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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medical play, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, multiple orgasms, fingering, dirty talk, bondage, ruined orgasm, unprotected sex, squirting, oral (m receiving), cum eating (not yoongi for once), this was meant to be a light palate cleanser after the intensity of day ten but i got lost in my feelings in the first half and then got horny over doctor jeon in the second half i apologise

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY ELEVEN

“I think you should be a little more concerned, PD.”

Sejin flattens the two men - oldest and youngest of the house - an unimpressed look. Jungkook tries not to wilt under his gaze. “And why is that?”

Jin clears his throat, staring right back unabashedly. “Tae’s been involved in a terrible accident and you’re just waiting here. You should be rushing over to the house to save him.”

“A terrible accident?” Sejin questions monotonously, before turning in his chair to angle his monitor so that both boys can see. On the screen is a freeze frame of a very familiar scene - Taehyung crouching on the bottom of the stairs, Jin and Jungkook huddled around him.

Ah, Jungkook realises with sinking disappointment, the cameras. Once the producer clicks play on the recording, Jungkook is faced with the HD version of himself gesture excitedly, patting Taehyung on the back and pointing to the banisters.

Cheeks flushing, the youngest member of the house watches in dread as Sejin plays back the evidence of Taehyung willingly forcing his head through two banisters, ears popping out the other side as he glances up with a beam at Jin.

Having seen enough, Sejin pauses the video, and switches back to the realtime feed. “An accident, was it?” Sejin repeats rhetorically as the Taehyung on the security camera drums his fingers lazily against the wood posts, letting out a lionlike yawn. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue. This wasn’t how things were meant to go at all. Behind Sejin’s desk, the majority of the production van is filled with all the mess of a regular office. Stacks of paper, scribbled sticky notes on various surfaces, a large whiteboard with roughly handwritten schedules and a small game of naughts and crosses in the bottom right corner. Jungkook tries not to let his eyes dwell on the whiteboard too long. Don’t raise anymore suspicion.

Beside him, Jin shamelessly shrugs with a smile. “He put his head through the bars on purpose, sure, but he got stuck on accident.” The oldest - though still younger than Sejin himself - emphasises this distinction with a single outstretched finger and an arch of his eyebrows. “So you should go help him.”

Sejin slips his glasses off and lets them clatter to the table, pinching his brow with two fingers. “Am I gonna get there and have Taehyung ask me for the latest issue of Chinese Vogue?”

Jin stiffens, his mask temporarily shattered. “I requested that in confidence.”

The production manager throws his hands in the air in defeat. “How was I supposed to know which of your bogus requests was confidential? Just half an hour ago I got a call from my superior asking why #getjinanXL was trending. You tweeted that you wanted me to buy you extra large condoms because you ‘ran out.’”

“Well, that was obviously a joke,” Jin rebuffs easily. “You know I use Magnum.”

“How would I-?” With a huff of desperation, Sejin shakes his head to clear his mind. “No, okay, back to…”

Zoning out, Jungkook’s eyes are caught by the sight on the screen as another figure walks out into the foyer. Yoongi rushes forward once he sees Taehyung, crouching on the other side of the bars as he delicately prods around Taehyung’s face and neck. The younger man waves him away in frustration, pushing at Yoongi’s chest until he gives up and leaves reluctantly. Jungkook bites his lip and looks away.

Whoops. Staring right at him are the producer and the therapist, each as expectant as the other. “Huh?”

Sejin huffs. “Why would Taehyung intentionally stick his head through the bars of a staircase banister?”

“Tell him, Jungkookie,” Jin adds with a bump of his shoulder.

“Uh…” With a hard swallow, Jungkook’s mind whirls. “He… We were… measuring,” he finishes awkwardly. “Me-measuring Tae’s head.”

“You were measuring Taehyung’s head?” Sejin repeats flatly. “With the stair banister?”

Jungkook shrugs with what he hopes is a ‘what can you do?’ expression, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find a ruler.”

Sejin blinks once. “Then how would you know how wide the gap between posts was? Without a ruler?”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares in barely subdued panic at Jin, who widens his eyes meaningfully, urging him to turn back to the awaiting producer. “We, um, we didn’t think that far. We’ll know for next time?”

“If you want to stay on this show, there will be no next time,” Sejin warns.

Jungkook ducks his head in shame. “Sorry, dad.”

“Y- what?” Jungkook hears Sejin cough lightly, flustered. “Please, Jungkook, that’s not appropriate.”

The youngest gives a little bow. “I apologise, Father.”

Sejin clicks his tongue. “Okay, that’s even worse.”

Jungkook glances up, brows knitting and head tilting in confusion. “...whoopsies, daddy?”

Sejin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the hairline. Jungkook spots several grey strands.

Clearing his throat, Jin steps forward slightly. “Taehyung is still stuck, PD.”

“Okay, fine! Fine,” Sejin announces, pushing his chair away from the desk and standing up. “But if there is a single other incident like this, I’m calling in child protective services and getting them to baby-proof this place. No more funny business. Understood?”

“No more. Promise,” Jungkook assures sweetly, heart soaring as Sejin slips past them, hurrying out of the production van and towards the front door of the villa.

The moment he’s well out of earshot, Jin claps his hands once with a victorious grin. “It was a bit touch-and-go there,” he admits, “but that’s bought us time. Quick; get the whiteboard, I’ll grab some pens.”

Jungkook grins. Like secret agents, hyung and him were. Moving quickly, the two of them manage to sneak out the whiteboard from the van, trundling it noisily across the gravel, around the back of the house.

---

“I’ll be honest,” Jimin drawls, “I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just chatted about this. Is the whiteboard really necessary?”

Taehyung deflates immediately, one hand still rubbing at the red marks on his jaw and ears. “What do you mean? I suffered for this whiteboard, Minnie.”

It’s crowded; five people huddled inside the confessional booth. But apart from the bathrooms and the rec room, this was the only place without live security cameras - purely because the only camera needed was the one for the confessionals themselves - and Jin and Jungkook doubted they’d be able to smuggle a very noisy whiteboard into the rec room when Sejin was directly outside it lubing up Taehyung’s neck with aloe vera gel.

While Producer Shin had been lured away by Jin with the promise of a homecooked meal, the four youngest men in the house were bundled into the garden shed, staring at a whiteboard that had barely fit through the door.

Jimin, still unconvinced, shrugs. From his spot perched delicately on Namjoon’s lap he watches the two younger men take a picture of what’s written on the whiteboard, then rub it all out. The man of the hour, Namjoon had been given the right to sit on the only proper chair in the room, the one the producer would normally sit in. Beside it, the wooden stool sits unoccupied. Jimin told the others that he was sitting on Namjoon’s lap because the stool was too uncomfortable, but Jungkook thinks there’s something deeper in the way he relaxes onto Namjoon’s chest, the academic alert but not tense underneath him.

Or perhaps being on this show has made Jungkook more suspicious.

“The whiteboard was vital, hyung,” he defends adamantly, grabbing one of the pens Jin-hyung had handed him, yanking off the cap with a satisfying click. Immediately the alcoholic smell of ink tingles his nostrils, but he ignores it, turning to the others. “What if Namjoon-hyung was a visual learner?”

From behind Jimin’s back, Namjoon adjusts the bridge of his glasses. “I- actually I learn best through listening.” His hand drops, hovers over the space both him and Jimin share, then rests awkwardly on the armchair. “But I appreciate the thought.”

Namjoon-hyung is so cute. “It’s okay,” Jungkook assures, suppressing the endeared grin that tugs at his lips, “We can brainstorm out loud, and Tae and I will just take notes.”

With Taehyung in his Sunday best (well, a button-up shirt so baggy it looked like he hat batwing sleeves) and Jungkook having dug out his glasses to look extra smart, the two of them were prepared to make this as academic as possible for Namjoon. Even after getting laid for the first time, academics were his comfort zone, and the two youngest were happy to oblige.

“First things first; what was it you had to do? Honeymoon?”

Jimin leans back on Namjoon’s shoulder so the taller man can see past. Namjoon shakes his head lightly, his purple hair in serious need of a touch-up; the natural brunette frames his face now, emphasising his brow. Jungkook wonders if he’d let him dye it a new colour, just for something fresh.

“Just husband and wife,” the academic corrects, “It didn’t specify, uh, anything else.” His voice is still quiet, as if speaking on it is taboo. One day he’ll get used to discussing sex openly, but until then, the others will meet him halfway.

“Okay, so, Y/n is your wife,” Jungkook states with a nod, “do y’all have kids? Is it a newlyweds situation? We need backstory here.”

The squeaking of a pen catches Jungkook’s attention before he even finishes speaking. To his right, Taehyung writes in sharp strokes across the board.

Y/N PREGNANT

“It’s the nineteen thirties,” Taehyung announces in a smooth voice, eyes finding each member in the room, “war is imminent, and worldwide men are preparing to be conscripted. Every moment spent with their loved ones is precious, and for General Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung pauses to draw a gangly stick figure giving a salute, “him and his wife Y/n-” this time a female stick figure joins the scene, a cartoonishly round stomach off to one side, “-have only one goal. To knock Y/n up before he goes to battle, so that even if he never returns they ha-”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed. “Isn’t this too dark? Too elaborate? They’re fucking, not going for best screenplay at the Oscars.”

Taehyung deflates a second time, the hand holding the pen dropping limply to his side. “You don’t like it?”

Face stricken, Jimin waves his hands frantically. “No, no, I love it! Honestly! I just- I feel like Namjoon probably wants something a little simpler? Perhaps not so bleak?” The blue-haired man swivels around on Namjoon’s lap, his hand resting inconspicuously on the back of his neck, playing with the longer hairs there.

Namjoon swallows. “Uh, yeah, simple is probably good. Honestly, I feel a little unsure about all of this. What if I, I don’t know, drop character or get shy? Won’t it be awkward?”

Taehyung scratches at his chin as he thinks, the beginnings of beard scruff shadowing his jaw. “If we help you brainstorm, you can just memorise a basic script.”

“I guess so,” Namjoon muses, eyes fluttering unconsciously as Jimin continues to trace the nape of his neck with his fingertips. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I know you have your own scenes to worry about.”

Jungkook shrugs. “Two birds with one stone, we can help each other. You know; I suck your dick, you suck mine.”

“That isn’t the quote,” Namjoon protests automatically, “but- I get your point. Anyone have any advice on how I even go about this?”

Taehyung pouts. “You’re the smart one,” he points out, “I did try to help but clearly my services weren’t appreciated.”

“Oh, honey,” Jimin coos, “I always appreciate your services.” The double entendre is clear in the silk of his voice and the arch of his brows, sent with a sweet smile, and Taehyung flushes in response.

Jungkook winces, ignoring the spike of - of something green and ugly in his chest. “Okay, enough from the lovebirds, this is about Namjoon. Joonie-hyung, I would just offer to help out and join with yours but I was gonna do mine this afternoon, and I don’t think a husband would fit very well into it.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon assures, shifting under the weight of the man in his lap. His fingers flex on the arm of the chair behind Jimin’s back, unsure. “Taehyung? Yours might work, I guess.”

Unaware of Namjoon’s indecision, Jimin suddenly stands up off his lap entirely, stalking over to Taehyung with a bemused grin. “You think our well-trained Taehyungie could be the family dog?”

Taehyung, though keening under Jimin’s sudden attention, seems hesitant. “I- I don’t know, Minnie, I haven’t really…” He trails off helplessly, casting Namjoon an apologetic stare.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon rushes out, scooting forward to the edge of the armchair. “You don’t have to, I could just do it by myself.”

It’s strange, watching Jimin so visibly caught in indecision. He hovers in the centre of the small shed, torso towards Taehyung but head twisted back to stare at Namjoon. Wanting to support Namjoon, but wanting to protect Taehyung.

Jungkook feels like an outsider invading in on a precious equilibrium. Namjoon shifts, gaze dropping. Taehyung can’t keep his fingers still as they fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. Jimin’s so still the thin silver threads of his earrings don’t even shift in the air, but his eyes flood with emotion, bottom lip twitching just slightly as he seeks for something to say.

Jimin isn’t as mean as he’d like people to think, Jungkook muses. Saving the uncomfortable decision, Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, diverting the attention of the other three. “We could always practice? Jimin, you’re pretty. Pretend to be Y/n and give Joon-hyung some tips.”

The effect of his words are instantaneous. Jimin perks up, turning on his heel to grin down at his elder, who gasps almost imperceptibly. Taehyung’s eyes dull with something akin to disappointment. At himself or at the situation, Jungkook can’t say, but the sight of him turning to the whiteboard and swirling sullen circles of ink on the glossy surface has Jungkook’s heart breaking.

Leaving the other two to talk - Jimin resting gracefully on one of the arms of the chair, his feet dangling between Namjoon’s - Jungkook hurries forward, wrapping his fingers around Tae’s to catch his attention.

“What’s up?” he asks softly, low enough to give the two some privacy.

Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Taehyung shrugs. “Nothing.”

Jungkook isn’t deterred by the shortness of his tone, but changes tacts nonetheless. “It’s a bit weird,” he offers up, “it’s like each of us is the wingman to the other guys, but we’re all going for the same girl.”

With Jungkook’s hand still on top, Taehyung begins to swipe the pen across the board again. This time, what looks like a flower with long, pointed petals takes shape in thick black lines. Taehyung himself stays focused for a few moments of silence, until he’s ready to speak.

“But it’s not just that,” he explains in a low timbre, “it’s not just her.”

Jungkook lets his hand be maneuvered by the deft movements of the masseuse. Every part of Taehyung was so elegant, like he’d been sculpted from marble. From those slender fingers, to the slope of his nose. Lashes that brushed against his brow bone as he focused, teeth pressing just slightly into his lip, a dusky pink. “No, it’s not,” Jungkook agrees after a moment.

Taehyung lets his hand fall, Jungkook’s slipping off. With eyes hidden behind dark curls, the elder sneaks a look at Jimin and Namjoon, the two smiling and laughing, Jimin’s fingers playing with the strap of the watch on the other’s wrist lazily.

“I never know who to be jealous of,” Taehyung admits with a weak chuckle, capping the pen. “Anyways; that doesn’t matter. We’re here to help Namjoon.”

Jungkook spares a glance at the lovebirds on the armchair. “I think he’s doing just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung answers shortly, eyes locked on the way Jimin curls onto Namjoon’s shoulder, the two locked onto Namjoon’s phone as he types in notes. “He’ll do fine.” Letting out a deep sigh, Taehyung scrunches his eyes shut and shakes his head, like he’s clearing the funk away. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all in this together.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “But- Well, no, this is still a competition. Technically we should be against each other, not together.”

The air leaves Taehyung’s lungs in a rushed breath. “Fuck, you’re right. I should, like, hate you, right?”

Jungkook hums with a raised brow. “I guess.”

“I should be trying to cockblock you and tell Y/n you have syphilis, yet here I am wanting to suck the dicks of everyone in this room. But also maybe hold the hands of everyone in this room. You can imagine my confusion.”

Jungkook feels his stress slip away at the genuine smile that tugs at Taehyung’s lips. Even if his eyes are still muted with sorrow, he doesn’t seem so despairing over it. The youngest reaches out to grip onto Taehyung’s upper arm reassuringly. “We could have hate sex if it’d make you feel better?” he offers up in a soft voice.

The blue depths in Taehyung’s gaze recede a little more as his smile brightens. “I’d like that.”

The two manage to hold this Hallmark moment for a little longer before Taehyung’s shoulders begin to shake with suppressed laughter. In seconds, the two are dissolving into chuckles and snickers, Jungkook throwing his head back and Taehyung hunching over with the force of it.

Across from them, Namjoon and Jimin pause their excited conversation to stare at them in bewilderment.

“What did we miss?” Namjoon asks, brow knitted but eyes wide.

“Never mind,” Jungkook deflects, heart feeling strangely warm as Taehyung grins under his lashes at him, like the two of them have an inside joke. “We should probably pack up, though, unless we want Producer Shin coming back in the middle of our top secret team meeting.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in agreement and stands up off Namjoon’s lap. Lithe like a cat, his arms come up over his head and his back arches into a stretch, eyes fluttering shut. Jungkook knows his eyes aren’t the only pair watching the way his shirt lifts to display a band of pale golden skin.

“Alright,” the porn star lets out with a relaxed sigh, arms dropping and shirt falling again, “let’s head out, then. Joonie’s sorted.”

Namjoon stands up behind him, nodding shyly. “Thank you, guys. I feel a lot better about it now.”

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look. “To be fair,” Jungkook says with a light cough, “I don’t think Tae and I really helped at all.”

Jimin sends the two of them a broad smile, eyes crinkling in good humour. “You did provide the whiteboard,” he points out. “Though I imagine your efforts to steal it without Sejin realising were in vain.”

Taehyung frowns, hand automatically lifting to rub at his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“There aren’t any cameras in here,” Jungkook offers to Jimin, “he wouldn’t have seen it!”

Jimin blinks. “Where do you think Sejin went after helping Tae out of the staircase?”

Jungkook feels the odd pressure of dawning realisation that hasn’t quite materialised. “His office,” he answers slowly, “why?”

Behind Jimin, Namjoon ducks out with a sympathetic smile. “He probably noticed the giant whiteboard missing, Jungkookie.”

The camboy opens his mouth, waits for words to come, and closes it again. “Mm,” he replies eloquently.

“Oh, we’re gonna get in big trouble, huh?” Taehyung mumbles, fiddling with the pen in his hands.

“Wait,” Namjoon offers, “I’ll tell him it was me.”

Jungkook frowns. “How does that help?”

“Sejin won’t get mad at me, he loves me. I’ll just tell him I was getting a head start on my work for next semester.”

“When did he tell you he loved you?” Jungkook asks with a pout. “He never says it back to me.”

“I didn’t- What?” Namjoon frowns. “I was just chatting to him for advice one night and he told me I remind him of his son.”

“He doesn’t have any kids,” Jimin says with a lilt of confusion.

“I think he was talking about his cat,” Namjoon admits with a pained look, “but he loves his cat, so he must love me. Anyways, I’ll tell him I was using it for study and I don’t think he’ll mind. Just clear off the board and one of you can help me wheel it back.”

Jungkook sighs a breath of relief, turning back to the board. Beside it, Taehyung is frozen with his head bent and his mouth dropped open, staring at the pen. Neither Jin nor him thought to bring a duster, so Jungkook balls up his sleeve in his palm and wipes off the-

And wipes off the-

“Why isn’t it coming off?” Jungkook asks frantically, scrubbing over the shiny lines of black. “It’s not even smudging!”

“Um, Jungkookie,” Taehyung utters lowly, curls shifting as he slowly looks up. “This is a permanent marker.”

Jungkook’s hand freezes. He steps back, eyes wide as they stare at the image drawn in thick black.

The blooming form of what looked like a lily on the bottom corner, that was fine, but the giant all-caps Y/N PREGNANT followed by a very evocative drawing of a heavily pregnant woman beside a patriotic Namjoon was going to be harder to explain.

Slowly, Jungkook swivels on his heel, coming face-to-face with Namjoon, whose eyes are almost open wider than his mouth. “Hey, hyung,” the youngest offers up with a tentative smile, “how much d’you reckon Sejin loves that cat?”

It’s late afternoon by the time Jungkook has done his penance with the whiteboard and Sejin himself, but luckily it means that Yoongi is definitely in his room when Jungkook goes knocking.

More content with his own company, the second oldest tended to retire to his bedroom early to “entertain” himself. Jungkook had assumed this was a euphemism for masturbating, but Taehyung had informed him that the doctor was making his way through an impressive collection of the Slam Dunk manga these days.

As expected, Yoongi opens the door to Jungkook on his third knock, ushering him in with a look of confusion.

“Hyung,” Jungkook begins in an entreating tone, “you have a first aid kid in your room, don’t you?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, back straightening in alarm. “Is someone hurt?”

“No, no, it’s sex reasons,” Jungkook explains quickly, eyes wandering around the room, eying up the open closet in the back of his room. “Do you have a white coat?”

“I- what? No, I don’t have a white coat,” Yoongi stutters out, face scrunched up in confusion. “What is this about?”

Jungkook hums, brushing back hair out of his face absentmindedly as he delves deeper into Yoongi’s room, checking in the drawers of the small nightstand. “I can make do without the white coat,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, before turning on his heel to face the older man again. “Do you have stirrups?”

“Stirrups?” Yoongi asks incredulously. His arms are folded over his chest tightly, though the brown loose-knit sweater loses the intimidation factor. “Why would I bring stirrups? They’re attached to the chair anyway, I can’t just pack them away in my suitcase.”

Dammit. Jungkook collapses onto Yoongi’s bed back-first, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “You need to help me, hyung. I’m determined to win fan favourite this week, so I need to go all out.”

A sigh of realization comes from the other side of the room. “Your prompt,” Yoongi remarks flatly. “What is it; nurse and patient?”

Jungkook’s mouth drops open as he sits up. “Doctor and patient,” he declares proudly. “I asked if Sejin could promote me to neurosurgeon but he said it wasn’t relevant.” The thought dampens Jungkook’s spirits a bit. Even just regular surgeon would have been nice. “But anyway,” he continues, “whatever props you have would be greatly appreciated. I already googled a list of medical terms, so I’m feeling pretty good.”

Yoongi sighs again, but he shuffles over to his closet and pulls out a sizeable, bright green first aid kit, laying it on the bed. Jungkook gasps in excitement and makes room for him, but Yoongi just tuts. “First of all,” he explains while unzipping it, “these aren’t props, they’re medical-grade supplies. And you can’t have them all. I don’t trust you with most of the things in here.”

Jungkook frowns, but shrugs off the disappointment. Something is still better than nothing. “Okay, hyung,” he allows in a small voice, “thank you.”

Yoongi fails to hide the quirk of a fond smile as he takes out some of the stuff in the kit. “You owe me,” he says instead.

You have to give it to Jungkook; the dedication to his craft is impressive.

After he sent you a vague and rather concerning message about needing to see you in the gym for ‘health reasons’, you were greeted by a hand-written DO NOT DISTURB (unless you’re y/n) sign taped to the door.

Inside, the indoor gym had been transformed. Most of the larger equipment had been shifted to one side, leaving the other half open. In the middle of the open area is a weightlifting bench covered in a white sheet which you’re certain was off his bed. A comically out-of-place office chair is beside a table which Jungkook is using like a desk. The desk is pushed up against the mirror which fills one whole wall of the gym, and you can’t help but laugh at the infographics and charts he’s printed out on A4 sheets of paper and taped to the mirror.

There’s a fuzzy x-ray of some ribs taped next to a heart rate line, frozen mid-pulse like he took a screenshot off a video, which is next to a chart filled with increasingly smaller letters, like one you’d see in an optometrist’s office. Though everything is mismatched, the effort he’s put it really warms your heart.

The desk is where you find Jungkook. He sits with his back to you, typing away obnoxiously loudly at a laptop on the desk. On the screen, gibberish keysmashes fill up an otherwise empty Word document. Rather than a lab coat, Jungkook looks more sharply dressed than you’ve ever seen him in a ironed button-up shirt, pale blue. The back of the fabric is taut against his skin, clearly borrowed from a slightly smaller, or at least less jacked man. But it provides a streamlined view of the muscles in his back and shoulders, tucked into belted black pants to highlight the surprisingly narrow waist.

Kitschy or not, you’re grateful that Jungkook got some kind of cheesy medical roleplay if it meant you finally got to see him in fitted clothing.

Even though he must have heard you open the door and lock it behind you, he remains tapping away at the keys. His head tips slightly to the side, expectant.

“Jungkook,” you call out, disappointed and a little confused when he doesn’t respond. But you quickly realise your mistake. “Oh, uh. Doctor Jeon?”

Like clockwork, he spins around magnanimously on the chair, hands splayed out in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, my favourite patient. Do come in.”

So we already know each other then, you surmise. Remembering all these details was an unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome part of this week’s theme. Developing a backstory, information on the scene, almost felt like constructing a scaffold to continue. There was something equally reassuring and exciting about it. A bolt of arousal shooting between your legs, you step in to the middle of the open area, sitting awkwardly on the covered bench.

“Take a seat,” Jungkook adds redundantly, like he’s following a script. “Let me just bring your file up. Name?”

You pause as he wheels back around to the laptop, pulling up what looks like an Excel spreadsheet. “I thought I was your favourite patient,” you quip with a smirk, but unable to suppress your fondness at how much thought he’s clearly put into it.

Jungkook’s shoulders drop, but he doesn’t falter. “Of course, I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been in the field for so long, you know.” He shrugs demurely. “I was actually a neurosurgeon before this.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbles out of your throat before you can catch it. “You went from neurosurgeon to doctor? Isn’t that backwards?”

Jungkook’s eyes waver, biting his lip. “I prefer the simple life,” he offers as an explanation. He shakes himself out of it, and turns back to the computer once more with a warm sigh. “Alrighty then, I’ve got your file here. It’s been a while since your last visit,” he remarks, cursor hovering over a watermarked image of a clock. “I better check your vitals again.”

You watch in bemusement as he readies himself, first sanitising his hands using a small travel-size bottle that’s in the shape of a cartoon shark, then pulls on a pair of latex gloves that had been lying on his desk. Even in the strangely comedic atmosphere, the sound of him snapping the glove against his wrist makes you gasp soundlessly, thighs pressing together in need.

Jungkook notices it, eyes darting down as he rolls his chair over. He unbuttons each cuff off his shirt and rolls them up to expose his forearms. His hair is getting thicker as it grows, and even though it’s pushed back, a few locks slip forward to frame the smirk on his face.

You swallow, neck craning as he gets closer. The bench you’re sat on clearly isn’t intended as an examination table because it’s just as low to the ground as the chair, and there’s something inside you that runs electric when he comes close, looking down at you from it. With spread knees, he places them on either side of yours and pins you there, making you gasp.

The feeling of the cold gloves on your cheekbones, pressing to keep you steady is dizzying, more so when he looks intensely into your eyes, searching with a cool professionalism that you’d never seen from him before. Though it’s new, you recognise the shift in the tension of the room signifying the true start of the scene.

In your peripheral vision, you spot his tongue darting out to wet his lips, but you’re locked onto his gaze. Jungkook smiles softly. “Eyes are healthy,” he remarks, “good to know you’ll be able to see everything properly.”

The gloves catch on your skin, one sliding down to tighten on your chin, tipping your neck back even more. You’re barely breathing, waiting for his move.

“Open up and say ahh,” he instructs huskily, and you’re responding without thought, letting your lips part and your tongue relax. Jungkook frowns. “Wider.” You feel the corners of your mouth pang as you lower your jaw as much as you can in his grasp. “Keep it like that,” he demands sternly, and your heart thuds.

To your surprise, he doesn’t just look inside. You jerk instinctively in his grip as two gloved fingers slide down your tongue, but his rebuking glare has you settling again, trying to breathe through your nose as he delves deeper, smirking at the way you squirm, legs trapped between his and eyes lidded as you feel the length of his fingers heavy on your tongue.

Quicker than you can put your head around, his fingers plunge deeper, far enough down your throat to make you gag, tears springing to his eyes. His fingers leave as you let out a little cough, blinking wetly at him in betrayal.

Jungkook smirks, not bothering to wipe the shine of your saliva off his glove. “Gag reflex intact and responding well,” he notes smugly.

“How is that a vital?” you question, voice slightly hoarse.

“It’s vital for what I’m about to do to you,” he quips with a lecherous grin, and you bite down hard on your tongue to fight the urge to tremble.

“And what is that, Doctor?” you ask instead, blinking owlishly up at him.

His lip quirks. “Don’t play coy, now, Y/n, I’ve seen the way you look at me during our appointments. Tell me; why is it that you came here today?”

You swallow, eyes heavy on him. “I’ve been suffering a strange sensation, Doctor,” you make out, your voice quieter than you intended. “Can you make me feel better?”

Jungkook exhales harshly, hands dropping to rest on your knees. “And where does it hurt, hm? Here?”

You suck in a breath as his legs spread further, coming close enough that your knees press against his crotch, the hardness undeniable. A single hand shifts up to lay against your forehead, questioning, and you shake your head. His hand skims lower, pressing firmly against your sternum where you feel your heart race against it.

“Here?” he questions, and continues on when he receives a negative. Next he veers off to the side, cupping a breast and brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Does it ache here?”

You whimper, arching into his hand. “A little bit,” you offer up weakly, glad you opted out of wearing a bra in anticipation of the scene.

The answer seems to amuse Jungkook, and you shiver when you feel his other hand playing with the hem of your shirt, the gloves tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach. “I better check it out then, hm?”

You feel so exposed, the air conditioner chilling the air and the mirror reflecting Jungkook’s back as he leans in close, breath tickling your bare shoulder as his hands cup your breasts.

Without further preamble, he begins to roll your nipples simultaneously between his fingers, enough pressure to make you shiver as he studies your reactions closely. The feeling of being touched so intimately with the barrier of latex gloves feels both taboo and exciting, and without even realising you find your hands clenched in the fabric of his shirt, gripping at his biceps as they flex with every movement.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” Jungkook asks lowly, humming in response when you shake your head. “What about this?” Suddenly, he’s tugging, pinching them harshly enough to make your back arch to ease the pressure.

You squeal, fingers digging in deeper to the corded muscle of his forearms. “Yeah,” you gasp out shakily, “h-hurts.”

Jungkook doesn’t stop. “But you like it, don’t you?” he accuses as he continues his rough treatment. “Coming into my office, begging me to touch you like this. Fucking filthy.”

A moan slips out as you rock your hips against the bench, seeking friction for the heat between your legs. “Please, Ju- Doctor Jeon, it hurts,” you cry out, gaze imploring as you blink up at him.

All of a sudden, he pulls back entirely, hands falling back onto his own knees as he watches you. “Show me,” he instructs, eyes hazy.

You shiver, the cool air shifting over your naked torso as his stare burns molten hot. “Show you what?”

Carding a hand through his hair to push it back, Jungkook wets his lips. “Show me where it aches the most,” he explains, voice like crushed velvet.

This was a side of him you’d never seen before; neither the competitive dom nor the obedient sub. His sexual versatility never fails to surprise you, and you find yourself hopelessly lost in the calm dominant air he exudes. Shakily, you part your legs.

He scoffs lightly. “That isn’t much help if I can’t see it. Undress.”

A rushed exhale leaves you at his shortness, but you stand up and push off your leggings and panties, kicking them to the side. It’s far harder to bare yourself to him this time, and as you sit, you can’t help but hesitate.

Jungkook raises a brow at your pause, leaning back like he’s disappointed. “I’m a very busy man, Y/n,” he chastises, “these appointment slots aren’t long and if you don’t want the next patient coming in while you’re choking on my cock, I suggest you do as I say, when I say it.”

Your legs fly apart the moment his voice lowers into a growl, clenching automatically at the open air at your most vulnerable place. “Please help me, Doctor,” you plead lowly.

Jungkook curses under his breath and comes forward again, placing a single gloved hand over your core. You jerk instinctively but keep your legs open at his warning glare. Even through the gloves, he has to feel how wet you are, slicking up the latex without him moving it. “It hurts here, hm? Lie down on your back and I’ll take a look.”

Your breath picks up as you turn and lower yourself onto the white sheet, legs dangling over the end. To your surprise, Jungkook doesn’t come around but returns to the desk, rolling his chair away and rifling through what looks like a first aid kit. You crane your head to watch him, narrowing your eyes in confusion as he returns with what looks like two rolled up lengths of gauze bandage.

“This isn’t the usual gyno office,” he explains, unravelling one slowly, “so we don’t have stirrups. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure to keep you nice and open for me.”

Like he’s done this a million times before - though the rational part of your brain knows he’s probably making this up as he goes along - he begins using the bandage material to bind your ankles to the legs of the bench, wide enough that you have to shuffle right to the edge, spread wide. He doesn’t say a thing when he ties them, mumbling to himself like he’s recalling instructions, and slips in his fingers to test how tight they are.

He’s kneeled between your open legs now, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch as he runs his fingertips over your sopping folds, eyes lidded with arousal. “Does it hurt here, Y/n?”

You shake your head, fighting the urge to scoot even closer. “Inside,” you explain, sighing in relief when two fingers plunge inside your walls, scissoring to stretch you out.

Jungkook has one hand on your thigh to hold you steady as he rocks his fingers back and forth like he’s seeking something, and the feeling of the latex, so slick with your juices, has you trembling immediately. “It’s important in this line of work,” Jungkook breathes out as his fingers widen even more inside you, “to be thorough, so just relax for me, let me in.”

The moment you try and unclench, his fingers curl and press up against your g-spot, and it’s like a line of electricity connecting all your nerves together lights up. Your legs instinctively flex in an attempt to close around his hand, but the taut bonds keep them spread, and you sob at the reminder, arms giving out so that you end up flat on your back again.

Jungkook chuckles. “Looks like we found the problem,” he remarks cheerily. His fingers continue their assault, targeted now as you writhe beneath him, and the wet sounds of the latex as he increases to three digits echo obscenely in the large room. “That’s it.”

The joints of your fingers ache as you cling onto the edges of the table for dear life, unable to stop the rising wave of pleasure that threatens to crash. It’s so close you feel it in your teeth, eyes rolling back and babbling nonsense to try and get him to go faster, harder.

Faintly, you hear the sound of him humming in amusement, and your mind conjures the mental image of him, sleeves rolled up and gloves dripping with your arousal, hair falling in his eyes and teeth glinting as he grins and brings you to orgasm. It’s that thought that finally begins to tip you over the edge, and just before the wave crests, you feel his fingers slip out.

“Looks like it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he remarks cheekily.

“No, no, no, don’t stop,” you blabber mindlessly, but it’s too late, and your orgasm washes through you as he sits back and watches the unsatisfying roll of pleasure take your body.

Irrationally, you feel tears prick at your eyes with the cruelness of his actions. “It sti- It still hurts, Doctor,” you sob, reaching a hand down to cup yourself, wanting more even as you hiss with the sensitivity.

Jungkook tuts in fake sympathy. “My fingers can’t reach any further, Y/n, if I couldn’t reach where it hurts, I don’t know how I can help you.”

Your bottom lip trembles as you blink your eyes open again, struggling to focus on him. “Use your cock, Doctor, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Is that so?” You could just about cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle jingling, and Jungkook kneeling over you, lining himself up. You can feel the tip pressed against your entrance, just enough pressure to tease you. “Too impatient for me to even put a condom on, naughty girl.”

“Fuck, I don’t care, just fuck me, Doctor,” you whine, your sentence punctuated by a strangled cry as Jungkook snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in a single thrust.

Somehow you’d forgotten just how long Jungkook was - while he wasn’t the thickest or overall largest, and even the thought of mentally cataloguing the guys’ dicks was strange - there was a graceful rising curve to his length that felt like it pierced right through you, and as he starts a punishing rhythm, you feel the air punched right out of your lungs.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jungkook growls. “Acting innocent when you just wanted my cock to fuck you stupid, hm?”

With every thrust, your body is rocked back and forth on the bench, and you feel the bandages that bind your ankles to the legs of the table loosen, a little bit at first and then enough that they slip off completely. It feels odd to no longer be tied down, and Jungkook notices how your body is suddenly shifting far more than it was before.

His pace slows down and you feel a gloved hand wrap around one of your ankles. “Do you want them back on? I don’t think I tied them so well,” Jungkook notes hesitantly, and if you weren’t wildly chasing your orgasm, you might have cooed at his character dropping away to reveal the Jungkook you’re more used to.

As it is, your mind can only care about one thing. “I don’ need them, just fuck me!” you plead, and Jungkook exhales sharply, lifting your ankle until it rests on his shoulder, holding down your hips to fuck into you once more.

With the new angle, you can just about feel him in your guts, and your mouth drops open soundlessly, the only noises escaping your lips are gasped breaths as you feel a deeper orgasm begin to build.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” you manage to slur out, a raw scream bouncing off the walls as he lowers a hand to rub at your clit, the slippery glove only making him thumb it faster. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking-ah!”

Your sentence is cut off violently as an orgasm rips through you as suddenly and overwhelmingly as an electric shock. If you’re making any noise, you can’t hear it, your mind like white static as you sit there and let it take you. Every inch of you is singing, down to your toes, and as Jungkook continues to fuck you into oversensitivity, you feel another release, one that makes you shudder and Jungkook swear violently, spilling inside you as he grips at the flesh of your hip.

It takes a while for the blur in your mind to clear, vision swirling in hazy technicolour and whole body trembling. Jungkook must have taken the gloves off at some point, because you feel the softness of his hands as they seek out yours, gently squeezing to rouse you more.

“Y/n,” you hear him say, voice still distant. The fog dissipates more with the calling of your name, and you feel yourself tune in again, once more becoming aware of the cool breeze of the aircon on your heated skin. Jungkook leans over you, eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Y/n. Have you ever done that before?”

You knit your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, sitting back. He’s still inside you, barely softening, and you groan at the sensitivity of him shifting. “Look,” he guides, and you glance down to see your stomach and thighs, shiny with wetness, too thin to be cum. The liquid soaks his shirt, too, leaving dark patches. “That was fucking hot,” Jungkook gushes, his doctor persona well and truly evaporated by now.

You laugh weakly, an exhausted smile stretching at your lips. “I don’t think so? Fuck, that was a lot.”

“You were amazing,” Jungkook praises, squeezing your hands one last time before letting them go. He begins to pull out, then, and you shudder at the emptiness, remnants of his cum dripping out of you as he lowers your leg to the ground again. You sit up carefully, still lightheaded, and watch as he quickly rushes over to the desk, returning with a gauze pad damp with water from a bottle.

He uses it to clean you up in comfortable silence, though you can’t help but bite your lip when you notice he’s still hard. Just as he finishes wiping away the last of the wetness from your thighs and begins to wipe himself off, you reach out a hand to halt him.

“Doctor,” you coo teasingly, “won’t you let me clean you up? I wanna repay you for making the ache go away.”

His chest heaves as he shudders out a breath. “Really?”

You blink up at him as he stands in front of you, his cock right in front of you, glossy with your combined cum. “Don’t you wanna test my vitals one more time, doctor? Just to make sure?”

He gulps as you lean closer and lick a single stripe up the underside of his cock. It’s only slightly bitter, and well worth it for the look on his face and the feeling of his hands carding through your hair.

“I’ve got some filing to do,” Jungkook offers up, chest puffing as he slips back into his role, “if you’re going to clean me up like a good little girl, you can do it while I get back to work. I’m a busy man.”

You bite your lip as he cups the back of your neck and urges you to stand, leading you towards the desk. It’s just tall enough that you can sit on your knees below it, mouthing at his cock as he sits back in the office chair.

Giving a guy head isn’t your favourite hobby, but there’s something weirdly erotic about licking your own cum off of him as he types away, all but ignoring you. As you clean him up dutifully, you realise it’s a challenge, of sorts, to suck him off so well that he breaks concentration.

His jaunty clicks of the mouse and punching of keys continues away as he sighs lowly, feeling your lips wrap around his tip. You tongue the slit, keeping yourself steady by gripping the meat of his inner thighs and let your eyes slip shut so that you can fully focus on the minute sounds he lets out.

As you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, testing your limits, you begin to learn the rhythm of his typing, recognising what makes it falter. His tip is sensitive, particularly where it meets the shaft, but it’s when you lap at the skin below his base and suck his balls into your mouth, tonguing at them languidly, that makes him break concentration fully.

“Hngh, fuck,” you hear him make out in a strangled voice, a hand coming down to stroke at his own length.

You bat it away immediately. “I thought you needed to work, Doctor,” you tease, “just let me take care of it.”

Jungkook groans but doesn’t protest when you wrap a hand around him and jerk him off, fingers tight around him as you suck at his perineum, making him moan prettily, the tapping of keys sparse and uncoordinated.

“Fuck, gonna- gonna cum again,” he warns, thighs tensing with the urge to thrust up into your grip.

You switch positions to suck his length into your mouth, rolling his balls in your hand and bobbing your head. Jungkook’s falling apart so beautifully, gasping out little ah, ah, ahs with every breath.

The moment you feel him stiffen up even more, you suck in a breath through your nose and swallow him down to the back of your throat, tearing up as your gag reflex kicks in.

He cums with a cry, shooting ropes of cum down your throat, and you wring out every last drop until he’s hissing and pulling away.

Jungkook helps you up from under the table with shaky hands and tucks himself away, panting. “Holy shit,” he says with a exhausted laugh, “I should have gone to medical school.”

The two of you spend the late afternoon showering and then returning the gym to its former glory. It’s not until even dinner has passed before you recall the rule of the Bangasm Bomb - a different bed every night.

You’d slept in Jungkook’s bed on the Monday night, and so you’d have to seek shelter elsewhere.

After getting into pajamas, you step out into the second-floor hallway, glancing around to see if anyone’s door is open. Jin’s is open - he’s still downstairs having a beer with Yoongi - but you’ve used his bed before. The only other one that’s ajar is the bunkroom.

Inside, Namjoon has his nose inside a book by a Japanese author you’ve vaguely heard of, and Hoseok folds a pile of laundry on his bed.

“Room for one?” you call out hopefully. The two of them have each chosen a separate bunk so they can see each other, but while Namjoon has a bottom bunk, Hoseok’s hair just about brushes the ceiling on the third and highest bed. The two of them glance up in unison, matching grins as they wave you inside.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hoseok chimes out cheerfully.

“I was wondering if I could stay in a bed here tonight. I can’t room with Jungkook again.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm in recollection of the scene the three of you shared on Monday. “Well, we’ve got plenty of space. Pick a bed; any bed.”

It makes the most sense to choose the third stack of beds, on the far wall from the door. With only two beds instead of three, it’s easy enough to choose the top one, a perfect halfway point between Namjoon and Hoseok. “It’s not so bad in here,” you remark, tugging up the sheets so you can slip under.

“As far as punishments go, it does seem pretty tame,” Namjoon notes, adjusting a pair of thick reading glasses that balance precariously on his nose. “Though I do feel like it’s the equivalent of a naughty corner. Even if it’s comfortable, it’s the social factor that makes it undesirable.”

“It’s basically a sleepover for losers,” Hoseok surmises.

Namjoon pauses and nods. “Well said.”

You chuckle. “You two seem to be getting along well. Doing a lot of bonding in here, are we?”

“Not a whole lot else to do,” Hoseok points out. “We’ve been chatting away the boredom. Did you know Namjoon thought he could speak to crabs when he was a kid?”

Namjoon lets out a wounded noise, carefully marking his page with a bookmark before tossing the novel to the side. “I never said that! I said I thought they were trying to speak to me, okay?” The academic pokes his head out to look up at you. “Hobi-hyung is scared of Big Bird from Sesame Street!”

Instead of defending himself, Hoseok nods with an indignant pout. “Yeah, I fuckin’ am.”

You let out a peal of laughter. “Wow, you’ve only been in here three nights and you’re already sharing childhood trauma? Jin’s gonna be devastated he missed it.”

“Jin had the chance to come join me and he chose not to,” Hoseok declares. “As far as I’m concerned, Namjoon is the only man in this house I respect.”

Namjoon beams, eyes crinkling behind thick frames. “Thanks, hyung. I respect you, too.”

Hoseok’s chest puffs up in pride. “You better after all the things I’ve taught you.”

Namjoon’s blush is telling. You lean forward in interest, glancing back and forth between the two. “Wait; what did you teach him?”

“Well, we’re not gonna tell you,” the dom responds petulantly, turning his nose up, “it’s a surprise for your scene together.”

You pout, leaning back onto the pillow on your bed. “That’s no fun.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun when you get to experience it firsthand, trust me.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh at Hoseok’s teasing, slipping his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand beside the bunks. “Don’t hype it up too much, hyung, I’m not that good yet.”

“You’ll get there, young grasshopper.”

You frown at the uncertain look on Namjoon’s face. “I can go ask one of the others to room with them if you wanna, uh, practice some more.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No, it’s okay. This can be my rest day.”

Hoseok sighs sweetly, rubbing his eyes. “Actually, rest does sound pretty nice. We can pick it up tomorrow. Night, Joonie. Night, Y/n.”

You and Namjoon chime out a simultaneous reply as Hoseok climbs down the stairs to deposit his pile of folded laundry on the empty bed below, returns to the top bunk, and tucks himself in.

Namjoon seems equally relieved to be able to go to bed early, curling up with a pillow cuddled to his chest. “Sweet dreams,” his low timbre calls out.

You smile fondly at your two boys, snuggled up with peaceful faces as they drift away. “Sleep well,” you offer up, before getting comfortable and letting your own eyes slip closed.

#bts x reader #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #networkbangtan #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #goldenclosetnetwork #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btswritersnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #bangtanidx

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Help This Scholar Reverse the Erasure of Native Contributions in the Creation of These 20th-Century Murals

https://sciencespies.com/history/help-this-scholar-reverse-the-erasure-of-native-contributions-in-the-creation-of-these-20th-century-murals/

Help This Scholar Reverse the Erasure of Native Contributions in the Creation of These 20th-Century Murals

Smithsonian Voices Smithsonian Institution Office of Fellowships and Internships

Reversing the Erasure of Native Contributions to Muralism

October 9th, 2020, 9:00AM / BY

Davida Fernandez-Barkan

Eduard Buk Ulreich, Advance Guard of the West (mural study, New Rockford, North Dakota Post Office), ca. 1939-1940, tempera on fiberboard, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Transfer from the U.S. Department of the Interior, National Park Service, 1965.18.33

Being an art historian is a little like being a detective. It sometimes takes me to unlikely places—including, recently, a basement outside St. Louis, where the relatives of an artist I was researching for my dissertation generously allowed me to review documents from his life. The artist, Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, had designed a number of publicly funded murals throughout his career; studies for many of them can be found in the collection of the Smithsonian American Art Museum and Renwick Gallery (SAAM). My interest in Ulreich was related to two 88-foot wooden panels inspired by Native American symbols that he conceived for the United States Pavilion at the 1937 World’s Fair in Paris.[1] One document in particular has occupied my thoughts in the months since my visit: a newspaper clipping showing two men shaking hands. The men stand in front of what appears to be Ulreich’s mural Indians Watching Stagecoach in the Distance (1937), which he painted for the post office in Columbia, MO. The man on the left is named in the caption as the 1937 U.S. pavilion’s “chief designer,” Paul Lester Wiener, while the one on the right, appearing in a feathered headdress, is identified simply as, “a Navajo Indian who gave his advice on the vast murals depicting Indian life and thought which are being painted by Buck [sic.] Ulreich for the outside of the skyscraper tower.”[2] My goal, ultimately, is to identify this man. Yet even without declaring this man’s identity, the photograph highlights an oft-overlooked aspect of twentieth-century American art: the essential contributions of Native Americans to the mural movement that overtook the United States in the years between World War I and World War II.

Paul Lester Wiener and an unidentified advisor for the U.S. Pavilion murals, Private archive of Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, St. Louis, MO. (Hans Knopf, Pix, Inc.)

Ulreich was one of the many U.S. artists who received funds to install murals in public buildings in the United States during the 1930s and early 1940s through programs such as the Public Works of Art Project, the Treasury Section of Fine Arts, and the Works Progress Administration. He styled himself as a “Cowboy-Painter,” a claim that lay in part in his avowed knowledge of Native American cultures.[3] The artist was vocal about time he had spent around Native Americans, including as an actual cowboy on a ranch on an Apache reservation in Arizona. He posited that it was this type of exposure that resulted in his selection to paint the exposition murals.[4] Yet as the newspaper clipping indicates, Ulreich required the input of at least one Native advisor to accurately convey the mural’s symbols. A different clipping in Ulreich’s family’s archive identifies a number of the symbols that appear, stacked on top of one another, in the pavilion’s murals. These include a “Kachina”[5] figure popular in Pueblo cultures, a Crow thunderbird, and an adaptation of a deity used in Navajo[6] sand painting.[7] This same clipping indicates that, although Ulreich designed the murals, a “member of the Navajo tribe” actually painted them. This individual, like the man in the photograph, is unnamed in the clippings. Neither appears to be mentioned at all in fair-sponsored publications and they are absent altogether from what limited secondary literature exists about the U.S. pavilion at the 1937 exposition.

The U.S. Pavilion at the 1937 World’s Fair in Paris, pylon murals designed by Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, from Photographies en couleurs: exposition internationale des arts et des techniques appliqués à la vie moderne: album official (Paris: Photolith, 1937)

The 1937 fair was not the first world’s fair to feature murals indebted to Native American labor and knowledge. The 1933 Century of Progress exposition in Chicago had included a series of murals executed by a group of artists associated with the Santa Fe Indian School. Changing perceptions of Native culture, reflected in the work of both Native and non-Native artists alike, were in fact a hallmark of the mural movement in the United States. In addition, one of the movement’s most revolutionary aspects was an increased access to the role of “artist.” Not only men of European descent, but also many women, Native Americans, and other people of color became muralists. Still, artists from these marginalized groups did not receive the same treatment as their white male counterparts. Like the Native participants in the 1937 exposition, the artists who developed the Century of Progress murals are anonymous in fair literature. One administrative document refers to them simply as the “Santa Fe Indians,” while it refers to white artists such as George Biddle and John Norton by name.[8] Thanks to the work of art historians such as Jennifer McLerran, we know the identities of many of the mural artists involved with the Santa Fe Indian School. Several of these are represented in SAAM’s collection, including Julian “Pocano” Martinez, Tse Ye Mu (known alternately as Romando Vigil), Awa Tsireh (known alternately as Alfonso Roybal), Oqwa Pi (known alternately as Abel Sanchez), and Ma Pe Wi (known alternately as Velino Shije Herrera), whose murals can also be found in the Department of the Interior building in Washington, D.C.[9]

To identify the Native individuals who helped create the panels at the 1937 fair would ensure that they are given credit, if belated, for their work. Beyond this, it would be a means of celebrating Native contributions to the mural movement. Native participation in the painting of such monumental, public works of art during this period is little known and seldom discussed, a problem that is compounded when we do not know the names of the individuals who took part. The erasure of nonwhite groups from public life is particularly dangerous, as it has a pernicious history in this country. From attacks on Black communities to anti-immigrant rhetoric, the claim that only white Americans “create,” while others sponge off their productivity, has been one of the most insidious myths shoring up the ideology of white supremacy over the last several centuries.[10]

Searching for the identity of the man in the 1937 photograph is a small way of combatting this myth. It is a way of ensuring that white artists do not receive the only credit for their collaborations with communities of color. I am therefore hoping that anyone who might have information about the man in the photograph or other Native participants in the 1937 exposition will get in touch! With such interventions, perhaps art history can help to make the inclusiveness promised by muralism a reality.

[1] Carlyle Burrows, “A New Project in Modern Decoration: The Stage Coach and the Pony Express,” New York Herald Tribune, August 1, 1937, F6.

[2] Art historian Emily Burns notes that the man’s dress appears to be a composite of clothing from a number of different Native nations. The headdress, for example, is typical of Plains rather than southwestern cultures. It thus constitutes a kind of Native American “intern-nationalism” against the backdrop of the International Exposition. Emily Burns, email message to the author, September 30, 2020.

[3] “With Latin Quarter Folk,” Folder “1926,” Private Archive of Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, St. Louis, MO.

[4] Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, “Eduard Buk Ulreich: A Brief History,” n.d., Folder “Buk Autobiography,” Private Archive of Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, St. Louis, MO; “Story of the Indian Ornament for the American Exposition Building at Paris, France,” n.d., Folder “1937,” Private Archive of Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, St. Louis, MO.

[5] The term “katsina” (plural “katsinam”) is preferred.

[6] Members often prefer the name “Diné” to Navajo.

[7] Francis Smith, “Brilliant Murals Portray Lore of U.S. Indains at Exposition,” Paris Herald, July 27, 1937, Private Archive of Eduard “Buk” Ulreich, St. Louis, MO.

[8] “Interior Painting & Murals,” n.d., Series 15, Box 7, Folder 15-74, Century of Progress World’s Fair, 1933-1934 (University of Illinois at Chicago).

[9] See Jennifer McLerran, A New Deal for Native Art: Indian Arts and Federal Policy, 1933-1943 (Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2012), 164.

Davida Fernandez-Barkan is a Ph.D. candidate in History of Art and Architecture at Harvard University and was a Smithsonian Institution Predoctoral Fellow at the Smithsonian American Art Museum during the 2019–20 academic year. She holds an A.B. and M.A. in History of Art and Architecture from Harvard and an M.A. in Curating the Art Museum from The Courtauld Institute of Art. She has worked or interned in curatorial departments at the Harvard Art Museums, the Centre Georges Pompidou, the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, the National Gallery of Art, Tate Britain, and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden. Her work appeared in the most recent issue of the journal Public Art Dialogue. Her dissertation is titled, “Mural Diplomacy: Mexico, the United States, and France at the 1937 International Exposition in Paris.” She is currently a Center for Advanced Study in the Visual Arts (CASVA) David E. Finley Fellow (2020–23).

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war--lords · 6 years ago

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Inspired by summer: Beach time with the MC and instead of hc would it be ok to ask for lil drabbles? Shingen, Nobu (my king), Ieyasu, and Masamune perhaps?

I hope I’m doing this right! Speaking of, it’s so hot over here ;;

Warlords, MC, and an empty beach.

Masamune (inspired by Glam Off with Masamune)

“Damn, it’s cold,” you say, shivering, but a juxtaposing grin is on your face. Masamune stands in front of you, cackling with laughter at your now drenched hair and clothes. Your lover is equally as wet as you, perhaps even more. He embraces the cling of his kimono on his tanned skin, rolling up the hem of his sleeves and hakama to let him move freely.

“Stop it! You jerk,” you yell good-naturedly when Masamune gives you another splash, hitting your torso. You retaliate with your own, slapping his face, and you laugh when he garbles nonsense when the saltwater hits him.

“Your fault for starting it, Kitten!” he replies. With a predatory smirk he marches toward you and attacks, consecutive torrential splashes crash against various spots in your body and you are forced to retreat. Unfortunately the kimono you’re wearing hinders your steps, and you fall victim to Masamune’s uncompromising assault.

“Ohmygodohmygo—pfft!” You hear him snickering as you spit out seawater. “Yield! I yield!”

“Hahah! Finally!” Your lover pumps his fist in excitement, yet he doesn’t stop coming after you. After a few splish-sploshes of his approaching footsteps, he tackles you into a great hug, this time attacking you with a series of kisses on your face before finally planting one deep kiss on your lips.

You part, slightly breathless, and then you whisper with a smile, “I’m sopping wet.”

“You like it, though,” he chuckles, nuzzling your nose.

“Can’t say I don’t.”

“That’s my kitten,” he says, voice dropping an octave before you feel his lips pressing against yours again. When he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes scan your body, taking in the way the kimono fabric sticks to your skin and accentuating your outline.

“You look ravishing,” he comments. You can’t help but blush, averting your gaze away only to have him kiss your jaw.

“Why does every situation end up like this with you?” You ask, trying to sound like you’re complaining. Masamune scoffs, continuing his kisses down to your neck.

“You like it, though.”

Nobunaga

“Aren’t you going to get in the water?” You ask, smiling gently at your lover. Nobunaga, even on this miraculous off-day, still looks regal as ever, his white haori swishing slightly behind him like a cape in the wind. He smiles back at you from a distance, enjoying the sight of you with the bottom of your yukata scrunched up to reveal your bare calves, the water almost reaching your knees. It’s not everyday he gets to see your exposed skin in public.

“In a moment. I’m having a good time just spectating from over here,” he answers, his usually stern voice carrying a certain softness to it. You shrug a shoulder before deciding to dip your hands in the water, watching as they sway gently with every crash of wave.

“Oooh, it feels really good,” you announce. You hear Nobunaga chuckling behind you and turn around. He really is just looking at you. Somehow it makes you kind of embarrassed.

“Is the water to your liking?”

“Yes, it’s cool. Very comforting in the sweltering heat. Would you like to try?” You ask back, attempting to invite him in. Perhaps the Devil King Nobunaga dislikes getting wet, you wonder.

“Not yet. Perhaps in a few—”

“AHH!”

A larger wave crashes over you, making your legs wobble slightly. You’re suddenly wet, a portion of your body effectively drenched by the wave. Thankfully you’re not entirely wet, you didn’t bring any change of clothes, after all. Nobunaga laughs. As you walk your way back to him on the sand, careful of any other waves, you revel in the sound of his voice. He rarely laughs in the open like this, and one would think that he’d have a villainous laugh, thanks to his reputation, but… it’s quite the contrary.

“Hope you’re having a good time mocking me,” you say playfully. He welcomes you in his arms despite your condition. You are the one that is surprised. “Aren’t you going to get wet, too, Nobunaga?”

From your face against his chest, you can feel the rumble of his laugh slowing down to a chuckle. “So what if I get wet?” He replies rhetorically, stroking your back above the damp fabric.

You hum in response, placing a hand on his firm chest. He’s warm.

Ieyasu

Ieyasu looks on as you trot towards a stack of sticks and wood, much like how his pet deer would trot towards people. Your geta sandals are resting nearby, leaving you barefoot on the hot sand. Openly, he’d call your steps awkward, but he honestly finds it cute to look at you like that. You’re back a few moments later with two sticks in hand, broken off from a tree branch washed up on the shore.

His gaze is questioning enough, he assumes, because you start explaining. “In my time, people would occasionally draw or write stuff on sand. Here’s yours, hold it. Let me demonstrate.”

Again, your boyfriend watches as you begin with a few strokes, and he deduces you’re working on a rather large drawing. A few curves here and there, some angular shapes, and after two dots and a smile, you grin.

“Ta-daah!”

Ieyasu’s gaze softens as he examines your sand drawing. “Is that… Wasabi?”

“Correct! I can’t believe you got it! I suppose I’m not that bad at drawing animals, huh.”

Ieyasu doesn’t know why you aren’t so confident with your drawing skills. You’re a seamstress, after all. He has seen some of your illustrations, and although they don’t look like the typical visuals of the time (which is a given, considering your modern origins), he finds them charming nevertheless. The waves splash gently, only barely reaching the hooves in your drawing of Wasabi.

“Oh, I know.” You murmur, suddenly moving to the spot next to you.

He realizes that you are scrawling his name on the sand… followed by yours… and some sort of symbol in between.

“What does… that mean?”

“It’s called a ‘heart’!” You explain, slightly bashful. “It’s not meant to represent how the organ looks like, but it symbolizes the feeling of love. In this context, it’s the feeling of love shared between two people.”

A beat.

“Stop grinning like that, (Name), you’re making me want to kiss you.”

Shingen

The bamboo mat he carried from Tsutsujigasaki is now spread on the sand, the two of you sitting on top of it without worrying about the state of your clothing. Shingen looks at you as you finish up laying down a small wooden table and two small cups. You gaze back at him, two empty hands signaling for him to bring something over. He hands you the bottle of sake next to him.

“Pouring for me?”

“Of course,” you answer, a teasing smile on your face. He cherishes each curve of your lips, thinking them lovely and beyond appealing. “Have I never not poured for you, Shingen?”

“What did I do to deserve attention from someone as lovely as you?”

You chuckle, handing him the cup. He drinks diligently. “Still flirting with me, I see. Though I suppose it’s my fault, too. I don’t know why those lines still work on me.”

He shares a small laugh with you, the deep rumble of his voice making you melt even more in the arms of your lover. “If the day ever comes when you won’t respond to my words anymore, that would be troubling.”

“Dare I ask why?” You reply, the smile on your face already anticipating the punchline.

“Well, then I’m forced to always use my body to tell you I love you,” he says, planting a sensual kiss on the swoop of your neck. You redden, not really expecting a… scandalous answer, though you really should be less naive. Shingen strokes the exposed nape of your neck, taking advantage of your updo, and you shiver.

“Shingen…”

“Yes, my love?”

“We’re supposed to watch the sunset.”

“Aren’t we watching it now?”

“Well…”

“Focus on the scenery if you so wish.. I have something more beautiful to attend to.” With that, he gently tugs at the collar of your kimono, revealing more of the bare skin around your collarbone.

“You sly fox.”

“I’m not the fox around here, darling.”

#sfw #nobunaga #masamune #ieyasu #shingen #oda nobunaga #date masamune #tokugawa ieyasu #takeda shingen #reader insert #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #nobunaga x reader #ieyasu x reader #shingen x reader #masamune x reader #cybird #scenario #imagine

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seenashwrite · 6 years ago

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I feel inept (or worse) with everything I have ever created. How can writers get to the point of confidence and certainty with their works? Is it worth trying to please the masses when we can't please ourselves? Am I poking the bear? It just seems you are a voice of discernment and I am trying to ask the write questions.

This is a tricky kebab to de-skewer, it’s stacked. But not impossible to stomach. It is not, after all, an alt-world crispy lizard.

Cool your jets, Sammy.

Hopefully it’ll be of relief to know that I’m not going to tell you to write because it makes you happy, and write for you, and then the readers will come. Not because it’s not true, but (a) because you know that, and (b) because it’s a bit of a pat answer. Touching on the second part of your question briefly - the whole chumming the water scenario - hypothetically, were you to do this, I waffle in my speculations as to what degree it would be successful due to the doldrums.

Whether it’s cookbook fic or the quality stuff you’re aiming for, people will be able to tell if you’re going through the motions. Well, some won’t, because they aren’t, um, discerning, to borrow your word, and others are just reading for some time-killing fun, and there’s a subset of those folks with wicked senses of humor, so the worse the fic, the better. Having said that, I’m a big proponent of assuming all readers are witty and intelligent, and via the writing, I’m going to treat them as such, and so they’ll know if I’m not feeling it.

So. Back to that ineptitude feeling part. Spoiler alert: I can’t fix this…

Double spoiler alert: …but you totes can…

Triple spoiler alert: …and there’s some concrete steps you can take to do it vs. trying to Tinkerbell it away with thinking happy thoughts. Because, blerrrgh. Fairies. Nah. #Dean approved

Oh, and also? Since I picked this scab off-and-on over the course of 36 hours when things I wanted to say popped to mind, it mutated. We shall split this into two posts.

Part One: So Do I Just Blow At This Fanfic Stuff?

PS: Dunno if you “know” me, but FYI this should hopefully be an easy read with lotsa snark and gifs interspersed and, oh yeah, potty mouth.

C/P for convenience:

“I feel inept (or worse) with everything I have ever created. How can writers get to the point of confidence and certainty with their works?”

I’m gonna ask a rhetorical question that’s yours to answer, because no one else can:

Why is that?

I mean in an objective sense, not in a blanket sense of “Well, Nash, you dumb bitch, my self-confidence blows”; what I’m driving at are the non-emotional factors. If we go emotion, you’re gonna start subconsciously lumping things in with the writing part (i/e - putting blame on yourself for other areas of life where you perceive yourself as not being “good enough”), so we should go the other route. Make this as fact-based as possible.

What facts are you basing this on? Do you publish stuff, and not get a lot of hearts/notes/reblogs/followers/etc.? What’re your metrics? Put plainly: Is this you being hard on yourself, or is there something concrete to back it up?

(A person who can’t act, for instance, should probably find something else to do after 20 years of auditioning with no parts. An artist who hasn’t been featured in a show or sold one painting. A chef who can’t make it past the line to sous. You get what I’m saying. There’s undeniable evidence there, because after a lengthy period of time, the chances that no casting director, no curator, and no head chef have picked up on the prowess of these special snowflakes is virtually nil. They blow. Their confidence has morphed into delusion. They need to accept they should stop trying to make fetch happen.)

Now, based upon this—

“Is it worth trying to please the masses when we can’t please ourselves?”

—I’m assuming that’s the case, that part about you having something concrete driving at least part of your self-assessment. My interpretation of your statement (and correct me if I’m not tracking with you) is that you think your style isn’t appealing to majority of the readership ‘round here, ergo it’s feeding this feeling of ineptitude. I can’t offer advice on fixing what other life aspects could be acting as the base of that feeling, but the pile-on feeling from the writing aspect of it, that we can work with.

I’d have to have more information to make a detailed, precise call on whether this is a skill-based scenario, namely - assuming you trust my tastes to a degree - reading your stuff. Which isn’t likely to happen unless you’ve got a sneaky way of recommending it to me via a friend or something a good bit of time from now when this isn’t fresh on my mind*, because I can’t know who you are or connect it to this conversation, or we’re automatically injecting bias.

(*It would have to be a really, really, really long time from now; I have a pretty sharp memory; it’d need to be too far out to be helpful for you in the near future.)

What I can tell about you without reading any of your stories is that you are above average in intelligence and are well-educated, whether formally or self-taught, based upon the words you used and how they are used - and if you thesaurus'ed it, you’re smart enough not to pick glaringly extravagant words - and you were succinct and expressed the issue well, with sincere concern that didn’t go all sad-sack Eeyore.

You can write.

But can you tell a story? Can you capture the essence of known characters and present this with accuracy? Do you have original ideas, which you can distill into interesting plots? Etc.? Again, I can’t know for sure. Now, a way that you could get a taste of what I’d call you on were I acting as your editor?

There is a *plethora* of objective criteria over at The Nail’s HQ, and I’ve recently re-done the pages so they are mobile-friendly (bless octomoosey and his brilliant designs). Like, seriously - they look okay on my laptop and huge-ass desktop monitor, but baby do they shine on phones. #bless octomoosey part deux The foundation of all of it comes from advice from pros, and whether I/we personally like their stuff or not, they’ve all been highly successful and managed to appeal to the masses while keeping a high bar. They don’t cater to the lowest common denominator. And even though I personally may not love all the fics I put on The Nail in a given edition (‘ships, too shmoopy, too angsty, whatever), they’re solidly hitting, at minimum, at least three of those “guiding standards”.

Great, so, there’s Nash’s Edit Yourself At Home! kit… which brings me to a disclaimer.

I don’t have mass appeal.

What I do have is a solid, loyal reader base who gives me phenomenal feedback (a handful of them giving me fantastic constructive critique when needed) on the reg, and I couldn’t ask for more. And because I am human and I like knowing people dig what I make and because, as a grown-ass adult, I am capable of assigning value to and caring about two or more things at the same time, I would also totes ask for more - not of them, I mean I’d like more people to join in. I would love to have that lil’ bottom left hand corner sporting a number in the hundreds within the day of publish. That’s motivating. That’s telling me people are into what I make. That’s telling me I am super good at—–

Wait.

That last bit… Does it? Mean that I’m super-good at it? Does that metric alone paint a good picture of my talent? Hmmmm. Well. How to put.

Oh, but fuck no.

And if that “oh, but fuck no” didn’t serve as a tonal lead-in, let me be clear that this is the part where Nash Shoves Logic Into The Closet And Locks The Door For A Minute, And Vents Her Frustrations, With Which You And Others Reading This Could Perhaps Empathize And Are Giving Me Virtual High Fives And Yasss Gurrrrl-s Through The Screen At Completion Of Rant.

[clears throat]

Have you seen some of the absolute garbage that screams through the Tumblrsphere like a cat with a bell on its tail? Holy moses, is it shit. Same shit, different title. One example of the problems: I don’t recognize Sam or Dean more than half the time. Then I see a bazillionty notes on it, a bunch of feedback on folks’ reblogs, ask-kissing©℗™ talking about how the writer captured the guys so perfectly, and they seemed just like they are in the show and… and… and… and… and I’m all:

ARE WE WATCHING THE SAME SHOW?!?! The men in many of these stories are mannequins/Real Dolls with the faces of JA and JP slapped atop. They are what the writers want them to be, not what the characters are, and it’s lazy because we have 13-odd years of scripts and visuals to glean from, and it takes consideration and practice to pull it off.

Same goes for working a reader insert, making that person juuuuust vague enough so that readers can actually, um, picture themselves in the role. But what do we get instead? Most of the time there is zero depth to ol’ Y/N. Zip. Nada. She’s so tough, she’s nigh on invulnerable (until she’s not, so she can be saved, and the Mannequin can pine in the meantime), or she’s so fragile and mousy and immature I wanna cunt punt her, or she’s the perfect pussy with next to no flaws, and regardless she’s getting moved into the bunker with an engagement ring and/or Winchester fetus,and ermahgerd, total window-closers.

But they’re clearly doing something right, and they took the time to give us a story free of charge, and….and…. and yet….

(I am aware I am abusing those gifs of late, I’ll get through it, but today is not that day)

Okay, okay, okay, what does this have to do with you - the answer is that you can actually use these atomic farts as a handbook, as well (which ties into Pt.2 of the question, and we’ll get there. Eventually.), assuming you decide you don’t want to chum the waters, and want to do your thing.

(1) The Nail pages are gonna give you some objective things to work with and aim for;

(2) those truly inept, supposedly based-upon-SPN stories are gonna give you some objective things to avoid like the plague;

And that combo will hopefully….

(3) get a draft out of you that has you sitting back and going, “I’m not 100% that this is gold, but I’ve sure got something shiny, here.”

It’s a feeling of trepidation, it’s not your ultimate goal of “confidence and certainty with [my] works”, but we’ve stepped out of the feeling of ineptitude, and that’s the point. You didn’t arrive at feeling inept overnight, that kebab’s got about four or five veg before it gets to the meat (and several are onions, always with the onions, MORE RED PEPPERS, UNCLE HANK!), so you’re not gonna get to that nice thick sirloin in one sitting, either.

Say, are you a vegetarian? This non-tofu kebab metaphor may be falling flat if so. But transparency and all, I confess I’d rather have alt-world lizard kebab than tofu. Dean, what say you?

He feels me.

One way you’re going to start feeling certain in your works—-

and listen, you know this, but I’ll say it anyway: nobody’s ever 100% certain

—-is when people zero in on specific things you did right, and if they stood out to a reader, they likely stood out to you, so it’s gonna be all “YES!” in your head. When this starts happening, make two documents:

(1) Fic_Feedback_Yes- sort the (positive, praising, specific-things-noted) comments by story - copy them verbatim- read whenever ineptitude feels start creeping back whilst writing/editing story

(2) Fic_Feedback_No- sort the (constructive critique, helpful, specific-things-noted) comments by story - copy them verbatim- read whenever ineptitude feels start creeping back whilst writing/editing story

“Nash, that’s the same fucking thing,” you say.

Yeah, I know. We ain’t here for ego-feeding, we’re here for confidence, and we don’t get confidence without being aware of not just what we’re nailing, but also of our Achilles’ heels. I joke about “filling the ol’ ego tank”, but it’s legit not an ego thing. Ego things we’re going to touch on in Pt. 2, how it can blind us, and then we’re cranking out stuff that, when cut into, is a dried husk like that turkey in Christmas Vacation.

(WHY do I keep talking about meat)

So, here we are, back to the numbers. Assuming we get you to mild trepidation stage - normal for writers getting into their groove - how do we get you to the point where your stuff is yielding commentary for your docs, for your growth?

Well, that won’t happen right away, people have to get a feel of you beyond your stories (we’ll talk about that in Pt. 2, as well), so initially it’s going to manifest as hitting the heart, maybe some generic “This is awesome!”-s, maybe some reblogs without commentary, and that’s typical, and we’ll take it, it still goes into your “Mass Appeal” metrics, lets you know you’re getting closer to a broader readership, that you’ve done something/several somethings right….

….which is a nice place to stop Part One. 😉

PART TWO

#Dear Nash #NONNERS #Not Tyler Durden #I swear #Writing Stuff #Writing Advice #Writing Tips #I know I said #I was taking a vaca #from giving writing advice #but this is a big one #that a lot of peeps #can relate to #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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gd-260-taylor-belyea · 3 years ago

Photo

*I was triple checking my scavenger hunt submissions and it appears when you click the link to this post, the infographic comes up really fuzzy and unreadable. It looks completely clear on my backend, and I’m not 100% sure how to fix it, so if you need a closer look at the infographic please see this website: https://infographicjournal.com/u-s-gun-usage-death-statistics/ sorry and thank you!*

1. A piece of “data visualization” or an infographic: This infographic clearly has a bias/slant in favor of guns. They are trying to make guns appear less dangerous than people often perceive them to be by looking at “US Gun Usage and Death Statistics”. Their bias is displayed through the intentional way the information and statistics were chosen to be represented. First the category of comparing “deaths”. Obviously, there are many ways to do and many ways people do die every year, so this category is a massive lens to look at gun violence through. In my opinion the counter, “anti-gun” argument hasn’t necessarily been that guns kill hundreds of thousands of people every year in the U.S., but the context in which/the reasons why gun violence occurs. This infographic has no mention of suicides, school shootings specifically, or anything about demographics and who is disproportionately affected by gun homicides and violence. Also, while it details the percentage of gun users, it has no percentages of how many of those users struggle with serious mental illnesses, what sort of background checks they went through, etc. Another element of deception at play in this infographic is the failure to define things. What exactly does death by “tobacco” mean? Smoking-related cancer? If this is the case, it is not clearly stated in the infographic. What about medical errors? What does that mean? What if the medical error was complications with a gunshot wound? (that’s obviously a hypothetical but still, things to think about/question when clear definitions aren’t provided). In the case of death by “tobacco”, I feel as though the designer intentionally chose to use a less emotionally charged word like “tobacco” rather than smoking or cancer, to almost say “hey, something as causal as a cigarette is far more dangerous than a deadly assault weapon”. Same thing applies to the alcohol abuse category or the unintentional injuries category, which is almost comically paired with a icon of a pair of crutches, as if someone who is dead from and unintentional injury needs crutches to walk... (an unintentional injury is most likely stuff like, someone falling to their death off a ladder, not a sprained ankle). Again, it’s just another rhetorical tactic used to dwarf the serious power and potential firearms hold. Aside from the rhetorical and content choices, there are also some visual tricks at play. My favorite is the one under the category “Gun Ownership and Violent Gun Related Crimes Over Time”. The stack of gun icons signifying the number of guns owned in 1994 is labeled at 200 million, with 6 gun icons stacked on top of it, but then the number of guns owned in 2011 sits at 300 million, with 12 gun icons stacked on top of it, insinuating that the ownership doubled when in reality it didn’t. If it were an accurate measure, there would be 9 guns about the 300 million figure rather than 12. The infographic is just generally distracting and busy, the use of icons and symbols is excessive and draws attention away from some of the warped content being displayed.

Infographic retrieved from: https://infographicjournal.com/u-s-gun-usage-death-statistics/

2. A piece of design that is part of a larger identity system: The google identity system is SO successful, even beyond the screen. Their iconic digital identity system translates seamlessly into their retailing, with products like the Chromebook and Google Nest as photographed. You can immediately tell that a product is google upon looking at it. This is mainly because googles identity system is SO consistent, yet covers such a large swath of services, products, and information. One way in which this is achieved is through Google’s use of the same four hues: red, yellow, green, and blue, to create all of their icons, most oftentimes juxtaposed against a crisp white background. Their typeface is consistent throughout all of their branding, a sans serif typeface (Product Sans) that is fairly unassuming, but can pretty easily be distinguished as “the google typeface” as it was created by Google for Google. I personally think their use of icons and symbols is one of the most iconic things about them, they’re clean and simple and though it may take a minute to learn them all, once you become an active user you can immediately identify a google doc logo from a google spreadsheet logo with ease. The imagery is clean and user friendly and straight to the point. The kerning is consistent, fairly normal/tight, the alignment is always clean and straight—you never see vertical type, the use of caps is tasteful, the type (to my knowledge at least) is never all caps, there’s no message it’s trying to achieve it just wants to be a readable, user friendly typeface and format. The Google “G” and the chrome logos are both popular and consistent, so consistent and recognizable in fact that they can easily be used by other companies to signify a compatibility with google a google product, as shown in the 5th photo with the ANKER charging kit. In that example, the customer doesn’t even need to read that the charger is a Chromebook charger, they can just see that it says charger, and that it has the chrome logo, and they’re good to go.

(Post by Taylor Belyea, GD 260, Spring 2022)

#module6 #gd260

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tarrdirtwormni · 3 years ago

Text

Difference between microsoft project 2016 professional and standard 無料ダウンロード.Project をインストールする

Difference between microsoft project 2016 professional and standard 無料ダウンロード.Visual Studio

StandardとProfessional Plus、Officeアプリケーションの違い.Subtle Differences between Project Professional and Project Pro for Office

Earlier this year I posted a question around my experience with Project Professional and Project Pro for Office and the subtle differences between the two clients when connecting to Project Online.. I am returning to this topic to see if there have been any changes to the offerings from Microsoft as looking at my original post there were no responses Sep 21, · ボリュームライセンスとして提供されているOffice Standard (以下Standard)とOffice Professional Plus (以下Professional Plus)。最新のOfficeを導入する上でどちらを選べばいいのか迷われている方も多いでしょう。大切なのはまず2つのOfficeの違いを知ることですね。 Project Online Professional または Project Online Premium: クラウドベースの Project のソリューションのうち、いずれかのサブスクリプションがある場合、割り当て済みのライセンスを入手するまで、インストールのオプションは表示されません。。ライセンスの割り当てを担当するMicrosoft 管理者である

Difference between microsoft project 2016 professional and standard 無料ダウンロード.Project をインストールする

This annual subscription includes access to core Microsoft software, Azure credits and discounted pricing, collaboration services, technical training, professional support, and more. Leverage our most comprehensive set of tools, services, and benefits to design, build, debug, test, and deploy complex applications for any platform, including the Microsoft stack Sep 21, · ボリュームライセンスとして提供されているOffice Standard (以下Standard)とOffice Professional Plus (以下Professional Plus)。最新のOfficeを導入する上でどちらを選べばいいのか迷われている方も多いでしょう。大切なのはまず2つのOfficeの違いを知ることですね。 Project Online Professional または Project Online Premium: クラウドベースの Project のソリューションのうち、いずれかのサブスクリプションがある場合、割り当て済みのライセンスを入手するまで、インストールのオプションは表示されません。。ライセンスの割り当てを担当するMicrosoft 管理者である

My experience was that whilst I could connect from Project Professional to Project Online there were some features that were unavailable to me - editing Enterprise Resources in Project Professional and more seriously, edit Enterprise Calendars. I can live with making basic edits to Resources in the browser client however being unable to edit an existing or new Enterprise Calendar could be a show stopper.

My reason for returning to this topic is that I am now working with an organisation where the ability to download applications from the Office Portal is disabled. Applications are available to users to install via an internal tool.

My concern is that in this scenario with no ability to obtain the default client for use with Project Online will users be deprived of some features as per my experience or have Microsoft changed how Project Professional integrates with Project Online since my original posting?

Alternately do Microsoft make the Pro for Office available to organisations to deploy in cases where downloading from the Office Portal is disabled?

The update frequency. O is updated based upon the Update Channel your organisation subscribes to. Project Professional is updated as per Microsoft Update service packs etc.

Ben Howard [MVP] web blog book. Thanks for your swift answer, it reminds me of the rhetorical question "what's the difference between theory and practise? The one with Project Pro for Office could edit Enterprise Resources and Enterprise Calendars, the one with Project Professional installed could not. As soon as the compromised user replaced Project Professional with Project Pro for Office these two problems were resolved.

Is there any way of finding out what updates have been issued for Project Professional in the past 12 months and what issues these updates addressed? I am concerned that the issue I encountered persists and that it could result in one important option Edit Enterprise Calendars being unavailable.

com CPS MVP Downloads. TechNet Products IT Resources Downloads Training Support Products Windows Windows Server System Center Microsoft Edge. Office Office Exchange Server. SQL Server SharePoint Products Skype for Business See all products ». Resources Channel 9 Video Evaluation Center Learning Resources Microsoft Tech Companion App Microsoft Technical Communities Microsoft Virtual Academy Script Center Server and Tools Blogs TechNet Blogs.

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Certifications Certification overview Special offers MCSE Cloud Platform and Infrastructure MCSE: Mobility MCSE: Data Management and Analytics MCSE Productivity. Other resources Microsoft Events Exam Replay Born To Learn blog Find technical communities in your area Azure training Official Practice Tests. Support options For business For developers For IT professionals For technical support Support offerings.

Not an IT pro? Microsoft Customer Support Microsoft Community Forums. Sign in. United States English. Home Other Versions Library Forums Gallery. Ask a question. Quick access. Search related threads. Remove From My Forums. Asked by:. Archived Forums. Project Online General Questions and Answers.

com would be the more appropriate place for your questions. Sign in to vote. I suspect that other organisations employ a similar approach to providing applications to users. With good wishes, Dominic Microsoft Project Evangelist Twitter: LinkedIn: Web:. Wednesday, August 23, PM. Hi Dom, The only differences between Project Pro for O and Project Professional are The licencing perpetual vs subscription 2.

Aside from any differences in functionality provided by 2. above, the products are the same. Hi Ben, Thanks for your swift answer, it reminds me of the rhetorical question "what's the difference between theory and practise?

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kevins-hortatory-hub · 3 years ago

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cover page

i organized this page via tags - just pages that keep similar pieces of content together. so when i link a general category, it will be to the tag page, which will have the several relevant posts. quick inventory:

cover page (you are here!)

adapted/revised project 2 (can be found here)

project 3 (can be found here) (just the documents are here)

some writing artifacts (can be found here)

you can also just look at the sum of all of these things, in the reverse order i posted them, which will all be on the page that i linked as my submission if you scroll enough.

we find ourselves on tumblr because this is probably my primary social media platform, and i'm quite acclimated to its usage. i also just knew of it being able to host audio, embed images, etc. i could also create this page without having to register anything or think too hard. naturally, as we are in the online realm, i use my online voice.

an obvious theme across this content is music making, and particularly trying to pull apart and make cases as to where it is that the appeal of music lives. i also hope to exhibit general wonder and awe with respect to the richnesses of communication in music - you can notice two ends of a spectrum here, between the review of joanna newsom's incredibly verbose music and the intractable sound of liz fraser's voice.

the material from project 2 is revised to make better use of a rich text editing format. specifically, on tumblr, there is the ability to place inline images (quite easily, even) that i would hope make the review feel more sectional and digestible rather than a stack of text. it also felt particularly appropriate, as i usually post music reviews to my tumblr page (my other one) and i suppose i had forgotten to do that for this review - i think the blog-post feeling of tumblr is the most suitable for my review writing style, compared to the published feeling offered by rateyourmusic.

the material from project 3 is hosted here, and i would say a simple yet fundamental reason for that is that it's so annoying to host an audio file almost anywhere, and with tumblr i can just give you a link that has an mp3 file with no problems. additionally, the post that contains the audio file is able to have a labeling of the song and artist titles, as well as a cover photo. i thought it was an interesting paradigm. it sort of legitimized the thing for me - up until that moment of "publishing" it, it had felt like a near-scrap project. i also just enjoy the way that the block quote looks on tumblr, which was good for the phonetic transcription.

moreover, the fact of a song-plus-music-video just feels like a classic thing to be included in a portfolio. maybe some day down the line i'll have a proper website that has music and/or visual media embedded in it.

my work this semester fits in a long-stretching narrative as to my ability to complete artistic works. the only thing that was fully and truly unlike anything i had done before was the singing-outside-and-videoing-myself aspect of the project 3 video, but multiple times i impressed myself at the fact of a timely completion of a project (which is a rich thing to say for project 3 and this porfolio, sure, but i also feel that i shot pretty high as far as the ambition of it). we discuss the ability for different genre forms to interact with the rhetorical strength for an audience, but something critical here is that the formal existence and presentation of my projects sold them to me, myself as something valuable and worth completing. things like that fact of publishing the cocteau twins cover and giving it a name and title will be useful for me to think about in the future as i attempt to get more similar projects out into the world.

similarly, i'll keep thinking about the formality or informality, as well as design nuances, with regards to other creative projects, with respect to taking inventory of a rich communication that exists in my head and trying to express the shape of it in a familiar way.

thank you for reading !

#cover page

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ravi0541 · 4 years ago

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Livingroom Interior style concepts In Delhi & Noida NCR

Interior style concepts Designing a Livingroom Interior on your own isn't straightforward and here with the assistance of recent concepts, you'll simply style your Livingroom.

In any case, for people who ar enclosed advisedly all day, each day like House stunning printer Dshell Interior UN agency was exhausted once she came back home to associate degree invisible lady loft styling a lounge interior are often difficult. The lounge was the right place to include slightly of Dshell Interiors' refined, contemporary personal vogue, that complemented the Owner's own flushed and metal-loving atmosphere.

Despite the very fact that house at the start lacked temperament, it had a great deal of potentials. the insufficient format really had enough house for large furnishings, and there was an enormous divider that was for all intents and functions created to be a degree of convergence. a vast window let in bunches of common lightweight, the insufficient format really had enough house for large furnishings, and there was an enormous divider that was for all intents and functions created to be a degree of convergence. Continue reading to check the complete transformation, moreover as all of the trendy Bed bathtub and on the far side items that created the house sparkle.

Living Room Interior style is probably going the foremost vital house in your home, because it is crucial for true serenity, comfort, and bliss. A well-designed lounge ensures that you simply ar invigorated and revived for a healthy life. With such a large amount of folks choosing smaller homes, particularly for families, it is vital that you simply flip your snug lounge Interior into beautiful areas that mirror vogue, comfort, and polish. you'll cram a great deal of fashion into that tiny house and create it seem as luxurious as the other house with lots of sq. footage.

Here ar sixteen fantastic very little lounge rhetorical theme concepts which will rework your incommodious quarters into a tremendous commendable house.

Add tone to the lounge interior style

The best place to start once evaluating every stunt to form your incommodious quarter look immense on vogue is to contemplate the growth of tones. Truly, a touch tone will go a protracted approach toward conveyance life to your boring and lifeless setting. Previously, it absolutely was public knowledge that the lounge ought to use solely refined tones! it's, in any case, a flat legend. the inside style of a lounge are often gorgeous and colourful.

The fly of shading are often found on your divider, bed, drapery, pad, carpet, or the other item in your home. Also, do not stick with the neutral color palette; significantly on your dividers, do not stick with the quality cream, dark, and white; manipulate with colours and incorporate some intense tones in items.

Also, attempt decorating your bed with bright colours, distinctive chrome pads, dark-toned floor coverings, and color-toned racks to form your tiny house feel additional spacious and palatial. The explosion of tones in your lounge Interior also can create your long-run task of obtaining out of bed easier and energize you to face the day with a positive perspective. As a result, experiment along with your shading decisions and find the shades sprinkling!

Use multi-functional accessories

Brilliant arrangements ar needed in tiny areas. Is that correct? This signaled the arrival of multifunctional furnishings, which might perform multiple tasks and fulfill multiple functions at an equivalent time. once your lounge Interior is proscribed in house, victimization such convertible multifunctional furnishings items will assist you attain the foremost flexibility at intervals your four walls and attain all distinction in your smaller house.

For example, you'll opt for furnishings with integral capacities, like beds with facet drawers or beds with additional house at a lower place the bedding. These furnishings items offer a great deal of additional house at a lower place the sleeping pad, permitting you to store additional covers, pads, bed sheets, winter clothes, or anything that you simply will not have to be compelled to access oftentimes. consequent choice is to use collapsible furnishings, like a collapsible bed or a collapsible table, that performs its operate once required then disappears into the corner till you would like it once more.

These items of furnishings not solely save floor house and supply lots of area to maneuver around, however they additionally facilitate your area have a twin existence. apart from furnishings, you'll additionally opt for rhetorical theme items that serve twin functions, like a stepping stool that stores your high picks whereas additionally serving as a feature to show your prized collectibles.

Play with Contrasts

When it involves spicing up the planning of your tiny lounge Interior, fidgeting with contrasts is often a certainty. Differentiation may be a mysterious fix that may add a great deal of visual interest to atiny low house by conveyance opposing energies along. The in-home rhetorical theme "contrast" does not continually imply a mixture of shades; you'll produce distinction in nearly something directly, from surfaces, extents, and shapes to designs, examples, and styles – the probabilities ar limitless.

Bringing 2 differentiating parts along in shut proximity blends visual interest and creates a definite center of attention for the viewer by making a degree of convergence within the area. Contrasts, on the opposite hand, ar absolute to pique your interest. launched to analysis and procure a rhetorical theme that's wealthy in contrasts heat and chilly, of all shapes and sizes, delicate and laborious, lightweight and boring on your divider, on your cowl, on your draperies, on your carpet, and all over else.

Also, confine mind that once operating with contrasts, balance is essential. a perfect balance of the 2 parts in concordance is often in the course of a beautiful distinction, with neither outperforming the opposite.

Become insignificant

Become a moderate; gravitating toward a moderate rhetorical style will work wonders for your tiny lounge Interior. however would you determine a "moderate rhetorical theme" before we have a tendency to get started? Is it implying obtaining obviate the products and action the hefty gauge for your eyes?

No, it isn't true. It follows the quality recommendation of "acquire the basics and discard the remainder. Take a glance around and raise yourself, "What ar the fundamentals?" Do they really realize an area to sit down in your room? Is there a necessity for his or her reality? they ought to be gotten out if they are not already. Indeed, if you genuinely have to be compelled to settle for the moderate vogue, stick with the “toning it down would be ideal” rule.

Give everything an area in your lounge and also the motivation to maneuver forward. That said, do not expect your lounge to own associate degree domineering rhetorical theme with straightforward and dull things. once done properly, moderate vogue will rework your lounge into one thing beautiful, warm, rich, and alluring, with a refined and swish look.

Create vertical storage

Do you savvy abundant undiscovered vertical house you have got in your incommodious quarter? contemplate the unused divider on top of your bed's panel, the unused stretch close to your window, the right-calculated breadth within the empty corners and alcoves, and some different unused spots.

When used properly, every of those areas takes up zero sq. feet whereas adding more sq. feet to your current additional area, helping you in unlocking your Living Room's true storage potential. Introduce divider-mounted coasting racks to fill in these empty vertical areas and place them to use.

You can additionally outfit the house with a range of hooks and rails on the sting of your lounge dividers to form a redesigned zone for your garments and different adornments. once your smaller area gets some additional house, you will not have to be compelled to check out your stacked storage room, that is sort of full to the brim.

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rhetorical-ink · 7 years ago

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Rhetorical Ink: “Blade Runner 2049″ Review

**SHARP SCI-FI SPOILERS BELOW**

The Original Blade Runner is one of my favorite Sci-Fi films, so on the one hand, I am really excited to see this film. On the other hand, though, sequels always scare me, especially for films I really, really liked. Let’s see how this stacks up with:

My Top Ten Thoughts on Blade Runner 2049:

10. Thank goodness for the Internet, because that opening scrawl was atrocious to try and read on my own. That said, the world building in the film already is just gorgeous and so expansive from the original in terms of light and colors already. I get that the original Blade Runner was supposed to seem grainy and noir, but this one does a good job of keeping that vibe while having a modern cinematography.

9. The opening scene gives me such nostalgia as Mr. Morton reminds me much of the man in the opening of the original, and Ryan Gosling cements that cold unnerved attitude. But...I mean...that man just threw Gosling through a wall -- OH! So Gosling’s character IS a replicant! Holy mole, okay, so no beating around the bush there. That does explain a lot of his cold, calculated demeanor.

8. Is he in a relationship with Alexis?! I almost laughed at that -- it makes so much sense with his situation and personality -- of course, this is a bit more... advanced of a version of Alexis. The more you watch, though, the more empty and sad the situation kind of is...I mean, she’s just a piece of artificial intelligence...and the relationship and scene in the rain with “Kay” (Gosling) is sweet, but sort of sad because you know it can never be as intimate as they may want it to be.

7. Oh SNAP! Mr. Morton has buried a female that died in childbirth...that was also a replicant. SAY WHAT?! I really like Robin Wright’s performance here in the scene after they find that out. She is a great not-so-antagonisty-antagonist. Her line about him not having a “soul” too is delivered perfectly too...poor Replicant Kay. “I’ve never retired anything that’s been born before.” That line. Dang.

6. Of COURSE it is Rachel that was pregnant -- while I’m sad that she’s dead in this, can we launch all of the fan fictions now calling that it’s Deckard’s baby, because there’s no way it’s that Morton’s baby! Let’s be honest!

5. Leto’s performance is downright creepy where he is introduced, and Love is clearly his devoted servent -- I’m not sure the purpose of the “Birthday” replicant if she was instantly killed after being born, but now we have a plot -- Mr. Wallace wants the child of the replicant Rachel, since he can only make so many replicants and wants them to take over "the stars.”

4. The technology is stunning in this, as is the camera work, colors, and overall feel of the story. I really like Gosling’s conversations with “Joi” and the mystery deepens! While the pacing can seem slow, I feel myself drawn in -- you’re sucked into the world-building and we’ve not even got to Harrison Ford yet!

Also, Gosling’s turmoil and Joi’s passion at the prospect of him being “born” was compelling and made their chemistry that much more potent.

3. Let it be known that all of the cast give stellar performances here! I just love everyone’s acting job! Leto’s conversation with Harrison Ford is just fantastic -- Harrison is so “real” (no pun intended) here, and Leto showing him the skull of Rachael is just so creepy and weird...all of the actors are on point and none of them fell flat for me.

2. As for the plot line -- the reveal of the burned horse was slow but an effective burn. Gosling as Rachel’s child, supposedly -- and then the reveal that he’s not -- I knew it was Stelline from the get-go, but Gosling’s performance and conviction throughout the film is fantastic. And of course, he dies in the end to let Deckard see his daughter.

1. The movie is gorgeous to watch and I wish I’d seen it on the big screen. Yes, it is a slow burn of a film, but it rewards you as you watch with not only stellar visuals, but great acting, and a very worthy plot for the Blade Runner sequel. I highly recommend this film! Just know what you’re getting into and you will likely love it as I have!

#Blade Runner #Blade Runner 2049 #Blade Runner 2049 spoilers #spoiler review #Rhetorical Ink #Rhetorical ink reviews #my top 10 thoughts

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morethanjustmediocremusings · 5 years ago

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In the Details: A Deeper Look into Euphoria’s Prom Looks

Taylor Abouzeid

California Polytechnic State University San Luis Obispo

Created in a social climate marked with the upheaval of traditional standards and a call to action sung by today’s ready-to-riot young adults, Euphoria came into a world ridden with daunting social issues. Amidst the reigning chaos of the real world, Euphoria followed the debatably hyper-realistic lives of modern high schoolers. This HBO series was highly regarded for its diverse cast and variety of explored topics. Furthermore, throughout the length of the premiere season, Euphoria retained attention from the press with its highly colorful and expressive use of fashion. To fully understand the weight of these garments, one must first look to the concept creation, then to the habitat through which the ideas were fostered, and finally step into the light of the underlying messages behind layers of mesh shirts and mountains of gender ambiguous dressing. Euphoria used visual clothing cues in their final episode “And Salt the Earth Behind you” to shed light on each character’s fully developed significance and purpose within the show given its highly pertinent cultural context.

Euphoria has come to represent an entire generation. The struggles that the characters face are directly out of pages in our own diaries and journals. Hunter Schafer, who plays Jules in the show, praised the reality of it all saying, “It’s the most current representation of high school” (Nissen, 2019). The current climate of teen life is reflected without the Hollywood glamour that was once acceptable with shows such as 90210 and Gossip Girl. Gone are the days of unrealistic teenage clubbing and drawn-out heartbreak between a jock and a cheerleader. Instead, audiences want to see the poignancy of reality on their screens. In a society that values honesty and vulnerability, Euphoria holds a mirror to our generation’s unique experiences without sugar coating topics of necessary discussion; however, due to the deeply embedded nature of these signals, they could easily be overlooked. By taking a magnifying glass to the distinct looks of the finale, subtle messages can be brought to light and further the identification with its’ viewers. Kenneth Burke believed that rhetoric was aimed at creating identification with an audience rather than aimed at persuading an audience (Kolodziejski, 2019, Pentadic). Furthermore, due to the show’s success, it is easy to assume that many people have come to identify with its messages. It is important to analyze and understand the messages behind these looks because they are representative of an entirety of people, marching to a silent beat of radical self-worth.

Within Euphoria the very real stories of the characters hit home for many viewers. Levinson worked rigorously to diminish any potential glamorization of drug use in the show saying “somewhere around the age of 16, I resigned myself to the idea that drugs could kill me, and there was no reason to fight it,” (Chuba, 2019). He credits this deeply personal connection to the story for the shows unfiltered persona, creating high levels of identification with the viewership. Many viewers have also found his story relatable as one in five teenagers have abused prescription drugs (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2019). According to Burke (1950) identification is defined as a rhetorical process that leads to persuasion. Within the space of the show, it is used to create a sense of common identity between Euphoria’s audience and the accurate portrayal of characters.

The show follows the lives of a group of teenagers navigating the ups and downs of the modern century. To give some background on the show’s main squad, Rue, the main character, is a recovering drug addict, with no intention to stay sober. Jules, a transgender-icon, has just moved from an ambiguous “big city” and is feeling bored with what this small town has to offer her. Kat, a closeted One Direction fangirl-turned sensational fanfiction author, recently had sex for the first time, it was also recorded and leaked to the whole student body. Maddy has been in an on-again off-again relationship with her abusive boyfriend Nate. Cassie is trying to keep her relationship with her college-age boyfriend alive and well. Nate, the typical quarterback character with internalized homophobia stemming from finding out his Dad is gay, is now secretly experimenting with his own sexuality. This wide range of individual character plots allows for a multitude of viewers to find identification within each of their stories.

It is, of course, important to note that the creation of this show was in some part influenced by HBO’s need to stay relevant in the competitive streaming market; I would also like to believe that despite this need for high demand programming, the actions of young adults everywhere sparked a flame in the creative community that further added to the show’s exigence. The current climate directly created a collective of educated and empowered young adults who are tired of being talked over, being told to sit down, or being shamed because “back in my day…” other people had it worse. Students these days are not participating in the same high school experiences as their parents, so in order to find a place to relate, many have turned to the Internet, and the many streaming platforms within it. The HBO-exclusive show, Euphoria, has held this identification role for many young students who have never before seen their identity correctly represented on such mainstream media as the giant outlet of HBO.

With the introduction of new streaming services occurring at radical rates, the need for relevancy remains at the top of many media corporation’s to-do lists. HBO is no different. HBO has been both celebrated and condemned for their raw portrayals of characters. Chen (2019) said, “The show is frighteningly hard to watch—it didn't temper my anxiety one bit all season—but its choice to skid easy definitions around difficult topics is what makes it an important cultural engine of our time.” Although ratings wavered in its early years during the mid to late 1970s, they have maintained steady progression for the last twenty years. In 2011 they were named the most successful network, winning nineteen Emmy Awards in one year alone (Aspden, 2011). The creation of Euphoria specifically came from a need of representation, a public desire to see real reflections of life. The hype for weekly premiers was continuous. The cast posted daily updates and many behind-the-scenes videos to keep the audience engaged. This constant contact between creatives and their fans also helped to maintain the very necessary quality of authenticity that surrounded the show. The season finale, otherwise dubbed “the prom episode,” was no different. Prom in its essence is a highly-gendered, often homophobic, and very public display of tradition, but despite this, for many it marks an anticipated rite of passage. In the prom episode of Euphoria, the queer, gender-ambiguous, and non-traditional characters reconcile this tension; prom became their runway. Dressed to the nines in creative, self-expressing garments, Euphoria’s characters hit the dancefloor with confidence. The episode showed how this generational event has become more accepting and fluid now, more than ever.

The choice to focus on the squad’s prom looks in the last episode allows for a greater opportunity to show character development and emphasize the pungently individual messages hidden in the coattails. Rue, the standout tomboy of the cast, has recently come to accept her budding relationship with her female-presenting best friend, Jules. For Rue’s prom look she wore the makings of a suit, slacks and a black coat, a manifestation of her struggle with feminine expression. But underneath the presumptuous outer shell she adorned her staple converse, one of, if not the only stable things in her life, and a maroon form-fitting, lingerie-inspired slip dress from the closet of the magnificent Jules. Jules stood out in the show as possibly the most comfortable with outwardly expressing her feelings, and her iconic prom look was no let down. A lilac and lavender two-piece crop top and wide-leg pants combo made waves in the sea of traditional prom garments. She also wrapped herself in the pièce de résistance of the night: a dark green, mesh, trench, with the symbol for transgender rights stitched onto the back with ornate black beading. Kat’s bondage and almost masochistic look reflected her growth into a strong woman, while Maddy stayed true to her values of loving yourself in a sexy black sheer halter and fitted skirt combo. Unexpectedly, Cassie was understated, but her more feminine look remained through the champagne gown’s flattering neckline. Nate stayed true to his toxic masculinity and rejected any inkling of creativity; he wore a suit.

In the past there has been a severe push back against “progressive” programming, especially those with highly explicit content. But it is also important to note that these subjects are often not foreign to the audiences participating with the artifact. Sam Levinson, the director, when asked if he was nervous about parental backlash regarding the shows content responded with, “… I feel like this is a debate that goes on constantly throughout time, where people go, ‘Parents are gonna be scared,’ and you go ‘Yeah.’ And young people will be like, ‘Yeah, that’s my life.’ I’m sure certain people will be freaked out by it and other people will relate to it” (Stack, 2019). There has been a very real struggle for liberation of the LGBTQIA+ community, to which Euphoria highlighted a homosexual relationship between its two main characters. Toxic masculinity has come to the forefront of scholarly conversation, to which Euphoria highlighted the mental and physical dangers that the suppression of emotion in boys can have on not only themselves but also the world around them. Toxic relationships have become hot topics in wellness ads, to which Euphoria showed just how serious and sometimes hidden, domestic abuse can be. An acceptance of sex workers is growing amongst younger generations, to which Euphoria explored the world of camming and subjects of porn in general. Trans bodies have come into public discourse, especially regarding the legality of their existence, to which Euphoria cast a trans actress as a lead role and used the platform to spread knowledge of the injustices many people face on a daily basis. The long running war on drugs continues, to which Euphoria used the story of a high school drug addict to bring communities together and create a safe space for all identities to be heard.

I have chosen the visual rhetoric approach to better examine how all elements of the character’s prom looks may have influenced each corresponding character’s final message. Visual rhetoric criticism is aimed at understanding the intersection between rhetoric and visual elements within an artifact (Kolodziejski, 2019, Visual). Albakry & Daimin (2014) state, “analysis of visual rhetoric considers how images work alone and collaborate with other elements to create an argument designed for [a specific] audience” (pp.29). Furthermore, I will be applying the deductive approach to this criticism, meaning I will be using the existing theories and concepts and applying them to elements of the visual artifact. I partly chose this approach because I stand firmly behind its assumptions: the visual is rhetorical, what is not shown can be just as important as what is shown. Lastly, how something is shown is as important as what is shown (Kolodziejski, 2019, Visual).

Within visual rhetoric lies the concept of the semiotic triangle, a figure that shows how an artifact’s referent, sign and reference are all related. Within that, there are three types of signs. Iconic signs are representative of what they point viewers to, such as a photo of an otter being an iconic sign for an actual otter. Indexical signs point to what they represent, like smoke indicating a fire. Lastly, symbolic signs reference an arbitrary relationship, such as the branded Swoosh being a symbol for Nike as a brand (Kolodziejski, 2019, Visual). Euphoria’s prom looks are all indexical signs, meaning they point to what they represent, without directly showcasing the underlying meaning. So, the general semiotic triangle for my artifact would have the referent as the actual look itself, the sign as the nod to what it is representing, and the reference would be the meaning behind it all. As the viewers of Euphoria engage with the show, they rely on their own life experiences to decode the symbols on screen. As articulated by Foss in 1994 “The study of visual imagery from a rhetorical perspective may make contributions beyond providing a richer and more comprehensive understanding of rhetorical processes. In some cases, such study may contribute to the formulation or reconciliation of aesthetic notions…” (pp 213). Through their comprehension of these symbols, the show’s underlying messages are able to speak more powerfully and allow for further resonation between the shows viewers and the characters they are able to identify with.

I have chosen visual rhetoric because it argues that everything shown and not shown has a significant purpose within the artifact. Due to the microscopic lens I have taken to the outfits chosen for the characters, this is most fitting. I have also chosen this method to better excavate the hidden messages of the main characters. Upon first glance I, like many, missed some major hints to character expression and development in the finale. But with the fine-toothed comb I took to these garments, I left no lapel untouched and no bead under-analyzed.

(Rue’s prom look).

For Rue, the exploration of expressing gender fluidity through her clothing choices was present throughout the entire season, but subtle. There was no direct mention of the matter until the season finale. While selecting a very feminine outfit for Rue to wear to prom, Jules expresses concern for possibly altering Rue’s gender presentation. I believe that by staying in the dress for prom, and not changing into something more fitting of her stylistic history, Rue was trying to validate her trust and relationship with Jules. In this scene, Rue had let Jules pick out her prom look and rather than opting for something similar to her previous fashion choices, Jules put her in a tight and sultry, lingerie-inspired, corseted, maroon dress. The color choice of maroon was not only fitting to the color pallet of the show, but was also distinctly similar to the color of Rue’s father’s sweatshirt, which she wears daily after he passes away. This choice I believe was unintentional from Jules, but subconsciously reminds the audience of Rue’s inability to move past that time in her life. Rue also adorned a traditional men’s suit pants and coat. This is the key part in her maintenance of gender fluidity and ambiguity within the outfit. The color choice was subtle and reflective of how natural this “tomboy” style has come to her self-expression. The choice of Converse was also only visibly present for a few moments on screen, but the shoes came to represent so much within Rue’s life. So much so in fact that the actress who played her character, Zendaya, made an Instagram post paying respect to the life they lived in the show with “I’m gonna have to get some new chucks for my personal life… I guess I’ll just have them on standby for season2. Til then Rue Rue” (Zendaya, 2019). Rue initially allowed Jules to change her gender presentation via the use of a frilly dress, but later came to regret the decision, as the dress became representational of their constricting relationship. This outfit represented the fluidity of expression and the intimacy that can be shared through clothing choice.

(Jules’s prom look).

Rue’s romantic counterpart, Jules, quickly became a stand-out character on the show due to her extravagant, stylistic choices within the first few episodes, and her makeup has inspired countless other artists’ renditions of the now iconic looks. For her prom look she wore a silky lilac crop top and similarly silky lavender high-waisted wide-leg pants. To top off the look she also adorned herself with a beautiful, almost floor-length, sheer mesh, forest green, trench piece. On the back of the sheer coat was a beaded symbol for the transgender community. The entire outfit was quite the statement, but I got the feeling that she was going for that “I’m not trying, but I tried really hard to look like I’m not trying” look. Due to the casual nature of a crop top and pant combo, the pieces seem haphazardly thrown together. However, the perfect complementary colors, and the identical silky fabrics make that lackadaisical approach almost impossible. I think it is also important to mention that the outfit as a whole read a little mermaid-y. To the untrained eye this might have gone completely unnoticed, but to someone with a recent history in Women and Gender studies, namely me, this reference was another direct tie to the trans community. Popularized by the television show Life With Jazz, mermaids have become an almost superhero-like figure for many people within the trans community, and now serve as a symbol of recognition. In an interview the star spoke on their significance, “Mermaids are just the most whimsical, mystical creatures of all time. A lot of transgender individuals are attracted to mermaids and I think it’s because they don’t have any genitals, just a beautiful tail” (Jennings, 2015). Jules continued to wave her pride flag high and exuded confidence. She held the message of being proud of whoever you are.

(Kat’s prom look).

Kat, a plus-size girl surrounded by a sample-size school, went through many changes this season. After her first-time having sex not only gets recorded, but also then is virally leaked throughout campus, Kat decided to reclaim control of her body. Kat had the edgier version of the “Pretty Woman” makeover. With an entire new wardrobe of bondage-inspired pieces, sexy black and red lingerie, latex, leather, and laces, she conquered not only her sexuality but also gained a whole new world of confidence as well. Throughout this journey, she also struggled with the duality of being a grade-A bad ass and still navigating soft and cute teen romance. For her prom look she wore all red, the color most symbolic for both power and romance. With a red leather corset on top and red silk midi skirt on the bottom, she exuded confidence as a woman in control of her own body. The black lace-up detailing that became a motif in many of her previous outfits also made a cameo in the prom episode running through both the top and the skirt. These specific choices show her character’s development of self-confidence. In the beginning, she was self-conscious and afraid of intimacy, but as the season progressed, the audience was able to see her blossoming into a woman in charge. She was able to reclaim her body after the sex-tape scandal and make a name for herself by camming on PornHub, and also by gaining enough appreciation for herself to see her love for Ethan. Kat struggled with coming into herself as a sexual woman and in her final look is able to show that you can be strong and confident and still express emotion and love.

(Maddy’s prom look).

Maddy, Maddy, Maddy. Where do I even start? Without a doubt Maddy was the most confident female character on the show, but when her boyfriend abused her at the annual carnival she began to break down. Although she was aware his actions were brutally wrong, she forgave him, like a story of Stockholm syndrome. Following his release back into school, they reappeared as a couple only to break up again in the following episode. Their relationship was undeniably toxic. At prom Maddy went with her group of girlfriends, surrounding herself with positivity and love. She wore a see-through black, crystal embedded, two-piece halter top and form-fitting skirt. She also wore a veil. Maddy shone bright on the dance floor and conveyed the message that relationships aren’t everything, and in the end all she needed was support from her friends, self-love, and some serious distance from her abusive ex-boyfriend, Nate. Maddy loves herself, but by ignoring her case of domestic violence she lost a part of herself. Luckily, in the finale, Maddy surrounds herself with good friends and shows that self-worth and self-love are important and still sexy.

(Cassie’s prom look).

Cassie’s prom look showed less of a character arc than the others, but her message remained just as pungent. On the day of prom, Cassie had gotten an abortion. The pregnancy was the unintended consequence of her boyfriend McKay. They came to the decision together, but Cassie made sure that the decision was ultimately her own. Needless to say, she was not dressed as her usual provocative self. She wore a soft pink satin gown, the most traditional of all the looks, and barely-there makeup, which according to the makeup artist was a distinctive choice given the earlier abortion. The makeup artist for the shoot took to Instagram to explain her look, “As much as I wanted to give Cassie a glittering euphoric winter formal makeup look, I didn’t feel like it would help tell her story in this moment. I wanted Cassie’s total absence of makeup here to signal to the audience that she’s reached the start of a new phase of her life…”(Davy, 2019). The neckline was still flattering but she remained quiet and pensive for the rest of the evening. In the same girl group as the others, Cassie took that day to surround herself with those who could support her without their knowledge of the previous event. Cassie’s prom look said that it is okay to not always be okay, and that expressing that is perfectly fine. This message can be gathered through her soft color pallet the contrasted the otherwise bright evening, the simplicity of the silhouette, and the unexpected lack of dark eyeshadow, a typical element of Cassie’s normal look.

(Nate’s prom look).

I intentionally saved the worst for last: Nate. Nate’s look was boring, and quite frankly fell flat. It would have made more sense for him not to go at all, or maybe to show up in hand cuffs as he did for Halloween. But whatever, he did go to prom, and he did wear a suit. Given the extravagance of the rest of the characters’ prom looks, there was an unofficial standard for all the characters to express themselves creatively in some way for the event. However, I believe that Nate’s blatant lack of creativity is his statement. For his whole life he has been molded to become a superstar athlete, and at no point was he given the opportunity to outwardly express himself. We can thank both toxic and hegemonic masculinity for this lack of expression, for in their essence both of these ideas encourage the repression of emotion in boys and men. His outfit shows that when not given the opportunity to find oneself beyond the expectations of others, or not being able to to explore one’s own creative capabilities a person could become a drone, in this case one with severe anger issues. The suit further shows his acceptance and assimilation into the norms and expectations for his character. Rather than expressing himself through stylistic choices, like many of the other characters, Nate’s feelings come out in destruction and violence. He serves as a precautionary tale, of what the dangers of toxic and hegemonic masculinity can have on young men: crushing self- hatred. For many, fashion can serve as a critical outlet for self-expression. Especially for Euphoria’s teenage viewership, style can feel like the only controllable element of their life while the lack of adolescent autonomy is at its height.

As both a thoroughly engaged audience member and fan of Euphoria, there is not much the creators could have changed about the prom looks to further appease me. Throughout the entirety of the season I found that I was able to relate to every individual character within the show, admittedly even Nate. I was able to see my own life tied into bits and pieces of every character’s individual story. Maddy and Rue stuck out as the characters with which I had the most identification with, and although their characters are almost direct opposites in the show, I felt comfort in being able to compare their stories to my own. However, I feel that it is also important to acknowledge the lack of identification some of my peers felt with Euphoria’s main squad. Some have never had experiences with “hard-core” drugs, struggled with gender representation, bee involved with sex tape scandals, or instances of domestic violence, dealt with the after effects of an abortion, or emotional repression. For many of these people who struggled to find identification with the main characters, the supporting roles served as their substitute. With characters as Lexi, McKay, Gia and Fez, many other identities were explored throughout the season, although in lesser detail. I believe that if these supporting characters had also been given equal screen time, an even wider range of audiences would have been able to engage and identify with Euphoria. By digging deeper into their stories, new plot lines could have been uncovered. Many teenagers struggle with eating disorders, which were left out of the show despite alarming statistics claiming that at least 30 million people suffer from eating disorders in the United States (ANAD, 2019). Nicotine has become a significant outbreak in American teenagers with the Center for Disease Control reporting that “5.6 million of today’s Americans younger than 18 will die early from a smoking-related illness” (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2019). And topics of bullying were also left unexplored by the show despite its constant prevalence in teenage society. Studies have even gone to show that “Bullying was a factor in 2/3 of the 37 school shootings reviewed by the US Secret Service” (Stop Bulling Now Foundation, 2019). However, including all of these topics could have been destructive to the season as a whole, and overwhelming to audiences. Given the relevancy of these topics, they are explored elsewhere in outer outlets. Euphoria was a show intended for people who had rarely seen their identities presented on mainstream media of this scale before. So, despite the few missing teenage issues that are more commonly explored today, Euphoria was able to uniquely cover some groundbreaking material for a show of its size.

Euphoria’s characters all held distinct messages within the show. Through the use of visual clothing cues Euphoria was able to further the identification factor of these stories by visually signaling their significance. Created out of a need for representative media and birthed into a world of social unrest, Euphoria became a breakout show on HBO’s streaming platform and now has the power to unify an entire generation. In “And Salt the Earth Behind You” Rue, Jules, Kat, Maddy, Cassie, and Nate give their final send off to the show by highlighting their completed respective messages between satin finishes and starchy, pressed suits. As a result of the creative expression of the prom outfits in the finale, viewers are left with a lasting impression of self-identification closing off the season.

References

Albakry, N. S., & Daimin, G. (2014). The visual rhetoric in public awareness print advertising toward Malaysia perceptive sociolculture design. Procedia-Social and Behavioral Sciences, 155, pp. 28-33.

ANAD. (2019). Eating disorder statistics. Retrieved from www.anad.org/education-and-awareness/about-eating-disorders/eating-disorders-statistics/.

Aspden, P. (2011, September 24). How HBO revolutionized television. Retrieved from www.slate.com/human-interest/2011/09/hbo-how-it-revolutionized-television.html

Burke, K. (1950). A rhetoric of motives. Berkley: University of California Press.

Cassie’s prom look [Digital image]. Retrieved from www.usa-grlk5lagedl.stackpathdns.com/production/usa/images/1565025651204007-66121653_654233518429076_5605336542765432610_n.jpg?w=1900&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=pjpg&auto=compress.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2010, June 3). CDC survey finds that 1 in 5 U.S. high school students have abused prescription drugs. Retrieved from www.cdc.gov/media/pressrel/2010/r100603.htm.

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2019). Youth and tobacco use. Retrieved from www.cdc.gov/tobacco/data_statistics/fact_sheets/youth_data/tobacco_use/index.htm.

Chen, E. (2019, June 6). In praise of euphoria, the perfect anti-binge TV show. Retrieved from www.wired.com/story/euphoria-anti-binge/.

Chuba, K. (2019, June 5). 'Euphoria' creator on authentic trans portrayals, mining "deeply personal" history to tackle teen drug abuse. Retrieved October 21, 2019, from www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/euphoria-creator-mining-deeply-personal-history-tackle-teen-drug-abuse-1215844.

Davy, D. [@donni.davy]. (2019, August 17). Cassie’s clean slate, episode 8, euphoria [Instagram photo]. Retrevied from www.instagram.com/p/B1SOb1EJcve/?igshid=ork83uq4xhn.

Foss, S, K. (1994). A rhetorical schema for the evaluation of visual imagery. Communication Studies, 45, pp. 213-224.

Jennings, J. (2015, June 8). Jazz Jennings: the transgender teen and wannabe mermaid the internet needs (M. Ruiz, Interviewer). Cosmopolitan. Retrieved from www.cosmopolitan.com/entertainment/tv/a40068/jazz-jennings-internets-most-fascinating/.

Jules’s prom look [Digital image]. Retrieved from www.usa-grlk5lagedl.stackpathdns.com/production/usa/images/1565024720966459-66659243_159635475163665_1587604092859566839_n.jpg?w=1900&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=pjpg&auto=compress.

Kat’s prom look [Digital image]. Retrieved from www.usa-grlk5lagedl.stackpathdns.com/production/usa/images/1565025241108497-67911105_2343940372514856_2058399465206680217_n.jpg?w=1900&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=pjpg&auto=compress.

Kolodziejski, L. (2019, October 16). Pentadic criticism overview [PowerPoint Presentation]. Retrieved from handout sheet.

Kolodziejski, L. (2019, October 23). Visual rhetoric criticism overview [In-class handout]. Retrieved from handout sheet.

Maddy’s prom look [digital image]. Retrieved from www.usa-grlk5lagedl.stackpathdns.com/production/usa/images/1565024910235630-66213364_669264316881864_5463572260054969293_n.jpg?w=1900&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=pjpg&auto=compress.

Nate’s prom look [Digital image]. Retrieved from www.data.whicdn.com/images/334716009/original.jpg

Nissen, D. (2019, June 6). 'Euphoria' creator sam levinson opens up about drug addiction at premiere. Retrieved October 20, 2019, from www.variety.com/2019/scene/news/euphoria-creator-sam-levinson-opens-up-drug-addiction-1203233881/.

Rue’s prom look [Digital image]. Retrieved from www.i.pinimg.com/originals/01/2f/1d/012f1d3dc6e81ba8e9d1ef7f4970d064.jpg

Stack, T. (2019, June 16). 'Euphoria' creator on why it's okay that some people are 'freaked out' by his controversial new show. Retrieved October 20, 2019, from www.ew.com/tv/2019/06/16/euphoria-creator-sam-levinson/.

Stop Bullying Now Foundation. (2019). School bullying affects us all. Retrieved from www.stopbullyingnowfoundation.org/main/.

Zendaya [@zendaya]. (2019, August 24). Thanks to season 1 [Instagram story post]. Retrieved from www.google.com/amo/s/amp.redit.com/r/euphoria/comments/cuyynl/from_zendayas_ig_story_who_knew_a_pair_of_chucks/.

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mbentzen-blog · 5 years ago

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9/27 Revision

When I first started ready rhetoric, knowledge, and “the brute facts of nature” in science, and they started talking about rhetoric use in research papers, my initial thoughts were about using rhetoric to persuade the readers to support the paper, and help to gain grants or money to continue their research. I did not think until after this article about how rhetoric is used in research papers to better explain the topic or research to someone who does not have the same level of understanding. I know this in done in computer science quite a bit, especially with algorithms. Algorithms are like the speed behind them, along with other qualities to describe the algorithms could be difficult to explain, especially to someone who does not have a background in computer science. Even in my classes, when we are learning, teachers use metonymy to help correlate things we are learning to something simpler that we understand. An example of this was when we were learning about the stack, the professor talked about a stack of books, and the last book on the stack, was the first one needed to be taken off.

I was also intrigued by the part of the article where it talks about rhetoric in human affairs as being a way of knowing. It talks about how truth is not immutable, but is contingent and rhetoric is not a way of giving effectiveness to truth, but is creating the truth. Especially in research papers, the acceptable of it is based on the peer reviewing of that paper. This shows that we accept truths based on the time it is in. This truth can change or be modified as more information comes about. In my degree, I think about the entire area of quantum computing that has begun to expand in the research departments of many companies. For years it was believed that the binary system was the only way of being able to represent data for computers due to having on and off switches. Over time, it was shown that we could work in hexadecimal systems as well, but these were still entirely built off the binary system. The recent research in quantum computing systems are about using a system besides the binary for running a computer. There is a tremendous amount more details that I do not at all understand due to not knowing how most of quantum mechanics works, but it is an interesting topic. As well, many of these research papers use rhetoric to attempt to simplify their topic for many others to understand and that they may receive more support for their research. The article goes on to talk about writing as a process and the linking of separate concepts to create new meaning, which absolutely correlates to the research process and especially in computer science. I look at the way developers in computer science share information. Each algorithm is almost always based on some other algorithm and is redeveloped to serve a more direct or singular purpose. As well it applies to

I used linguistic to talk about what I had read about and learned, along with what I related it to in my own discipline. I used a visual image to show simplification to show how sometimes rhetoric can be used in research to help make an idea easier to understand.

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magzoso-tech · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/wonderbly-launches-wonderbly-studios-to-let-other-brands-use-its-personalisation-api-for-printed-books/

Wonderbly launches Wonderbly Studios to let other brands use its personalisation API for printed books

Wonderbly, the personalised book publisher backed by Google Ventures and best known for the breakout hit “Lost My Name,” is unveiling Wonderbly Studios in a bid to make it easier for other brands to offer personalised and bespoke printed books on-demand.

Initially, Wonderfully Studios will work with select partners to provide access to its personalisation API and help create new books using its technology and expertise in the space. However, longer term Wonderbly co-founder and CEO Asi Sharabi tells me the plan is to continuing developing the platform and eventually open up the whole thing so that anybody can offer high-quality and data-infused personalised books via its API.

“Selling high quality personalised products – products that extend beyond the trivial “put my name on a mug” – is no easy task,” he says. “Meaningfully personalised products and businesses are still quite complex to operate at scale. You need a rendering stack, integration with a local print house, couriers, customer support and more. These technical and operational hurdles are a barrier to entry”.

Sharabi adds that although Wonderbly is aware of some “cool” personalised book ideas already on the market, he says that very few are reaching meaningful scale. “We hope to change all that with our personalisation platform and provide a fast, seamless experience with responsive previews and high fidelity physical products for multiple and complex personalisation logics,” he says.

The first project to come out of Wonderbly Studios is an interactive journal from Wizarding World (the Official Harry Potter Fan Club), which is a joint venture between Pottermore Ltd. and Warner Bros.

The “Keys and Curios” journal is described as full of interactive surprises and secrets that can be unlocked using the Wizarding World app. It incorporates a fan’s name, house traits and more to take them on a unique journey through the wizarding year.

The books contents were written and designed by the Wizarding World Digital team, and feature images from across the Wizarding World, artwork by illustrator Jim Kay and specially designed Hogwarts house covers by MinaLima (the graphic designer design team behind some of the visuals from the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts films).

Meanwhile, the personalisation technology, e-commerce integration and on-demand printing/logistics is powered by Wonderbly.

“The end customers interact via the partner’s e-commerce stack,” explains Sharabi. These stacks (e.g Shopify or Magento) were not built for personalised products and customisation. Adding this functionality is hard – we know, we’ve been doing it for 5 years. This is why we developed the Wonderbly Personalisation API”.

Products created on the Wonderbly platform can deliver “limitless amount of creativity, constrained only by imagination,” says the Wonderbly CEO. That’s because Wonderbly takes cares of a lot of the remaining heavy-lifting.

“Products are rendered in real-time at scale for customers as part of the shopping experience,” explains Sharabi. “The platform handles the complexities of integrating with e-commerce systems in a developer friendly way, making it a simple task to add a personalised product to a cart. When an order is completed a simple web hook ensures that the products are rendered, printed and shipped to the customer, while feeding into our partner’s systems for progress notification and customer support”.

With regards to what kind of personalised books we might see come to market as Wonderbly Studios opens up further, it is likely impossible to predict. That’s because the full range of potential experiences is likely something that no single person or team could ever imagine, which, of course is the whole point.

As Sharabi previously told TechCrunch, you can’t scale creativity in the same way as tech – you have to allow creativity to come from anywhere.

“What if you can create a customised art, poetry or recipes book at the same ease you make a Spotify playlist?” he asks rhetorically. “What would gaming printed yearbooks look like? What if travel guides and language acquisition become more personalised? What if you can order an ‘I was there’ personalised keepsake for live gigs and festivals? These and more are questions that get us very excited”.

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willowelijah · 7 years ago

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Like Two Drops of Water: Ch 2

A spideychelle fanfic.

Summary: Michelle and Peter are just best friends. When Michelle gets asked to the homecoming dance, Peter gets jealous. When she falls for Spider-Man, Peter gets jealous (of himself). Suddenly it seems maybe they weren’t “just best friends”, after all.

Read on fanfiction.net

On tumblr: (Ch 1) (Ch 3) (Ch 4) (Ch 5)

Chapter 2

"MJ has a date." Ned said to me as I slammed my locker shut. He was repressing that pleased look Ned always has when proving me wrong.

"Really?" I asked feebly. I leaned my head to rest against the shut locker.

"I'm actually sorry for you. You have to excuse me from smiling." Ned said between smiles.

"Are you sure about it?" I asked without moving away from the rigid locker door. I imagined what my homecoming would presumably look like from hereon, not especially impressed with what I was visualizing and hence wishing I could sink through the locker.

"Yes. Assuming that she was telling the truth when she told me."

I leered at Ned, not believing what I was hearing. "She told you?" I asked enviously.

"It's not like it's juicy gossip, of course she told me."

"Why hasn't she told me yet?" I asked rhetorically.

A flash of panic crossed Ned's features, "Here she comes." He whispered not all that subtly.

I turned around, suddenly self-conscious. A hand instinctively reached for my hair when I saw her curly head bouncing closer to us with a smile. The last thing I had time to do was pray she would tell me, while at the same time dreading having to hear her say it.

"Hello." She said, seizing us with a skeptical frown. "Is your general mannerism a direct result of yesterday's 'private business', because I can leave again so as to possibly calm your pulses?" She asked sardonically. Typical Michelle, I thought. I'm not sure if she had studied ways to come in to a room, throw together some words and immediately get the upper hand on a conversation while simultaneously making everyone who wasn't her slightly uncomfortable, or if it came natural to her. My guess would be the latter of the two.

I laughed, hopefully not too nervously. "No, that's… resolved." I looked at Ned who was nodding vigorously. The truth of it was, we had gotten nowhere on that pursuit.

"So, who's your date?" I blurted before I'd had a chance to stop myself. Ned's eyes widened in my direction, Michelle shot Ned a look and I looked down at my feet in shame at my lack of tact. You were going to wait for her to tell you, I mentally lectured myself.

"Uuuh," Michelle stammered and I cursed everything. Yesterday had been so easy and fun, now everything just felt awkward. "Liz." She finally revealed, looking away from the both of us.

"Liz?" I questioned. "Liz asked you to the homecoming dance?" Liz was sweet, intelligent and everyone loved her, whereas I could maybe be considered one of those things. I played with the zipper on my hoodie in an attempt to not have to look into those brown eyes, suddenly feeling like a small bug in comparison.

"Damn, you got lucky!" Ned erupted and Michelle smiled shyly, looking away repeatedly. "Do you like her?" Ned asked, making me feel like I was taking part in a conversation I had not consented to.

Michelle's shoulders rose. "She's cute." She said. I looked up by reflex, to my horror meeting her searching eyes. I tried to play it off by looking around at the students whirling around the hallway.

"Are you a couple now?" I asked as naturally as I could.

"We'll see where it goes." Michelle answered with a somewhat confident smile. As confident smiles go, it was pretty confident, but then again, I've seen confidenter* smiles. "I gotta go." She said uncomfortably. "See you tonight guys." She finished before she left me slightly exasperated at her purposefully fuzzy answer.

---

"Hello Peter! Hello Ned!" Liz greeted us enthusiastically upon opening the door to her mansion and paving the way for a wave of sound to hit us all at once. Sometimes, when I felt a little too good about being called a "hero" I liked to compare the rugged flat where Aunt May and I lived to Liz's house. I found it reminded me of who I really was.

"Hi Liz, you look nice." Ned said whereas I merely mumbled something in response.

"Thanks Ned. You two look very nice as well." She replied sweetly.

When I, in contrast to Ned, failed to respond Liz rolled her eyes. "I take it you've heard that I asked Michelle to homecoming?" She conjectured jadedly, hand to hip.

"How would you know?" I asked without bothering to look at her, instead I searched the small, barely existent dancing crowd inside. Most of the people were still drinking up the courage to dance, I deduced.

"Well, you're not usually this rude, Peter." She raised her eyebrows reproachfully.

Ned was looking at the floor, probably in second hand embarrassment for me. I now felt pretty guilty about my behavior, but I refused to show it, carrying on with the charade. "Yes. M.J. told me." I lied. "We're pretty close." That part's true at least.

"Rub it in." Ned joked in an attempt to diffuse the tension, but Liz was not really having it at this time, facial expression remaining still as stone.

The party did not get off to a good start; let's just say that. We eventually found M.J. though. She was sitting in a beanbag chair by herself, looking strangely content with her situation.

"Finally!" She said once she could make out our figures through the dim luminescent light. "I've been fending of suitors ever since I got here. Thank god you guys are here to take the burden away."

"Really?" I asked while cramping my way into the chair as well, as she made room for me. Ned had his own, but there were only two, which meant we had to make compromises. I didn't mind sitting next to M.J. though, her flannel felt soft against my arm.

"Yes." She motioned at the beanbag chair next to hers, the one Ned was now occupying. "This old thing has had suitors coming as if they were running on a fire." She said funnily, "But I told them, I said, 'It's waiting for Mr. Right.' in this case Mr. Leeds." She emoted. She winked at Ned, whose eyes were big and lost, whose eyebrows were curved in puzzlement and whose mouth was ajar.

"We can tell you've held the fort without us." I laughed. "You haven't talked to Liz anything?" I asked, voice suddenly soft and unsure and wondering how come she'd been sitting in this corner all by herself.

Michelle paused. "I — … I definitely greeted her upon arriving!" She finished light-heartedly after a small stumble.

Ned laughed, a little too hard. "What's the deal you two anyway? I will always respect your decisions M.J., but seriously? Liz? Don't get me wrong, she's great, but what do you guys even have in common?" I inwardly thanked Ned for daring to articulate exactly what I was thinking and I glanced at M.J. to see how she was taking Ned's words.

Michelle didn't seem too bothered by the criticism. "She's in the Academic Decathlon." She said, putting on her most logical voice. "And… She's cute I guess." Michelle ended uncertainly.

"I she much more than that though?" I asked bitterly. They both looked at me as if I had two heads and I deliberated if I should take the night of from speaking.

Thankfully, M.J. chose to ignore my ill worded utterance. "I feel like dancing tonight!" She erupted enthusiastically. "We need to dance tonight!"

"Yeah!" Both Ned and I chimed, thinking they were empty words. We were then more than surprised when Michelle actually stood up, ruining the perfect balance I had in the bean chair and therefore causing me to fall over. She offered her hand to help me up, which I took — out of obligation and not out of desire to take part in her proposal.

We should have known better. We really should have. Of course M.J. wanted to dance. Of course she asked Flash to put on Ramones. Of course she didn't really dance, more like waved her long sleeves around while jumping, the objective being to waste as much energy as possible. "It was how they did it in the 70's!" She'd say. And of course I could do nothing but watch her in awe with a funny feeling in my stomach.

Suddenly the music stopped and everyone turned to Flash, who was looking at me from across the room. Damn. I thought, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Parker!" Flash called for me, knowing he had the attention of the whole room, which was apparently the whole point of this exchange. "Where's your friend?"

The room was quiet.

"Gee, I don't know. Protecting the city?" I suggested sardonically.

"Yeah, from what I hear he's a pretty busy guy isn't he?" When I didn't reply to his clear attempt at mockery he pushed further. "I mean you would know, wouldn't you? …You're his friend?" Flash continued rigorously, tempting me to consider the suit I knew lay stacked inside my backpack. But I knew better, I wasn't going to use Spider-Man, I was going to wait for this little act to be over and then go back to semi-enjoying this party. "I'll lay off Peter. I can tell you're getting annoyed." Flash said, thinking he had me in the palm of his hand, which in itself instigated annoyance in me beyond anything he had said up to this point. "Just a word of advice before I go: if you're always the first one to text, then he's just not that into you." He said condescendingly, pretending to smile in his most compassionate way.

Michelle groaned, "Will you leave him the fuck alone, Flash?" She said, motioning with the coke in her hand.

"You know what? I'll call him right now." I announced to the group, speaking clearly enough for the people in the back to hear me. I glanced at Michelle who was raising my pulse simply by looking surprised at my proclamation.

What I did next I could barely believe, myself. I slid my phone out of my pocket while leaving the scene, I pretended to search for Spider-Man's number and once I'd got to a more secluded part of the house I pretended to make the call. I actually faked a whole phone call only to then exit the house, with my pack back, containing the suit. I could not for the life of me visualize how the rest of this night was going to play out and that scared me. I had no clue what to do next. I did know for sure that I couldn't have my friends having to stand up for me, I didn't want to be stood up for. I had to stick up for myself.

Pretending to be friends with a superhero is not the same as standing up for yourself, a voice in the back of my head said. They're actually so far apart that I find it amazing you could confuse the two.

If you can't stand up for yourself without the suit, then you shouldn't have the suit. The voice continued.

Your powers are your responsibility to use for doing good; impressing a bully doesn't constitute as doing good. The voice in the back of my head sure had a lot of sound arguments.

I put on the suit, just to see how it felt. As soon as it was on I suddenly felt incredibly stupid. Like, if the plan had felt stupid to begin with, this was next level stupid. On the streets of New York the suit made me feel powerful, but at a party with high school students, it was an entirely different story.

I jumped up into a tree so as not to be seen by anyone. I watched M.J. and Ned dance to the muddled sounds of Blitzkrieg Pop on the inside. I say dancing, but it was mostly just uncontrollable jumping. When the song ended I watched as M.J. walked up to Flash to request something new. She could never stand having to listen to music she didn't like.

I imagined what I would say if I went inside, but I couldn't think of anything that didn't make me feel incredibly uneasy. And also, a unitard didn't exactly "fit perfectly" with the dress code.

My eyes adjusted to the scene inside once again, but I was thunderstruck when I saw Flash, the man of the hour, forcefully pulling M.J. toward him and her resisting with all her might. All thoughts of "should I go in or not?" were lost to me and I jumped.

With a few swift jumps I was inside the house, I climbed up along the wall and no one spotted me until I was right above the crowd. Ned was now trying to push Flash away while M.J. was pouring her coke down his hair. I cursed all the drunken teenagers who had barely noticed the scene.

People gasped. "Oh my god, is that the real Spider-Man?" Someone exclaimed.

Before the golden trio could spot me though, I made my move. I shot my web to trap his feet, making him loose his balance and nearly fall over. Flash stopped in his movements to try and figure out what the strange substance around his feet was and Michelle was able to get loose from his grip. Her face was hard, but I could see that she'd been scared.

"What a party you guys are having here!" I said to announce my presence. I back-flipped and landed in front of Flash, from there I kept firing my web at him, trapping his hands and legs until he was covered in it. I stepped closer with each shot until I was right in front of him. I poked him to see if he'd fall, but Flash stood like a rock, covered in the sticky web.

I glanced at my friends, whose jaws were dropped open. Ned leaned in and gave me a high five. Flash's mouth was just as agape as everyone else's, shocked into submission. I don't think anyone had expected New York's famous masked guy to swing by their party, much less make a scene as this one.

"Don't worry," I said, "It'll dissolve in about two hours. By then hopefully you will have learned not to harass people. I mean it's not exactly rocket science, so I think you'll get there." I turned to the group with a newfound confidence; "You guys are with me on this?" They cheered in response, glasses filled to the brim with alcohol raised in salute. "See, these guys believe in you. Now you've just got to believe in yourself." I told him sarcastically with an encouraging slap on his shoulder, only to then have to steady him so that he wouldn't fall to the floor — I wasn't a complete sadist.

"So you are friends with Peter?" Flash quipped from his locked position. I couldn't believe my ears; after this whole ordeal he was still on that subject? I wanted to tape him to the ceiling, have him hang there for the rest of the night, but I kept the charade going. After all, I had initially sought out to prove a point.

"Peter?" I began, "Peter and I are more than friends." I emoted, only to subsequently realize my blunder. I caught M.J. snort and my head turned to briefly meet her eyes. "What I mean to say is… he's like a mother to me." I corrected light-heartedly to make her laugh even more. When she did I found myself continuing, "It's like he gave birth to me. It's like he birthed me out of his metaphorical womb. That's how close we are." Flash looked on, shocked at the odd situation I'd created among a room of partygoers.

"Right. And where is he now?" He hissed.

"He's a busy guy, you know." I reasoned. "Anyway…" I had begun to realize it was time to leave before any other queries arose. I put my hands in my nonexistent pockets. I made a mental note to talk to Mr. Stark about pockets, so as to avoid situations like these.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of my head rose and my muscles turned hard. Time suddenly took longer to pass. I realized that someone was right behind me. In one move I turned and caught their arm right as it was about to latch onto my mask. My eyes were wide in shock as they stared into some random drunk girl's. I pushed her back lightly and she stumbled but didn't fall. Next, I took a few leaps before I was out the window, gone from everyone's view.

Why does this always happen, I thought. Some idiot always tries to remove the mask without my consent. The great thing about the mask was that it created this sort of mystery. No one ever knew the true face of the web slinger, meaning I could go unnoticed if I so please. The problem with the mask however was that everyone loves a mystery. And a fair few love being the smart-ass who unravels it, especially disrespectful teens who've had too much to drink.

I sat down on top of the roof, watching the lilac smog spread like a curtain over the distant city. I pondered whether or not I should head back inside, Spider-suit off. But I decided it would be too suspicious if I suddenly appeared, having missed the whole show. It might set the ever-notice-how-Batman-and-Bruce-Wayne-are-never-in-the-same-room effect in motion.

My phone buzzed, Michelle was calling. I thought about answering, out of curiosity, but I didn't know what I would tell her if she were to ask about why I had left so suddenly. Eventually the buzzing stopped and I was left waiting for the leaves to fall.

---

* Used with humorous intent.

Authors note: Did you like/dislike something? Please let me know!

4 August 2017

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