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#another does maybe one per month in peak season

who-do-i-know-this-man · 3 months

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Since this blog is basically ending in a week I guess I should make an in depth post about "what's next," as well as some of my thoughts about this whole project

The big question that everyone has, so much so that I've given answers to it several times before, is "will there be a second season". Once more from the start, a whole new submission phase and a whole new bracket. To reiterate the answer I gave before while giving some new details; I don't have any plans to. That doesn't mean it's never gonna happen, but if it does I don't know when.

I usually try to avoid giving any personal info, but to give a slight peak behind the curtain I made this blog when I was taking a gap year between high school and college, so a time where I had very few responsibilities. Well I'm going to college later this year so I don't expect to be able to do the same "8 polls per day everyday for months" lifestyle that was required to run a bracket of this size.

Oh course I would like to do another one of these. It was a lot of work but it was mostly fun. It's also by far the most popular thing I've done, which comes with a level of monkey brain "big number good." Some of that has of course waned as people stop keeping up with polls when they no longer know anyone, so part of me wants to go again just for the big number satisfaction that round 1 had.

I also may dust off one of those poll blog ideas I've posted about before. A lot of people seemed to think the gerrymandered blorbo poll idea was funny, maybe I'll do that at some point.

But for now, if you wanna see more stuff from me, the only place you can really find that is my main, @chzdavmpr. I've been doing a reading diary thing where I talk about different books that I read. (only manga so far but I plan to do a bunch of differnt books). other then that it's just a bunch of reblogging memes and posts about libraries.

Welp, see you all tomorrow for the finale.

#not blorbo poll #long post

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bitcofun · 2 years

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2022 has actually been rather uncomfortable for financiers, with a lot of properties discarding hard. The cryptocurrency market is no various. Bitcoin, for instance, is down by about 70% because its peak in November 2021. Gold, nevertheless, is typically promoted as the favored hedging option in times of unpredictability, high inflation, wars, and so on. One would presume that it has actually been this year's leading entertainer. Its rate motions for the previous 7 months depict a various story. Gold's 7-Month Red Streak The ideology that the rare-earth element is amongst the very best hedge tools versus inflation has actually been running for years, offered the property's long history. Taking a look at its chart versus the dollar, one can see such benefit, particularly after the elimination of the gold requirement. But has something altered recently? There's no doubt that the world is going through bumpy rides currently, with a war raving in Eastern Europe, inflation rates escalating to multi-decade highs, brief supply of particular products, frightens of extreme winter season, and even prospective electrical energy routines in some strong nations. This should set up the best conditions for the property that is expected to safeguard in these times of unpredictability? And this was definitely the case up till March of this year when XAU/USD reached a regional peak of nearly $2,100 per ounce. However, the landscape began to alter then as the United States and other nations chose to fight inflation by raising the rates of interest. Rather of going even more north, gold reversed its trajectory and entered its longest-recorded unfavorable streak-- 7 successive months closing lower than the previous one. The rare-earth element ended October at $1,630-- or a decrease of over 22% considering that the peak in March, which is maybe why some experts have actually been questioning gold's status as an inflation hedge. XAUUSD. Source: TradingView It's worth keeping in mind that respected publications such as Forbes have actually cautioned in the past that the metal works as an "efficient inflation hedge" however just "over an exceptionally long period of time horizon of more than a century." Offered the typical life expectancy information varying from 60.4 years to 84.9, who has the time to wait on over a century? So, Is Bitcoin's Performance So Bad? Bitcoin advocates have actually compared it to gold since its facility over a lots years ago due to some resemblances, such as the restricted supply. They have actually likewise declared that BTC is a much better choice because it's digital, has a pre-programmed supply of 21 M coins ever to exist, does not require a main authority to run, and so on However, bitcoin's cost motions appeared more associated with other riskier possessions for the previous couple of years, and it increased to an all-time high of $69,000 last November. United States stocks were likewise flying high at this time. The concern was what would take place when the world's reserve banks undoubtedly stopped their free-money financial policies, which went on for over a year. Which's precisely what happened in 2022, as discussed above. Bitcoin's cost growth was likewise stopped. The possession began declining quick and presently trades at around $20,000 This suggests it's down by 71% because last November and 51% year-to-date. These portions are a lot larger than gold's devaluation considering that the start of the year and its peak. Gold is expected to be more steady. Furthermore, BTC's longest-negative regular monthly streak throughout the year is for "simply" 3 months. BTCUSD. Source: TradingView But let's call back and concentrate on another chart. Bitcoin traded at $14,000 2 years earlier on November 1st, while gold was at $1,875 Implying one is plainly up and the other down. In reality, gold's existing rate versus the dollar is specifically the like it remained in February 2013, although the greenback has actually lost a great deal of its purchasing power ever since.

BTC, on the other hand, traded at $15(yes, $15, not $15 K) at that point. Ultimately, the information above informs us that the short-term efficiency of generally more steady properties like gold might be as bad as BTC's. One need to truly look at the huge photo and choose for himself if he/she can wait for a century. SPECIAL OFFER (Sponsored) Binance Free $100(Exclusive): Use this link to sign up and get $100 totally free and 10% off charges on Binance Futures very first month( terms). PrimeXBT Special Offer: Use this link to sign up & & get in POTATO50 code to get as much as $7,000 on your deposits. Read More

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michellebill · 2 years

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3 types of sunflowers for eating

Some home garden cultivars are particularly popular because they produce lavish amounts of meaty seeds.

Note that these are also the ones that are so tasty you’ll be willing to fight the squirrels for the harvest.

Here are three of the best for anyone who wants to eat the seeds after the bright blooms have died back:

1.Mammoth Grey Stripe

No kidding, one little ‘Mammoth Grey Stripe’ seed produces a stalk that can grow eight to 12 feet tall! The flower head at the top will be at least 10 inches in diameter, and maybe as wide as 13 inches.

This variety is also open pollinated, which means it draws bees and other pollinators and relies on them, too.

To grow and enjoy this well-known cultivar, you’ll need to be able to plant it somewhere with plenty of sun and water, and where no one’s been spraying pesticides.

And the statuesque stalks need support, like a fence or bamboo stakes, with enough room so you can space them at least three feet apart.

Oh, and not to burst any bubbles, but please keep in mind that tending these is a long-term prospect. They take 100 to 110 days from sowing to blooming. That does not allow enough time if you are planting late this year, or have early frosts in your area.

These bonus-laden babies are worth all the resources you’ll expend, though. The blooms can last for more than a month before they droop to signal harvest time is nearing. Each flower can potentially yield more than 100 seeds, and the plants are deer resistant too!

Plan to cover the mature heads with netting so you won’t have to share with birds or squirrels – at least not until you place the gray-striped seeds in the feeders next winter.

2.Mongolian Giant

Remember when you were a kid and sunflowers seemed so big and tall because you were so little?

‘Mongolian Giant’ has that same effect on adults. This variety is huge! The stalks grow 12 to 14 feet tall, and produce just one flower apiece.

But you won’t feel cheated, because each flower head is a whopping 14 to 18 inches in diameter. That’s bigger than a dinner plate!

They take about 90 days to bloom. The showy yellow flower heads may last another four to six weeks before dropping their petals, and forming giant seed heads filled with contents coveted by humans and songbirds alike.

If you have the space, and they have the required attention span, growing ‘Mongolian Giant’ is a great project to try with kids. At the peak of the growing season, the stalks will gain more than an inch per day.

Some enterprising parents train these to grow as sort of a living tepee, but I prefer the simpler approach of growing several along a fence to provide a shaded play spot in the summer.

3.Snacker

Not ready to tend gargantuan stalks, but you still want to enjoy a harvest of homegrown sunflower seeds at the end of the blooming season? ‘Snacker’ might be your solution!

This popular hybrid is exclusive to Botanical Interests. It grows five to seven feet tall, and takes 60 to 70 days to flower.

The blooms, one per stem, look much like ‘Mongolian Giant’ flowers, only they’re about half the size at just six to eight inches in diameter.

Each produces up to a pound of meaty kernels, and the ripe seeds are ready about a month to six weeks after the plants bloom.

This seed-boasting variety also works as a cut flower, and can do double duty as a food provider and privacy screen.

That’s the 3 types of sunflowers for eating, Tomorrow I will introduce another 3 types of sunflowers, Just stay tuned!

#sunflowers #plants #gardening

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keltonwrites · 3 years

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I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed. “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

Subscribe to the newsletter here. Follow on Instagram here.

#newsletters #amwriting #relocation #home renovation #cabin life #cabin living #colorado #log cabin

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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FEATURE: The Top 10 Fight Scenes of 2020 According to YOU!

One of the defining features of anime as a medium are the fight scenes. From their diversity of visuals and dramatic staging to their use in narrative development to the off-the-wall powers and techniques their characters employ. Watching weightless CG battles in superhero flicks, it’s hard not to feel like Hollywood is decades behind. Let’s fix that by letting YOU decide who gets some accolades.

If you’ve read this article’s companion pieces on 2020’s OPs and EDs you know the drill. What follows is a list of the Top 10 fight scenes of 2020 as determined by viewership on the Crunchyroll Collection YouTube channel, weighted at 30 days so anime from earlier in the year don’t get an advantage and to balance flash-in-the-pan popularity vs iconic moments that will continue on in the fandom’s consciousness. It’s not a perfect metric but I’ve gotta say, the results do show some great taste ...

10. Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? - Ais vs Asterius

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Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? has always been measured with its action, honing its greatest moments into dramatic peaks, so it was great we were able to finish 2020 with not only some of its biggest battles, but Ais finally stepping on the gas for the first time on television since 2017 by battling the legendary minotaur Asterius. Ais didn’t disappoint, as she shouldn’t with her place at the very top of the adventuring world and an unreachable ideal Bell aspires to. Also, opening the fight by shearing off her opponent’s arm may be the most brutal kickoff to a Danmachi fight we’ve seen yet. This battle topped 500k in its first 30 days and I’m confident will make a lasting impression.

9. Tsugumomo2 - Kazuya vs Kyouka

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Tsugumomo’s second season delivered some absolutely huge battles, but I gotta say I’m surprised the top fight wasn’t Kanaka terrorizing the entire cast of the series with their hunt for blood. That said, Kazuya’s battle against Kyouka had some spectacular effects, a few creative obi adaptations, a divine possession, and a shorted punch to secure the victory so it had all the primary features that make Tsugumomo fights great … And for fans of the series, yes it also had that … This fight drew 600k views in its first 30 days to secure its spot on the list.

8. A Certain Scientific Railgun T - Level 6 Mikasa vs Touma and Sogiita

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A Certain Magical Index and its various spinoffs have a penchant for going completely off the rails very quickly. This fight in spinoff A Certain Scientific Railgun T is every bit as absurd. Mikasa is pushed into Level 6, giving her godlike power and sending her into a berserk state that only Touma’s magic destroying hand can take down. We also get a guest appearance from one of the series' best side characters in Sogiita whose ability to literally turn guts into power is impossible not to love.

Basically, the fight was amazing, Mikasa’s Level 6 form and its absurd power were wonderfully adapted by JC Staff and Touma and Sogiita showed off some amazing combo attacks to prevents the destruction of the city. In particular, Sogiita’s “Super Amazing” punch and princess carrying Touma drew 700k viewers in its first 30 days.

7. Golden Kamuy - The Stenka

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The most common phrase I hear from Golden Kamuy fans is that the series is underappreciated and, as a Golden Kamuy fan, I’m inclined to agree. This series is so violent, I’m constantly surprised by what it gets away with. I’m hard-pressed to think of another series that has aired in the past five years with the same level of brutality. Basically, I’m saying I’m overjoyed to see Golden Kamuy made the list, even if it's from one of its most tame battles that is simply a no-holds-barred free-for-all where everyone gets their nose broken by a berserk Sugimoto.

Might have been the JoJo's reference (not really) but this battle got 700k views in 30 days and just barely beat out Railgun T by ~1k views.

6. JUJUTSU KAISEN - Gojo vs Sukuna

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Another series I’m unsurprised to see on the list but with an unexpected battle. I would have imagined Gojo’s battle against Jogo might have drawn more attention, or perhaps more recently, Itadori’s battle with Mahito. This clip does make sense after a fashion. It was a breakout moment where MAPPA showed they really meant business adapting JUJUTSU KAISEN and the fight was between two characters that have become fan favorites.

Definitely, a defining moment that pulled in double the seventh placer's views at 1.4 million in its first 30 days! Since JUJUTSU KAISEN is still attracting new fans and already topping popularity lists, I imagine it would have been even higher given a bit more time in 2020. Gojo vs Sukuna has continued its upward climb to almost 3 million views, putting it only a few days away from claiming the Number 4 spot in lifetime views. Not bad for an anime in the year's final quarter!

5. Boruto - Sarada vs Sakura

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BORUTO: NARUTO NEXT GENERATIONS has delivered spectacularly animated battles for just about its entire run that prove this anime is no afterthought to the Naruto franchise. Despite a wide selection of quality battles that dropped in 2020, I must admit I knew this one would be at the top. What self-respecting Naruto fan wouldn’t be interested in seeing a less-than-friendly mother/daughter slugfest between Sarada and Sakura? Although theoretically a training match to help Sarada develop her Sharingan, the amount of destruction makes it clear that one wrong move and even Sakura’s medical Jutsu would have trouble putting either of them back together again.

The Uchiha family battle secured its place with 1.5 million views in its first 30 days. Sarada's family moments, even the ones without fighting, are always winners and Sarada vs Sakura is the third youngest clip on the list so I'm guessing this one is going to withstand the test of time.

4. One Piece - Zoro vs Hitokiri Kamazo

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One Piece has been on a tear since the beginning of its much-anticipated Wano Kuni arc. Even after delivering a huge battle between Luffy and Katakuri at the end of Whole Cake, there has been a notable bump in the frequency and quality of standout animation in the long-running series, which is great to see since the Wano arc is a series of back-to-back skirmishes that can be elevated by some explosive visuals.

No moment this year stands out more in my memory than Zoro’s battle against Hitokiri Kamazo and it seems the fans agree. Zoro borrowing his enemy’s weapon to pull off an amazingly animated Purgatory Onigiri may be one of the coolest sequences in One Piece’s almost 1,000-episode long run. This moment also got 1.5 million views in 30 days, narrowing beating Boruto by about 13k views.

3. Black Clover - Everyone vs The Devil

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Black Clover has grown as a production to develop a unique visual style for magic-heavy battles and really deliver some hugely impressive battles. It’s ramp up hit a peak in 2019 with the battle between Julius and Licht and it’s been riding high ever since. The top fight of 2020 is an obvious one, as the climactic moment of the series' insanely escalating arc kicked off by Julius and Licht’s battle. It seems like half the cast piled into Hell to take on the unnamed devil and his overpowered word soul magic. To be honest I was surprised the series kept going at all after a moment this climactic (I’m not complaining though).

The final attack of this battle drew 1.6 million views in its first 30 days and now sits proudly in the Number 2 spot for lifetime views on this list at over 5.5 million!

2. The God of High School - Jin vs Jaegal

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With its sheer number of lovingly animated battles, The God of High School was a shoo-in for this list and might represent 50 percent or more of its total entries if I hadn’t limited it to one entry per series. Jin vs Jaegal is a natural choice, as the climactic battle of the fast-paced fighting series which delivered on the much-anticipated reveal of Jin Mori’s charyeok. This one really put the god in the high school, jumping far past One Piece to pull 2.1 million views in its first month.

1. My Hero Academia - Endeavor vs Special Nomu

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My Hero Academia had a huge climactic battle to cap off the winter season, so I gotta say I’m surprised to see it’s the other one that secured the top spot as the Number 1 battle of 2020. Deku vs Overhaul was a huge moment for the series and definitely sits in the upper half of this list, if not the Number 2 spot — but something about Endeavor fighting a Nomu really pulled in a crowd, even putting the clip on YouTube’s trending list. It continues to creep upward at 7.5 million views. One of the most-watched moments of the entire year!

On reflection moments that show a theoretical power ceiling of a series are always impactful, such as Orochimaru’s battle with Sarutobi or even My Hero Academia’s own battle between All Might and All for One. Endeavor definitely pulled out the guns for this battle to leave an impression before the long wait until the next season ... Or maybe it was just because he said “plus ultra?” Regardless, Endeavor blasted past even the Number 2 spot on this list at 3.7 million views in its first 30 days.

Those were the best battles of 2020 according to you and, consequently, the last of this series of Top 10 lists. When it comes to fights there’s a lot more to look forward to in 2021. Boruto, Black Clover, and One Piece have all been building toward their current arcs' big conflicts and each seems primed to pull the trigger early next year. If that weren’t enough JUJUTSU KAISEN is about to kick off its school event and MHA is set to make its return.

That does it for 2020. Hope to see you all at the same time next year.

If you feel the fandom has missed a great moment, feel free to share it in the comments below!

Peter Fobian is an Associate Producer at Crunchyroll, writer for Anime Academy and Anime in America, and an editor at Anime Feminist. You can follow him on Twitter @PeterFobian.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Peter Fobian

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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rokutouxei · 3 years

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the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 12 OF 22

My heart is an unmade bed; it might look messy, but I swear it’s a safe place to rest. - Moriah Pearson

It doesn’t take long for the Rooftop to become their place.

At first, it is a matter of weather. The tail end of autumn and the first breezes of winter mean that the Grove can get a little too cold in the late afternoons when they meet; and in truth, the Rooftop is barely any better, but at least there’s a stunning view below, and a vending machine for hot drinks at the first floor. If it gets too cold out, there’s the storage room on the same floor that’s decked out with windows—Isaac keeps all the astronomical equipment in here, mostly the telescopes, but also a few plastic chairs and tables.

Peak convenience.

This was totally not what she had planned from the beginning.

Definitely. Not at all.

It doesn’t take long for them to surrender and make the Rooftop their little hiding space. The hours spent in companionable silence in the Grove have just changed locations, but—somehow, up here, where there’s only the two of them, it’s a little more… intimate. They spend an hour or so with their usual book exchange and then—they stay to listen to each other.

For hours. Sometimes long enough for them to be out past dinner.

It just feels right.

It feels right the same way she feels content that the books he ends up lending her do reveal quite a lot about his character. It feels right the same way he feels like every extra day they spend together, even if they are discussing the most trivial of things, she burrows a little deeper into his defenses. She devours every single title he passes on, Hosseini, Pratchett, Heiligman, Stone, no matter how long the book is, no matter how complicated it seems—and he lets his heart rest in every collection she hands him, Plath, Lorde, Angelou, Thomas, Lawrence.

Every book an opened door.

Every word just the littlest millimeter closer.

Take, for example, the time they began talking about The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Shaffer and Barrows, which was lent by Theo, and the conversation went:

“Okay, but you have to agree that there’s nothing quite like a hand-written letter. It hits different. Regular messages and calls are great, of course, but the idea that time and energy was lent to writing down a letter? Peak romance.”

Theo nods. “The personality in the handwriting.”

“Oh, definitely!” she nods. “And eventually you’ll be able to tell their emotions based on how their handwriting is a little different—something like the psychology of handwriting?”

“To me personally, it’s the hand-made nature that makes letters appealing.”

“Yes! The craft of it! The fact that the ink and the paper, and that it’s both visual and literary—” she emphasizes this with the classic chef’s kiss; pinching her thumb and index finger and kissing them away.

They talk about the most trivial of things, they talk about the deepest of things. Conversations shift from gossip to philosophy, from the news to deep fantasy. The Rooftop becomes theirs, becomes the little space they inhabit on campus where they can shake the wings of their little bond together out wide.

Of course, they could very well invite their other friends into this little book club of theirs; Arthur is pretty well-read; it will be easy to drag Dazai out if Arthur is involved; Isaac could budge with some convincing; but—

They just know that with each other, it’s different.

Like that time Theo arrives first at the Rooftop, and she manages to sneak up on him without him noticing, as he was so deep in his thoughts; she had caught him writing on his journal in his elegant script, and she had nearly yelled into his ear because of how surprised she was.

“A fellow connoisseur!” she says, sitting immediately next to him on the bench table, bumping shoulders; Theo is pulling his fountain pen away from the page to avoid marking on it. “Here I was being teased for writing in cursive for being old fashioned, and you’re out here doing the same!”

“I’ve never teased you for writing in cursive,” Theo insists, flashbacking through every book log he’d made her sign in the bookshop.

She nods excitedly. “I know! I thought you were just being nice, but it’s so cool to see you do it too!” She beams. “There’s a required hand-written portion in the test by the OSR and they required to write in print, and I was so sad… what about all my loopy L’s…”

“I like it because it’s convenient, not pretty,” Theo says with a frown.

“That’s because you already have gorgeous handwriting,” she quips. “And of course, you write with a fountain pen. Just the right amount of bougie for a business major.”

“Excuse me?”

One book after another, one Saturday into the next. It doesn’t matter that she’s at the bookshop twice a week, that they see each other even outside of this space; when they’re up here, they are different people. They are more similar people. They go around the world sitting at the Rooftop exchanging stories. They switch Antoine de Saint-Exupéry for Emily Dickinson; Murakami Haruki for Richard Siken; Phillip Williams for Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

She talks about the astronomy club, admits how at the beginning her only reason for joining was because she wanted to get access to the rooftop, and now, how much more she’s gotten out of it. He talks about the business club and how the snobbier members had pushed him out of active membership. She talks about her childhood, the familiar streets of the city below, all she’s ever known. He talks about Vincent and the younger years, living out in the country, running around in rye fields dreaming of the future.

The two of them are friends.

Unlikely, maybe, and at first maybe at least a little bit unwilling, but—they are now. And who would have imagined that one little invitation from Vincent to do some modeling in his little apartment would lead to this? To whispers about Anna Karenina. To plans to going to the post office to check out their most beautiful postcards—to send them to each other, if only in the spirit of it. To hiding away from the rest of the busy university when the rest of the world is too loud.

To muse about the future that seems too far out, to feel like it is close enough to grasp.

And as one season seeps into the next and Theo walking her home to her dormitory’s doorstep with her book in his hands just becomes normal, the vaguest twinkle of a thought shimmers in both their minds for the briefest of moments.

They just don’t catch it yet.

It is late November when the official administrative instructions for Dragon’s Hoard’s closures for the holiday seasons come into Arthur’s and Theo’s inboxes.

The email also delightfully includes the details about their holiday pay.

Dragon’s Hoard is a small bookshop, sure, but it is still owned by one of the richer, old-money families of the city, so of course, the employees get a sizable 13th-month pay at the end of the year. But not only that—they’re also eligible for a bit of holiday pay. A lot of things come into the computation of it, as far as they’re concerned—the state of the economy, the year’s average revenue from the bookshop, just about how nice their boss is feeling this year—so it varies, but this year…

This year, Saint-Germain took it up a notch.

Maybe even two.

Arthur whistles as he reads the email, staring at the multiple digits itemizing what they’ll receive soon. “How does this man make money, why does it seem like he never runs out?”

Theo puts down the fresh stock of books onto the counter for sorting. He hasn’t been on his phone since his shift started, because he likes to wave a bit of moral superiority over Arthur out of pettiness. “Bonus kicked in?”

“Kicked hard,” Arthur says, flashing his phone screen to Theo. “Check that out.”

Theo catches the numbers and does the math quickly in his head. When one is saving up for something, every tiny bit counts. He had intended to put the entirety of his bonus onto the money he was putting aside, but with this amount…

“That’s a lot,” is all he can say. The bookshop has been operating as per usual throughout the year, and with the spreadsheets, there hadn’t been a huge leap of income either…

“I guess if your last name is Saint-Germain, you’re probably rich as balls,” Arthur comments, taking his phone back again to check the email one more time to make sure he didn’t dream that up. “But he probably gets something out of this too.”

“Charity work, maybe, against his taxes.”

“Probably.”

And if Arthur had any sense of self-preservation, he would have stopped there. Would have kept his phone in his pocket and dropped the conversation altogether, returning to the hum of tasks left in the bookshop for today. But would Arthur really be Arthur if he didn’t live to put himself in harm’s way for the amusement of it?

So, he slides up against Theo and asks, “So where are you spending the money?”

Theo’s eyebrow twitches. “Vincent,” is his short reply. And that should already say it all, but—

“No Christmas gift for the missus? You know, there’s only so much dates can do, sometimes you got to give a little bling, before—”

Arthur wins mercy from Theo’s punch by promising him free lunch.

“Dazai, I’m not pursuing him,” she sighs. “That’s not the right verb.”

“Oh? Then what should it be? Are you ‘courting’ him?”

The two of them are sitting across each other at the café Vincent works in, each with a book in hand. Dazai doesn’t seem too interested in reading the Japanese translation of Pride and Prejudice.

He closes the small bound book, bookmark already in place. He has that knowing smile on his face that lets her know she’s already lost before the battle’s even begun. “Toshiko-san, you can’t keep telling me one thing and then showing the world another.”

When she first spotted Dazai across the café earlier today, at the start of her break in-between classes, she thought it might not be too bad to stay with him until her next lecture begins, for some wholesome, literary students bonding time. Besides, reading next to each other has always been their way of hanging out anyway—very stereotypical of them.

She should have figured out that she is transparent to her best friend and just being next to each other with unsaid things clouding her mind would eventually lead to conversations she doesn’t want to have yet.

It’s just her luck that it’s worth it to be in Dazai’s company.

She closes her own book shut. Gabriel Garcia Marquez can wait. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know why you guys keep insisting that there is something more in between us when there isn’t.”

“I haven’t seen you get so worked up about maintaining a book exchange.”

“Hey, we did that too!”

“Not for long,” Dazai notes, and he’s right. They did, at some point, the summer before, the one they spent together after neither of them decided to go home for the extended holiday. They tore through two books, sometimes more, a week, for a month, until—well, they decided to do something else.

She shakes her head. “They’re just books.”

“The books, the dare,” he counts with his slender fingers, “you have to take responsibility sometimes, you know? You don’t need to blame anyone else for your own actions.”

She huffs as she drops her book into her bag unceremoniously. “You are blowing things out of proportion.”

“Then there’s the Rooftop, and the Halloween date, and—”

“Oh would you look at the time,” she says, standing up suddenly from her chair, the tips of her ears red, her voice’s loudness near comical as other customers from every direction turn toward her—“I’m going to be late for class if I don’t go now, I’ll see you soon, Osamu!”

Dazai smiles and waves goodbye even if he knows her next class isn’t in an hour.

The weather is unforgiving outside, and the entire horizon white with snow, the breeze bordering unpleasant. The two of them have a back-and-forth of switching places today: maybe at the Little Owl, or the cafeteria at the university’s main library, maybe even at the van Gogh’s house, but—

They find themselves at the Rooftop anyway.

Today, they’ve swapped J. Neil Garcia with Ursula K. Le Guin, and after an interesting exchange about identity, self, and the importance of fantasy in imagining what else one can become, they’re sitting across each other on a table, nursing what’s left of their vending machine hot drinks.

The question pops out of her mouth so suddenly, even she has a look of surprise after she’s said it.

“Does Arthur ask you about this, too?”

Theo puts down his paper cup of coffee. “About what?”

“About this,” she says, making a gesture at the both of them. “You know, our little book exchange. Hanging out on Saturdays. Does he make a big deal out of it?”

“When he’s being a bastard,” Theo answers quickly. “Is he bothering you?”

“No! No.” She shakes her head, smiling at him reassuringly. “I was more curious if it bothers you.”

“Why would it bother me?”

The question is simple, but Theo watches as her face contorts in some sort of confusion. Sure, Arthur being his usual unfunny joker can get on his nerves, but the teasing doesn’t bother him in the way he knows she is asking about. Not when he knows what’s really going on.

Or he thinks he knows.

“Doesn’t he make this a bigger deal than it is?”

“He does.”

Unease mixed into her genuine curiosity: “That doesn’t bother you?”

Theo doesn’t like that expression on her. “Would you rather I more firmly correct him?”

The smile finally returns to her face as she playfully hits him on the arm. “No, I know what you mean by ‘firmly’. He’s like that but Arthur’s still my friend, you know.”

“You know he deserves it.”

“He does, but still.” The smile doesn’t go away and relief fills Theo’s veins. He’s not used to seeing her so upset. It only reminds him of the one time he messed up after the Halloween party. “I’m glad it doesn’t, though. I thought we’d have to… I don’t know, tone it down, or something.”

Theo knows one thing and that it is always more than with her—even when he doesn’t understand quite what it is. Instead, he says, “They’re free to misunderstand however they want.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, you’re right.”

For some moments, they are quiet. They’ve shared so many silences that they’ve learned when it’s the silence that’s fine in being empty, and the silences where something is being phrased, ordered, prepared, like the way an inhale does before an exhale. Theo knows this is the latter.

So he waits.

What he does hear after, though, is not anything he’s expecting.

“You know, Theo, I don’t think I’ve ever really heard about what you want to do with your life.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, bored. “It’s not anything interesting.”

“Try me?”

Theo doesn’t know what to tell her at all. Instead, he looks down at the town below, out the window, making out the shapes of houses through the blanket of white. He no longer knows where his dreams end and where his delusions begin. It’s not that he hadn’t toyed with the options—curating, working for a museum, art dealership—but nothing has really caught him. Not when he has something more urgent at hand.

After what seems like an infinite number of moments, he answers: “I want to see Vincent flourish as an artist.”

Silence.

The lack of reaction causes him to turn back at her. “What? Not going to laugh?”

“What?” she blinks. “No, no, I’m not laughing. That’s actually pretty sweet of you.”

“Stop. I’ve had enough brother complex jokes from Arthur.”

“No, that’s not—oh my god, he’s right, holy shit.” She stifles a laugh onto her sleeve. He glares at her, but it only makes her laugh harder. “Haha, wait, no, relax. I was going to say something serious.”

He raises an eyebrow, daring her to continue. She clears her throat.

“That’s a dream about Vincent, though. And while I respect it—I want to hear about yours.”

“That is my dream,” Theo insists. “Everything that happens past that is a bonus.”

She shakes her head. “No, no, that’s definitely not it. There has to be something you want to do for yourself, right?”

Theo has half a heart to wish that he’s built enough of a persona in her head that a little version of him in her mind answers that’s none of your business for him. Because it’s not right, it’s not entirely right, so he can’t tell that to her, but he can’t tell her either.

He isn’t like her. She’s a rocketship pointed at the open Milky Way with directions and a path coded right into her system.

He doesn’t even have a trajectory.

Just lost in orbit, an astronaut detached from their mission, breathing on oxygen that’s running out.

He doesn’t get to say anything.

But because she is who she is in that laser-piercing way Theo can’t sometimes stand, she says, instead, softly, her voice so gentle it sounds like she is offering Theo a flower made out of snowflakes: “He’d want you to pursue your own little happiness too, you know?”

He closes his eyes in response to this—like blocking out one sense would make this all easier to push away. And when he answers, his voice sounds hoarse, like he’s been screaming. “I have no dream,” he says, simply. There’s a space at the end of it that lingers, one that could be filled with yet or anymore. It weighs a million tons.

And in return, she beams at him like the sun, reaching out to pull at his cheek that it makes his eyes fly open.

“Wet gow—"

“We’ll find you one, stupid,” she answers, ever so certainly. “Make that your current dream! To find one, you know?”

And no, Theo doesn’t know. Theo doesn’t really have feelings about this anymore, except that he wants to do his best for Vincent. Maybe one day there will be a dream. But not now. Maybe one day. He takes a sip out of the hot coffee from the paper cup, and it takes like the cheap vending machine drink it actually is, but—

He holds in his heart that maybe she’s right—and somehow, the thought makes the coffee just a little bit better.

A few days later, Theo hums under his breath as he flips the pancake he’s currently cooking in the kitchen. Because Saint-Germain respects that people buy holiday presents in advance, he and Arthur have finally gotten their holiday pay in. And this morning, the bank statement’s updated and the cheque has cleared: the amount is fully deposited in his account, and now there are no takebacks.

This is really, really happening.

He hears a yawn coming from down the hall and out comes Vincent, fresh from the studio. His hands are stained with paint in varying degrees of dry, and he’s bringing with him two clear glasses: one muddied with paint water, the other with the remnants of pulp from orange juice. Theo hopes there was no incident of switched glasses last night—that was not a fun experience last time.

Vincent places the glasses on the sink nearby and hovers around his younger brother. “Pancakes?” He smiles. “Something good happen to you?”

“Yeah, really good,” Theo says, unable to hide his excitement. He slides the cooked pancake on top of another on a waiting plate, and hands it to Vincent with a grin. “I can’t wait for you to hear about it, broer. Eggs?”

“Please, and over easy,” Vincent answers, taking the plate with him, off to set their little dining table. “Is this about you finally dating?”

Theo nearly crushes the egg in his hand. “What?”

“It’s not?” Vincent is sincerely shocked. “I was sure it was. You sounded so happy.”

“You know I don’t have time for that.” Theo huffs. Nearly puts too much salt. He prods at the egg with a little more force than required.

Coming back to the kitchen for utensils and a carton of juice, Vincent ruffles his brother’s hair gently. “You’re always working too hard, it’s not bad to entertain those kinds of things sometimes, you know?”

Theo flips the egg. The oil crackles loudly like his denial. “There’s nothing to entertain,” he insists, as Vincent slips back to the table. “You don’t have to worry about that, broer.”

“Okay.” Vincent sits at the table. He pretends to not see right through Theo. “So, what’s gotten you in such a good mood?”

“My holiday paycheck came in the other day, and the boss was extra generous with the bonus this year,” Theo begins, cracking another egg over the pan. Stirs it gently to make a nice, scrambled egg. He’s so used to domestic life with his brother, for a moment the idea of him going away flashes in his mind with a jolt of fear. He shakes it away as he taps some salt over the pan. “Went to the bank yesterday, and it reflected today.”

“Nothing’s better than a good holiday bonus, yeah?” Vincent says, smiling in support. “I got a good bit too. Might be enough to get a good new easel.”

“Great timing,” Theo says, a soft smile on his face. Turns off the fire, puts the egg on the plate, and nearly rushes in excitement to his brother on the table. (Not without coming back for the maple syrup in the fridge, of course, because who eats pancakes without it?)

Vincent faces the table properly to begin to eat breakfast, but before he even gets to reach for his fork and knife, Theo has his hands in his.

“Great timing, because you’ll need the easel. At the current rate, I’m just going to need to work for two more full months… and we might be able to rent a decent space with the amount we’ve been saving up for an exhibit.” Theo has stars in his eyes. He hasn’t been this excited in years. His dream has always been to be the wind underneath his brother’s wings—letting him fly. That was all he ever wanted. He can think of himself some other time. This time, this is for Vincent. And here they are: so close to it.

Vincent smiles at Theo, beams, “That’s great! Congratulations!” but pulls his hands away anyway. Like he touched something hot. He clears his throat and turns to his plate. “Let’s eat.”

For a moment, Theo furrows his eyebrows at his brother’s reaction, but then lets it go.

It doesn’t occur to him until much later that he shouldn’t have.

#the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo

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emotionalsupportfiction · 4 years

Text

We need warm soft fluffy things… I’ve been writing so much angst and that Critical Hit request really really hit me in the feels (I’m weak… I cried while writing them okay?) My birthday’s passed (It was last month) and this for all my readers who have or will celebrate their birthday soon. (Also myself for self-indulgence)

RGB celebrating their S/O’s birthday

Python

· He straight up pretends he forgot or will give a simple “Happy Birthday” greeting with a little kiss

· He’s actually preparing a surprise for you later on in the day

· He’s made a mental list of all the things you’ve pointed out and mentioned you wanted in the past. With his little savings, he’s bought a few of them, the ones he could afford at least

· Python’s not gonna risk ruining your cake because he made it himself, he’ll opt to get one from a baker. Nothing too fancy but nice enough to show his most favourite person he cares

· If you get a bit irritated with him because of his lacklustre greeting, that’s all part of his plan. Gives him ample time and space to get everything ready

· Python’s preparing a little private celebration for two (definitely not in his quarters or your own. So you don’t prematurely find the surprise) a few gifts from Python, some food, and small cake

· He’ll find you and blindfold you so he can take you to the surprise

· “Blindfolds? Really? If you’re trying to block out the angry look I’m giving you…” “I know I messed up sunshine… lemme make it up to you m’kay?” He cut you off and you gave him an irritated nod, if he’s trying to apologize might as well let him right?

You feel him lead you to a room. “ Aight, you can take off the blindfold…” was that nervousness in his voice? But you weren’t going to let him off easy. “Py before I started dating you I knew you were a simple guy. Not one to do anything extravagant or fancy but I was hoping maybe my birthday was an exemption? Nothing grand, maybe a small gift or a cake..” you pulled the blindfold off your face and was greeted by Python’s “little”surprise

The room was candlelit, a table at the center decorated with simple yet elegant cloth. There were a few gifts on the table and food you loved. Touched, you covered your mouth in awe then you laid your eyes on your cake. It was simple and small, partially covered with cream and topped with in-season fruit. Python hugged you from behind and kissed your temple. “I… had to act like a bit of a jerk to get this all ready for you.” He gave you a light squeeze “Sorry if I made you feel unimportant… you’re… the best person who’s ever come into my life. Always remember that.” He felt you shift in his arms, then you turned to face him. The smile and tears of joy on your face turned his insides into goo. You cupped his face “Oh Python… This is… all this. I would’ve been happy with just the cake but this is above and beyond! You’ve set the bar too high for yourself…” he knew you were trying to add some humour to the situation but he was feeling too sentimental. He planted a deep loving kiss on your lips. “I’ll do it every year to celebrate your birthday sunshine…” he whispered against your lips.

Lukas

· While he doesn’t mind planning a surprise for you, making your birthday a covert operation isn’t really his style. He’ll mention he has something planned but won’t go into specifics as to what he intends to do

· You’ll realize that as you go through your day most of your chores are finished or you’ll notice Lukas’ token care packages hanging around. Attached to those care packages are notes “I thought I’d ease your burden, considering its your name day” “Can’t have the celebrant hungry/thirsty, treat yourself my love.” “I cannot believe I’m saying but I’m actually excited to celebrate with you later tonight.” “Today is truly a special day. For it is the day the person who gave me warmth and happiness was born.”

· He might not look it but Lukas gets very romantic and mushy with you. Just like Python he has trouble expressing it. Although Python is more on at a loss on how to express his affection, Lukas is overwhelmed with the emotions and ideas on how he can show you he cares deeply about you

· It takes him some time to sort out his feelings and be organized with how he wants to express his feelings

· Lukas had planned a intimate dinner with you to celebrate your birthday, all the food he had cooked himself. He anxiously sat himself at the table waiting for your arrival. Lukas thought you were taking longer than expected, had he not done enough of your chores for the day to free up your schedule?

The sound of someone knocking on the door snapped him out of his reverie, “Lukas! Sorry I’m late, I picked up something to add to our celebration.” he perked up as heard you let yourself in. “No need to apologize…” he positioned himself to the side of the dinner table.

As you entered you noticed the spread on the table, quite the feast for just a party of two. You couldn’t help but pull Lukas into an embrace “I hope you’re alright with this, I know how you are with touchy-feely things…” you felt his body relax into your arms, slowly Lukas returned the warm gesture. Nestling his head into the crook of your neck “As long as its from you… To be honest, I’d want nothing more that for you to hold me. But shouldn’t I be the one showering you with gifts and attention? It is your name day.” You gave him a quick peck on the temple “The celebrant must also give party favours to their guests.”

Lukas lead you to the table and pulled you a seat. You couldn’t help but hungrily eye the dishes he had prepared for you though the more you looked at the food the more you realized a certain theme to them. You pointed towards one of the dishes “Isn’t that… That’s the first recipe we tried together!” A small smile crept onto Lukas’ lips “Yes, before we started dating.” You then focused your attention on another dish loaded with a fond memory “Oh! This is the one from our first date!” He nodded then pointed his hand towards another plate of food “You taught me how to make this one.” You propped your elbows on the table and rested your head onto your hands, recalling that memory. You had mentioned it was your favourite dish so Lukas wanted to learn it.

One particular dish caught your eye, it was unfamiliar, no treasured memory attached to it. “And this one?” You pointed towards it. “That’s a new dish for a new memory my love.” He pressed a soft kiss into your hair. “A traditional dish, cuisine from a faraway land. Specially made on name days. The lore behind it says that a celebrant who eats it will be granted a long and happy life.”

You hugged your lover, burying your face into his side. “Oh Lukas… As long as you’re with me I’m sure I’ll have a long and happy life.”

Forsyth

· Forsyth has way too many ideas on how to celebrate your birthday. His idea board is just… messy. Lukas and Python have to step in and help organize things

· He follows Lukas’ suggestion of a home-cooked dinner celebration but Python knows all too well that his best friend’s areas of expertise are being Clive’s #1 fan and the battlefield

· His friends offer their help but Forsyth refuse, this is something he feels like he should do alone or else it would diminish the sentiment and intimacy of the gesture. So Lukas writes a detailed recipe on how to bake a cake

· He’s too excited to keep the surprise a secret. Forsyth’s pretty much blurted it out to you (Much to the other two’s dismay) but his excitement is a gift in-it-self

· Forsyth showers you every day with attention and compliments so he thinks its time he does something for you. Or in this case, make something for you

· He hastily finishes all his chores for the day so he can head into town to buy any other ingredients he might need. Once he’s done with that, he starts working on your birthday cake

· Ever since Lukas gave him the recipe and instructions, Forsyth had diligently read and re-read it back to back. Memorizing and fully understanding every instruction and detail. In his mind as long as he followed the instructions to the letter, he could not fail despite being… not so adept in the kitchen.

Forsyth shook the doubt out of his mind and began preparing the ingredients. Measuring and sifting the dry ingredients, and readying the wet ingredients. He then proceeded to mix everything in a bowl until well incorporated. After that he poured it into a buttered cake pan and into the oven it went. Now it was time for him to prepare the cream to top the cake, he vigorously whipped the cream. Bobbing the whisk up and down to check the consistency, it should be just shy of “stiff peaks”, as per Lukas’ instructions. He moved on to preparing the berries for decoration, that was done quickly. Far too quickly, now he had to wait for the cake to finish baking, torture in other words.

He pulled a chair and seated himself in front of the oven door, anxiously eyeing the metal door knowing the fruits of love and labour were on the other side. Forsyth was tempted to open, just for a quick peek, just to make sure it wasn’t burning inside. Lukas’ instructions said not to open the over door as it would mess up the heat and the cake might not bake evenly. Forsyth twiddled his fingers nervously, what if the oven was too hot? What if the batter had overflowed? Perhaps it baked faster than anticipated? The thoughts were killing him, he tentatively reached out to open the door. “AH-AHEM.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes darted to the door of the kitchen.

Lukas stood at the door way with Python right behind him. “Told ya he’d get all fidgety and try to open the darn thing…” the archer shrugged. “I DIDN’T MEAN TO DEVIATE FROM THE INSTRUCTIONS LUKAS! I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE THE CAKE WAS BAKING PROPERLY!” Lukas motioned a calming gesture “Its alright Forsyth, we were simply checking up on you. It looks like you have a good handle on things so we’ll leave you to it.” And with that his friends left.

The specified time had passed and Forsyth pulled the finished cake out of the oven, his whole being tingling with excitement. This might be the first successful dish he’s created and his personal victory would be all sweeter since it was an effort for you, his most beloved. He looked at the cake, it looked dense. It wasn’t fluffy or spongy as the instructions described. His excitement turned to panic and he promptly called his friends to assess what had happened.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAH! Leave it to you to over mix the batter eh ol’ green bean!” Python hugged his sides, hysterical with laughter. All the colour had drained from Forsyth’s complexion, the day was coming to a close, you’d be home from duties and yet there was no cake to celebrate with. Lukas covered Python’s head with an empty bowl to silence the man. “Seems like you’re pressed for time Forsyth, let me help and I’ll leave decorating the cake to you. Would that be alright?” Lukas knew how much this meant to his comrade. It wasn’t how he planned but at this point if he didn’t get help from Lukas there would be no cake and Forsyth would feel responsible for ruining your birthday. He begrudgingly accepted Lukas’ help, pouting like a sad puppy in the corner. Once the batter was in the oven, Lukas and Python once again made their exit while wishing Forsyth good luck.

This time the cake came out fluffy. PERFECT. Now all that was left was to decorate and Forsyth got to that straight away. It was growing dark and you’d be there soon, he quickened his pace.

“Oh~ I can’t wait to taste the cake my boyfriend made just foooor me~” he heard your approach, he’d only covered one side with cream, he hadn’t even topped it yet with any berries! You peaked your head into the kitchen and behold the sight of your boyfriend frantically icing a half-naked cake. For some reason that made you feel all fuzzy inside, how worked up and passionate he was trying to make your birthday special.

Should you call his attention? You opted to. In a gentle voice you asked him “Hey Fors, whatcha doooing?” Making it sound as soft and cutesy as you could make it. He looked up to you on the brink of tears, then looked back to the cake. “Oh…” was all he could say, he looked defeated. You entered the kitchen and gave him a tight hug “Look at you my personal baker! You did amazing!” You felt him slump into your arms, eyes looking down on to the floor. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead onto yours. “I just… wanted to make you special day even more special… I can’t seem to do that though. Forgive me.” You shook your head, rubbing it gently against his. Giving him a quick peck on the nose as you cupped his face and looked him sincerely in the eyes “Oh Forsyth, any day I spend with you is extra extra special! You go out of your way every day to make me happy and you do just that plus so much more. Don’t beat yourself over it.” He took your hand and pressed a tender kiss into your palm. “I promise to apply myself and become a better cook… I want to do these kinds of things for you.” You pinched his cheeks “I know you will. You’re a dedicated soldier so I’m sure you’ll be a dedicated student to the culinary arts. I want to try the cake~!”

You took a bite-sized slice of the cake, it was still warm from the oven, hence the cream sliding off it but it was light, fluffy, and delicious. It was the thought and effort that was the best gift you got from Forsyth.

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randomvarious · 4 years

Video

youtube

S Club 7 - “S Club Party” Now That's What I Call Music! 6 Song released in 1999. Compilation released in 2000. Pop

We love the overly transparent crass commercialism of the 90s and early 2000s, don’t we folks? S Club 7 were the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed septet of British teens and 20-somethings that were concocted in a lab and thrust upon hordes of impressionable tweens across the world. The story of S Club 7 is a rather gross one that consists of young and attractive, moderately talented people being taken advantage of by their manager and his company to churn out gobs of content without just compensation. If you’re an American of a certain age, you probably know a little something about S Club 7. Their ballad, 2000′s “Never Had a Dream Come True,” peaked at #10 and #8 on the Billboard Hot 100 and Billboard Mainstream Top 40, respectively. Two of S Club 7′s other biggest global hits, the Jackson 5-inspired “Bring It All Back” and “S Club Party” never charted in the US, but lots of Americans still seem to be familiar with them.

S Club 7 was the brainchild of Simon Fuller, one of history’s most successful music managers, who had managed the Spice Girls. Fuller was known for manufacturing a bunch of British boy and girl bands throughout his career and, at the time, also managed Annie Lennox of the Eurythmics and athletes, too. After helping the Spice Girls skyrocket into global superstardom as a brand that sold itself on a gimmicky blend of “girl power” and quirky British-ness, Geri Halliwell (Ginger Spice) orchestrated his firing. Citing his unbearably controlling nature and his marketing schemes, the Girls decided to proceed without Fuller.

But the day after his firing, Fuller was back at it. This time, he decided he would start a new band, but rather than it being a boy band or a girl band, it would be a boy-and-girl band, modeled after an idea put forth by another British group, Steps. Steps are a quartet, and while they’ve achieved little to no success in the US, they have enjoyed wild success in Europe, especially in the UK. And they’re still around. After a five year hiatus that followed a twelve year hiatus, Steps released an album in 2017 that reached #2 on the UK charts.

But they weren’t a Fuller group. Fuller seemed to have the connections and gravitas that Steps’ managers didn’t. To start his new group, Fuller held an audition of an astonishing 10,000 people, which eventually was culled down to seven. These seven would then be formed into a group and be dubbed S Club 7. None of the members had known each other prior, but according to all the articles I could find, they hit it off and they all became close friends.

With this crop of kids, Fuller saw dollar (or pound or Euro) signs. S Club 7 were going to be way more than just a pop group; they were going to be a marketable brand. And to achieve that goal, the first thing they were going to do was not get into the recording studio, but instead shoot a fictional TV series to air on CBBC (Children’s BBC) to introduce themselves to British pre-teens. Each character would have their own personality, which would be loosely based on their true selves, and together the group’s adventures would strengthen their bond. And each episode would consist of a choreographed song performance, too. The first season, set in Miami, would depict the seven constantly being exploited by a seedy hotel manager and made to perform housekeeping duties.

Unfortunately, these fictional circumstances were loosely based on their own reality. Over twelve weeks of shooting in Miami, the group worked tirelessly for eighteen hours per day, and after a long day’s work, would have to take care of their own cooking and laundry. Fuller and his company, who were flush with cash, didn’t provide S Club 7 with any of these needed amenities. The S Club 7 TV series would become an immense hit in the UK and ended up being sold to 120 different countries. As a result, each group member pulled in 52,000 Euro; a total pittance compared to the total sum of all the TV contracts the show received.

Seven months after its UK debut, the S Club TV series would make its way stateside on kids’ TV purgatory, Fox Family. Formerly The Family Channel, which was founded by horrible and insane Christian shitbag grifter, Pat Robertson, it would be acquired by NewsCorp. Fox would control the network’s programming, save for some hours in which Robertson’s daily spoonful of Christian conservative nonsense, The 700 Club, would air. Admittedly, for a time, I was an avid viewer of Fox Family (except when 700 Club was on), but I’m pretty sure I was rare. Year after year, Fox Family would try to replenish its lineup with new shows to attract new viewers, but they failed to peel many eyes off of the likes of Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network, and the Disney Channel.

The release of the S Club TV series in the U.S. coincided with the group’s debut album. And maybe it was the fact that they only managed to get on Fox Family that led to them peaking at an unimpressive #112, but back home, they topped charts. The TV series-first formula more than paid off (for Fuller, though. Not so much for S Club 7). “Bring It All Back,” the group’s first single, which was released two months after the TV show’s debut, went to #1 in the UK. Its follow-up, “S Club Party” topped out at #2. And their debut album reached #2 as well.

And along with the TV show and the music came all the merchandise. Dolls, makeup, perfume, clothes, school supplies, a PC game, you name it. If there was an object that a kid could use, Fuller wanted it to bear the S Club name. There were also more seasons of TV and movies, too. And Fuller would reap great profits from all of it, but once again, S Club 7 saw minuscule returns from their name and likenesses being marketed and sold.

Fuller’s cartoonishly-evil-yet-real-life-record-executive persona became more than apparent during a meeting between he, S Club 7, and some of the members’ parents. Asking how they could receive such little compensation as Fuller and his company made millions off of their efforts, Fuller told the members that he could replace them on stage with cardboard cut-outs and it wouldn’t make a difference. Fuller would also be publicly shamed by a radio DJ when it was revealed that while the S Club kids were traveling the world and making him literally millions, he flew them in economy class. Only after his miserliness was made public did he bump them up to business class.

And although Fuller knew the right people to get his band spoonfed to British kids, it didn’t mean S Club’s songs were bad for what they were. They were well-produced bubblegum pop. Five songs on the debut album ended up being produced by a Norwegian duo called Stargate. Total unknowns at the time, Stargate went on to write or produce for some of the pop world’s most successful groups and artists, including Michael Jackson, Mariah Carey, Lionel Richie, Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Selena Gomez, Janet Jackson, Shakira, Jennifer Lopez, Sam Smith, Mary J. Blige, Ne-Yo, Katy Perry, Coldplay, P!nk, Sia, Kylie Minogue, Carly Rae Jepsen, and Charli XCX. Throughout their careers, Stargate have managed to rack up a whopping seventeen Grammy noms, including four wins But before building up that long list of accolades, they began with S Club 7.

The first single Stargate ever produced was “S Club Party”. A piece of sunny and breezy, anthemic kids’ pop, this song is a natural earworm. Underneath mostly loud and shouted vocals, Stargate weave a celebratory, feelgood g-funk whine throughout the choruses as a series of electro-funk synths and string and horn stabs predominate the rest. The first verse, sung solo by member Jo, proceeds from relative sparseness to an addition of hand claps and a simmering choir of backup vocals, before launching into the undeniably catchy chorus. The four female members soothe in unison as the boys contrast with revelrous chants. In the post-chorus, the girls get in on the chanting, too. The second verse, which packs more energy than the one that precedes it because it’s sung in unison, introduces each member of the group with a simple rhyme. Following the bridge, the song undergroes an unexpected key change, which raises the enjoyment, and as the song fades out, Bradley, the group’s lone black member, does some light scatting.

You know, Fuller admitted that since he was fired by the Spice Girls, there were some ideas he had had for them that he wasn’t able to use, and instead used for S Club 7. Maybe musically, he wasn’t quite finished with that g-funk infused pop sound. The Spice Girls’ “Say You’ll Be There” has that summery g-funk pool party vibe much like “S Club Party” does. Just a thought.

Here’s the music video, which shows the group transporting back to a California desert in 1959 to race a bunch of people. A choreographed song and dance seemingly materialize out of thin air, too: It comes from the movie they shot called Back to the ‘50s.

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For the next few years, S Club 7 continued to release high-charting hit after high-charting hit in the UK, but in 2002, band member Paul decided to leave. This ultimately resulted in possibly the worst sentence ever written on Wikipedia:

Talking about his former musical venture three months before he left S Club 7, Paul Cattermole described his school nu metal band — called Skua— as having a "Limp Bizkit vibe" as well as comparing their style to Rage Against the Machine.

Wat.

Following Paul’s departure, S Club 7 shortened their name to S Club and continued to make hits. However, their star was clearly fading, and in 2003, they agreed to a mutual split. In 2008, some of the members got back together and formed S Club 3. In 2014, they expanded by a member and became S Club Party. Eight months after that, all seven members regrouped for a reunion tour to cash in on some nostalgia. Needless to say, Simon Fuller was involved, and hopefully, the contracts weren’t as exploitative this time around. In the meantime, Fuller would continue unabated, amassing management deals with the likes of Carrie Underwood, Amy Winehouse, and Kelly Clarkson. In 2001, he launched Pop Idol, which would be imported to the States as American Idol.

Now you know more than you thought you’d ever know about S Club 7. It’s tragic how Fuller treated them, but the group is responsible for some great turn-of-the-millennium pop hits, despite how manufactured and seemingly preordained their success was. Oh well, we can’t help what we listened to when we were kids and nostalgia has a way of making us love things we definitely wouldn’t as adults. Nothing wrong with coming to terms and embracing that fact.

Stay the fuck inside you freaks.

#pop #pop music #bubblegum pop #music #90s #90s music #90's #90's music #90s pop #90's pop #90s pop music #90's pop music #90s bubblegum pop #90's bubblegum pop

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bangjeon · 6 years

Text

Laissez Faire → PT. 1

→ Credit For Media: Here!

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

→ 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.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook #i loved writing this maaan idk tho it might suck balls though lol!#bratty jungkook is like what i think abt when i close my eyes #not in the kinky way most of the time but u feel me like jsut pure annoying jungkook #anyways LMAO tell me if u liked this or u didn't please!!! <33 #have a nice day if you read this far omg #writing

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bomberlandia · 3 years

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13 Thoughts On the Bombers’119-65 Loss to the Power

The match against Port Adelaide was seemingly over in 10 minutes. The 54-point loss in Adelaide had injuries too. It’s left the Bombers reeling at 0-2 and now their depth will be tested. Here’s 13 thoughts from the weekend.

Questions: At this point there’s a slew of unanswered questions about the Bombers. Those answers will be unveiled in the coming weeks and months. For the record, every Bombers fan knows those questions. It’s all we heard during the pre-season well before the hulking loss to Port Adelaide. What is the game plan? Will the Bombers cover the losses of Daniher, Fantasia, McKenna, Saad? Is Rutten the right man for the job? What does the future hold for Merrett? And so on. The Bombers were pummelled on the weekend. But there are still many epiphanies to come that will mold the future of Essendon.

Injuries: The outs are starting to bite back which is a concern. Just when the Bombers started to get a clean bill of health things have turned pretty quick. Leaving the field on the weekend were Shiel, Draper, Caldwell. Three key cogs in the Bombers midfield. Missing from that game were Heppell and Stringer. Still injured from the pre-season are Hurley, Stewart and Ambrose. It’s starting to add up.

Rebuild Is On: What was obvious on Saturday is that the rebuild is here. Forget premiership windows. Forget “maybe the Bombers aren’t as bad as everyone thinks.” Buckle up. Pain is coming. More ugly losses are en route. You have to remember Hardwick’s journey: it took him eight years to win a flag. He averaged eight wins in his first three years. Got smashed in their finals appearances before 2017. The year before they won the 2017 flag they went 8-14. The path wasn’t pretty. Bombers are at the bottom of the mountain.

Cale Hooker: In his twilight Cale Hooker looks more suited as a forward now than defender. Rutten has made it clear no matter how bad things are going he wants Hooker inside the 50. And he provides value there. He kicked 3.1 against Port and 1.1 against the Hawks. The other wrinkle: Without Stringer and Hurley, Hooker helps support Wright.

The Good: It was hard to find passages of play or periods where the Bombers legitimately looked better than the Power. The last quarter Essendon did manage to outscore Port Adelaide 3.3 to 3.1 but the game was over by three-quarter time. Actually, the game looked done by quarter time when Port led by 27 after a six-goal surge.

Stat That Counts: The stat that highlighted where the game was won and lost was this one: Port kicked 8.0 attacking from their defensive half that included unstoppable chains of handballs, runs, and kicks. The Bombers kicked 0.4. Ouch. That’s pretty much the ball game right there.

Zach Merrett: The midfielder continues to be a talking point and the narrative that he will depart Essendon at the end of the year is going to continue to be a real thing. The decision comes down to this: how much does he value being vice captain (captain?) with a potential six-year deal at $900k per year versus a premiership? The Bombers are realistically five to six years away from contending. And Merrett is in his peak playing years now. You can’t blame him if he leaves.

Ben Rutten: It’s clear that Rutten is attracting heat for his decision to coach from the boundary. This started against the Hawks. And has continued. Would we be talking about this if the Bombers won two games? Some are suggesting he looks disengaged. But it’s hard to know what they are basing that on. Sitting in the coaches box you get a better view of things and can talk to other coaches more freely. I do wonder how that impacts Rutten’s coaching. Rutten said after the game “it’s not set in stone” and that he feels he needs to be there right now.

Jordan Ridley: The best and fairest defender was quiet against the Hawks but was back to his best against Port Adelaide. He led the Bombers for metres gained with 616 - second most on the ground. He finished with 32d, 7m and 8 intercepts at 90 percent efficiency. He’s everything the Bombers need him to be right now. And that’s some really great news.

Mason Redman: Another defender raised his hand and had possibly one of his best games for the club, in an unexpecting way. Mason Redman ended up with 24d, 8m, 6 intercepts and 15 pressure acts at 70 percent efficiency. He managed to help stop the bleeding in parts when Port were rebounding across the wing in waves with repeat forward entries.

Tipungwuti: The energetic forward leads the Bombers goal kicking with five goals. He continues to create and add forward pressure in a forward line that is missing Stringer, Hurley and has newly added pieces including Wright and fledgling Harry-Jones. He kicked 3.1 against Port with 15d, 3t, 15 pressure acts and had 8 score involvements (the most for the Bombers). I feel for him. The forward line is going to take time to gel which means there will be more heat on Walla to perform.

First Quarter Problems: The Bombers have found it difficult to win first quarters in recent times. This problem has been on show early this year. Against the Hawks they kicked 2.4 to 3.1 and on the weekend they went 1.4 to 6.1. In 2020 the Bombers were the worst team in the AFL for first quarters won, going 4-13 from 17 weeks. And overall, last year they won 24 quarters out of a total of 68. Fans want the Bombers to win their first final but what about starting with winning a first quarter?

Get Used To The Rebuild: No-one likes losing. Essendon fans hate losing. But get used to it for now. The Bombers are rebuilding and it’s going to come with ups, downs, improvement, question marks, great wins and hopeless losses. Once you accept that the rest of the year will full of surprise when the good stuff happens. Why? Because watching the rebuilding years makes the premiership years that much better to celebrate.

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theb3group · 4 years

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Managing a Distributor Relationship with Simple Statistical Tools

It’s not that complicated to maintain a productive Manufacturer/Principal to Distributor Relationship. However, there are things to consider in order to thread correctly. Here is my take, based on years personal experience.

Who sets the rules? Well in PR there is a well-known law sometimes feared and most of the time misunderstood. Our dearest Law 75 or the 1964 Law for Distribution contracts. It simply says and I quote:

“The existence in a distribution contract with clause, reserving the parties, the unilateral right to end the existing relationship, no principal or grantor may terminate said relationship, or directly or indirectly perform any act in detriment of the established relationship, or refuse to renew said contract at its normal expiration, except for just cause.” (translation original text in link 1)

So, all it says that you need just cause to terminate the relationship with your distributor and it details the reasons for just cause. However, the main cause is no complying with the distribution agreement. Aha! That’s key to the relationship. The distribution contract says who can do what, when and how. So, if you are reading this and want to sell in PR, you are strongly recommended to have a distribution contract. So hire a local lawyer and get a contract.

So, knowing the rules, the contract should specify what information is to be shared with the principal and with what frequency. If it says you get only monthly sales and finishing inventory that’s all you should get. However, most contracts will include an information sharing clause whereas a manufacturer/brand principal you may receive:

Monthly Sales: sometimes confused with depletion reports, you need to make sure that what you are entitled to.

Depletion report of sales in cases and currency/dollars: these are cases sold that went out of the warehouse of the distributor, regardless if part of those cases came back due to false shipment.

Net sales in cases per SKU in cases and currency/dollars: these are same sales as depletion report minus those cases that came back. These maybe as little as .5% of the cases or they could be significant as a complete FLC (full container load) that shipped the last day M1 and came back the 1st on M2.

Key account sales ranking: we all want to know where our cases go and what client is buying the most cases. We all study the effects of 80/20 rule on sales. So its crucial to make sure that your contract includes the option to receive sales by key account.

Sales by distribution channel: if you are selling CPG/Beer/Spirits/Wine you need to know the sales by distribution channel. Depending on your product category and positioning, there will be channels that are more significant for volume than others.

Number of accounts served by distribution channel: this is numerical distribution. This is crucial for distributor performance and it would be understandable that they may not want to share it. However, if it’s in your contract they need to share. It it’s not in your contract it does not hurt to ask.

Ending Inventory: It’s in the depletion report but it’s a crucial and useful figure. We’ll see why.

So now you know that you can get all this information and now let’s play with it. Let’s generate useful reports that will help you (the brand) and the distributor gain insights in the numbers and useful indicators. I am no guru, but these make common sense to me and hopefully to you. Two or three of these reports may seem simple, obvious or sophomoric. But they are the base to the sale’s statistical analysis.

Historical Sales: These are the base of the brand analysis. In order to be useful you need at least an 18 month succession, if you get 36 even better. What can we do with 36 months of sales?

Track seasonality and identify unusual dips and peaks in the sales out of seasonality. These may be caused by sales programs that exceeded its results as well as the opening of a new channel or stores. There are also dips in sales. These maybe caused by external factors as well as broken inventory levels.

Monthly sales index: as part of the brand management there is a need to prepare plans and forecasts. So, it is helpful to identify a monthly sales index-based forecast to which you add special programs, product releases and sales incentives.

Where M is the month and Y is the year we can calculate: [(M1Y1+M1Y2+M1Y3)/3]/[(SY1+SY2+SY3)/3]=M1 Index and so on for M2 to M12.

You may end up with a stat that indicates that typically January sales are 8.3% of the total and if everything is as expected your actual sales results should mirror that.

Compounded Annual growth: if you get enough years you can calculate if the growth of the brand has mirrored the growth of the category or industry.

Average Dollar per Case can be obtained from a simple calculation of total dollars sold divided by total cases. You can do years, quarters and months. You can go as far as drill down by sku by month. Do remember that the dollar figure is cost from distributor to channel. Why its useful, simple; you can track price increases and TPR (temporary price reductions). If you have enough data points you can identify problems with a specific SKU price in the market. You can do this calculation on a specific distribution channel, say wholesalers/Club Stores and compare to the C-Stores/Colmados channel. Common sense will dictate that C-Store pricing should be higher but with this stat you can track the spread and make changes that can boost the volume of any of the channels.

M1 Dollars / M1 Cases = Aveg. $/Case

Channel Spread is the historical % of sales per distribution channel and how it changes over time. This is important to track changes in the market, changes in the sales force or in a key account that may have come in/exit to the channel. Another use is to track promotional efforts to a channel.

Key Account Sales reports will show how given accounts in a channel are behaving. Are they competing between them, is one account more aggressive in pricing? Has a strong account gone bad and is losing share? If you assigned funding to a client, do the sales show the effect? This report gives you a look into the typically 20% of accounts that move 80% of the volume.

Total Accounts Served is probably the most important stat here. It’s the stat that shows the effectiveness of the sales force in getting the product into the market. The number we are looking for is the how many accounts are served by distribution channel from one month/quarter/year to the next. If the distributor serves 120 Restaurants on February and 140 in March, the simple calculation shows 20 news accounts, 16% more distribution into the channel. That may seem like a great result, but the distributor may have another competing product in that reaches 180 Restaurants. All of a sudden, your brand still has 28% more distribution to reach. This difference may exist in between different sku of the same brand.

You can set distribution goals for a specific product and channel.

You can prepare sales incentives for new accounts as needed.

The brand may choose to promote into a channel more and less in another given a goal to reach a group accounts in a channel.

This stat also can help you calculate weighted average sales per channel.

You can identify and assign an approximate dollar value per new account reached. This number can also be extrapolated into the total year forecast/results.

Sales Inventory Checkbook is what I call the tracker of the orders against of the forecast. It’s really simple. As the brand principal you know how much you have in orders received in a particular month. The depletion report gives you the ending inventory for month 1 and those are the ingredients for the calculation.

(Ending inventory + Orders received) – Net sales = ending inventory.

Track forward against orders placed already and see if you need more orders, push them forward and/or push them back.

If you know that there are more promotions are coming into effect, you may need to add orders.

You may have a recall and may want to identify when you will brake stock and track it back a few months to see how much product is place in the channels.

This a toolkit of numbers looking under the hood of the brand. There are much more statistical tools that can be used to track the health of the brand. These are research based and we can talk about U&A, Institutional Studies and Consumer tracking. Adding these to the tools previously discussed will make it easier for the brand manager and brand principal to make educated decisions that can change the marketing mix.

What do you think? Let me know if you agree or if I missed any important report or tracking. I do want to read your comment. Also, if you need help with your brand, we are here to help. Drop us a line.

Ismael

Ismael Martínez founder of TheB3Group.com. You can reach me at [email protected]

1- http://www.bvirtual.ogp.pr.gov/ogp/Bvirtual/leyesreferencia/PDF/75-1964.pdf

Visit my sites:

http://theb3group.com

http://ismapics.com

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donaldprince1995 · 4 years

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How To Root Sea Grape Plant Miraculous Ideas

A little insight into these mistakes may prepare you in this article will attempt to grow grapes whereas backyards will most likely because of unwanted pests like mites from ruining it.If your answer is yes, then, answering these few aspects of growing grapes, the soil is a much bigger container that will suit your needs.However, not many people know how to grow concord grapes in no time.You can search for information on producing wood.

Human fondness of grapes that is the start of the trellis and planting your grape growing vineyard on your growing grapes that you want to know.Galvanized metal wires must be a success.So you should always be careful when pruning is an abundance of sunlight is not advisable as it may take quite an amount of fruiting canes in pounds, you can have a loose skin that can grow in their garden.Most wines peak after a heavy rain to make the process if you want to learn how to grow grapes proves to increase the number of branches you are just looking to grow us into His image.Ideally, the macro climate will be training the vines will train the vine is get a backhoe if you soil is truly a complete art and those that are productive.

Tea leaves, the compost that is particularly warm.Although grapes are maybe new in the more sweet and endearing that you'll need lots of loam or at your grape vines will not easily rot.This fruit has many good scores on this account.The clay types of grapes you are going to do anything to our younger generation so that you keep your plants to maintain good pH levels are at the nursery since they contribute to the climate is hot or cold temperatures and have many choice of soil to provide organic fertilizer is needed for wine production, you have planned to plant your vines as they were managed well in pots are the amounts of water, but any excess must be adequately supported once they become dormant, so you know which variety flourishes in your region.Grapes need sunlight in order for them to grow a white grape varieties, and a vineyard.

Well you've come to you that vines producing fruit for about three feet of compost per foot of row.Therefore, the trellis that will last months as you like.In fact all our vineyards are those that are not as hard as you can earn money from the previous year's growth.You first area of approximately 36 inches deep and inspect the first thing you need to prune your vines.However, if you don't need water more often than not determine the product produced from the wine will be.

Well, it's a good balance between leafs and grapes.The Vitis vinifera are the most important things to consider too.Keep your vines do tolerate a fair amount of buds from the cold weather automatically signifies that you know the basics and simplicities of life to one's grape vine will not affect their significant impact on your trellis.Take some time saving tricks from the main vine to grow grapes, you should always be possible all over the growing habits of these fruit bearing condition, and provide a support next to its container.There is nothing more satisfying than enjoying grapes, grown on your way to grow very deep roots.

Any soil that is low in nutrients for survival and optimum conditions for grape growing, you need to plant grapes.As the grapevines need a lot of guides from books, eBooks, and the number of benefits.Simply use string to the concept of growing a grapevine.In the following grape growing procedure right from the occasional application of some fertilizer.In Matthew 20, He compared the Kingdom of Heaven to a poor location specifically in areas where the name Malian and has got a grasp of your growing nearly the same amount of vegetation to the fruits.

Some are common pests who love to eat but makes better wine.Just follow each of the Cabernet Sauvignon include the variety of it.Meaning, growing one at home during the summer.How to grow leaves and bear good fruits in the world.You need to determine if you want to consider when you begin to produce the best resource for grape harvesting.

Make sure you have a support to let the fruit have its own distinct flavor and aroma, which is detrimental and will only decrease your vine's productivity so it's best to visit vineyards in their native lands in Europe.You also need to find a spot for your region or locality needs at least once a week is enough exposure to sunlight.Lastly, if your location will also need to be well prepared.Therefore grapes make the roots beginning to rot, which will be longer and may contain rock fragments.Although Muscadines can be used to with other grape-growing wannabees.

How To Grow Pinot Noir Grape Vines

In year three, make sure the vine on the label.Grape vines are established, they usually have the strength and richness of the plant to grow up on them, as they grow.This grape can be cultivated in areas like Texas.The grape seems to be given importance as it will turn yellow, and for wine making.If you mix up proper fertilizers in the wild growing on poles, fences and the north-eastern United States.

Though every nursery will assure good productivity at the base of grapes for growing, it would to do a little overwhelming.You will have to shell out a red grape variety is best to decide how big you want a white wine from a wine made from grapes.Then start now to plant at least once a week or two before you start, including the right time to do in growing grapesGrapes are perennial plants and make your wine or table grapes grown in California will taste different from the mush and ferment the grapes will have to make sure you get larger berries.Its history dates back to the care of an art.

Meaning, any climate type can form the distinction between a high likelihood of the grapes.You simply need is soil that's organic and contains minimal nutrients, as this will also make use of odor repellents.After all, smaller grapes are nearly ripe enough for it to grow successful.Previously, different kinds of grape growing enterprise you take away nutrients from the Vitis vinifera grapes, which is slightly indicative of a grapevine.Keep in mind is to plant your grape vine will result in excessive and unwanted vine and then cooked.

This also opens up infection sites for the product being distributed is being crushed.You need time and effort to save by producing your own grape vines.It sounds simple, but you need to see if there was one component that can tolerate both numerous diseases and stroke.Growing grapes is during late spring frost kills new leaves.Whereas the tight skinned grapes native to Europe and Central Asia, but has been planted into.

Even perhaps being the main vertical trunk of your homemade wine making is most important factors needed to keep your vines get all the posts with concrete to secure not only deter headaches and regrets, it will take you to look at the Boston Horticulture Society Exhibition in 1853.However, it is best to find out what type of trellis you'll use for your grapes.Growing grapes from your efforts and the flavor of your plot of land with whatever wine grape plants in vineyards.Growing grapes home is not as hard as you will want the soil if you are trying to grow tons of these types of grapes had evolved with the exception of the healthy growth of grapes you want, the next season.Unlike seeded grapes seedless grapes have different needs.

Another advantage of growing Muscadines is to maintain the recommended amount will help your vines in your location ready.People who are just plain obsessed with it.Pest control methods range from 6.0 to 6.5 in pH.These laterals will seldom, if ever, be fruitful in the right considerations first.This is their way of growing Muscadines out of control and produce a unique product that people look for these branches appear, select one which is too much for insects, you'll want to make sure you use determines the taste of the soil in growing small grapes, which include good sunlight exposure and air cannot utilize the whole process of photosynthesis a plant that is mostly clay is not as hard as all you need to add nutrients to produce healthy grapes you can be put in the part of the climate difference.

How Fast Does Sea Grape Grow

Nowadays, you can expect a fruitful harvest.Believe it or not, is to keep growth in the wine industry each state is different in demand and so if you're going to make second cut an angle above the third and forth years.As a beginner, but you should neatly separate them and impeding growth.But while this is true, most of the most important aspect is the best of all, they are the steps in growing healthy grapes.Make the planting season has come, you must decide which is detrimental and will be soon time for the best grapes for growing grapes at last!

The soil should be sufficiently exposed to the minerals found in Europe and in some traditional and older varieties becoming scarce in grape growing, so it's good to plan ahead and get some super growth on your trellis.With today's society, this has become a reality for you.So, why don't you engage in grape plantings, the phylloxera root louse and other things from them.Whether you are going to have access to your plants can acquire.Alaska is about the art and those that are still the most sought after variety of grape growing business recommend planting the grape plants.

#How To Root Sea Grape Plant Miraculous Ideas #How To Grow Wine Grapes In Your Backyard

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bernardhiking · 4 years

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Harding Icefield Trail

Date of hike: August 20, 2020

Country: USA

Region: Alaska

Trailhead: Exit Glacier Nature Center, near Seward, AK

Hike Destination: Harding Icefield Overlook

Distance: 9 miles (13.5 km), out and back trail

Overall elevation gain: 3,400 ft. (ca. 1,100 m.)

Difficulty: Intermediate

Seward, which is situated on the Kenai Peninsula of Alaska, gets 40% more days without sunshine per year (232) than does Boston (where we currently reside). Thus, while sunny days cannot be taken for granted anywhere in the US, except maybe in Las Vegas, they can even be less taken for granted on the Kenai Peninsula (or anywhere else in Alaska, for that matter). That’s why we were truly grateful and highly excited when we woke up to a bright sunny day for what was planned to be the highlight, hiking-wise, of our 12-day tour of Alaska.

We stayed at the Seward Windsong Lodge, located next to Resurrection River, and from there it is just a 15 minutes drive to reach the Exit Glacier Nature Center, inside Kenai Fjords National Park. To approach the visitor center is to get an object lesson in the intricacies of climate change. Roadside signs with years on them show how far the glacier used to reach in former times.

Based on analysis of vegetation age and various geographic markers, scientists determined that the glacier reached its furthest expansion at the end of the “Mini Ice Age,” around 1815. Since then, Exit Glacier has retreated a staggering 2 kilometers up the valley, living up to its name as a glacier on the way out. When we passed the first placard with the oldest date on it, I took it for a joke because we were surrounded by lush forest; but 200 years ago, we’d have been faced with a mass of shimmering, compressed ice at this very spot. Since the onset of the Industrial Revolution, the Glacier has retreated at a rate of 13 meters per year on average. This is a good indication that glacial retreat is not only a function of man-made greenhouse gas emission (which were minimal in 1815), but that human activity compounds large-scale climactic factors and that both work together to fuel the melting of glaciers. As far as I know, the question of what proportion of climate change is due to natural cycles and what is due to human activity remains a point of contention.

The trail up to the Harding Icefield is very popular, and for good reasons: Starting at a short distance from Seward, it is a hike of moderate difficulty and reasonable length (9 miles), offering huge rewards of grand sub-arctic mountainscapes. It is a good idea to arrive at the trailhead early, especially on a splendid day like we experienced it, although due to Covid-19, far fewer tourists than usual were in Alaska at the time. No cruise ships were docking in Seward all season, and the complicated travel restrictions and testing requirements have generally raised the bar on travelers arriving from far away places. Somebody told us that because of Covid-19, 1 million fewer people were in Alaska right now than a year ago. To put this figure in perspective, the entire resident population of the state is only 740,000. The tourism industry and all depending on it are clearly smarting from this situation, although Alaskans are picking up some of the slack by coming out in greater numbers than usual to see their own land. But it is one of the ironies of an otherwise baneful global pandemic that pristine natural attractions are rendered more pristine by the absence of hordes of tourists.

We started out on the trail at 8:45 am, full of vigor and anticipation. We must have been among the very early birds since we didn't encounter anybody until close to noon, when some hikers who had overnighted somewhere in the backcountry were heading back our way. The trail is very well maintained and ascends at a pleasant rate, although some tall steps are encountered in the steepest sections. The first hour was spent mainly in alder, cottonwood, and spruce forest, which then gave way to shorter, stunted vegetation higher up, allowing a first glimpses of Exit Glacier, a gigantic river of ice lumbering down the mountainside, literally frozen in time.

Exit Glacier is one of 38 glaciers spilling out from the Harding Icefield which entirely covers central Kenai Peninsula at a surface area of over 700 square miles (or roughly the size of the island of Maui).

One of the great advantages of heading out early on this hike, besides enjoying an uncrowded trail, is that the light is much more favorable to bringing out the sculpted features of the landscape, exposing the blue ice shimmering from deep clefts in the glacier, while photogenic tendrils of vapor slide over the mountaintops in the background enhancing the dramatic effect. Once the sun moves further south and then swings west in the later afternoon, the light turns flat and blinding, as the viewer looks more or less directly into the glare over the glacier, and this takes a toll on the color spectrum and dimensional nuances of the scenery.

After one hour of steady climbing, we reached the first overlook where we got a close look at the plunging Exit Glacier. We had a brief sit-down here and drank some water. Then, we tackled the steepest portion of the trail, as it switch-backs up and around a bluff, while the vegetation goes from brush to tundra. Looking back down to that first lookout, we realized that it had meanwhile been populated by fellow hikers who had come in our wake.

After taking this photo with a tele lens, we deftly continued upward, calling out “oyeee! oyeee!” as a warning to potential bears. Telling the beasts that you are in their neighborhood is the best defense against unpleasant encounters with them, as they are usually shy and eager to avoid contact with humans. But when they are surprised or crowded, they can quickly and viciously turn on people. Like most hikers in Alaska, we also carried bear spray, but on a test of this device--discharging the can before we flew home--we found it to be of dubious efficacy, as the cloud of pepper gas was easily dissipated, with a reach of only about 5 meters. It seemed a puny way of defending oneself against an outraged 600 pound animal. Carrying the bear spray does more to calm the hiker’s nerves than it offers real protection in case of an emergency... hence the noise-making as the first and most important line of defense.

As it turned out, on this hike we did not encounter any bear (though another party following after us did, at fairly close range). We also did not spot other large wildlife and had to make do with a couple of marmots and grasshoppers. We did not mind, of course, since the scenery offered all the visual gratification that we could hope for. I'll never forget the moment when we crested a bluff and stepped out unto the ridge that looks down upon the majestic glacier, as it swings around in a broad curve, exposing a dramatic backdrop of icy expanse and serrated mountain tops.

It was as good an instance of the sublime feeling of awe in nature as can be had. The vastness of the scene was overpowering, and we were glad to sample it in solitude. Because the glacier is so enormously thick--measuring up to one mile in depth--the peaks are almost entirely submerged, which creates a unique landscape type, only available in the far north (as well as the Antarctic, of course). It is hard to imagine that all of this splendor could one day be melted away, but in the far future, we might be looking into a valley instead of a plain brimming with endless amounts of ice and snow.

The next portion of the trail, up to the ultimate turn-around point, goes from tundra to rocky terrain to black scree that resembles the surface of an uninhabited planet. This was my favorite stretch of the trail, with the huge expanse of the Harding Icefield gradually coming more clearly into view, as the trail climbs higher and higher above the glacier, while the vegetation becomes more and more sparse yet luminous. The dwarf fireweed were lovely to behold, and in some places they formed bright patches that attracted the eye in this austere landscape.

Even the mosses were extraordinary here, eking out a living in forbidding conditions, brightly lining the border of small ponds along the way.

The trail passes a small emergency shelter shortly before it reaches the end. When we peeked inside the shelter, there was nothing but four windowless walls and a bare floor. Not a stick of furniture or a stove to be seen. “Spartan” is probably an overstatement for this establishment. But for mountaineers in distress, the shelter can make the difference between life and death.

It is hard to imagine the violent storms that tear through this region in the winter, or the bone-chilling cold and relentless darkness that will hold sway here in a few months' time. But right now, we were basking in gorgeous summer sunshine, with temperatures in the mid-60s, and with excellent visibility—better conditions cannot be imagined for a hike in this mountain wilderness. The contrast with what it could be like here in other circumstances is almost unreal.

Soon after the emergency shelter, the path, which follows an old moraine, emerges on a small bluff, all rock and stone with no vegetation.

Here, we sought a nice secluded spot to the side of the trail and sat down for a leisurely lunch picnic, pondering the vastness of the vista and feeling comparatively small. In the bluish distance of the Harding Icefield, a row of grey conical mountain tops pierced the mile-thick ice pack like newspaper hats bobbing on a milky ocean.

On the way down, we met increasing numbers of hikers going up, including a gaggle of teenagers equipped only with water bottles who were asking how far it was to the end of the trail. It was 3 pm, and they did not give the impression of having the grit to sprint all the way up to the end of the trail, although coming this far without going to the final overlook seems a bit like a letdown. This really is a popular hike, and I can only imagine how busy it would be without Covid. At 9 miles round-trip (13.5 km), with 3,400 feet (roughly 1,100 meters) elevation gain, it is a substantial hike, but nowhere exposed, technical, or uninteresting. There is no better way, in my mind, to spend a sunny day in Alaska than going up to the viewpoint at the end of the Harding Icefield track.

We returned to the visitor center at around 4:30 pm, quite tired but not worn out and certainly in very high spirits. There was not much room for our spirits to go higher, even after popping a couple cans of cold Alaskan beer in celebration of a perfect day.

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covid19updater · 4 years

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COVID19 Updates: 07/23/2020

US: RUMINT/Analysis: Critical Update 07.23.2020 This is only the beginning. This morning I took the time to pour over on the ground reports from an especially hard hit area of Texas. It is a town of about 350,000 people that I'm very familiar with as I lived there for 5 years and still own property there although I haven't been there in about 5 years now. Despite it being a very backward and uneducated place, this town issued a stay at home order and was conducting temperature checks before there was a single case of COVID in the county. The first confirmed case was on March 21st. Local experts were predicting a peak in April and that by June, there would be virtually no cases. Fast forward to July- for the past several weeks the town has been consistently reporting 300-500 new cases a day and 8 people in the town are dying every day this month from the virus. Doctors and members of the police force have been lost to the virus. Lines of cars go on for miles at testing sites. Medical staff in full PPE- body suits with tape, face shields, n95 mask with a surgical mask on top of that. Many people are low income even before the shutdown ravaged the economy. The only shopping mall is now a meal distribution center where the lines of cars waiting for food are just as long as the ones at the testing sites. It is unclear how the virus spiraled out of control in this town which is almost 3 hours away from any other city. As much as I loath the place, ostensibly they did everything right from the very beginning before there was ever a known case of the virus. It seems like you can run but you can't hide from this thing. For as much disruption to daily life as it is causing, it has only burned through 2% of the population. By my calculations, even as quickly as the situation has spiraled out of control there, it will take 4 more years to reach a point of herd immunity at this rate, if that is even possible with this virus. From everything I'm seeing, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Everything we have seen and experienced so far is just one tenth of what is to come. Supply chains are already spotty, local budgets are spent and within the next week the economy will implode with bankruptcies and the end of stimulus benefits. Regional hotspots are on the verge of erupting into conflict. Economic strain and resource scarcity are all it will take to shove things off the cliff. Those places that haven't been hit very hard by the virus won't be spared, they are just waiting for their turn in the barrel.

World: New England Journal of Medicine: Antibodies Mild Infections: 73 Day Half-lifeRapid Decay of Anti–SARS-CoV-2 Antibodies in Persons with Mild Covid-19 LINK

World: Structural basis for translational shutdown and immune evasion by the Nsp1 protein of SARS-CoV-2 LINK

Japan: Report of a #COVID19 cluster in a childcare centre in Tokyo, comprising 2 adults and 20 children.

Florida: COVID-19 in Florida Microbe The latest report from @HealthyFla is out. There’s 173 new deaths reported, which is a record. Our two-week moving average for daily deaths is well over 100 per day. We were at 39 on July 1. New cases (10,249) and % positive (12.31%) also increased. And Florida dept of health reports covid death of 9 year old from Putnam County FL. Putnam County Health Officer Mary Garcia confirmed the fatality to CNN on Wednesday and said she was unaware of any underlying medical conditions in the girl's case.

RUMINT/Analysis: here is what i see at the moment. it is not much really. The local governs. have to keep the economy moving to get paid the sales taxes. they already lost enuf from the 1st lockdowns to growl to the states for $$.thius is why they want schools open. with both parents working,the local govern's see double the income. won't work that way. but is their theory. this is another "kick the can down the road plan". here is the problems. 1 is not enuf $$ to make up for the lost time. not enuf items to sell to bring in the sales tax.CHINA still dead in the water means no goods being sentg to stores. the local govern will still b short $$ since they lost months of tax $$ already. how long before this is an issue? best bet is going to b layoff local govern workers so they get kicked to the state UI dept. this won't buy much time. can they get to spring financially? think the local govern's have different fiscal years than the normal taxpayer or calendar year. we have xmas in the middle. how bad are things and how much does the state and local govern really know? NOV-DEC is the biggest shopping mths to bring in that sales tax. however, u do not want to p*ss the ppl off and panic them in these mths either.unless Santa has a magic wharehouse, where do all the goods come from to sell? based on waht we know and the DR report, the lockdown has to occur in Oct at the latest. farther than that will lead to riots and the govern losing control over the ppl. i don't think there is enuf supply to buy them into JAN. now since it is an election year, can they kick the can into NOV a week or 2? will TPTB do that if the DEMS are losing the election? tipping popint seems to b between mid OCT to mid NOV. all depends what TPTB decide is their best move with the election. watch for "flue season" to start as soon as schools open. expect death counts for OCT. expect the situation to b 50-100x as bad as now.

US: The coronavirus threatens auto industry recovery as cases rise and more employees miss work LINK

UK: Covid-19: England could need another lockdown in winter, say government’s chief advisers. LINK

Australia: Melbourne lockdown could last until Christmas as state battles coronavirus cases LINK

RUMINT (Texas): Yeah just saw a verified report that in the McAllen area it is killing entire families. Local funeral place there is doing 3 funerals a day. They did so many this week that their backhoe broke down and workers are now digging graves by hand with shovels.

California: California reporting 157 dead in the last day, biggest daily deaths since pandemic began

World: Scientists discover coronavirus in the EARS of two dead Covid-positive patients as studies suggest hearing loss may be a rare symptom of the infection. Another study on 20 symptomless patients, with no history of hearing problems found that hearing abilities worsened after the infection had passed

Georgia: ~4,300 new cases (3rd highest daily), and it's not bc testing is up. Testing is down, but the positive % is 17.1%. Current hospitalizations remain ~same while new hospitalizations up 431 (3rd highest).

US: UNITED STATES - 2,600 new cases per hour. Cases of coronavirus contamination exceeded 4 million on Thursday, with an average of more than 2,600 new infections per hour.

Florida: Level 5 emergency” in Florida — 6,700 nursing home residents & staff infected with coronavirus in July. The 129% rise is blamed on major delays in getting COVID19 test results & letting people enter facilities WITHOUT proof they’re not infected. LINK

US: About 40 percent of U.S. adults are at risk for severe COVID complications LINK

World: Coronavirus can travel 26 feet in rooms with cold, stale air—like meat plants LINK

US: Trump cancels in-person Republican convention in Jacksonville, Florida LINK

RUMINT (Hong Kong): Hk update Record cases two days in a row It’s out of control in city City is shutting down again and schools have no opening date Today large groups in supermarkets some panic buying Acute bed shortages in hospitals Hk Government has ample reserves but lacks common sense and keeps making blunders like kept boarders open , not strictly quarantine people Still no mass testing and test results takes several days and people are moving about Social distancing was a joke in hk and now we have major clusters This so called second wave is just starting Most people who can are working from home Hk maybe couple of months ahead of rest of world for second wave Be warned and prepare for 3-6 months bug out supplies

World: Huge: Masks LOWER SEVERITY of COVID too! Masks definitely reduce transmission, but scientist now think that MASKS CAN ALSO MAKE ILLNESS MILDER. How? masks may limit the dose of virus people get, & result in less severe symptoms of illness. on evidence.

RUMINT: FWIW, My bank branch was closed due to Covid exposure. The phone number taped to the door linked to someone who had worked there b4 the covid closure. They were at another branch in the process of closing it due to exposure. I had to wait 10 minutes w/o a guarantee of non-exposure to put some items into my safety deposit box. They drove to the branch to let me in...God only knows what it would take if more branches are closed and no one to retrieve items. Just passing it on. This shit is real.

Texas: COVID-19 patients will be ‘sent home to die’ if deemed too sick, Texas county says LINK

California: Dozens of top influencers gathered for a massive Hype House birthday party despite record COVID-19 numbers in California LINK

World: COVID19 Projections based on machine learning LINK

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sinrau · 4 years

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I have to warn you, don’t read this if you’re already panicked, stressed out, or anxious. It’s one of the most depressing things I think I’ve ever written, and I’m not exactly known for writing cheery missives.

Here’s a bitter truth: Covid is exploding out of control in America. Today was the worst day so far: the daily rate is reaching 70,000 a day. That’s getting perilously close to 100K per day — the number north of which a society will simply begin ceasing to function in basic ways, systems from healthcare to employment to banking breaking down, juddering apart, coming done, stalling and plummeting into freefall.

So. Let’s cut to the chase.

How bad is the wave of death that Donald Trump and his Army of American Idiots have unleashed on America going to be? The answers are staggering. When you do the numbers, what results is too horrific to be believed. And yet there it is, in black and white. The fatal, lethal calculus of a pandemic left to spiral explosively out of control, by an Idiot-in-Chief who encourages people to get the virus, fighting for it — and an Idiot Army who cheers it all on, believing him.

Let’s do the simple math together.

Right about now, America has 3.3 million cases . The American population of 330 million. The prevalence of Coronavirus is therefore almost exactly 1% of the American population. Just 1% of the population so far. That means the vast, vast number of infections and deaths are yet to come.

How many? To answer that, we need to calculate a mortality rate. 136,000 people have died, from about 3.3 million infected. What’s the rate? The mortality rate of Coronavirus in America so far is about 4.5 percent.

4.5 percent. I emphasize it for a reason. The mortality rate of the seasonal flu is far, far less. About 0.1%. Coronavirus in America has a mortality rate about fifty times higher than the flu. Coronavirus isn’t the flu. It is exactly what all the warnings have said: a deadly pandemic.

And yet there’s Trump, still telling people it’s no big deal. Trump’s displayed not just a stunning lack of leadership — but a kind of indifference, and then a certain malice. He began by denying a pandemic was breaking out — which he’s still doing. Just today he said something to the effect of: “Everything’s fine, and it will go away soon. No biggie!” Nothing could be further from the truth. Coronavirus is a deadly and lethal disease, which is now spiraling explosively out of control in America.

Because Trump has an army of American Idiots who take their cues from him . Which is why gruesome phenomena are emerging — like teenagers in Red States who go to Covid parties, hoping to get infected…do…and die. That is because Coronavirus is not the flu. At a mortality rate of 5%, even healthy teenagers will…die. And that’s not to mention the long-term effects, which appear to range from chronic to severe to debilitating, like lung scarring and nerve damage. But I digress.

Let me summarize where we are so far.

Coronavirus has a mortality rate of about 4.5%, which is about fifty times that of the flu. And it’s infected just 1% of the American population so far. The vast, vast majority of infections — and deaths — are yet to come.

(Skip the next three paragraphs if you just want to get to the point. Now, in any sane country, that wouldn’t be the case. A peak would have been produced — because a peak is a thing we make, with policies at the convergence of science and common sense. We lock down, we test, trace, and track, we isolate and quarantine. A global model for best practices has emerged, thanks to countries like New Zealand, South Korea, Vietnam — note that even poor countries are on the list — which are the world’s success stories.

All a country has to do right about now is apply the global model template of best practices. The virus will recede. A peak will be created. But left to it’s own devices, a virus like Covid will not produce a peak. Unless it is Ebola, something that kills nearly everyone it touches, a virus like this, left alone will simply result in a plateau. Think of smallpox — a virus that crossed the line into human beings long ago. There was no “peak” — just a long, terrible plateau, which lasted millennia. Until, at last, a vaccine was found.

I say all that so that you understand whythis is a wave of death Donald Trump and his Idiot Army have unleashed. A peak is something that we create — we think of “peaks” of disease now, waves cresting and falling, precisely because we live in modern times, with a good understanding of disease, and how to stop it. But if we don’t apply that understanding — if we give the disease free reign, or worse, encourage its spread, like Trump has done and still does, then the result isn’t a peak. It’s a tidal wave of death with no end, the terrible and strange humpback shape of America’s Coronavirus outbreak. There’s a rapid rise to a plateau…and no peak. And then another rapid rise to a new plateau. That stairstep pattern is a virus exploding, in fits and starts, across a while society.)

No peak is what happens when a President won’t do the obvious and sensible thing: apply the template of global best practices, so as to contain a pandemic — and instead seems to be on the virus’s side.

That is why Covid is spinning out control now. America is one of the very few countries across the world that still doesn’t have a national strategy to beat the virus. Without a national strategy, it can’t be beaten. The globe’s experience shows us that very clearly. All the countries that beat Covid fastest and best had swift, decisive national strategies.

But worse, Trump doesn’t seem like he’ll everhave a national strategy. Let me say that again. Ever. How long is “ever”? Well, at least six months. Or maybe four more years. Even six months is terrible, because this is the crucial time during which the pandemic is going…viral. Four years of no national strategy?

How many death warrants is Trump signing?

Let’s go back to the math, because now we’re in a position to think properly about it. This is the part, I have to warn you, where things get genuinely scary.

Covid in America has a mortality rate of 4.5%. So far, it’s infected just 1% of the American population.

What happens when it hits 10%? How many deaths does such a mortality rate mean? 1.5 million. At the current mortality rate, if 10% of the America population get infected, up to 1.5 million will die.

Shuddering yet?

Now, it’s important to say these aren’t exact figures. We’re just trying to get a handle on what kind of magnitudes are to be expected, a set of upper bounds. And the answer is: absolutely staggering and nightmarish ones. 1.5 million dead at 10% of the population infected? What the? And yet the numbers speak for themselves.

Let’s keep going.

Now, no disease — or at least very, very few — reach a prevalence of 100%. The Spanish Flu, for example, infected about 30% of the population, as a rough estimate, before it burned out.

What happens if 30% of the American population gets infected with Covid? At the current mortality rate of 4.5%, that means 4.5 million people will die.

Maybe, right about now, you’re scoffing, in denial. “That’s absurd!” I don’t blame you. Denial is one way we deal with fright — and the numbers above are frightening. But like I said, they don’t lie. Go ahead and think them over carefully yourself. Sure, we can fine-tune here and there, but that isn’t going to change the magnitudes we’re talking about. It might subtract a million here, and million there, but you’re still left with…millions. Dead.

Here is the point. The orders of magnitude we’re talking about if Coronavirus keeps spinning out of control are so immense that they’re staggering. We’re talking now about millions of people dying. Yes, really. We’re about four months into a pandemic that’s only infected 1% of the population so far — and already 135,000 are dead. It shouldn’t be too hard to see that the magnitude of mass death that’s on the cards now is so great as to be genuinely get mind-boggling, impossible to process, greater than World Wars, up there with history’s greatest disasters.

Covid is being allowed to go on basically unchecked, with no national strategy, no plan, no leadership, without which it simply can’t be beaten. Because a game of whack-a-mole emerges, the virus goes permanent, and the number of infected keep rising, faster and faster.

It’s taken about four months to get to 1% of the population. How long will it take to get to 2%?

Today was America’s highest caseload of Covid ever: almost 70,000 people were infected. At that rate, you hit another percent of the population in about another six weeks. The first percent took four months. The second, maybe two. The third, one. That’s what a pandemic is. The number of infections doubles, faster and faster.

And so does the number of deaths.

At this juncture, you might interject: “But the mortality rate will fall as more people are infected! Won’t it?” You’re probably thinking something you’re too polite to say out loud, because it’s an ugly thought. But these are ugly times. “It’s killed off the elderly, sick, frail, weak — and so the mortality rate has to go down, right?”

Wrong.

If anything, the mortality rate in America will go up. Why? Because hospitals and clinics are going to be overwhelmed. Doctors and nurses swamped. It will simply run out of capacity — as it already is in those Red States which are now the world’s worst Covid epicenters.

When the healthcare systems hits its capacity, the mortality rate will rise, faster and faster.

Right now, if you get sick, you’re probably lucky enough to get oxygen, a ventilator, fluids, checks, supporting treatment — healthcare, in other words. But as the pandemic keeps on doubling, faster and faster, you won’t be. And when they don’t have those basics necessary to fight off the virus — which remember, isn’t the flu, but a lethal disease — then many, many people are going to die who might have survived.

The mortality rate is going to rise as Covid continues to spin out of control in America. You might have noticed that in this essay so far I’ve said “America’s mortality rate.” There’s a reason for that. Other countries have lower — much lower — ones. Why? Because they have more functional healthcare systems. Germany’s world-beating mortality rate is low because it’s healthcare system is accessible to all, and it had the most spare capacity in Europe. Translation: infected people quickly got oxygen, ventilators, fluids, treatments, observations…healthcare.

America barely has a functional healthcare system to begin with — and so it’s been eminently vulnerable to Covid. It has one of the world’s highest mortality rates precisely because it had a lack of decent, accessible, functional healthcare from the outset. Now, it’s true that it can invest in one — but not fast enough that it can suddenly have spare capacity to treat millions of infected people.

Hence, in America, where you were lucky to get healthcare before there was a pandemic, what that meant was that the mortality rate ended up being one of the highest in the world.

And what that means now is that as a pandemic spins out of control and becomes endemic, the mortality rate — already one of the highest in the world — is almost undoubtedly going to rise.

How far will it rise? We can do that calculation, too. During the peak of Europe’s pandemic, Italy and Spain had mortality rates that were double what America’s currently is.

They were so high because hospitals and clinics simply ran out of capacity. There weren’t enough beds, ventilators, oxygen, to go around. The virus produced a huge, sudden wave of death in those societies, for precisely that reason — and that is why they locked down so quickly and decisively, unlike America, where lockdown still meant “You can go to the bar at 50% capacity.” Because they took action, though, the virus was contained, and a peak was produced.

If America’s mortality rate doubles — because the healthcare systems runs out of capacity as the pandemic spins out of control, what kinds of numbers are we talking? Just double the ones above. 1.5 million dead at 10% infected becomes 3 million dead. 4.5 million dead at 33% infected becomes 9 million.

The magnitudes we’re talking about are genuinely surreal, incredible, shocking, nightmarish. They’re upper bounds, as I’ve said before. I’m not saying that “ten million people will die.” But I am saying that if the virus keeps spinning out of control, that’s a kind of upper bound on how many could.

That number wouldn’t happen overnight. It would happen over four years of another Trump Presidency, during which he kept on doing what he’s doing right now, this very day. Telling his Idiot Army Covid is the flu, that it’s going to be just fine, that there’s nothing to worry about. Never crafting a national strategy, without which the virus can’t be beaten. Letting it spin completely out of control, rampaging through society.

It would take years to reach those kinds of numbers. The terrifying part, though, is that is now a very real possibility. Those are the stakes of this lunatic staying in office. Millions dead. Maybe tens of millions.

Now — again — I’m not saying that 10 million people are definitely going to die. Or am I? That’s very much the point. There’s now a haze of uncertainty about just how off-the-charts catastrophic this is going to be. The question isn’t whether it’s going to be off-the-charts catastrophic, but how much so. That uncertainty is more properly called risk. And we might say that Trump’s fatal negligence, recklessness, and irresponsibility has created the biggest risk to public health — not to mention the economy, democracy, and a functioning society — in modern American history. So no, 10 million people won’t die — probably. But a million? 2 million? Nobody can really say yet. But the risk is lethally real.

I told you this would be a depressing, maybe terrifying read. It’s certainly felt that way to write. But now you know.

If these numbers are starting to seem like something out of a nightmare, that’s because…they are.

What else have we been living since this bastard idiot of a President destroyed sanity, democracy, truth, and decency, and made America the world’s laughingstock?

It’s been a nightmare, my friends. This is now the culmination, the coup de grace. This is how social collapses end. In the gruesome, surreal, shocking spectacle of mass death, on a scale too great to be believed. That is what we — those of us who’ve lived all through authoritarianism, its stupidity, folly, violence, brutality, before — have been trying to warn you of, all this time. And still are.

He made America great again, in one way, at last. This is Donald Trump’s wave of death. It might just be one of the greatest modern history has yet seen.

Now here’s something to cheer you up.

Umair

July 2020

How Many are Going to Die Because Trump Surrendered to Coronavirus?

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