#ephemeral files;; musings

[haikkun]

Struck

One bottle of wine in

and I can FINALLY SPEAK MY MIND

my lips are numb though

whoops, we’ll have to

edit all those points

File the canines

Divine their

Body language

Anodyne

Discretely walk away

Then pretend we said it

First

Consign the co-signed in

Our lunar charts

I would worship a whip

If it brought down the house

Brang down the zodiac

Brang down the stellar hearts

And packed them in this subtle hearse

Who else will write

A eulogy for the stars

If not the ephemeral Love

Attuned to

Muse’s glory

_____________________________

Maureen Armstrong @haikkun

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted on Tuesdays.

Interview with Gwinne

Gwinne has 16 stories at Gossamer, most of which you can also find at AO3 along with some later, revival-era fics. If you haven’t read her fics, you are in for a treat. Her Scully is particularly endearing in many fics dealing with her pregnancy or William in some way. Big thanks to Gwinne for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I will say I was surprised by the phenomenon of all the reboot TV shows in general, and the revival of TXF specifically.  But, no, it doesn’t surprise me that late 90s/00s fanfic is still being read with the resurrection of those shows.  I am curious—though I know little about—the relationship between the fics posted during the original run and more recently.  To what extent are the authors from back then involved in fandom now?  This interview project is exciting to me for that reason as a way to bridge generations of writers.  I think reposting older stories on AO3 is another way to do that work.  Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)? I remember finding an early fanfic right after Fight the Future, in the summer of 1998.  It was a piece about Diana Fowley that was otherwise unremarkable.  I honestly don’t know how/where I stumbled across it, as I hadn’t heard of the term ‘fan fiction’ until then (I also realized I’d written fan fiction even as a kid, based on Little House on the Prairie!)  But shortly thereafter, I found an X-files yahoo group and then Scullyfic (later “E-muse”), as well as the Ephemeral and Gossamer sites.  Those were the primary ways in which I interacted with other fans and fanfiction.  At some point I started reading academic writing about fan culture, like Henry Jenkins’ work.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general? Scullyfic provided a community of like-minded women for me during a tumultuous time in my life, as I was finishing up graduate school, applying for jobs, and contemplating my own path toward motherhood; Scullyfic was friendly but also highly analytical, with weekly prompts and posts about episodes (around season 7 and 8).  After years of needing to go to campus to check email, I had just gotten dial up internet in my apartment and I remember reading the Scullyfic listserv almost daily.  Some friendships migrated from that space to email, IM, and even “real life,” though I’ve subsequently lost touch with almost everyone from that time. 

In that era (say, 2000-2002) I read voluminous amounts of fanfic.  It was my major source of reading for pleasure.  I’m a writer by training but didn’t have much experience in fiction; writing fic helped develop that skill set in a relatively ‘safe’ (because anonymous) space. What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

The one word answer:  Scully!

The longer answer:  I came to The X-Files midway through the original run.  I was a senior in college when the series began, and my roommate had turned on the pilot; I remember watching the opening sequence and the show feeling like some bad “based on real life” thing I had no interest in.  But I started watching regularly during the cancer arc in Season 4, with some friends from my graduate program who got together for dinner and an episode on Sunday nights.  One of the first episodes I watched was “Leonard Betts,” which exemplified the best of the episodes in which a MOTW and character-driven episode come together.  Local TV stations also aired reruns at various times, and some of the VHS compilations were available at Blockbuster (wow, haven’t thought about that in a while!), so my early viewings were out of order and mixed up.  (The myth arc is even more confusing that way.)  Eventually (late 2000?) I got a DVD player and the DVDs (which, yes, I still have) and watched in order.  I think I’m an atypical fan in many ways, but I much prefer seasons 4-7 to the earlier ones, probably because that was my point of entry.    What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?  Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? I’ve circled back to The X-Files at a couple moments since the original run.  When I Want to Believe came out, I read (and started working on) some fanfic again.  Same with the reboot.  I found some new writers via AO3 and Tumblr (though I don’t have my own Tumblr account).  I wrote something I intended to be part of a series and gave up on it.  I just don’t have the luxury of time that I once did to immerse myself in the experience; the writing I do is largely professional now.  I’ve rewatched episodes periodically, mostly old favorites (“Bad Blood,” “Postmodern Prometheus,” much of Season 7) but haven’t gotten back into the show in any serious way since then.  I tried a rewatch at the beginning of the pandemic and gave up on it; I still love Scully but the show feels very dated to me now. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files? No. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors? As I mentioned above, I do dip in and out of fanfic, although it’s been a few years since I read anything longer; I have notifications set up on AO3 so if an author I like posts something it goes to my email.  Otherwise, I’m not looking for fic; my non-pseudonymous self doesn’t read a lot of fiction in general, though when I do it’s a big third person novel.  (I just read The Plot and highly recommend.) Yes, I have favorites!  The work I was drawn to as an early reader was what I’d call “well written” on a sentence level but also created a particular world I liked.  I rarely got into any fic written in the first person.  I rarely liked what would be considered real AUs (like, Mulder and Scully meeting in high school, or in 1860 or something).  Did not read smut for smut’s sake.  I’m sure there’s some other quality that unifies “work I like” but I’d have to think more about it.

Most of the writers I liked and connected with I met via Scullyfic, including Bonetree and Alanna.  Fialka’s “Swings and Roundabouts” (I think that’s the name?) and her “Arizona Highways” [part 1, part 2] is one of my absolute favorite longer fics.  Prufrock’s Love’s work always hits the right tone for me; their more recent “Dr. Scully’s School for Exceptional Boys” is really great.  And Dasha K….I don’t remember the title but she has a post-FTF piece that includes eating mushroom pasta that I would really like to find again. [Lilydale note: I think this fic is The Trick is to Keep Breathing.] In my revival-era reading, I found DarlaBlack (@sigritandtheelves​), whose work I really like for the way that it engages motherhood and reproductive trauma.  There are many others I’m forgetting.  What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Hmmm.  Most of my work was set in the post-Requiem timeline and grappled with seasons 8 and 9.  I was dealing with my own infertility, so writing was a way for me both to grapple with my own experiences and try to make sense of canon, which made no sense.  (Like, when exactly was Scully doing IVF?)  I haven’t thought about my own work since I posted it to AO3 in 2018 or so but “Hypothetical” is one of the most meaningful for me. Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I have a file on my computer called “Dana Scully Does IVF” that’s a more complete engagement of the above but I don’t imagine I’ll finish it.  I wouldn’t rule it out, though, particularly if there’s ever another movie.  The end of the reboot really made me mad….so I’d be dealing with that.  I did write a couple post-season 11 fics I intended to be part of a series but I gave up. What's the story behind your pen name? I honestly don’t remember, though I still use the yahoo email I created in that era and if anyone finds me from this interview please do reach out! Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now? A long lost friend from that time had hosted a website with my work for a time; I couldn’t tell you where to find it. [Lilydale note: It’s here via Wayback.] But most of my work is still available at Gossamer (as far as I know) and I reposted at AO3 as a way to archive it.  There are a couple very short newer works there that I posted in the aftermath of season 11.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 31, 2021)

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 80: The Littlest Seidkona

Chapters: 80/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),Thor(Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time

Summary:  It's the final ceremony of Buridag-the Seidkona initiation-and all eyes are on you.

You woke up in Loki's arms, right where you had collapsed, Ulfrun, the junior healer looking over you.

“There.” she said. “It is as I told you, she was simply overwhelmed. There was a great deal of power moving during the ceremony, and she is still but mortal...”

“Yeah, that's me.” you grumbled. “Reaching above my station again.”

Ulfrun jerked back like she'd been burned. Loki chuckled.

“Yes, I think she will be all right. The Princess in Courtesy is in the habit of getting back up after she falls, never fear.”

Princess in Courtesy. That was what you were now. A princess without a kingdom, or people of your own, but you had the title...and for your purposes, that was all you needed.

“Will you have her come by for a checkup this evening? I'm certain Bjarkhilde will want to look her over.”

“I think I can do that.” You said, and she jerked back again. “I know, it's pretty weird, isn't it? But this'll make things easier in the long run, won't it? Except for the people who like talking trash at me, it's gonna suck for them, but I don't really feel bad for them.”

“I think we will be fine Ulfrun, thank you for your help.” Loki said.

“So. The ritual has brought you an inheritance.” Loki said, after the junior healer had hurried away. He kissed your cheeks and forehead, mumbling in affection. “So you will understand me now when I say that when I am drowning, you are my air, that I wish to wash my hair in your perfume, that when you look at me, an arrow pierces my heart, fixes it within my breast, pins it to my soul. Like a hapless bird, your gaze knocks me from the sky, to fall into your gentle, blossoming hands.”

Warmth flowed all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Stop, you're gonna make me faint again.” you murmured.

“Later then,” he said, amused. “When you are already laying down, perhaps.”

Thor poked his head around the back of the dais.

“The smoke is clearing.” he announced. “Is she all right?”

“Yeah, I'm good.” you said, Loki helping you to your feet. You had completed the ritual, now it was time to be presented to the people.

Out of the thinning smoke, and into the courtyard the three of you appeared, Heimdall keeping his vigil from atop the high dais. No one would dare make a move against you while he watched.

“The ceremony is complete!” Thor announced in his booming voice. “The paths of fate have been cleared for the Princess in Courtesy. May she pass down them in peace, for as long as her life has been interwoven with ours!”

The cheering was loud and enthusiastic, and seemed genuine. Your finger didn't hurt at all anymore, likely due to lying in Loki's arms for those few minutes while Ulfrun looked over you.

You stood and let them cheer as much as they wanted, then followed the princes back out of sight behind the dais when the crowds enthusiasm began to wane. You unwound the bandage from your finger to show a very pleased Loki that the tiny cut had nearly disappeared. It was nice to see how happy that made him, to remember how willing-even eager-he had been from the start to share that healing bond with you. You had never found out if that had cost him in pain or energy, just that it was very clear that he was more than ready to give.

“So you have gained something.” Thor mentioned on their way to drop you off with the other Seidkonas. “That will come in very handy. Save you decades of study.”

“So you didn't know it was going to happen either?” you asked. He shook his golden head.

“I've never actually seen one of these ceremonies performed. The last one I know of was for my mother, and that, of course, was before I was even born.”

“They must have had one for me,” Loki mused. “In secret. Hidden away in shame from prying eyes.”

Thor's warm smile withdrew into contemplation, as all three of you tried to envision it: A tiny, possibly blue infant, held over the bowl and crying, like a human baby getting their first check in with a doctor, a blade held against one minuscule hand or squirming foot...

It was an uncomfortable image, but it made sense to get it done as early as possible, if they were to pass Loki off as their son.

“So this is probably normal. Just another way to pass on the magic of Allspeak. We'll just see how well it works out for me.”

                                                 ******

The second part of your day was to be taken up by another, much longer and more complex ritual, that had to be done partially in secret. Thor and Loki escorted you, followed by many people, to one of the popup apartment complexes that now housed to majority of Asgard, until more permanent housing could be built. This one housed the thirteen remaining Seidkonas of Asgard, and had been transformed by them into a ritual house. With some small pomp, the princes transferred you into their care, but beyond their doors, it became a strict 'no boys allowed' club.

This was because, as soon as the door closed, you were led into the next room and stripped down, a bundle of incense being wafted around your body. Once naked, you were plunked down into a metal tub filled with a redolent herbal tea, which the others scooped up in bathing bowls and poured over your head, as if making a kind of Seidkona soup.

The entire dwelling was dimly lit with only candles, and the other Seidkonas were mostly silent in their work, speaking only to give you quiet instructions, or chant ceremonial blessings from the Norns.

Newly cleansed, you entered a different room, this time converted into a kind of sauna. In the pitch dark you sat and sweated, swaddled in thick clouds of suffocating steam from more herbal tea, ladled constantly over the hot stones.

Whether from the heat, the herbs, or the incense, you didn't know, but you began to feel odd. The magic within you felt as though it was swelling, throbbing with a heartbeat different than your own. The passage of time became meaningless, but eventually you began to see a light. Soft, blue, and ephemeral, you couldn't focus on it's source, as it dimmed down into nothing every time you tried to concentrate on it. But it pulsed like the heartbeat of your magic.

The Seidkonas who had joined you in the sauna began singing one word, one tone over and over. Your heart and your magic began to attune to it, thumping along in time, like your little Seidkona drum. The word felt natural, it slotted into your mind, filling a tiny, empty hole. The last syllable of the chant you had been practicing for weeks now. The very last piece of the magical puzzle, that you were not yet meant to utter.

You heard the beating of drums outside, muffled by the door, which cracked open and let in a blast of air. You knew it was warm, but it felt cool on your heated skin, disintegrated the clouds of herbal vapor, and sharpened your heat-fuzzed mind to a razor point. You exited the sauna like an infant; brand new and surrounded by sensation. The air was cool, the candles were bright, and the tub of pure water they dumped over you was like shards of ice.

While some of the women dried and helped you dress yourself, others continued the drum beat that had started while you were in the sauna. Seidkona drums were made of wood now, but their drumstick was shaped like a bone, and the little drums were rounded like skulls, and they may have been these things, long, long ago.

You sat among them, and were given a chunk of bread to eat, and a light, sweet fruit juice to drink. The flavor and texture was more clear than ever before, the sensation of relieving hunger and thirst practically palpable. The drumming continued while your hair dried and and you devoured the snack.

It wasn't just the steam or the heat-whatever herbal concoction you had bathed in and breathed in was effecting you. Your senses felt wider, like you were experiencing sensations on a deeper level. Maybe you always felt things this much, but simply hadn't noticed before.

Somehow you knew when to stand up. You and all the other Seidkonas got to your feet at the same time, some kind of unknown but compelling signal alerting you. As one, you all filed to the door.

Your instructor, the eldest of the Seidkonas stepped up beside you, as the others gathered their cloaks and drums.

“You are different than us.” she said. “The magic runs through you just the same, so you should know in advance: at the initiation, something new is always revealed. Some power, some knowledge previously unknown or lost. I know you've read about it with Saga, and you must understand that there is the probability that it will also happen to you. But you must also know that it's possible that it will not happen. Because you are different than us, and though the magic flows through you just the same, the rest of you might not be able to handle such a revelation. Never have the Norns allowed one of us to be harmed by this initiatory experience. They care about those who act in their stead, and will not force you through something you cannot handle. However, if they decide that you can handle it, human or not, they will push you to your very limit. Be ready for either outcome, for once it is started, there is no going back.”

The ancient Seidkona provided you your little rounded drum, and the parade began; a double line of esteemed sorceresses, wrapped in dark blue cloaks. You followed behind, cloakless, beating your drum in time with the others, a call to the masses that the initiate was coming, the ritual was beginning.

You followed your escort into the same courtyard from earlier in the day. In the time you had been squirreled away for cleansing, the whole area had been transformed. The tall dais was gone, another set of seating had taken its place. There were special seats for the most important guests, and new fencing had been erected, leading to clearly defined separation of Asgardian and human spectators. The entire courtyard had been swept clean of all snow and slush, all debris had been removed and sapphire blue decorations depicting your mark in silver had been put up. New torches had been planted and lit, and large braziers had been placed within the circle-one for each Seidkona, and an extra one in the center for you. They were each filled with a bundle to burn, a little tuft of incense herbs poking out of the top.

The drum beat continued as people filled the seats, as Thor and Loki took their special places, mere spectators in your grand show. The Seidkonas fanned out from their lines and each stood in front of a brazier. The drums only stopped once you had reached the brazier in the center. Each sorceress lit their own fire in their own way. Some were able to use magic, others used burning rods, lit from the torches. You had decided some weeks ago not to use a rod, but to use your magic to teleport burning material into your brazier.

And it worked! You were able to teleport fire! Your bundle burned...for all of a few moments, before the flames shrunk and went out.

Damn. You tried it again. Once more, the fire popped into being within your brazier. And once again, dwindled and disappeared. And again, with the same results. Why wasn't it working?

You heard muttering in the crowd, and you could pick out a few conspicuous questions being asked.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

“Is this a bad omen?”

“Does this mean she's not supposed to be doing this?”

“Did she fail?”

Frustrated, you stalked over to a torch, uprooted it, and used it to light your brazier. This time, the damn thing stayed lit. You scoured the gathered people with a glare, as if daring them to say anything more.

To your eternal annoyance, you spotted Todd among the human seating, his eyes narrowed in the expression he always got when you'd done something he hadn't expected or given you permission to do. Thankfully, you were much too far away to hear the veiled insults and negging that always followed that expression, but your memory helpfully provided several old examples, and they echoed around in your head until you forced them to cease. You swore, if he ever brought this up to you, you were going to teleport him into the middle of the river. If he was properly apologetic, you might even pull him out of the mud before he sank in forever.

Maybe.

“Practical.” Loki said in a stage whisper that carried out over the crowd. “Even mages must know how to solve problems without resorting to magic.” The crowd fell silent once again. Positioned right in front of you, the old Seidkona's wrinkled lips twisted into a wry smirk. She then lifted her drumstick into the air, and the dance began. The dance was supposedly simple: three steps and a quarter turn, four times, ending in a full spin, and then starting again, all in a circle around the burning brazier. Simultaneously, the drum beat, and the chant song kept time. You thumped your little drum, chanting along as you'd practiced. It would only get more challenging, you knew, and as soon as the chant had reached its end, it started over, this time faster. Your performance, how long and fast you could go before declaring the secret last word and bringing it all to an end, was supposed to determine how powerful a Seidkona you would be. In reality, your status was already confirmed, and everyone knew that expectations had to be different for a human, but you were still determined to give the best showing that you were physically capable of. And so you sped up. And sped up. And sped up, continuing until the world became a blur, and dizziness  threatened to overtake you. Blue light sparkled at the edges of your vision, having escaped your dreams, now following you into trance states, when you were between awake and asleep. And faster. And faster. Though you were breathless, the chant song filled your ears, the drum beat mimicking your racing heart, until finally, lest you fall over into the fire, you stopped, threw your drumstick hand into the air, and shouted the last word at the top of your voice. Something appeared in your hands, forcing you to drop the drum and stick. You flung it high into the air. Both Loki and Thor cried out in surprise.

You felt the mark on your hand spark into life, runes searing up your arm, neck, and face. The power buzzed through you, like a swarm of bees in your blood, and for the first time, you could make out words in the thrum of magic. You finally knew what it wanted from you.

You were meant to break the lock. Learn us Learn us Learn us.

“Show me.” you commanded. And then the universe opened up before you.

[harcidian]

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

I got tagged by @edisacornball , thank you dear friend!

these are all FMA fics :) let’s not add my wips for art since they’re all named as “Untitled Project” lol

• quintessence

• meridian

• primordial

• perpetual

• ephemeral (answered here)

• fragmental

• make believe

• random writing sparks*

• rroj log 11 and log 12

• amber-brown eyes

• lowkey

• first impressions

• non-negotiable

• epiphany

• awkward firsts roy being a dork (? idk, title is still unsure)

*unpublished royai ficlet, i can’t think of a proper title so i left it at that, it was something I wrote to get out of my burnout

15 wips, so that’s 15 people. For once, I’m following the rules 🙊 tagging @bringingglory @vadeofspades @aureshadow @klainelynch @fullmetalscullyy @waddiwasiwitch @firewoodfigs @lantur @lilisky @megthemighty @fullmetal-hellmouthchemist @musing-and-music @x-rainflame-x @darkpersonapeace @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee (my word, i just realized you’re rizahawkayyyy! thanks so much for reading eloquent 🥰)

but only if you want to! and anyone else who’d like to join 🐯 feel free to ask!

[bangjeon]

Laissez Faire → PT. 1

→ Credit For Media: Here!

→ Jungkook x Reader | Yoongi x Reader | BodySwap AU | Enemies 2 Lovers! AU

→ Comedy | Fluff | Angst | Smut | Some clinical but explicit sexual stuff that isn’t even hot but this is a heads up anyways | Also I don’t know if this is crack but it might be(?) so 

→ Synopsis: Going home with the young and charming Jungkook on a whim was supposed to be an ephemeral unwinding from your relatively ordinary, stressful life as a twenty-something woman. However, it seems the universe had different intentions for you entirely when you find yourself waking up in a body that isn’t your own. And to make things worse, Jungkook isn’t as easy to get along with as you had initially thought. 

→ Word Count: 18k

“You know what you need? A boyfriend.”

Somin’s sudden advice, albeit not at all surprising coming from her, makes you guffaw. “Yeah, I’ll pass. Although, takeaway sounds good right now.”

It’s only the earlier part of a Wednesday evening yet your colleague still had the nerve to insist on coming along to your place after work hours. You’d call her a hindrance to your social life but at the peak age of 27, living the single life with a dead-end job that was certainly not 9 to 5 as it had promised in the contract, it was nice to have her around.

Equally as unsurprised by your blunt rejection, she continues to file her nails with indifference. “C’mon, I could set you up with so many nice, rich guys. You wouldn’t even have to live downtown or work in that god damned job anymore if you ended up hitting it off with one of them. ”

You lay down onto your sofa with a over-dramatic groan. Truth be told, Somin was describing the fantasy you kept close to your heart which you knew would never come true.

“I’m feeling Chinese tonight.”

She groans and gives you a hard look, only to whine when you stare back at her with indifference. “C’mon, Y/N, you should give it a shot!”

“Any guy that refers to himself as a nice guy is already off my list,” you say with a distasteful scrunch of your nose. It wasn’t you being picky, it was only due to your past endeavours that you held such views. Your last break up being example A. Three months ago, you had ended things with him after a 2 year-long relationship. If that had taught you anything, it was that heterosexual men were untrustworthy and essentially, trash in the grand scheme of things. 

You shifted to face Somin, sitting on the carpet, who was currently deeply invested in her nails. “If anything,” you begin, half incoherent with the way you face is pressed against a pillow, “I need to get laid.”

At this, she pauses her nail care routine and glances towards you with a glint of something you can’t make out in her gaze. “When’s the last time you got some?”

“Jeez, I, uh, haven’t done stuff since Seokjin. There’s possibly some cobwebs down there,” you bashfully admit, barely able to remember the last time you had seen a penis that wasn’t on a screen. “But I admit that it’d be nice to have something quick and one-off to remind me I’m not a virgin.”

Somin sets her cosmetic utensils down on the coffee table before springing up. “Then that is exactly what you’ll get!”

You look up to her with your eyebrows set in dismay. “Whatever it is you’re scheming, forget it. I was only just being honest.”

A glance towards the transparent balcony doors tells you that the evening had only just begun as you spot the setting Sun far on the horizon. Normally, from this time onwards you’d spend relaxing and recovering from what gruelling labour you’d have to do in that forsaken cubicle but with the unreadable glint that shone within Somin’s gaze as she grinned at you, there was the inkling feeling you wouldn’t be able to do just that tonight.

“But-”

“Last time I listened to you, we were lost on the other side of town at five in the morning.”

“Just hear me out,” she pleads, sending you a exasperated look so you bite your tongue and listen. Another telltale sign that you were about to hear some sort of tomfoolery was the way Somin begins to comb through her newly-dyed blonde hair with her fingers. “There is a new club that opened a few blocks from here recently,” she muses with a soft sigh. “And I’ve heard that it’s particularly great for hooking up. So what do you say?”

Your eyebrows, once furrowed, shoot up to your hairline as you begin to understand the implication of her words. “Are you serious? Clubbing on a work night? When I said I’d like to get laid, I didn’t mean right now.”

“Sure! I mean, it’s a great plan, actually. It won’t unbearably busy since it’s a Wednesday night and even if you don’t get to hook up with someone, per se, you could get their number at the very least.”

“The only people at clubs on Wednesday nights are old, fat men and, not to be picky, but I’d rather not.” Your protests to Somin’s suggestion does not make her mien of determination budge even slightly, completely undeterred by your flat-out rejection. If there is one thing you have learned about Somin, ever since she first became your cubicle neighbour last year, is that once she has an idea, it is a mission to make her forget it. “But we can always plan to go for the weekends!” You weakly add on in a last attempt to sway her.

“No point. Anyways, they’re always too crowded and someone always vomits on the dancefloor before the fun can begin. Unless you want to end up deflowering a college boy that doesn’t know your vagina from your asshole. Saturdays and Sundays are crawling with them,” she calmly responds with a little shudder at the end. “Anyways, it’s seven now and we should go about, nine-ish. Giving us two hours to get ready, so, pray tell, lead me to your closet.”

“Is there anyway I can convince you to not do this?”

“Hm, no.”

There’s no avoiding it, you silently resolve. Releasing a heavy, drawn-out sigh of resignation to your fate, you lift yourself from the haven of your sofa and head towards your bedroom. “This way.”

Somin giggles in victory and takes your lead.

Inevitably, you do end up outside this club your co-worker and, unfortunately, friend, had been so set on taking you to.  If you were going to be frank, it looked like any other nightclub within the city.

A subtle entrance, surrounded by two or so bouncers with the faint yet taunting beat barely audible from the outside. Somin was right in the sense that it wouldn’t be as near as buzzing as the weekend tended bring out as the queue that usually accompanied the outside of the night club was near non-existent.

As the Uber that had brought you here quietly departs in the background, it then that you realise you are stuck to make do with the environment. In all honesty, you don’t expect much from this expedition to the heart of the city. What sort of ideal fuck hangs around at a club on a Wednesday night? 

You take in the sight with a slight grimace, still not particularly convinced if this is all worth the loss of sleep and possible hangover you’ll have to face and deal with at 9 AM tomorrow in the office. A pause in your qualms has you grasping that this is you getting old. Side-glancing at the comparatively excited grin that’s wide across Somin’s lips has you confirming just as much.

Despite the autumnal season, Somin had also insisted on you wearing a dressing with the thinnest material she could’ve picked from your closet of sweaters and hoodies. “Can we go in already? My tits are gonna freeze off,” you struggle to say, shivering slightly as a soft breeze passes.

She nods and leads you to the entrance, saying something to the bouncers which you don’t catch as you focus on tugging your dress down for that extra inch of modesty. The hem stops slightly above your knees however the white material acts as a second skin, clinging to every contour of your body. It’s rarely ever made it out your apartment since it’s brave purchase but despite your discomfort with the fitting, you admit that it’s more club-appropriate than any of your other clothes are.

Whilst occupied with your fussing, Somin tugs your hand away and leads you ahead, delving into the depths of the club. She glances towards you, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Haven’t you ever been in a club, Y/N? You look terrified.”

“Not since I turned twenty-one,” you confess, gingerly taking a few glances around the club. With the fluorescent moving lights and the accompaniment of house music, you take extra care to cling onto Somin, worried you might stumble on the high heels you chose to wear. “So – uh – what do we do now?”

Somin giggles at your question, patting your cheek endearingly. “You’re so cute. Let’s head to the bar and have a few drinks. Maybe you’ll attract a few guys since you’re looking like such a snack.”

Her kind words make you soften at that. Maybe, if not sex specifically, you could use this as a way to loosen up from work. Since you were here already, having spent the time and effort to dress up for it, that's the mindset you should adopt from now on, you decided. “Okay,” you easily comply and allow her to lead you, weaving through the significant amount of people. There were more than you’d expected to be in here.

Reaching the seats adjacent to the counter of the bar, you freeze upon hearing Somin’s request for particularly strong drink than you would’ve liked to consume but before you can address the issue, your friend takes lead in the conversation by switching to a new topic. “So, what type of guy is it?”

You blink at her a few times, still getting used to the dark lighting. “Type?”

She rolls her eyes at your puzzlement. “What is it you look for in a person? What do you find attractive?”

You hum for a few moments trying to gather an honest answer. All your exes were abstractedly different whether it be appearance or personality and so you came to the conclusion that was nothing specifically you were adamant on. If anything, when it came to grouping all your exes together, all it indicated was that you had a habit for taking a liking to assholes.

Biting your lip in hesitation, you parted your mouth only to close it several times before you came up with a lame answer. “Someone who has the same political opinions as me and recognises the issues that needed to be tackled in our modern society? …And they’re funny?” 

The tone of your response makes everything you say sound like a question, as unsure as you are about your ‘type’. You had never thought of dating someone or fucking someone in such a linear way; you fell for someone when you fell for someone. But, as your history also pointed out, you weren’t the most successful in your approach either.

The countenance that sits on Somin’s features informs you that your answer probably wasn’t one she was expecting. “Right… so imagine you’re having a drink at a bar by yourself and the hottest guy in the whole room comes up to you and wants to get to know you but you find out he doesn’t agree with you on some stuff, what will you do?”

A scoff escapes you as you assess the situation, you cross your legs. “What do you mean?”

She taps her acrylics on the table just as the drinks arrive, brightly coloured cocktails slide towards the two of you and you offer the bartender an appreciative nod. “Let’s say you were mid-conversation, and you’re already planning on all the positions he’s gonna fuck you in, but homeboy drops that he voted Trump. What would you do?”

You pull the most horrific face, struggling to find even in what universe you’d let yourself be wooed by a Trump supporter. Sure, your exes were all different sorts of dickheads but at least they had more than two brain cells. “I’d backflip out the window and run away.”

“Really? Just for one night, you wouldn’t let this Republican sex god blow your back out?”

“Not a damn chance if he wants to infringe on my human rights like that.”

Somin shrugs with little disagree on that topic and takes a long sip from her Martini. “Okay so an open-minded guy that’s funny. We can work with that. Keeping in mind that fact that you did just break up with Seokjin, try to keep your visual standards a little bit more reasonable.” There’s a pause in the conversation, the chatter and music in the background filling into it. Eyeing your untouched drink, you weigh out the pros and cons of getting drunk.

As much as you tried to deny it, you were a lightweight and the contents in your glass was more than enough to have you feeling lightheaded. At the current moment, you choose to abstain a little longer from the refreshment. When you glance back up at Somin, she’s focused on something else. “Hello?” You say, waving your hand in front of her. “What are you looking at?”

She doesn’t reply quickly enough and you turn to look over your shoulder, curious at what possesses her attention but Somin quickly grabs your hand before you make the move. You blink a few times, perplexed by her behaviour. “Am I missing something?”

“Don’t make it obvious but there’s a really cute guy not far from us and he keeps looking over at us and talking to his friends. I think he might come over,” Somin whispers to you with a body language that is anything but obvious. You press your lips together for a moment, compressing the bubbling laughter that threatens to escape you at the sight of her spying. “Oh my god, you really hit the jackpot Y/N. If you fuck him with those set of thunder thighs and live to tell the story, I will personally need a full-length report on it tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah but what if he supports that piece of chicken liver President?” You offer, sceptical. In this moment, you give into your desire and take a large sip of the martini. With your lack of alcohol tolerance, you can instantly sense the slight influence of the drink but with Somin’s restless excitement, you suppose that this is a good time to opt for some liquid courage.

Your friend looks to you and chuckles, shaking her head as she runs her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “I doubt it.” A quick side glance spared back to her apparent target, Somin stiffens. “He’s coming this way, he’s coming this way,” she mutters and subsequently grabs her drink to attempt what she thinks to be acting natural.

Her enthusiasm makes you smile fondly but you already plan on not taking anyone home tonight despite Somin’s tactics in getting you out here for that sole reason. You’ve already made up your mind – the thought of having to shoo someone out after a quick fuck and mediocre orgasm, that is if you even manage to get there, is unappealing when you then come to think that your job starts within the next couple hours. Its inconvenience had put you off as you valued sleep more than that at this current stage in your life however, this journey could be utilised in other ways.

For all Somin’s attempts in getting you back in the dating game after your break up, she had been soaring with the single life well before you. Although she had already placed her money on you hooking up with him, you’d be happy to let her take the reins and have at it. It’d be nice to see her hit it off with someone, even if that meant you’d have to deal with the wrath of her with a boyfriend.

Thoughts making you momentarily forget your situation, a male voice interrupts you from your pondering. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” he says.

Whilst Somin is already smiling brightly, you look like a fish out of the water, snapping away from your daze and tilting your head up to catch a glimpse of the strangers. He’s looking straight at you.

His hair has a russet hue, parted to reveal a tantalising expanse of forehead and eyebrows. His slightly tanned complexion looks clear and soft, even in the poor lighting the club provides. There’s a slight grin to his features whilst he studies you the same way, weighing you up, and you use the chance to look at his body and it is then you notice how perfect the proportions are of his lithe figure. As you take in the sight of the young man, you come to the conclusion that he is indeed hot as hell.

This guy radiates a sense of confidence, cockiness and buoyancy you’ve become familiar enough to associate with particularly younger men. Intimidation rises within you and begin to chicken out, wondering if excusing yourself to a restroom visit is appropriate. You need a guy who isn’t fresh out from college to take you out, not one of the college guys that Somin had earlier warned you of.

Your gaze lingers long enough to the point that you have to break away or it’ll just become weird, so you clear your throat. “This is our first time here,” you say, sounding almost like a robot with your monotonous voice.

Somin helpfully picks up on your struggle to begin small talk and, as skilled as she is, continues for you. You send her an invisible brain signal of gratitude as she opens her mouth. “I need to visit the restroom so I’ll be back in a bit. Have fun, kiddos,” she gracefully executes an excuse, lifting herself off the seat.

Your jaw drops, she’s abandoned you! When you send a clearly troubled look as she begins to walk off, Somin winks with drink in hand. ‘Text me if you need something’ she mouths with unnecessary theatrics.

The man, still unnamed, takes what was once your best friend’s seat. “I’ve only been here like twice so that wasn’t the best of starters,” he admits, the corners of his lips subtly tilting upwards.

Staring at this gorgeous piece of meat in front of you, you want nothing more than to grab your purse and breadsticks and whatnot and make a run for it. As beautiful as this man is, you’re not prepared to flirt and woo him over. You sigh and pick up your glass, swirling the contents within it. “It’s okay, I don’t even know what to say if that helps.”

He bites down on his lip, raising his brows at your resigned look. You don’t mean to be rude, he looks like a nice guy, but if he’s expecting to get something more than a boring conversation from this, it’s his fault. You’re not gonna do it, you’re not gonna go home with this guy, you don’t need this. Heck, it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. Maybe all he wants from this is an amiable conversation.

“I’m Jungkook.” Jungkook’s voice is soft, not deep or raspy, but it has a nice sound to it. “So... what brings you to a club on a Wednesday night?”

Your lips quirks up at the cheesy choice of starters but you refuse to let your sight off your suddenly incredibly fascinating cocktail. “A stubborn friend that doesn’t take no for an answer or fear of getting fired, if you must know. But I could ask the same thing to you.”

“Ah.” He nods in understanding. Wearing a plain black hoodie and ripped black jeans, you allow yourself to take advantage of your downcast gaze and sneak a peek at his thighs that Somin had so lovingly described earlier. The denim material clings to it generously and gives you a nice view of just how thick and solid they looked. Your eyebrows raise only slightly since you’re trying to avoid making your admiration obvious.

“I work where hours aren’t so strict and I can sleep in a bit, so it’s not much of a mission to go to a club on a work night.”

The news that he in fact has a job also makes you pause since you had so quickly written him off as a student. “Oh… what do you work as?” You can’t help but ask.

With your new show of interest, you notice his grin widen substantially in your peripheral vision. “A music producer. The studio is pretty lax with work hours.”

At this, you finally take the chance of making eye contact with him, surprise clearly written over your face. “I wouldn’t expect someone so young to have a full-time job.”

“So young?” He repeats your word with a snort, as though taking offence to.

You take the time to finish the rest of your martini, hoping the contents would make you less timid and loosen you up. “Sure, I would’ve guessed you to be a college kid or something.”

Jungkook scoffs at your assumption. “You can’t be any older than me but I guess I should take that as a compliment?”

Waving him off, your lips curve into a small smile. “Nah, I’m surprised you’re hitting on a lady like me when there are plenty younger ones on the dancefloor.”

“I don’t even know your name but how old you are, may I ask?”

“Twenty-seven,” you say as though it physically pains you. The years have passed by and, for the most it, gone to waste far too quickly. Taking a wild guess from the look of Jungkook, it was probably safe to say he looked near the 21 mark and younger guys never really appealed to you like that.

Releasing a laugh almost unpleasant to hear, you’re happy to find that Jungkook does indeed have at least one flaw. He clicks his tongue in reprimand. “I’m only two years younger than you,” Jungkook reveals. You cock your head, twenty-five then. “And who said I’m hitting you?”

“Anyone with two eyes actually,” you say easily. The alcohol seems to be doing its part in helping you forgo your polite, sober mannerisms. Placing an elbow on the counter and propping your chin onto your palm, you watch him raise an eyebrow in curiosity. You grin at him, to make clear you don’t intend your words to be understood in the unkind manner. “Unless your only interest in coming up to me was to gain a friend, to which I’d be pleasantly surprised by,” you add on lightly as a second thought.

He cringes at that, indirectly proving you were right with your assumption. “Do you not like being hit on? I can leave if you want.” Jungkook says this considerately which you appreciate. “Ah, I should’ve used a different opening, Namjoon said it usually works,” he says quitter with a nervous laugh. You probably weren’t supposed to hear that, you muse whilst watching Jungkook ruefully cards through his hair. It’s… cute.

You release a laugh with such sudden force that you snort. Embarrassment fills you as you reach to cover your mouth, badly attempting to stop your bubbling laughter. Macho and mighty might’ve been the initial aura that radiated from Jungkook but looking at him now, after these few awkward minutes, you found him quite endearing to watch actually.

Still recovering from your fit of laughter, Jungkook watches you with a mirth dancing in his gaze, pleased with the sight. He must’ve done something right to get you so breathless.

“D-don’t worry,” you struggle to say as you recover from the amusement he’s caused you. “I’m bad at this whole thing too.” Avoiding his gaze by playing with the tropical straw of your cup, you feel an uncharacteristic shyness rise within you. “Although I fail to see  how you could fault at this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Offering him a pointed look, you scoff. “You know exactly what I mean! Flirting and being charming comes naturally to attractive people. Hot people privilege, I think they call it.”

Jungkook straightens with a new sense of pride, a leering smirk on him. “So, what I’ve gathered is that you think I’m attractive.”

“I’m sure you get it often enough,” you say with a small shrug. There was no other way to go about it, Jungkook was definitely a winner of the genetic lottery. Ten minutes of talking and you already felt significantly more comfortable speaking to him. Perhaps it was the drink – or maybe Jungkook was just naturally really easy to talk to.

Despite his pleasure in finding out you somewhat reciprocate the allure, Jungkook clears his throat whilst trying to school his features into something casual, not wanting to appear as jubilant as he felt. Older women were always noted as his type and he often found that not many of them took him as seriously as he wanted to be, brushing his attempts off for his youth. Annoying as it was, the term happiness was an understatement for what he felt upon realising you hadn’t completely written him off just yet. Or so he hoped.

Fishing for more compliments by furthering the topic didn’t seem like a good choice so his eyes dropped to your empty glass. “Do you wanna order some drinks?”

“Uh, I don’t know, it depends.” Fine, you’ll give this guy a shot. You tilt your head up at him with a humoured expression.  “Am I going to have to pay for it?”

To answer your query, Jungkook simply pulls out his wallet and sets down a few paper notes on the counter. “You think I’ve come all the way over here for a free drink,” he laughs with a shake of his head.

“Maybe. When have men ever been reliable,” you say with a slight bitterness you didn’t mean to slip out. Perhaps you still hadn’t completely got over your post-relationship grief but you had done a darn good job of masking it till now so you move on. “So, is being a music producer as glamorous it sounds?”

“It has its perks. At the end of the day, it’s what I love and I can make a living off of it so what is there to complain about? I’m no big name in the industry but I think I’ll can get there, someday hopefully.”

“That’s… really cool, actually. I’ll be sure to buy all your songs legally then, if it’s any help.”

“Not illegally downloading music like the rest of us do, just for me? I’m honoured.”

You both admire and resent the candour his words hold. It’s inspiring to see Jungkook so adamant and passionate on his career. On the other hand, you can’t help but notice the slight jab of jealousy that hits your gut. Being able to love your job and have a passion for your work was something most people couldn’t find, yourself included, and Jungkook had managed to get there at an age like his. A bartender arrives when Jungkook waves at her, whispering the order before sliding the cash to her. You hear a faint, slightly flirtatious giggle but it goes unheard in your deep monologue of life.

However, it is finally interrupted when he turns to you, “What about your office job?”

You blink a few times, straightening your posture as you come up for an answer and nervously laugh. “Yeah, I just have a real passion for staring at spreadsheets and being hounded at by male colleagues who think they’re supervisors due to some type of internalised misogyny but, oh you know, I love it,” you reply, tone drenched in a playful sarcasm. “I suppose it’s okay as far as any nine to five office job can be, y’know?”

Jungkook regards you first with a furrowed brow but begins to chuckle. “Are they really that bad?”

“I mean, it’s not that bad. Not when I have Somin being it’s saving grace,” you smile at the thought.

A tray filled with an array of shot glasses arrives in front of you, indicating this was Jungkook’s choice of order. Lovely, you think with surge dread. As if your embarrassingly low tolerance could even manage four of these without getting  incredibly tipsy yet there were many more than ten presented in front of you. Slowly, you turn to Jungkook with a raised brow.

He shrugs, offering you’re an apologetic yet cheeky smile. Picking up two of the glasses, Jungkook then offers one to you. “You in?”

Having shots with a man you met little than fifteen minutes ago was probably not the adult choice to make but God, did you want nothing more. Even if it meant everything you had previously aggravated over on the car ride here was going to be compromised. Biting your lip, you nod and accept the glass. You share a single look with Jungkook, unable to not smile and not think why the hell not even though there are several answers to that. A nod, and you both drink to a new friendship and perhaps something more.

After the first, slightly off-flavoured shot, the rest of mush together and you can’t seem to differentiate from what was the third and what was the fourth.

The trey is still occupied with a few untouched glasses but you feel like you’re buzzed enough. More than enough. Drunk as in your stumbling and you’re giggling a bit but you’re not about to immediately vomit your stomach’s contents out straight away, which is good.

It’s good because you don’t have worry about running off to puke. Not now. Not when you’re up against the wall in an alleyway beside the club with Jungkook’s tongue down your throat. You’re not exactly how it escalated so quickly but asking him won’t make much of a difference since he’s just about as wasted as you, and anyways, it’s not like you don’t want this. How long have you been making out with him? Ten minutes or twenty, you seem to have lost complete count of the time.

One of his hands comes to frame your jaw whilst the other finds pushes itself on the flesh of your ass, groping with as equal ferocity as the way his mouth frames your own. When his tongue sweeps across your lower lip, a moan claws its way out your throat as you feel a direct shock to your core.

Jungkook is the first to pull away, strands of saliva evident then disperse as he parts from your lips, panting equally as heavily as you. “D-do you want to take this somewhere a bit, uh, better? My place?” He mumbles, forehead against your own. The question reminds you that you’re in a fucking alleyway and your white dress is definitely not stain resistant.

Gulping down a large breath of air, you nod ardently. “Yes, please,” you respond.

As intoxicated as you are, you’ve still the bit of conscience left in you to know what you’re agreeing to when you say yes and you’d like nothing more, to be honest.

He isn’t a man who asks twice. Jungkook reluctantly pushes himself off of you, pulls at your hand and heads to hail a taxi.

Making out in the back of one isn’t the most refined thing to do, especially when you have a something-like-70-year-old man driving it so for the small ride it is. So, you manage to put off Jungkook’s advances for the time being despite wanting to reciprocate just as fervently.

When his groping and whatnot become too difficult for you to stay silent and your occasional warning glances remain unnoticed, you pinch his hand to keep his wandering fingers at bay. Instead, Jungkook opts for leaving his hand atop your upper thigh, gripping to it throughout the rest of the duration.

Merely watching the veins that decorate his forearms move as his grip adjusts is enough to get you going. Celibate for something like three months without a problem but now, with his hand on you like that and his jaw clenched at such a fine angle, you feel as though you’re going to burst if you don’t have his fingers or whatever else of his inside you sooner or later.

And by the time you reach the outside of Jungkook’s apartment block, the lust in the vehicle is near palpable with such a stretched time for desire to marinate.

He fiddles with his keys clumsily, having them slip out more than once before he finally manages to reach the inside of his abode. “Hurry up,” you whined with a mixture of annoyance and desperation. At this rate, you’d pass out before he’d even manage a finger inside of you.

“I’m hurrying,” Jungkook returns in an equally as frustrated tone. Finally, the lock gives way and the two of you stumble into his abode. Normally, you’d take a few moments to look at your surroundings, weigh it out, maybe snoop to see a few family photos but such frivolity was very much at the back of your mind. All you could think manage to think of was the growing arousal that was most likely forming a dark spot through your panties.

Thankfully, after a quick slip of shoes, Jungkook wastes no time in returning back to current affairs. Hands grabbing at your waist, he pulls you in for another rough kiss to which you easily comply to. Given your state of mind, it isn’t the most artful of make outs you’ve experienced. This is sloppy, messy, aggressive even with the odd clash of teeth but it only fuels the burgeoning desire within your lower stomach.

One hand of his slides up from its hold on your side and cups your left breast, softly massaging it through the thin fabric of your dress. Your unpadded bra does little to hid the strain of your pert nipples against the garment. Jungkook gently pinches it causing you to pause in your kissing, groaning from the gratification his movement gives you.

“D-didn’t expect you to be such a g-good girl,” he mumbles during a momentary breather. “I bet you’re - nngh - so wet already, spending all night staring at my thighs. Maybe I’ll let y-you fuck yourself on them.” Jungkook’s words are stuttered as he struggles to continues to let out strings of explicit words that only make the emptiness between your legs even less bearable. All you manage to respond with an agreeing moan, bucking your hips into the prominent bulge outlined in his jeans for some inch of relief.

As a need for further intimacy forms, the two of you stumble to his bedroom. And quickly enough, all your garments discarded and left chucked on the floor.

A throbbing headache is the first greeting you receive at the sound of your alarm, severely so. It feels like stabbing to the head.

Your eyes flutter opens only briefly but in your state of deterioration, you can’t quite manage to keep them open long enough. You let your alarm ring a few more times, hoping it would switch off soon enough so you could comfortably enjoy your self-rewarded few more minutes of shuteye.

Getting drunk never boded well for you, only resulting in an unforgiving headache to be dealt with the next day like you were currently experiencing. You shuffle under the sheets, drowsily trying to recall the events of last night ready for the strong splash of remorse to hit you. The club with Somin, speaking to Jungkook, taking drinks with Jungkook… the rest from then on were fragmented memories that did enough to clear the picture. You cringe as the reminders of having work in a few hours also pops up as an afterthought. Apparently, your resolve wasn’t just as strong enough as you had hoped, being that everything that you didn’t intend to happen did in spite of your autonomy.

Your partner is still fast asleep, not wasting glance because you could already feel the bodily heat emanating off of him. Well, there was no point wasting time here then, as fun as it had been.

You take care not to disrupt Jungkook’s tranquil slumber as you sit yourself up in the bed, rubbing your eyes vehemently. Once you finally manage to open your eyes properly, you take in the messy sight of the bedroom. Seeing last night’s clothing left sprawled out on the floor, you take that as a sign to hurry up with things.

As you let out a yawn, you stretch your arms out in front of you in preparation for having to get a move on within the next few minutes. You lazily blink at the scene in front of you.

It almost goes unnoticed.

Your hands don’t… look like this; masculine and veiny. You do a double take at the first observation, scrutinising everything you certainly hadn’t been familiar with before. Shock settles within you and your processing takes a good minute before you take a further step.

Hesitantly, you press your palms to your chest. Hard and flat. Not to be over generous, but you had always had a fair amount of bust on you but if anything, your chest felt nothing but mostly horizontal under your touch. Your shock quickly turns into a blend of panic and confusion.

“What the fuck?” you say aloud for the first time in the morning. The manly baritone makes you instantly go still. Another question enters your mind that’s already near the edge of hysteria.

Slowly, your hand slides down the torso of your body, noting the abs that seemed to have suddenly formed overnight, and grab your crotch. Something was there that certainly wasn’t there before. Silently screaming at the scenario playing out, you grip the body part and give it a vehement shake to make sure it isn’t anything that isn’t attached to your skin and all that results in is a sharp and strong strike of pain to your nether regions.

You inhale a shaky, deep breath. “This is just a bad trip. I’ve taken some drug and I’m just having a really, really bad trip,” you mutter to yourself with the conviction of a worshipper. Maybe it’s just a dream and you pinch yourself to test the theory. When another much less significant bout of hurt stings you, it is with a heavy heart you find you’ve been proven wrong.

Only five minutes into your day and things were already off to a terrible start. To put things into perspective, you had… physically become a male over night? Nothing was making sense and your freaked thoughts did nothing but make your hangover headache have an even strong throb to it.

The sound of bed sheets ruffling beside you as supposedly Jungkook shuffles tears you from your breakdown. Surely you couldn’t be the only one affected by this odd turn of events.

Prudently, you peer over to the body beside you and angle your head to have a better look at the face.

“Oh. My. God. Oh my god. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” a litany of expletives are all you can mumble, unbelieving as your eyes go wide as saucers.

Beside you, was your body. The one you had had for the past twenty-seven years. And you weren’t in it. The out-of-body mindfuck is all too much for the weak state of your brain. You double over and release a drawn-out groan, your new body reminding you of the hangover nausea with a dull, throbbing ache in your head as if this couldn’t get any worse.

In your huddled form, you take a moment to play out the consequences of this revelation. If you’re not in your body and Jungkook is nowhere to be found…

Realisation wrapping itself slowly enough. A body swap?

You contemplate just how on earth to react to this. You silently chuckle, your body shaking as you shake your head in incredulity. Of all people, it had to be you to have to deal with something as bizarre as if. On top of all your projects, your deteriorating love & social life, at least now there was a paranormal addition to really top it off.

To confirm your suspicion of who exactly you might be inhibiting, you hastily get up from your warmed bed spot to head to the connected bathroom, running so fast you nearly trip over yourself in the process.

Although you had predicted as much, actually witnessing the abnormality of not having your own face when looking into your own reflection is still every bit as shocking. For a brief moment, you wonder just how many people have had to experience such a feeling, such a situation.

Jungkook is every bit as handsome even in a fresh-out-of-bed state. His dark hair tousled and unkempt from a cruel, unexpected night of sleep and whatever antics had occurred just before that, chapped lips and a dried streak of drool by his chin. You can only just stare at the reflection in both horror and awe, too scared to make a movement and have him copy.

All you can do in your daze of disbelief is wait for your own body to wake up and see how Jungkook responds.

As if directly answering your curiosity, there is a sudden scream from the bedroom. You rush in to find yourself – Jungkook? – staring into the front camera of his phone. You imagine that his parted-lip, furrowed-brow expression is near the mirror image of what you first looked like.

“J-jungkook?” you gingerly call out.

Dark, distraught eyes meet yours in response. “What the hell is going on?” he demands in what was once your voice. “I have boobs. And I’m… you.” He looks as though he’s about to cry and for one small second, you take offence to how distraught he is by having your face.

You look incredulously at him. “You think I have any idea about this?” Motioning at your face and then to him in reference. Everything is moving far too fast for you to get a proper grasp at comprehending how to handle with this. In your depleted state, you reluctantly move to sit beside him in the bed.

A blanket of silence falls over the room as the two of you are too immersed in your own silent thoughts of fright and bewilderment. You feel the bed shift slightly as Jungkook properly sits up.

“So… we’ve swapped bodies?” He finally asks.

Taking a gulp, you can only nod as you turn to him. “I-I think that’s what’s happened.” In retrospect, before going to his apartment and letting him insert his penis into your vagina, you should’ve perhaps spent more time figuring this guy out. For all you knew or could care to remember was that he was a young music producer. “Out of curiosity, does this happen to you every time you have sex?”

The question doesn’t bode well, apparently too light hearted for the current dread that was occupying the atmosphere because Jungkook looks like he’s taken offence to it. “No,” he responds tightly. “Does it happen to you?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Never.”

There is yet another pregnant pause in the conversation. It seems there is still some processing being done, as there would for such an atypical position. “Well, what do we do now?”

Moping around Jungkook’s apartment won’t make any much of a difference. Despite this, you still each had lives to go on with. After a deep inhale, you stand up. “I suppose we could on with our schedule as per usual.”

Jungkook blinks at you once, and then again. “You really are going to work after something like this? How the fuck are we going to do this? Can’t you just call in sick?”

Memories of highlighted deadlines pop into your head, causing a gush of worry to fizz through you. Adamantly, you shake your head. “No, you have to go in my place,” you say leaving little room for debate. “I can’t slack or I’ll have Seokjin lighting a fire in my ass,” you add, taking on a more pleading tone. One piece of advice; never date your superviser. “The projects, the deadlines, the filing; I can’t slack on it.”

Even in the midst of bad decisions, it seems as though your choice in men wasn’t too shabby since you saw his stubborn resolve quickly dissipate under your beseeching gaze. He shakes his head, giving in. “Okay, so if I do go in, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“It’s an office job, Jungkook. It doesn’t demand the IQ of a genius, so long as you know how to use Microsoft excel. Hell, I lied about knowing how to use it on the resume. If there are any questions then ask Somin.”

“And what am I going to wear? You want to walk into an office in your clubbing outfit and indirectly tell everyone that you got drunk and lucky last night?”

The vulgarity of his words brings about a heated flush to your face as you falter to reply at the first attempt. “Don’t you have an ex’s clothes lying about somewhere?”

Jungkook can only snort. “Yes, because I certainly have nothing better to do than keep souvenirs of my past endeavours.”

You glare at him for second or so.

“You were so much nicer when you wanted in on my vagina,” you concede and fold your arms, not finding the energy to quarrel in your newly male state. This morning had been the epitome of disasters, one you wouldn’t even have imagined could happen. You couldn’t even have a one night stand without having something severely fuck up.

“Yeah, well I have my own now which is great,” Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat in the repartee, his sharp words dripping with sarcasm as he rolls his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse my mood since I don’t have my own penis anymore.”

“It wasn’t even that great anyways. I don’t know what you’re so sad about.” You shrug.

Offence is clear on his features (or should you say your own?). “I’m sorry, what was that? Oh, don’t you need me to go to work and do your boring job? Actually, that’s perfect. I don’t feel too well anymore now that you mention it.”

A sigh of defeat escapes you. Exchanging insults wouldn’t get you anywhere and seeing as this wasn’t an issue that couldn’t be fixed within a few moments, ruining your relationship with Jungkook as quickly as it had started didn’t seem like the best option.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to berate you but this is just as fucked up for me as it is for you, okay? But you could cooperate with me then that’d be greatly appreciated.”

Seeing beyond reason isn’t entirely crossed out in Jungkook’s books it seems because his expression turns to something that looks considerate. “I guess I’m partly at fault too,” he admits.

Glad to get past that hiccup, you nod easily and make towards Jungkook’s closet. Swinging open the doors, you realise there’s only the smallest variation, white t-shirts, black hoodies and grey sweaters filling up the most of Jungkook’s minimalist closet. “There must be something in here you can wear.”

“Wait, I think I have a cashmere sweater that shrank a little bit,” Jungkook trails off.

“You do?” You instantly abandon your digging efforts and look to him, eyebrows raised. “If so then that’ll be perfect. You can just wear the sweater over the dress and it’ll look like a skirt!” You exclaim. Normally, you’d feel filthy for not showering before work but desperate times call for desperate measures so you try not to dwell on it.

“Sure.” Jungkook looks like he doesn’t necessarily understand your notion but continues to drag himself off the bed, only clad in your bra and panties from last night. The sight makes you cringe. “Jesus, why do your nipples get so hard so easily?” He grumbles sleepily and bends over pull over the white dress left sprawled on the floor.

“Because you’re naked and it’s cold,” you reply blandly, watching him bend down to search through a few drawers before fishing out a charcoal-coloured sweater. “Wear that,” you instruct softly, assuming it’s the sweater he had mentioned before.

“You don’t say.” The cynicism you force yourself to let go in effort to avoid any further quarrels and allow Jungkook to dress himself with the timing of a sloth.

It’s not the cleanest look but it’ll have to do since you’re already late. When he looks over to you for confirmation, you give a quick nod of approval. You take a quick look at the time, already ten minutes pass the usual time you leave the house. Considering that you don’t even know the distance from Jungkook’s place to work, you pick up your phone and send Somin a seemingly normal text to inform her of your tardiness. Nothing mentioning the fact that you were on the hovering suspicion that you had just about lost the plot.

Not more than a minute later, Somin only replies with a winking smiley face to which you grimace at. You consider telling her the rest of the details the issue entailed but thought better of it. She’d think you’re mad.

“Could you perhaps… do this with a little more urgency?” You say, tapping your foot impatiently. Still in just a pair of boxers, you probably weren’t in the position to be hurrying Jungkook.

“Unless you want me to walk into the office and offend everyone with morning breath and unbrushed hair, you’re going to have to give me a minute.”

As Jungkook heads to the bathroom to fix on exactly that, you spent the time pulling on a pair of black jeans from the identical array he neatly had stacked. Next, you slipped on a thin white t-shirt which again was one of the masses. Working as a music producer probably didn’t have as a formal dress code, you imagined and therefore put less effort into looking the part.

Once he emerged from the bathroom, having spent the time freshening up, you gave him a satisfied smile at the sight of tamed hair and un-chapped lips.

“We should arrange a meet up during the lunch break at the cafe beside my studio,” he speaks up. “So, we can have a proper conversation on how to fix this thing,” Jungkook gestures between the two of you. “You’re going to the studio, right?”

“I’m not just going to wallow about in your apartment,” you respond.

Jungkook arches a brow at that, angling his head to look at you. “Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean, do you even know how to produce music?”

“Nope,” you say with enough confidence. “But how hard can it be? I just fiddle with some button and sounds and that should be enough for the time being.”

It earns a scoff from Jungkook as he struggles to slip on the simple heels. “If you need some help with it just ask Yoongi or better yet, call me.”

“Yoongi?”

“I work with him in the studio for the most part so he’s always there. We work as duo so he can help you out if you wanna know anything but be discreet, at the very least. I don’t need him thinking I’ve lost the plot.”

“That I can do,” you nod affirmatively, internally still thinking what exactly will be so hard about pressing buttons and making sounds.

Being Jungkook is still awfully new having found out only about two hours ago, not to mention unsettling, for you but you know it’s not like you can go into hiding until the situation was fixed (which still remained a mystery as for now). You were not used to driving an automatic, or used to standing up and aiming to pee, or even wearing skinny jeans to work but alas, this was Jungkook and so for the time being, all you could do was get used to it.

You glance down to the text from Jungkook before returning your eyes back to the sight of the studio you had parked in front of, making sure you weren’t intruding into somewhere. The casual nod the receptionist offers you as she buzzes you in nearly makes you faint. 

You’re Jungkook. An attractive, young music producer and you have no idea how to make music. Great. The elevator journey is spent nearly entirely on a quick, panicked search of ‘introdyctipn to creeatingh mukic’  to which you learn nearly nothing due to the bad service except a recap on musical notes you faintly remembering being taught at one point in middle school.

Little before you know it, the ding for floor seven arrives and you rush out in an awkward manner having just realised that’s your studio. For now, anyways. To calm yourself, you inhale deeply as you inspect the layout of the floor. It’s a quality label, you’ve come to realise with the professional, clean set out and laid back atmosphere that faintly smells of coffee. The elevator opens up into hallway, deep purple, velveted walls with a sleek black-tiled floor.

Understanding dawns upon you, realising how he can pay for that penthouse of his.  

Studio Fourteen you remind yourself as you begin to search, reading each studio number as they pass. The some of the names indented beneath the signs are even recognisable. 

You don’t miss the records and awards hung in between the studios, proud displays of the probably very talented producers behind the doors. It looks so sleek and professional, the hallway nearly completely silent due to soundproof materials within the walls, you assume. In a heartbeat, you can admit this workplace is better than your loud, bustling office you work at, in that cubicle that isn’t even a separate room.

As the memories of your workplace are conjured, feeling so distant and long ago despite it only being yesterday, your thoughts are diverted to Jungkook. You wonder how well he must be faring, dealing with Somin on the right and Alex on the left who’s actions probably breached the harassment rule, considering how many times he had offered you a relationship of the sorts outside of office hours. You find yourself grinning at the thought of Jungkook having to deal with that sort of change.

On the other hand, you could get used to this. A soundproof studio where all you had to do was press some buttons and deal with a guy who had never met before, who was probably a professional by the looks of where he worked. How hard could it be? You learnt the keyboard in ninth grade, although you had forgotten basically everything, you supposed to wouldn’t take long to consolidate your knowledge.

“Uh, Jungkook, why are you staring at Jessi’s studio door?” You hear a male call out, disrupting the silence and your thoughts.

At first, you almost don’t respond, not used to being called by a name that isn’t yours, until it hits you that that’s exactly what your name is for the time being. You startle and turn to the stark blond male, a very delayed reaction but he only raises his eyebrows at you.

You take a quick second to analyse this new face. His ruffled flaxen hair being the most attention-grabbing feature, you take care to look at the rest. Judging by a glance, the man is thinner and shorter than Jungkook. His features are soft, feline almost, are contorted in a bored look as he stares upon you and you decide that he is definitely not unattractive but he’s also Jungkook’s partner so you don’t push the thought further. 

“Uh, Yoongi?” You gingerly ask, unsure if this is the partner Jungkook earlier spoke of but seeing the matching description of blond hair, you feel like this isn’t a bad guess.

The blond man scoffs at your hesitation. “Hurry up and get in here, you’re already late, Kook.” He then disappears into the studio, leaving you slightly perturbed by his blunt mannerisms.

If he was the man Jungkook worked day in and day out with, you guessed that were would be some lacking of formalities. For him, for you, this was supposed to be just another day as a hot music producer. You inhale a deep breath for the umpteenth time before following into studio fourteen.

The set out is normal, although you must note have a very narrowed idea of ‘normal’ considering this is the first studio you’ve ever physically set foot in. Normal, for you, meaning it looked like how they did in the movies which by anyone’s standards is then deemed as not too darn shabby. You let your eyes roam the rectangular room, gently shutting the door behind you.

You’re not exactly how to ‘be’ Jungkook, per say. Your whole idea of him is also fairly narrow, showcasing him to be either a very smooth-talking and comforting boy-next-door you barely remember speaking to in a nightclub or a downright asshole.

“So, uh,” you begin in a timid voice as your blonde partner takes a seat in one of the swivelling chairs, not wasting any time in starting up whatever system was laid out in front of him. “What are we doing today?”

God, that sounded like the dumbest fucking thing you could say. Making music, duh.

Yoongi, who’s already slipping on his headphones, pauses to look at you, confirming what you’ve said is probably not best choice of words. “How many drinks did you have yesterday?”

“Why?”

“Because you look like shit and you just asked that... so my guess would then be, a lot.” Yoongi expertly swivels his swivelling chair all the way to you, although you’re not quite sure why he couldn’t just get up and walk to you. In his hand, he holds a thin wad of paper and offers it to you. “I get you’re living your life as an attractive, young man but please remember that we have to produce at least thirty demos for that rapper’s debut album by the start of next month so perhaps don’t get too carried away, okay?”

Gently, you pluck the wad from his grasp and take a look at the contents. Compositions of the sorts and in other words, complete gibberish since you can’t differentiate a B minor from a B major because you don’t really know what B was in the first place. Alas, this is your job for the time being and you’ll soldier through it somehow, so you try to make an expression that looks like you know exactly what it reads and not like you have no fucking idea. Just for show.

“This is…?”

Carding musician-worthy fingers through his hair with a harsh sigh falling from his lips, you get the feeling he’s starting to lose his patience with you. It’s quite unfair. Jungkook gets to hang out with that airhead Somin who probably doesn’t give a flying shit about whether you know what you’re doing and you get this grumpy asshole who looks like he’s about to manifest into something that’s a little more threatening than the thin, pale guy that he is.

“The most recent compositions you’ve produced this month. Did you hit your head and get amnesia, dude? We’re on a tight schedule here so try not to slack.”

The irritance he clearly speaks with makes your lips twitch but you silently nod and take the over swivelling seat. But as you make your way, you can’t help but let out a quiet, “Don’t have to be so rude about it.”

In spite of your effort to keep it to yourself, Yoongi picks up on it but whilst you expect him to half rip your head off and eat it, you instead notice his features soften. Just the slightest bit. “I’m sorry for being an asshole, Kook, you know me when I’m stressed,” he says.

The thing is, you don’t know but again you nod and let yourself dwell on how you’re going to do this. WikiHow it is, then.

_

Jungkook has had just about fucking enough. These last ten minutes in the building have been quite the rollercoaster from him. Once upon a time, he could dial in and get coffee, his usual Godiva blend, delivered to his room by that hot assistant he just might’ve fucked in the toilets at one specific staff christmas party. Now? Now he had to haul his has all the way to the other end of the floor to get it.

And between him getting up and him getting his coffee, he had several obstacles to overcome. That Somin or whatever her name was had been haggering him ever since he stepped a foot into the building would make the effort to distract him, there was Alex who’s effort in making a conversation made Jungkook feel oddly comfortable in a body that wasn’t even his own, causing him to tug down on his dress on several occasions, and then countless other people who had each shrugged their own bits of paperwork onto Jungkook to deal with. After that trip, he was far too scared to dare make one for the toilet.

He doesn’t have one clue. And the confining walls of this cubicle and the lack of Yoongi’s presence are just about going to be the death of him. The only good part of this entire day was that he could touch your, slash temporarily his, boobs whenever he felt like it. Sitting in his chair, staring aimlessly at the desktop in front of him, Jungkook again indulges in the pleasure of groping his chest before releasing a dramatised sigh and dropping his head to the desk in despair.

On top of all of this bullshit, Jungkook has an album to co-produce that’s due next month and he has that girl stuck in his body, setting him back with probably not one given fuck on what to do. He can’t exactly blame her though, looking at his current position. Was it bad that he had partly forgotten her name? Y/N.. or something like that?

Well, he certainly had learnt a lot more about her job. The proprietorship company was some pet-food related stuff and she worked within the treasury. Tillating. He had done enough google searches to complete his idea of what exactly being part of the treasury management meant. Some of the tasks burdened on his shoulders proved to be somewhat simple, so he focused on them first in an aim to distract the ever-building distress that had arisen when he first realised he has a two holes instead of one. The better half of the uber here was spent on figuring out what sort of bad deeds he had committed that would create such a comeuppance to his being.

However, a distraction is not necessarily possible with Somin to his right. Her head pears over the small barrier and Jungkook feels the need to groan at the sense of her presence.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” she says above, her acrylic nails tapping along the thin barrier that separated them. “You don’t respond to my texts from last night, end up wearing the same dress as yesterday night and have the audacity to not speak a word about it.”

Reluctantly, Jungkook pushes himself away from his desk to slowly look up to the women he had already grown to despise. “Continue.” He muffles a yawn.

“Do I need to elaborate? Spill.”

A wrinkle appears on his forehead as Jungkook tries to figure out what exactly this girl wants to know before it suddenly dawns on him that this was the girl who sat with you before he came over and fucked both of your lives up. “Ohhh, you wanna know what happened?”

Somin looks at him as though he’s a complete idiot. “Duh, dumbass.”

“Well.” He clears his throat and strokes his chin, attempting to recall back on the blurred account he had from last night. “Well, um, we spoke for a while and ordered shots then we made it back to my- I mean his place.”

“And?” She pushes him to continue.

“And we had sex. Wait, wasn’t that a bit obvious?”

Rolling her eyes, she then leans forward an inch to manage to flick Jungkook on the head.  Emitting a yelp of surprise mixed with the unexpected pain that caused, he regards her bitterly. “Give me the fucking details!”

“No! Why are you such a perv?” Sure, Jungkook might spill a few pieces explicit content to Yoongi and the guys in the studio but retelling it to a girl whom he, till now, had never met before? He internally cringes.

“Did you take an aspirin yet? Y/N, this is how we communicate. We tell eachother every detail of our sexual rendezvous’ so - was he a good fuck or not? I did not waste my time last night to have you go home with a guy that can’t beat cheeks up properly.”

Jungkook lets himself dwell on this information, a Cheshire Cat grin beginning to develop on his face. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. Now that you mention, Jungkook was probably the best fuck I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he begins to dramatically retell as Somin grows more and more satisfied with his showy recounts. It feels odd to speak of himself in something that isn’t a first person recount of him but the expression Somin wears is more than enough to keep him going.

It isn’t a total load of bullshit that he’s spewing. Sure, it was no porno with purely vaginal orgasms and crazy, gymnastic-worthy positions but Jungkook thought it was a relatively good fuck despite not remembering most of it due to the amount of alcohol he had taken in beforehand. Doggy Style and Girl On Top were the few remaining memories he still possessed and yeah, an eight out of ten by his standards which was pretty rare.

By the time he’s finished is embellished story, Somin is practically foaming at the mouth and Jungkook begins to wonder if she is some weird perv. “This is so great for you! It’s your first step in getting over Seokjin.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook’s features stay blank. “Seokjin?”

Somin frowns at his lack of response. “You know, Seokjin…?” She pauses, nodding at him.

Feigning some sort of recognition, Jungkook nods along. “Ohh, him. Sure, sure. He’s my, uh…”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Somin finishes off the sentence for him with her brows knitted, slightly confused by his weird actions.

Jungkook clicks his fingers, “Of course. Ugh, last night was just so good that I forgot about him entirely,” he quickly saves the discourse.

She snorts at that but buys it at least. “Anywho, I was thinking of getting a Subway for lunch, you wanna come?”

God, no. Jungkook certainly does not. He’s still trying to figure out if his pee and shit come out from the same hole. But this girl is who he’s stuck next to for a good eight slash nine hours every day till he figures out how to break the laws of science once more, so he figures it’s rather inappropriate to flip her off and tell her to leave him alone. Plus, she’s Y/N’s friend, he adds on as an afterthought.

“Uh, now that you mention it, I planned to spend lunch with someone I need to speak to so maybe tomorrow, yeah?”

Somin tilts her head to an angle with a bemused expression, apparently not used to being rejected for lunch outings from Y/N. “Who’s taken my place?”

Fuck, Y/N had it easy. Min Yoongi was a man of not many words when consumed with his work so she was probably having a breeze learning the differences between a minim and a semibreve. Unlike himself, feeling more so like an malefactor than an office worker, with these imprisoning cubicle walls and the interrogator herself situated just beside him.

“Uh, that guy from last night. I left something at his house and he said we could meet up at a cafe for lunch,” Jungkook weakly explains as he reaches to scratch the back of his neck, a habit that often showed up during his nervous situations.

At that, Somin’s face lightens up visibly. Knowing her, the reason behind her elation is probably something to do with it being her work that set you up with a guy that finally broke your dry spell. A heartwarming intention, and you obviously love her and would quite possibly die for Somin but the only thing that Jungkook can currently appreciate is her naivety.

She giggles, leaning into the thin barrier with such reliance that it threatens to fall over before she catches herself from letting it happen just before Jungkook’s panic begins to truly arise. “You’re such a minx,” Somin sighs. Jungkook doesn’t really know or care for what that means but he goes along with it, something he’s been doing pretty much since he woke up, and smiles in return. “I love it. You gotta tell me afterwards, though. I mean, you guys might even become something more.”

And with that suppressed parting squeal, Somin returns back to her own quarters. A breath Jungkook didn’t know he was holding escapes him. Moments of silence pass as he aimlessly watches out of the window behind his desktop before he leans forward to bury his face in his hands in pure disparity, resigning himself to this fate

Four hours. Four full hours you had to spend in the room with not a single clue of how to conduct yourself and by the time you’d reached the cafe, you were half convinced you've developed claustrophobia within that time.

The wafting aroma of coffee and the sight of worn-out, empty cushions are like a breath of fresh air to you and whilst there is obviously much to be desired, you feel oddly at home in this low-maintenance cafe in comparison to the sumptuosity the record label’s building oozed.

Jungkook had beaten you to it, sitting comfortably in a place nicely tucked into the corner, his head tilted downwards to look at his phone. It catches you off guard because, of course, it’s technically your head and so you’ll need a little bit of getting used to see your face in anywhere but your reflection. Without trying to draw attention, you take a beeline towards the corner and sit down, finally earning the attention of the man trapped inside a woman’s body.

“You’re five minutes late.”

“Oh, hi Jungkook. I’m doing okay, thanks. It was really lovely for you to ask since I’m in your work place and could’ve been up to just about anything,” you say in an avidly enthusiastic voice, causing the man to raise both eyebrows at you.

“I take that you’re faring well then, at least,” he says in your voice, lacking energy and sounding partially dead. Apparently, he hadn’t recovered from his mood this morning.

You give him a look of disapproval. “Have you been like this all morning?”

He spares you a brief glance. “Like what?”

“A lifeless asshole?”

“How can I not be?!” Jungkook retorts with a sudden show of emotion in his voice. It’s sharp and sardonic but you appreciate it more than the miserable and unresponsive tone he first spoke with. “God, you really weren’t kidding when you said that your job was shit. Why does that girl talk so much?”

You try to find a scintilla of offense taken but there is none since he’s not too far off from the truth you can’t even deny yourself. “Who, Somin?”

Jungkook’s expression darkens at the name, almost as though it pains him. “I’m going to request a cubicle change if I have to put up with her any longer than a day.”

Stiffening at his proclamation, you widen your eyes. “No, wait, don’t!” The sudden increase of volume earns a few head turns from the two young ladies behind the counter, who are probably thinking this is some sort of oddly-timed break up. “Try to be amiable with her, please? She can sometimes,” Jungkook snorts at the choice of word, “be a little overbearing but she’s really, really lovely. And not to mention sensitive, so don’t be mean to her, okay?”

Even though you yourself sometimes have a difficult time sitting beside the girl, you wouldn’t do anything in the world to really hurt her, like request a seat change. Oh, God, no, her heart would positively just about break at that. You reach for Jungkook’s hands, the man finding it odd how stuck you are on it, and encase them in your new, very large ones.

“Promise me you won’t do that.”

“Are you guys… more than friends or something?”

Your face turns into one of perplexion before you understand what he implies. “Oh, no, I just… really care for her, platonically.” When Jungkook’s expression remains unconvinced, you sigh. “She’s my best friend and I don’t have many friends, let alone best friends, so I’d really appreciate you don’t ruin that relationship. Deal with her for me… please?”

“I barely know you.”

“You knew me enough to stick your penis in me.”

“I stick my penis in a lot of people, don’t think you’re special,” he stubbornly responds, indifferent. You feel a small prick of hurt at his words, once again reminded you’re just a one night stand gone wrong. And to think, you thought you could’ve been his friend.

Pinching his hand with your newfound strength, Jungkook yelps and pulls his hands away in surprise. “Well, you won’t be sticking anything in anyone anytime soon so I suggest you keep me happy if you want this disgustingly attractive body back. God, you’re such an asshole.”

Jungkook’s stoic resolve breaks at your genuinity and he rolls his eyes but nevertheless, you sense the acceptance he’s conceded himself to. “Fine but I need you to remember I’m only human.”

You beam now that’s been dealt with as one of the ladies behind the counter arrives with two seeing hot cups of tea, nodding as you offer her a quick thanks. When she’s a good distance away from your table, you continue the conversation. “Did you manage to find out what our… condition is exactly?”

Across the table, Jungkook shakes his head with an aura of despondency. “I tried googling it but all that came up were some weird Quora answers. I’m afraid we’re a bit stuck.”

The tea is scalding on your tastebuds but you take a sip of it anyways, ignoring the lingering sting as you nod. “But there has to be some explanation, even if it isn’t scientific. These things don’t just happen out of nowhere.” Silence falls over the two of you like a blanket as you both let yourselves dwell further on the issue before you click your fingers. “Do you have any friends that are… like, mystics or old-school alchemists or whatever? The weird spiritual type.”

“Hm, let me think,” Jungkook goes along with the suggestion since he has none of his own and has partially accepted this is some type of punishment for being a bad person, if he even is one. The plus side to being an avid socialiser and partially well-known music producer is that he has plenty of contacts. “Oh, shit, I think I do. There’s this guy that lives somewhere on the eastside and he’s all into that.”

Eyes bulging out of their sockets, you for once thank your poor luck. “You think he’ll have something we can work with?”

“Not sure but anything helps, right?” He shrugs, appearing not as excited by the prospect as you do.

You nod avidly as a flower of hope blooms within you. “So when do you want to visit this guy?”

“Tonight, I guess. We’re better off having this over and done with as soon as possible so I’ll call him up and see if he’s down for it. Kim Taehyung is a pretty busy guy.”

“Really?” You ask with a doubtful look.

“Yeah. White people really dig that tantric stuff so he gets business,” Jungkook admits with a flippant wave as he takes his first gulp of the now-cooler drink. “But I’m sure he can fit us in.” He stays quiet for a bit before glancing back up to you, aimlessly watching outside the window. “Are you finding the studio okay?”

A grim expression surfaces as you recall the experience. “I’m learning stuff and trying to figure out what all those buttons mean but your friend is a pain in the ass. I’m three naggings away from beating his ass all the way to hell and back.”

“Ah, Yoongi,” Jungkook recognises with a pleasant snort. “He can be a bit much but you’ll learn to deal with him.”

“Yeah, I doubt it.” Throwing your head back for added effect, you pinch your nose. “He got angry at me because I asked him who Rap Monster was. Like it’s my fucking fault! Why would I ever know someone with a stage name like that in the first place? So I had to run a little wikipedia background check on him.”

“Rap Monster?” Repeating your words, Jungkook widens his eyes when hit with realisation and buries his head in his hands. “Fuck, I completely forgot we have him booking for a recording session tomorrow!”

“Oh, great,” you say with feigned enthusiasm. “I’m definitely looking forward to that. No, really, his songs sound… creative.”

Your attempt at dry humour doesn’t help his sullen mood when he looks up but instead earns an intense glare. “Are you even fucking bothered by this? We’re experiencing something that doesn’t even fucking exist and by the looks of it, I’m the only one that’s worried by this. Quit acting like a child. We could be stuck in each others bodies forever and you’re joking around?” He adds a scoff whilst running a hand through his hair, his frustration becoming even more visible.

Irritation flares within you. This entire day he’s had a huge chip on his shoulder, and whilst you resonate with that and can understand, there’s no reason to aim it so viciously at you. “Of course, I’m fucking bothered! But guess what, Jungkook? I’m not going to start being a little bitch to everyone because I’m acting like an adult and can deal with tough situations without acting like I have a stick shoved all the way up my ass.” You don’t think before you respond just as accusingly, your voice growing louder than you intended to and clear hurt written all over your face. “It’s not my fault we’re like this so you should stop hating me like it is! At least I’m trying to be your friend. After this is over, you can act like I don’t exist for for now you have to learn to work with me.”

The change in atmosphere is more than evident and you feel embarrassment begin to kick in as you notice the few customers and workers once again discreetly looking your way, mumbling things. Jungkook bites his lip like he’s caught in some soliloquy of his own before he deflates with defeat. He’s about to say something when you interject, “And I’m sorry that I might come across insincere but you need to know that I’m really bummed out by this turn of events. I want one crummy orgasm and I end up in a dude’s body; I don’t need this either. I’ll try to stop being so damn funny but you need to agree to stop being such a Debbie Downer!” Tears begin to spring in your eyes, glossy as your bottom lip begins to wobble.

“Hey, hey, stop it, people are looking,” Jungkook whispers when he’s caught onto the attention and inhales deeply. “Look, I get it, I’m being an ass and I need to stop. It’s just- you’re really freaking me out. You don’t know anything about my job and you’re joking about it where, in reality, I could end up getting fired for the incompetency. I really need you to take this seriously and it’s freaking me out. Plus you’re making me looking weird,” he says and gestures to the rest of the people who still glance at the two of you every so often.

You sniff and intensely rub at your eyes to fix your state. Jungkook genuinely looks scared when you return his gaze and you start to feel sorry for him. God, it must be annoying to be so young and fresh with such a promising career and having it suddenly ruined with a body swap with a completely dumbass like you of all people. “Okay,” you breathe out and wet your lips. “I’ll try to take your job more seriously.”

“Thank you.” He visibly relaxes at your promise and leans back into his chair. “I’ll try not be a… Debbie Downer, did you say?” There’s the slightest hint of amusement on Jungkook’s face as he tilts his head in question.

“Look, I was sad and didn’t want to cuss in front of the old ladies,” you argue with a side look to the grey haired two behind the counter who kept sending concerned glances towards your table. “And, thanks. Took you long enough.”

And for once, there’s some sense of amiability in the air between the two of you, something there hasn’t been an awful lot of, so you appreciate the shared grin. However, the comforting post-argument moment is quickly dispelled when Jungkook looks at his watch and gasps. “You should be back at work by now!” He exclaims and gets up in a blur of hurry, grabbing his coat and the untouched sandwich to keep for later. Stumbling behind him, you get your things.

“Be back at mine straight after work so we can head to Tae’s,” he reminds you, opening the door.

“I didn’t even get to eat anything!” You call out behind him in a whine as Jungkook fumbles with his phone to order an Uber. Thankfully, you only have a five minutes walk ahead of you with these new long and muscular legs.

He humphs, watching you speed walk away, “That’s because you talk too much,” he finally responds but you’re already well out of sight by then. You manage to hear his response, although, you don’t think he heard you laugh.

You arrive back at Jungkook’s place in a hurry. The rest of the time spent in the studio with Yoongi was not as draining as the first half after you began to understand the odd few musical terminologies and got used to your temporary partner’s mood and dry humour. Although you’ve convinced yourself another week or so in this situation won’t do much damage, you can’t deny the excitement that’s been simmering in you at the thought of fixing this tonight with the help of Jungkook’s friend - Tayoung or something like that?

It’s a huge weight off your shoulders the moment Jungkook opens the door, finally granted some privacy without day-to-day life interfering. A lazy greeting is all you can mumble before collapsing onto a sofa.

“Long day, huh? How was it?” Jungkook asks after hearing your theatrical sigh as he leans against the kitchen countertop with his arms crossed. You had almost forgotten that the kitchen and living room interconnect like those chic upstate apartment blocks.

You only nod, appreciating the comforting silence that hangs in the air after hours of listening to the hundreds of stupid sound effects Yoongi had bombarded you before insisting you insert some into the tracks. If you ever heard one more ‘skrr’ again, you might just drop dead. “I’m still getting used to aiming.” The image of your mess pops up into your head and you cringe. Jungkook grimaces ocne he catches onto what sort of aiming you’re talking about. “But I’ve been getting better so don’t worry. I also learned what some of those buttons do so Yoongi isn’t being as much of an ass as he was in the morning. You?”

Your vague recount satisfies Jungkook, judging by how his brooding expression is not as intense as it once was earlier in the day.

“The things I have to do are pretty simple so it’s not too bad, actually. Whenever I get a bit confused, Somin helps me out so it’s safe to say I don’t completely hate your friend anymore.” His change of heart is enough to bring a smile to your face, you knew you could count on her. Even though this whole ordeal was technically her fault but who would guess this could happen? “Yeah, there’s not much you can say about sitting in front of a spreadsheet all day but you don’t need to worry about losing your job because of me. Anyways, I texted Tae and he said he’s free at seven. It’s six thirty now and it takes half an hour to drive to the other side of town so, get up.” He gracefully chucks you your coat you discarded only moments ago.

A drawn out groan is your first response as you throw your head back in irritation. “I just wanna sleep,” you whine as Jungkook tugs you up with visible struggle. “I barely had enough sleep last night.”

His useless tugging at your arm halts for a second when he gives you a bored look. “You were the one that insisted for a round two and kept us up.”

“That was my first time have sex in months, do you blame me?” You hurl back. Nonetheless, you painfully heave yourself up, no thanks to Jungkook’s help, and slip on your still-warm coat. “Anyways, do you really think he can figure this out?”

“He told me he knows a ton of shit about weird stuff like this so I’ll take his word for it,” Jungkook reluctantly admits with a yawn, scratching the back of his neck. He doesn’t seem nearly as convinced as you hoped he’d be but the idea was a long shot. This guy, despite as much as a spiritual passion he might claim he had, could be an old ugly con man. But then again, thinking about the guy Jungkook was, you doubted he’d be in company of someone like that.

Even as physically and mentally drained as you currently are, you spend a good few moments considering how many theoretical lotteries of life Jungkook has won; he’s incredibly attractive, has a pretty dick, young as well but owns a nice place and has a well-paying job. Sleeping with you was probably just a normal night for no-strings-attached sex and here you were, messing up things you didn’t even know you could mess up. Now he was stuck in your body and had to live your life, which, to the average person, wasn’t necessarily terrible but you know he must hate it. You can’t help but feel more sorry for him than you do for yourself.

Shrugging his hand away, you make your way towards the door. “Ladies first,” you say lightly, which is enough to earn a glare from Jungkook but he takes lead anyways.

You had high hopes for a silent car ride, giving you the chance to catch up on thirty minutes of lost sleep but apparently Jungkook’s mood had done something like a one eighty spin and he suddenly felt the need to talk without end. “This is one of the songs we produced that stayed on the charts for seven weeks,” he continues with blatant pride and reaches to turn the sound up.

 You’ve barely taken in more than a sentence of his blabbering but the consistent rise in volume from the audio player was a minute away from causing you to defenestrate yourself. Although, this is the first time he’s been so vocally enthusiastic since the incident and you wouldn’t dare to jeopardize something so rare.  “Yoongi didn’t think the backing vocals-”

“Jungkook, I have a small migraine so if we could just-” you slowly move to turn the sound down, carefully figuring out what topic you’re going to jump to. “Whilst we’re stuck in this traffic, we should lay out some ground rules.”

Not affected by your tactical switch of topic, you internally celebrate when he nods without further argument. “Okay,” he says with slow enunciation, “I’ll go first. Move in with me.”

Your posture stiffens. “What?” He couldn’t be serious.

“It makes sense. We need to be around each other more to be able to deal with this… thing a little more aptly if this takes more than a while to fix. We can’t really coordinate our lives if you’re all the way somewhere else. So, for the time being, you should move to my place and settle in the spare bedroom,” Jungkook explains like it’s not a major step and the two of you haven’t spent the better half of the day bickering relentlessly.

But when you dither on the proposal, it doesn’t seem entirely inappropriate. You and Jungkook will have to work accordingly to keep each other’s daily routine intact and living a lengthy twenty minutes away from him didn’t scream convenience. Yet such commitment and involvement inevitably did cause your stomach to stirr. You bite down on your lip and the metaphorical bullet and nod. “Okay, done.”

“Cool. On the way back we’ll stop at your’s to pick up whatever you need and bring it over.”

“Shit, Somin,” you begin and wince. “She comes over to mine after work on most days. What do I tell her?”

Jungkook hums in contemplation, eyes still trained on the road ahead of him as his taps his fingers along the steering wheel. “Make something up. Say a pipe or something burst on your floor or they’re doing renovations and you have to stay at your parents’ place whilst they get it done.”

Whilst he thinks his plan is foolproof, you, on the other hand, are far less convinced as you turn to give him a helpless look. “She’s, like, bestfriends with my mom and dad. She’ll come back to theirs after work either way,” you sigh and stare out the window. A week of sunshines and the odd few clouds, the sudden show of rain seems like just another effort the universe makes to mock you and your horrible fate.

“She sounds like a stalker more than a best friend,” Jungkook comments in a dry tone.

You poke him in the side, half for Somin and the other half to bring his attention back to the now-moving traffic. You ignore his yelp and continue, “Shush, she’s nice. She’s better than any man could ever be.”

“So why don’t you go date her then?” He doesn’t skip a beat, looking at you incredulously. “She might as well be attached to your fucking hip.”

That earns another jab to the ribs and this time Jungkook only wordlessly sends you one of his trademark glares. “Because I do this thing called loving and cherishing my best friends! I don’t need romance to keep me happy. Unlike some people, who actively seek out women in clubs and trick them with a facade of an easy going personality until you wake up and find out they’re an absolute jerk. But I won’t name drop,” you finish with a light, bordering mocking tone as you fold your arms.

“I’m part of that is due the fact that he never intended to trade bodies in the process,” Forever hung up on that little detail, he rolls his eyes. “Anyways, that’s not seeking romance, that’s seeking sex, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’d have a ton of knowledge in that department. Seeing as any girl or boy would love to date a whole grown ass baby like yourself,” you bite back, your fatigue and hunger sourering your mood even more by the minute. “And is being in my body really that bad?! God, you act like it’s the end of the world or something.” 

You’d thought you’d be more offended by how bluntly he expressed he only looked for a quick fuck in the club but weighing things out, that’s all you wanted as well. At the current moment, you were more offended by how irritated he looked every time he was reminded he wasn't in his. But your body. Not that you could really blame him.

Jungkook catches onto your change in mood quickly enough and shifts as much as he can in his seat to look at you properly, wearing an expression of something that you think is as close to apologetic Jungkook is able to express. “It’s not like that, ____. I’m just really missing my male anatomy and being able to walk in a street without being cat called every five minutes. Speaking of which, do you really have to go through that stuff every day?”

At least he’s reminded you what you miss least of being a female. “Yeah. That’s not the worst that’s happened. A guy started following me once so I went round in circles in busy streets but he still didn’t stop so I had to go into a shop and hide there for an extra thirty minutes but he was waiting outside so I ended up having to pay for an Uber after I reported him to the owner. Fun stuff.”

“Damn,” he says with a whistle before pulling a face. “I couldn’t ever do that.” You raise your eyebrow before he quickly clarifies, “Catcalling, I mean.”

“Oh, that explains. I didn’t think not being a stalker was a characteristic that needed pointing out.” You both laugh at that until the car behind you honks, reminding Jungkook that the light had turned green. “But I’m missing my body a lot too,” you add on as an afterthought, longingly taking in the sight of you. “Especially my boobs.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking good care of them,” Jungkook assures you, putting emphasis on his words by using his free hand to cup a breast. “I think I’ve groped myself like ten times in the past three hours.”

This time, you pull a face, “That’s a little weird. But speaking of bodies, let's put up some boundaries since we’re technically a guest in each other’s body. First of all, you can’t masturbate.”

Although he’s far too busy focusing on turning him, you notice the way his eyes bulge as he splutters for a response. “H-how can you just decide that?” Jungkook glances at you momentarily, his face turning harsh. “Fine, you can’t get off in my body either.”

“Uh, I don’t think so. There’s a difference. When I get turned on, people will be able to see it, Jungkook. And keeping in mind those tight, tight jeans you own, I’m sure that’s committing public indecency to some extent. So, therefore, I should be able to jack off. Stop looking at me like that! It’s not like I want to jack off but there’s a possibility I’ll have to.” 

When you don’t hear any protests, you look to him and study his face. It’s weird but you feel some sense of pity as you take in the way he’s deflated in his seat before you let out a conceding huff. “Fine, you can masturbate in my body as well. Just… be careful.”

The joviality is instantly visible as you grit out the permission. “Holy shit, that might be the only good thing about this.”

“Shut up,” you groan as Jungkook turns into a street full of lavish highrises, filled with apartments you could only guess where inhabited by the elite. Whoever this guy was, his business must’ve been successful if this was where he lived. “But no sex.”

“That, I can agree on,” Jungkook says as he parks up.

“Stop gawking like that, you’re making me look goofy,” Jungkook chastises you as the both of you wait for his friend to answer the door. It’s not like you can help it; you feel worth less than a dollar by simply standing in the hallway of the penthouses for millionaires. The whole place oozed of money, from the marble floors to the mini chandeliers that hang from the ceiling. Not that you had ever been there, but you felt like this was as close a glimpse of inside the Four Seasons hotel you could ever get.

Snapped out of your daze, you huff and Jungkook’s constant pessimism which has quickly reappeared after a five minute break. “You always look goofy,” you say with an unaffected, cool voice which Jungkook still somehow is able to mimic.

“So then, you must be into the goofy type, I gather, considering how-,”

It is a silent blessing that Jungkook is stopped from beginning a new fuss, you thank the divine for that one subtle mercy, by the opening of the large door, emitting a creaking sound throughout the whole hallway. Whatever image of you had envisioned Jungkook’s friend to be, this man was certainly not anything like it. At this point, after meeting Yoongi and now this guy, you’re considering asking Jungkook to host an orgy and invite you, after this whole thing is over, if all his friends are this good looking.

The man is the same height are you (read: Jungkook’s body) but has a thinner build and slightly deeper complexion, you quickly observe from a first glance. His face is angular and his eyes, decorated with gold, circle-lense glasses, are heavy-lidded as though he’s just awoken from a nap. Wearing only silk pajama pants and a robe that’s slipping off one of his shoulders, it leaves a generous amount of tanned skin revealed that you would very much like to take time to properly appreciate but would rather not pop a random, unexplained boner.

“Jungkook!” He exclaims with such a low, velvety voice when his eyes land on you. All you do is give him an acknowledging nod and pained smile. Right, he doesn’t know yet, you assess by the way he acts as though you genuinely are Jungkook. Moving out the way to let you into his home, he slaps your butt as you walk past which took you off guard. His brown eyes slide to the female figure as Jungkook follows you. “And this is?”

“Y/N,” you answer first, your name feeling odd on your tongue in such a situation. You don’t miss the way the guy takes his time to have a proper look at you and you almost lose your act entirely when you consider how uncomfortable Jungkook must feel being checked out by his friend.

“A pleasure,” he says with a small grin as the door shuts behind him, “I’m Taehyung.” You’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’re near drawing blood when you see how awkward Jungkook is in smiling back but you’d rather not break down into yelps of laughter so early on. “Let’s go the living room so you can tell me about whatever it is you needed me for.”

There is a spa-like aroma that follows throughout the whole place, with a scent of what you think might be jasmine, and many creative, slightly weird, accessories decorating the walls. The whole spiritual and tantric thing this guy apparently had going on is beginning to become a bit more believable as you continue to follow him till you reach the living room the looks over the rest of the city. “Geez,” you mumble absent-mindedly as you take in the sight, sitting down on the sofa.

“So, what’s up?” Taehyung speaks and you’re ripped away from your daze.

To explain this is probably the hardest challenge you’ve ever been tasked with. A sudden silence takes over as the two of you both struggle to find the right words to explain. 

Taehyung’s eyes dart between you, and before you’re able to come up with something, he cocks his head to an angle and looks at you disapprovingly, taking a guess. “Jungkook, you did not get her pregnant did you?!”

“What?! No!” You hear Jungkook immediately respond, straightening up in the seat he’s taken beside you. You grimace at the very thought of something so unpleasant - even more so that the actual truth.  “It’s nothing like that,” he quickly corrects, “It’s something a lot… weirder so you need to be a little prepared to hear us out.”

“I’ve had people asking me if I’m interested in partaking in toe fetish tantric sex. Go ahead, honey,” Taehyung urges like he’s not going to be surprised at all, as if he’s seen it all before this.

You bite the bullet. “We’ve swapped bodies.”

Taehyung blinks once and then twice, still wearing that permanent small smile. “Come again?”

“Swapped bodies. As in I’m Jungkook and that,” Jungkook makes a show of pointing to you, “Is Y/N. We don’t know how, and before you ask, no, I haven’t taken acid for months. We just woke up and it was like this and we have no fucking idea how it happened and you’re the only person I know who might have some modicum of experience with this shit.”

The grey haired man looks serious, which puts you at some level of relief instantly. You had prepared yourself for him to roll his eyes and kick you out like drunk teenagers, but instead he sits with a contemplative look about him whilst Jungkook continues to ramble on. “So… you’re not actually Jungkook,” he slowly starts, eyes boring into you before moving onto Jungkook, “... she is.”

Both of you nodding avidly at this basic understanding, Taehyung leans further into his seat and hums in thought, revealing both nipples in the process to which you try your utmost not to stare at. 

“A bodyswap? Hm. I don’t know, man, I’ve never really encountered this. But I might be able to find something to help you out a bit, at the very least,” he says and glances over to the bookshelf that takes up an entire wall before back to you. “So don’t get your hopes up. But whilst I get out some useful material, explain what lead up to this.”

You look at Jungkook expectantly, waiting for him to go on, but the bastard shakes his head and nods to you. With a final glare, you inhale and explain as Taehyung begins to sort through his row of books. “We didn’t really even know each other till the night before it happened. We met at this new club and shared a few drinks before taking it back to Jungkook’s place to, well, take it up a notch,” you gingerly explain.

Taehyung hums along as he listens, pulling out a heavyweight book and then another, before returning to the sofa. “Safe sex, I hope?” He asks as he gives you a waggish grin.

“You know I don’t go in raw on the first time, Tae,” Jungkook easily responds, looking hurt by the very question itself.

He shrugs. “Just checking.” The first book lands on the table with a resounding thud, it’s sheer width larger than probably your own face. Taehyung wets finger before flicking through, diagrams and words you find are completely foreign to you but Taehyung seems to know exactly what he’s looking for so you patiently wait, unable to ignore the rise of anxious thoughts. What if he can’t help?

“Ah!” Catches your attention when Taehyung finally settles on a page with a satisfactory smile. “It reads here that magic that’s intended to modify or completely change a human’s physical state can only be achieved through intake of a liquid or solid substance,” he reads off the page before adjusting his glasses, the handwriting far too small and cursive for you to follow so you listen closely instead. “So, through a food or drink with the magic ingredient, no pun intended, hidden within.”

The other male squints in doubt at the information. “Are you sure this stuff is reliable? Magic, Taehyung?” He scoffs and folds his arm, as if logging off entirely. His nearly instant rejection earns a dirty look from you.

“How on earth do you think something like this happens, Kook? I know you’re not a fan of this stuff but you have to admit, there’s no other explanation and this is possibly the only thing that can help you so I suggest you heed what I say,” Taehyung lightly chides, only momentarily glancing up from his studies to give the other a levelled look. You internally rejoice at the mature admonishing of Taehyung.

“Of course and then we can both sign up for you Dark Arts classes, Professor Snape.”

“Anyways.” He punctuates his words with an eye roll before reaching for the other book and flipping through like he did the first, “That’s as far as the first book divulges about cases similar to your own but if you were questioning how it came about, that should answer it. As for curing it... “ There’s a weighted quietude as you anxiously wait for further information. It goes on for a minute or so before Taehyung continues, not before deflating with a sigh. “I can’t find anything that might fix this. There’s no reverse, and I certainly am no connoisseur of potions so I could barely attempt it if there was one either.”

Jungkook humphs, almost triumphantly despite the bad news. “I told you it wouldn’t make a difference.” This time, you are unable to withhold yourself and give him a gentle whack on the arm.

“Shit. What are we going to do?” You mumble, hopeless, after a few moments, hunching your back as your forehead presses onto your legs as the news properly marinates in your mind.

Your midway figuring out how you’re going to spend the rest of you life living in this body when Taehyung finally speaks. “Not necessarily,” he has a calm voice, far from distress unlike yourself. “I’ve heard of these cases before, despite not actually being involved with one till now.” Curiously, you peek up from your depressive state and Jungkook, thankfully, keeps quiet in the small pause.

“I can tell you that this isn’t something that’s never happened before and I’m confident that this will certainly not be permanent.”

A scintilla of hope slowly retreats to you and you straighten in your seat. Glancing to the boy beside you, you even notice, although he tries hard to hide his interest, he has one eyebrow raised in question. “A-are you sure?” You hesitate.

Taehyung offers you a reassuring smile, and when you search, you detect no mendacity. “Positive, sweetheart. There’s no amount of magic that can carry on for so long, unless you meet Gandalf or something, you’ll live to see yourself back in your body again. Potions always wear off, there’s never one that’s permanent so that’s a positive. For now, I suggest you think back to the moments when you two shared any type of food or drink.”

“The bar. That’s the only time we drank together before this,” you immediately answer, leaning forward.

“So, either one of the bartenders or a random person intercepted your drinks and boom, there’s your culprit. Not that you can prosecute them or anything,” Taehyung says with a light-hearted snort in spite of the atmosphere, tugging his robe up again for it to only slip down once more, as if the laws of science want to see him naked as much as you do.

Jungkook clears his throat, both heads turning to him. “You said this was temporary.”

“Pretty sure, I did,” Taehyung happily agrees.

“How long is temporary, do you think, in this situation? Like, a few days. Maybe a week at max?”

“Ha! A week? That’s funny.” Scratching at the back of his neck, Taehyung’s features contort into a sheepish grin when the two of you stare at him. “Hm. For this to wear off, my rough estimate would be, maybe... six months or so?”

Although you’ve found it hard to agree on nearly anything with Jungkook up till now, you’re certain that you hear the sound of both of your hearts sinking into complete pits despair.

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/a-universe-without-tears/

A Universe Without Tears

A film clip posted on my Facebook page showed a mother beating her two-year-old daughter with a stick.  All the while, the child peered into the woman’s face, her round black eyes terrified yet tearless. No screams emitted from her throat. What was the meaning of this terrified, voiceless submission?  Had the toddler become so accustomed to these beating, she assumed they were normal? At the age of two, had she accepted suffering as her destiny? Unable to rid the image of that tearless face from my thoughts, I thrashed in my bed much of the night wondering what to do. The incident had occurred somewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa. That was all I knew. To whom should I file a complaint? The next morning I returned to Facebook to learn if there was further news about the child.  There was. The mother had been arrested.  The youngster was taken into protective custody.  Happy ending?  Far from it. A lifelong tragedy will unfold for both parent and child. Like the toddler being beaten by her mother, when I see how cruel we humans can be to one another and how the media exploits these tragedies for profit, I, too, am sometimes drained of tears. What a piece of work is man, indeed. This truth, I do accept, however: the universe renews itself by endlessly devouring the present. All life ends in decay.  Accepting this reality doesn’t mean we are helpless. Because we are aware and given our intelligence, we have the power to make our separate peace within the chaos. Instead of wreaking havoc upon each other in a grab for ephemeral power,  instead of struggling to be masters of each other, we could choose to delight in the mystery of the universe. That should be ambitious enough for any lifetime. I delight in artists and scientists because, like children, they live in a state of wonder– a state as close to Nirvana as anyone is likely to reach. If curiosity were a force greater than greed or blind ambition, I am convinced that like the youngster who stands at the ocean’s edge for the first time and feels the power of the waves ebbing and flowing around its ankles, we would walk through life gobstruck. Scientists at the Fermilab, a research center near Chicago that specializes in the study of high-energy particles, were recently gobstruck when they discovered the slight orbital wobble of a muon.   A muon is a particle larger than an electron, which, because of its size, can penetrate matter more deeply than other subatomic particles. Because the muon’s wobble doesn’t conform to the expected norms of physics, the Standard Model,  scientists speculate that other particles, yet to be discovered, are exerting their magnetic force upon it.  If true, that wobble might point to the doorway of other dimensions.  What scientists hope to find if they walk through that doorway will be the building blocks of the universe–the immutable, indivisible, indestructible, and deathless core of existence.  They want nothing less than to discover the particle or force which neither lives nor dies but can create. Anyone visited by consciousness should be awestruck by the prospect. Call it God, if it makes sense to do so, though it has no congruity with religious idols. Nonetheless, for those of us who wish to see a way out of the violent world we have created for ourselves–a world where the remedy for gun violence is more guns; where we support wars to end wars; and where, when we are angered by the hopelessness of poverty,  we beat our children—it would be comforting to know that at the center of it all is a quiet order, one we would do well to emulate. I close this blog with the words of science reporter Virginia Heffernon. Her observation beautifully captures the mystery of existence, a place without tears.  …in spite of all the dying around us, something of all we love might be imperishable, might still flicker and shine or wobble when the rest of our world is gone. (“Muonstruck,” by Virginia Heffernon, Wired, June 2021, pg. 10.)

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 8 - In Which Jack Embarks Upon an Illustrious Career and Anne Needs a Fucking Break

If Anne had thought Jack was annoying as all fuck before, it's got nothing on how he is now that he's decided to actually be a fashion designer instead of just pretending at it and using his money to hide a lack of actual talent or effort like every other rich person. But Anne supposes that he's going to be a perfectionist in this scheme just like he is in every other fucking thing he does. She just wishes he'd leave her out of all the madness.

He's actually treating her like his fucking PA, if you can believe that. Trying to get her to schedule meetings with various rich idiots who might want to be patrons or some shit like that. Like he's fucking Michelangelo or whoever the fuck the Borgia patronized. And all this when Anne and Jack both know full well her job is to intimidate all the people Jack might need intimidated, not acting as his fucking secretary.

Though, in Jack's defense, the meetings are a good way to figure out new marks. Anne might not be much for subterfuge, but she's good at determining where wall safes might be hidden and an expert at valuating Rolex's and the like. When someone's got fifty thousand pounds worth of Swiss watch on their wrist, they're generally going to be a more worthwhile target for a con than someone with only fifty.

And she does get to do some intimidation. Sitting in the back of Jack's meetings, staring at the marks over the top of her blackberry. Like they're ants, like they're nothing and they're wasting her valuable time just by existing. The sort of looks men like that used to give her, when they realized she wasn't fuckable.

It's almost fun, watching them squirm. Cathartic, maybe, it you wanna be all fancy about it. Anne's always had a vindictive streak to her.

So she don't really mind that part all that much, though she ain't gonna let Jack onto that fact – he'd just rope her into more of this play pretend bullshit.

But what she does object to is the everything else that goes along with the meetings. Because if Jack's going to be a fashion designer, then he needs things like a sewing machine and dressmakers dummies and a truly bullshit ridiculous amount of fabrics and buttons and who even fucking knows what else. And he makes Anne go and get all of that shit, which is a real pain in the ass and takes considerable time away from her preferred activities of fucking Max and lounging threateningly at their new posh neighbors.

Fortunately, Mr. Scott knows Eme, who used to work for Eleanor – and is since out of a job because of her fall from grace and obscene wealth. And she's more than willing to come work for Anne and go round up all of Jack's stupid shit. And she knows a bunch of people looking to find jobs as housekeepers and gardeners and cooks. So they're gonna have a household staff like all the other posh fucks they've surrounded themselves with.

Charles had been pissed about it at first, which makes sense. But none of them can cook for shit or particularly want to spend time dusting all the stupid posh shit they've accrued as a cover for their new life as upper-class twats. And Mary had backed Anne in her half-pretending threats to mutiny if they've got to eat Jack's burned eggs one more morning. So Charles had eventually been persuaded into it – him being the fucker who don't have to bear the brunt of Jack's latest obsession and therefore not getting as much of a vote.

Though Charles had insisted on looking over the employment contracts Jack drew up. And they've ended up paying a comparatively obscene amount – which just means a living wage for London – but everyone's relatively happy with the arrangement. And ain't that what partnership is supposed to mean? Them all in this together. Compromising.

So Anne'll suck it up and deal with Jack in a tizzy over whatever fucking thing he's so worried about that particular minute. And she'll know everyone else in her crew's got her back when she needs it.

Which is a bit of a novel thought, if she's being honest. She's always had Jack, always trusted him since they met – but it's a real cock fight out there and Anne's had to scrabble for every fucking inch she's ever carved out for herself in the streets. It's nice to have Mary here with her along with Max. Someone who knows, someone who understands what that's like.

And Mary's been a real help wrangling Jack. Talking him down off whatever imaginary ledge he's got himself on. Keeping up his instagram and twitter and whatever so that when he schedules meetings with posh fucks they've at least heard of him. And she's started putting together little files on potential marks based off whatever she can find on their own accounts as well as the gossip Charles collects and the intel she and Jack report.

It's all the bullshit busy work that Anne has no patience for. But Mary's real good at it. Keeps everything nice and neat and organized, which Anne knows Max appreciates.

And she ain't half bad on the eyes.

Really, taking her in when Lord Hamilton's deadbeat son left her behind may have been one of Jack's smarter ideas. And to hear him talk, he's had a lot of 'em.

--

Jack is an idiot. An ignoramus. An absolute fucking moron.

Why on earth had he thought it would be a good idea to have his character's cover be a fashion designer?

He knows how to sew and has even made some of his own clothes – or altered charity shop finds into something half wearable. But he doesn't know the first thing about fashion. And certainly not the avant garde shit he'll be expected to trot out for Kaylen's gallery show.

Max's suggestion, backed by Charles, of just having the models be as near to naked as possible and letting the quote unquote sex appeal carry him through would probably work. But it's detestable to him. It does nothing to showcase Jack's talent or ability. Nothing to prove his worth or further his name.

Plus, it's cheating. And he may be a crook and a con, but he's not a cheater.

So he gets Max to round him up some women to use as models. And they're corner girls, not the sleek, starved models most people would probably use. But they're real people, with personality and preference and something for him to at least start basing ideas for outfits off of.

One woman had told him straight out that she'd knife him if he dared put her in anything with sequins, and that's something to work with.

So Jack commandeers one of the empty upstairs sitting rooms for a sewing room and starts sketching just reams and reams of absolute garbage. Nothing's right. Nothing looks right.

It's so endlessly frustrating.

He's got a feeling, a sense, ephemeral and fleeting, of what he wants to do. But he just can't draw it out. Can't get it out on the page, not for the fucking life of him.

And Charles has been less than helpful. Hanging around Jack's workshop and lounging there, having the time of his fucking life, while Jack's tearing his hair out by the roots.

When Jack had snapped at him, asking what, exactly, the fuck he was doing there, Charles had simply replied, “I'm supposed to be your muse, aren't I? I'm musing.”

And it had been such a terrible, horrible, awful thing to say, Jack had balled up his latest shitty drawing and chucked it at him, starting off a sort of indoor snowball fight that lasted until all rejected sketches were exhausted and they lay panting on the rug.

“Feel better?”

Jack groans dramatically. But he does feel a little less like banging his head against his desk, so probably.

“I'm beginning to think that all of this was a terrible mistake.”

Charles snorts. “Just now, you're thinking that?”

“Oh fuck off, Chaz. It's not like you've got to do anything but sit there and look pretty. Not exactly a difficult task for you.”

“Aw, you think I'm pretty.”

Jack laughs, despite himself. “That was not what I meant you to take away from that.”

“I know. You were trying to call me a lazy piece of shit.” Charles shrugs. “Maybe you're working too hard, Jack. Thinking too hard about this.” Like he always does. “Maybe you should just start doing shit instead of agonizing over if it's right or not.”

Which is just such a fundamentally Charles way of going about things.

But maybe he's right. Jack's approach certainly isn't working. And he's not really wasting anything by mocking up some of his ideas in muslin. Nothing that he hasn't already wasted by fucking around with paper and pencil and bad idea after bad idea.

“Maybe you're a fairly decent muse after all, Charles.”

Charles grins at him. “I can take my shirt off, too, if you think that'll help. Like Mary keeps telling me to for all those pictures.”

Then again, maybe not.

[jasondillisdead]

JDID’s Favourite records 2017

50. Brian Eno - Reflection   Although not the definitive version of Eno’s generative music, the permanent and impermanent formats of the most labored over conceptual kick of his career are both vital listens.This was the first record I heard in 2017 and was almost relieved how untenable it was, Eno’s been defending this position for years. Reflection is not the result, nor last chapter, just a tiny fragment.  

49. Godflesh - Post Self Post self is a flattened charred industrial record as all Godflesh records are but built on an idea that they had transcended what they had become. It succeeds - Post Self relies on a guitar sprawl so unique the way the ear navigates these tracks is indescribably different. It becomes a suffocating evil cousin of their ambient project Jesu.

48.  Aaron Dilloway - The Gag File  In 2017 Dilloway graced me with a track called “Karaoke with Cal” - anyone that knows or works with me know s the significance of that. If you don’t then all you need to know is that this record is the only one that legitimately creeped me out last year.

47. Tinariwen - Elwan

Elwan is little more than a beautiful extension of the middle eastern band’s meditative rounds they perfected on 2014's Emmaar but in current times it feels potent. Despite the band actually not being able to return to mali after being directly targeted by militants  Elwan is not as urgent, political or anything a band from the region with a strong western following could be. It makes a far more confronting point, this magic that is under threat from the current dangerous political and cultural climate closer to our increasingly nationalist western homes.

46. Talaboman - The Night Land  Perhaps deliberately designed not to overshadow the solo work work of either John Talabot or Axel Bowman, this collaborative album feels relaxed and Jam-session-like at face value which as a concept sounds appealing anyway. The pair have made an album that is so overtly welcoming to the point where spending copious amounts of time within it to discover each of the artist's sneaky signatures is really easy. When Talabot has been making us wait for years for a Fin follow-up there are plenty of moments here that tease what that could sound-like.

45. The Necks - Unfold   I first listened to the Australian improvisers expansive 19th (!) record whilst stuck in the Grampians preparing for a music festival whilst exhausted and sleeping in a tent. It seems to stretch on forever, Tony Bucks’ percussion refusing to stay still. It was one of those perfect place and time moments to experience a record. 

44. Tom Rogerson with Brian Eno - Finding Shore  High drama plays out the second you read that Eno has a second billing, yet alone when he starts to play with the composers piano shapes with lasers.

43. Chuck Johnson - Balsams  The pedal steel guitar has been a point of many emotive musical moments for me. It’s an instrument that seems to deal only in longing beauty. Chuck transformed that often fleeting feeling into an entire album of indulgent ambience.

42. Jenny Lin - Philip Glass: Complete Etudes for Piano  Glass wrote these classical vignettes to challenge him to learn, he later admitted the structure of some of them, especially the 11-20 movements, were beyond his grasp. Lin’s technical experience has injected new life into them via their most competent delivery yet.

41. Matthew Hayes - Indigo      Indigo is at first very disarming, a series of patient, calming exhales. Soon interwoven moments of intricacy, a voice here, a trickle of water there shape it into something that culminates explosively and joyously in relative terms by the final track. It’s a journey record that resets you and perfectly balances between melancholy and the quest for a more patient world. I listened to it a lot on my repeated plane rides from Melbourne to Adelaide. During the most capitalist points of my existence in 2017 it politely re-positioned my perspective on things.

40. Bicep - Bicep  The Field re purposed trance in a way that felt inexplicably sophisticated, in the same way these Bicep must be in on a joke, because they take the muscularity out of prog house and make it ephemeral.

39. Yves Tumor - Experiencing The Deposit of Faith The first track I heard in 2017 moments after midnight on new year's eve was Yves’ “Limerence” one that wasn’t on his acclaimed Serpent Music, my introduction to him a few months earlier. It blew me away. “Limerence” went on to be the centrepiece of PAN’s Mono No Aware and one of 2017’s most vital pieces of music. Yves has made the most of it. Experiencing the Deposit of Faith rides the feeling of that seminal track in varying directions.

38.  Khotin - New Tab A few years ago everyone either realised Macs were overpriced paper weights and acknowledged that functionalism is the future or became nostalgic for Window's 95. Although I hope it's the former I suspect it's the later fascinatingly, 22 years later windows operates not that differently but still looks like the future. You could say the same about the best mid 90's IDM I love so dearly and Khotin.

37. Visible Cloaks - Reassemblage The critical darling of experimental music in 2017, possibly with thanks to the hard work of their lauded mixes that landed a few years ago. I’m not sure it it actually re purposes Hiroshi Yoshimura’s music but it’s nod to it is convincing enough to be be received as sincere and at times beautiful homage to it.

36. Golden Retriever- Rotations  There’s an alluring bass clarinet (I think?!) that populates Rotations -an unusual instrument to use prolifically especially in a Neoclassical leaning piece of experimentalism but it codes rotations with its own unique sound. It’s a new language that is rooted in emotion, although very different it wants to be felt by as many people as possible. 

35. Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement - Ambient Black Magic

At the very least  Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement as a project wins best bullshit back story, a bunch of cassettes found in Port Moresby believed to be from missing christian missionaries, reissued in all their terror. I was a fan from the get go but possibly due to Fernow’s prolific 2017 workflow this is the best shape the project has been in since its inception. 

34. Actress - AZD

Due to his bizarrely complex modes of operation every time I listen to a new Actress album I wonder if it actually is him or an imitator, it takes a few spins for things to line up again.  This didn't happen with AZD, a capital B Black afro futurist techno record that is the true spiritual successor to 2012's rightly lauded  R.I.P. - a record he threatened never to make.

33. Shabazz Palaces - Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines/Born On a Gangster Star This epic double album streamlines Ishmael's sound into a distilled, aggressive but typically cosmic assault on America. Although this might be the easiest Shabazz Palaces album to digest, the music still forms a wonderfully alien ELM laced world where emotionless voices become percussive ghosts dancing around swamps of alien synths. 

32. Lee Gamble - Mnestic Pressure Apparently political, Mnestic Pressure’s finest point is the maze like way you need to train yourself to listen to it and extract full reward. It’s more psychological than political to me but maybe the point is they’re not so far apart.

31. Four Tet - New Energy   The insane popularity Kieran Hebden experienced at the turn of last decade seemed to throw him. New Energy finally scratched an itch for his magic I hadn’t had satisfied since Rounds. 

30. Moon Diagrams - Lifetime of Love  Lifetime of Love is a particularly weird, aching piece of ambient electronica.  Torn between a hypnotic ambiguous drawl of his Geographic North peers and his band's early ambient psych pop monuments, Deerhunter's Moses John Archuleta has made something here that is a rhythmic buffer from the catharsis of his day job. 

29. Forest Swords - Compassion  Barnes's latest offering as Forest Swords creates a vibrant maximalist voyage by narrowing the occasional kitsch musings of his previous album and blasting the important and unique aspects of his project into full scale widescreen stuff.

28. Cologne Tape - Welt Magazine's finest assemble for a homage to German music that although oddly eclectic is full of purpose and resolve. Magazine once again proves a safe haven for artists like Jens-Uwe Beyer and The Field to experiment outside their comfort zones, making me very happy.

27. Rafael Anton Irisarri - The Shameless Years  Although not his finest, Irisarri’s latest is a real grower by one of the ambient masters that rewards repeated listens and like his best can still suspend a Sunday afternoon in pure weightlessness.

26. Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds From Another Planet  Michelle Zauner's smoldering sophomore record was originally intended as a science fiction concept album. It never quite became that but a strange dystopian shade is cast over it. It's as if she made it 50 years in the future in mid western America, past its prime remembering its past. 

25. Strategy - The Infinity File  

Jefre Cantu Ledesma's excellent 2016 release on Geographic North meant more people than usual pointed their heads at the direction of the label. They didn’t waste the opportunity to capitalise on the attention, TIF is a genre hugging tape loop record running in the lineage of Basinski that beatlessly flirts with idea that this is music that can make you move.   

24. Shannhet - So Numb

Bordering on classical in its grandeur, So Numb is the ambient metal titans at full wingspan. An austere and almost comically epic record, they understand like few others the grace and beauty required to pull something like this off.

23. Avey Tare - Eucalyptus  Anco’s Meeting of the Waters was the return of a sound I felt had long cease to exist, an early 2000's ambient record with folk-pop song gems hidden inside. Eucalyptus is  the realization of those songs in broad daylight. Its stunning lucid dream state at its best it sounds like a sister album to Deakin's Sleep Cycle, or even Spirit. 

22. Juju and Jordash - Sis - Boom- Bah  The idea of improvisation in techno normally lends to a sloppiness but these two have worked together so closely over the last decade that this record scans as each predicting the other’s next move. Impulsive yet perfectly refined.

21.  Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - The French Press Quite possibly the most unfathomably fully formed guitar band since The Walkmen and about the only indie rock record I cared about this year.

20. Jefre Cantu Ledesma - On The Echoing Green  For the third year running the noise maniac has outdone himself. This ventures closer to shoegaze and song structure than anything he's released before and wonderfully for noise heads and MBV fans alike, pulls it off.  

19. Richard Dawson - Peasant  Peasant is sort of halfway between the absurdity of modern day Scott Walker and the somber beauty of prime time Nick Drake. It’s the most confounding record I heard all year. He plays the guitar like a 7 year old snapping at a nylon string but does it so intricately that it feels like there’s no other way to play the instrument. It also simply must be noted that for me there was also no better song than “Beggar” in 2017. 

18. Call Super -  Arpo I heavily underappreciated the depths that Joe could mine, he’s always been able to flick his music around just enough that it becomes genreless but the LP format give it time to crystallize in a way that is a lot less messy and much more rewarding. 

17. Just Neighbors - Being where I Thought I'd Be 

Being where I thought I'd be could be the best math album since Mutiny on the bounty's IMAX epic, Digital Tropics. Just Neighbors is the counterpoint to the record that out battlesd battles, a patient neighborhood band that know their limitations millimeter perfectly and simply coast through a near perfect suburban album like a  lost cousin of American Football. 

16. Kettenkarussell - Insecurity Guard  Giegling may be the first label to become a glorified electronic music meme. Insecurity Guard is virtually impossible to get a hold of digitally and if you want a physical copy you have to pay, big. The problem that seems to encourage this ostentatious behaviour is the music is somehow gorgeous enough to justify at least some of it. That last track is on some serious BOC shit. 

15. Forest Walker - UV Sea  Constilation Tatsu have always had an astoundingly consistent output of soundcloud ambience  but this tape from Oakland's Forest Walker is the next step above. UV Sea is an enveloping wave of humming machines and perfectly measured, piano that melt together. Ambient bliss of the finest order.

14. Ahnnu- Special Forces  I’ve been a massive Ahnnu fan since Battered Sphinx but always seem to overlook the LA surrealist when writing these dumb lists, his music is timelessly expressive and fascinating, Special Forces is yet another record to ad to his ludicrously high standards of experimentation. 

13. Mount Kimbie - Love What Survives Mount Kimbie were once ambassadors for a sound I really loved that only seemed to really exist in 2010-11 before it was consumed by pop culture and somehow became something different. James Blake is a pub singer playing stadiums now. Love What Survives rescues some of that sound but also offers a nerdist offering of their fascination with the MS-20 - one of my favourite synths.

12. William Basinski - A Shadow In Time Many debate the legitimacy of the connection between Basinski's Disintegration Loops to 9/11. On his first work that has actively engaged with the same technique since that career defining legacy, he crafts music that shifts over essentially large scales with new techniques to further unravel his difficult relationship with tragedy. It further homes in (and perhaps justifies) the most lauded conceptual framework of the his career. The two pieces introduce violent acts around the 6 minute mark, like a real marked event, by the distant end of the track's twentieth minute it's hard to remember what the pieces were like before fate reared its head.

11. Varg - Nordic Flora Series Pt. 3: Gore-Tex City   Varg takes contemporary popular music culture, purist independent ambient techno and our self perception in the digital age, irony and steely purpose and compresses it to a dense singular point. Then he boasts on instagram about how easy it was to make on his ipad. This is your reality, are you flying business class?

10. Albrecht La'Brooy - Escape Velocity  As with much of the Melbourne duo’s work Escape Velocity is yet another place making exercise but this time one that is interpretive and cosmic bound. Their previous records relied on personal experiences and recordings to supplement their sometimes astoundingly intricate soundscapes, this proved that they can project that same romance to places they could only dream of going without diminishing any of their music’s power. 

9. PAN - Mono No Aware Mono No Aware strikes a balance that few label comps could ever dream of, and feels as important as Artificial Intelligence must have. The record is an incredible distilled snapshot of the way ambient music operates within the music of today, eclectic enough to keep you on your toes and yet captures a beautiful static and very specific mood. The thought that has gone into this is immeasurable, it doesn't read as a collection as much as a modern ambient classic.

8. Baths - Romaplasm 

Born from the 2010’s era where poptimism and independent music were still distinctly separated, Bath’s masterful third full length gave me hope that there is still a pop utopia hiding in the queer underground.

7. Bing and Ruth - No Home Of The Mind Composer David Moore's neoclassical drone opus is waves upon waves of arpeggiated chords and shuddering, gut wrenching bass tones executed with mathematical, classical and emotional precision. Very few can do this type of thing.

6. Bjork - Utopia Utopia has been unfairly labelled Bjork’s “Happy Album,” unsurprisingly it’s far more complex than that. Bjork has become the perfect catalyst to bring out the best in Arca, strangely she grounds him but also manages to paint these surreal collages that are both “happy” and also somehow skin crawlingly weird. Their second meeting has resulted in my favourite Bjork album since Vespertine.

5. Shinichi Atobe - From the Heart, It's A Start, A Work Of Art The mysterious chain reaction expat has been pulled out of hiding revealing a plethora of stunning technoscapes, Atobe crafts three dimensional loops that weave in and out of each other with no beginning nor end. His distinctly Japanese sensibility puts him squarely in a lineage of greats like Rei Harakami Susumu Yokota and the beyond legendary Hiroshi Yoshimura who plucked the impossible out of the most simple of electronic constructions. There is something desperately elemental about it, as though he's trying to expose what it means to be human.

4. King Krule - The Ooz One hailed as the new voice of our generation, I never saw Archy as more than a modest fad, an english kid with a guitar and a deep voice. I’m very happy to be wrong, The Ooz is an incredible jazz fused odyssey and nothing sounds quite like it. Marshall plays with perception of the English language, bone shattering bass and quirky and brash areas of a lengthy album that open up into gorgeous interludes. His voice is one thing - and still notable - but his abilities as a producer and a lyricist are where things have become incredibly interesting. He’s getting a lot of attention right now and he deserves every bit of it and you don’t need me to tell you. 

3. Bibio - Phantom Brickworks  Phantom Brickworks borrows from just about every corner of modern ambient you could imagine. Basinski’s disintegration techniques, Glass’s repetition, GAS’s hiss, Eno’s placemaking melodies, this list goes on. What’s so absolutely remarkable about this is how an established artist who has never operated in this field has made such a convincing and beautiful masterpiece out of recycled ideas.

2. Skee Mask - Skee Series - ISS001 - 2012 / ISS002 After last year's already canonical Shred, The peerless German returns with a series gorgeously realised, ungodly pieces of ambiguous IDM. Both EP’s were razor sharp, bold statements from a producer with absolutely nothing to prove at this point. He has an LP on the way in 2018, repent sins, the messiah might be here.  

1. GAS - Narkopop Full disclaimer: I regularly regard GAS’s 2000 record Pop as my favourite of all time to the point where I once wrote an entire book about it. Wolfgang Voigt has done a lot since then including building one of the most important techno labels ever in Kompakt and continued to explore ambient avenues, but never returned under the GAS name. Myself and others started to loudly wonder if he ever would, or more importantly if he still could make this music. Pop perfected the formula he had been testing in the mid nineties, it sounded like the universe breathing, it gave new meaning to existing. The conclusion was always simple: Why would he?

Eyes fixed on the future, when Wolfgang brought back GAS for a fleeting remix of The Field a few years ago it felt unimportant but also opened up the possibility that he may not be done with the name. He had ever so slightly tarnished Pop’s perfect full stop. 17 years after Pop he’s exhaled another opus over the decades that does the GAS name justice and reinstates his god given right to walk away from it. One thing to readily note here is this record is certainly not Pop 2.0 as the title may suggest. Narkopop's new unstable nature brings fascinating, readily consumable answers to the question of where he planned to take us as well as obligatory nods to Konigsfrost and Zauberberg in overwhelming ecstatic waves of classical music. Narkopop is anything but nostalgia, it presents itself as a stunning individual entry into this once seemingly sealed vault. Gone are the naturalistic running streams of Pop’s opening three tracks, replaced by human voices on 3, horrifying militaristic drums on 5 and most strikingly, blindingly gorgeous piano fills, clear as day on 6. Its meaning was quickly clear.   Narkopop feels heavier than Pop ever did. It’s a velvety record, luxurious even but where Pop felt like it could have been accidentally made by the forest, Narkopop is undeniably the result of fingers on buttons and keys. Pop would never have let a human made piano fill enter the frame yet alone a voice. 17 years later perhaps Voigt can no longer achieve such feats, what’s more likely is he is trying to tell us that the world has gotten to the point where it won’t let him. Once a vision into the surreal side of nature, Narkopop seems to point the project somewhere it has never faced, nor needed to - the human condition required to program it. Not so strangely 2017 felt like the right year for him to do it and for me it was the best record of the strange year by a mile. 

[lisakellner]

Forest Bathing and The Power of Nature to Heal and Inspire

Guest post by Regan Stacy

Important: If you are in a dire situation, click on this list of emergency resources.

Regan Stacey is an artist, environmentalist, and founder of Awaken the Forest Within, a nature-connection practice that reconnects humans to nature and themselves.  Located in Southeastern CT, she offers forest bathing walks, nature-based life coaching, and retreats.  You can find out more here:  www.awakentheforestwithin.com

Forest Bathing and The Power of Nature to Heal and Inspire

It is through our most difficult challenges in life, the ones that make you question mortality and what you truly value, that growth can take root.  We are all in a global pandemic.  Each one of our lives is collectively threatened in ways we haven’t experienced since last century’s Spanish Flu, the century that also witnessed two world wars, a cold war (among others), and advents in modern medicine that have allowed us, to some extent, to take our health for granted.  The coronavirus is a reminder that we are animals, mammals, subject to injury, disease, and death alongside all other life forms.  We are temporary, ephemeral as the landscape, and with our consciousness, able to witness beauty, experience joy and gratitude, and through suffering, find hope.

I see many people finding solace in nature these days.  This gives me great joy and hope for the future of our species and planet earth, for it was just two years ago that I, too, found solace in nature.

Facing a difficult breast cancer diagnosis, I followed an incredibly spiritual journey with the forest that took me to the edge of this dimension, to a place where our interconnectedness was palpable, and I could see we are never alone, and we never die.  I walked in step with its wonders and listened for guidance.  I learned to ask for help: “Help heal me, so I can heal you.”  I knew I couldn’t be alone in having experienced something so profound, and I was comforted when I came across this John Muir quote, “The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”  I know that to be true.  This relationship with the forest has forever changed me. 

There are these times in life where, as an artist, you are afforded the opportunity to shift your work in response to significant life changing events. Since my own health crisis, my work shifted from an orderly abstraction to a wildly gestural one, and I venture to guess it will oscillate over time - the push and pull of letting go and reining in. The gestural charcoal drawings as of late are all done en plein air in communion with the forest.  This is the letting go and letting through, an unmediated dance of breathing with the trees finding its way to paper.

Corona is shifting work, too, how can it not?  

How can we arrive in a place where we can live without fear and trust in the process of life and what is intended for us on this earth,  a place where we can trust in the path of our creativity as a viable form of expression and healing, necessary for our well-being, individually and collectively?  

We can invite peace into our being through nature-connection. My journey not only changed my artwork, but it inspired a nature-connection practice, Awaken the Forest Within, where I reconnect humans to nature and themselves.  One of the ways I do this is through forest bathing walks – slow immersive walks in nature, punctuated with sensory invitations, concluding with a tea ceremony on the land.  

The practice of forest bathing asks us to slow down and open ourselves to a sensory awareness of our surroundings.  Unlike a hike, which is often planned with an end goal, forest bathing has no agenda. We are invited to be, to wander and wonder, while taking in the health benefits of the forest.  Its tangible benefits include:

Reduced stress

Decreased heart rate and blood pressure

Increased creativity

Increased focus

Improved mood and sleep

Boost in immune system 

But it’s no surprise that nature helps us to relax, find flow, and be open to joy. Nature nourishes, heals, and restores us physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. It makes sense, especially if you consider the concept of interconnection – what indigenous people (and long ago all humans) have long known: nature is our ally and when we work with her, we feel more complete, whole, and connected.   When we feel more complete, whole, and connected, we are better able to care for ourselves and others, balance daily demands, prioritize our time in ways that are meaningful for us, live in gratitude and with compassion, while honoring this one life we and all living forms are given.

For creatives, nature has often been a muse, a source of inspiration, sometimes a reflection of and sometimes a portal to the mysteries we have yet to discover.  It can also be a place to rejuvenate, reactivate, and re-ignite our imagination, lend clarity, ground and re-center.  In other words, whatever we need is always available to us in nature.  

In the time of corona, this is one medicine that is readily available in any yard, park, nearby preserve or even indoors.  If you can’t get outdoors in nature, make friends with an indoor plant, hold vegetables (seriously), smell spices, caress cotton - it all connects.  

So the next time you approach the easel, so to speak, take one deep breath for your interconnectedness and know, as Julian of Norwich so eloquently explained hundreds of years ago, “All will be well, and all will be well, and every kind of thing shall be well.”

As my gift to you and in support of your work and well-being, I am offering a free forest bathing guided meditation – a sensory invitation.  Click here for the audio file.

To learn more about forest bathing and nature-connection, please visit www.awakentheforestwithin.com

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[bountyofbeads]

HOW ICE USES SOCIAL MEDIA TO SURVEIL AND ARREST IMMIGRANTS

By Max Rivlin-Nadler | Published December 22 2019, 8:00 AM ET | The Intercept | Posted December 22, 2019 |

EMAILS SENT BY Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials expose how ICE used social media and information gleaned by for-profit data brokers to track down and arrest an immigrant in Southern California. In the emails, which were disclosed in federal court filings, officials discussed the relationship status of the person, noting that he was “broken hearted,” according to Facebook posts, and confirmed his identity through pictures posted at his father’s birthday party.

ICE ultimately arrested the person after he “checked in” to a Home Depot on Facebook.

The emails are a rare glimpse into the ever-widening surveillance dragnet ICE uses to track down immigrants who are subject to possible deportation. In this case, ICE used Thomson Reuters’s controversial CLEAR database, part of a growing industry of commercial data brokers that contract with government agencies, essentially circumventing barriers that might prevent the government from collecting certain types of information.

The emails were included by the government in response to a motion by a federal public defender whose client was being criminally charged with felony illegal reentry. Because the vast majority of immigrants who are removed from the country are not charged criminally, it’s extremely unusual for ICE to disclose details related to its investigations in such depth.

The client, whom we will call “Sid” to protect him and his family, had been living in the U.S. since he was a year old. He worked as a roofer and was raising a family; his children are American citizens. He had been previously deported to Mexico over a nonviolent felony involving the receipt of stolen goods at an auto shop and had not been identified by local law enforcement since his return to the United States.

“I came back to — I came back to be with my family,” Sid told the judge at his sentencing hearing this past January. “I’m sorry. That’s all.”

Anatomy of an Investigation

According to the court filings, the investigation into Sid began on February 22, 2018, when ICE’s National Criminal Analysis and Targeting Center generated a lead and forwarded it to an ICE office in Los Angeles.

ICE periodically sends datasets of deported individuals to the NCATC to run through the agency’s Data Analysis System to see if they’ve reentered the United States. The system pulls data from other federal agencies, as well as commercial data brokers, to match the names of deported individuals to recent car registrations, utility bills, and mailing addresses, among other records. This data is either openly shared with ICE, as is the case with government agencies like the post office, or collected by data brokers and then sold to ICE, as is the case with many electricity providers or other companies that are prohibited by local laws from sharing data with ICE directly.

After receiving the lead, an officer at the Los Angeles ICE office reached out to the agency’s Pacific Enforcement Response Center for help. PERC supplements the work of ICE field officers by providing intelligence support and placing detainers on immigrants in custody across the U.S. so they can be picked up by ICE.

A few weeks later, on May 4, 2018, an official at PERC wrote back to say that he had found Sid’s Facebook account. Sid was using his legal name on Facebook, although it’s a very common name and not easily distinguishable.

The PERC official explained that he had used Thomson Reuters CLEAR to find Sid’s home address, as well as the address of his parents.

The official then ran the addresses CLEAR provided through Google Maps and compared them to photos that Sid had posted on Facebook of his father’s backyard birthday party. One of the addresses was a match — which meant the Facebook account belonged to the person ICE was looking for.

“When you have someone with a fairly common name, Facebook makes it so much easier to be tracked,” said Sarah St.Vincent, a surveillance expert who runs a clinic for targets of digital abuse at Cornell Tech. “When DHS is trying to compile a dossier on someone, this type of information, like sharing a photo online, which a lot of people consider to be ephemeral, becomes permanent.”

“Happy birthday to my dad,” Sid captioned one of the photographs at the birthday party. “And to a shitload of years more.”

Former Reuters journalists have criticized the news media company’s $20 million contract with ICE for the use of CLEAR, saying that it “associates Reuters good name with government spying.” Thomson Reuters executives have stressed that the news reporting and data collection divisions of the company are wholly separate.

In addition to confirming that the Facebook page belonged to Sid, the PERC official mused on his family life.

“The target may not be together with REDACTED at the moment he wrote on his page a general statement of missing someone and mentioned later how he is broken hearted. The target does have a daughter and what appears to be a son (video of a soccer field following what appears to be a male adolescent).”

The report from PERC also identified driver’s license information for Sid and his parents. Since 2013, California has offered driver’s licenses to undocumented people, but the program has been criticized for not safeguarding that information from ICE. Several recent arrests of undocumented people have stemmed directly from their signing up for driver’s licenses in California.

In a case that was argued in front of the 9th Circuit earlier this year, ICE officers were able to track down an immigrant because of their inclusion in a national driver’s license database after they renewed their license in California in 2015. All ICE needed to find them was a name to run through the NCATC, and the state of California had already provided their home address.

In Sid’s case, ICE officers began to monitor the Facebook profile after it was confirmed to be a match. When Sid “checked in” on Facebook at a Home Depot on May 24, 2018, to buy roofing supplies, ICE officers waited outside the store until Sid was driving out of the parking lot, then stopped and arrested him.

Sid’s prior removal order was immediately reinstated, but he wasn’t deported; instead he was charged with felony illegal reentry. His criminal case is what ultimately shed light on ICE’s tactics, but even their inclusion in the briefing by prosecutors is something that people familiar with such cases consider to be highly unusual.

Several veteran federal public defenders who reviewed the case told The Intercept that clients charged with felony illegal reentry either plead to a lesser charge or have their cases dismissed before a disclosure like this is made.

Over 55 percent of all federal crimes prosecuted in fiscal year 2018 were immigration-related, and the vast majority of those were for misdemeanor illegal entry, according to an August 2019 Bureau of Justice Statistics report. That represents an 87 percent increase in the amount of these types of prosecutions in the first full year of the Trump administration, as part of the policy known as “zero tolerance.” (The U.S. attorney’s office in San Diego even distributes a pamphlet emphasizing how many more prosecutions they’ve filed for previously unenforced statutes like misdemeanor illegal entry.) As a result, federal defenders have seen their caseloads balloon dramatically.

While federal defenders are entitled to discovery production, “federal migrant prosecutions are often seen as just shifting paperwork around,” said Julie Mao, the deputy director of Just Futures Law, a law office that works on issues involving immigration enforcement and surveillance. “There’s a whole windmill system where lives are being destroyed and people are pleading to these cases and defendants are not fighting them because federal defenders often feel like they can’t fight or challenge these cases. Often in these cases, there’s very minimal discovery.”

According to Mao, even in cases in which the government does turn over discovery information, it mostly focuses on proving a person’s identity and immigration history.

“Usually discovery is never about how the individual was located or how the individual was subsequently apprehended,” she said. “When federal defenders have asked for that information, it really cracks open a whole black box about policing either at the local level or federal immigration enforcement.”

In January, Sid was sentenced to 21 months in federal prison after a judge found him guilty of illegal reentry. His case is currently on appeal while he continues to serve his sentence. He will almost certainly be deported again once that sentence is completed.

This spring, the Brennan Center for Justice released a comprehensive  report on social media monitoring by the Department of Homeland Security. In its section on ICE, it noted that “while people seeking immigration benefits bear the brunt of this scrutiny, their American friends, relatives, and business associates are sucked into these repositories of information as well.”

Meanwhile, over the summer, the Trump administration expanded “expedited removal” nationwide, making it far easier for ICE to deport someone within a matter of days if the person cannot prove at the time of arrest that they’ve lived in the U.S. for two years. Advocates fear that this expansion, which has been put on hold by a federal judge, would increase ICE’s reliance on social media to track, arrest, and deport both citizens and noncitizens alike, without the opportunity for judicial review.

St.Vincent believes that the use of social media to create dossiers on people, as in Sid’s case, serves to chill free expression for all people in the country, and not just the immigrants who might end up on ICE’s radar.

“If anything you post online can be used against you forever, even if you pose no immediate threat to anyone, then the dragnet that people feared would happen under Trump is already happening,” she told The Intercept. “When ICE agents are speculating on your relationship status, what kind of power dynamic does that create?”

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Circe Invidiosa

Circe Invidiosa has 11 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files stories at her website. Some of my favs I’ve recced here before, like Make It Worse and Slap a Goatee On Me and Call Me Evil. She also made a bunch of X-Files collage art, including some cover art for fics (hers and others), which you probably saw if you were reading fic back when authors posted fics on their own websites where art could be shared. Big thanks to Circe Invidiosa for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Well, it would surprise me if people did read my fic. As it happens, I don't hear much feedback from my fic these days. Probably because the bulk of it is on Gossamer and my own site rather than AO3. Also, I was never a BNA. I worked a lot behind the scenes – hosting other authors' sites and making fanart and dustjackets. I think that's what I'd be remembered for, if anything.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience?

I miss the collective excitement and discussions we had as groups. When you got in with a group in the XF fandom, you felt like you knew everybody there. Now the fandom feels a little faceless except for the people I still follow from my old groups.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Most of my experience was on Yahoo Groups. I joined Scullyfic while it was still there and then E-muse when it became an e-mail list, which I'm still a part of. I was part of several Yahoo Groups (can't remember all of them now), where I'd post my fic, RealPlayer slideshows (remember those?!), and collages. I never really took part in discourse because I'm shy and don't think anyone cares about my opinions (still don't!). The e-mail address I used for those groups was purged a couple of years ago, so I've lost all those messages.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

My take away is that fanfic made me a better writer, thanks to having some great betas, and it made me a better professional writer for it (my real-life work is writing but not fun writing) because I learned to take criticism.

I also used to make a lot of fanart, collages and dustjackets for fic mostly. My big take away from that was that I really got into graphics and I got super proficient at Photoshop, which helped my own artistic endeavours and photography. I didn't realize how much skill I had developed until I've had to help someone with their graphics or photo editing.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

My mother was watching X-Files before I was and she was raving about it. I don't have a great relationship with my mom, but one thing she was usually right about was TV shows. It's where I got my love of Sci-Fi.

I think the first episode I watched was Ice, which definitely hooked me. As for when the shipping started, I remember we were watching Lazarus, and when Mulder was yelling at Lula (I had to look that up) about hurting the hostage Scully, my mom said, "Oh, he's so in love with her." And I was all, "What?! Pfff." But then I could not stop thinking about it. And then I thought about it way, way too much.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I was in my late 20s, and it was around the end of S7 and I kept thinking about what if these two dumb idiots actually talked one day. And I kept thinking about dialogue in my head about what they'd actually say. The internet was still in its infancy back then, but I'd seen fan sites here and there. So I decided to search around to see if other people were talking about it and thinking about it like I was. I was such a noob I'd never even heard of fanfic. Imagine my delight when I discovered it. I found a few stories and thought, 'Well, I can do that.' And I wrote up my first story, found a place to post it (wasn't Ephemeral the best?), got some kind feedback, found a really nice person (not sure she wants to be named since she used her real name in the fandom back in the day) who encouraged me a lot and directed me to all the e-mail lists and Yahoo Groups that I needed to be on, and then, Bob's your uncle, I wrote more and more.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Periphery. Most of my experience in any fandom is now on Tumblr because that's where my attention span is. Show me pretty pictures and funny stuff. I am old now and don't want to think hard.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Veronica Mars was my next fandom experience. A number of my XF friends got me hooked on VM. The VM fandom was a LOT younger compared to the XF fandom. When I joined the XF fandom, I was the kid compared to most of the other fans who were all goddesses and royalty in my eyes. But in the VM fandom, I was in my 30s and the rest of the fandom were all in their early 20s if not younger. It often showed, so I stayed out of discussions and just posted my fic once I started writing it. I took a new handle (invida) when I started writing VM fic. Just in case these kids felt like my writing sucked, I didn't want it getting back to the XF fandom that I’d branched out and failed spectacularly.

By then fandom experiences had moved over to LiveJournal. I never really got involved in the discourse or the fandom fights. I knew what people were saying and where the schisms were, but I was all about the fanfic and the pretty pictures. Most of my LJ friends just discussed the episodes and posted their fic and that was good with me.

What got me writing fic for VM was Anjou's brilliant VM fic Into the Blue. Seriously, if you love VM S1, read her fic. Just so beautiful.

VM was also where started writing a WIP, which was a wild trip. I wrote a much-loved WIP called Damn, Damn the Circumstance which people still ask me about finishing to this day. Someday…*wistful sighs*

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Scully. She was everything! Lapsed Catholic, degrees in science, skeptic, always trying to work within the rules but still not taking crap. Yeah, she was the best.

Veronica Mars was great until she wasn't. I have a lot of issues with her beyond S2. And don't even talk to me about S4. For me, S1 was the best, I enjoyed the movie, the books were okay, but nothing else happened after that. NOTHING.

And the first character I ever loved was Princess Leia. She was also everything to me growing up. I wanted to be her. I still do.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Now and then. Not as much as I used to. I sometimes have it on in the background when I'm doing other things. Back before the pandemic, my BFF and I would have get togethers where we would play Scrabble, eat a lot of candy, and binge several XF episodes. I miss doing that. Hopefully, we will get back to that soon.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I am not an active XF fanfic reader right now. I will read any stories my friends put out. Otherwise, I only occasionally read some I come across on Tumblr in my feed, but I am not seeking them out. I will beta for any XF author who asks me as well.

I am reading fic in other fandoms though – Endeavour, Broadchurch, Sherlock…huh, I'm just realizing that's a lot of British stuff. I have been really into British detective series for the last few years.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I used to run an XF fic recommendation site called How Will It End usually with at least one other person (I went through at least 4 partners on that project because I'm a control freak). We'd compile our recs and then I'd post them on my site. We'd also feature authors we really liked and interview them. Not unlike these interviews!

I'm terrible at giving feedback/comments. So I solved that problem by making a rec site. That way I could tell authors I loved their fics by recommending them. I didn't have to comment, I'd just say, 'I'd like to rec your fic'. And then they'd get promotion. Win-win. Back in those days, the fandom would absolutely roast you for promoting your own fic, so to get on a rec site was a big deal. Not that I had a popular rec site or anything. But I think authors really enjoyed being asked.

All that to say I've liked a lot of fics. I can pull up the archives of HWIE and show you all the faves I liked. :)

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Back in the day, E-muse would hold Improv Challenges, where other members would give you a prompt that you had to include in your fic. I was always really proud of the stories I created from those challenges (No Earthly Means and Elephant in the Room if you want to read them).

I enjoyed writing Dead to Rights which is an XF/Dead Like Me crossover because I loved the challenge of writing a crossover. It was the first crossover I ever tried writing even though I only recently published it.

Otherwise, I like re-reading In a Graveyard, Importuning Life for Life, and Some By Virtue Fall. Of my more recent fic, I like Slap a Goatee on Me and Call Me Evil because the premise was ridiculous and I think it's funny as all get out.

Probably my favourite of my VM fic was Stay Outta Riverdale. Because: 1. The title is a Simpsons reference who doesn't love a Simpsons reference? And 2. I think I was hilarious throughout it.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I'm always open to writing more fic (and, of course, I don't mean my WIPs…don't look at me like that). Lately, my only motivation has been from writing prompts on Tumblr. I haven't had anyone give me a prompt in over a year, so here we are. I have snippets of dialogue in journals and word documents that have never found their way into stories. I'd be happy to dust off any of those and shoehorn them into a new story.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

The last fanfic I wrote was a mini-fic over a year ago (with a prompt from Lilydale!). I've written a bit of original fiction but I haven't been able to finish it. Otherwise, I do have a number of real life hobbies which are where my creative outlets lie now.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Lately, challenges and prompts. It used to be from wanting to see more from a scene. I really had a thing for fill-in-the-blanks or scene continuations. And sometimes my motivation is just plain old spite. :)

What's the story behind your pen name?

Circe Invidiosa is the title of a painting by John William Waterhouse. Love the colours and the absolute malice on the face of the subject. It felt like a good pen name – the envious witch. That's me!

I chose it when I posted my first XF fic (which I cringe to read now, ugh so terrible) without knowing there was already a Circe in the fandom. Whoops. I tried to go by the full Circe Invidiosa or Invidiosa as much as possible after realizing that (invidiosa is my url and my username on a lot of sites, etc.). Now I think that I've been around long enough that it doesn't matter as much but I still like it.

As I said, I took the name Invida for the VM fandom which is just a shortening of Invidiosa.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My significant other knows and that was quite a reveal (oh how awkward). However, the SO has been very supportive and has read all my stories since the reveal and sometimes betas them. The SO also wants us to collaborate on writing some original fiction but we haven't found a project that works for both of us creatively or timewise.

My BFF knows because I dragged her into the online fandom. We've known each other since we were 14, but our love of XF really solidified our bond in our 20s. She wrote some short but sweet fics under the penname Helen Quilley which I bullied her into posting, and we wrote Of Ladies Most Deject and Wretched together. She is mostly embarrassed that she wrote fanfic now but we still fangirl together.

No one else really knows other than fandom folks I've met in real life. And some friends know I've written 'short stories' but I don't elaborate. I work in a stodgy, uptight industry where anything fun or actually having a life is frowned upon.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Over the first lockdown, I got my shit together and got my fic site, invidiosa.com, up and running again. My site houses fic by Rain (now @doctorhelena on Tumblr and AO3), Helen Quilley, ML (who I miss so much), Folieadeux, Shelba, TLynn, Oracle, Piper Sargasso, Diehard, and me. And I made all their dustjackets (except Folie's). The site got hacked a few years back and it was so much work to get running again that I put it off for years and years. I still feel terrible that I did not get the site back up before ML passed away, especially when ML had asked me about it a few months before she passed.

Anyway, all my XF fic is here: circe.invidiosa.com. I have 3 of my newer XF stories on AO3. And my fic-LJ also has some of my stories. Some of the newer stories are on Tumblr but the tagging is so erratic that I'd have to list several tags before you'd find them all. I don't know why I haven't moved everything over to AO3. Probably laziness.

I'm @invidiosa on Tumblr. I'm still on E-muse. I'm still on LJ. I'm always reachable by e-mail (invidiosa at gmail).

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Thanks for reading, writing, and commenting. It is always appreciated.

(Posted by Lilydale on January 5, 2021)

[ge-rh-expert]

La Suite Présidentielle du Lutetia pensée comme un musée éphémère

La Suite Présidentielle du Lutetia pensée comme un musée éphémère

La Suite Présidentielle du Lutetia pensée comme un musée éphémère

  Le mythique hôtel de la Rive gauche, racheté en 2010 pour 145 millions d’euros par le groupe israélien Alrov Properties and Lodging et gérée depuis par The Set Hotels, avait réouvert en juillet 2018 après quatre ans de travaux (et 200 millions de factures dit-on), cordonnées par Willmote et Associés.

    Avec ses 169…

[sentrava]

Artist Spotlight: Swedish Visual Artist Gabriel Isak

Gabriel Isak is a Swedish visual artist who uses photography as a metaphor for experiences of the soul. As Gabriel explains it, there are life experiences that transform and develop the soul. Gabriel’s visual world is surreal, created deep inside the mind and brought to life through minimalism, solitary figures, and melancholic scenes. The images take viewers on a journey between the hope and melancholy, light and dark, reality and dreams. By watching boundless oceans, blue skies, and faceless humans, we fall into an ephemeral state of being.

We spoke with Swedish visual artist Gabriel Isak about his work, inspiration, and how he got his start:

Who is Gabriel Isak? How did you get started in photography?

I’m a visual artist specializing in fine art photography. I’m based in Stockholm, Sweden. I began photographing when I was in high school and experimented with surreal and abstract self-portraiture. After about a year, I fell into the arms of depression and didn’t pick up the camera for another seven years, when I studied for my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Photography at Academy of Art University in San Francisco. That was where I started experimenting with the photography I do now.

    Why did you choose your particular medium? Do you work in multiple mediums?

I got a small camera when I was about 15 years old from my father and began documenting the world around me. I experimented with the image files in Photoshop. I fell in love with the medium of digital photography as it helped me bring my imagination to life. At the moment, I work with digital photography and sometimes with motion too.

    What does your process look like?

My photography is very planned in advance, as I like to have as much control as possible over the shoot. I begin by conceptualizing the idea. Then I sketch out the image, decide on clothes, props, location, model, and equipment. After that, I start to produce the shoot and end the process in post-processing where the image becomes finalized. My favorite moment is when I look at the final image and compare it to my original sketch. I feel the joy of having brought it into existence.  

    Can you talk a bit about your journey with depression?

I began going through depression about ten years ago, right before I started high school. It was a very dark and vulnerable time in my life that lasted for seven years. I went to a counselor and took cognitive behavioral therapy for a long time.

During that period, I couldn’t photograph or do any other things I enjoyed. I felt imprisoned and paralyzed. Only after leaving Sweden for San Francisco for a change of environment, I began to see the light again. I started to explore my interest in photography and began to create images that were either related to or inspired by my depression.

Moving to San Francisco and rediscovering my passion for photography saved my life. I have no idea how things would have ended otherwise and am immensely grateful that the depression is no longer in my life.  

    You use photography as a metaphor for experiences of the soul. Can you explain further?

By experiences, I am referring to life experiences: everything that transforms and develops the soul. This is very subjective from person to person; we are all on a different journey in life. The photography allows me to explore the soul through different visual metaphors and to convey my ideas by using different symbols and scenery.

I don’t have a fixed idea of how the soul looks, it is something I am still exploring. I see it in different ways: as a silhouette, light, or a sphere. I think we all have a soul that stays with us in this life on Earth. What happens afterward is a mystery.

    Do you think your photography might be a reflection of your dreams?

I believe that dreams can help communicate and bring to the surface things repressed or ignored. I try to analyze my own dreams from time to time. Sometimes they convey important messages, and other times it’s just a web of surreal illusory images that mean absolutely nothing.

I draw inspiration from my dreams. Things such as characters, scenery, and symbolic messages that I might encounter and merge into my photography. Dreams help me explore the existence of the unconscious mind that my conscious mind refuses to acknowledge.

    Who or what inspires your work? I see a tie between you and René Magritte; would you agree?

My main source of inspiration comes from my personal life. Other sources of inspiration come from Scandinavian nature, graphic design, paintings, psychology, dreams, and cinema.

When I began photographing four years ago, I didn’t have a particular source of inspiration other than images that came to my mind and the inspiration I had with me from the surreal Swedish landscape where I grew up. I didn’t even know who Magritte was (how embarrassing that may sound right now!) until someone pointed out that some of my images reminded them of Magritte.

I began to research him and discovered a few things I had in common with him in my photographic toolbox. Magritte became one of my muses. I think he is the most inspiring surrealist, maybe because I visually relate to him the most.

  Do you feel your photography is particularly Swedish or Scandinavian? Why or why not?

I do. Growing up I would always spend time by the lake in my town, which looks like an endless sea, surrounded by surreal landscapes. I have always been a nature freak and Sweden has this bleak and gloomy atmosphere over its landscape that sticks around most of the year. I have drawn a lot of inspiration from the northern scenery and cold colors.  

    Tell us about your upcoming projects.

I am currently working on a project about existentialism. It is a project that I’ve been sketching out since my graduation from university in December 2016. I was inspired to create it after having moved to New York for work in 2017. During that year I began experiencing existential feelings of being lost; of being put out into a big world to find where I belonged. I hope to turn this project into a book and an exhibit.

I am also working on various other projects and collaborations. I have several exhibitions coming up. At the moment, my goal is to keep producing larger bodies of work, exhibit them, explore new directions, and grow as an artist.  

      Where can people find your work?

My website, Instagram, and Facebook.

See more Artist Spotlights.

Artist Spotlight: Swedish Visual Artist Gabriel Isak published first on https://medium.com/@OCEANDREAMCHARTERS

[carolinemillerbooks]

New Post has been published on Books by Caroline Miller

New Post has been published on https://www.booksbycarolinemiller.com/musings/still-analog-in-a-digital-age/

Still Analog In A Digital Age

A young woman on my Facebook page sent up a cheer for the Kodak company recently which puzzled me. The latest news on Kodak was that the  New York attorney general was filing papers to charge the company with insider trading.  As I write this blog, the stock is selling below $9 per share. In the past, it sold as high as  $60. Founded in the late 1800s, Kodak has had a checkered history, beginning with a near-monopoly in photographic film and equipment and ending in bankruptcy. As a youngster, I remember owning a box camera.  I earned it by collecting cereal cartons. Today, the company has graduated to techie stuff like 3-D printers. Whatever the business, owning stock is risky. Wall Street fortunes rise and fall each day without the predictability of a tide chart. I never count my money safe until it rests quietly in a savings account.  Given today’s interest rates, however, savings accounts won’t increase earnings.  For that, a person has to take some chances. Non-fungible tokens (NFT) are all the rage as an investment tool at the moment.  These are digital images created for a digital world, artworks or collectibles that people buy on the internet, and the transfer of ownership gets recorded on an electronic ledger.  Types of NFTs vary. All NFT owners can view their purchases online, but some artists refuse to allow those images to be printed and turned into hard copies. Says writer Olivia Hosken, the prohibition allows the artwork “to mature with technology.” (The Collector’s Lament,” by Olivia Hosken, Town&Country, Summer 2021, pg. 38.) NFTs are mumbo-jumbo to me. Owning one may be a good investment, but I can’t see much joy in possessing a jpeg I can’t hang on a wall.  Where’s the satisfaction for collectors who love art for itself? Modern minds have begun to grapple with that question. One answer is the electronic screen, coming soon to a living room or an iPad near you. (Ibid, pg. 38.) One day, they might even appear on refrigerator doors. Grimes, an artist who can’t be bothered with a second name, sells her NFTs for millions of dollars.  I doubt she cares where her images reside.  A shower wall might do. Given the trend, a person has to worry about the fate of picture framers.  Will their craft one day become a dead art? Thank heavens for grandparents! They will always demand a frame for their grandchild’s first tree painting. What’s more, that tree will hang in a place of honor, maybe for decades, or until its pigments fade. Frankly, NFTs are too otherworldly for me.  Too fleeting.  Too ephemeral. I’ve yet to put my trust in ATMs or smartphones. When it comes to owning artwork, give me something I can dust.  

[jeremystrele]

Glenn Barkley’s Great Clay Composts of History

Glenn Barkley’s Great Clay Composts of History

Studio Visit

by Elle Murrell

Inside the studio of Sydney-based artist Glenn Barkley. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Pieces for Glenn’s exhibition, Imayimightimust at Sullivan+Strumpf. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Words, drawn from popular songs or poetry, are emblazoned on his art, though purposefully hard to make out. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

The artist creates at Kil.n.it Experimental Ceramics Studio in Glebe (pictured), and at his family home in Berry. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

A student of horticulture, Glenn has a penchant for botanical motifs, particularly cacti and succulents. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

The forthcoming exhibition will feature 10 ceramic pots, new collages, paintings and a large-scale paste-up wallpaper. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Works in development. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Glenn admits he is an obsessive-compulsively collector and researcher of cultural artifacts. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

‘There is a sense that time is the great leveler and what is ephemeral is relegated to the skip bin of history,’ tells the 45-year-old artist, ‘ pottery has an inherent eternal potential’. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Glenn’s use of colour is inspired by garden tones. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Getting work ready for firing. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

‘I have compared my work to a compost pile of sorts,’ he tells. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Glenn’s exhibition opens this Thursday, with an artist’s talk. Photo– Jacqui Turk for The Design Files.

Though he works with clay, artist Glenn Barkley hasn’t had a lot of training in ceramics. It has all been keen observation and intuitive, hands-on experimentation, bar a six-week hand-building class he took with Cath Fogarty at Clay Pool in Sydney. Employing ‘straight-forward’ coiling and other hand-building methods, he works out of Kil.n.it Experimental Ceramics Studio in Glebe, and also his family home in Berry on the New South Wales South Coast.

Following a lauded showing at the 2018 Auckland Art Fair, comes Glenn’s new exhibition, Imayimightimust. This title is a positive affirmation that appealed to the artist, and no, we didn’t forget our spacing there. ‘I tend to use language in that way on my work – I use words a lot and the words always run into each other. Like a hashtag,’ Glenn explains. ‘Quite often they are so dense and hidden in the pots that they are totally obscured.’

The words themselves, if you’re a keen-eyed-enough to discern them, are drawn from popular songs or poetry. This prose has been emblazoned on 10 ceramic pots – including one work made from 25 separate elements (!) – as well as new collages, paintings, and a large-scale paste-up wallpaper.

The 45-year-old artist admits he’s somewhat of an obsessive-compulsive collector and researcher of cultural artifacts. He’s interested in the idea of time as well as archaeologists Heinrich Schliemann and Sir Arthur Evans – a fascination born from his first watch of Raiders of the Lost Ark. ‘I went and saw the objects that Evans collected at The Ashmolean Museum in May last year. There was a lot of pottery, including the amazing Minoan octopus jar,’ muses the ancient-history buff. And how do these inspirations come together in a cohesive body of clay work? ‘I have jammed everything together as if a great compost of history!’ Glenn asserts.

He doesn’t just mean ‘compost’ figuratively either. A student of horticulture, Glenn’s penchant for botanical motifs, particularly cacti and succulents, is clearly evident in his art. ‘I find that gardening is quite closely aligned to exhibition making,’ he says. ‘I use colours in my work that I think come from the garden, lots of different shades and tones of green for instance, and I have compared my work to a compost pile of sorts.’

When asked how Imayimightimust compares to past exhibitions, like Overundersidewaysdown and Yetmorecontemporaryart, the artist is characteristically tongue-in-cheek: ‘Most artists believe the newest body of work is the best one,’ Glenn hints!

Imayimightimust by Glenn Barkley June 7th to 23rd Opening night and artist talk Thursday, June 7th 6-8pm Sullivan+Strumpf Sydney 799 Elizabeth Street Zetland, New South Wales

Glenn Barkley will also be both artist and curator for the exhibition, Meditation on a bone: Albert Tucker beyond the Modern at Heide Museum of Modern Art in September this year.

[dwight11carrero]

Event Report - Microsoft Build 2018 - AI, IoT and bringing it together

We had the opportunity to attend Microsoft's developer conference Build, held from May 7th till 9th 2018 at the Seattle Convention Center in Seattle. Attendance with over 7k attendees, and a large global representation of the press colleagues makes this one of the best attended events from an influencer perspective. 

Prefer to watch – here is my event video … (if the video doesn't' show up – check here):

Here is the 1 slide condensation (if the slide doesn't show up, check here): 

Event Report - Microsoft Build - AI, Azure, IoT and Windows Push from Holger Mueller

Want to read on? Here you go: Big push on IoT. IoT got a lot of keynote time across Nadella and Guthrie, Microsoft is pushing big on the IoT edge with its offering Intelligent Edge with IoT, where it can deploy a subset of its capabilities, in similar way like Azure Stack. It might be even that both capabilities share similar product features. For enterprises to be able to deploy the same code – e.g. for analytics, on Azure as well as IoT Edge is an interesting product strategy and roadmap. Microsoft also announced support for Cloud Events, the CNCF Event Grid project, it's the only public cloud vendor at the moment to be able to consume and produce events. That matters as it can make Azure the preferred cloud for these events. Certainly the other IaaS players will not rest, and may well come up with the ability to product / publish events. We will have to see if this big push pays off on the next quarters. 

Nadella opens Build 2018

AI getting ready. Microsoft has a long history investing into AI, this Build conference was the culmination of that effort. In general, the vendor has adopted neural networks now, offering a collection of 25+ machine learning services, that can be easily consumed. The race is on to make every developer a data scientist, and Microsoft has tied the competition now – both on an algorithm and ease of adoption level. On the partnership side, Microsoft confirmed the progress on project Brainwave, as well as ONNX. Both are initiatives aimed at interoperability of ML algorithms and the desire to catch up to Google. The most prominent members are AWS, Facebook and Microsoft. Good to see the progress, but adoption vs. the popular Google Tensorflow will be the real test. Interestingly, the Windows ML capability that powers Windows intelligence processes, is as well ONNX based. That's a key step, to potentially open Windows ML / AI capabilities to ONNX build models. Microsoft also announced the availability of its FPGA infrastructure. Announced a few years ago, Microsoft reported in September 2016 (see here), at Ignite, that most of its Azure servers now have a FPGA. Not sure what took 1.5 years, but good for Microsoft to be here today. 

Nadella and the two Microsoft platforms: Azure and Microsoft 365

Windows with Innovation. The 2018 edition of Build marked the first time that Microsoft did not have a Windows keynote at Build. I have previously voiced my concern on the way how Microsoft split up Windows (see here), the job at Build for the most Windows messaging was with Microsoft veteran Joe Belfiore in the Tuesday keynote (as part of the Modern Workplace keynote). And Microsoft has done a lot in Windows, especially in the April Update. The underlying magic sauce remains the Microsoft Graph, the ephemeral graph of users, their devices, and their digital assets. It was good to see the Graph in action as part of the developer demo. The new Timeline feature is an interesting innovation and making Windows a human operating system. Humans don't think in file and folder structures, but in time, so being able to get back to a document a user created last week – by the time and not by the folder is a key step to make the working with Windows more human. The same principles apply to the new Sets capabilities, which bring together browser assets as well as Win32 assets – all neatly in tabs next to each other. It's a key step to make Windows more of a workspace – than a collection of apps and files. Both Sets and Timeline are a key innovation with integrative DNA, bringing capabilities together that previously had to be take care of manually, through navigation by the Windows user – a change for the better. Lastly all these capabilities need intelligence, and Microsoft added Windows ML, the ability to run ONNX models. That's a nice compatibility move for the overall Microsoft AI / ML strategy – and gives ML developers an instant, huge install base. Smart move.  

Belfiore opens the Day #2 Keynote

Azure with Innovation. Azure captured the post Nadella keynote spot, that Scott Guthrie executed in his usual reliable fashion. Kudos to Guthrie with the best keynote punchline at Build (“Let me add value” – when holding a microphone). Apart from more data centers, location and the above-mentioned Event Grid (that runs on Azure Service Fabric) the key attraction for enterprises in Azure remain Cosmos DB. Debuted last year, on the assets of the former DocumentDB, Cosmos DB is what powers the Microsoft Graph (my stipulation, never confirmed by Microsoft to my knowledge) and as such is a super powerful, distributed database, that runs in pretty much all Azure data centers. The synergies of Microsoft opening datacenters for Office, that requires Graph, that requires CosmosDB are at full work. If a CxO decides to build on CosmosDB it's highly likely it will be, in the latest version, in all Azure data centers. Adding the 5 9s to read and write reliability is an amazing SLA for next gen applications.   

Guthrie adds value (joke) w Hanselmann

Visual Studio gets more team support. Always good to see Microsoft's continued innovation in Visual Studio, it's Microsoft's premier IDE… and a key reason why developers attend Azure. More team and group support are coming, as well as more comprehensive DevOps support. All good progress coupled with former investments in Xamarin and more. The main concern remains the lack of a packagked PaaS offering from Microsoft, I asked Guthrie if that is coming, and it doesn't seem to be in the plans for the next 12 months. And with that Microsoft misses the opportunity to be the partner of the CIO / CTO who needs to build and deliver a next gen application – from the requirements collection all the way to device management. Microsoft has many of the required pieces, but the need to get stitched together on a project level – something which is additional, and if done incorrectly, risky work. CxOs want that from a vendor, not to be a task for their development teams.

Visual Studio Dashboard - can a developer portal look so good?

MyPOV

Another good Build conference for Microsoft, with almost too many announcements and progress across the board. The biggest impact is likely the AI push, that (finally) has moved to the new gold standard, neural networks (not just in pockets, but across the board). Good to see the FPGA feature getting delivered, but when compared to the hardware innovation of Google, it is slow progress, maybe even too slow delivery here. Between the announcement and delivery of the FPGA capability of Microsoft, Google has been comfortable to announce TPU 3.0 in the same week, an 8x improvement over the TPU 2.0 pods. Microsoft needs to move faster here, as next to data gravity, we are seeing a new gravity emerge, the one of the custom ML hardware, that is faster and cheaper than the competition to create and operate neural networks, powered by deep learning networks (DLN). Microsoft is not alone in the dilemma, its Seattle neighbor AWS has the same challenge here (a likely driver for Project Brainwave in in my POV. The cost of crating and running AI / ML is a key consideration of future next gen App deployments. Finishing the concern section, Microsoft, as the top three cloud vendor with the deepest enterprise roots and access, needs a better PaaS strategy to attract enterprises and their next generation application load. A partnership with CloudFoundry is not enough. An end to end, packaged PaaS suite that takes advantage of all the fast growing capabilities of Azure, AI, ML and more is what enterprises want and expect from Microsoft. It's too early to say what will happen with the new Windows setup, I learnt positive aspects of the move, but my concerns remain intact at this early point after the announcement, future will tell. What is certainly true is that the elimination of Windows from a nominal platform perspective makes the overall Microsoft platform message simpler. It's now Azure and Microsoft 365 (Windows part of the latter). Compared to e.g. 5 years ago - where it was Windows, Azure and Office. On the bright side, Azure service fabric, the push on IoT, the edge capabilities, Azure Stack, Cosmos DB are all valid differentiators for Microsoft and CxOs are paying attention to them. And the direction where Windows is heading, also based on a private conversation with Belfiore, towards a more human Windows, that brings together work artifacts in a better way, are all positive takeaways and differentiator. Now let's see what happens in the next months of 2018… stay tuned.

More on Microsoft:

Musings - Why splitting Windows is Nadella's first major mistake - read here

Progress Report - Microsoft wants to enable the digital feedback loop with its Biz Apps and more - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft and SAP join forces to give customers a trusted path to digital transformation in the cloud - read here

Top Event Questions [Anwered] - Microsoft Ignite and Envision 2017 - read here

Event Report - Microsoft Ignite / Envision 2017 - Broad push - few highlights - read here

Event Report - July 2017 Microsoft London AI Event - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft to deliver Microsoft Cloud from datacenters in Africa - Azure learns Afrikaans to Zulu (and 9 more) - read here

Event Report - Microsoft Build 2017 - Good Housekeeping, laying foundation, deliver on vision - read here

Down Report – Power failure takes Azure services down - 3 Cloud Load Toads - read here

Event Report - Microsoft Connect - No April's Fools - Linux, Google and more  - read here

First Take - Microsoft discovers teams - launches Microsoft Teams - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft announces SAP's choice of Azure to help enterprises transform HR  - The SaaS land grab is on  - read here

First Take - Microsoft Ignite - AI, Adobe and FPGA [From the Fences] - read here

News Analysis - GE and Microsoft partner to bring Predix to Azure - Multi-Cloud becomes tangible for IoT - read here

Market Move - Microsoft acquired Linked - Tons of synergies, start with Cortana, maybe too many - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft opens Windows Holographic to partners for a new era of mixed reality - read here

News Analysis - SAP and Microsoft usher in new era of partnership to accelerate digital transformation in the cloud - read here

Musings - Will Microsoft's Hololens transform the Future of Work? Read here

Event Report - Microsoft Build 2016 - A platform vision and plenty of tools for next generation applications - read here

First Take - Microsoft Build 2016 - Day 1 Keynote Takeaways - read here

Event Preview - Microsoft Build 2016 - Top 3 Things to watch for developers, managers and execs...  read here

News Analysis - Microsoft - New Hybrid Offerings Deliver Bottomless Capacity for Today's Data Explosion - read here

News Analysis - Welcoming the Xamarin team to Microsoft - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft announcements at Convergence Barcelona - Office365. Dynamics CRM and Power Apps 

News Analysis - Microsoft expands Azure Data Lake to unleash big data productivity - Good move - time to catch up - read here

News Analysis - Microsoft and Salesforce Strengthen Strategic Partnership at Dreamforce 2015 - Good for joint customers - read here

News Analyis - NetSuite announced Cloud Alliance with Microsoft - read here

Event Report - Microsoft Build - Microsoft really wants to make developers' lives easier - read here

First Hand with Microsoft Hololens - read here

Event Report - Microsoft TechEd - Top 3 Enterprise takeaways - read here

First Take - Microsoft discovers data ambience and delivers an organic approach to in memory database - read here

Event Report - Microsoft Build - Azure grows and blossoms - enough for enterprises (yet)? Read here.

Event Report - Microsoft Build Day 1 Keynote - Top Enterprise Takeaways - read here.

Microsoft gets even more serious about devices - acquire Nokia - read here.

Microsoft does not need one new CEO - but six - read here.

Microsoft makes the cloud a platform play - Or: Azure and her 7 friends - read here.

How the Cloud can make the unlikeliest bedfellows - read here.

How hard is multi-channel CRM in 2013? - Read here.

How hard is it to install Office 365? Or: The harsh reality of customer support - read here.

Want to learn more? Checkout the Twitter Moment below (if it doesn't show up – check here). A Twitter Moment for the Day #2 keynote is here. Find more coverage on the Constellation Research website here and checkout my magazine on Flipboard and my YouTube channel here.

Microsoft Build 2018 - Day #1 Keynote

2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017 and 2018 (c) Holger Mueller - All Rights Reserved