent from the show, and certainly from the role of companion.”

This is a totally fair criticism.

“Moffat said it was hard to cast diversely without impinging on historical accuracy,”

Gonna want a citation for that one; I admit it’s possible he said something like that at some point but I feel like I would remember if he had.

“a notion that is patently false and wholly ignorant of actual history.”

A point which Sarah Dollard makes in the series 10 episode “Thin Ice,” with the enthusiastic approval of Moffat himself.

“To be fair, Moffat also admitted this claim was nonsense and rooted in a white-centric view of history and acknowledged that the show needed to do better…then made absolutely no changes.”

Thanks for being fair…almost. In fact he made substantial changes during his tenure, though most happened after Alex Brown quit paying attention. Seems to me that if you’re going to write an article for a blog affiliated with a major SF publisher, you might actually want to check your facts rather than relying on information that’s several years out of date (if it was ever true).

“And don’t even get me started on frequent Moffat collaborator and Who writer Mark Gatiss who infamously whined about diversity initiatives ruining historical accuracy because they cast a Black man as a soldier on an episode about Queen Victoria’s army battling Ice Warriors on Mars.”

Yeah, this I do remember. Ew, Gatiss! What were you thinking?

“Not to mention Moffat’s asinine declarations that we couldn’t have a woman Doctor becausehe 'didn’t feel enough people wanted it’ and 'This isn’t a show exclusively for progressive liberals; this is also for people who voted Brexit.’”

This is also the man who wrote the first-ever gender-changing regeneration (of the Doctor, no less!) in his comedy special, “The Curse of the Fatal Death,” the first female incarnation of a previously male Time Lord (Missy, who turned out to be incredibly popular), and the first official, non-comedy, on-screen gender-changing regeneration scene (the General, in Hell Bent), thus paving the way for even many of those non-liberal, Brexit-voting audiences to accept a female Doctor, and making it virtually impossible for the BBC not to do it without looking like total assholes (though by that point they were totally on board and needed to further persuasion).

But sure, go ahead and cherry-pick a couple of real-but-not-representative Moffat quotes to perpetuate your misogynistic Moffat pseudo-narrative.

[Cutting the rest of that paragraph because it adds nothing to the critique]

“Why can’t we have a trans or disabled companion? Why can’t the Doctor be a queer woman of color?”

These are totally legitimate questions, and we should keep asking them.

“Do you know what it’s like to be told by someone in a position of power that you don’t belong here? That you are an aberration, a glitch in the matrix, that including you would be so inaccurate that it would collapse the narrative structure of a fictional television show that features a frakking alien traveling through time in a police box?”

Yes. I do.

And when you dismissed Amy and Clara as mere sexist stereotypes, mere codependent hangers-on of the Doctor, you re-inflict that wound on me and many other fans, because you’ve been granted a position of power, a platform in the blog of a major international SF publisher.

“Hearing that message all the time from pop culture is hard enough, but to get it from my favorite show was heartbreaking.”

I feel ya, Alex Brown. This needs to continue to be addressed.

But I’ll also remind readers that the Moffat era, despite its still-too-limited representation, gave us more disability representation than any other era of the show up to that point.

“Cut to the Jodie Whittaker announcement in July, 2017. For the first time in years, I watched the Christmas special—live, no less. To give credit where credit is due, Moffat’s swan song exceeded my (very low) expectations and Peter Capaldi was as excellent as I hoped he’d be. Whittaker had almost no screen time, but what she did get left me with a smile a mile wide.

"On top of her pitch-perfect casting, Thirteen will also be joined by three new companions, one a Black man and another a woman of Indian descent. Plus, the Season 11 writers’ room has added a Black woman, white woman, and a man of Indian descent. Several women will also be directing. New showrunner Chris Chibnall proclaimed that the renovated show will tell 'stories that resonate with the world we’re living in now,’ and will 'be the most accessible, inclusive, diverse season’ ever produced.

"These changes go beyond tokenism and into real diversity work. The show isn’t just sticking a woman in the titular role and patting themselves on the back. Diversity can’t just be about quotas. It must be about inclusion and representation in front of and behind the camera. Marginalized people need to be able to tell our own stories and speak directly to our communities. The majority already gets to do that, and now that conversation needs to happen across the board. The show still has a lot of work to do, both in terms of undoing the status quo of harmful tropes and in laying strong groundwork for later casts and crews. Yet, somewhat surprisingly, I feel hopeful for the show’s future.”

I totally agree with these three paragraphs (except I had high expectations of TUAT, which were also exceeded). In fact these paragraphs are a big part of why I felt like this article was worth sharing. I just couldn’t do it without significant reservation.

“And isn’t hope what the show is really all about? Doctor Who is a story about the hope for a better tomorrow, faith in your companions, and trust that you’re doing the right thing. It’s about a hero using their immense powers responsibly and in order to benefit those who need it the most. The Doctor creates space for the marginalized to stand up and speak out, to fight for their rights against those who would silence or sideline them.”

I’m not totally sure that that’s ever really been true before, but it’s an ongoing aspiration that the show keeps moving closer to.

“For too long, that ideal was lost to puzzle boxes, bloated mythology, and trope-y characters”

No it wasn’t. See above.

“but with the appearance of each new Thirteenth Doctor trailer, my hope grows a little more.

"It’s not often that you find your way back to something you loved and lost. At first, Doctor Who was a touchstone during my trials and hardships. Then it became a cornerstone in the foundation of the new life I was building. For a long time I left it encased in a wall, hidden in the basement of my subconscious, untouched and unwanted. Yet here I stand, sledgehammer in hand, putting a hole in that wall. I have set free my love of Doctor Who as Jodie Whittaker cheers me on. October 7 can’t come soon enough.”

This sentiment is really lovely. Welcome back, Alex Brown, and every other fan returning to Doctor Who after an absence of any length and for any reason. It’s shaping up to be a great new era.

Please remember, though, when talking to other fans, that other eras meant as much to some of them as this one means to you, and for similar reasons.

To those who are leaving because of toxic discourse about previous eras making them feel like their presence isn’t welcome and/or participating in fandom right now will only cause them pain: I’m going to miss you. I hope your DVDs and Big Finish and stuff continue to bring you joy. I hope you’ll come back again when it’s safe to do so.

To those who are leaving because they don’t like the idea of a female Doctor and/or two POC companions: BYE BYE! To be honest, nobody will miss you, but nevertheless I hope that eventually you realize how silly and harmful your biases are. When you do, I hope you’ll come back to Doctor Who. And you’ll be welcome.

[italianexotiicbeauty]

Mary Savarese / Phoenix Fire

[ A HAUNTING IN MYSTIC. ] // [ cameos: Kelly Savarese-Becker & Reuben Gimness! * with permission ] In ghostlore, a haunted house or ghost house is a house or other building often perceived as being inhabited by disembodied spirits of the deceased who may have been former residents or were otherwise connected with the property. Being in a different body with the exact same consciousness in another timeline sounded almost like it was science fiction, matter of fact it likely would seem to be an episode of at least The Twilight Zone. However, it was in fact a reality for one Mary Savarese - the fates did not think her job was done and manipulated not just TIME but SPACE as well to bring her consciousness into another body ( and her powers followed a few days later ). Suppose it helped they somehow mystically found a woman who had been in a coma for two weeks, but of course when she woke up whomever that woman had been did not exist. No, when she opened her eyes - guess who she had seen standing near her bedside? Her older sister, Kelly. How else did she know that she was herself and not the person she took over?! Plus, that reminded her of that one Stargate: Atlantis episode where Cadman was also trapped inside McKay, yes she literally asked in her own mind about twenty times if she was the only consciousness inhabiting that body. No response every single time answered that. Guess what she was also still fully aware of? How fragmented her memory was so when she asked Kelly why she had been in the hospital? The elder Savarese for a second looked bewildered before recollecting her younger sister's memory, "You fell into one of the tanks at Mystic Aquarium - they are not sure . . . how you even got in, all they found on you were your keys, wallet and those four bracelets." . . . Three for four, get you in the door. A voice in the corner of her mind seemed to whisper, making her expression crestfallen instead of shocked which alarmed her sister. "Mare? I know you had been at Katie's grave earlier that day, and then Nonna Rita's -- you weren't trying to join them were you?" Blinking a few times, a familiar look of anger made her sister take a step back at the suggestion. "Okay, my mistake for even thinking that. Don't . . . melt or burn anything." Thankfully, that did not happen nor did Kelly seem at all aware that Mary was currently without her powers. "I realize that my best friend since junior high has been dead for almost three years now, and Grandma Rita has been dead longer but we both know the only thoughts I ever struggle with? What to have for dinner." In this timeline, Mary did not seem to have her dogs - she checked her wallet and if they existed? There would be pictures of them in there but there weren't. "I want a dog." Kelly seemed genuinely taken aback by her sister's random statement, "What breed?" The nurse walked in with the release papers, Mary had to take it easy for the next few days and Kelly drove her back to the hotel she was staying at. For some reason, she had removed her wallet, keys, and the bracelets before dropping into the tank. Which tank? . . . The shark tank. With cuts on both palms, so they ruled out a suicide and somehow the camera feed was all wonky as well. Mary flopped, face first onto the bed with a groan before rolling onto her back. "A Greenland Husky, a Bernese Mountain Dog, a Doberman, a Beligian Malinois, a Corgi, and a German Shepherd - or just one of those." Carefully, Mary sat up as Kelly handed over her niece who cooed and babbled at her aunt - seems that in this timeline, Kelly still had both kids and her husband. "Question, before you go back home . . ." She was snuggling her niece before watching her crawl on the bed, dark eyes watching the little one before her mother picked her up again and put her back in the car seat. "Yes?" Both eyebrows raised as Kelly looked to her younger sister, then turning to smile down at her daughter. ". . . By some chance there was not a shiny gold wrist communicator like right out of power rangers found with me, was there?" Mary bit on her lower lip, feeling the familiar protrusion of her piercing when teeth reached the left corner of the flesh. Ooh! Still have that and likely all of my ink! She thought to herself while looking up at Kelly again. "Well?" "Thought my silence answered that question, that's a no." Shaking her head, Kelly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her baby sister's temple before covering her daughter with the little blanket that occupied the car seat with her. "Just try and get some rest okay? Not sure why you were even at Mystic, but just go on home to Savannah." Forcing a smile and a nod like she was ACTUALLY going to listen, Mary waved as Kelly left the hotel room with her niece as well. As soon as they were out of the room, her expression changed and immediately she searched the entire room for either her phone, laptop or tablet. Thankfully, both her phone and laptop were locked up in the little room safe, so she plugged them both in and powered up her laptop to check something in an email. Clicking on one of the opened emails, eyebrows furrowing as she clicked a link and a news article popped up. SIX FOUND DEAD IN MYSTIC AQUARIUM MYSTERIOUSLY NEAR THE SHARK TANK. PALMS CUT AND ALL DROWNED. Not that anyone would see it, but her expression paled a little when she clicked on another link from the exact same email that brought her to a forum page. They found a Ouija board and black candles, a friend of mine works for the crime scene clean-up and they had them throw it out along with other known occult items! One user had mentioned, another responded. Sounds about right, like they are trying to not create a mass panic or some shït! Totally a haunting now. ". . . Son of a biaaaaaaaaatch." She rested her forehead on the palms of her hands before scrolling down a little more to read another comment, Guuuuuys! A well known medium in our community did a podcast the other night about thiiiis!! Her spirit guides are warning no one to go there, it's a W R A I T H! " . . . Oh jeeze, that explains so much but the fūck?! Why did I survive?! . . . O h." Dangling around her neck still, was the lone white angel feather which explained how she survived the attack. A wraith is an undead creature whose name originated in Scottish folklore. A type of ghost or spirit, wraiths were traditionally said to be the embodiment of souls who are either on the verge of death, or who have recently passed on. In modern times, the concept of a wraith is more likely to refer to an evil spirit, particularly one which has unfinished business in the mortal realm. They are typically depicted as skeletal figures draped in tattered rags, and are most commonly associated with graveyards or other haunted locales. The modern perception of a wraith is that of an entity which actively seeks harm to those that it encounters, no matter their motivation. ". . . About a thousand miles from noooooowherrrreeeee!" She softly sang to herself while looking something up, turning on her phone to take a few notes before turning off her laptop. WEST HAVEN, CONNECTICUT // 7:45 PM. the alley behind duffy's tavern. Leaning against the brick wall between the bar and another building, Mary checked her watch one time before a portal opened up behind her in the shape of a door. "Mary Savarese?" A dark voice called from within, she tapped her nails on the brick three times. The being spoke again, "What is it you require?" "Four silver bullets, and a silver stake just in case." The being made a noise in it's chest before a small box slid out. "Lovely." She waited until the portal closed again before picking up the box and opening it, inside sat the bullets and the silver stake. "Excellent, the bullets for the heart and throw the stake at the head just to make sure." The box snapped shut and she exited the alley for the lot across the street where her rental was parked, opening up the little backpack in the front seat and taking out the Beretta Px4 storm to empty the bullets from the magazine, as well as the round in the chamber in exchange for the four silver bullets. Once the gun was reloaded, she placed the stake inside the backpack as well and drove back to her hotel. She cringed as she noticed three missed calls from her sister and sighed, deciding to text her back instead. SMS: Kelly I know you wanted me to go home to Savannah but I got unfinished business here. Then I am hopping the first flight out but NOT back to Georgia. SMS: Kelly I'm heading to Virginia Beach an' locatin' an unsuspectin' ex of mine for cuddles after this. Pretty certain he won't turn me down. SMS: Kelly Still thinks I am cute. Turning off the phone, she packed up everything in the room save for the outfit she would wear tomorrow. The suitcase was left open on the floor as every light but the one in the bathroom was turned off, three of the bracelets were on and she could feel the familiar pull at her stomach - like getting ready to travel through a portkey or apparating - she stepped in the far corner of the room and within seconds was within the dark halls of the aquarium. Thankfully, she was near the same location as she had been during her last visit -- oh yes, she remembered which meant that access to the shark tank was just down the hall and behind a locked door. Within seconds though, she was on the other side of the door and half-way up the darkened stairs. The backpack was left hanging on the end of the railing at the top of the stairs, soon she became ignited from head to toe in flames before walking up the rest of the way. Seconds later, she was on the platform that was used by the aquarium staff to feed or check the marine life and it was obvious which tank was the shark one because it was now taped off. Or . . . SHOULD HAVE BEEN. The tape was cut in one section and she could hear voices coming from another area. One in particular caught her attention as a group of people - carrying flashlights and recording equipment - came into view. "Oh, hell has SOOOO frozen over - Reuben Gimness, who in the HÉLL let you investigate?!" At the sound of the familiar voice, Reuben looked over to the shark tank where it came from. "Holy shït -- Hey Mary! Uh, the good people on the board of this fine establishment?" He smiled charmingly, or tried to but started saying ow ow ow ow ow on repeat when she came over and grabbed his ear. "Oh, really? Did you just HAPPEN to leave out the part about bringing tarot cards AND a ouija board to the Opera house here and causing it to be further haunted? No? Yeah did not think so!" Giving his ear a more harsh pinch before letting go, her arms crossed her chest as she glared at him. ". . . Can't BELIEVE you still remember that, come oooon! I am capable!" "Yeah and you do not read texts from books that manifest demonic santa's to hunt us like wild boar either." Her tone snappy as Reuben rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his group of ghost hunters then back at Mary. "Why am I even surprised, a walking spirit box is exactly what this needs - it's a WRAITH Reuben. Or did you just leave that out from when you accepted this case, and enlisted the help of your spooky crew here? Hm?" Mary then tossed the silver stake at Reuben who caught it, "Since you are the tallest out of all these yahoos you decided to endanger - you get to stab it in the head to insure it will not be coming back." Reuben had caught the stake as Mary motioned for the others to hunker down for safety in the starways so they did not get flung around like ragdolls. Reuben had been about to say something when the lights flickered before going off, Mary heard one or two of the Ghostfacer's scream. "Turn off all your flashlights. " The flames around Mary illuminated the area brightly as she stepped away from Reuben, watching the shadows. Extending the light forward, she saw a flicker of movement before pulling Reuben down to the floor with her as the wraith roared in rage as it flew at them. "Seems round two is off to a good start." When she said that, Reuben stared at her. "Oh uh, another story to share over pizza from Pepe's and Foxon Parks I promise." Rolling onto her back, the familiar sound of a hammer clicking back echoed a little in the room."Would now be a good time to ask if you have a plan?" Thankfully, the floor beneath them was dry and the entire front of her body was now wreathed in flames. He could see her glaring at him, the Px4 Storm was lying beside her and her right hand was the only part of her not illuminated by a brilliant orangey-red hue. "I am going to ask you that same question, or better yet !! Watch your dumbass ask Sam or Dean Winchester that one. For the record, yes - four silver bullets to the heart and that stake through its skull to seal the deal." "Where did you learn that?" "You kiddin'? I troll a hunter's forum for advice." Reuben chuckled and then winced when she punched him. "Guuuys!!! It's coming baaack!!" Swearing under her breath, Mary raised the gun into the air as the wraith flew over them and took a gamble - opening fire just as it did, two of the bullets piercing the heart just enough to slow it down. Reuben scrambled to his feet and ran full speed ahead, jumping in order to drive the stake through the wraith's skull . . . which he succeeded in doing but got flung into the nearest wall as the creature began roaring during its final moments. The whole room shaking, Mary grabbed a hold of something when a pocket of air imploded and sent whatever wasn't nailed down flying as it disappeared from sight. The lights came back on and the mice hiding on the stairs raced over to see if their fearless leader was okay, Mary moved back down the stairs for the locked door - backpack in hand and disappeared into the darkness again. BRADLEY INTL. AIRPORT // HARTFORD, CT. 4:45 am. Tiredly, Mary settled into one of the seats near the boarding gate for her very early morning flight to Virginia Beach. She had returned the gun to her safe in Savannah since it was one of the unregistered ones, flying with that would be trouble. Just as she moved to take a sip of her iced latte from Dunkin Donuts, her phone buzzed a few times with texts from Reuben. THREE BODIES END UP MYSTERIOUSLY IN THE CONNECTICUT RIVER NEAR GILLETTE CASTLE. STAFF AND VISITORS REFUSING TO BE ANYWHERE NEAR THE LOCATION WITHOUT ARMED SECURITY. RUMORS OF A MASSIVE BLACK SHADOW WITH YELLOW EYES BEING SEEN . . Mary groaned faintly and just shut her phone off, not even bothering to respond and sipped her caffeinated beverage while waiting for her flight to come in.

[brand-happiness]

A Thorough Guide to Digital Marketing for New Startup Founders

Lately, I have come across several founders who have registered their companies, and now they look forward to building their digital presence. I have met several of them though UPWORK and a few through the good old word-of-mouth. I observed a few common questions that plague these founders. So, in this article, I answer them all. If there be still any questions, use the contact form.

1. What is Digital Marketing? 

Gone are the days when people wanted something they would go to a market and buy. Instead, they go online, check and compare the product/service they need, read reviews, and then finally go for the best. Not only as individuals, businesses too operate in the same way.   What individuals and businesses eventually decide is the outcome strategized by a digital marketer. The entire activity of placing your product/service online for a potential buyer to purchase your offer over other potent offers is digital marketing.

2. Where Do I Get Started with Digital Marketing?

Digital Marketing is a vast subject. So, I will keep things very simple and to the point so that busy founders waste no time in understanding the subject as fast as possible. 2.1- Website The very first thing to get started with your digital marketing is to have a website with exceptional user-experience, look, and feel. Your website is virtual office; keep it clean, precise, and functional. Your website should include a few essential sections that satisfy your visitor's query in no time. About, Contact, Products/Services, Glossary, and the main engine to set wheels to your website, the Blog. 2.2- Create your Google Properties How do you know that everything you have put up on the Blog is making sense to the world? You need analytics to measure that. Digital marketing without analytics and creativity is non-existent. So, register for Google Analytics, Google Search Console, Google Tag Manager, and Google Ads. You may use Adsense if it is not a Business to Business (B2B) but Individual to Business or Business to Customers (B2C). 2.3- Register your Social Media Properties Social Media is the modern marketplace depending on the kind of product/services you offer. You use this audience either for branding or for sales or both. If yours is a B2B venture, you must create your company profile and showcase on LinkedIn. You then create accounts on Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, and Medium. These properties give you a solid landing. If yours is a B2C venture, the order of priority should be TikTok, Facebook, Instagram, Medium, LinkedIn, Twitter, and Reddit. 2.4- Content Marketing Tools Here are two things. Give it a think; social media accounts help you market your content, but how do you even create your content? Search queries are essential nutrients for your content consumption. How do you harvest those queries? Later, you have so much content to be scheduled across so many platforms according to traffic hours, how do you do that? Here's you need a subscription to SEO (will explain below) tools such as HubSpot, SEMRush, Sprout Social etc. These tools come for a price, but they bill you for a reason, and that is the value they add in fortifying a solid content marketing strategy. So, you go the website, the web content and e blogs; you got the resources to grow your Blog and resources to market them. End of it, you also have a fully armed Google to analyze, implement, and measure your impact and give your website a solid start to digital marketing.

3. Why is it Important to Have a Great Website?

I continue from 2.1 that introduces the role of a website in Digital Marketing. Here, let me explain why your website has to be a great website and its qualifying parameters. If your iPad crashes, would you go to a small roadside stall that's pretty dark and doesn't illustrate its capabilities to fix an iPad the desired way? Or, would you choose to go to a well-lit shop, with great ads running on indoor digital display busy with professionals in crisply ironed tees? You may believe in merit, but you know it in your heart that the shop is where you'll go over the roadside fix-shop. If that's the case, it is the same with having a "great" website. A great website is the one where visitors should exactly know where to find what; how to navigate, how to sign up for newsletters, send business queries, browse through your content, and understand the ethos of your existence. A great website should have clear and comprehensive communication that is distinctly different from the competition commanding excellent thought-leadership and steadily acquired domain authorship. The technical aspects include a wireframe with a distinct main menu, sub-menu, categories, call-to-action, a site-map, display banners and company details. Big, bold graphics that easily slip into one's head with attractive creative elements lubricate reception of your website content.

4. What is a Blog? What is Blog Marketing

4.1- Blog A blog is the pilot's cabin—the central digital marketing engine of your website. You drive content about our product, services, wins, case studies, testimonials, and talk about your distinct social ventures to stay relevant to the broader world. Example: As a startup founder, I am sure that you are aware of Medium. I refer to Medium to allude to the nature of content that you should have on your Blog; i.e., your company's Blog. 4.2 - Nature of Blogs & Intention The kind of content that you should begin with for at least the first 6-8 months shouldn't be jargon driven and yet must deliver on the topics. They should be easy to read as the primary goal is to build website authority through high-traffic, backlinking, and SEO, to spread the net in a way that from an entry-level executive to the C-suite executives, all can consume it. 4.3- Blog Marketing & Preparation of an Audience First of all, your blogs should be potent enough to fetch the audience. Secondly, they should prepare the audience through engaging, informative, and delightful content. It is no different for either B2B or B2C when you leverage the Business to Human sentiment. Market your blogs through Social Media, Emails, and other content platforms to build desire audience. Remember that this is an ongoing process audience. Later, with time, you take up more responsibilities for your teams. Once you have built that authority evidenced by your Google Analytics, you have an audience to receive more crucial information about your products and services to push them toward the middle of the funnel where you can intensify At this junction, you introduce other content marketing assets (I've explained it below) to convert this audience into your sales lead.

5. What are SEO, SEM, & SMM? How are they Helpful?

5.1- SEO is Search Engine Optimization While it is always Ecosia on the top of my mind, Google is our primary search engine followed by Bing. Optimizing content for search engine means to make your content suitable for search engine parties. :) Technically, SEO is the process of fetching quality traffic to your website by improving its visibility. SEO is an organic effort to increase your web traffic. It is not suitable for quick results or website promotion when you have just launched your business. Here, you'll need an experienced SEO professional to catch the trending keywords to cook delightful content. 5.2- SEM is Search Engine Marketing Search engine marketing fetches results that are specific to SEO, but this time, you have to pay for it instead of waiting for your luck to shine someday. New businesses are recommended to consider both SEO and SEM to market to promote their websites and increase the visibility without delay. It is almost like if you take the last minute flight for the earliest arrival, you have to pay for the extra convenience. For Google to prioritize your request over the pending ones, you have to leverage SEM through paid advertisement. 5.3- SMM is Social Media Marketing SMM or Social Media Marketing refers to the marketing done through the various social media platforms listed above in 2.3. SEO is helpful not only for your Blog but for anything. Does this intrigue you a little? Use the contact form and reach out to me; I'll explain it. Anyway, so starting from web content to blog content, to content on social media platforms, SEO is a beast for the best everywhere. Good SEO punched with SEM, is a heady mix for SMM. For example, if you use any social media platform, borrow its pulse to tell a story that intelligently anchors your blog article, and also do a paid promotion, imagine the results. Can't you? It's going to be astounding, I say.

6. What Skills should a Content Writer have?

It is very evident that at this stage you got to be very careful with selecting your support system. Content writing has been downplayed for a very long time, but today it is everything. It starts from defining your products to wording your mission and vision to marketing your business. Selecting the right content writer is tougher than choosing a life partner, and I am not joking, mean 100% business. Content writing, I tell you, is playing the chess both as a player and the opponent. Anyway, it is essential to find a writer who can see thorough what your potential customer is seeking and then write accordingly to answer to that demand. Listen, everyone can read, write, and speak in English, not a big deal, at all. But, a successful writer is a salesperson under their skin; they should be able to pack your shit and sell it with a winning story. Excuse me, I know that is not shit, I am referring to the preparedness you should seek in a writer. :P In addition to all that, here are a few more to expect both from yourself and your potential content partner. A voracious reader (a reader is always learning) A thinker who can challenge practices (than lamely accepting conventions) Someone who has the guts to prove you wrong (yes, you should expect this) A person who advocates the romance of Content and SEO (with reasons backed by research) Someone nimble to switch from an ad copy to a 1500 word article to a whitepaper and back to writing kickass social media content (trust me, you aren't expecting too much) Someone who will take it on their stride to maintain a standard brand voice that's susceptible to the changes of the world and echoes empathy through Industry 4.0 jargons (of course, someone who doesn't have to use jargons for public display of intelligence. )

  7. What Kind of Resource Allocation and Budget is required to Start Digital Marketing?

You need an army of a minimum of six people to get started with your digital marketing for optimum results. You need a writer, a designer, an advertiser, an analyst, and a marketer, and someone to supervise them all and manage the projects. It is on you to believe that I am very considerate of the limited funds available to you as a startup. Organizations go on to hire entire agencies and at times, a couple of them for each of the above activities. I know that you are waiting to see that startling figure to jump off this article and think of alternatives immediately. Let me tell you that I am sorry if you think you can run your business without digital marketing as outlined in this article. So, what is your wild guess about how much you have to invest? Here, I turn the table and ask you to think about how much you would like to be paid for everything we have discussed so far? End of the day, this should be gainful, allow you to live a life of comfort and dignity, right? Well, that's how much you should be ready with, not a dime less or more. Okay, be honest when you play this card :) Just one more thing to keep in mind when you negotiate, you get as much as you invest it you get as much as you buy. Intrigued? Email me here, and I will explain Read the full article

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

Instagram verification will make you Public Enemy No. 1

This piece is part of an ongoing series exploring what it means to be a woman on the internet. 

In a folder on my phone called “PUBLIC FIGURE,” I save screenshots of some of the most outrageous messages strangers have sent me since I got verified on Instagram, primarily because I still can’t believe I get so many. There are dozens of DMs that demand to know “why tf” and “how tf” I got a little blue badge. 

People will scrawl “who are you lmao” under a bunch of my photos all at once, which is a singularly mortifying experience that has no equivalent on Twitter or Facebook, where my profiles also have blue ticks. On a few occasions, I’ve commented on a celebrity or brand’s post, then watched as the replies to my original comment devolve into a fight over whether a person can buy verification and, if so, whether that’s what I did. To be clear, I didn’t. I’m a journalist and was verified for my job. My profile is categorized under “Journalist” and a Story highlight full of screenshots of my work appears right at the top of my profile.

The messages are sorted into my “requests” folder but are often accompanied by a push notification telling me a user “wants to send [me] a message.” I always know what it will say before I even unlock my phone to check. By far the worst one came from a user who asked how to get a tick a few times and when I didn’t answer, viewed my Story, noticed I was watching Gossip Girl for the first time, and sent me a spiteful DM telling me who Gossip Girl was, spoiling the show. 

In receiving this unexpected aggression, anger, and attention, I’m not alone. Several women verified on Instagram told me similar stories — with their experiences ranging from annoying to creepy to scary. And yet, men in media who I spoke to about this phenomenon generally have positive feelings about Instagram since being verified. No, this isn’t representative of all men, but it’s been shown that women are twice as likely to face online harassment and the men I spoke to didn’t report, say, getting unsolicited dick pics at a higher rate.

The DMs I get may seem trivial compared to revenge porn or other online harassment people face daily, but my “PUBLIC FIGURE” folder has evolved from an uncomfortable joke to a museum dedicated to the hostility that manifests itself in various ways for women across the internet and in real life. The messages may not necessarily be dangerous, but other manifestations certainly are, which is why they’re all worth investigating.

According to Instagram, the checkmarks are designed simply to “help people more easily find the public figures, celebrities, and brands they want to follow,” but among users, they function more or less as a mysterious status symbol. The general assumption is that Instagram either confers a marking arbitrarily on accounts with thousands of followers or the people behind smaller accounts buy them.

How I got the tick

When my former boss asked me if I wanted my Instagram account submitted for verification, it never occurred to me the small marking would be controversial. All I felt was a little excitement, but I tried to be cool with my response. 

I probably said something like, “Yeah, that would be super funny,” which, two years later, it still totally is, even though the tiny tick has brought me an outsized amount of harassment.

I don’t really self-identify as a public figure, celebrity, or brand; I’m a young woman who works in media, which bizarrely qualifies me for the badge as much as it qualifies Oprah. If and when I use my account to reach out to sources or act on behalf of a media company, it needs to be clear I’m not bluffing. 

At present, I have about 2,600 followers. Similarly, 2,900 accounts follow my Twitter, which is also verified and is where I actually post my work, but I’ve never gotten any harassing messages about my verification on that platform. Twitter’s indefinite pause on verifying users may contribute to that — or perhaps, a Twitter verification doesn’t have the same weight as one from Instagram on the social media totem pole. At any rate, I’m expected to have a badge on the app where I share links to my articles, not on the one where I share pictures of my face. Getting Instagram verification almost felt subversive, if self-serving. 

It also felt surprisingly validating to meet the standards for obtaining something so ostensibly prestigious. The feelings of success and belonging would prove short-lived, but there was a part of me, at first, that saw the badge as a sign I’d somehow made it, at least in terms of an admittedly subjective importance.

Like I said, though, I wanted to seem aloof with my boss, not like I actually cared. Online, it often seems like sincerity is the enemy of prosperity, but the dirty little secret is that we all do care. That’s why I ended up saying I wanted to be on the verification list with the rest of my coworkers even though I knew my friends were going to make fun of me for taking myself so seriously. (And they do!)

I was expecting the attention and ribbing from my friends, but I wasn’t expecting the explosion of outrage from total strangers. As it turns out, there are people who care a lot about their online image and have no problem making it known they, too, want a checkmark, even if it’s obvious they don’t know what its purpose is.

The "public figure" folder

The proof is in the “PUBLIC FIGURE” folder.

I’ve fielded emails and text messages about the checkmark, which always feel invasive, because I have contact information available on the page since, well, the whole point of the verified profile is to enhance my ability to do my job. I don’t usually respond to the messages or comments, but when I do, I just write that I work in media and didn’t buy anything. “I’m sure you didn’t get yours the right way because you don’t have much fans,” someone wrote back once, which is a pretty common theme among the messages, although the moralistic resentment over “the right way” added a unique touch.

Notably, four guys I’ve gone out with have brought it up in person, each with a different combination of annoyance and awe. One of them was an aspiring entertainer with no concrete acting credits. He admitted to googling me before our date (which was both our first and last one), then indignantly told me that if either of us should be verified, it was him, the actor. Another also worked in media and was frustrated no one at his organization knew anyone at Facebook, Instagram’s parent company, who could make it happen for him. I sipped my drink. What am I supposed to say to that?

I reached out to the Gossip Girl spoiler, who is purportedly a British teen, for this piece and they agreed to chat, but quickly retracted the agreement when I asked about the whole show-spoiling thing. The user did tell me I could quote this: “When I sent them things it was a joke and I never thought you’d open them because of your tick.” 

SEE ALSO: Instagram's 'Hashtag Mindfulness' boom: The good, the bad, and the ugly

It’s not a joke, though, and if it were, it would be much less funny to the verified women I spoke to than the verified men. (Instagram declined to comment for this article, as did a few verified users claiming to be selling badges in the comments of celebrity posts.)

What about the others?

Andrew Kirell, the senior editor at The Daily Beast who has 755 Instagram followers, says he gets more spam messages, but not necessarily harassment. Jon Levine, The Wrap’s media editor who has 2,105, says his harassment has neither gone up nor down post-checkmarking. KHarlles, a recording artist with 3,178 followers, noted that there has been an increase in DMs inquiring how he got his badge, but largely, getting verified on Instagram “was very positive” and has been useful to his career.

Polly A., a verified musician with over 12,500 followers on the platform, however, doesn’t agree that the tick is useful in any way. She’s noticed “no effect” beyond “annoyed” messages from unverified users: “I guess the only thing I notice is that some people almost make you feel unworthy for having one if you’re not ‘famous.’”

When asked about any effect she’s seen since getting her checkmark, a female journalist with a little over 1,000 followers asked to remain anonymous (as did every woman in media contacted for this story, for fear of further harassment). Granted anonymity, she confided she’s seen a definite increase in not only the sort of spam reported by Kirell and KHarlles, but “weird guys” and “creepy messages” from men. The dick pics and “inappropriate comments” she described aren’t uncommon for any woman online, but the amount she receives tripled after she was verified on Instagram from one or two a month to five or six. 

A second woman in media whose follower count sits around 3,000 said she, too, got an “insane amount” of spam DMs from people who wanted to purchase her account, but those halted and gave way to a wave of men offering out-of-line opinions on her appearance. 

Another woman in media I spoke to declined verification altogether simply because getting it would have meant she would need to make her account public, which she was unwilling to do. 

All of this raises a question, of course: Is it worth it? For women, especially, is solidifying a brand or public position through the use of the app’s verification badges really worth it? 

For the most part, in spite of creepy messages and straight-up aggression, no one I spoke to, whether in entertainment or media, said they fully regretted getting the tick. Almost everyone mentioned a bump in engagement and, honestly, a little self-aware gloating among friends (along with the same roasting by those friends that I correctly anticipated, too).

Moreover, media women who have seen an increase in the receipt of creepy messages or unwelcome nudes noted that yes, their messages to potential sources get answered faster and more reliably than messages sent by unverified colleagues. Even with my relatively low following, I, too, noticed that when seeking out sources for this story and others, I got a solid response rate I just didn’t see before I got that badge. When it needs to, the checkmark does its job. It also happens to bring a lot of anger and dick pics with it.

Whether being verified is “worth it,” then, depends entirely on what “worth it” means to each individual. We already know women experience more harassment just for being Online While Female. The extra visibility of appearing at the top of comment sections or searches can only add to that.

One artist, Thea & The WIld, who has 2,545 followers, shared a particularly rosy outlook about her checkmark and whether getting it was worth it. “[W]hen I search for known people I want to follow, I obviously look for the verification sign to avoid ‘fake’ profiles and weird content,” she said. 

She’s received a few nice messages from fans, she added, and while she’s concerned overall about the general addictiveness and vapidness of social media, she still gleans a little joy from her badge, which is probably the attitude we should all try to have: “For me, I think it just felt positive and probably affected some dopamine in my brain when that tiny mark appeared.” 

If I could go back in time to the moment my former boss asked if I wanted to get verified, I’d probably still do it, too, even though I audibly groan whenever I get a push notification alerting me that someone I don’t know “wants to send me a message” on the app. After all, it does its job of identifying me as a legitimate, trustworthy professional, even though one user did rather unkindly (but fairly!) surmise I must not be “one of the better known” journalists after I commented on an influencer’s post. Like other women harassed online, I’ve embraced blocking and deleting and I can’t recommend it enough.

Maybe one day I’ll grow into my badge and have the kind of account that seems like it ought to have one to the average user, but I know if and when that happens, I’ll face harassment for something new, simply for being a woman on the internet. In the meantime, at the risk of committing the most grievous online sin and seeming like I care, I invite you to follow me on Instagram. I’m verified, you know!   

Lindsey Ellefson is a journalist who lives in New York. Find her on Twitter, @ellefs0n.

WATCH: Queen Elizabeth II posted on Instagram for the first time

[battleofthebits]

Won’t You Get Me Bodied

Check, Please! and Yuri!!! on Ice crossover fic. 4.2 K, minor Jack/Bitty and Victor/Yuuri. I promise there’s YoI characters despite the opening scene being 100% Check Please. Read it on Ao3 here. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh, my god.”

Jack stopped in the doorway and went through his mental tally of Reasons Bittle Is Having A Minor Breakdown. Bitty was hunched over his laptop, staring at it with awed disbelief, but — as Jack checked every month — there were no upcoming concerts or awards shows of the kind that usually merited this sort of a response. Bitty used his phone for email, so he couldn’t have gotten an offer to collab with anyone, and nobody had molested any of his pies recently.

That left only one tactic: direct questioning. “Is something wrong, Bits?” Jack asked, fully aware that if something important was going on, he would trigger another meltdown like the fiasco back in 2013.

“Wrong? Are you crazy?” Bittle said, catapulting up from the bed and shoving his laptop in Jack’s face.

The laptop, as far as Jack could tell, was showing nothing more important than some bird-boned ice dancers. “Uh?” Jack managed.

“Jack, Four Continents is in Boston this year!” Bitty said, in the exact same tone that he used when Beyonce did… well, anything… and the Great Phelps-Bittle Jam Feud was settled in Suzanne’s favor. Jack might have no idea what Four Continents was, or why it was so important to Bittle, but by God, he was going to learn.

“Sounds like it’s pretty important to you,” Jack said. Active listening; Lardo would be proud.

“It is, yeah. Do you know anybody who could get us tickets? I don’t wanna ask for much, but it used to be my dream to compete there, and it’s so close…”

“Yeah, definitely,” Jack said. “One of Dad’s friends’ wives is pretty pally with the ISU, and she should be able to hook us up.”

“And this friend’s wife wouldn’t happen to be an international figure skating champ you’ve never told me you know, would she?”

“A figure skating champion who can get you the tickets you want, Bits,” Jack said. “Maybe even rinkside.”

@omgcheckplease

OH MY GOD

8:23 PM · Jan 14, 2016

@omgcheckplease

SWEET MOTHER MARY FOUR CONTINENTS IS RIGHT NEXT DOOR

8:24 PM · Jan 14, 2016

@omgcheckplease

AND GUESS WHOSE AMAZING BOYFRIEND HAS TIX

8:47 PM · Jan 14, 2016

@omgcheckplease

I know, I have a French exam that Monday but WHATEVER I can do my homework in the Uber

8:47 PM · Jan 14, 2016

@omgcheckplease

And congrats to @leodelhielo on making it in! Us Southern boys gotta stick together!

8:49 PM · Jan 14, 2016

Leo made a habit of keeping up with his old competitors. Some people just faded out of the sport and didn’t do anything of note, but others went to college or pursued interesting careers. He figured it was a good way to get a look at his options post-figure skating, and besides, some of those guys had been cool. It was nice to keep in touch, or at least stalk their social media. He hadn’t been expecting a nostalgia follow to @ him, though.

He remembered following this account. He’d been Googling a list of boys who’d made it to regionals, and found not only a college and major but a Twitter, attached to one Eric Bittle. Leo dimly remembered him: won Southern Junior Regionals 2010, peppy as anything. The guy had brought tiny pies to the party afterwards, pissed off at least three skaters’ nutritionists, and then vanished from the sport despite what every announcer had said was astounding potential. And had apparently ended up in Boston, attached to a hockey team.

It couldn’t hurt to acknowledge an old acquaintance, and Leo didn’t have anybody managing his social media anyway. He dashed off a quick tweet.

@leodelhielo

@omgcheckplease thanks! we should totally catch up sometime.

9:17 PM · Jan 14, 2016

@omgcheckplease

Sweet! @leodelhielo I was actually planning a party that weekend, so…

9:21 PM · Jan 14, 2016

Jack heard a piercing screech from the kitchen and ran in to check that Bitty hadn’t gotten hurt and another surprise album hadn’t dropped. “What’s going on, bud?”

“Leo de la Iglesia just @-ed me. Leo de la Iglesia is in my DMs. Leo de la Iglesia thinks it would be totally swawesome to come to the Haus after Four Continents and bring his skater friends.” Bitty looked up from his phone with reverence in his eyes. “Jack. He used the word ‘swawesome.’”

“Sounds cool,” Jack offered.

“It is so not cool, Mister Zimmermann. I have to make plans! I have to figure out who all is coming, email their nutritionists so I can set up an appropriate menu, do a deep-clean of the Haus — what if one of them gets a virus from the couch? — and let the boys know to give them their privacy. There’s so much work to do, oh my god.”

“And you’ll love every minute of it.”

Agreeing to bring Leo’s friends to a college town forty minutes from the rink right after Four Continents was far more difficult than firing off a promise to do so. Seung-Gil hated loud noises, alcohol, and fun, so he was right out. Guang-hong might be down, but would be just about impossible to sneak into a frat party when he looked twelve on a good day. Otabek… was Otabek.  Leo was planning on asking JJ, because Leo was a nice person, dammit, but that invite might make the night sound more boring than JJ would ever stand for. Phichit would be much easier to lure in with the promise of a genuine American frat party. And if Leo played his cards right, and was very, very lucky, through persuading Phichit he might get to Yuuri.

Leo had seen rather too much of Yuuri with drunks, but he’d never actually seen Yuuri get hammered, and there were all kinds of rumors. Yuuri had reportedly barely touched the champagne at the GPF banquet this year, claiming he wanted to actually remember this night, thanks, which as far as Leo was concerned might as well be an invitation to get him blackout drunk. All he had to do was handle the situation with care.

Me

hey, you doing anything after Four Continents?

Phichit

not yet

you got any ideas?

Me

yeah, this guy I know from juniors lives in a frat house and makes amazing pie

he invited us all to dinner and a frat party

You in?

Phichit

you bet ur ass I am

Me

sweet, can you bring yuuri with you?

Phichit

uhhhhh

maybe

Me

think about it

this is a chance to get him totally wasted

see if the rumors are true

*and* get photographic evidence

all for the cost of an Uber to Samwell

Phichit

well when you put it like that

I’ll see what I can do

Yuuri had no idea why he was here. Getting his first real gold of the year had felt pretty nice, but after the win all he’d wanted to do was cuddle with his fiancé. Instead, Hurricane Phichit had burst into his room, said only, “Yuuri! We’re headed out in ten minutes! Grab your best party outfit!” and dragged him into an Uber while Victor was distracted by a crowd of fans. Apparently there was some kind of party, somewhere, and Phichit’s radar for a good, Yuuri-embarrassing time was just as strong as it had been in Detroit.

“Don’t you have a leg injury?” Yuuri asked.

“A of all, this sprain has been healing for a week; second of B, I just won bronze with it; and thirdly, you don’t need your legs when you’re doing a kegstand,” Phichit grinned.

Yuuri was doomed.

The house was… well. Yuuri would have liked to say it was nice enough, but that would have been a lie against God and architecture. It looked, frankly, like a crack den. With very spiffy curtains. “You’re sure this is the place?”

“Yeah, number 151.” Phichit carefully did not hobble up to the door.

A tall guy with a bemused look on his face was sitting on a chair on the roof above the porch. “Bitty!” he yelled into the house. “There’s more short guys showing up! Did you invite a gymnastics team over?”

A blond a little taller than Phichit opened the door in oven mitts. “Hi there,” he said, “ignore Tango, he’s, uh, special. Everyone else is ready to eat, unless JJ shows up out of the blue, and I’ve been instructed not to tweet about this party until Uber rush pricing starts, so that’s not very likely.”

“Uh, thanks?” Yuuri said.

“No problem! We’ve had some problems in the past with big personalities ruining the ambience, and I wouldn’t want that to happen tonight. Now, I’ve stuck to healthier food than I normally would, so you don’t have to worry too much about portion control. After dinner, we’re going to be pre-gaming and setting up for about an hour, and then the full-on kegster starts. No judgement if either of you want to leave before then. Any questions?”

“You’re Eric, right?” Phichit asked. “The guy Leo knew from Juniors?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” said Eric. “Yeah, that’s my name, but you can call me Bitty; everyone does around here. Pleased to meet you two!”

Bitty led them inside to a veritable buffet line and half of the men’s singles competitors, along with a decent number of jocks and, inexplicably, a tiny Southeast Asian girl. He introduced Phichit and Yuuri to his teammates, but the names were indistinguishable: everyone was called something random like Birker or Dexy.

“I know,” said a tall Black guy with killer cheekbones, “we’ve all got weird nicknames. It’s all a long and storied hockey tradition, like weird pre-game superstitions or everyone hating the Flyers.” And then he and a loud, blond, giant white guy launched a full-on Powerpoint presentation about the history of hockey names and how to make your own.

“So my hockey name would be what, Chiter?” Phichit asked, when he thought he had the hang of it.

Some dude with a mustache stared into his soul for a second and said,“Bruh, no. Cheetah.”

“Yeah, figure skaters are speedy little fuckers, right?” Loud Guy said around a mouthful of chicken breast. “Bitty beats everyone in suicides. Now, the rest of you guys gotta make your own nicknames, Shitty’s genius won’t stick around. Do your names sound like anything cool in your own language? Animals or weapons or something?”

“Oh my god,” Phichit said. “Yuuri. Katsudon. Plisetsky was right about you all along!” Yuuri was flailing and making the usual panicky noises that indicated Phichit was onto something.

“That’s not really—” Yuuri started to say, but Phichit interrupted him.

“Katsudon and Cheetah,” he mused. “Cheetah and Katsudon.” It was only natural at that point to force Yuuri into a selfie, captioned, “Me and katsukiyuuri at an #Epikegster pregame! #cheetah #katsudon #nameamoreepicduo #illwait #hockeynicknames #makeyourown!”  

After the last bite of souffle had been eaten — “don’t worry,” Eric had said, “they’re actually pretty low in sugar and you get a ton of protein!” ― and the dishes had been heaped in the sink to ignore, the older jocks and the tiny girl went out to grab beer and… well, nobody was sure what Tiny Girl was up to, but it had something to do with pregaming.

“Okay,” Loud Guy said, after Tiny Girl returned with a projector from somewhere and the skaters had been assembled on a revoltingly filthy green couch. “In honor of Cheetah, here, who says he’s seen every figure skating movie ever made but never fucking got to Blades of Glory—”

“Like you’ve ever seen Shall We Skate?” Phichit fired back.

“Dude,” said Cheekbones, “that movie’s in Thai and Holtzy can barely manage English.”

“What, and subtitles aren’t a thing in America?”

“We are doing a very special pregame today,” Mustache said, barrelling over the incipient movie argument. “The Blades of Glory drinking game: drink every time Chazz and Jimmy get in a fight, every time Chazz mentions his sex addiction, and every time figure skating just doesn’t work like that. Two drinks for every outdated cringey gay joke, and finish your drink every time the parents’ death gets mentioned. If we notice any slow-sipping, you’ll have to finish your drink on the spot. Ready?”

“How many lines am I gonna be able to quote out of context and embarrass Yuuri?” Phichit asked.

“He’s skating with another dude in exhibitions, right? Started in Detroit?” Loud Guy said.

“Yup.”

“Oh, around half the movie.”

And Loud Guy was right. Phichit ended up elbowing Yuuri when the announcers talked about Chazz’ upbringing in Detroit’s sewer skating scene, groaning at the hideous excuses for choreography, and whispering, “Look, it’s you and Yurio! He’s even got the haircut!” every time Jimmy and Chazz laid into each other. By the time the Iron Lotus subplot came up, he was buzzed enough to genuinely consider the physics of a bullshit movie-magic pairs skating move.

“I don’t think they would actually have been able to cut her head off,” Phichit said to nobody in particular. “Cut her throat, yeah, but there’s not enough momentum to cut through the spine. What do you think, Yuuri?” he asked, and turned to his friend, who was looking a little green.

“I think I’m gonna help the jocks set up,” Yuuri said, and fled the room.

Different strokes for different folks, Phichit figured, and took another drink— Chazz and Jimmy were fighting again.

It didn’t take long after that for the kegster to start in earnest. Students filed into the house, Loud Guy and Cheekbones brought in a keg, and before Phichit knew it, D.R.A.M. was blaring at full volume. But as Phichit got his ass kicked at flip cup, he couldn’t help but wonder where Yuuri had gone off to.

It wasn’t that Yuuri was having a bad night. Everyone was incredibly friendly and it barely mattered that he couldn’t socialize when the entire point of the night was getting hammered in creative ways. He didn’t so much greet people as slide between different drinking games. But an hour or so later and five drinks in, he was beginning to question the contents of whatever “tub juice” was.

He shambled towards the kitchen — which was blocked off with CAUTION tape and a sign reading “absolutely NO puking on appliances- ERB” — and found that somebody else had had the same idea. Somebody else looked a little like a much taller and ripped JJ, and was sitting at the table contemplating a can of root beer. Yuuri took a sip of the tub juice and tried to look as if he were neither drunk off his ass nor interested in conversation.

A few moments passed in mutually-appreciated silence.

“It’s a lot sometimes, isn’t it?” Root Beer Guy said, finally. “All the people and the socializing, and the compulsory drinking.”

“It’s not like I mind all that much,” Yuuri said. “The drinking helps with the people.”

“You’re one of the figure skaters Bittle invited, right? Katsuki?”

“The captains told me I’m supposed to call myself Katsudon now, but yeah.”

“They would. Well, I heard from Bittle that one of the reasons your friends wanted you to come tonight is to get you black-out wasted. Apparently they want to take pictures, maybe put a video on Youtube. You weren’t in on this, I’m guessing?”

“Oh God no.”

Root Beer Guy sighed. “That’s what I thought. Well, Shits is always going on about how the Haus is supposed to be a safer space, and we have to be part of consent culture and everything. I guess part of that is not forcing booze down people’s throats. Anyone tries to get you to drink when you aren’t feeling it, I’ll be here with my root beer.”

“Thanks, I guess? But I’m pretty awful at interacting without getting drunk.”

“Fair. One thing, though. You might wanna lay off the tub juice, that stuff’s basically Hi-C and Everclear.”

Yuuri squinted at his cup’s contents. “Really? I’m on my third cup and it doesn’t seem like it’s doing anything.”

“If tub juice doesn’t get you drunk, nothing will,” said Root Beer Guy. “Just keep it in mind, eh? I’d be a shitty ex-captain if I let guests get forced into situations they weren’t comfortable with.”

“I guess I will,” Yuuri said, and made his way out of the room. If tub juice wasn’t working for him, maybe beer would.

Phichit was having the time of his life. The music was pounding, his friends were dancing, and two gorgeous hockey players were helping him out of a kegstand. “Alright,” said Cheekbones, “pong table’s open! You got a partner?”

“Sure,” Phichit said. “Anybody know where Yuuri is?”

“Cute Japanese kid? Just came out of the kitchen with Jack,” Tiny Girl said from the table. “You sure you want to go with him? He looks pretty sloshed.”

“Dude, Yuuri is the best pong partner. He’s, like, a Hoover for booze and he never loses his coordination. He’s a freak of nature or something.”

“Your funeral,” said Tiny Girl. “Now, Haus rules are as follows. No smacking the ball away if it bounces, blowing and fingering are forbidden, and shots before the last cup are mandatory. Got it?”

“Yeah, but are we playing singles or doubles?” Phichit asked.

“Two of you, one of me,” Tiny Girl grinned. “If I can handle Kent Parson and half the Falconers, I can take a couple figure skaters.”

Yuuri wandered over, finished his cup of tub juice, and the game began. In short order, Tiny Girl had changed her tune.

“Aight, that’s a bounce off the ceiling, you drink four cups,” she said, and then, “The fuck, Katsuki? You’re allowed to alternate those, you’ve already been drinking half of Cheetah’s.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Yuuri said, and chugged all of them. “Phichit’s got the alcohol tolerance of one of his hamsters, we’ve been playing pong like this for years. We end up equally wasted, so it’s not like I’m cheating.”

The game went on like that for a while, Yuuri and Tiny Girl landing all their shots, to the point where Phichit ducked out in favor of filming the legend unfolding in front of him. Finally, Tiny Girl and Yuuri had one cup left each. It was Yuuri’s turn. Somehow he managed to down the shot and bounce the ball into Tiny Girl's cup at the very edge of the table, and the room exploded.

“Holy shit!” Loud Guy said, “somebody just fucking beat Lardo at pong.”

“Barely,” Yuuri said, somehow managing to be self-defeating and plastered at the same time.

"Are you kidding me?" Mustache chipped in. "I never thought I'd see the goddamn day."

“His aim gets better when he gets drunker,” Phichit said. “I tried to warn you.”

“I’m still the undisputed Haus flip-cup champ,” said Tiny Girl.

“Really? Let’s see about that,” Yuuri said. Drunk Yuuri was finally coming out of his modest megane shell, and Phichit was going to be around to film every second.

“Hey,” Guang-hong asked Phichit around 1 AM, “has anybody seen Leo around?”

“I lost track of him after they started playing “Vivir Mi Vida” and he freaked out,” Phichit said. “How come?”

“Eric’s totally wasted and we need a translator.”

Phichit thought for a second. “From English? We’re using English right now.”

“No,” Guang-hong said, “from Southerner. He’s slurring all his words and allergic to consonants and the last phrase I heard from him was ‘Y’all boutta git sum.’ Leo’s from Houston, he knows that accent.”

“She like music, she from Houuu-ston, like Auntie Yonce,” a familiar voice warbled from Phichit’s seven. He reached out and grabbed Leo from the mass of partiers around them.

“Leo,” Guang-hong said with a valiant attempt at sobriety, “we need you to translate what Bitty’s saying. He’s getting up in Yuuri’s face and I just heard him saying everyone was gonna get something.”

“We don’t need to worry about a fight, Yuuri’s not a fighty drunk,” Phichit added, “but he might cry all over the host and that would just be embarrassing for everyone.”

Leo squinted at Phichit as if his eyes weren’t quite focusing right. “Wouldn’t you want that?” he asked. “You could film it and add it to your Yuuri Blackmail Stash.”

“It’s not a blackmail stash, it’s just a thing friends— look, we don’t have time for this!”

“Aight,” Leo said, “lemme at ‘im and I’ll do my best.”

They elbowed their way over to the circle of onlookers surrounding a slurring Bittle and confused Yuuri, both drunk off their asses. “Aintcha never done no dance-offs b’fore?” Eric said.

“Have you ever been in a dance-off?” Leo translated, enunciating carefully and swaying slightly.

“‘S rumors. Like, tons of ‘em, ‘n’ all of ‘em gotcha winnin’ ‘gainst some miiiiiiighty tough competition,” Eric continued.

“Many rumors claim that you’ve won previous dance-offs against very tough opponents,” said Leo, deadpan.

“An’ I’m thinkin’, how ‘bout it, huh? You an’ me, here ‘n’ now, mano a mano,” Eric concluded.

“And I think we should have a dance-off here and now,” Leo said.

Yuuri blinked. “Thass wha’ he’s sayin’?” he asked. Drunk Yuuri was its own dialect, heavy with slurs and sobbing and the Saga-Ben he never quite scrubbed from his accent. Luckily, Phichit was fluent.

“Yep,” he confirmed. “You down?”

It was a foregone conclusion; between the tub juice and the pong and the kegstands, Yuuri was a good eight drinks in, and eight-drinks Yuuri was a walking bad decision. “Am I down?” Yuuri said, looking like he was about to laugh, or maybe fall over. “Phichit, ‘m a gold medalist, gonna kick ass at Worlds. I think I can take an American who doesn’ even know how t’ breakdance.”

“Famous last words, buddy,” Phichit said, but he stepped back. If this disaster happened, somebody had better preserve it for posterity, and that somebody was going to be him.

“Hey, Cheetah!” Eric hollered, and hurled his phone at Phichit. “Use my phone, I gotta Youtube channel that’s gonna wanna see this.”

The phone was already set to record, so Phichit had nothing to do but stand in a clear spot, press a button, and hold on for the ride.

“Get Me Bodied” blasted through the speakers and Phichit had no adequate words to describe what came next. There was quite a bit of breakdancing on Yuuri’s part— Phichit thought he could recognize that K-kick from the banquet photos— and Eric was shaking his ass like the world was ending and twirling around like a bizarre headbanging ballerina. Between the two of them, Phichit thought they’d used a bit of every kind of dance Phichit knew, and a few he didn’t. As the music ended, Eric came out of a giant spin and… fell? On purpose? He didn’t look hurt, and it had been timed to the music, so probably it was deliberate.

“That’s a death drop, what Bittle ended with. Although I don’t know what you call the spin he did going into it,” said Otabek from behind Phichit’s shoulder, and since when had Otabek even been at this party?

“I’ve been here all night, you just haven’t noticed because I’m not a rowdy drunk like some people,” Otabek said. “I DJ on the side, and there’s always somebody asking for the latest American hits. I figured it would be field research.”

“Okay,” said Yuuri from where he was draped against the banister, “so who won?”

Phichit pressed STOP and the recording cut out. “Everybody who just witnessed that. Maaaybe Eric, by a tiny margin? But most of all, Eric’s twitter followers,” he said, and uploaded the video.

“I’m so gonna regret that tomorrow,” Eric said, accepting a bottle of water from his boyfriend.

“I’m regretting it already,” Yuuri said. As Yuuri was tragically boyfriend-less until Victor tracked them down, Phichit grabbed some water for him.

“But oh my god, Eric, that move you did at the end? You have to teach us!” Guang-hong piped up.

“Yeah,” Phichit chirped, “Yuuri can fall on purpose for once.”

“I really hate you sometimes, Phichit, “ said Yuuri.

“Hate me later, it’s time for a podium selfie!” Phichit said, throwing Eric’s phone back to him.

Eric carefully took a photo with Yuuri, and Phichit wrote the caption for him: “4CC gold medalist katsukiyuuri and the reigning Haus Dance-Off Champion! #Epikegster #danceoffroyalty #yourfavescouldnever” The party wound down after that, and around 2 AM everybody headed back to their hotels after extracting a deal: Eric would teach them how to do a death drop someday if Yuuri helped him land a quad loop.

Bitty woke up in the middle of the night with an enormous headache, aching joints, and several thousand new followers. His phone had apparently alerted him to all of them at once, and didn’t stop buzzing for the five minutes it took Bitty to scroll to the source of the problem. Sure, the dance-off video accounted for his new Twitter followers, but why on earth was his Instagram blowing up?

And then he saw the selfie, and more importantly, the top comment.

“Jack. Jack, if you love me at all, you have to see this.”

“Bits, it’s four in the morning.”

“Look at this. Look at it. Viktor. Nikiforov. Just. Liked. My. Photo. He complimented my selfie prowess, Jack!”

“...Who?”

“I’m divorcing you.”

“We’re not even engaged!”

[theteenagesapper]

My struggles with self confidence and my decision to do Medicine.

When I was little, I always had a new aspiration or dream job that I became obsessed with; things like Paleontology, Geology, Marine Biology and even at that age, Medicine. When I said I wanted to be a Doctor, I never once doubted myself or my intellect, and I whole-heartedly believed everything my teachers and my parents said about me - that I was gifted and that the world was my oyster, that one day I would change the world and do something incredible. I felt that I could take on anything, explore new heights and do whatever I put my mind to. But at some point, this all changed. At some point, I began putting myself down and shunning myself for ever believing I was ‘bright’ in the first place. A good grade or piece of homework wasn’t something to be proud about, it became an ‘easy test for everyone’, and another few points off of perfection. My 60% in Maths became a fail, even though it was a grade 6 and I had only just started my GCSEs. My 8 in Biology ‘could be better’. Despite the selfishness of such a thought, I wish I could blame these feelings on someone; take the responsibility of my low self esteem off my shoulders, so that I wouldn’t have to explain why I cringe away from compliments and argue back whenever someone close to me calls me clever. It may seem unfounded, and irritating, and even selfish, but the low self esteem I’ve struggled with is the reason I’m writing this post. No one especially has to read it, because to me this is an act of catharsis, a way to figure out my feelings and document my progressions.

...Over the past couple of years, I seem to have lost direction; lost my motivation for the subjects I love and lost the childish dream of changing the world. I lost my confidence, I lost my plans and more than anything I felt that this planet had nothing to offer me. I still got good grades in all my subjects and my scholarship to my school didn’t get taken away due to lack of motivation (I’ve decided to go to a different sixth form now, but it’s for different reasons), but it all felt monotonous, lackluster, missing something that education used to have when I was younger. Whenever I thought of pursuing careers that have always enraptured me, I put myself down for even thinking I could achieve something like that - told myself I wasn’t good enough for such an intensive subject. 

‘You’d fall off the wagon the first year of med school’. 

‘That 7 you have in Maths isn’t good enough. [Insert person] is so much better than me’. 

‘No one would ever let me into the course’. 

‘My scholarship was a one off, and it’s a pure fluke that I’m still achieving high grades’. 

I would criticize myself endlessly, to the point where my self-confidence couldn’t even come up for air before being pushed back under the water to drown. The question we all dread, ‘What do you want to do when you’re older?’ became a death wish for me. I think, as of now, I’ve changed my A-Level options 6 times, because up until recently, I had such a lack of direction that making a simple decision about my future became a cause of much anxiety, where to most people I knew, it was just the next step in reaching the goal they’d had in mind for the past years. (At this point I should probably clarify that I went to a private school, and I understand that a lot of my experience with competitiveness and pushy parents would not be seen so much in comprehensives.) I didn’t know whether I wanted to go into humanities, go into STEM, hell- at numerous points I even considered focusing on my Art and doing a bloody art degree. I’d never even really thought of doing Medicine seriously until maybe 2 years ago.

At the beginning of Year 10, we had to do a test which sorted us into personality groups, decided aptitudes in different skills and in the end gave us a ‘perfect job’ which was supposed to fit all of those categories. You can probably guess what came up as my perfect job, and you’d be right. Bam, right at the top of the test results, ‘Medicine: Doctor and Consultancy’, written in some professional looking font. I remember scoffing, ‘They must have gotten something wrong. Medicine? Me? I’d never be cut out for that’. It was a laugh that stemmed from my deep-rooted insecurities, I’m sure even at that point I felt drawn to it, but admitting that to myself whilst surrounded by a room of 20 other peers was too daunting. It was only when I walked home in the cold, and had some time to think, that something started to shift in my head. I thought that maybe I could do it, and maybe my teachers weren’t just mistaking me for someone more intelligent than I really am. A few more minutes of thinking, and the idea of it all just seemed to grow on me. Because hadn’t medicine been the thing I’ve always wanted to do? Deep down? Isn’t it a career which would tick every box that I had when it comes to my future? Hard hours yes. Years of stress with minimal holidays and low wages for the junior and HSO years? Definitely. But beyond all that, it seemed something I’d love to do, something I could devote my life to. I’ve always sought out something which would give me meaning and something to motivate me to wake up every morning, and maybe this job could finally be something which would give me that. So following that, I reshuffled something in my mind and told my parents I think I’d like to do medicine. A tall order from a (slightly) littler me. 

I emailed my chemistry teacher, asking whether he thought I had the potential to do medicine and get the grades I needed in his subject. At this point I’d convinced myself I was absolutely godawful at chem, so it came as a shock when he said he thought I was perfectly capable, and that he’d look forward to teaching me if I decided it was what I really wanted to do. I remember feeling slightly ill; overwhelmed by what I was getting myself into, sickened by my low self confidence and the assumption that I would fall at the very first hurdle. Pretty sure I cried an absurd amount that first week of deciding that medicine is what I wanted to do, purely due to the constant to and fro between my thoughts. Was I good enough for it? Would I fail? Is this even a job I want to commit myself to? To cut a long story short, because this whole blog is going to be full of teen angst, and I want to talk about now-me, not past-me, sorry little me, I freaked myself out after putting way too much my already fragile ego and decided to put it all behind me and just find something ‘more achievable’ to study. Now we queue the next 2 years of me going back to Medicine before going down the rabbit hole of self doubt and checking myself out before I could even commit properly. My substitution for Medicine was Environmental Sciences or Anthropology, which I am still interested in, but don’t see myself doing a lifetime of research in them without getting bored and lost in what I could have done and what I could be doing instead. 

But I promise this time it’s different. I’ve thought long and hard, I’ve ran over my options time and time again and this still seems like the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted to do. Studying pure subjects seems dull and meaningless, doing other practical subjects like Art seems somehow hollow in the modern world, all about money and full of unfair sales and real, credible artists left behind in the dirt without any recognition. But Medicine, that’s something real. It’s helping people and supporting a cause which I’ve always been so passionate about. It’s getting up at the crack of dawn but still going to work, because you know at the end of the day it’s all for a reason. I’m fully aware the system in the UK is at breaking point; beds are full, the staff are over worked and underpaid, the government seems to undermine doctors at every turn. I’m also fully aware of the stresses and struggles I will be bound to face if I go through with this dream of mine. I’ve read books, I’ve read countless blogs and accounts of front line doctors, I’ve talked to people in my own family who have bene through the rigour of working as a doctor, in one case all the way up to consultancy. But despite all of this, I still want to do it. I keep coming back to this job, this career, this path. Everybody I know believes in me, so maybe it’s time to start believing in myself too. I’m not saying that I won’t feel low and down about myself anymore, because I will, and I still haven’t got over my bouts of depression and low mood. Perhaps I never will. But I still think I should go for it, stop thinking of Med school as a pipe dream and instead think of it as a potential reality - seeing as I work hard enough and dedicate these two years to the cause. This is what this blog will hopefully sum up: my struggles, my dreams, and ultimately my journey from GCSEs and all the way to university. 

[cameronwjones]

2019 Event Trends Webinar: Recap

  Discover what leading marketers from INBOUND and SEMrush are planning and predicting for 2019. Watch the video preview and check out the highlights.

In January, we discussed the future of events with Elijah from INBOUND and Aleksandra from SEMrush. During the discussion we covered:

The Power of Events

Event ROI 

Event Technology

Email Marketing 

The Biggest Trends of 2019

Check out the highlights below. You can also watch the 2019 Event Trends video for the full discussion. 

Meet the Panelists

Aleksandra Panyukhina, Head of Event Marketing, SEMrush

Aleksandra manages everything from budgeting to reporting for SEMrush’s event marketing strategy. She managed over 35 events across five continents in 2018. This year, she’ll be producing SEMrush’s first user conference.

Elijah Clark-Ginsberg, Senior Event Manager, INBOUND

Elijah is the Senior Event Manager at INBOUND—an annual gathering of 24,000+ attendees from across the world. Over the year’s, Elijah has worn many hats at INBOUND. Today, he oversees experience, attendee communications, and technology partnerships.

  The Power of Events 

Q: Most respondents indicated that live events are the most important channel for achieving business outcomes. Obviously, you both are involved in events and so might be a little bit biased, but how do you see events serving your organization’s larger business outcomes in 2019?

ELIJAH: Yeah, I see events just as an immensely powerful brand-building tool. I think today, more so than ever, consumers, everyone are so busy and attention is so divided and pulled just everything go which way, so to even get someone's attention to read a blog post or watch a three minute video can sometimes feel like a huge win.

So the idea that someone is willing to come and spend a few days, fully immersed in your brand and the experience that you built, that is such an enormous gift and opportunity for a marketer. That to me, I think is really where the opportunity and where the value of events lies, for the most part.

ALEKSANDRA: Yeah, I totally agree. When you have a person at an event, that's when you're getting pretty much 100% of their attention. Obviously events can serve different business goals, and it's very important to align your event strategy with them. The main value of events that I personally see—and that we pursue at SEMrush—is building a personal and emotional connection between your customer and brand. In doing so, the relationship becomes something bigger.

Event Community

Q: Now, almost all respondents from Bizzabo’s 2019 Event Benchmarks Report indicated that events provide attendees with the opportunity to form connections in an increasingly digital world. Do you organize events with the intention of building communities? If so how?

ELIJAH: One of the things that we know, attendees find so valuable about INBOUND, I think events in general is those peer to peer connections, and the sense that you've kind of found your people and that you're among your flock.

Often people will tell us like, "Hey, I am the only marketer at my company and I feel so alone normally at work. It's amazing to come here and realize that there's other people that nerd out about the same things that I do and struggle with the same things and that also have dreams about SEO and like, I don't feel like a crazy weirdo anymore.

I think that is something that people find super, super validating and super, super valuable from at any event, I think like you said INBOUND is also a huge event and it gets a little challenging at our scale.

I think we really need to do a better job of engaging those people who are more introverted, are more shy or just don't like that kind of situation and help them find ways to find their flock and connect with people in this enormous crowd of people who have a lot of value to get them.

Event ROI

Q: The majority of company leaders (VPs and C-suite) who responded to the survey indicated that they believe events are a crucial component of their organization’s success. Good news, right? However, these leaders were 28% more likely to support event teams who were able to prove event ROI, meaning that those who couldn’t prove ROI were missing out. In your experience does that ring true? How do you win support from company leadership for your event strategy? Going into 2019, how do you plan on measuring ROI?

ALEKSANDRA: At the end of the day, when it comes to the business side of things, it's the ROI that matters and the ability to prove that this specific channel [events] is profitable for this specific company. This is where many event professionals face some challenges and difficulties. I can say I also belong to this group. Through experience, you get more and more understanding and more and more tactics on how to measure

One is cash flow, and that is where you should show that an event can be a self-sufficient channel. Where we show that an event can cover all of the investments and also bring profits. Community building is something that is harder to measure, however, it's really important to find how personal offline connections have had their impact on the business and online visibility for their own. Then, also brand awareness.

Q: We found that organizations that use event technology are 24% more likely to prove event ROI than organizations that do not. And (surprise, surprise) top-performing organizations are 1.6x more likely to use event technology. Now, you two work for organizations that are clearly top-performers and I know that you use event technology...So how does event technology help you prove event ROI?

ELIJAH: We're not necessarily interested in using event technology to prove INBOUND ROI to a higher order of business but what we're really interested in is using it to improve INBOUND as its own business and to make INBOUND marketing really effective to make essentially the product that we're offering, which is content the best it can be.

So everything from if we're to use tracking codes to evaluate the effectiveness of the paid advertising we're doing, to being able to look at attendee data and survey responses and figure out which content our attendees are really responding well to and what kind of content we need to lean into in future years, and where we should put more of our energy in terms of cultivating speakers and building out track areas and going after that kind of audience. All that stuff is very data-driven and very enabled by the technology that we use.

ALEKSANDRA: Technology helps us in two ways, there's the indirect impact, where event technology actually helps you improve customer experience before the event happens. For instance, technology can provide an east registration process, with a very clear understanding of what is going to happen, and the communication before the events where the attendee is able to kind of adjust to personal preferences.

That has an indirect impact because the attendee that is satisfied with this process before the event is more likely to actually attend the event and to be receptive to the experience that you've planned for them. Then of course there are the technologies that helps us prove event ROI directly—where we can actually follow what was happening with the lead afterwards, what was the lead journey and then use event technology to provide a personalized follow-up and provide specific content that would be of interest to a particular attendee.

Personalization

Q: Aleksandra, you recently mentioned that “segmenting and hyper-targeting events to very specific audiences” is going to be a big trend that SEMrush will be pursuing in 2019. Could you tell us a little about the why and how behind this shift toward personalization?

ALEKSANDRA: Yeah, absolutely. First of all, we think about our attendees. We know that their time is limited, and they will only come to the events if it is tailored to their needs. So the person that was happy to attend one type of event a year ago, is not at the same point right now of interacting with your brand within their professional career.

Another reason why segmenting and hyper-targeting is important for us is that our product is growing and SEMrush is good for any digital marketing professional. You can do SEO or you can be content marketer. However you won't benefit from the same events if you do specialize in SEO or if you do paid advertising.

Email Marketing

Q: Elijah, you’ve mentioned that email has been huge in the past—particularly when tied to special offers, increasing prices and the “halo effect” of having a strong brand. Do you foresee email being a key channel for promoting INBOUND in 2019 and beyond? Are there any other channels that you think will become more important in the coming years?

ELIJAH: Yes. Definitely my experience mirrors what you've seen in the survey, that email really is kind of the channel to beat in terms of event marketing. I think people often don't think about event ticket sales as an e-commerce buying process, even though it really is. And I think throughout the entire e-commerce space, we still see email as incredibly dominant as a promotional force.

Event Trends

Q: What are some other trends that you think event organizers should keep in mind for 2019?

ELIJAH: Yeah, I think definitely a huge kind of ongoing focus in my role is around how we bring essentially consumer grade technology to events. I think that's often looked at as kind of the gold standard in technology. People think B2B technology is kind of antiquated and stodgy and like a real pain in the ass to use. And they look a B2C technology and they're like, "Oh, it's so nice. Look how fresh Dropbox is," and that's where everyone wants to be.

Really what we want to do is use technology in similar ways that, everything from airlines and hotels, to shopping malls to dating sites is doing so. That's really the bar that attendees hold everything to, and we want to make sure that we're living up to that bar.

ALEKSANDRA: What I see in the events industry is that the number of events is growing. Every other day there is an event almost on the same topic happening and only the organizers that follow the latest trends around event disruption are going to win. So creating unique concepts for each of your events and never following patterns, always experimenting and adding something new for the experience.

That's it for this recap. Watch the webinar to get the full conversation. 

  from Cameron Jones Updates https://blog.bizzabo.com/2019-event-trends-webinar-recap