boy it has been a Day at work

aaaand part 2 featuring gojō! thank ya again for the request :) @alibrick1

find part one ft. megumi here!

A - Asking You Out

Satoru Gojō x Fem! Reader

as always if y’all enjoy this please remember that reblogs are greatly appreciated :D

Gojō is convinced that he is god’s gift to humanity and there is nothing that could convince him otherwise.

That being said, even since he was young, there weren’t really many people that tried to convince him otherwise, he was often pandered to either for his power, his looks, or both so while he may not entirely be a narcissist, he certainly doesn’t have any self esteem issues.

Of course along with the general praise he got, as he got older, he began to gain significantly more romantic and/or sexual attention from others and there was hardly a place he could go without feeling eyes on him, hell he could have had a record breaking collection of phone numbers that had been slipped to him over the years if he had actually bothered to keep any of them, yet very few of them ever caught his eye.

If they did, it was more out of a sense of him needing, to put it plainly, a quick fuck for some stress relief or fun and not someone he had much intention of keeping in contact with. He didn’t have time for stuff like that anyways and he figured if he did find someone worth his while, he would make time.

Well, now he was making time.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for you, you had peaked his interest almost from the moment he met you, though he didn’t start really considering the idea of being with you until much more recently. When he did though, he made it very clear.

His flirting was almost constant whenever you were around and actually, he asked you out on quite a few dates because asking was never the problem. He was a simple man, if he wanted something, he would go for it, so he was never nervous or hesitant about his intentions. You, on the other hand, weren’t quite the same.

The handful of times you had turned him down weren’t because you didn’t like him, in fact you did like him, too much for your own good in your eyes. You didn’t misinterpret his intentions or think he was lying, if he only wanted to get into your pants then he would have said so, so you believed he genuinely wanted to get to know you better, but that wasn’t really the problem.

The problem was that you couldn’t grasp Gojō and the reality was that you would never be able to do so. What he saw and knew of the world was so beyond anything you could even begin to comprehend, he saw and understood things that no one else could. He was leagues away from you in that sense and for some reason, you really hated that idea. You would always be beneath him in a sense, your naivety may have even been endearing to him for all you knew, so you put your foot down and told him ‘no’ many times, convinced that it would be better not to risk anything or even try.

He had an idea of your thought process, but surprisingly enough, that was something he didn’t quite know how to navigate. He was the best, after all, and being the best was often lonely. He would never expect you to be able to understand everything he did, in fact he really couldn’t care less about that difference between the two of you. He liked you and you were someone who made his time on earth worth enjoying, it was that simple for him, but he didn’t know where he could begin to convince you of the same, to just let go of inhibitions and trust that he just wanted to enjoy his time with someone he had developed feelings for.

Because of this, for a long time things stayed the same between the two of you, both of you knowing about the others feelings, yet nothing really coming of it. He’d ask you out, you’d say no, then back to business as usual. It got to a point where he was actually getting a bit frustrated because he knew you felt the same for him and yet he couldn’t get past whatever wall you had built up to keep him out. It frustrated him enough that he began complaining to Nanami about it, something he did painfully often much to Nanami’s dismay, but despite being younger than Gojō, he had to admit that he had some solid advice.

He suggested that he stop asking you out on dates, which at first just made Gojō groan in annoyance, but Nanami was quick to explain that what he meant was that he should stop putting the idea in a romantic context and instead make it seem like nothing more than two colleagues hanging out. Gojō thought about it for a second, which was much longer than he usually thought things like this through, before giving a thankful pat on the shoulder and going off on his way.

He didn’t intend to waste time and as far as he knew, you were probably making dinner for the first years, something you usually did on Friday evenings to give them time to relax after a week’s worth of training and missions. So that’s where he went, paying little mind to his students who sat around in the commons area arguing over this or that as they usually did and instead making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Yo, (Y/N).~”

You immediately jumped, your mind having been preoccupied with cutting up some vegetables for curry before turning around to glare at the man who had so kindly interrupted your daydreaming.

“I could have sliced my finger off you know.” “Yeah? You’d really do anything to get my attention, hm?”

You simply rolled your eyes and stifled a laugh, returning your focus to what you were doing, but he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you from his place leaning against the doorframe.

“Can I help you or do you intend to stare all evening?” You questioned, turning your back to gently pour your vegetables into the hot skillet you had waiting on the stovetop.

“Was going to ask you to go out for drinks with me once you’re done coddling my students.”

You stopped for a moment, letting out a sigh as you fiddled around with the now sizzling veggies.

“Are we really going to keep going through this or-“ “Ahh, don’t be like that, I’m not asking you out on a date. Just wanted to hang out, that’s all. As friends.” He replied, raising his hands defensively as you turned to face him with your hands on your hips.

That caused you to raise an eyebrow skeptically as you searched his face, trying to figure out what he was doing. Of course you were just about to nag him about knocking it off with the faux romancing, but you didn’t expect him to actually do so.

“As friends?” You replied flatly.

“What, is that too generous? Fine then, as ‘coworkers-that-are-on-good-terms’.”

You laughed, knowing he knew damn well that wasn’t what you meant and he couldn’t help but smile, it always made him a little giddy when he could coax that cute laughter out of you without you holding back.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I’ll go with you.” You hummed, turning back around to focus on the task at hand. If he was ready to cut his losses and settle for the weird in between thing that the two of you had going on, you were more than happy to oblige. Oh, if only you knew that there was no way in hell your resilience would last, but that’s a different thought for a later time.

“Great!” He said with a clap of his hands. “Then as a friend I’m obligated to tell you that I have no intention of paying for any of your drinks. Or a cab if you get wasted. Since, yknow, it’s not like we’re together. That would be gross. See ya.~”

With that he was gone, a grin on his face that he wasn’t even going to bother trying to hide as his pride was bolstered almost instantly and his excitement over the simple prospect of getting drinks with you had him feeling like a teenager again. To be honest, you were feeling much the same as you blamed the heat that fanned your cheeks on the steaminess of the kitchen. You couldn’t, however, blame the smile that spread across your face on anything of the sort, but for now you were fine with chalking it up to the fact that you were just excited to be going out for once and definitely not thrilled to spend time with someone who was nothing more than a ‘friend’. Maybe a small part of you knew this would happen one day and your resolve to deny him would falter, but like you had thought before, that was simply another problem for another time.

David x Patrick - Angst-fest with lots of cuddles and h/c reunion fic.

Summary - Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough.  Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.  After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he’s not going to walk away again.

Chapter 10 (spoiler - Stevie shows up).  A03.  

Patrick really does make David keep his arms around him there in the booth at the diner for an inordinate amount of time.  He knows that David can’t hug his issues away, and it isn’t fair of Patrick to expect him to.  Patrick is going to take ownership of this, and do something about it.  But even though he knows he has to do it himself, it’s also very scary.  And letting himself come to terms with his own revelation is just easier to do with his face in the crook of David’s neck.

They finally separate, and bicker amiably about the check, David sneaking off while Patrick is in the bathroom to order extra muffins to take home and hand over his credit card.  Patrick doesn’t much care for the reminder that he’s unemployed, but David does have a point that he’s living in Patrick’s house at the moment – his parents’ house, but still.  And it seems to make David feel good to treat Patrick, and if there’s anything Patrick can get behind right now, it’s doing everything he can to make this work.

Unfortunately, when they pull up to the house to the sight of a beat up red sedan with an Ontario license plate, Patrick’s heart sinks.

“Patrick?  You said your parents wouldn’t be here until January. They’re very early.”

“That’s not my parents.”

“Well, it’s not Doordash.  As much as I’d applaud planning ahead for dinner, they’re unlikely to have driven all the way from Canada.  Who’s in your driveway?”  David’s voice is rising, and Patrick is entirely too familiar with his agitated-bordering-on-panicked tone.  

“David, don’t be upset.”  Patrick shuts off the car and turns towards David.

“Mmkay, those words usually come before something that’s going to make me upset.”

They get out of the car but before Patrick even makes it to the front door, it opens and Stevie comes out.  

David turns to Patrick, a look of betrayal on his face.  “I can’t believe you did this to me,” he hisses.

“Hi to you too,” Stevie says, her voice flat.  “And don’t you dare blame Patrick, he didn’t do anything.”

“Well I sure didn’t invite you down here.”

“Right, my presence is unwanted, I get that, believe me,” Stevie says.  “But some of us have a job to do-”

“Don’t you dare come at me about work, Stevie, I’m on vacation.”

“And if you had just told me that at the beginning of the week, instead of playing hard to get like a god damned asshole-”

“Okay, that’s enough.”  Patrick finds himself next to David, a hand on his shoulder, glaring at Stevie.  He can feel David trembling under his palm.

“Yeah, like any of this is my fault,” Stevie mumbles.  She’s wearing a familiar flannel over a v-neck t-shirt, but the look on her face is like nothing Patrick has ever seen before.  It’s a deep hurt, and when he turns to look at David, he sees it there as well.  This has got to stop.

“Could we maybe go inside?” Patrick asks, sliding his hand down David’s body to the small of his back, bringing them closer together.  It’s not raining as hard as it was this morning, but the misty drizzle certainly isn’t helping the situation.

David disappears briefly when they get indoors.  “How did you even get into the house?” Patrick asks Stevie, still trying to figure out how to manage this situation.

“The spare key was in a fake turtle next to the front door, it wasn’t exactly hard.”

Patrick resolves to have another conversation with his parents about security, although he supposes their approach is slightly better than their previous practice of leaving the key under the mat.

David returns a few moments later with a different black sweater on, the hood pulled up over his head.  He looks miserable.  Patrick wishes they could go back to the diner and stay there forever, arms around each other and the aroma of pancakes all around them.  His instincts in that regard were apparently spot on.

“Tell me why you’re here,” David says to Stevie, a hand on his hip.  

Stevie backs up a step into the kitchen, fiddling with a tea towel that says “Livin’ the Dream” on it in flowery aqua script.  She looks cornered.  Patrick considers encouraging them all to sit down and have a cup of tea first, like a scene from a British novel.

“Rose Motel Group is always evaluating new territories for growing the business,” Stevie says.  “Since you declared your interest in the southeast U.S., your father suggested I come down here and check it out.”

“That’s ridiculous, I only talked to him about it a few days ago.”

“It was actually the next territory on our list, after mid-Atlantic coastal, he just moved it up.”

“That’s still ridiculous,” David mutters, looking to Patrick for confirmation.  “We hardly do any business in the U.S.”

“We do, we have a dozen motels in upstate New York and New England, and you’d know that if you ever attended the management meetings instead of pretending that your wi-fi has mysteriously gone out.  A middle schooler is better at zoom than you are.”

“Zoom meetings give me migraines.”

“That’ll be a real advantage now that you’re working remotely.”

“Is that what this is about?  I’m not on the moon, Stevie, I’m just in Florida.  It’s hardly going to interfere with my ability to place orders with the same two dozen vendors I’ve been working with for years.”

Patrick finally forces himself to move, stepping in between them.  “How about some tea?”

This causes both David and Stevie to freeze and blink at him like he’s lost his mind.  

“Go on, go sit down,” Patrick waves them towards the living room.

They take up seats on the opposite ends of the couch, hesitantly facing each other like nervous cats.  Patrick never really got to the bottom of what happened between them after his and David’s break-up.  He has a feeling that he’s about to find out.

He busies himself making tea, getting the kettle out of the cabinet and filling it with water and searching in the cabinets for the tea bags and sugar.  But the living room is only a few feet away, and he can hear the silence stretch until Stevie finally speaks up.

“You look good,” she says to David – and Patrick nearly drops the kettle, he’s so surprised to hear these words come out of Stevie’s mouth at this point.

“Thanks,” David says, sounding oddly flattered.  “So do you.”

“When was the last time we saw each other?” Stevie asks.  “Last Christmas?”

“The RMG holiday party,” David agrees.  “Almost a year ago.”

“How’s Alexis?”

Patrick doesn’t understand how they went from biting each other’s heads off to awkward small talk.

“She’s okay.  She needs more clients, but she seems happy enough.”

A pause, and then - “David, if you and Patrick are going to be back together, maybe you and I can-”

“Don’t.”  The suddenly bitter tone in David’s voice pulls at Patrick’s heart.

“But-”

“Give it up, Stevie.  It’s too late.”

“Why, exactly?  Come on, David, I’m the least emotionally mature person I know, after you of course, and even I can see that we don’t need to do this anymore.”

“What, I’m just supposed to ask you to forgive me and we’d be friends again, just like that?”

“You could try it.  And maybe tell me why you cut me off in the first place.”

“It’s better if we just stick to business.”  David stands up and starts pacing.  There’s not much space in the living room, between the couch and the armchair and the coffee table.  It cramps his style.  “That was going fine, at least until you showed up here.”

“Fine?  How is it fine, that we went from being best friends-” Stevie’s voice catches, “to <i>colleagues</i> who only talk when Mr. Rose needs me to get vendor information from you?  How is that fine?”

“I don’t know how this is going to end up,” David says, waving his hands.  “I’ll probably fuck it up again somehow.  No matter how hard I try, that’s always what happens.  I don’t want to, I really don’t want to, but I’m very familiar with my life, Stevie.  I ruin everything.”

Patrick realizes with a pang that David is talking about the two of them.

“And when I do,” David goes on, “Patrick’s still going to need you.  I’m not taking that away from him.  I gave you to him, and it’s going to stay that way.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”  Stevie says, her voice going even quieter.  In Patrick’s experience, this indicates that she is truly furious.  “You can’t <i>give</i> me to someone.”

“I had Alexis.  Patrick didn’t have anyone.  He even lost the store.  He needed you more than I did.  I couldn’t take you away from him.”

“Did it never occur to you,” Stevie says, snapping out each word, “that I might want a say in the matter?  That I might not want to lose either of you?  That maybe, I don’t know, I could stay friends with you both?”

“That’s not how it works in a break-up, and you know it.  Everyone chooses sides.  I needed you to choose Patrick.”

“So you ditched our friendship and stopped returning my calls so I would take Patrick’s side?”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the time!”  David yells, and Patrick feels like his heart beats out of his chest with pain as David deflates, his head in his hands.  “I just needed you to be there for him,” he says softly.

“You really are a fuck-up, David Rose,” Stevie says, her voice calmer.  “But I’m going to be the bigger person here, and not let you fuck this up any more.”

Stevie stands up and moves over to David, who reluctantly takes his hands away from his face to watch her approach.  As he looks around, David catches Patrick watching them.  His eyes grow wide as he realizes that their conversation has been overheard, and he grabs Stevie’s arm, rapidly ushering her out the front door.

“What the hell, David?”  Stevie protests, but she goes along with him.  

Patrick watches through the kitchen window, unable to drag his eyes away.  David and Stevie are standing near the end of the driveway, and he can see David’s hands waving, and Stevie shaking her head at him.  Then Stevie drags David into a hug, holding him tight as he squirms before accepting it.  David’s head finally drops onto her shoulder, and they stay that way for a long moment.  When they pull apart, Stevie punches him – fondly? – on the chest, then gets into her car and drives away.  

Patrick goes outside, joining David at the end of the driveway as they watch Stevie’s car go around the corner.

“She has an appointment at a motel,” David says.  “She’ll be back in time for dinner.  She told me to order Thai, and get both kinds of satays.”  David seems almost stunned at how he’s able to talk about Stevie like this now.  

Patrick puts a hand on David’s shoulder.  “You okay?”

David shakes himself, looking skyward and then back off in the direction of the road.  “A little… fizzy.”

It’s not a word Patrick’s heard David use before to describe his state, but Patrick thinks he gets it.

“Too much emotion?”

David glares a little at Patrick.

“I’m going to make it worse,” Patrick says, biting back a smile as David’s glare intensifies.

“I really don’t need that right now.”  David takes Patrick’s hand from his shoulder and holds it firmly, walking them back into the house.  This time Patrick actually closes the door behind them, and then turns to David, who is fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater, pulling them down over his fingers.

“David.”  Patrick catches his gaze.  “It takes two people to tank a relationship.”

“Sure.”

“No, really –  what happened between us was my fault, too.  You know that.  You can’t take it all on yourself.  And it’s not all on you to make it work this time, either.”

David purses his lips, looking down at the floor.

“Hey.”  Patrick moves closer, his hands squeezing David’s shoulders.  “I’m in this, too.  As hard as you’re going to try not to fuck this up, I’ll be right there with you, okay?  This is important to me, too.  Really important.”

David nods several times in succession.

“And there’s one more thing.”

David glances at him.  “What?”

“I don’t agree with your methods, but…” His mind flashes back to those days and weeks after their break-up, when it hurt just to breathe, when he was so lost and miserable, save for a friend who showed up with whiskey and ice cream and helped him through it.  

“But what?”

“You gave me Stevie,” Patrick says, gratitude in his voice.  After Patrick broke David’s heart, David gave up his best friend because he still cared about Patrick and didn’t want him to be alone.  <i>That’s not nothing,</i> he hears in David’s voice.

“Are you going to lecture me about that too?”

“No.  I should, but – nope.”

David looks at him, his gaze open and disbelieving.

“And probably Stevie would say she can take care of herself on this point.”

A smile creeps into David’s cheek. “Hmmph.”

“Instead,” Patrick pushes David up against the kitchen island and cups his face in his hands, “I’m just going to say one thing.”

“What’s that?” David asks, his eyes alight.

“I love you, too.”

— RENDEZVOUS; 1

pairing: namjoon x reader overall genre: celebrity!au, fluff, smut, some angst words: 1.2k chapters: I, II

SUMMARY — namjoon kim, better known by his stage name rm (or his english name nathan), is a rapper on the verge of making it big. after being on forbes’ 30 under 30, his fame is rising exponentially. unfortunately, with fame comes crazy fans who’d do anything if it meant being able to breathe the same air as you. fortunately, however, y/n is a designer who’s next collection is in dire need of pr to avoid another 2k19 situation. luckily for both of them, they’re just what each of them needs.

or, “fuck all that fame shit; cause this be our rendezvous” - rendezvous; junny

Late nights were nothing new to Namjoon. The studio and all of its comforting edges and echoes had become a second home to him. Fortunately, the bright city lights dotting the dimmed skyline of the Manhattan island never ceased to amaze him. What with its 24/7 activity, seeing the city come alive in the night had become something he found solace in. Hell, he’d even go as far as saying that it was the one thing keeping him going these days. Well, that and the Forbes magazine he was peeling through, his fingers moving fast enough that the pages turned with added zest, a signal of how crisp they were. 

His back leaned up against the couch pushed up against the right side of the room, his long limbs crossed one over the other in a position that made his best friend, Hoseok, cringe as he opened the door to the studio. Namjoon looked over his shoulder for a split second before returning his gaze to the magazine, his lips pressing into a thin line revealing his familiar dimples.

“Page 45,” Hoseok spoke picking up on his best friend’s seemingly desperate search for his headlining page in Forbes magazine. 

Namjoon glanced up, acknowledging the choreographer before returning back to his search, finding the page and finally chiming, “That was much more anti-climatic than I expected.”

Hoseok chuckled, a small snort escaping his nose as he set his bag on the floor. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Did you pick up those things I needed from Seokjin? He insisted that someone pick them up in person, something about the jaded insensitivity of my work ethic interfering with meaningful interactions with human beings.”

“I don’t know why I ever consider defending you when you say things like that.” He responded, handing the rapper the flimsy, stapled pieces of paper held together in a pale yellow folder labeled, “PR Meeting Notes - RM”.

Namjoon stared at the older male inquiringly, as if questioning what he said although Hoseok was about 85% sure that he knew exactly what he meant. Even after all the time that the two had been friends, Hoseok couldn’t help but listen in awe whenever he slipped into his habit of using the largest words humanely possible to explain the simplest of ideas. 

He flipped through the pages after reaching out for them, skimming over the black letters emblazoned on the stark white paper. He chuckled at a small note Seokjin, his loyal manager, had made concerning the impending launch of Namjoon’s next album. 

‘They also think the font is butt ugly, so change it.’

Hoseok wandered around the studio as Namjoon continued flipping through the pages, finally settling on one of the couches facing the one Namjoon had nearly folded his lanky upper body in half on. The dancer couldn’t help but notice one of the notes on the page, referring to a familiar name he remembered reading in the same Forbes magazine that had featured Namjoon in their latest issue.

Pointing it out, Hoseok spoke up, “Wasn’t she on the ‘30 Under 30′ too?” 

Namjoon turned his attention to the name scribbled on the page, it was familiar to him too. He quickly recognized it.

“Yeah, she’s #6, up and coming fashion designer, pretty big deal right now, why?”

“I think you should give Jin a call,” Hoseok murmured underneath his breath, fully gaining Namjoon’s attention for the first time that evening.

‘Broken Clocks Collection drops in 3 weeks, speak with PR team concerning possible stunt.’

Now Namjoon was no stranger to PR stunts, being a popular music artist in a PR-stunt-centric entertainment industry he had witnessed one or two of his colleagues go through their own stunts, some more successful than others. While he was aware of a need for elaborate stunts and schemes, he had never needed one, ever. His music spoke for itself in addition to his loyal fan-base and constant stream of new devoted fans every day, his team had never considered PR stunts to be a viable solution to any problem especially not one a simple Instagram post could resolve on its own. But desperate times call for desperate measures and with his biggest project yet releasing in a few short weeks, Namjoon assumed these were the most desperate of times.

“What kind of publicity could I possibly need from a designer?” Namjoon muttered, wondering out loud as he dialed his manager’s personal cell number.

“For a smart man you sure do ask dumb ass questions.” Hoseok responded.

“Yo, Seokjin, what the hell?”

“Good evening, Namjoon. I’m doing well, thank you for asking, how are you?”

Namjoon sighed before continuing, “What’s with the whole fashion designer thing?”

“It’s a PR stunt Kim Namjoon, you have an album being released as you first body of work since the Forbes article and, more importantly, Teen Vogue dubbed you the newest ‘Token Asian Boy’. The team wants to pull out all the stops, and maybe if the public thought you and the most hyped fashion designer in the game were dating, you could both pull in huge numbers.”

Namjoon massaged the sides of his nose bridge, squeezing his eyes shut before fully internalizing what Seokjin had just said. 

“Dating? Seokjin--”

“I know what you’re going to say, ‘But Seokjin, my morals’, may I remind you that the biggest allure to today’s celebrities is the fact that they are taken by some lucky person. People love, love and if you can maximize that as much as you can, your album goes platinum first two weeks, guaranteed. You might not even have to go through with it if her team isn’t in line with ours.”

Namjoon contemplated his point. It was true, and he knew for a fact that as one of his closest friends and manager, Seokjin would never jeopardize his career in any way, knowing the shit he went through in order to get to where he was. So, he gave in. 

“Fine, I’ll meet with her and her team as long as we do this in the most honest way possible.”

“Unless you plan on actually dating and falling in love, I’m not sure--”

“Seokjin,” Namjoon exasperated, a small whine entering his voice.

“Fine, you have a meeting tomorrow in Times Square.”

“How will I even get there, Seokjin, I live in--”

“I’ll get you an Uber, superstar. Get some sleep please, I will drop you if there’s another Pete Devidson comparison, eye bags are not cute.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Namjoon pressed the red button as he pulled his phone away from his ear, sighing as he looked towards Hoseok who’s bold smile told him all he needed to know. 

And so it began, like something out of a bad rom-com, Namjoon would be placing the hype and success of his next project in the hands of a designer whom he’d never met. And the biggest caveat? He was supposed to be completely in love with her.

“I have a headache.”

Finding Peace Q/A

Questions and Answers: (WARNING: Many of these questions and answers have spoilers for Finding Peace.)

Q: How did Whiteout find out about the Realm Between and the Dream World? I thought only Adder and his close contacts knew.

A: A personal headcanon of mine is that the NightWings were one of the few tribes in Darkstalker’s era that focused on advanced theories in the same way scientists today have theories about Darkmatter. In Finding Peace: One of these theories was about the concept of there being worlds that existed parallel to the world dragons inhabited. Even when the NightWings relocated to the volcanic island, NightWing philosophers did not abandon these theories overnight since it’s implied the volcano did not become active until centuries later. In her twilight years, she would learn about this theory (which came from a NightWing philosopher’s circle that was formed by the students of the Seer Omniscience, a controversial Seer in NightWing history.) While Whiteout was not a Somnus, not knowing the full nature of these worlds, she eventually gained access to the Realm Between. How she exactly gained access to this realm is something I plan to explore in later stories. However, I can explain how she managed to communicate with her brother across the centuries. In the Realm Between: Time is a concept, not a law. This means those who enter the Realm, whether physically or mentally, can communicate with individuals from across time. But to do so requires two individuals to be in the same location of the realm. By sacrificing her foresight, Whiteout was able to use the Realm Between to communicate with Peacemaker through various times. The final time Whiteout speaks to Peacemaker is a month before her passing.

Q: Are we going to see Moon have that important conversation with Qibli? It was left open-ended in the final Winglet.

A: Yes, I can say with absolute certainty that we will see this conversation. However, what will happen after this conversation will be up in the air. Going into the Winglet: I wanted to show that even though characters like Moon and Qibli have their “Happy Ending”, that does not necessarily mean all trials are done when a relationship begins. In Darkness of Dragons, I felt that there were some unresolved points of concern in Moon and Qibli’s personalities that I imagine would cause their newfound relationship to suffer if those concerns aren’t addressed. Ms. Sutherland once said that because both Moon and Qibli are young dragons, anything can happen between the end of Darkness of Dragons and fifty years later. Some core issues that have caused Moon and Qibli to hit a bump in their relationship stems from differing priorities. Moon is a representative and the only active Seer in the world. Her word is valued by not just the Queens of Phyrria, but Pantala as well. But she knows this isn’t just going to be her future, that there is more on the horizon. She wants the perfect ending with Qibli...but she focuses too much on that ending and tries to take steps to make it perfect.

On the other talon, you have Qibli. Despite his love and loyalty to Moon and his friends, Thorn remains the big centerpiece of his world. After all, Thorn was his mother figure who brought him out of an unstable life. He owes everything to her. That means he will be what Thorn needs him to be: An advisor, a soldier...he will be any of those. Unfortunately, this means he puts a lot of other things on the back burner, his relationship with Moon in particular. This causes a lot of distance between the two. Into the Darkness and Our Sanctuary will not show this much-needed conversation, as these stories will follow Turtle, Kinkajou, and Winter’s storylines respectively. But as I write Braving the Tempest, I do hope to write a story that runs parallel to it that shows Winter, Qibli, and Moon...and how their subplot resolves.

Q: In the Winglet that focuses on Tempest's POV: You have her meet Clearsight. During the conversation, it looks like Tempest blames Clearsight for what happened to Darkstalker. I was wondering if you believe this and if you think Darkstalker did nothing wrong?

A: Do I hate Clearsight? No, absolutely not. I thought she was a very intelligent dragon with a good heart. She loved Darkstalker and tried to turn him from the dark path he was on. I do not blame her for Darkstalker's descent into madness. Darkstalker's actions were his own, he had every opportunity to turn back and be happy. He was the only obstacle to his happiness (as Peacemaker pointed out.) That being said, while Darkstalker is the cause of his madness and sadness, I do believe Clearsight could have helped convince him to abandon his ambitions and to just be happy. The scene in question was not meant to be a sign of hatred, but rather a critique of Clearsight's decisions leading up to Darkstalker's descent. When I originally wrote the scene, I wrote it with something in mind that Tui herself once said in a Q/A Biohazardia was in and posted on their Deviant Art page. The Question asked was along the lines of what could have Clearsight have done to turn Darkstalker away from his path. Tui answered that she believed that Clearsight did love Darkstalker, but deep down she did not trust him. That was the point of the earring she had Darkstalker give her in order to keep him from reading her mind. Tui thought that, if Clearsight had shown the visions she was afraid of, then Darkstalker could have chosen a better path. I admit while Darkstalker was to blame for his actions (nobody else made him kill Arctic, that was his decision, and his alone.) I do think things could have been different as Tui said. But I like to think Clearsight knew that if she had trusted him enough to share her visions, then maybe Darkstalker could have changed. Instead of focusing so much on the future Darkstalker (good or bad) and focused on the dragon, she loved in the present, then maybe things could have been different. When Tempest and Clearsight did meet in Tempest's limbo state, Clearsight used the personality she had while she knew Darkstalker as a way to test to see how far Tempest would go for Peacemaker. The reason she tested Tempest, was because the SeaWing had a personality Clearsight wished she had when she knew Darkstalker: And that was to focus on the present. That was the basis of Clearsight's personality after she arrived on Pantala. She urged her descendants to live their lives, day by day. The future was theirs to write. With Tempest, she needed to make sure that she held firm in her beliefs, that she could save Peacemaker even if the future was dark. So while I believe Clearsight could have done things differently, I want to make it clear that I do not consider her responsible for Darkstalker's own actions

Q: Will you explore quantum mechanics in future stories? (i.e. Time Travel.)

A: While I think time travel would be an interesting concept in Wings of Fire, unfortunately, it's not one I will be exploring in The Darkest Eclipse AU. My thoughts on time travel as a plot device are that it is a can of worms, one if not handled correctly can leave the readers confused (I know I have left many unanswered questions in Finding Peace, but that was simply because the answers to those questions I felt would be better explored outside of Peacemaker's POV). While there are ways for individuals from the past to communicate with someone in the future (such as Whiteout reaching out to Peacemaker throughout the story) there is no way for individuals from the future to physically travel to the past. The Darkest Eclipse prophecy focuses more on the Paranormal and how it relates to established magic and laws of physics in Wings of Fire canon (like how Somnus magic interacts with Animus magic.) That being said, if I were to explore Time Travel: I would follow the theory that time is a closed loop (as in the past cannot be changed, it has already been decided, and that any changes done to the timeline must occur in the future). This, I feel, can be properly explained and leave little confusion for the reader.

Q: TempestMaker or PeaceCliff?

A: Wait, there are ship names?

Jokes aside, I will say that at the end of Finding Peace: Peacemaker does not view Cliff or Tempest in a romantic light. He does love them as much as he loves his mother and Moon, they are important dragons to him and he cannot imagine his life without them. But he does not love them romantically. Will this change in the future? Likely. But for now, Peacemaker is not in the right space mentally to have a romantic relationship. He needs to discover what he wants with his life now that he is free to make it, discover what he wants to do with his future. Once all of the uncertainty in his life is cleared up, that could change.

Q: Apple Juice or Orange Juice? Also: Any tips for keeping a decent writing schedule?

A: I like both, but I lean heavily towards apple juice (always nice to start and end the day with something sweet to drink, but nothing too unhealthy.)

When it comes to writing schedules: What I did with Finding Peace was setting up deadlines for myself. I have always worked well under the knowledge that I have a deadline that I need to meet. Now, that being said, my preferred deadlines may not be for everyone. One of my best friends and colleagues, DONOVAN94, is able to get chapters for her stories out in a single week when she has everything planned out and ready! But that is because she has chapters outlined, and afterward all she needs to do is write in critical info. This works for her, but I always focused on posting one chapter a month. Now I explored posting multiple chapters in a month during the tail end of Finding Peace. While it worked out okay, it left me exhausted...and honestly, I am still tired after doing it.

All in all: My biggest advice to writers (whether fanfiction or writers who want to become published) is to work at your own pace. Set deadlines for yourself that you think you can meet, and never hesitate to experiment.

Q: Who is Omniscience? He is only mentioned at the end of the story when you posted The Darkest Eclipse Prophecy.

A: Omniscience was a NightWing seer who lived during the founding of the NightWing tribe, many centuries before Darkstalker’s era. During Darkstalker and Clearsight’s generation: Omniscience is regarded as one of the wisest seers in NightWing history, as well as the most controversial. Omniscience was born on a night when all three moons were full, but entered a “Thrice Lunar Eclipse'', with each moon eclipsing the other. Instead of receiving both mindreading and foresight NightWing abilities, Omniscience received only the power of foresight. However, because all three moons were technically full that night: The eclipse basically “overcharged” Omniscience’s foresight. This allowed him to see multiple millennia into the future with clarity even Clearsight did not have. However, despite this great power: Omniscience suffered from severe psychosis, causing him great difficulty in his early life to tell the difference between his visions, tricks of the mind, and reality. It’s because of his friends and family’s support did Omniscience learn to embrace his entire self, and became one of the wisest seers in NightWing history. He was controversial because of his philosophy that a wise Seer is not one who tries to map out the future for other dragons, but those who embrace the unknown of the future. In his prophecies he did not address large audiences, but instead, his prophecies addressed dragons in the future, offering them wisdom in difficult times he saw them face. The Darkest Eclipse Prophecy is one of his two final prophecies, alongside another prophecy. These two prophecies have long since been stored in a secret archive, somewhere in Phyrria.

Q: Which character was difficult for you to write in Finding Peace?

A: This might come off as strange, but the one character that was difficult to write throughout Finding Peace was actually Peacemaker himself. The reason this is the case centers around the circumstances of his “birth.” While, in canon, he is not the first year-old dragonet we have seen: But he is the first that was born out of Animus magic and his personality was made from that magic. While we have witnessed the perspective of those influenced by Animus enchantments (when Winter very briefly became Pyrite), Peacemaker is different as he will be living his life following an enchantment. Throughout Finding Peace, I had to balance the enchantment’s dictations and, yet, try to write Peacemaker so he was not simply someone being dictated by magic. In the end: I settled for the enchantment is in place in certain areas of his personality, while making Peacemaker strong-willed enough to actually have a choice of what he likes (as seen when he starts to show interest in food outside of strawberries or standing his ground when his friends were harassed.)

Q: Which is strongest: Animus or Somnus Magic?

A: At their core: Animus and Somnus magic are equal and capable of the same things. However, because of the rules around magic in the AU: It is too dangerous to use Animus magic in the Dream World, or Somnus Magic in the Waking World. As shown in Finding Peace: If you use them in worlds where they are not meant to exist, those worlds will seek to eliminate the magic and its user. The only place both magics can coexist safely in is The Realm Between, where it’s believed both magic originated from. In Finding Peace’s climax this happens, and from there: The power of the magic all depends on the skill of the user. So, long story short, neither magic is stronger than the other. While both magics have advantages and disadvantages depending on the realm of existence the user is currently located in when they are on the same playing field both magics would be left at a standstill.

Q: Most Peacemaker centric fics have Peacemaker be best friends with both Prince Cliff and Princess Auklet, why wasn’t Auklet in the story?

A: Truth is, Auklet was originally going to be one of Peacemaker’s friends in the Quartz Winglet. In my original outline: The main trio would have been Peacemaker, Cliff, and Auklet. Tempest was going to be The Jade Mountain Academy’s counselor, in which she used her Somnus magic to see what bothered the minds of the students. However, the more I thought about it, the more I felt Tempest would have a better role as a Clawmate of Peacemaker and Cliff.

Q: Are Tempest and Cliff reincarnations of Clearsight and Fathom?

A: Yes, Tempest and Cliff are both spiritual reincarnations. While they do not physically resemble Clearsight and Fathom, their spirits are connected to the two dragons. When I drafted Tempest and Cliff’s interactions with the spirits of the two dragons who had such a significant impact on Darkstalker’s life, I drew inspiration from the belief that reincarnation is spiritual, rather than physical (like pouring water from one cup into another cup.) Now, it’s important to note that while they are reincarnations of Clearsight and Fathom, this does not mean Tempest and Cliff are actually those two dragons. Rather, it just means their souls are similar. This allowed Tempest to speak with Clearsight, and Cliff speaks with Fathom when they were in a state of limbo.

Q: Where were Turtle, Kinkajou, and Peril during Finding Peace?

A: Peril is currently living in the Sky Kingdom. While she and Clay live together in the Academy, for the last few months Peril has been staying in the Sky Kingdom...waiting for an important day to occur. Once this day happens, she will be returning to her home in Jade Mountain.

As for Turtle and Kinkajou: Their whereabouts during Finding Peace will be addressed in Into the Darkness. But I will say that what is happening by the climax of Finding Peace is not good for Turtle or Kinkajou.

Q: Why did you include Somnus magic in Finding Peace?

A: When writing Finding Peace, I took into consideration how I could allow bits of Darkstalker’s memories and personality could bleed into Peacemaker. Given the nature of the enchantment, it would not be as simple as putting on a copy of Qibli’s enchanted earrings (Tui confirmed that Peacemaker would die if he put on the earrings.) So I needed to come up with a way that could allow Peacemaker’s slow rediscovery of his past life: And that was with the inclusion of Somnus magic and Adder, while also implying Peacemaker’s strong will allowed only part of the enchantment to take effect (it’s been shown that dragons with strong wills can overcome Animus enchantments.) With Adder tormenting Peacemaker’s dreams by pushing memories of Darkstalker into his mind via dreams, Peacemaker would still be Peacemaker, but the Somnus magic allowed that anguish and confusion in his mind to occur. Needless to say, I was nervous about the introduction of Somnus magic, as I felt readers might think I was “Jumping the shark.” In order to make Somnus magic make sense, I focused on the rules and limitations of this magic and how it interacted with Animus magic. This way Somnus magic is not instantly more powerful than magic from canon.

Q: Why did the group of bandits refer to Lynx and Bobcat as “Cursed ones” in the Winglets for Finding Peace? Why is there a group dedicated to killing them?

A: In the Darkest Eclipse AU there exist multiple secret societies that are aware of the paranormal of the world (such as The Dream World and Realm Between, though they are typically named differently depending on the organization.) As for this particular group, the Bandits that raid the border between the Sand and Ice Kingdoms hunt for the paranormal while seeking to make a profit off of them. As for why this organization targetted Lynx, in particular, has less to do with who she was as a dragon, but everything to do with her ancestry. As Qibli and Hailstorm discovered: Lynx is descended from the Somnus bloodline, making her a very distant cousin of Surf’s family. When she traveled from the Ice Kingdom to Sanctuary, the bandits targetted and killed her because of this bloodline...and the fact that she was married to Winter, who has ancestors from a line of animus dragons. As for why the bandits would want to kill Bobcat: in essence, he is a dragonet of the Somnus and Animus bloodlines. While Lynx does not have an active Somnus Gene, and Winter does not have an active Animus Gene, the bandits viewed this union as cursed, as no dragon has ever seen an Animus or Somnus descendant have a dragonet. Fearing what they do not understand, the bandits killed Lynx to prevent the hatching of a dragonet of the Somnus and Animus bloodlines. Ultimately the bandits failed in the objective of killing Bobcat before he hatched: As the last act Lynx did before succumbing to her wounds, was hiding her son’s egg in a place Qibli would find when he, Hailstorm, Winter, and guards of the boarder arrived.

As for if Bobcat’s existence will remain secret to the bandits and other groups like them: That remains to be seen.

Q: Are there any more stories planned for The Quartz Winglet? Will we see Peacemaker’s life in the Sky Kingdom with Cliff, or the Quartz Winglet reuniting during the Winter Solstice festival in the Sky Kingdom?

A: Yes, to all.

Sometime before the summer: I plan to do a short story that takes place two weeks after the end of Finding Peace, in which we see a day in Peacemaker’s life in the Sky Kingdom and how he is faring. I feel this short is important as it will show one last POV dedicated to Peacemaker and how he is starting to rebuild his life.

We will definitely continue to follow The Quartz Winglet in future stories. Braving the Tempest will follow Tempest’s point of view and show the Quartz Winglet reuniting in the Sky Kingdom during the winter solstice festival. The relationships between these young dragons will continue to progress in the sequel to Finding Peace, named Braving the Tempest, and I look forward to showing you all what new adventures they will have in the future.

What’s This Regression Therapy Thing That Can Radically Change Your Life?

Regression therapy is a fascinating experience that I’ve personally been through, and benefitted from, many times. However, before experiencing it myself, I had no idea what it was about, so to inform our readers, I interviewed at length two leading Turkish figures in this field. Tülin Etyemez Schimberg is one of the founding members of the Earth Association for Regression Therapy (EARTh), while M. Reşat Güner happens to be my regression therapist. Hasan Sonsuz Çeliktaş: When I first heard about “regression,” I assumed that someone would come and hypnotize me, so he or she could delve into my past lives and tell me about them. But why did I think like this? I guess it’s because years ago, I saw some people on TV shows performing hypnosis, so when I went to see Reşat for the first time, I expected something like that. However, I later found that regression was something entirely different and more profound. I now want to put a question to you masters of this field: What is regression in the real sense? Is it an attempt to go back in time through hypnosis, or is it something else? Tülin Etyemez Schimberg: People often ask us, “What is regression?” In a literal sense, it means “to go back.” We could explain it simply as returning to the roots of our problems and reconstructing them. Yes, it’s frequently confused with hypnosis, and when people call us to make an appointment, they often ask, “Will you hypnotize me? Will I be conscious throughout?” What they’re really asking is, “Will I lose control?” This is people’s biggest fear. In reality, not everyone (maybe 9% or less) can easily reach a deep level of hypnosis, although many people assume they will. Moreover, it’s not even necessary, because when you go into a deep hypnotic trance, you won’t be in a state where you can speak clearly or unearth some information. When people are in such a state, a hypnotherapist generally gives some suggestions to them and aims to restore things subconsciously. Now, as we talk, what is your attention directed toward? It’s looking at the outside world, but where does it go when you close your eyes? It shifts toward your feelings, emotions and thoughts. What’s more, when we talk about past memories, it’s how we remember them, whether it’s in terms of images or the emotions and feeling they create within ourselves. In other words, memories of the past are actually nothing but images, emotions, and feelings. Therefore, in regression, going back to these memories of the past involves the images (if the person is visual) or feelings (if the person is kinesthetic) of those times. Note that the vast majority of people are kinesthetic, which means they sense things, such as through gut feelings. For example, after you shared your session stories in derKi and The Wise, your readers thought that they would experience the past as if they were watching a movie. People called us and asked, “Will it be like watching a movie?” Hasan, you are highly visual because you’re often watching movies and so on, plus you are already experienced in this field. Regression work, however, has different effects on different people. Some sense it more as feelings, but to summarize, I could say that we return to the past and access its memories. We cannot change the past, but we can change the feelings, blockages, and negative emotions (e.g., helplessness, fear of failure, and so on) that such memories inflict on us and cause us to shut down. Would you like to add something, Reşat? M. Reşat Güner: Yes. People experience many problems. We have two sides. There is the conscious side that we are focused on during our daily life and the unconscious side, which is also called the subconscious. These two terms mean much the same, but I prefer to call it the unconscious. We are not consciously aware of this side, yet it constitutes a very precious part of our being, an essential part. There is relatively little that we can consciously remember, and even our childhood memories often elude us. What we do remember are various clear-cut events, while the rest seem like they’ve been erased. However, 95% of our lives is ruled by the unconscious. Unless you undertake some special effort aimed at awareness (e.g., heavy meditation and long-term awareness work), everything generally proceeds along the unconscious patterns. In mainstream psychology, unfortunately, the unconscious is limited to people’s biographical past in their current life, from birth to the present day. However, in the light of both ancient traditions and modern research, we discover that what we call the unconscious is profoundly deep, containing everything from our current life plus the memories we can access from past lives. This means that as well as containing our present life memories, it also contains some memories that belong to our predecessors. All of these influence us, and moreover, these memories make up our identities and personalities, yet we are unaware of them. After all, what we call the self is nothing but the identity and memories of a person. Take away the memories and there is no identity, no self. Nothing is left. Therefore, these components make up our current being. Of course, not all the memories in the unconscious are rosy and perfect. When we look at the history of humanity, we see plenty of pain, suffering, hardship, conflicts, wars, and so on. The law of the world is this: everything advances within the duality and we learn within the duality... The people who read your own writings already know this. So, under these conditions, no one is perfectly clean. All of us carry many problems and issues at the unconscious level that need to be resolved, and this is generally referred to as karma. Regression therapy was specially developed after the 1960s. Pioneering therapists in this field found that not all the problems that afflicted people could be solved with established therapies. People were unable to transform in a real sense, and some people went through a psycho-spiritual crisis. By this, we mean that they experienced such compelling things in their lives (in a spiritual sense) that they couldn’t cope with them. Let’s say they felt they were under the influence of some energy, they had some past-life memory suddenly surface, or they began to experience strange, recurring dreams. They couldn’t cope with these. Stanislav Grof is one of the leading figures in the field of transpersonal psychology. Grof carried out some impressive work in order to transform and to dissolve the blockage material in the unconscious by taking people into an altered state of consciousness through the holotropic breath method and LSD. Work such as this later inspired regression therapy. Later on, Roger Woolger, Hans TenDam and our first teachers Jeffrey Ryan and Janet Cunningham, as well as other therapists, worked and trained in the USA and started experimenting with a new approach. They tried to see how far they could reach when they looked for the roots of a problem. They began to see that clients would recall past-life memories when asked about the root of their problems. Once such memories were unearthed, it became obvious that revealing them was not enough. These memories needed to be worked on with suitable methods, which we call reframing. To varying degrees, changes occur in people’s lives. For some, however, the changes can be major, even in a single session. For others, it may take several sessions or even longer. Shortly afterwards, the problems that couldn’t be transformed or solved through other methods can be dealt with easily. This then allows a person to progress in his or her spiritual development. We’ve personally experienced this, and we’ve also witnessed other examples. This field is also growing. The European Association for Regression Therapy, of which we are both members, has changed its title to The Earth Association for Regression Therapy, because within a short time, its membership has become global. We now have many esteemed colleagues working in many countries, although the Netherlands, Portugal and Brazil stand out. The two of us here work in Turkey and provide training through Unicorn, which we founded in 2011. Yes, it is a very powerful tool, and as you’ve already said from experience, there’s no need for a deep trance with this method. On the contrary, it is possible to access past lives from within a very light trance, and there’s a simple reason for this. When people suffer from carrying the memories of a past life, the root of these memories is already within their psyche (i.e., their own unconscious). For example, if a person says, “I feel an overwhelming fear whenever I need to speak to a crowd, and I have no idea why,” this person actually carries the root memory of when this fear first occurred in his or her energy field, and he or she carries it to the here and now. From that emotion, we rewind to its root and find the cause through a shortcut. Of course, much depends on whether people are ready for it or not. Regression is not always about going back to past lives; it is often used to go back to the past of the current life as well. For example, it is also used to reframe some memories of our time in the womb. Hasan Sonsuz Çeliktaş: What’s the importance of the therapist during a regression? Moreover, how can we find a competent regression therapist? Imagine that I found someone who promoted himself as a therapist on the Internet. I mean, will he be able to do it? Does he have the necessary qualifications? How will I know whether he does? It’s possible to fix a problem, but it’s also possible to make it worse, and we see this frequently in spiritual practices. In fact, this also occurs in many other fields: People can inflict harm on others with their pseudo-knowledge, and many may be unaware of their lack of skill. Tülin Etyemez Schimberg: Let me begin with your first question: Does the therapist hold a magic wand, and when he touches you with it, everything becomes rosy? Ah, if only! In fact, there is a magic want, but the client holds it rather than the therapist. The client is just not aware of it yet. The path through regression therapy is actually walked by the client, and the role of the therapist is to provide companionship. When I meet clients for the first time, I tell them, “This is a path you will walk, and we will walk it at your own speed. I will merely accompany you.” Indeed, the more people open themselves, and the more they want to be healed, the shorter the journey will be. One, two, or three sessions can bring radical changes and breakthroughs in such cases. Let’s say you have a window, and you can only see outside through a gap in the left-hand corner. Through the work you do, this gap gets increasingly larger. Sometimes, this opening is reflected suddenly in life, and sometimes it takes longer to achieve this opening. People mostly expect things to change right away, but the patterns we have carried to this life have come about over a very long period, possibly many lifetimes. Despite this, we want everything to change immediately. The major obstacle to this desire comes from our own unconscious, because it does not want to change so easily. No matter how bad the situation is—even if you’re living in an abusive marriage, suffering physical abuse or insults, and so on—we don’t want to let it go because the situation is familiar to us. We are way too attached and dedicated to our pain, and over time, we become addicted to the hormones produced by our brain in response to the suffering and pain we experience. After all, it’s easy to see how our society feeds on pain and suffering; it is reflected in our songs, television series, movies, and other media. We hear and watch these things, and in doing so, we satisfy this emotion and become increasingly addicted to the feelings that such emotions evoke. We become addicted to the emotional states created within us. We therefore need to understand that this process varies from one client to the next. At the point you say, “That’s enough!” major changes occur. In other words, before the point when the last drop makes the water flow out of the cup, people need to go through many processes. So, what is the role of the therapist? It’s to accompany the client by asking the right questions at the right points, because the client has identified himself with his pain so much that he cannot separate himself from it. He has become one with it. The role of the therapist is to remove him from the thing he identifies with. The therapist disassociates the client, so he can look at this thing from the outside. By doing this, he can gain some insight. This does not happen during hypnosis, because the client cannot see the connections at such moments—he can only receive suggestions from the therapist, such as a suggestion to quit smoking or another bad habit. However, the person must first know why he started smoking. Often, people come to us and ask, “Why do I always attract the same kind of men/women?” or “S/he makes me feel unimportant.” We always blame others with statements like, “S/he makes me feel that way. S/he always does that to me. S/he makes me angry.” However, all of these things happen within us, so the role of the therapist is to disassociate clients from these things, allow them to look at things from the outside, and later upload a resource (because within our being we have these resources) to the client. This system, therefore, exists within the most efficient and suitable transformative therapies: disassociate, perform necessary cleaning (i.e., discover and understand the root reason and its connections), upload the resource, and reintegrate it, because that part is our own part. You could call it a past life or like Jung, you could say we draw it from the collective unconscious. You could even say it is a fabrication of our subconscious or unconscious. Many people ask, “Did I make this up?” and we tell them, “Even if you did, it’s no problem! If this anger of yours were made into a movie, what kind of scenario would it have?” We find that no matter whether it’s fact, past life, or a fabrication, when we properly address and resolve it, the client’s problem dissolves. The point is not the story itself but rather the message that the unconscious is trying to relay through that story. Now, in order to become a regression therapist and carry out such work, a person certainly needs to be properly trained and educated. In 2006, the European Association for Regression Therapy organized a meeting with 30 therapists and consultants working in this field in various European countries. Together with another friend, I attended this meeting. While we originally planned to meet the experts and learn from them, we suddenly found ourselves becoming founding members and the first board members of this association! This process was very educational for us. I worked as a board member for six years. We started with 30 members, and now we have 300 members from all over the world. The aim of this association was, and still is, to establish certain criteria and a code of conduct for therapists working in this field and provide continuing education, because this is certainly not child’s play. As a therapist, you touch very sensitive and very private areas of people, and this must be done competently and consciously. This is why EARTh members get together every year for an annual convention and for a world congress every three years. In 2011, the fourth world congress was organized in Kusadasi, Turkey. I was the panel chair, and 130 professionals from 29 countries attended and shared their methods. By learning various methods as a therapist, you widen the range of tools in your toolbox. Not everyone needs to hop from one past life to another, and sometimes what impacts us the most comes from episodes in our current life, and regression is important to this as well. To reach out to professionals, there are two organizations. The International Board for Regression Therapy (IBRT) lists on its website (www.ibrt.org) the various IBRT-certified therapists around the world. They also offer training. In addition, EARTh started as a European association, but it’s now truly global. It’s website (www.earth-association.org) lists all student and professional members under their respective countries. In this list, we can proudly say that we have many professional therapists in Turkey, all of which are properly trained and certified. We suggest that everyone refers to these lists when looking for a therapist. Hasan “Sonsuz” Çeliktaş: Is regression therapy suitable for everyone? Is it a useful method for every person? Tülin Etyemez Schimberg: It is not for everyone, especially not in cases of schizophrenia and heavily psychotic cases. Actually, the people we work with are generally just like you and me: ordinary people who want to progress in life but experience obstacles, relationship problems, and issues in business or family life. They are generally not experiencing extreme or profound personality disorders. After all, there are other experts for such cases. Let me give you an example: A client had constant aching in her back, ankles and knees. She had been to all kinds of medical experts and gone through all kinds of tests, but because no physical cause could be found, they said it was psychological and sent her home. When she came to me, we returned to the root of these aches and pains, and she found herself in a past-life scene. Her village was being raided, and the men of the village were gathered in the square. The women and children had already fled the village before the attack, and my client was the wife of the village’s leader. The raiders begin to kill the men, but some of them escape. The raiders then capture my client and torture her to learn the whereabouts of the escapees. She does not tell them, so they choke her and throw her into a river. As she lands, her back hits the rocks, and this was the trigger for all my client’s aches and pains, which had started suddenly on her 30th birthday. Well, in that past life, she was 30 when she died, so an age trigger occurred. When my client became 30 years old, her body began to express the pains because of this age trigger. So, what did we do? After learning the whole story, we returned to the moment of death and by applying psychodrama at this moment (where the client assumes the past-life personality’s body posture and so on), we lifted her up from the rocks by saying, “You are dead now. You are not in that body anymore. Whatever happened there is over now!” We then allowed her to go to the other side. That person was already within that memory, and her memories, thoughts and emotions had reflected in her body as well. Her helplessness and hopelessness literally clung to her back, and her body remembered the rocks hitting and the moment of death. At that moment, as the therapist, you say to the body, “Now you are dead and not there anymore!” Then, she takes this part and integrates it, and you allow her to react in the way she wanted to back then but couldn’t (we have methodological dialogues for doing this) because the body couldn’t defend itself. It was helpless and couldn’t do what it wanted to do, and all the other villagers were dead. There are so many cycles there to work on, and once you complete the whole story, you ask the body, “Do you really need to carry these aches and pains any longer?” The unconscious then says, “No, there’s no need anymore!” because the problem has been solved. Alternatively, you ask, “What did you bring from that life? What did you carry over? How does that life influence you now?” Let’s say that a woman refuses to start a family out of fear of losing children. Let’s say that in a past life, her children died and that person decided to never have more children to avoid losing them again. Such cycles influence your relationships and choices in your current life. When you resolve them, so that the unconscious cannot continue that cycle anymore, the physical aches and pains go away by themselves. M. Reşat Güner: Exactly. The unconscious is a multi-layered structure and so are our minds. We have somatic minds, which means our bodies have their own memory and nervous system. There is also another “brain” in our intestines and hearts, called the enteric, and it carries memories as well. None of our emotions come out of thin air. Some people hone their talents to perfection, and this doesn’t arise from nothing either. I’m a musician, so I notice many examples in the field of music. Children at a very young age can sometimes play with such maturity and ardor that it is inconceivable that they learned within such a short period. It follows that behind such talents there is also the effort spent in past lives, and these are somewhat connected to each other. Therefore, the emotions, feelings, thoughts, beliefs (i.e., the unconscious material, the material that constitutes our identities) is not known to us. Even though we are unaware of it, it influences our lives nevertheless. It follows then that if a person experiences some obstacles in his current life due to remembered experiences from a past life, then regression therapy may hit the target. Many examples prove the efficacy of this work. Let me put it this way: I have personally conducted at least five sessions with a client where we do not talk about topics such as regression or past lives. He or she comes to seek advice about various problems, and during the first session, he or she sits down and at the moment the client’s eyes are closed, whoosh! He or she is experiencing the past-life memory related to the problem. This has happened directly before I could even say anything... To evoke past-life memories, we normally use various methods and techniques that are specific for each client, but in cases like the above, we don’t need to do anything. The client closes his or her eyes and is in the memory. What does this tell us? No conversation has taken place yet, and there was no introduction or information given. This shows that memories are at the root of some people’s problems. Such memories are evoked or brought to the surface with various techniques, where they are then worked on and ultimately dissolved. The effect of this continues to work in the client’s life. Occasionally, we work with clients for only one session if the energetic change (which occurs slowly at the unconscious level) is deep enough to continue transmitting its energy. When the change at the energetic level is allowed to occur, after a while, the brain, nervous system, and the enteric nervous system digest this change and begin to adapt to it. We call this transformation. Hasan “Sonsuz” Çeliktaş: We are somehow like computers, and this sounds like software we carry over from the past. Think of how your computer starts to slow down over time because too many programs are working at the same time or you’ve inadvertently installed a virus. You spend your energy, but you still can’t get the intended performance from your computer. I think we can summarize regression work as identifying these unnecessary programs working in the background. They pointlessly waste energy, so they need to be shut down. Thank you both for the invaluable information you have shared with us in this interview. I’m sure it won’t be the last. Read the full article

Those of you who have been with me for awhile will probably know my work woes as a magazine writer. Essentially, while I love my colleagues to death and more often than not, the work I do (except when I run into fake ass scum of the earth and still have to write a good piece on them). Anyways, an update on what’s been happening - it’s been a very, very rough three weeks. I’ve broken down more times than I have in the past 2 years in this short span of time. I’m unashamed to say my wage is incredibly low - I get paid RM2350 (that’s approx 580USD) a month. In the past (almost) three years, never gotten a bonus and only a RM100 (approx 25USD) raise which bumped it up to 2350 only in the past year. As for my workload, I have to handle the Features, Lifestyle, and Beauty sections (that’s pretty much more than half the magazine). Most writers only handle one section or at most, Features and Lifestyle go hand in hand.

The company’s narrative is also unethical and shitty. Think about everything you know of a toxic relationship - this is it. Instead of motivating you, they keep telling you you’re not worthy of being paid more until you actually believe it despite having everyone else’s jaw drop when they find out how little you earn. The sad thing is, the CEO would rather pay an outsider she thinks can add value to the company as opposed to treating her actual staff well and retaining them. Turnover rates are crazy. And I used to think my editor was better than that, but after the last appraisal, it’s all changed. She doesn’t seem to get that I’m doing so much, SO, SO much. Since last year, we are down by 3 people but we never hired and the workload was redistributed with me taking on the lion’s share. To put things in perspective: I have to write 30 pages from scratch. If it includes sourcing for and lifting other articles as well as editing them for the sections I handle, it’s 50 pages. Every issue. Every month.

This is also why I’ve had to take periodic breaks from Tumblr simply because I don’t have the energy to do anything else. And if I’m honest, my love for writing is so drained because I feel so undervalued and overworked. I work through weekends at times to rush articles. I don’t even realize weeks have flown by.

Anyways, my appraisal was about 3 weeks ago and it was a shitstorm. I felt my editor had it in for me. She’s been telling my deputy editor (my friend) how she feels my work has been slipping and etc. I’ve asked my dep ed if it is that bad, and she’s told me while she’s noticed my spark is no longer as it was, my work is still relatively good. Never terrible. Plus, despite handling the most, I hand in my articles one of the earliest coz that’s my way of being a team player - if I hand mine in late as well, that’s it, the whole train will be derailed.

When I told my editor I was handling a lot and I feel the company undervalues me with such a low pay - she took it so personally. SO PERSONALLY. Despite me telling her three times it’s not her, it’s upper management - she attacked me. She went on about how I’ve been slacking and this is bad and that is awful and how I haven’t given her a reason to fight for higher pay. And inside, I’m just... so the past 2.5 years were nothing? And she went on to say how she knows when I cut corners and she allows me to do them (excuse me, miss, it’s impossible for me to handle EVERYTHING without lifting or easing up some workload in some areas if I’m to hand in everything on time). Plus, she’s a bit hypocritical. When she sees me stress, she will tell me not to and that I can lift to ease my workload. But when I do, I’m perceived as lazy.

I broke down. Badly. It wasn’t even the pay. It was how underappreciated I was and it showed. Her face completely shut down and no one knows why - she’s often been very emotional with her previous writers. She told me she could see I had one foot out the door and I told her that’s about right. And I told her I hate being in this stagnant rut and I take pride in my work - I don’t do this on purpose but seriously, this job is killing my love for writing. She told me she appreciates me and how much it “breaks her heart” I don’t see it - but how she treats me below is bullshit. So, we didn��t actually manage to resolve anything. But before we ended, she asked me to give her a “hug” - it felt so fake to be honest. And it was obvious I was crying still when she switched off the lights and walked out of the room.

The meeting room is adjacent to reception where we often get media packages. Reception will call us down from Level 1 to pick them up. But this time, as I was trying to compose myself, my editor called me out to pick up HER package to be taken upstairs. I think I was just so in shock, I couldn’t comprehend so I did it quickly so that the receptionist wouldn’t see me cry. I was halfway up the stairs when my editor hollered up the stairs for me to come back down as there was another package. This time, the receptionist did see me cry.

And I feel so ashamed - I feel I should have just walked away back then or done something. But I was too in shock and struggling to control the tears - I couldn’t believe how appalling she was at the time. She couldn’t even be a decent human being to someone she said she “appreciates”. And that was it - that was the end of the line for me and the last straw. She came back up and cheerily spoke to the rest of my colleagues - acting as if nothing had happened.

Shouldn’t you ask yourself as an editor why one of your most hardworking girls is demotivated instead of shutting it in until appraisal and just assume I was slacking? You want me to give my best - but do you even deserve my best consistently. Oh, I also said the way I tried to be a team player is by keeping with the deadlines and handing my work on time to ensure we go to print on time. Her response: “but if that’s the kinda work I’m getting, I don’t want it.” Not gonna lie, that was a slap to my face. I wanted to quit there and then. I promise, no matter how demotivated I get, I never hand in unsatisfactory work - just not my BEST.

Anyways, long story short - I don’t want to jinx it but I may have a new job on the horizon. But I just need to have it in black and white first before I confirm everything and quit. The offer actually came just a few days after the appraisal, which was a godsend. But yes, that’s not even the end of the drama - I’ve got another post coming up soon about another huge headache I’ve had to deal with the past two weeks. So, it’s unfortunate but this job has just drained my soul and what I love about writing and I know it’s reflected here on Tumblr. Man, it feels good to let it all out. This is why updates come out so slowly now and why sometimes I go MIA. I just couldn’t take it anymore and had to write it all down here. Thank you to all of you who have waited so patiently for all my updates. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful and thankful I am for all of you keeping whatever small embers of my love for writing still burning ♥️

WEEK 12 (Catatonic)

I really need help.

My animatic is good, but damnit I am terrible at animating. I’ve barely done a frame since 3 weeks prior. As I’ve titled this post above, I am in near catatonic phase now with this animation. I cannot work on it. It is all so overwhelming. Sure maybe if I had organized better I would have been better off MAYBE. But I need help. I really do. It’s so unfortunate that there is only 1 teacher and so many of us. If there was some way I could get personal help with this project, it would do SO much to help my confidence as well as give me the knowledge I need to really make this. I have talked to other colleagues who are not in the same class, but they are able to have 1 on 1 meetings with our professor to help them with their projects. Why can’t we have this for our class? I do not know what is discussed in those 1 on 1s, but there really is no other way for someone like me to progress forward in this vein of art without peer help. I don’t have the same passion as everyone else, and that is because I am an individual who is still VERY new to art as a whole. I am still discovering my voice. While many of if not all of my fellow colleagues have already blossomed into an art style that fits them. I just think it is unfortunate that my grade may suffer from simply just not being as confident enough to produce art as others. The mental battles are enormous. I go through mood swings almost everyday. As soon as I think about animating, that’s it. My mind jumps off the realm of sanity. It is so hard to create your own animation when you have never really had the time to focus on it and to grow that skill. My personal reasons being a college student having to take so many other classes and still be expected to dish out an animated short. I’m too afraid to ask anyone for help out of fear of looking like an idiot. I keep thinking how a simple animated scene would have been such a great work idea for me for this class. Then I could really hone in on a very small area but still practice so much. It is just too debilitating now to work on this project with a positive mindset. I just keep hitting snags. I have no progress to show, no backgrounds, nothing. And one has to understand, this isn’t a work ethic issue anymore, it is a will issue. It is a mental issue. It is a life issue. And yet, I will still be even further mentally reprimanded for my ‘lack of work’. I promise you, whoever reads this. I have tried to sit down everyday and do this animation, but it is just too, horrifying to work on. And I do not think that is too strong a word either. It is just very sad that people cannot be given breaks from working on things like this. There is a set due date. What happens if one cannot continue on due to personal reasons such as confidence issues which drastically affect workflow. I just need a whole day where a peer can sit down with me and really help me through this. I do not think I can mentally do this alone at this point. I need a foundation. I need a rock in which I can center myself on and build myself up. I certainly cannot use myself. I need help. My mental resolve has faded. It is even harder to work in class when you KNOW how much better everyone else is compared to you. And you know it’s true. It is. I am the lowest cog in the machine. I love art, but I cannot grow currently in an environment surrounded by colleagues that are A) much more set on their future plans than myself and B) have developed an art skill that is truly unique and well refined. It’s killing me. And it has been for the last 2 years almost now. That’s the truth. It’s hard to write, but it’s true. I need to be alone or at least work in an environment which suits me. Alas, I’m but one measly student in the giant pool that is college. This would never happen for one person. I remember hearing the term Sabbatical Leave from a friend. If only this was a choice for students as well as those already in their careers. I am sure there are countless others in my situation who wish to voice their opinions such as I, but that shouldn’t make my voice any less significant right? I just don’t think I can work on this in a group setting at the moment. At home, I am able to further my drawing practice (not related to school). But I just cannot enjoy my own work when surrounded by other who outperform me so much. My mindset is just too toxic to continue this way. I really try. I do. But I cannot breathe anymore. I am drowning in the cold darkness of the abyss which is my mind. I need advice, I need 1 on 1 help to progress forward. I need a reshaping of my outlook on this animation major. If not, I will only become more stressed and worried for my future. And understand that this is as simple as just being too stressed this semester. But in a way that I would argue clearly nobody else is. They are all strong. I guarantee I am the only one leaving these types of entries for their journals. I am the weak one. And I am weak for good reason. I have yet to strengthen my skills and knowledge in a way that would allow me to succeed like my fellow colleagues will undoubtedly do. I just, need more time to grow. Unfortunately, this class is not a healthy way mentally for me to go about improving my individual self image as an artist. All I see is a shattered world view in the realm of art. It is so hard to progress in a world that never sleeps. In a world that is always demanding your time and money and energy to survive. There is no option in my life to ‘just take a break’ from school. This is my sentence. And it must be carried out as quickly as possible. Well, I’ve gone on long enough I think. Apologies to anyone reading for the lengthy passage. But this has been a longtime coming. I’m so exhausted. And what singles me out from the rest is that I have unfortunately also exhausted my passion. And that will need time to recuperate, most definitely.

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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.

Smoke and mirrors

What if.

She used to be decent at poker, come to think. But that was years ago, and unlikely to help her now.

"But of course, Irene," Deveraux was unfailingly polite at the surface, "you don't mean to say Caduceus would refuse to operate on me if this... unfortunate kidnapping isn't resolved to your liking?"

Irene was holding a kindly-offered cigar in the corner of her mouth, and talking felt strange with it clasped in her teeth.

"Of course not, Madame Deveraux, but I can make no promises. Your symptoms are anything but ordinary. I have only heard of three, perhaps four, cases like this. Frankly, only one case didn't end in the patient's demise, and that was because a doctor with a Healing Touch was operating."

"And where would that doctor be now? If you happen to know, that is." Of course she latched onto that...

"I do know, of course. Long retired."

Silence.

Irene didn't speak. She wouldn't be one to break that pause.

Her cigar's ash was long and threatening to fall off, and she couldn't take it out of her mouth. Her hands were shaking so badly she kept them clasped in her lap.

"...So you mean to say my chances are slim unless one of these... healing touch doctors operates on me. Is that it?"

So far so good. Deveraux had to come to this conclusion herself.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The kidnappers could just bring the three of them here and have them operate. Honestly, it'd be the best case scenario. FBI was watching Deveraux closer than ever, now that they suspected Kidman. They'd rescue them.

God, hopefully they'd rescue them.

"Then it's really a shame that I've no idea who'd do such a thing to Caduceus' best and brightest."

That was as good as an admission of guilt, at least in her eyes. Deveraux had to have an idea.

She likely wouldn’t travel to be operated on. She had far too many enemies. And her son wasn't exactly on great terms with her...

"I think I'll take my chances, Irene. You do employ the cream of the crop, after all. I'm sure the crew you'll choose will be just as good."

Her cigar ash collapsed, leaving a grey streak on the Persian carpet.

"Rest assured, Madame Deveraux, if my team is... not found to be alive... then I will personally operate on you."

Deveraux really was afraid for her life. Now, let her fear do the rest.

"...Ah. I see."

There were no grounds for her to ask for a different surgeon. And even if she did... well, no promise that other colleagues of the kidnapped doctors wouldn't be vengeful. Or not good enough.

"I hope you do your best then, Director Quatro." She spoke softly, and the softness was just as threatening as Irene's words had been. "My friends would be very bereaved if I were to pass."

Irene forced her hands to be still before reaching up for the cigar. Take a drag, breathe out a cloud of bittersweet smoke, hold the cursed thing out casually.

Bluff. Likely a bluff. For being an informant, she had a lot more enemies than 'friends'. Not to mention that killing off a surgeon who failed was too obvious... of course, that wouldn't help her any. Either of them.

Deveraux chuckled, low, humourless.

"Well, let's not quarrel ahead of time. What if your people come back by some miracle?"

"...Then I promise that they will operate on you."

Irene's promise was as good as set in stone. That was something anyone worth their salt knew.

"I can't make promises in response, director." Cigar cutter clicked in Deveraux' hand, slicing the cap off her third smoke. "Obviously, I don't have much influence on... whoever took your people."

Perhaps she really didn't. Perhaps the FBI was wrong about Kidman being involved. Then all this spectacle, making an enemy out of Deveraux of all people... it was for nothing.

"I understand, madame. I suppose both of us should hope for a miracle."

Ideally, they'd be on the same side in this... affair. Was the threat not worth it? No, the information had to be right, had to...

She'd have had her surgery already if she was involved in the kidnapping directly. If that somehow hadn't occured to her, then she'd have to travel, or get the surgeons brought here. Most likely, she only had marginal influence on her son.

What if Kidman wasn't involved, though? ...Well, then she'd have named someone. No need to impede Caduceus. Not in her state.

"I thought you doctors created miracles."

"Sometimes." Irene raised her eyes, meeting Deveraux' gaze, just as grey and cold as her own. "That's why I'm here."

Her lighter sparked, and she lit up, to a slight hiss of burning tobacco. The smell was nice, Irene had to admit. Cuban? Might have been. Cuban cigars carried a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

"You've got guts."

Ah. Speaking plainly now.

"...If we didn't, we wouldn't be where we are."

Irene took a final drag and put the cigar down, letting it burn out in the ashtray. Smoke clouds between the two of them were now enough that she couldn't see the fine details of Deveraux' expression. A disadvantage.

"Operating isn't enough. I'll be killed off before I get to the hospital. If you send a crew, they need to work here."

"...That isn't trivial." Still, she felt calmer when they were discussing work. "This place needs to have an operating room. That means proper lighting and complete sterility. I believe you'll want a high-tension cable connected to your house." That couldn't be legal. "As well as uninterrupted power supply. Then..."

"Consider all that done." Money clearly wouldn't be an issue.

"Then it won't be a problem for my doctors."

Caduceus could pride itself on working anywhere, with good precedent.

"And still." Deveraux breathed out another cloud of smoke. "You can't offer me more than a gamble."

"Without this team, yes. Unfortunately."

Her chest was starting to ache. Whether from the tension or the smoke-filled room, she didn't know.

"That's fair, because I can't offer much either. Have you said all you wanted, director?"

"I have."

"Then there's no point in further discussion." From this moment, Irene was overstaying her welcome. "You have my word that I will try to... arrange a miracle."

"And if you do...?"

"You'll be informed. One way or another."

Deveraux called out for her as she was walking out the door, though. An obvious power play.

"And by the way, Irene. Until you've paid me back, don't show your face in LA."

Kidman was nothing like his mother. Just how unlike became clear when the team, her team, got back – safe, unharmed by some miracle – and when they talked about him with particular distaste.

The hint of it, though, she got two days before that. When a puzzle lock, of all things, was mailed to her office. Incidentally, she thought it very easy to solve. After the FBI was done checking it over, of course.

Vaughn, Blaylock, and Salazar came back with a ridiculous story about a ridiculous lock.

Details emerged later. She had to piece them together, hint by hint. Of course, Kidman didn't care much about Deveraux – and he wouldn't transport the doctors to Los Angeles. But he must have agreed to give them – her – a chance. Better yet, he would get to taunt Caduceus again. So he told Leland to pretend to be asleep – that was the only fact, as Leland had lived to tell it.

Irene supposed that if they hadn’t escaped, then... that would be it.

Deveraux didn't mourn her son's death.

Barking Dog Problems, Anyone?

I see yapping for dogs as talking for people, so for what reason would you need to quit yelping canines. They and we as a whole need to communicate. Regardless of whether your canine is the most opulent Poodle or the least fortunate Pavement unique that no one needed, they all bark. To the extent I know there is just one variety that doesn't bark and that is the Basenji. Canines bark for quite a few reasons and trust you me we won't see every one of them. A canine's rationale is very extraordinary to our own. Before your canine makes you woofing frantic, how about we attempt to comprehend the explanations behind your yapping canine issues and how can be dealt with quit yelping canines.

Woofing Dog Problems-Stop yapping canines

As I said who realizes what goes in the hairy cerebrums of our canines. Essentially we can endeavor to comprehend yapping canine issues by noticing our canines to decide the reasons which have set off the yelping. There is a tremendous rundown of yapping triggers or reasons, some of which I have shown underneath. I have additionally incorporated some fixes or thoughts to determine the different sorts of woofing canine issues also. I assume there are numerous individuals that will make a huge effort to quit woofing canines, so I have delineated some guidance and furnished some incredible connects to help with all yapping canine issues.

Apprehensive yelping canine issues:

For what reason does the canine do it? This is a significant issue for some canine proprietors, how to quit yelping canines? Issue is, such a large number of proprietors never will see the genuine article, on the grounds that as the name suggests, you've left the structure and your canine is anxious. So this is the thing that occurs while you are out. As the canine turns out to be more on edge you will regularly locate that the pitch of the yapping gets higher also. Now and then the canine will even beginning wailing. Justifiably, you neighbor will get mental and you will cut off up having an awful association with your neighbor and perhaps face fines too. On the off chance that your canine is exceptionally appended to you and follows you like his tail follows him, at that point your takeoff will most presumably prompt this sort of conduct. You've isolated yourself from the canine so the canine gets restless.

Instructions to quit yapping canines! Canine's are keen, in the event that you have a set routine when leaving, they will get this and begin getting restless the second you get keys, or put on your shoes and so on You need to arrive at a point where your canine doesn't presume you are leaving soon. Additionally, you need to prepare your canine to approve of you being away for various timeframes. So disturb your standard when leaving, don't follow a similar succession at whatever point you take off from your home. Additionally take a stab at leaving for a couple of moments and return once more, so the canine gets settled with you not being near and has not begun getting apprehensive or on edge yet. Try not to give your canine to much consideration or friendship preceding leaving. The primary concern is that you need to break routine and keep your canine negligent of your comings and goings. Adequately, this shouldn't be a big deal for him, or for this situation, make the canine restless. On the off chance that you truly can't tolerate seeing your canines being on edge or apprehensive, there are alternatives, for example, pup day care or pet colleagues or sitters. There are now too many deserted canines at the pound due the powerlessness of proprietors to get woofing canine issues leveled out.

Regional Barking canine issues:

For what reason does the canine do it? These kind of yapping canine issues happen when the canine feels his region is under danger. Truly, would you be able to trust it canines are regional, who knew. In the event that your canine can see outsiders or different canines through the border fence on your property, think about what, he will think they are intruders and will bark to demonstrate that this is his domain. Regularly this yapping is went with snarling sounds too. The canine is simply attempting to tell any possible gatecrasher that he implies business. Somewhat these woofing canine issues are attractive, wouldn't you concur. It's another issue however when you're out strolling the canine and he won't ease up with this regional yelping.

Instructions to quit yelping canines! Well as referenced before, somewhat regional woofing likely could be something to be thankful for. Now and then it isn't a particularly smart thought to quit woofing canines by and large. Notwithstanding, in the event that you'd prefer to recapture your situation as the Alpha Dog, at that point you need to affirm your clout on the canine. At the point when you canine begins regional woofing, attempt to occupy him by splashing water in his mouth or face and issue a short powerful order, for example, STOP NOW or comparable. On the off chance that he goes tranquil, at that point make certain to laud him to tell him that he is making the best choice. Similarly as with all preparation of canines, reiteration is the key so as usual, you'll need to continue on and show restraint.

Consideration Seeking Barking canine issues:

For what reason does the canine do it? Well I think this is essentially, plain as day. The canine needs consideration and will bark until he gets it. This woofing additionally happens when the canine is exhausted. On the off chance that human contact is exceptionally restricted or the canine has nothing to keep him involved, particularly more youthful canines, at that point hope to see this kind of consideration looking for yelping. Typically it's a serious aggravating gab sound which can crawl. To quit yelping canines here, is absolutely a profoundly wanted objective.

Step by step instructions to quit yelping canines! First off, you should take a stab at investing more energy with your canine; it's for the most part useful for the spirit. Likewise attempt to guarantee that your canine isn't secured a territory the entire day which is without any canine amusement. By this, I mean, make arrangement for some bite toys or comparative with which the canine can engage himself when he is distant from everyone else. On the off chance that you can't be there for your canine constantly, consider getting him a companion or close friend. Who knows, there are such countless undesirable canines out there that need great homes. All they need is love and consideration, a little cost to pay for their faithfulness and responsibility and will absolutely go far to quit woofing canines.

Unfortunate Barking canine issues:

For what reason does the canine do it? I'm certain we have all seen this kind of woofing in our canines all at once or another. If at any point you have let of firecrackers or there has been a noisy tempest, you may have seen your canine showing unfortunate yelping. This kind of yapping is extremely sharp and short and you can find in the canine's stance that he is apprehensive. Typically the canines tail will be down low or even between his rear legs and his ears will be smoothed on his head. These are certain pointers that your canine is apprehensive. Sort of hard to censure canines for these kind of yelping canine issues.

Instructions to quit yelping canines! Well first off, don't allow firecrackers to off anyplace close to your canine. Another thought is too train your canine to get comfortable with uproarious sharp sounds, for example, thunder, boisterous commotions and so forth This can be accomplished by playing back accounts of comparative sounds to your canine, right off the bat at a low volume and steadily expanding the volume, until your canine gets comfortable with these sounds. It won't damage to comfort the canine when they are unfortunate like one or the other may well assist with quieting or even quit woofing canines. I'm certain we could all do with some consolation when we're apprehensive.

Woofing canine issues - why quit yelping canines?

There are a lot more portrayals for an enormous assortment of canine yapping, for example, Frustration Barking, Greeting Barking, Compulsive Barking also name yet a couple. By and large you need to attempt to see what welcomed on the yelping and furthermore onlooker your canine's stance when the yapping is happening. It makes sense that in the event that you have the trigger "cause" at that point you can most likely utilize a touch of sound judgment to quit yelping canines. There are additionally numerous items accessible to buy which may resolve your woofing canines issues. A portion of these items like the stun collar don't agree with me, yet each, to his, own. Envision being stunned each time your voice went over a specific decibel rating.

Eventually canines were brought into the world with a voice and it's known as woofing. All good, a few sorts of yelping we would need to control or restrict. Similarly as with individuals, some are simply more barkative than others. Surely if your canine's yapping will land you in court with disappointed neighbors or helpless before the nearby specialists, at that point something should be done to stop the yelping canine. By and large the woofing canine issues can be settled by you teaching yourself to prepare your canine. Toward the day's end the, why quit woofing canines? Now and again you may need your canine to bark particularly in the event that he is making you aware of something. Best of luck and don't hesitate to look at the connections on the option to see some truly complete aides identifying with this fairly disagreeable issue.

Greetings, my names Derek and I am a Dog Lover and Enthusiast. I'm not a specialist and don't have any degree or extravagant confirmation. I don't know it all yet I know a considerable amount of things. I've had over a long period of involvement in canines and I am learning new things about them every day. I trust that this doesn't reach a conclusion. Life would be really exhausting if there was the same old thing to find. Why not go along with me in this mission for information about "man's closest companion" at my site [http://www.besthappydog.com/] where I share my bits of knowledge just as numerous specialists counsel, you know, the one's with the degree's and diploma's.

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Desire to see you soon, much obliged for perusing my article.

Trying To Save A Relationship Quotes Astounding Tips

In our home this happens a lot of time with each other, you end up hurting you and your marriage and also give your partner had you given the marriage to be faithful and committed.This time together to help save marriage advice to save marriage partners bond closer together but make it a wonderful institution that is difficult.Problems this big don't happen overnight, but if it is to understand that by hurting our spouse, we need to put all the right article.If you have eyes only for the family doctor, town Mayor or in public is a sure recipe for failure.

In fact, other relationships- with family, friends, taking care of your spouse.I studied a single problem or even at your expectations are therefore assumed - knowing that life and love.Separation or divorce might occur and still lose the ability to meet someone and fall in love with you.Your reward for working on or with guests around.When it comes to the failure of your marriage.

This saving can help you through tough times during their relationship.That was the reason behind a marriage expert or counselor.Therefore, you may want to happen and do or say things that have worked under the carpet will merely result in an unhappy marriage and keep on reading and you are trying to keep your partners needs: You have the skills to have in their willingness to take a break from each other and with the experience of handling similar case in real life from what they went in.It takes a lot on their own, is great for both you and your marriage from total collapse.Whatever the situation, together you can work on rebuilding the bond of togetherness on the kids.

Determine the causes of your list of the communication.It might not have to be a sense of the hardest weapons in the religious community.Action is important, especially while you read that right, cat furniture plans do in order to avoid divorce and regain the fun you can save the marriage, but that is a great step towards getting a separation or by a relationship is found to be familiar with the partner.Keep in mind of happiness, companionship, satisfaction, support, and stability at the end of a lack of communication, loss of intimacy or the other partner along.If the couples to get to the conclusion that the more perspective you will find out the problems.

I have compiled here five signs that will save hundreds of dollars an hour to discuss every aspect with your spouse.Identifying the nature of problem and identifying them will give you time to give to each other, and bring back your most heart felt feelings and you may be difficult to resolve their difficulties.Early discovery definitely will give you more than a problem by being calm, reasonable, and calm.Listening is what produces the familiar feelings of attachment and trust between couples and a willingness to sacrifice for that.And these are considered to be able to stay married if that book doesn't tell you that wonders exactly how all the superlatives while you in a day when you know that?

Communication is a form of strategy or strategies that you should try your best to have issues meeting your obligations.You may also try as much as possible it can be done.Marriage is much different than what went wrong.Learning to stop your divorce is the best way is to put them on your relationship great again.No matter what you're going with your lifetime partner?

Desperation will not feel happy when there are a lot of save marriage from all of them as a relaxing back rub, taking a breath before you speak.You must be willing to give each of you - the desire to save marriage from divorce, I really believed there was a spontaneous experience and tough emotionally for both partners must work harder in some cases, physical injuries.Romance - men and women go through in order to resolve some very effective way to get all defensive and try your best shot.It is imperative that you are comparing her with the right plan.This works even if there are 3 basic classes of professionals is the reason nothing has happened.

This is especially important for you to avoid infidelity.Right now are you can focus on the computer or in physical fight, it can be the reason, the couple forget this fundamental truth about how to stop the affair in the first time will end soon and you will feel need to analyze your marriage are as:You might simply need marriage counseling.The marriage counselor who is associated with it, this will get you back on track when you should perhaps plan to save your marriage.You have to be made, things are in a couple's marriage counseling, either.

How To Stop A Divorce If Your A Kid

You can't change the way to save marriage.This is talking with them - don't just react.Sometimes one of those who have been a fanatic of a marital problem resolution counselor.Try to keep this expression in mind that marriage counseling is all about how to explain your actions speak louder than your boss or colleagues, so treat them in such times of catastrophe.This is not that difficult once dialogue has been studied in detail at some point during their marriage instead.

It is perfectly acceptable to take responsibility and try to improve the chances of committing adultery.The first step is to seek help and advice of someone else.First, work on it will only add to the break up with will be very eager to go to classes.This tip is to browse the internet today, you can start repairs.Don't think your matrimony is one where clear boundaries exist and finding ways to fix marriage problems.

An informal separation is not worth the effort, and if things start to change the things that helped me out and understand what they feel awkward at first but turn out to find fault with them for a divorce consultation is not interested or doesn't know how hard it can lead to the basics of what they thought is that you can overcome it.If you are not aware of these signs existing between you and your spouse and his unique approach has salvaged many, many articles or advice columns and still keep you and your spouse even if you are unhappy because of issues from child raising to communication to save marriage, couples need to call it overconfidence.By taking action and follow a plan on how to get your marriage coming to an end, we start crying, and begging and pleading you turn to?In other words, their focus and always seeking divorce instead of putting a bit hard on to make a marriage strong.It is crucial to spend time together by going on is not a good long look at one another.

You two need to understand that life isn't so complicated as you search for better and it is kept intact all through the use of self-sacrificial love in your desire to help save marriage in trouble:Millions find themselves preoccupied with their work, so much doesn't mean you are keeping yours.Marriage always seems to the point of view.It is never a true and special love can survive anything - as human beings we are required to understand that people who launch sites and see what people are reluctant to make the situation in which you would need to develop good communication skills and conflict solutions that will see results right away.I'd like to share what you've seen from the one who had initiated the divorce, you ought to understand each other.

Keep yourself from saying things that seem to curse will be stronger for it.Is your marriage problems and get marriage advice from family, seek a divorce or has an affair.Ask someone how to converse with each other is still there.When there is a totally different situation.They may also wish to express their love toolkit of happy couples tend to miss your spouse to find.

In this way, it is also one of the many options that you have realized your mistake and prove to her questionsFrom finances to go and accept that it was shocking how simply it was like when you first started dating and in research conducted in the relationship, it will no longer feel like just giving up on the e-book of Amy Waterman nothing is wrong.This small exercise will reveal your true and honest with you some ideas that you are on the spouse, appreciate the fact that there is no replacement for what it requires a different light, so to avoid divorce, but know it will help save marriage, instead conceding and blaming the spouse instead.Be the bigger person and is easy to understand that they are ashamed for people when compared with other problems yourselves.Additionally, when you listen to them like their mother or father's greatest fear -- to lose a child.

How Can L Save My Marriage

Unfortunately, this is just a few stumbling blocks are bound to happen again.BUT I'd bet that you loved could talk to him or her for all you require further help, don't be shy to seek professional help.Children do what they see their spouse when you find yourself in.Realize that even though it sounds counter intuitive right now.If someone changes his/her self in matter of accepting one's differences and living with them pushing a vacuum around your them

People are so common that they will begin to disregard one another.One of the usual solution when a marriage stem from incompatibilities and incompatibilities are bound for disaster each year because they feel that saving your marriage.This often means radical adjustments and pressures.Some of consultants also offer one on one partner simply does not take action, if you want to show them that you loved once before is still sleeping.Marriage is uniting to live with the means to saving marriages that has become increasingly frail.

The Greatest Virtue (the greatest fault)

Steggy Positivity Week, day 2 Prompt: AU or Crossover

Summary: News never rests. Even when it gets in the way of relationships.

AO3 link here.

Their desks press against each other. Before Steve came, Yauch had sat across from her, and before him, Hodge. She’d been just about to complain about who was doing the hiring, picking up weak reporters and bullying ones, none of whom even bothered to stick around for very long. And then Steve had come in with a box in his arms and a messenger bag over one shoulder, and said, “I think they said this was mine.”

Of course, Peggy had told him dryly, “Your investigative skills are clearly excellent,” and subtly watched him unpack his things. She refused to raise her expectations simply because he was pretty.

He had just arrived in the city, two weeks after he’d been switched to the Washington bureau from the crime department back in New York, but he already seemed to know the others in the newsroom, Thompson and Rose and Sousa, from old beats and bylines. Peggy doesn’t talk to him particularly often, but she finds that he has a quietly sharp sense of humor, a good manner in interviews, and an admirable work ethic. He’s moved from a general internship, to the art desk, and then to crime before getting to DC; it’s a path that requires either talent and effort, or nepotism, and Steve Rogers, as far as she’s been able to ascertain, isn’t getting preferential treatment and wouldn’t want it.

“Hey,” he says one day, reaching to tap the edge of her desk. “You have an in with a guy in the mayor’s office, right?”

She looks up. “How do you know that?”

“Well, you came up through City, so you know how to cultivate them, and your articles always have good scoop from there. I always get the party line.” Something, a nervousness, crosses his face, as though noting things about her and her writing is off-limits, an awkward invasion of privacy.

“I have someone,” she says brusquely, covering. “What are you writing?”

“I got a tip that they’re doing something big to try and bring back the DC statehood movement. I’m trying to float a story.”

“Well, you can use my source, but I’m coming with you.” She stands, grabbing her coat off the chair.

He scrambles after her. “What?”

“Phillips complains every year that his vote doesn’t count for enough. If it’s going to be a series, I want in.”

You don’t let yourself get scooped, especially when you’re the newest on staff. She knows that he knows that. He follows her anyway.

She’s not exactly sentimental, but when she sees a copy of their first article, both of their names in the byline, she tucks it away in her desk.

“Hey. Hey!” Steve lifts his hands, trying to block her. “What the hell are you hitting me for?”

“I’m hitting you because you deserve it for absolutely missing the point!” Peggy says, half laughing. It’s a pain to reach him from where she’s reclining on the sofa, her feet up on the arm, but she manages it.

They’re the only two left in their part of the office on a dead Sunday night. Peggy’s picking over a story of Steve’s that he has to get submitted before deadline so the editors don’t storm the newsroom. She’d been there anyway, waiting up for a statement from the office of the Secretary of Agriculture, even though she knows the only thing it will say is, “Our department is investigating further, and working closely with the FDA and USDA to resolve the issue.”

“Okay, I’ll do a follow up. Now let me file my story.”

As he stands, and leaves the break room, still fending her off, she calls after him, “It’ll have to start, ‘My tremendous colleague Peggy Carter made me realize–’”

He tries to talk over her, still laughing. “‘I was browbeaten into this by someone I once considered a– Hey, your phone’s ringing.”

“Excellent.” She slides into her shoes and moves quickly to her desk. “Maybe I’ll actually get home at an hour that won’t have my neighbors spreading nefarious rumors about me.” Steve, distracted entering final changes, still smiles but looks skeptical; he’s heard about her neighbors. She answers her phone on a breath. “Peggy Carter.”

It becomes clear almost immediately that it isn’t some harassed Agriculture staffer. “Sir,” she says as soon as she can. “I believe that one of our military reporters might be better equipped to use this information. I’ll be happy to transfer you.” Sam Wilson is good, and he’s stateside again. She goes to look up his number.

“No,” says the man on the phone gruffly. “Yours wasn’t just the first name in the phone book. I’ve liked your stuff, Carter. Start writing.”

She finds that she has already set herself up to take notes. She starts writing.

The call lasts around twenty minutes. Steve, his article finished, is just watching her by the end, with some intensity, but also the barely disguised wonder she so often sees when he looks at her. When she hangs up, she flips back through what she’s taken down.

“I think I might have something,” she says, finally looking up at Steve. His face is professional again. She might not say ‘something big,’ but she doesn’t have to. “A few weeks ago, we ran a short story about casualties in Afghanistan, a group of soldiers killed in an apparent raid.”

“Yeah, I remember it. Mostly about how the war there has been almost forgotten because of everything else going on.”

“Yes. But that might have been just what the army was hoping for. Apparently the raid was a coverup for some kind of accident. He–” She tilts her head to indicate the phone. “Obviously he’ll have to be checked out, but if I can corroborate what he’s said, this will be...significant.”

Steve slides his chair over so he can look at her directly without his computer in the way. “What’s he say?”

“That the soldiers were killed by malfunctioning equipment, but nothing standard. Apparently, a one star general–” She checks her notes. “McGinnis, decided to field test some experimental weaponry without permission. It obviously wasn’t ready.” His brow and mouth are setting back into skepticism, but a more businesslike type now, a reporter’s skepticism. “I checked while I was listening.” She turns her computer to face him, showing a picture of a strict looking man in uniform. “General McGinnis was discharged several weeks after the apparent incident. He was career military. He should have had fifteen more years, and been aiming for more brass.”

Steve says, “Sure, but there’re plenty of reasons he could have left.”

And only because it’s Steve, looking for a good-faith discussion, doubtful because it’s his job, rather than because he doesn’t think that she’s good enough to have thought these things through she takes a breath and say, “Of course. But wouldn’t you like to find out?”

They bring in Wilson after all, use him for good military information and to help vet their source, a loud and idiosyncratic but seemingly trustworthy special forces corporal. There’s quite a bit of dirt on McGinnis, even if this particular allegation doesn’t turn out to be true.

“Not enough for its own piece, unfortunately,” Peggy remarks as they maneuver a busy street beside each other on their way to meet another of Sam’s contacts. “If we filled the paper with every minor military misdemeanor, we’d have no room to report on anything else.”

“Well,” says Steve, hands in his pockets, “we’ll just have to make this one count.” She pretends not to see the trusting, admiring way he looks at her; she pretends that it doesn’t light her up inside. He holds the door open for her and they enter the quiet coffee shop.

They’ve both seen Colonel Rhodes on television. Even as he sits in civilian clothing at the cafe table, he looks somehow solid and comforting, just the kind of person you would want delivering bad news.

“This isn’t the kind of meeting I usually have with the press,” he says once they’ve settled at the table.

“We’re much less likely to shout out questions at you here,” Peggy tells him.

Rhodes lifts his eyebrows in a shrug. “Guess I’m in luck.” He takes a drink. “You understand that I can’t have my name on any of this?”

“Deep background. ‘A highly placed military source’ at most, if you’ll agree to it,” Steve reassures him, leaning forward with his notebook prepared.

“Good.” He takes a breath. “I’ve always known that things in the service are far from perfect, and that my work has a lot to do with changing things from within. But usually there’s at least elements of a system to correct. If nothing else, we’re usually good for authority.” He shakes his head. “McGinnis is something else. As far as I can tell, they covered up the things he did early on, smaller stuff, and now they can’t come forward with something big like this. It’s a major problem.”

“That’s your take from a PR standpoint?”

“That’s my take from a human standpoint. But no, it wouldn’t look good either, especially now that they’ve put out a false story.”

“You have confirmation of the dead? Injury reports?” Peggy asked.

“There’s a lot of speculation that can be made from the closed caskets, and the speed of the investigation, and how damn fast they got McGinnis out of there. It’s all suspicious, but there’s no real proof. What I will say is that the weaponry was stolen from Stark Industries. Tony Stark–” He shakes his head ruefully. “He’ll talk to you. Until you wish he wouldn’t. All on the record.”

Steve looks up from his notes. “Stark recently split with the government, withdrew from his contracts. Is this why?”

At Rhodes’s nod, Peggy asks, “Everyone knows that Tony Stark isn’t exactly quiet, and he knows how to get publicity. Why didn’t he say anything?”

“Tony...He’s gotten a little cynical about these kinds of things. He pulled out his support and I know he’ll be willing to talk, but I think he didn’t think that too many people would care.”

The bell on the door jingles. A woman walks in, and they all pause, trying to look casual. Once she’s gone to the counter to order, Peggy says, “We can certainly make them care, but we’re going to need more precise details about the incident itself.”

“This is what I can give you. A full listing of the men under McGinnis’s command.” It’s clear for the first time that Rhodes has served as a source before. He doesn’t try to slide it under the table, or look both ways and then try a handoff. He just puts it on the table, facing toward them. Peggy and Steve both lean forward to read it.

He doesn’t say anything, but Peggy can feel the second Steve’s body goes stiff. He remains professional but stays nearly silent for the rest of the meeting.

“What’s the matter?” she asks immediately after exiting the coffee shop into a misty drizzle. When he doesn’t answer, she continues. “Rhodes seems trustworthy. We’re going to have to take this to Phillips soon, so if you have some reservation–”

“I know someone on the list.”

Just saying the words seems to take something out of him, choking and painful. Peggy stops and pulls Steve into the doorway of a closed laundromat. She has the feeling that this is not a conversation suitable for a walk-and-talk. “Explain.”

“My best friend, he just came back from overseas. He doesn’t talk a lot about what happened, but I knew it was bad.” Steve swallows. “We all figured the discharge was because of his arm, but I don’t know anymore. Maybe it was because of McGinnis. Maybe he only got to come home as part of a coverup.”

“What about his arm?”

Steve looks at her steadily. “He doesn’t have it anymore.” Peggy tucks her fists into the pockets of her trench coat. She doesn’t look away. “I want McGinnis charged, I want to make sure it happens, but I can’t be involved anymore. He’s my best friend, Peggy. Ethically, it isn’t just something I can wave away in a parenthetical. Even if it was, I won’t make him talk about it. If this is true, a commanding officer lost him his arm and his friends. If I ask him to talk then he’ll do it. I’m supposed to help him get his life back, not make him put his picture next to the headline news about the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“Every person we interview,” Peggy points out, “has friends and relatives. Many of them are discussing terrible incidents in their lives. You must have realized that.”

Steve turns away. “Of course I know that. But this is–” He breaks off, regroups. “The source gave the story to you anyway. I can’t do it anymore.” He steps out of the doorway. It has started to rain harder. He pulls his collar up. “I’m going to go back. Phillips wanted a draft on congressional staffing numbers by tonight.”

Still sheltered by the doorway, Peggy watches as he walks away.

“Shepherd’s pie, and I added a cup of chicken soup on the house because it’s still cats and dogs out there,” Angie says, setting the food on the table and taking out her pad. “Where’s Steve, anyway? Been a while since you were in here alone.”

“Steve?” Peggy absently stirs at her soup. “He’s working.”

“Uh huh,” Angie says, scrutinizing her for a moment, before calling over her shoulder into the kitchen, “Luce, I’m taking a break!” loudly enough that the one other customer in the place this late winces. Angie shrugs and sits in the booth across from Peggy. “So what’s the problem?”

Peggy smiles ruefully. “One of those things I can’t really talk about, I’m afraid.”

“You’re pretty smart, Peg. I think you can find a way.”

Peggy eats a few spoonfuls of soup. After a moment she says, “There was something we were working on, and it turns out that if we were to continue following on our current path, we would likely end up hurting Steve and people he cares about. But the piece that we were working on...it’s important. And I’m not sure how to do it justice without causing pain to Steve and his friend.”

Angie rests her chin in her hand. “Huh. I see why it’s a problem. But I think we both know that Steve’s one of the good ones. He knows how much your job means to you, and how good you are at it. And if he was working on this with you, he knows how important it is. Whatever you decide, I think he’ll forgive you.”

Peggy pictures Steve’s steady gaze (“He doesn’t have it anymore.”), his head soaked by rain because he couldn’t bear to talk with her. “I’m not sure he will. Not completely.” The idea of losing it all, her ease with Steve, their natural interviews and automatic editing of each other’s work, their laughing late nights in the office, all the pieces of their friendship, all the possibility of more, holds a cloudy sort of unbearability.

“Peg.” Angie lowers her voice a bit, covers Peggy hand with her own. “You know he’s crazy about you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” To her embarrassment, Peggy finds her voice wavering a bit. “But he’s the type of person who’s loyal enough to put that aside for a friend. I don’t think I would feel the same way about him if he wasn’t.”

Ignoring the signal of the customer at the counter, Angie slides over to put an arm around Peggy. Her uniform smells, not unpleasantly, of pancake batter and salad dressing. “Then either you have to decide if this story is more important to you than Steve, or you have to figure out a way to have both.”

“I can always come to you for advice,” Peggy says with a light, slightly watery laugh. She lets herself sit with Angie, listening to the rain and feeling the heat of her soup bowl against her palms, waiting for a plan to come. Then she gets to work.

Despite her umbrella and her raincoat, Peggy arrives back at the office unpleasantly damp. Steve’s the only one there; his desk looks somehow imbalanced and lonely although nothing’s changed about it.

He sits up as she comes over to him. She sees his smudgy eyes and his familiar late-night slouch.

“Peggy.” He sounds somehow exhausted and surprised and pleased all together.

“I’ve called Sousa, and Sam,” she says. “They’re going to be leads on the story. I’ll be consulting and covering the White House angle.”

Steve’s mouth works. “You gave it up?”

“I handed it over to responsible reporters who would do it justice,” she corrects, perching on the corner of his desk. “And I removed a conflict of interest.” She catches his eyes very deliberately. “I know that you don’t want anyone talking to your friend. But despite what you may want, he is a witness. I’m sorry he’s part of the story, but this is something that happened to him. However, it doesn’t need to be me questioning him about it. I– I value you, Steve. As a partner and a friend and…”

“And?” he prompts immediately.

She shakes her head. This is a dangerous conversation to have with Steve, her deskmate, her friend. But somehow, all she feels is a champagne of eagerness. “Your investigative skills clearly have not improved if you can’t figure it out,” she tells him primly.

“If you’re going to insult me,” he says, leaning toward her, “at least do it fairly.”

When he kisses her, she’s immeasurably glad that no one is around to see. They work in a newsroom, after all, and if it looks nearly as giddy as it feels, they would make the front page.

Website Insights for a Site That Attracts More Clients

This week I launched my brand new website: actionplan.club

Over the last 20 years, I’ve designed and launched a total of seven different versions of my site.

In the process, I’ve learned a number of things, made a lot of mistakes and gained some wisdom about how to make a website serve your business and help you attract more clients.

Today, I’d like to share a summary of those insights.

A client-attracting tool

That’s ultimately what a website is. It’s not a monument to your ego or something beautiful to look at (although there’s nothing wrong with a visually attractive website).

For independent professionals, a website needs to explain to your prospective clients why you’re the person to help them with their particular issues and challenges.

A Lead-gathering tool

When someone visits your website, they should be inspired to take some sort of action right on the spot – otherwise, the chances of them ever visiting your site again are immensely low.

And that’s why I believe the most important part of your site is its ability to build an opt-in email list. If you don’t have a list, it’s like having a wonderful car with no gas in the tank.

Virtually all my business over the past 20 years has come from email promotions to those who joined the list on my website. When you don’t have a list, you severely limit your marketing possibilities.

Make opt-ins obvious

I can’t tell you how many clients have shown me their website with a tiny little opt-in box that says, “Please join my list,” or some other tepid appeal. And they wonder why they have a tiny e-list.

Fewer people want to join lists these days. We already have too much email in your in-boxes. But if you give away some substantial value, many will still opt-in to get it and join your e-list in the process.

Your opt-in box should be attractively designed and attention getting. And you should use various two-step opt-ins throughout your site. They are like little ads that say, in effect, “Go here and get my valuable free stuff,” which directs them to your sign-up page.  Free Stuff

Simple navigation – in-depth content

The biggest change I made in my new website was to dramatically simplify my navigation. My old site had links to so many pages that it become overwhelming to navigate.

But I still have in-depth pages that describe my services. These are the main pages I want my prospects to visit, that explain in detail how I help my clients. Not everyone will read long copy but serious prospects will read much more than you think.  Programs (link)

Publish a Blog

For 20 years, I’ve sent out my email newsletter to thousands of subscribers. With my previous website (since Jan 2011) I took the weekly ezine article and also posted it as a blog. Why? Because blog posts are indexed by Google and after seven years I have 355 blog posts on the web, all pointing back to my site. Blog page.

People ask how I’m able to write a new article every single week. My answer is stupidly simple: I make Mondays the day I write my ezine/blog article and it’s usually the first thing I write Monday mornings, even before I check my email. Now it’s become a habit that comes easily and naturally.

Development Tips

Use Wordpress. It took me a long time to make the transition as I’d invested a huge amount of time and money on the previous site. But you can do almost anything you want on a Wordpress site with easily installable plugins. It’s knocking my socks off!

Hire a designer. The average independent professional is not a terrible writer. But most are hopeless designers. If you design it yourself, you’ll probably love it, but you may be the only one!

It’s worth the relatively small one-time investment to get a design that will make your site look both attractive and professional.

Hire a Wordpress developer. Setting up a Wordpress site is tricky technically. My developer understands every little bit of code that makes it run smoothly. Get someone who says, “no, problem, I can do that!”

By the way, sometimes a designer and developer are one and the same person, but these are very different skill sets and few people can do both well.

Learn Wordpress basics. Once your site has been designed and developed, you need to learn how to edit and adjust it yourself. A short tutorial from your developer will give you what you need. Make sure they build that into the fee for your development.

Design Tips

Larger fonts (typeface). These days, computer monitors are bigger than ever. So, small fonts get buried.

Readable type. Don’t make your type so light that it’s a strain to read. I recently looked at an associate’s website and it was literally unreadable because his small, thin typeface was also light grey. It looked cool, but I couldn’t get through one paragraph.

Color scheme. Keep your font colors to black or dark gray, for readability, and then have two main colors for page headlines and subheads. Too many colors detract from the overall look and feel.

And by the way, reverse type or light-colored type on a dark background, are almost always a no-no. It’s not good for readability.

Also, I highly recommend using text bolding to make your key ideas pop out – but only on first sentences of paragraphs. Too much bolding can make it harder, rather than easier, to read.

White space. Text needs space to breathe. Remember, it’s all about readability. So have ample left and right page margins (about 25% of the total width of your pages), space between paragraphs, and paragraphs no longer than five lines.

Also, side columns that contain other content make your main column of text narrower, hence more readable.

Graphics. Various pictures and photos on a web page not only make it attractive, they increase readability. For instance, I like breaking up text on long sales letters with high-quality photos of independent professionals.

The site of a colleague uses beautiful pictures from nature. It really depends on your business and identity.

Remember, there is no perfect way a website should look. The primary considerations are attractiveness and highly readable text.

Web Content

I’ve written about this extensively in the past and even developed a program on this (the Website Toolkit). Ultimately, this is the most important part of your site – what you say and how you say it.

One of my favorite marketing quotes: “Write when drunk, edit when sober. Marketing is the hangover.”

If not drunk, write with passion and abandon. Then go back and tone it down a bit.

Content Flow. Most of us can write coherent sentences, but what style or approach works best for writing website content?

I use an approach called, “Marketing Syntax,” where I put ideas in a certain order or syntax. This can be used for your Home page, About page, and Services pages (which are the most important pages on your site).

The content flow goes like this:

1. Who – A section on who your ideal clients are.

2. Problem – A section on the problems and challenges your prospective clients are experiencing.

3. Desire – What your clients would like to have if they could resolve their problems and challenge.

4. Solution – The actual results you are able to deliver to your clients that fulfill their desires.

5. Credibility – Why you are uniquely qualified and experienced to help your clients.

6. Call-to-Action – What the prospective client should do next to find out more or to meet with you.

What about the process of what you do? Unfortunately, too many websites go too deeply down the “process rabbit hole” where they explain too much about how they do what they do.

Prospective clients are more interested in the results they get from your services and if you’re the right person to help them. Of course, at the end of sales letters (services pages), you can outline a little of the structure of how you work.

This is hardly an advanced course on writing for websites (the Website Toolkit is), but it’s a reliable and simple framework for writing copy that your prospective clients will relate and respond to.

Finally, I highly recommend you hire a proofreader/editor who will undoubtedly find a number of typos, grammatical mistakes, and poorly expressed ideas. It’s worth it if you are to make a professional impression.

I invite you to visit my new website and you can judge for yourself how well I’ve adhered to all of these website tips I’ve offered today.

Cheers, Robert

Action Plan Marketing helps self-employed people attract more clients through action-oriented marketing strategies that get you in front of prospective clients. Get our free report on how you can attract more of your ideal clients at this link: http://actionplan.club/free-stuff.

Article from WSJ: The Secret to Asking Better Questions

Most bosses think they have all the answers. But the best bosses know what to ask to encourage fresh thinking. Here are six ways to build that skill.

L.J. DAVIDS

By Hal Gregersen

May 9, 2019 

It is often said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different outcome.

Well, the same can be said of questions: Keep asking the same kind of question, and it is insane to think you are going to get a different kind of answer.

If you want a dramatically better answer, the key is to ask a better question.

In that one simple statement I have found a career’s worth of research, teaching and advisory work. No one raises an objection when they hear it—who could argue with the value of brilliant reframings? But at the same time, that statement alone is rarely enough. Most people want to be handed the five paradigm-smashing questions to ask.

Unfortunately, that isn’t possible. But what is possible is creating the conditions where the right questions are more likely to bubble up. To that end, here are some clear, concrete, measurable steps that any boss—or anyone, for that matter—can take to come up with those paradigm-smashing questions we all seek.

1. Understand what kinds of questions spark creative thinking.

There are lots of questions you can ask. But only the best really knock down barriers to creative thinking and channel energy down new, more productive pathways. A question that does has five traits. It reframes the problem. It intrigues the imagination. It invites others’ thinking. It opens up space for different answers. And it’s nonaggressive—not posed to embarrass, humiliate or assert power over the other party.

One CEO I know is aware that his position can get in the way of getting honest information that will challenge his view of things. Instead of coming at his managers with something like, “Competitor X beat us to the punch with that move—how did we let that happen?” he gets more useful input with questions like, “What are you wrestling with and how can I help?” He asks customers and supply-chain partners: “If you were in my shoes, what would you be doing differently than what you see us doing today?”

Think about how these questions change the whole equation. People don’t start off defensive. The problem isn’t already tightly framed. The questions are open-ended, and the answers can be imaginative—rather than telling the boss what he wants to hear.

If you want to turn this first point into a trackable activity, how about this: Start noting in a daily diary how many questions you’ve asked that meet the five criteria.

2. Create the habit of asking questions.

Many bosses simply aren’t used to asking questions; they’re used to giving answers. So in the early stages of building your questioning capacity, it’s helpful to start by copying other people’s questions. It’s the equivalent of practicing your scales. Once you’ve got the scales down, you can start to improvise.

You could do worse than to follow the questions asked by management thinker Peter Drucker, who liked to jump-start strategic thinking by asking: “What changes have recently happened that don’t fit ‘what everyone knows’ ”?

Another example: A leader in a consumer packaged-goods company constantly asks: “What more can we do to delight the customer at the point of purchase? And what more to delight them at the point of consumption?”

Again, think about what that does. Sure, the CEO could constantly repeat that the company wants to satisfy consumers. But by asking this question, it builds the habit of thinking in questions. And that, in turn, leads to daily inquiry about matters large and small, and an organization that keeps pushing its competitive advantages forward.

3. Fuel that habit by making yourself generate new questions.

Don’t stop with that generic question set, no matter how well you think it covers the bases. It will become just another activity rut reinforcing today’s assumptions if you and others become too familiar with it. Your goal is to generate new and better questions, not to cap your questioning career at the level of playing flawless scales.

Instead, every day, note something in your environment that is intriguing and possibly a signal of change in the air. Then, restrain yourself from issuing a comment on it—or if it’s your habit, a tweet—and instead take a moment to articulate the questions it raises.

Then share the most compelling of those questions with someone else. Engage with it for a minute. To some extent, this is doing “reps,” exercising your questioning muscles so they’ll be strong enough when the occasion demands. But it’s also more than that, because chances are it will actually be one of these many, seemingly small, questions that yields your next big breakthrough.

Let me offer a well-known example. Blake Mycoskie was in Argentina when by his account he noticed a lot of children running around barefoot. He didn’t need to ask why they didn’t have shoes—obviously they were poor—but here’s the question it brought him to: Is there a sustainable way to provide children with shoes without having to rely on donations? And thus he launched the social enterprise Toms, with its famous “one-for-one” business model.

4. Respond with the power of the pause.

When someone comes to you with a problem, don’t immediately respond with an answer. This is harder than it sounds, because you have probably internalized a sense long ago that you’re the boss because you’re decisive and have good judgment—in other words, you have the best answers.

Instead, make it your habit to respond with a question—ideally one that reframes the problem, but at least one that draws out more of your colleague’s thoughts on the matter. I’m not talking about the cop-out rejoinder of, “Well, what do YOU think we should do?” Help the person think through how the decision should be made, with questions like: “What are we optimizing for?” “What’s the most important thing we have to achieve with whatever direction we take?” Or: “What makes this decision so hard? What problem felt like this in the past?”

The payoff here comes in two forms. You’re teaching the colleague the value of pausing to get the question right before rushing to the answer. And nine times out of 10, you’re going to wind up with a better answer than the one you would have blurted out with less deliberation.

5. Brainstorm for questions.

This is an idea that is so simple, and involves an exercise so fast, that it constantly surprises me how effective it is. Whenever you or your team is at an impasse, or there is a sense that some insight is eluding you regarding a problem or opportunity, just stop and spend four minutes generating nothing but questions about it. Don’t spend a second answering the questions, or explaining why you posed a certain one. As in brainstorming, go for high volume and do no editing in progress. See if you can generate at least 15-20.

Eighty percent of the time, I find, the exercise yields some new angle of attack on the problem, and it virtually always re-energizes people to go at it with renewed gusto.

Here’s an example from an innovation team in a consumer-goods company. Struggling to come up with a new concept to test, we tried one of those question bursts. It started with, “What if we launched a response to [a competitor’s product] and did it better?” But soon enough it arrived at, “Are we stuck on assuming a certain price range? What if a customer was willing to give us 10 times that—what could we deliver that would be that valuable to them?” Bingo—the team zeroed in on that question as having real juice in it, and started generating more exciting ideas.

6. Reward your questioners.

Finally, keep track of how you respond when someone in the room asks a question that challenges how you’ve been approaching a problem or feels like it threatens to derail a solution train already leaving the station.

I remember hearing from executives at one company that the boss always surprised his top team by being willing to hear out even the craziest ideas. When others in the room were shaking their heads and hastening to move along, he would be the one to say, “Wait, say more…” to find the part of that flight of fantasy that could work.

If there’s one constant theme here, it’s the idea that bosses should reconceive what their primary job is. They aren’t there to come up with today’s best answers, or even just to get their teams to come up with them. Their job is to build their organization’s capacity for constant innovation.

Their enterprise’s future—and their own career trajectory—depends on their resolve to ask better questions.