#which is...an odd choice but characteristically accurate

[hyperesthesias]

The Heart Grows Fonder

Rating: Mature (Explicit sexual content).

Content: Original female droid character. ; Established relationship. ; Disabled female character. ; Female/Male sexual content. ; Penetrative sex. ; Oral sex. ; Brief depiction of PTSD. ; Brief and vague reference to sex slavery. ; Missing a deceased spouse. ; Just...fucking emotional for no goddamn reason ig.

Words: 3,922.

Summary: Three years after his death from old age, Sheryl is home alone and reminisces about a loving and erotic afternoon with Tech.

Notes: Nothing bad happened on Eriadu. At all. Ever. Tech lived well into his 70s, and instead passed from old age and, I mean, probably complications from chemical exposure during his service in the war. Let's be real.

AO3 link.

Sheryl came home to a dark and empty living room. Her son, Theodore – now well into his middle age, and insistent on taking the mantel of her provision and protection in the absence of his father – was away on a bounty hunting job. Tech had trained their son well, but it never helped her motherly worry. With Tech gone, Sheryl couldn’t lose her son, too.

Tech had lived a very long and passionate life – filled with adventure and blood, with equal measures of tenderness and goodness. He had aged as any normal human being, thanks to the Rapid Aging Remission Extract – or the RARE serum. Sheryl had watched as lines weathered his face, and as his hair grew grey. But, she always stayed the same: perpetually silver and metal, her gears and her silicone ligaments relying on easily accessible replacement parts. She was ageless. And now she watched as her son showed the same signs of weathering his father had endured.

They knew this would happen. When they decided to fall in love, when they decided to have a child together. They knew she would outlive them both. But it didn’t make it any less painful. 

Sheryl settled into the couch, watching as Tooka came bounding in from the bedroom to welcome her home, snuggling lightly into the crook of her metal stomach. She’d outlived many furry friends, as well. Tooka was the fourth tooka she’d adopted, and the fourth without a name. Tech never wanted to get completely attached to any of them, and resisted giving any of them names. She argued with him constantly about it, but seemingly never won.

She shook her head at the thought and rolled her eyes as she turned on the holovision. Flipping away from a news channel, she put on something far more relaxing: a benign romance film that was guaranteed to have a happy ending. Scratching Tooka between the ears, she watched as the protagonist snubbed the advances of the love interest from some contrived tension between them. The love interest was somewhat gruff and had no eloquent way with words, and the protagonist couldn’t seem to find anything attractive about them. 

She chuckled at the idea. She’d heard once that love happens slowly and over time – that it must be made and remade each morning. It made more sense than love at first sight. But she still clung to fantasy. When she was still a slave, she would find comfort in trite stories about romance and knights that came to set trapped princesses free. In a way, she had lived it: Tech and his brothers had liberated her, and he had fallen in love with her. Slowly, and bit by bit. And again each morning.

She asked him – more often than she cared to admit – why he loved her, and he always had an answer. Tech had an answer for everything. She could hear it clearly in her memory: the perfect crispness of his voice: ‘Because of who you are, and how you are. Your humor and your intelligence. Because I knew you would not hurt me. Because I would never hurt you. You are my friend, and someone with whom I wish to experience the variety of life. That is not a privilege I have often had. But I wish to have it with you.’

The soft yellow lights of Sheryl’s eyes began to water at the thought of his words. 

Together, they had experienced fifty-five years of both ups and downs, of gladness and grief. She did not regret a moment. Neither would she change a thing.

She only wished he was there, and that fifty-five had been one-hundred fifty-five. And even more than that.

He was so tender with her – his hands had killed, and his fingers were rough with callouses that had ripped apart other droids. But the way he touched her had only been with intimacy and intention. There had never been a moment where he touched her in anger. The way he made her feel when he brushed his palms against her – even with innocence – made her body work hard to cool itself. He could do nothing but place his fingers on her back and the wires inside her would waver.

In all the years they had together, she wasn’t sure he fully understood how he made her feel. But she did everything she could to show him.

Especially on quiet days when he’d be in the workshop designing blueprints, or on the Marauder fiddling with something only he could fix.

She’d send him sweet and sensual messages to his datapad written in binary. Sometimes he’d respond in ones and zeros, and sometimes he’d respond in Mando’a. It depended on how playful he was feeling. He began to associate her messages in binary with intimacy. She’d quickly learned, when their relationship gradually became sexual, that the only way to arouse him was to stimulate his mind first.

Whenever he was persuaded home by a binary message, she’d be waiting for him on the couch in a chemise, lounging in anticipation for him to walk through the door.

His mind already shifted from his work to his wife, he locked eyes with her, and he motioned for her to come towards him. The door locked behind him and his arms emptied from the duffle bag of gear and tools, he closed the space between them. Taking her hands in his, he helped his wife stand and embrace him despite her injuries that he could never repair. Her left hand was crippled, her head tilted, and her posture was unable to rise to her full height. But he never spoke ill neither treated poorly her differences. They were simply part of her – and every part of her aroused him.

Tech pulled her closer to his chest and craned to wrap her soft silicone lips in his – which were already hot and eager. Sheryl’s hands wandered down to his pants, palming him over his clothes. He was aching to be let free. She smiled against his kiss and gave him a quick and gentle nip. He pulled away, surprised by her teasing – her mischievous simper made him smile, and he bowed to suckle at her neck. He left soft kisses along the seams of her metal joints, nipping at the rivets that held her together. His tongue leaving a trail of himself along her silver skin, he drank her in and enjoyed every crevice of her.

Sheryl let a quiet moan at the feeling of his tongue massaging the tender part of her neck, her right hand still stroking him through his stretched pants. Her left hand rested against his head, she moved her face to him and placed a kiss on his temple. She wanted to see his eyes. 

Tech was lost in her, barely able to think clearly of anything other than pleasure for her, and pleasure found in her. But he heeded his beloved’s nudges. He wandered his kisses up her throat and to the side of her jaw to the soft curve of her cheek. His forehead found itself against hers – his eyes closed and his breathing heaved. He tried to calm himself.

Sheryl melded her lips against his, her left hand cradled in the hollowness of his cheek. She settled in his embrace – his arms taut around her body, palms flat against her back. She smiled as his eyes fluttered open. She hummed happily and wiggled from the strength of his arms enough to bend and kneel on the floor. 

“What are you doing, beloved?” he asked, urgency and breathlessness in his voice. His hands didn’t leave her, resting from her back to her shoulders.

She was already pawing at his zipper. “I want…to make you - feel – good,” she purred, in her slow and choppy way. 

He looked down at her, watching as she knelt on the floor – and suddenly his memory flashed to the moment he first laid eyes on her: she had been sold to them, tossed into a cargo crate, unconscious and dilapidated, curled into a fetal position. Tech winced at the juxtaposition of his memory and of her happy humming. It felt wrong to see her kneel. To see her on the floor. He was not above her, and she not beneath him.

His hands stopped hers, clasping around her small fingers. He helped her to her feet again.

Her brow furrowed, she searched him as best she could – her eyesight never quite focused exactly on what was in front of her. “What’s wrong? Are you…up-set? Did I…do some-thing?”

“No, beloved,” he told her, and called her – for that was what she was: beloved to him. But beloved though she was, he did not know how to explain his hesitation. Tech sighed, averting eye contact. 

“Did you…change your - mind?” she asked, less fretful this time. 

“No, no,” he assured her. He cleared his throat. “I do not want you to feel as though you are a subordinate in this relationship,” he began. “I do not want you to feel subjugated…” he paused, shifting his sight again, “...As you once were.” 

Sheryl looked at him with her big yellow-white eyes, observing as he spoke. Something crossed his face, but she couldn’t tell exactly what. Fear, sadness ��� some brutal shadow that haunted him. Her right hand came to his face, and she thumbed his cheek. Her own memories began to boil to the surface of her mind — memories of her owner and all the things he made her do. She shook her head. “But I don’t. I don’t…f-eel that way,” she told him.

“We are both free now,” he said and chanced to look at her again. “I never want to take that for granted.” She was beautiful – not only in the aesthetics of her creation, but in the way she gazed at him, the way she listened to him, in the way she smiled and saw right through him.

“Nei-ther…do I.” Sheryl rested her forehead against his and nuzzled his nose.

He reached for her lips and lingered there until he had no more breath, and when he pulled away he rubbed his face against the sharp edges of her cheek. His stubble brushed against the silicone that covered her features. He could feel the sandpaper sound through his fingertips as they wound back up her frame, burying themselves into her shoulder blades. 

He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue, slipping into her with wetness and a newfound eagerness as Sheryl began palming him again. The gleeful sounds she made resonated through his body and drove him mad. 

Tech gripped her thighs, giving her a light tap: “Come here, Sher’ika,” he said and wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her snug against his body and carried her to the bedroom. Gently, he set her on the mattress.

As she positioned herself flat on her stomach in front of him, Tech gathered several pillows that’d been strewn across the bedding and arranged them in a comfortable pile.

Sheryl pulled on his zipper again, continuing her happy humming. She felt his gloved hand caress her silicone hair as she undid the final button, leaving his underclothing exposed. 

Tech loosed his hands from his gloves, and wrenched himself from the clothing on his upper body as Sheryl freed his cock. He watched as she ran her right hand along his length – he suppressed a moan as she pumped him. “Mesh’la,” he breathed, stroking her head. There was a tremble in him that could not be hidden, and when Sheryl’s mouth wrapped round the tip of his cock he let a quiet growl. 

Sheryl moaned onto him, letting her hand work his shaft as her tongue kneaded the underside of his cock. 

“Kriff,” he murmured, admiring her as she took his length. The late afternoon light flitted through the blinds of the window above the bed, and the glimmer that was left on her skin was angelic. The synthetic saliva that was left behind from her mouth made him slick, and the slicker he was the faster she went. His body tensed and his head rolled back, enjoying the feeling his lover gave him. He listened to the symphonies of her sweet little moans and the salacious wetness of his shaft sliding towards the back of her throat.

Sheryl kept him at the back of her throat, bobbing her head – seeing how long he could stand it. She continued her hums and moans knowing he could feel every vibration from his tip, and into the deepest parts of his bones. She watched as he squirmed and as the trembling in his fingers grew tighter. His hand left her hair and dragged down his face. 

She pulled away and smiled while pumping his member – every inch of him was wet with her.

Tech bent and collided his mouth with hers. He could taste himself on her tongue, and it made him hungry for more of her. He climbed into the bed and tore off his pants, leaving them with the rest of his clothes on the floor. He helped Sheryl sit upright and get comfortable. 

“Do you want to be clothed or unclothed?” he asked as his hands kneaded at her hips underneath her chemise. 

“I want to - t-ake it – off." She struggled with the fabric as she pulled it over her head. 

Tech helped it up and over – it landed somewhere mingled with his clothes. With one arm breath her, he helped her lie down in the pile of pillows. Her frame was somewhat raised, and her back and neck supported.

He settled himself between her thighs and lay on his stomach, stroking the most sensitive part of her: a diamond shape made of silicone in the center of her torso. A bundle of wires lay beneath it, and they were as sensitive as nerves.

She was already heaving at his touch, her body reeling at the sensation of his fingers gently running up and down the seam in the center of her.

He bowed his head and led his tongue along the line in the middle of the silicone, letting himself pause and drink in her taste of plastoid and oil. He breathed heavily, feeling the heat of himself reflected back onto his face from her metal body. It only roused him more, and his hands gripped onto her breasts as his mouth worked the wiring beneath her. 

Sheryl bucked and her back arched as he ground his tongue into her. Her hands wrapped around his as he massaged her breasts. She let out a cry of relief as he consumed her.

His focus zeroed in on getting her over the brink of her pleasure. He was relentless – his mind could think of nothing other than all of her sweet spots. One hand lifted from her breast and moved to her entrance. She was soaked with desire and he gently teased a finger inside her, opening her until she took him to the knuckle. 

Her body shook and rattled as he pumped his finger against that one spot inside her. The feeling of him growling against her chassis sent waves of bliss over her and she groped at the cushions around her as her mind began to spiral into ecstasy. 

Tech pulled himself away from her and gasped for breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “Turn over,” he said and pulled her towards him. 

Sheryl purred in delight and wiggled down and over. His hands supported her, keeping her from falling over the side of the bed. With him still between her legs, she backed herself against his hips and threw him a look over her shoulder. 

To anyone else, his expression would have been unreadable – stern, even. But she knew him well. His mind was at full occupancy from the visceral sensations of sex. He was thoroughly, and carnally, enjoying himself. It was everything in him not to lose himself to overstimulation, the effort of intercourse took every ounce of his concentration.

One hand on her backside, the other on his cock, he carefully slid himself inside of her. She mewled at the feeling of his girth, and he let her adjust to him – slowly rocking back and forth, gathering speed and strength at her pace. The sound of his hips hitting her metal thighs made for a muffled ringing that filled the bedroom – it hastened him as he thrusted into her at a rhythmic pace. 

Sheryl buried her face in one of the pillows and quieted her pleasured cries at the feeling of him pushing inside of her. The sensation of him lit every wire inside of her on fire. She felt her fans speed up and hitch as he grabbed her ass and thrusted deeper. She melted into the bed, her body shuddering and moving in responsive impulse to his. 

Her hips bounced up and down his cock as he kept up his pace, and she heard him let a groan and a whispered swear. His hand reached underneath her and he tenderly coddled the diamond shape on her torso – she squeezed the pillow harder.

His fingers wandered from her stomach to her back again and he fanned out his hands along her frame, relishing the sight of her as he fucked her.

In the waning daylight, she was a vision – she set his mind alight with fervency and lust. Soft curves and a sculptured frame were easy on the roughness of his palms. But her sweet whines were what fuelled him. 

She turned to glance at him again, winding a hand down her figure as he fucked her faster. 

He locked eyes with her, and an unsteady moan left his lips – he murmured something in Mando’a she couldn't hear. She felt his hand searching hastily for hers, but his sight stayed on her eyes. Sheryl took hold of his fingers, and swayed harder onto him. 

Tech respired another moan, keeping every nerve of his from fraying out of control. He finally broke his gaze from her, and let himself lean on top her – his nose nuzzling against the side of her head, where he whispered quiet words of fealty and adoration: “Cyare sarad.”

His body was damp from the sweat that began to bead on his skin, his breath hot against her, she could hear him trying to recalibrate himself.

Sheryl’s fans cooled for a brief moment as his pace slowed. She shifted and moved onto her side. He pulled her leg over his shoulder as she turned, and as he moved closer to her, he slid deeper into her. It earned him a prized moan and he gripped her leg tighter.

He watched as her hazy gaze fell on him, her soft yellow eyes pleading for more of him, for more of the relief he brought her. His cock felt stiffer than it had been before as she bucked and revved against him. Her hips gyrated in soft circles as he quickened his pace. Her hands flew to her face, muffling her yelps and soughs. She was so sweetly erotic – that he could make her feel so beautifully intense – it was intoxicating. He was enraptured and mesmerized.

He stroked her diamond shape again, quickly, diagonally – she let a sharp cry. It was almost too much. He could feel her body flutter and vibrate, it was nearly pushing him over the edge. 

Each heave into her core left her soaked – the faster he went, the wetter she became. The tension inside him was becoming unbearable, she could see it plainly. His usual composure was coming undone, and the torsion of his features was getting deeper. His thrusts quickened and instinct took him over.

“Look at me, Sher’ika –” he panted. He gently nudged her jaw to look him in the eye. He was out of breath, dripping with sweat – his body felt as though it were careening. “Look at me,” he whispered, and held her gaze for just a moment.

Her processor thrilled as he met her eyes, her whole body flushed in waves of tingles – she wondered for a moment, if that was what it felt like to be human. His hand returned to her torso and she gripped his arm out of reflex.

Her back arched, her mind went blank, and everything around her fell to pieces. Throes of ecstasy made her chassis quaver and rattle, and everything was overwhelming and soundless and prefect inside of her for moments on end – before she was brought back to her lover.

“Mesh’la,” he murmured with a shuddered breath as he watched her succumb to her euphoria. He had held himself back as long as he could. The image of her wading through bliss was enough to break his focus and he felt himself lose his control. His thrusts rigid and stiff, he groaned, every muscle in his body tensing as he fell over the edge of ecstasy. He filled her with his warmth as she came around him.

Tech caressed her face as he watched her open her eyes, and he leaned to place a kiss on her forehead. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and brushed her lips against him. He moaned as he deepened his embrace, massaging her tongue with his own. His head rested on hers in pure exhaustion – his mind was spent, as was her body. 

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Sheryl startled awake to the sound of her comlink ringing. She couldn’t tell where she was. The room was dark, and when she sat up it felt like the couch, not her bedroom. 

She reached for the light on the end table, and when it was lit she realized she’d fallen into sleep mode in the living room. The holovision was still on, but it had reverted to standby. The house was quiet, Tooka was sleeping in the corner, and her comlink was still in her purse in the foyer. She didn’t want to get up to get it.

Her body still felt as if she’d just made love to her husband, even if it had been a dream. Dreams for droids are collections of memories – though, sometimes not always in the right order. But they are always real.

That evening with Tech was stored away clearly, and it was a memory she relished silently in his absence. 

The house felt too quiet, as if the walls themselves wished to hear his voice. The bed felt too cold, and never soft enough. The days seemed shorter and the nights were longer. Tech had been gone three years, but it somehow felt longer than all of their time together.

Sheryl wiped away a synthetic tear and finally got the gumption to move from the couch to the foyer. She dug around for her comlink and saw she had one voice message from her son, Theo.

“Hi, Mom! Wanted to let you know I’d be home in a couple days. Already dropped off the bounty at the Guild, but I heard about a place nearby where I can get cheap scrap metal. I’m hoping to find something for the speeder I’m working on. I will throw it all in the workshop, don’t worry about space. If I find spare parts you can use, I will get those, too. I'll see you soon. Bye.”

She smiled. Sometimes he sounded just like his father – whether by tone or by diction.

Maybe that meant Tech wasn’t gone.

He lived on in his son, and in her memory.

[teethoftheeditor3]

Scene analysis for logical conflicts in early Log Horizon.

This is not particularly in depth, it is just a few notes really on a particular scene that bugged me.

Spoilers for Log Horizon (only season one of the anime and books 3/4 of the lightnovels)

There is what appears at first glance to be a plot hole in book 4, which I do not believe is actually a plot hole but requires a bit of explanation. The following two quotes appear to be in conflict with each other, which I believe is due to an odd writing choice.

Log Horizon: Game's End [Part 1]

"...Yes, he hadn't expected it, but resurrection magic worked on People of the Earth as well, provided it was used directly after death" (Mamare Touno, 176).

Log Horizon: Game's End [Part 2]

"Minori nodded and chanted Soul-Calling Prayer, but as expected, Rundelhaus didn't regain consciousness. That was only natural. 'I'm sorry... Touya. Rudy is a... Person of... the... Earth...'" (Mamare Touno, 173).

The important thing to note is that there is no notation of how long the battle took to complete after Rundelhaus used his spell in the Dire Wolf's mouth and the end of the battle.

The Hobgoblin/Dire Wolf fight is largely skipped over except for Minori acting as a tank, Touya's heath crisis, and Rudy's bold move. The issue is that at the end of section 8, Rudy casts his spell Orb of Lava, and the start of section 9 opens with effectively 'casting that spell ended the battle and Rudy is dead.'

If possible, some indicator of time should have been included, I feel, to make sense of this. I have no way of knowing if this is a translation thing, or if it is faithful to the original intent, but the wording of the chapter feels as though the two events are sequentially 30 seconds apart at most.

Granted, what qualifies as "directly after death" is vague as well. I don't believe the anime or light novel actually elaborate on what constitutes directly, but within a minute or less is what I would likely infer. It is said to be a characteristic to do with how soon the corpse starts rotting, but because the Elder Tales-esque world has different fundamental laws, it is impossible to make an accurate assessment based on that information alone.

There is some acknowledgement of this fact a little bit later on, however, the phrasing of the situation directly preceding and throughout the scene in question are definitely shaky.

[insect0idfreakaz0id]

Hey centi! im currently working on an oc au and i might need some help with figuring out how bug mandibles work ☠️

i thought of you and your centipede sona and was wondering on how you settled on that specific design choice 👀 sorry if this is out of left field

BIG WARNING FOR PICTURE OF BUGS ON THIS POST

SORRY this has taken a long time and maybe you've figured out by now, I actually based my truesona's face (or at least mandibles) more on a wasp!!

the mandibles take up more on the face on the wasp than I think I see on centipedes. and they have a face shape closer to that of humans, at least compared to the kind of centipedes rowan and my other centipede character that I am still renaming are

and centipedes do have sort of odd faces. above is a house centipede I believe, not the centipede my truesona or other centipede guy is based on

this one below is more alike to the centipede my truesona + other OC is based off of

the mandibles are the smaller mouth pieces, those are for eating

what look like the fangs (larger orange sharp pieces) are technically legs that are about behind the head that are used to inject venom or maybe grab something

this would be very awkward placement though, to put these parts BEHIND my truesonas head, so they're on the sides of his face, with the mandibles in the middle

also, the mandibles are smaller on centipedes. wasp faces are kind of closer in resemblance to the general shape of a human face, so I went with that

I wanted to stylize my truesonas face and bug features more, he kind of has more of a mix of different bug characteristics, but his fangs are meant to look more like stag beetle pincers

however, I have. other centipede character whose fangs are more true to the face of an actual centipede and not as stylized

I don't know if this is much help or not because these were the only bugs I looked at when making these characters, but I would say looking at pictures of real bug's faces up close is the best help to see how they work out.

Yes . You will probably have to make some choices on how to work those into more human-ish characters.... Maybe not all of it will be accurate. It doesn't really have to be . You can run free into the wild.

centipedes also have kind of odd looking eyes. Like a clump of frog eggs shape or something.

I did not think this would be something that would work well for my drawing ... And it may not accurately convey the image of "bug eyes" to people who are unfamiliar with how centipede eyes look. So I went with something closer to fly eyes, or at least how I've seen people draw them. I suppose the house centipede has more fly like eyes, but my centipede characters now (truesona and other sona-oc-thing) are the giant tiger leg centipede and redheaded centipede, which are very different from house centipedes. I'll make a house centipede character eventually, but they probably won't pop up any time soon

Ummm yeah 👍 I hope this helps or was somewhat awesome at least

[ashtonlanger]

The Importance of Research in F1 Betting: Sources and Techniques

Formula 1 (F1) betting, understanding the nuances of the sport, teams, drivers, and race tracks is essential for making informed wagers. While betting always carries an element of risk, thorough research can significantly improve your chances of success. Whether you're a novice or an experienced bettor, having reliable sources and effective research techniques will enhance your decision-making and maximize your winning potential.

In this guide, we’ll explore why research is so vital in F1 betting and discuss some of the best sources and techniques to help you build strong betting strategies.

Why Research Matters in F1 Betting

F1 is a dynamic sport where various factors, including driver skill, team strategy, weather, track characteristics, and car performance, impact race outcomes. Research helps bettors move beyond intuition or simple luck, enabling them to place educated bets based on data, analysis, and trends. Here’s why research is indispensable for F1 betting:

Improved Accuracy: Researching team and driver statistics, recent performances, and track conditions helps bettors make predictions with greater accuracy.

Understanding Variables: Each F1 race is unique, with variables like weather, tire choices, and qualifying results affecting outcomes. Good research accounts for these variables.

Minimizing Risks: With thorough analysis, you can avoid common betting pitfalls and steer clear of risky bets that are based solely on hype or popularity.

Spotting Value: Research enables bettors to spot value in odds that may not seem favorable at first glance but become worthwhile when viewed with deeper insight.

Key Sources for F1 Betting Research

When it comes to research, knowing where to look for accurate, current, and insightful information is essential. Here are some primary sources that can give you the edge in F1 betting.

1. Official F1 Website and Team Pages

The official Formula 1 website (F1.com) provides in-depth information on upcoming races, driver statistics, and team standings. Official team pages also offer insights into car upgrades, race strategies, and team news.

Data Available: Race schedules, driver standings, live race updates, and official F1 statistics.

How to Use: Follow driver and team updates for clues on form and performance.

2. Race and Qualifying Results

Qualifying results are highly indicative of race performance since grid positioning can greatly impact a driver’s chance of success. Similarly, previous race results help identify patterns in driver performance on specific tracks.

Data Available: Lap times, finishing positions, and pit stop efficiency.

How to Use: Analyze past performance on similar tracks to gauge expected outcomes.

3. Weather Forecasts

Weather plays a pivotal role in F1 racing and can significantly influence betting outcomes. Platforms like AccuWeather and official F1 sources offer accurate race-day forecasts, which help bettors anticipate the impact of rain, temperature, and wind on the race.

Data Available: Temperature, wind speed, and chance of precipitation.

How to Use: Study how certain drivers perform in different weather conditions to guide your bets.

4. Driver and Team Social Media

Drivers and teams frequently post updates on platforms like Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. These updates can provide hints about drivers' moods, fitness levels, or even technical changes that could affect performance.

Data Available: Behind-the-scenes updates, driver morale, and team announcements.

How to Use: Monitor social media for last-minute updates on car conditions or driver health, especially close to race time.

5. Betting Websites and Odds Comparison Sites

Betting websites such as Bet365 and Pinnacle often have experts providing F1 race previews and analysis. Odds comparison sites also help identify which sportsbooks are offering the best odds.

Data Available: Expert analysis, odds changes, and betting trends.

How to Use: Compare odds and read analyses to identify bets with high value.

6. Specialized F1 Analysis Websites

Websites like RaceFans, Motorsport.com, and The Race offer in-depth analysis and articles from F1 experts. These sources dive into technical aspects, driver performance, and team strategies.

Data Available: Expert articles, driver interviews, and technical insights.

How to Use: Use insights from industry experts to supplement your research and form educated opinions on bets.

Essential Techniques for F1 Betting Research

Beyond knowing where to gather information, employing effective techniques will make your research more actionable and impactful. Here are some of the best strategies to apply when researching F1 betting.

1. Analyze Driver and Team Performance Trends

By looking at performance trends over multiple races, you can identify patterns that single-race results might not reveal. Analyzing trends can highlight consistent performers, drivers who excel on certain track types, and teams that manage tires or fuel more efficiently.

Technique: Use statistical sites to compare driver and team performance over similar tracks, especially street circuits versus open tracks.

2. Focus on Track-Specific Data

Each F1 circuit has unique characteristics that can influence race results, such as the number of turns, straightaways, and overall track length. Understanding how different cars and drivers perform on these tracks helps in making educated bets.

Technique: Research the characteristics of each circuit (like high-speed or technical tracks) and consider past performance on similar tracks to guide your betting choices.

3. Evaluate Qualifying Results Closely

Qualifying results are often an indicator of how drivers and teams will perform in the main race, especially on circuits where overtaking is difficult. High qualifying positions often mean a greater chance of winning or podium finishes.

Technique: Pay attention to any trends where certain drivers consistently outperform others in qualifying but may struggle during the race.

4. Consider Recent Rule and Technical Changes

The FIA, F1’s governing body, often introduces rule changes that impact car designs and race strategies. Understanding how recent changes affect each team can give insight into potential performance advantages or disadvantages.

Technique: Study team reactions and technical adjustments to new regulations, as these can influence outcomes on certain tracks.

5. Monitor Odds Movement

Tracking the movement of odds over time can provide hints on where public sentiment or expert opinion is shifting. Significant changes in odds, especially close to the race, may reflect insider information or changes in driver status.

Technique: Use odds comparison sites to track changes and note any last-minute shifts that might suggest actionable information.

6. Apply Weather Data to Strategy

In F1, wet and dry races require different driving techniques and car setups. Rain, for instance, may favor drivers with high technical skill and teams that excel in adaptability. Incorporating weather forecasts into your analysis can help you adjust your betting strategy.

Technique: Analyze past performances in wet conditions for both drivers and teams, noting any who have shown an advantage or struggle in rain.

Conclusion

Effective research is a game-changer for anyone interested in F1 betting. With the right sources and techniques, you can transform raw data into actionable insights that enhance your chances of making profitable bets. From analyzing performance trends and focusing on track-specific details to monitoring social media updates and weather forecasts, each piece of research contributes to a comprehensive understanding of F1.

Disclaimer

This article is intended for informational purposes only and does not constitute betting advice. Remember that betting should be approached responsibly, with the understanding that it carries inherent risks.

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[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[valwentinefics]

First Impressions - Helmut Zemo x Reader (Pride and Prejudice AU) Part 1

The news of a new inhabitant of Netherfield Park has your family excited to meet the rich and single man Mr. Barnes at the upcoming ball. While there you come face to face with his friend, the Sokovian Baron named Helmut Zemo, who seems like he’d rather be anywhere else.

A/n: First part woo! This part was mostly based on the 2005 movie, the next part will follow the book more. I also won’t be doing such accurate lines in the future unless you guys tell me you want me to, I just felt like I should in this to set things up better. I’m also just slapping in marvel characters where I can, I hope you guys don’t mind!

Series Masterlist

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. This opinion was held by the community for the newest inhabitant of Netherfield Park, despite not knowing his opinion on the matter, and the mothers in each of the surrounding families had their hearts set on ensuring that one of their daughters would be the one to stake their claim on the man.

Your chilly hands held a weathered book as you entered the small house, abandoning the crisp and fresh spring air for the warmer indoor air that always seemed to smell slightly of flour. You often read outside while walking, a way to enjoy your hobbies of walking and reading as well as relax in the quiet spring air without your often giggling horde of sisters to interrupt your thoughts as they were doing now.

Your eyes looked to the group of girls gathered outside the door to your father’s study, ears pressed against the wood. You gently bonked your sister Natasha on the head with your book when you saw her straining to hear whatever conversation was happening in the room.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop Natasha.” You scolded your older sister who’s beautiful face turned to a pout at your words. Although you were only the second child you often felt as if you were the oldest.

“Y/n this is different! Mother says Netherfield Park has let at last. It has a young, wealthy, and single inhabitant!” She protested, making you hesitate your retort.

Normally you were not one to indulge in your mother’s gossip about men, but the news piqued your interest. It was no secret to you or your sisters that your family was not doing well when it came to money. With your father aging more by the day and a cousin you hardly contacted set to inherit the property and everything on it once he died, things were not looking good. It was due to this that your mother was frantic when it came to setting up her daughters with suitable husbands. You sighed and pressed your ear to the door, knowing your mother was likely to attempt to set you or one of your sisters up with this newcomer, you were hoping to figure out some things about him before she did.

“How does his fortune affect our girls?” You heard your father, Mr. L/n, ask. You knew he knew the answer, your father was an intelligent man, he just found great enjoyment in pushing at your mothers buttons.

“Mr. L/n!” Mrs. L/n’s exasperated cry could be heard clearer than anything else that had been said earlier. It was as if she wanted the whole world to hear of her plights. “You know it matters because I intend to marry one of them to him!” Marriage seemed to be the only thing on your mothers mind, it was as if she was put on the earth for the sole purpose of getting you and your sisters a husband with good connections.

“Does the man get a choice in this?” You could hear your father chuckle and you had to bite back your own.

“The odds are in our favour with the amount of daughters we have, he very well might fall in love with one of them, which is why you must go see him at once!” Mrs. L/n pleaded, earning a sigh from Mr. L/n.

“You and the girls can go, or you can send them by themselves. Perhaps the latter will work out better, for you are as handsome as any of them. This Mr. Barnes may like you the best of the party if you are in attendance.” He flattered her. You knew it was a mix of sincerity and a way to distract her from her nagging. If nagging was something people could compete in, your mother would likely be world renowned for her skill. 

“My dear, you flatter me. I have had my fair share of beauty, however it is nothing extraordinary now.” Mrs. L/n paused for a second before seeming to remember her mission. “But Mr. L/n, You must visit him! Think of our daughters!”

The door opened, causing your sister Peggy to nearly fall to the ground, caught by your other sister Carol. The greying Mr. L/n smiled at the group of girls gathered outside the door before walking past them, chased by Mrs. L/n.

“Mr. L/n! Mr. L/n! Are you listening to me?” She called out as she followed him.

The older man paused, turning around to look at his wife and daughters who had followed them both. “I don’t see why I must go visit Mr. Barnes for a second time.” A sly grin spread onto his face.

“A second time?” Mrs. L/n gasped. “Oh, how could you tease me? Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?”

“On the contrary my dear, I have the utmost respect for them. They are my old friends, I’ve dealt with them countless times over the years.” He teased, earning an eye roll from his wife.

“Will he be attending the ball tomorrow?” Spoke up Sharon, excitement clearly shown on her face as she looked at your father expectantly.

“I believe so.” Mr. L/n replied, sitting down and watching as your sisters exploded with joy, chattering loudly about what they would wear and pestering him with questions about what the man was like.

You couldn’t help but smile and find yourself excited for the event. It had been a while since you last attended a ball and you looked forward to looking good and getting to see the strange new man. Netherfield Park was an amazing property, and you had heard many good things about the library of the place. The new tenant Mr. Barnes was likely to be an avid reader because of it, and if he was perhaps you could find a friend in him. 

A friend was all you were interested in. Whenever the topic of marriage came up you found yourself zoning out, much to your mothers dismay. Men were either too cocky or too daft, and always too easy to figure out. You wanted someone with substance, someone intelligent enough to keep his cards close to him, whose character you couldn’t figure out as easily as the rest. It would take characteristics like that for you to even begin to grow interest in a man, and even then only the deepest, truest love could persuade you into the chains of matrimony. 

-

The jovial air of the ball made a smile appear on your face as you stood in the corner of the room with Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was your very close and trusted friend despite being seven years older than you. Your mother often would go on rants about how you would end up just like her, an unmarried burden to your parents at twenty seven, but you ignored it. Your eyes were trained on the dancing people, your foot slightly tapping to the sound of the music until it suddenly stopped. Your attention snapped to the entrance of the room, spotting three newcomers, two men and a woman. 

“The man with the blue eyes is Mr. James Barnes and the woman is his sister Miss. Rebecca Barnes.” Wanda explained, noticing you and your sister’s confusion. Her father had brought her family to Netherfield to introduce themselves earlier.

“And the man with the bad attitude?” You asked, examining the man accompanying the two. He didn’t seem too happy to be here. He was extremely put together, not a hair out of place and his posture exuding importance. His brown eyes looked around the room, making those who they landed on wonder what they did to deserve the piercing look.

“Baron Helmut Zemo.” Wanda explained. “He comes from Sokovia, rumors say he owns about half of the country.” Your eyes hardened, assuming his reason for being so unimpressed with being in the room must have something to do with his wealth and not wanting to be around so many common people.

“The miserable half of Sokovia clearly.” You scoffed, unable to rip your eyes from him. He would have been attractive if not for the ill temper he seemed to have.

Wanda and Natasha laughed at your comment, the music soon resuming once the group made their way to the other end of the room. You couldn’t help but stare at them, your attention mostly on Baron Zemo as he spoke to no one, despite the Barnes siblings who he had come with mingling with others.

You felt a hand grab your arm and you turned your head to face the person, realizing it was your mother. “Y/n, come, I must have you and Natasha introduced to Mr. Barnes.” She said, hauling you away to the other side of the room as you gave Wanda a pleading look, although you knew she could do nothing to stop your determined mother.

“These are my daughters, Natasha my eldest, and Y/n the second. I have others but they’re already dancing.” She introduced you and your sister. You looked at the group, taking great effort to stop yourself from staring at the Baron, instead examining Mr. Barnes. 

Mr. Barnes was certainly handsome with his dark looks. He was well built, clearly a man who went outside quite a bit, and his striking blue eyes were filled with kindness but had a small darkness within them, despite that you read him as a kind and gentle man who worked past his past mistakes. His eyes stayed primarily on Natasha, and you couldn’t blame him. Natasha was always the most effortlessly stunning sister, but when it came to balls where she put effort in her appearance, she blew everyone away.

“Mr. Barnes, are you liking it here in Hertfordshire?” Asked Natasha, her eyes stayed on him as well. You allowed yourself to glance at the Baron while the two conversed, finding the man standing still and talking to no one, instead looking away from your group and watching the dancing crowd with an unreadable expression.

“Very much.” He replied. You turned your attention back to the conversation to not appear rude, Mr. Barnes was giving your sister a charming smile.

“I’ve heard the library at Netherfield is one of the finest in the country.” You added to the conversation.

“It fills me with guilt, I’m not a very avid reader.” You had expected this from his athletic stature. “I prefer being outdoors. I mean, I can read, and I’m not saying you can’t read outdoors.” He began to ramble, seemingly embarrassed. Despite his kindness he didn’t seem to be too good when it came to socializing, either that or Natasha’s beauty was distracting him as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her even when you had spoken.

“I wish I read more but it always seems as if there's other things to do.” Natasha spoke with a smile, saving Mr. Barnes from his awkward state. 

“That’s exactly what I meant!” He smiled, making Natasha smile in response. You knew they would get along well which would delight your mother.

You felt the warmth of someone's stare, turning your head to see Baron Zemo looking at you. Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones for a few moments, wordlessly trying to figure him out. You heard Mr. Barnes ask Natasha for a dance, and she accepted, leaving you with the Baron.

“Do you dance much, Baron?” You asked, hoping to ease the tension between you two by initiating a conversation.

“Not if I can help it.” He looked away, not seeming to be too pleased with being spoken to. The awkwardness of the moment threatened to consume you. You silently watched your sister dance for the duration of the song before heading to Wanda once it ended.

“What’s wrong?” She asked

“Baron Zemo is a dreadful conversationalist. He seemed so irritated with me just asking him a question, I can’t stand-” You were cut off with a shush, Wanda gesturing to where the Baron and Mr. Barnes were standing nearby, not noticing you two.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in one place in my life.” Mr. Barnes spoke to his friend.

“You were dancing with the only beauty in the room.” The Baron replied with a scoff.

“She was gorgeous, but what about her sister? Y/n I believe was her name. She seemed intelligent, she asked me about the library. Maybe the two of you would be a good match” He nudged the Baron who sent him a look. Their dynamic was odd, and Y/n couldn’t help but wonder how such a kind man became friends with a man like Baron Zemo.

“She’s tolerable, but isn’t handsome enough to tempt me.” He replied, the two walking away to where Miss. Barnes was. You didn’t care about Baron Zemo’s opinion, but you couldn't help but be offended at his remark.

“If he liked you, you’d have to speak with him. Count your blessings Y/n.” Wanda tried to cheer you up. 

You forced a convincing smile. “I wouldn’t dance with him for all of Sokovia anyways, let alone his miserable half.”

Your joke made Wanda laugh, but your insecurities began to creep through. You had to forcibly stop yourself from dwelling on the Baron's words. He was pompous and judgmental and not worth your time. You looked over to him briefly and saw him looking unimpressed with everything around him. Was that really the man you would let spoil your fun night? He was the most disagreeable and unpleasant man you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing you would never have to encounter him after this night.

You stood up, determined to make the best out of the night, and headed to find a partner to dance with. You didn’t want to give the Baron the honour of haunting your thoughts. However, it was hard to keep him out of your mind when as you got in place to dance you felt the prickling of his stare on your back.

-

Taglist:  @killeromanoff  @ay0nha @thesuitkovian @pedropascallovebot @trelaney @hibiscusgardenia @dxnxdjarxn @naivara-duneimith @hiraethmaximoff @farihafangirls @aisling1985 @literatureandqueen​ let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[my18thcenturysource]

Costume Analysis: Kitty, from BBC Ghosts.

Show: BBC Ghosts, Series 1.

Character: Kitty, played by Lolly Adefope.

Costume Design: Lucy Williams.

Set: 18th century England (for this particular character)

Yeii!! The long awaited and asked for post about Kitty IS FINALLY HERE. I’m so sorry for the wait XD I just wrote and lost this post so many times that I just could not post it properly! Sorry!

ANYWAY, let’s start with saying that Lolly Adefope is PERFECT in this role: she sweet and hilarious. Love her.

Now, let’s take a look at her general look: she’s wearing a purple robe à l’anglaise, with an open front, matching stomacher, and contrasting petticoat. The decorations on the gown match the petticoat, so it’s a nice colour play to see on the screen. She shows the lace engageantes (cuffs) coming out of the sleeves, and wears a semi-sheer fichu to cover her cleavage.

Thanks to the robes à l’anglaise and à la française post we all know that the front of Kitty’s dress could look different, but the chosen option is perfectly ok, and we also know that this dress evolved from the mantua with its back fitted with pleats) and became a very English gown, so the choice works great (even though I live for a French gown, this was the right choice). Judging by the gown’s silhouette and the hairstyle, Kitty died sometime in the 1760s or early 1770s.

That being said, let’s take a look at some more detailed takes (I might be too picky, sorry) about this whole outfit that I find odd and would like to change:

The fit. Somehow it looks that this dress is not structured enough nor fit properly for the actress, just looking at the way that the shape of her breasts is visible on the sides, or the way that the front curves inward at the top of the stomacher, is really weird. I really REALLY hope that the body shape of Lolly Adefope was not an excuse for this shitty fit because SHE PERFECT, OK? Now, What would I do? I’d lower the neckline of the stomacher to give the gown a more accurate feel for the 18th century, and keep the fichu covering the skin. I’d add fully boned stays to give the torso de proper conical shape, and (bigger) panniers to create the more striking contrast that is characteristic of the 18th century silhouette.

The trims. The trims are ridiculously small. The 18th century was all about go big or go home, so why do I see pleated satin RIBBON as the zig-zaging decoration of the torso, VERY small bows for the stomacher, and ridiculously tiny bows on the cuffs? WHY?!

As a fashion designer, you are to give balance to the garment, and of course to the garment ON a particular person. So, instead of the pleated ribbon, I’d let the big vertical pleats of the front to show themselves (I think they look pretty!), I’d make big bows of the same fabric for the stomacher, add a big ruffle on the sides of the front opening of skirt of the gown, and eliminate the cuff bow and just let the cuff show its pleats. I personally prefer everything on the same fabric, but if the camera reads better a contrasting petticoat and trims, go for them! JUST MAKE THEM BIGGER. I’d take the front of this dress as an inspiration:

Robe à la française, 1760s, Fashion Museum Bath.

The fabric. For a spectacular 18th century gown, the fabric is VERY important, especially if a brocade is going to be used. The purple fabric on this gown is small and kind of sad, since 18th century brocades tend to have bigger and/or contrasting motives. So, If a wonderful fabric is not to be found, I would stick to plain taffeta, since it looks great, is accurate, there are many colours to choose from, it’s very noble to sew, holds the shapes perfectly, all pleats look great, and (important for costume design), it can be found in several price points.

I perfectly understand the choice of avoiding any flashy fabrics or colours for Kitty (given her character), so I get the lack of colourful brocade, painted silk or stripes, so the right choice would be plain taffeta if a good brocade of a single colour is not found. Here some brocade ideas:

robe à l’anglaise, ca. 1747, altered 1770s // robe à l’anglaise, 1750-75 // robe à l’anglaise, ca. 1770 // robe à l’anglaise, 1740-60 // all British, all from The Metropolitan Museum of Art

The cuffs. I don’t hate the cuffs of the dress, and I like that they match the pleats of the open front, but I’d add a second row for the lace cuffs. It looks poor, or too small for the outfit.

Finally, let’s jump to beauty:

Hair. I LOVE THE HAIR. And I love that they used the natural texture of Black hair for the hairstyle (I think that the front puff is her hair and the rest is not, since the colour is different). Making her to wear a full wig with a hairstyle clearly referenced on White people’s hair would have been an easy (and lazy) choice, so I’m very happy they didn’t. They took good note of the choices made in Belle (2013) with Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s hairstyles, and made it work for  Lolly Adefope curlier and shorter hair.

Now, the secret for the death date of Kitty I give above is mostly her hairstyle, which is clearly from the 1760s or the first part of the 70s (before they went crazy with the size and height of hair). During the 1760s, the hair began to get higher (being about ¼ or ½ the length of the face), and it was styled in a relatively simple way in an egg shape an added a few decorations, like ribbons, pearls, flowers and feathers.

Portrait of a woman, ab. 1760-1780, Alessandro Longhi // Marie Suzanne Giroust Roslin,1770, Alexander Roslin // Maria Carolina de Habsburgo-Lorena, 1768, Anton Rafael Mengs // Portrait of Marie Antoinette, 1773, François-Hubert Drouais

Makeup. The makeup is clearly thought to appeal to a modern audience, so it’s pretty natural and rosy, which works for the character and the overall look of the show. Would I prefer a more accurate and extreme make? Not really? It doesn’t look like Kitty died during a party night or something like that, so having her with minimal makeup makes sense, and also the historical makeup would totally change the perception we as audience have of Kitty, since it’s much more exaggerated than our modern makeup.

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So, what do you all think? Was a little too picky? I mean, I hope I didn’t become one of those anal people who demand historical accuracy in media that is not required to. I try (with all my costume critiques) to step into the mind and work of a costume designer and improve the costumes through those lenses.

Thinking about what the costumes are for (tell us about the character, define the character aesthetic as an individual and within the show, set the time and place), the costume design of the show do all those things in a proper manner, so I think we can play and get a little picky with the details and how much we would like to make the show look better :)

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

Let me know your comments in a reblog or comment or ask or message XD

[miralia]

Speculation on the Historical Influences on the Kyoshi Warriors of Avatar

(Disclaimer: I know there are multiple influences. This is just something I found that I thought was really interesting. And we’re not going to get into how ATLA appropriated, appreciated, and cherry-picked Asian cultures. This is just a fun thing I found out. It might just be a coincidence. If you wanted an essay on “how terrible Bryke is”, go under the “anti bryke” tag and laugh at the toxicity. This is about history.)

I don’t know if this has been done already, but I was really excited when I found out, so I had to share!

So, I’m not quite sure how I found this out, but I think I was both off-and-on researching premodern combat weapons of different cultures (link here if you want to spend a few hours ogling swords and daggers) and trying to figure out what kinds of cultural things influenced the Kyoshi Warriors. I figured out (at least I’m pretty sure I did, sword experts feel free to correct me) that they do, in fact, wield the Japanese katana (I don’t know which period. Not trying to lump anything together, just thought it was best to refer to it as a collective for fear of being wrong). This was kind of odd to me, as the Earth Kingdom appeared to have *mainly* Tang and Qing dynasty influences. So I decided to dig a little deeper on this subject.

(SECOND Disclaimer: People more well-versed in the different parts of Asian culture I will be referencing can tell me I’m wrong in the comments and I’ll edit this. I really and truly am not trying to be offensive or say my opinion is correct blindly, but at the same time, I did do my research and that has to count for something.)

Introduction

I’m an ATLA nut, as well as an Asian women’s dress nut. I’ve made connections between real clothing and ATLA clothing before, but then realized that other people had already done it, and done it much better. 

But I haven’t seen anyone really talk about the inspiration behind the Kyoshi Warriors yet, besides a few mentions, so here I am with my two cents!

The First Thing (Swords)

The first thing I noticed that started me on this quest was realizing that the Kyoshi Warriors wield katanas (also called nihonto), as opposed to a Chinese weapon that would be more fitting for their position in the Earth kingdom (like we see with Jet’s hook swords). 

For clarification, I figured this out by using still frames of Suki from the show, then measuring the rough length of her sword to her height, approximating the length to see if it would be correct (it was). Then I watched the video of the Kyoshi Warriors’ fight with Team Azula, which is (if I’m not mistaken) the only time we actually see them use their swords as well as their fans. 

In a few frames, we can see Suki’s sword has the characteristic tsuka ito (cord wrap) around the hilt of her sword, a gold-colored habaki (blade collar), as well as a golden kashira (butt cap/pommel), paired with a golden fuchi (a band at the end of the handle before the tsuba (guard)) to make a fuchigashira. From what I can gather, these are usually intricately decorated, but we can blame early 2000s animation for exempting that detail.

But anyway, the presence of the katana got me thinking. What other Japanese influences are displayed in the Kyoshi Warriors?

(Actually, scratch that. The first thing that got me clued in to the presence of Japanese influence was the red and white makeup that the Warriors wear. It seemed similar to that of the geisha, but I disregarded this as it wasn’t similar enough to warrant real research on my part. Just google ‘geisha makeup’ and you’ll see what I mean.)

And the answer was: a good few. Something Mina Le (a fashion youtuber) already touched on in her video on Avatar. But the question is, what exactly influenced them?

So, back to katanas. Once I figured out that they wielded katanas, it was a simple conclusion that they drew inspiration from the samurai of feudal Japan.

War Fans (Tessen)

Another similarity that ties them into samurai are their characteristic fans.

I actually learned about the art of Japanese war fans (tessenjutsu) before I even watched Avatar. The fans called tessen are made out of iron, but the other types of war fans, gunsen and gunbai, don’t seem to fit the bill for what the Kyoshi Warriors use them for. So, instead of being made of iron, their fans are made out of a golden metal, probably to fit their gold-and-green aesthetic.

An illustration of a warrior using a tessen.

The way they use these tessen to fight is debatably accurate. I have never studied tessenjutsu, nor do I really trust modern videos of tessenjutsu, so I have no basis. But it is said that wielders would use one to attack and one to parry, and that does seem to be somewhat what they do? Not sure if their forms or usage or that one time that one girl threw both her fans at Azula like some sort of razor-sharp Frisbee is accurate. Tessenjutsu practitioners, feel free to correct me!

But all this talk about fans and swords isn’t coming to the real core of my speculation. There is one crucial fact: samurai are men. But the Kyoshi Warriors are girls. Were there any female samurai?

The Onna-Bugeisha

Yes, there were! They were called onna-bugeisha, literally meaning “female martial artist.” You can read more about the onna-bugeisha on their Wikipedia page.

Let’s start with the similarities between the Kyoshi Warriors and the onna-bugeisha. 

Clothing/Armor

The first, and most obvious, is their clothing. The onna-bugeisha appear to wear both the traditional kimono or large, loose pants in illustrations. This really does seem to differ a lot based on source material, and I’m not knowledgeable enough to really affirmatively say why. But they do appear wearing the pants when riding horses, and the kimono when they’re standing or looking super regal in the illustrations.

Empress Jingū, a mythological example of onna-bugeisha. She became empress after her husband, the fourteenth emperor Chūai, was slain in battle. She is said to have led an expedition to Korea around 200 AD, and was the first woman on a Japanese banknote. This illustration is probably not accurate, as it was made by a European man, but it does illustrate one of the earliest known cases of onna-bugeisha in Japanese culture.

Hangaku Gozen, a famous general of the Genpei War (allied with the Taira clan).

The Kyoshi Warriors!

Bryke/the animators chose the dress route for making the Kyoshi Warriors, dressing them in split-front dresses colored in shades of green, with a dark green layered underdress under a lighter green overdress crossed left over right at the collar (like many, many different kinds of traditional Asian women’s dress). The coloration appears to be more to signify “Earth Kingdom” than to be historically accurate to the onna-bugeisha, something that was probably a good idea. Remember, this was made to be a kids’ adventure show, and they had already established the color-coding based on country. 

The sleeves are voluminous, which is definitely a characteristic of the onna-bugeisha. They are cinched at the wrists with dark cuffs, which isn’t a characteristic of all the different illustrations/photographs, but is certainly present in some. These cuffs are paired with two-toned gloves, which are always a good idea in any kind of weapon battle, but aren’t present in many, if any, photographs, but at least in some illustrations.

Partially covering the dresses is the thing that most tipped me off: the armor. It seems to be of black plating, which bears a striking resemblance to the plating/ridging on the onna-bugeisha’s armor. The chestplate itself bears a really, really close resemblance (if it isn’t an exact copy) to the chestplates of the onna-bugeisha, though the color isn’t the striking red that seems to appear a lot of the time. The rectangular shoulder/upper arm plating that is present in nearly all depictions is severely lacking, however, though this seems to be a choice to make the Warriors seem less bulky and more dynamic. Plus, it would be easier to animate. (They do have slimmer shoulder plates that attach, though.)

But the (for lack of a better word) skirt plates of the armor remain really, really similar to the onna-bugeishas’ armor. It really just looks like a scaled-down, black instead of red version. And I think that’s super cool, and one of the best pieces of evidence that backs my theory.

Topping off the “Kyoshi look” are gold-and-green headpieces that are different depending on the warrior, and a hairstyle that differs depending on the warrior. I’ll probably go more in-depth about the headpieces and hairstyles on a different post, but the gist is that yes, the presence of headpieces is historically accurate, at least in some photos/illustrations (which appears to be the norm. Can I ever get something concrete here?). 

Examples of onna-bugeisha wearing headpieces.

All of them wore helmets (obviously), but some seem to have some sort of decorative aspect (again, tell me if I’m wrong and the pieces have a meaning or purpose). 

Edit: One commenter, @atla-headcanons​, said that their Japanese grandmother once said that warriors’ headdresses were status symbols, as well as ways to tell allies from enemies. This would be supported by the fact that Suki, as the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, would have a headpiece similar to Kyoshi’s, and the rest of the Warriors would have different ones. I was unable to fact-check this at the time (may return to it later), but it seems likely, and it would be really cool if it was intentional on the characters’ designs!

Avatar Kyoshi 

The second thing that made me speculate whether the Kyoshi Warriors were connected to the onna-bugeisha was actually Kyoshi herself.

We all know about badass Avatar Kyoshi. She’s amazing. A definite certified badass. But there might actually have been a real-world counterpart to her. Nakano Takeko, a famous onna-bugeisha of the Aizu Domain who fought and died in the Boshin War, could have been possible inspiration for her.

Statue of Nakano Takeko. I don’t trust that the pictures on Pinterest are actually her.

Not only is Nakano a certified badass, taking down five to six men with her naginata in the Battle of Aizu, she also taught women and children to fight with the naginata for a time. Sound familiar? It might just be a coincidence, but I’m sticking to my theory here. You can read more about her here, but I’ll give a rundown of the highlights that make her a Kyoshi-Level Badass™:

- Taught naginata to the lord of Niwase’s wife

- Taught naginata to women and children in Aizuwakamatsu castle

An onna-bugeisha wielding a naginata. They’re pretty awesome!

-  Worked in defense of the shōgun Tokugawa Yoshinobu

- Fought in the Battle of Aizu using a Japanese weapon (naginata) against a white weapon (guns)

- Created and headed an ad-hoc group of female warriors in the Battle of Aizu, retroactively called the Jōshitai (Girls’ Army). She did this without permission, as the senior Aizu retainers didn’t want them to fight and wouldn’t let them fight as an official part of the domain’s army

- When she was taken down by a rifle shot to her chest, she asked her sister Yūko to behead her so that the enemy couldn’t take it as a trophy. Her sister employed the help of Ueno Yoshisaburō, and did as she was asked

- With the reforms of the Meiji Era (samurai class abolished, western-style army established), Nakano Takeko was one of the last samurai in history.

Conclusion

That concludes my essay! Remember, this is all speculation. If you have your own take, please tell me! I love hearing all the cultural influences in Avatar.

Now, if Bryke meant to make the Kyoshi Warriors to be inspired by the onna-bugeisha, then there is something more that I would have liked to see. It would have been really cool to see them use naginata in the show, as it was actually originally a weapon for females to use, its length compensating for the smaller body size and comparatively lesser brute strength of women warriors.

(Also, I just want Suki utterly destroying Sokka with a naginata in that episode where she kicks his butt to prove a point. Hey, I’m a simple girl with simple tastes.) 

Sources:

Basically all Wikipedia. I’m sorry I couldn’t reference, like, ebooks on this subject. But I did look at the reference lists for the Wikipedia articles I used, and they all seemed to be credible ones. So, don’t come at me, please! I did the best I could!

I really appreciate whoever read this far. It takes stamina! 

Thanks for reading!

[marysfoxmask]

the secret garden (1949) - why it’s my favorite adaptation

hello @renee-mariposa! thank you so much for the ask! while i believe i have answered a question like this before, i don’t think i’ve elaborated as much as i’d like to. so allow me to wax poetic on my favorite adaptation, the secret garden (1949)!

intro

this adaptation really stands out, i think, because of the the era it was made in; i don’t think you could get an adaptation aimed towards kids that is such a sentimental, gothic-lite melodrama with these days, at least without aggressively telegraphing its more emotional moments a la pixar/disney; it’s amusingly blunt and straightforward in that regard, much like the children at its center. there’s not much syrupiness at all. the child actors (margaret o’brien as mary and dean stockwell as colin) are fast-talking as any actor of that era, but in my opinion, the film’s clearly scripted dialogue just makes all the kids seem amusingly precocious.

actors

margaret o’brien as mary is great. i love her stridency, her snobbishness. unlike other adaptations, which downplay mary’s contrariness to the point where her character arc comes across as too subtle by half, the movie upgrades it. not only is 1949 mary contrary, her sullenness has been replaced by a shrillness, snobbery, and the tendency to run to emotional extremes (not to mention a healthy helping of classism). she alienates herself from the other children on the ship to england purposefully, finding them inferior to herself, then attempts to physically fight another passenger when the child calls archibald a hunchback. while this characterization isn’t book-accurate (book mary is a mix of fiery and sullen that none of the films capture accurately imo), i prefer this characterization of her to the closed-off sullenness of the 1993 version or the palatably traumatized 2020 version. 1949 mary isn’t given an obvious freudian excuse for her issues; her parents are just as neglectful, but the film puts the onus on mary for being contrary, which is weirdly refreshing and more attuned to the novel’s perspective. (that isn’t to say that mary’s traumatic early childhood didn’t inform her character in any meaningful way, or that the adults around mary aren’t responsible for how she turned out--but imo the films tend to take an un-nuanced view of the situation in order to make her a more palatable, sympathetic character, which is vastly less interesting than a complicated, flawed one no matter if the character is a child or not). when mary’s character develops and she becomes sweeter, it’s much more impactful as a result of this earlier narrative choice.

brian roper, who was 20 at the time (crazy, right?), plays dickon, and he plays him with a sweet affability that’s hard not to enjoy. he’s a little mischievous, laughing at mary when she accidentally speaks yorkshire (i’ll talk about that in a bit), and has, in a nice touch that i’ve strangely only seen in in the 1994 straight-to-dvd animated film, just as much of a passionate interest in the secret garden as mary does. dickon isn’t treated as mystically as other adaptations, save for the tendency to disappear strangely quickly just when mary happens to turn around (which is a nice nod to his quasi-magical aspects without being distracting, and also adds to mary’s sense of displacement/confusion on the mysterious misselthwaite grounds). he also gets a surprising amount to do in this adaptation, which i love, as someone who strongly believes his character has been under-served in all the film adaptations thus far. in this film, he gets to even enter misselthwaite manor by climbing up ivy into colin’s room in the middle of a storm (albeit offscreen), which is just the kind of adventurous, dramatic touch i enjoy. he also gets probably more dialogue than any of the other dickons (whoo!), as he makes a couple minor declarations--nothing super ham-fisted and melodramatic, as i said the screenplay is rather straightforward and devoid of a lot of corniness you might expect from a children’s film made in the ‘40s, especially with this kind of source material--that are heartfelt without being cloying (one of the benefits of having an older actor playing this kind of role).

colin, played by dean stockwell, is a weaker element to me. he does a good job alternating between screaming (and this movie contains a lot of screaming) and being sweet when the movie calls for it, but i don’t think he was the best choice for colin. while i think it’s awful to criticize a teen actor (stockwell was 13 at the time) for being baby-faced, the fact that he looks significantly younger than o’brien (who was 12) means that his tantrums come off as less a result of arrested development than they should. while he speaks as stiltedly as 2020 colin (who i personally think was one of the best elements of that film), it’s unclear whether that’s the result of the ‘40s fashion of expressing dialogue or a characteristic choice (i’m guessing the former). he can’t help but pale compared to o’brien’s mary, though he is perfectly adequate. he just didn’t stand out for me.

i summed up my feelings of elsa lanchester as martha in my previous, brief review of the movie back in june: “the one major flaw, i think, is actually martha, played by elsa lanchester; her portrayal is odd, feels definitely tone-deaf. her constant shrieking laughter feels very forced and unconvincing. in her few scenes, she jars everything to a halt in terms of believability.” she was significantly older than brian roper, being in her ‘40s playing a character heavily implied to be in her mid-teens to early twenties, and as a result feels out of her depth. her establishing scene is probably the worst, although i’ve warmed to her other scenes as time’s gone by.

tone/atmosphere

in general, i think the ‘49 film does a wonderful job expressing the gothic implications of the original book, even emphasizing them by casting misselthwaite manor largely in shadow and having mary and mrs. medlock first arrive in a carriage pulled by black horses on a dark, stormy night. it makes the bright outdoor scenery seem that much more inviting in comparison. burnett’s robin is also replaced by a raven, who also takes on aspects of dickon’s crow soot, as he is friends with dickon and hops on his shoulder occasionally. while it divulges from burnett’s book, i think a raven makes a little more sense in this adaptation, which amps up the eeriness of the original story; it gives mary’s journey a little more of a fairytale aspect, i think, and is overall an understandable and palatable change.

plot

the big plot development that divulges from the novel is the presence of a subplot where, due to a misunderstanding of an axe and a tree in the titular garden, mary and dickon fall under the impression that archibald killed lilias. now, this is a pretty bizarre plot, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t take up much of the film; it’s charming in its strangeness, and fits well with the idea of innocent children struggling to understand the complicated adult world—which is itself a theme original to the story that i’m kind of a sucker for, in general. it also serves as a bonding point for dickon and mary, whose friendship largely feels passed over in film adaptations.

and, of course, there’s the big plot-breaking point near the end, where archibald goes to tell colin that he’s selling misselthwaite and going to move to europe with him. an obvious plot point that conflicts with this scene is that colin, in the book, has no relationship with his father. again, it’s an odd adaptational choice meant to amp up the stakes, but it doesn’t impede my enjoyment of the film as a whole. the presence of two doctors—one, a hapless neville craven figure named dr. griddlestone, and the other is obviously inspired from the book’s “doctor from london,” who insisted all colin needed was fresh air, food, and exercise—gives the film some psychological weight. despite the disappointing element of all of colin’s neuroses being blatantly the result of his father’s emotional ailments, which i think is a lazy way of reading the original novel’s portrayal of colin’s illness, i think the way this development was executed in the film was tolerable—and i’m a sucker for children’s films that don’t think anything of including long conversations between adults about psychological issues. like, you can’t help but respect a film like that!

the garden

something i also love about this adaptation is that the garden isn’t a huge part of it; it represents more of a place where mary and dickon and colin can foster ideas and grow rather than a place of orgasmic beauty. there’s not a surplus of lavish panning shots, really, like in the ‘93 film, and it lacks the magical realism of the 2020 film. the garden itself is more transparently a plot device, which i actually like—it gives more room for the children to center themselves.

individual scenes

and the pacing of the film is actually really nice, i think—probably the best out of all the films. i love the ‘93 film with all my heart, and it’s definitely gorgeous in its own right, but i think it gets a little sluggish; this film is paced beautifully. there’s no fat, really. 

there’s a scene i really love that shows the passage of time from winter to spring in a super succinct, stupidly obvious way that nonetheless works because of the innocent sweetness of o’brien’s delivery. like, it’s very old-fashioned and sentimental, but gah, it gets me every time.

it’s time to talk about the scream scene!

this film stole my heart the minute mary screamed wholeheartedly at colin that she hopes he dies. there’s a dark comedy to this whole scene; these two maladjusted, spoiled children trying to out-scream one another while tearing down curtains and knocking down tables full of food higgledy-piggledy?? you just can’t get better than that!

if you’re adapting the secret garden, i strongly feel you can’t soften the children’s meanness, their sharpness and ugliness. their tantrums must be harsh and grating and horrible! they have to really let loose! the rawness of the children’s emotional dysfunction contrasted against the buttoned-up stiffness of edwardian england is one of the fascinating aspects of the novel i love to think about, and you just can’t get that contrast if you don’t have the children be genuine terrors! i think this scene puts that nicely, more nicely than any of the other films, which pussyfoot around colin’s intense tantrum too much to be nearly as effective. i get giddy whenever this scene comes on; it’s brilliant.

there are so many little details from the book that i love: that the children speak yorkshire to one another, mary singing her ayah’s song to colin, 

dickon’s “i will cum bak” note (here written as “i will kum back”), the mention of dickon’s mother sending them bread to eat to make them strong. it’s all so nicely implemented, and reminds me of the joy of reading the book for the first time.

but the scene i love most is one entirely made up for the film. in it, mary tells colin about the garden, but wraps it up in fiction wherein it’s a sort of child’s eden, only accessible for children like themselves. that gets to the heart of why i love the book moreso than any other adaptation i can think of. it’s a children’s paradise where the innocent, inherent goodness of children reigns. it makes me tear up almost every time, despite the scene’s brevity.

miscellaneous

there are some little details that i love about this film: the fact that mrs. sowerby is spotted in one scene where we see dickon at his home, feeding a lamb (and the implication that mary was so darn excited about finding the key to the garden that she ran all the way to the sowerbys’ cottage, five miles away from misselthwaite, to show dickon), mary’s clearly false story to colin about being surrounded by tigers and elephants in india, mary threatening to tear people’s gizzards out, mary telling dickon she hates him because he (gasp) dared to know about colin so she couldn’t reveal his existence to him...there’s a lot to enjoy about this film. it definitely isn’t the most accurate to the book, but it’s one of those films that i could watch over and over again.

aside from some superfluous subplots, it’s a lean adaptation that still captures all the essential elements of the book to at least to a degree. i can easily imagine some very indignant little girls in 1949 insisting that no, the raven was a robin in the book, and there was no implications of murder, either, but i love it in all its simplicity. i think you need a little old-fashioned sentiment to make a film adaptation of the secret garden successful.

[jurassicparkpodcast]

James Ronan's Top 5 Jurassic Park 3 Film Moments

The third article in this series counting down my Top 5 film moments looks at the 2001 Jurassic film Jurassic Park 3. Considered by many fans to be the black sheep of the Jurassic Park film series. (Thanks to the Jurassic Vault for the great images)

Jurassic Park 3 had a very troubled development. Directed by Joe Johnston (the first time for the franchise to have another director other than Spielberg) the film never had a final draft of the script before shooting. It released with mixed reviews and only made $368 million on a $93 million budget. It remains the lowest grossing Jurassic Park film and one of the most controversial in terms of canon consistency within the franchise. I decided to take the opportunity to now go over some of my Top 5 film moments from JP3 as the film celebrated its 19th anniversary back in late July. Strangely Universal seems to have a problem remembering the dates of theatrical release for the Jurassic films. Jurassic Park 3 according to the Jurassic World Twitter account released on July 17th, 2001 but in fact it actually released on July 18th, 2001 theatrically. Jurassic Outpost recently conducted a very interesting interview with Shelly Johnson the Cinematographer on JP3, it is well worth checking out for some in-depth film insight on the production and development of the film.

Before I get into my Top 5 moments, I want to just mention a few of the reasons why JP3 remains a controversial instalment in the Jurassic Park series among the fandom. Jurassic Park 3 again takes place on the island of Isla Sorna, the same island that was seen in The Lost World: Jurassic Park. Sorna in JP3 looks radically different in terms of flora compared with what was seen in The Lost World with lush tropical forests compared to the redwoods seen throughout most of the previous film. Many fans speculate that Sorna has a diverse flora on the island with different biomes being separated by the different sides of the island. It was an interesting choice to change the vegetation from what was seen in The Lost World for the third film and remains a debated topic within the fandom.

We are also introduced once again to some new Velociraptors in Jurassic Park 3. These Raptors are more intelligent than the previous Raptors we have seen throughout the series. Behaviour of the Raptors is a big plot point of the film with Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ellie Sattler discussing their intelligence, before we get a scene of Billy showcasing a 3D model of a Velociraptor resonating chamber. The Male Raptors are shown with quills on the backs of their head and neck, a palaeontology characteristic introduced to make the Raptors a bit more accurate and to appease fans who wanted to see feathers on display in the film. Speaking of Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ellie Sattler both Sam Neill and Laura Dern return to Jurassic Park 3 with Sam Neill again in a major role, despite both actors missing from the previous instalment in the franchise. Whilst Sam Neill and Laura Dern’s return to the franchise was most welcome, many fans had and continue to take issue with how their relationship changes from Jurassic Park to Jurassic Park 3. With Ellie now married to Mark Deggler (who works for the US State Department) who she has two children with. Alan is very much on his own and still working on dinosaurs helping palaeontology students like Billy Brennan. Whilst I am very much excited for Sam Neill and Laura Dern’s re-appearance in Jurassic World: Dominion, I am really hoping they keep the dynamic they had as friends from JP3 and don’t break up the family Ellie had in the third film. Just leave it be, as Jurassic World: Dominion has enough to cover as it is following on from Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. Another issue JP3 brought up is around the Pteranodons being shown free at the end of TLW and another species of Pteranodon being caged up and finally getting free during the events of the third film.  Whilst these issues may seem trivial to some, Jurassic Park 3 does not really address any of them, which is why they remain hotly debated topics within the fandom.

Unlike the previous films John Williams does not return to score the film. Don Davis takes on the composer role with a soundtrack that is quite different from the past Jurassic films but still retains some of the classic Jurassic themes. Jurassic Park 3 is my least favourite film in the franchise, but the film does have some great sequences and character moments that are worth looking at so let’s break down what moments really impacted me shall we?

5. Billy Stop! (The Pteranodon Attack Sequence)

The Pteranodon attack sequence is up as my 5th Top moment from the film. Many fans including me love the Pteranodon Aviary design, the layout, and the amount of mist throughout the sequence which really set the scene as a completely strange and unknown part of Isla Sorna. The Pteranodons themselves showcase behaviour which can be related to the original Jurassic Park novel. The Aviary sequence in the original novel is very different, but it was nice to see that JP3 took that sequence as inspiration and made its own thing whilst still referring to the original novel with Alan, Lex, and Tim. We knew Billy would end up using the parachute further on in the movie as when they first discover it, after the Spinosaurus attack sequence Grant asks Billy “if he can fly one of those?” Overall, the sequence is well done and when Billy gets attacked by the Pteranodons in the water, the attack is brutal.

The music by Don Davis in this scene also amps up the horror of Billy being tortured in the water as he goes down stream whilst another Pteranodon turns and looks at both Dr. Grant and Paul Kirby. It is surprisingly quite a dark scene for JP3 which overall has the lightest tone of any Jurassic film. Ultimately Billy survives the attack sequence, which for me really negates the impact of the attack in the first place. If anything, it would have been more appropriate for Dr. Grant to have found Billy’s body later on washed up on a riverbank, with Billy holding Dr. Grant's hat. Not only would have it been a poignant moment, but it would have aided Grant’s development further to have lost a student on such an expedition that ultimately shouldn’t have occurred in the first place.

4. What’s a bad idea? (The Spinosaurus Plane Attack)

I think many JP3 fans might be surprised that this is 4th on my list in terms of Top moments in JP3. But my main complaints in this scene relate to the behaviour of the Spinosaurus aegyptiacus itself which as a plot device, seems to have a knack for following the main group around the island. The death of Cooper is so well done and is in my opinion the best death in JP3 period. The setup for the Spinosaurus from Coopers death is so well done that the aeroplane attack sequence just doesn’t live up to the awesome death we just saw moments before. We also don’t see any remorse or loss from Udesky or any of the group that Cooper and Nash have just died after the plane attack and it is just odd to say the least in the context of the film.

I do have issues with how the plane attack sequence takes place. The fact that the Spinosaurus can track down the plane after it crashes rather quickly without anyone hearing it approach until it breaks open the plane is a major problem I have. Whilst this type of issue can also be compared to the Tyrannosaurus Rex appearance in the Visitor Centre at the end of Jurassic Park, how this scene takes place in JP3 with the Spinosaurus is very different. We assume that the Spinosaurus is a fairly intelligent animal to have tracked the group down and to destroy the plane the way it does, but later on in the film when it finds the group at the fence and also attacks the boat on the river we see that the animal doesn’t have much behaviour at all. Unfortunately, the animal is only used in servicing the plot and we don’t see anything more to it then to just act as a B movie monster. I really like the Spinosaurus design for what it was/is and the animatronic as well as the CGI still look really good on screen, despite the animatronic being stiff in some sequences.

I do like the scene when the plane falls out of the tree and the group are all screaming as we get a cool shot of the plane just crunching up as it hits the ground under its immense weight. It is also the first and only sequence throughout the films where an aeroplane comes under attack from a dinosaur. It makes my 4th spot though for setting up the Spinosaurus for what it ultimately is, a movie monster with little character. It is a shame that the Spinosaurus is showcased this way because it was the first Spinosaurid to be featured in a Jurassic Park film. Ultimately a lot of this comes down to the filmmakers deciding that a bigger and scary dinosaur needed to take down the T.Rex and become the focal point for the film. But the Spinosaurus lacks animalistic behaviour, something we saw more from the other dinosaurs throughout the previous two films. We never see it drink; we never see it sleep. We don’t see it hunt other dinosaurs (apart from the T.Rex kill) or fish despite spooking them in the river. It is just there to chase the group around the island and in its final scene, it runs away from fire and is never seen again.

3. Brachiosaurus on the Bank

Third on my list takes place after one of my favourite JP discussions throughout the films. I must quote it below because not only is it so poignant in the context of the film but is one of those moments in JP3 that was needed a bit more throughout.

Dr. Grant: I have a theory that there are two kinds of boys. There are those that want to be astronomers, and those that want to be astronauts. The astronomer, or the palaeontologist, gets to study these amazing things from a place of complete safety.

Erik: But then you never get to go into space.

Dr. Grant: Exactly. That's the difference between imagining and seeing: to be able to touch them. And that's... that's all that Billy wanted.

This discussion between Alan and Eric was another plot point that made me want to pursue palaeontology as a career. My dream career after seeing Jurassic Park was palaeontology but this discussion in JP3 also hit me and has stuck with me ever since I saw the film back in 2001. However, whilst this discussion has resonated with me a lot over the years, I want to discuss the scene after, where we see most of the herbivores of Isla Sorna along the river whilst the classic Jurassic theme is played. Probably one of the mot awe-inspiring moments in the film, echoing the Brachiosaurus scene in Jurassic Park.

We see four Brachiosaurs alongside two Ankylosaurs, a herd of Stegosaurs and a few Parasaurolophus in the background. All the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park 3 are depicted with the most colourful designs we have seen throughout the first three films. The Brachiosaurs in particular display a very distinct patterning with a red skull and orange eyes. As someone who likes the improvements in colour design that the dinosaurs display in JP3 the Brachiosaur colour design is bizarre to say the least especially the skull where the redness is quite patchy. The eyes are also orange which contrasts too much with the red and the rest of the colour pattern. Regardless of the dinosaur designs the scene itself is set up and executed very well. The boat just casually glides down the river as the dinosaurs watch on. You really feel the size of the dinosaurs in this scene and it brings back that sense of wonder and awe of these creatures which we didn’t get in TLW apart from seeing the Stegosaurus herd for the first time. Whilst the river scene in JP3 is very brief it goes a long way to allowing the film some breathing room just taking in the dinosaurs in their island environment.

2. This is how you play God. (The INGEN compound)

Down to the final two now! My second on my list of Top moments must be the INGEN compound and its exploration by the group of the genetics laboratory/Embryonics Administration. There are two key things that make this scene outstanding. The first is the set design which is incredible, especially with the sunlight coming in through the windows. I love the grittiness, dirtiness, and rawness of how the genetics laboratory looks, as it was left after releasing the dinosaurs into the wild. We get a real sense of the experiments INGEN was doing on the dinosaurs with the green tanks as well as how they were looked after with the incubators. The second thing I love about this scene is the score that plays alongside it, called the Raptor Room. Again, this score is very reminiscent of the Hatching Baby Raptor theme from Jurassic Park and fits so incredibly well with the group walking through looking at what INGEN was doing. The theme captures that wonder of creation which we first saw in Jurassic Park with the hatchling baby Raptor but applies it in different circumstances whilst looking at experimental dinosaurs and hatched eggshells.

The INGEN compound is also a huge plot point in terms of INGENs operations on Sorna which was discussed in TLW where Hammond mentioned “Site B being the factory floor” for the dinosaurs. Here we truly get to see the factory floor in all its glory and for me it is one of the most interesting scenes in Jurassic Park 3. As someone who loves both the original novels, knowing that the INGEN genetics lab/compound is a huge part of the second book, I was thrilled when it was shown on Sorna within the film. The way this whole scene is shot remains for me one of my favourite scenes in JP3 and it adds some really interesting backstory to INGEN as a company, how they operated and how things were left when they released the dinosaurs on Sorna and left the island.

1.  Dr. Alan Grant Palaeontology Lecture

Going full circle my Top favourite film moment within Jurassic Park 3 belongs to the man himself Dr. Alan Grant in his palaeontology presentation on Raptors. One of the earliest film scenes taking place only seven minutes in, the way this scene is presented shows what many palaeontologists do at some point in their lives, giving presentations/lectures to the public.  I really love the scene because it takes place like a proper lecture. It gives backstory to the viewer as to Alan's life as well as the current discussion going on regarding Raptor intelligence at the time, something of which is brought up throughout and becomes a focal point of the film's story. We see Raptor claws on display as Alan talks about the theories surrounding Raptor intelligence and behaviour.

Unlike Jurassic Park where palaeontology is seen in the field it is great to see JP3 embrace palaeontology talks to the public as it shows engagement with the wider audience and in this case the cinema audience. Obviously by now everyone in the lecture room knows about INGEN, Nublar and Sorna after the events of TLW due to the San Diego incident, and others like Ian Malcolm breaking NDA speaking out about what INGEN was doing and the deaths as a result. Alan calls INGEN out for “creating nothing more than theme park monsters, nothing more and nothing less” in the lecture room. This view changes again later in the film when Alan says to Billy on the plane “he forgotten”, referring to forgetting what it’s like to see a dinosaur for the first time. I enjoy the way the lecture talk plays out with Alan refusing to take questions relating to Jurassic Park and the San Diego incident. The fact that the Islands are such a present focus suggests that Alan just can’t get away from being linked to Jurassic Park and the events he was unfortunately involved in. What can be clearly seen is that Alan is tired of it all, he never wants to go back to the islands. He ultimately has a love hate relationship with the INGEN dinosaurs and what Jurassic Park was all about.

 Many fans like myself take issue with Grant going so easily to Sorna with the Kirby’s due to money and most fans agree that it is such a 180-character change after saying “no force on earth or heaven could get him there”. Ultimately though, Alan is very much impacted by past film events and it is shown throughout. It is just a shame that by the end of the film these changes throughout his character are just left, nothing is done with them at all. After surviving another close call of death on another dinosaur island Alan isn’t too worried about the creatures getting off or the Pteranodons leaving Sorna for new nesting grounds.

This contrasts greatly to Ian Malcolm’s view of the world and the destruction caused by the genetic power INGEN unleashed as he sees it. This is an underlying theme in TLW from Malcolm due to his involvement on the island and his injury but is seen much more bluntly in Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom. It will be interesting to see how these different views of INGENs dinosaurs will be shown when both Ian and Alan are shown on screen together in Jurassic World: Dominion. I would say Alan falls somewhere in the middle whilst Ian seems to be vehemently against genetic power being out in the world. Regardless of the changes to Grant's character throughout JP3 the palaeontology lecture is a great piece of exposition, backstory and set up for Raptor intelligence. As well as Alan's life in the spotlight and what many palaeontologists enjoy doing, giving thrilling lectures on dinosaurs to the public. Because it is filmed so well and so enjoyable to watch it makes my number one spot as my favourite film moment from Jurassic Park 3.

Written by: James Ronan

[darklingichor]

Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell

Buckle in kids, this one has my analytical muscles flexing!

I always said that I absorbed some of this epic through osmosis. GWTW is my mom's favorite book and one of her favorite movies. I remember wandering in and out of the living room at least once a year while she watched it. I would listen with half an ear as I played in the other room. A movie so long as to have an intermission just couldn't keep my attention as a kid. Of course I knew the story, just like I knew the story of a lot of fairy tales that I'd never actually had read to me. I didn't actually sit down and watch the movie in it's entirety until I was in my 20's. I liked it. It was well made, the acting was great and the story for all it's wince worthy moments and the surface polishing of such an ugly period in american history, was compelling.

I've never been able to get through the actual book. The reasons are going to sound a little silly. When I was younger, I thought : Why read it? I know the story. Tara is a plantation pre civil war, Scarlett lives at Tara, she's spoiled, she marries out of spite, gets widowed, Atlanta burns, she and her family become poor after the war, "As God is my witness, I shall never be hungry again" she works hard, almost loses Tara, she marries for money, saves Tara, works hard, is widowed again, marries again, rocky relationship, a child passes, "Frankly my dear, I don't give damn", end credits. In between she pines over a guy she can't have, and manages to be all around an unpleasant person in general. Done and done.  I was probably too young to read it then anyway.

When I got older and realized that a book could be complex with horrible things in it. I thought I should read it. But, every copy of the book I seemed to find had tiny tiny print and no paragraph breaks (the later being a a typical writing characteristic in the past). Even with my glasses I have a hard time reading a book in that format. I skip lines, reread lines, I always end up,with a,pounding headache. No matter how good the story it's hard to get into when you can't physically read it. I had the same problem with Little Women. I eventually got through it but it was difficult.

Well, now there's audible. For once, I didn't have a book I was chomping at the bit to listen to and I thought: Why not? I listened to other books I couldn't get into for whatever reason. So, one credit and 48 hours (spread out over the last three weeks) later. I made it through.

Let me say, this novel is rich in language, as in it is well written and has much to analyze. But every time the n-word was said I flinched. Every time a black person was infatlized, or threatened, I felt angry, I was pissed off by the caricatures and happy slave narritive. Everything I have read about the author points to her evolving her views on black people after her novel, which is good. However, it doesn't make the characterization of black people any easier to read. There are racist things in the book, writing about a bunch of well to do people in the antebellum south, I'm not sure how an author could avoid it without Clorox-ing history, which honestly, she did enough of with her mythical view of the way enslaved people were treated and felt. It was a narrative I often heard in school, in the PNW, in the 90's.

The story went that depending on where someone fit into the hierarchy of slaves, some were well treated and loved. Because of this, when emancipation came, some slaves were afraid to be, or didn't want to be free. This of course served the purpose of making an awful period in US history seem softer than it was. "Sure it was bad, but it wasn't that bad."

As I studied more, this viewpoint was replaced with a "Nope, this was just bad, as in monumentally criminally bad."

I think Mitchell, when she wrote the book, thought she was being accurate, but considering she learned her history from veterens of The Confederacy, it is not surprising that she was wrong.

Because of the one dimensional way that black people were written, it's hard for me to really dig into the symbolism of their characters. I'm only marganially good at this, as you will soon see.

I will say this: I liked the book for many of the same reasons my mom gave me for loving it. For it's descriptions and it's style, for it's symbolism. I like it for it's depiction of a culture in flux, of the impact of war for those on the home front, of the all too human condition that one never sees one's self as the bad guy. I do not like it for the characters. Rhett is an asshole, Ashley has a lot in common with a wet towel, only less interesting. Melanie is okay but can at times, give one a toothache. Scarlett is a brat. The glorifying of a time when people owned other people is disturbing, full stop.

It was those parts that made me profoundly uncomfortable and I had to remind myself over and over that this was a novel about civil war Georgia and the rich people that inhabited it before, during, and directly after. This was how those people would think, talk and behave. It was wrong then, it's wrong now.

Now, I'm going to look at the symbolism in this book because I found it facinating.

Gone with the wind is far more complex than I thought when I was a kid or after I watched the movie. The collective consciousness holds Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara's romance to be the heart of the story... But it's not. Scarlett herself is the heart of the story. Honestly, Rhett driffs in and out when Scarlett needs either a dose of levity, a hard dose of truth, or a leg up on a hard fight. He doesn't rescue her, he helps her get the tools, and shows her the path to rescue herself.

Scarlett is an odd character. She has so many good points and bad points that she is nearly neutral. She's self-centered, but will fiercely care for and look after those she considers family, or as she calls them "my own". She will, on the surface ( for as the book says, it was all surface with her) resent every step taken, dollar spent, or moment given but she will keep doing it. She's opportunistic and ruthless with it, but she doesn't do it for the hell of it, she does it when backed into a corner. She's inpatient with her children, but her actions show that she loves them. She wants to do right by the social customs she was raised with and that the South cling to even after the war, but she's far too practical to pay them any more than lip service unless they fit her purposes.

Katie Scarlett O'Hara *is* rural Georgia. The colors that are always used to describe the land and Tara are red, green, black and white. In Scarlett we have described, red lips, green eyes ("without a hint of hazel"), white skin and black hair. She often wears these colors as well. Scarlett grows and changes along with Georgia and in fact, the reader is treated to the change of Georgia in a way that makes it more important than the changes of the characters. There are long stretches of discription of Georgia, especially Clayton County where Tara is. Long passages of the feelings of Georgia's people, before, during and after the war. Scarlett's life story from age 16 to age 28 are placed in between, and I have to think that the composition of the book was deliberate (I've never read any literary analysis GWTW, this is just me rambling). 

Scarlett is told by her father, early in the book, that an Irishman's land is like his mother. Gerald O'Hara, an Irish immigrant, goes on to tell her that this kinship to the land is the same for anyone with a drop of Irish blood. In Scarlett, this goes further, for not only is the land her mother, she is,truly it's daughter.

Since she only swims in the shallow depths of her mind, she is unaware of her deeper waters. She does have them, she just pays no attention to what lives there. Weirdly, what lives there is what truly moves her. Early in the book the reader is told that although she didn't know it, she loved Tara, she was at peace there.

Nature is neutral,nature doesn't care about wars, politics or customs. At her core Scarlett doesn't care about these things either. Throughout the book the reader is told, that Scarlett doesn't care about anything that didn't directly affect her. This is true, and she is called out  fairly often by other characters for being self-centered. However, her selfishness has a different feel than say, Bella Swan, Veruca Salt, or various other literary brats.

Scarlett feels less like one only,out to further her own interests and more like one who is trying to maintain her niche in her environment. For a living thing to thrive, their environment must support them. When an environment changes, the living thing either adapts or dies. Scarlett adapted.

Unable to convince Ashley Wilkes to break his engagement to Melanie Hamilton, being more obvious about her feelings for him than she thought, facing shame and questions to her reputation that would devastate her social standing and also possibly damage her family, she took swift action. She married Charles Hamilton, Melanie's brother. Why? It would shut up those who thought her in love with Ashley, thus saving her reputation. Plus, she figured it would hurt those she saw,as a threat to her. Like a river wearing a path around a tree, she avoided the obstical and continued on.

So if Scarlett is Georgia what about our other big characters?

Rhett is change, and time, like Scarlett he's nearly morally neutral.

Ashley is the past, he's the southern gentleman that the culture out grew.

Melanie a sheltering force. She reads as sweet and proper, but is always supporting Scarlett, even when her choices do not line up with the social system.

So, let's look at each of these characters in relation to our green-eyed force of nature.

I’m going to start with Ashley. Scarlett is fixated on him from the beginning. One can make many arguments as to why. He’s the only man not falling all over himself to get her attention, he very much represents the white knight to her, having “fallen in love” with him when he rode up to Tara after being away from Twelve Oaks, the reason as old as time, because she can’t have him, and her father says he’s not a good match for her. All of these are true, but to look at it from the symbolism angle:

Scarlett is Georgia,. The land and the plantation culture, she’s comfortable in her world at the start of the book. She doesn’t care at all about the war. It’s something that’s happening around her, something she is dreadfully bored by. Ashley represents that comfort, being with him means keeping things the same, staying the girl who only has to worry herself with parties, and being a plantation wife. Life would be slow and easy.

Time goes on, when everything goes wrong and Tara falls into poverty, Scarlett adapts. This girl who only a few years before married a man to save face, had never expected to work, now has to bust her tail trying to keep everyone fed. She wants Ashley, still, because she desperately wants to go back to that past, to where things were simple, to where hunger was not an issue.

The problem is that, Scarlett views Ashley through a haze of sentimentality, and Ashley is, himself, the embodiment of rose tinted nostalgia. He is not like Scarlett, longing for that time, but functioning in reality. He cannot exist outside of it; he’s not wishing for a time when all he had to do was talk books and philosophy with Melanie, he is of that time and he can do nothing when its gone.

Ashley Wilkes is an embroidered cloth of the antebellum south. He's the neat picture that faces outward, the pleasent part that the one weilding the needle wanted people to see. What is hidden is the web of threads criss-crossing each other, the nests of string, the knots and the things those messy parts tell of. The pricked fingers, the broken threads, the bent needles, stitches that were undone, tangles. The work and the pain that went into making that pretty picture look effortless. In short, he's what Scarlett and others at the start of the book thought of their culture and society. The work of the slaves was just simply there, what mattered was the result. Scarlett, like the society at large, had to let that go, face what it was. Not a shining example to return to, but an impractical relic of the past.

Rhett on the other hand sort of drifts in and out of the awareness of the main characters, He is always sort of there. He sees the writing on the wall, knows that many of the social conventions are on their way out and nudges Scarlett in the direction she wants to go in anyway.

After Charles dies, and Scarlett is in mourning, tradition dictating that she wear black, Rhett buys her a green hat and tells her he will take it away if she has it dyed.

When Tara is about to be lost, and Rhett refuses to give her money, Scarlett, without shame and with ruthless practicality, steals and marries her sister Suellen's suitor.

Why? Because she knew that Suellen would not have used any of the money she might have come into to save Tara.

Scarlett then takes over her new husband's business. She has a talent for it, and does well. Rhett encourages this unconventional behavior by lending her money to buy a sawmill which she runs.

This loan is interesting because it has a condition. He loans her the money as long as it isn't used to help Ashley.

This could be seen as an opportunity that would only really work if not given over to the conventions of the past. This plays out some what when it turns out that Ashley really sucks at doing... Well anything useful, really.

When Rhett and Scarlett eventually marry, he is proud to have a smart wife.

Rhett, as change, sees that Scarlett can and should break free from the social expectations that hem her in, when she does, she tends to do well. They are prosperous. What gets her in trouble is her constent looking back, pineing for Ashley, for the past that never was what it seemed, and the lost future that never would have been what she thought. Case in point, Scarlett and Rhett have Bonnie, who Rhett adores, Scarlett seems contented in her marriage. Then what happens? Ashley tells Scarlett that he is jealous of Rhett. And Scarlett promptly demands that she and Rhett sleep in separate rooms.

Later, we continue to go all soap opera when Scarlett and Ashley share an embrace and Ashley's sister, India, spreads a rumour of an affair. Melanie kicks her out of her house, but Rhett has heard. Enticements of the past impeding the progress to the future.

Rhett is near his breaking point with Scarlett and her focus on Ashley. He forces himself on her. Change trying to force itself on the culture through a vile and violent act. That is not a way to move forward, however.

Scarlett becomes pregnant, argues with a fed up Rhett, and falls down the stairs, losing the baby. Scarlett doesn't want anything to do with Rhett after this happens, understandably.  A lot of change made in violence is resented and rejected. This leaves Rhett at a loss.

When Bonnie dies (it could be argued that she represents a new south, one that is not held back by convention, but is ultimately killed by the strong hold that those conventions had on the culture) Rhett is broken. And just when Scarlett is willing to embrace change, Rhett decides to leave, to find his own version of south that Ashley had been clinging to. This could be interpreted a couple of different ways. It could be seen as, that change  is brought about by time and acceptence, and that the lack of the latter means that the former will not be effective and pass you by. Or, and this is the interpretation that I prefer, the fact that time, in regards to culture, repeats. Every generation has experienced this. You spend your youth laughing at the way things were done “back in the day” maybe even proclaiming that when you’re older, you won’t talk about “Kids these days…” but then one day you find that everything that was familiar to you has become outdated and you don’t understand, and therefore don’t like what is happening now and you find yourself wishing for the time when you were so sure and you understood everything. Ashley represents a past after a major upheavel, Rhett, is simply the march of time that every now and again will turn around and walk backwards to see where he’s been. Now, one could argue that Rhett is going to end up like Ashley, afterall, he’s looking for his past again. But I feel that Rhett is retreating into the past because of the trauma he experience in losing Bonnie and giving up on Scarlett. It’s a respite, rather than a permanate state of mind, like it is with Ashley. Ashley’s mind was always in the more idealized place, no matter the circumstsnce. It was the war that rattled his viewpoint of the world. Rhett is grounded in reality, he just wants to go home. Ashley is a rerun of an old tv show, Rhett is a nostaligia inspired reboot.

And Melanie. Ahh, Melly, silk wrapped iron, she is.

If this book has one "good guy" it's Melanie. If Ashley is pulling Scarlett (Georgia) back and Rhett is marching her forward, Melanie is a sheltering force, and  Scarlett's counter point. Melanie has a streanth of her own and it is a perfect compainon to Scarlett's straightforward determination. While listening to this book, the phrase "speak softly and carry a big stick" kept coming to mind when it came to Melly. There are times that a soft spoken assurance, a politely worded insistence can be more powerful than anything else and Melanie shows that. The two prop each other up. When Scarlett kills the Yankee that invaded Tara, she helped bury the body. When Scarlett is demanding and short-tempered in regards to work being done around Tara during the lean times, Melly backs her up, but sweetens the tone. It takes a quiet fortitude to keep the peace in a way that still allows for getting things done and  Melanie enables Scarlett to do just that. She knows the ins and outs of society rules and can weave her way through them with more ease than Scarlett. As such, she recognizes when Scarlett has to bend or break those rules to ensure the family's survival and knows just the right way to phrase it to give her sister in law enough wiggle room to keep her on society's good graces.

She Dances with Rhett for the cause even while in mourning? Melly insists she's doing it out of memory of Charlie. She does more than sit and home and be a widow? Melly points out that Scarlett is young and should be allowed some leeway.

Ashley's sister spreads a roumor about Scarlett and Ashley while the former is married to Rhett? Melly banishes her from the house.

When Melanie dies, Scarlett realizes how much she has meant to her and I would argue that it is her sisterhood and partnership with Melanie that is central to the story, rather than Scarlett's relationship with Rhett.

Each of these main characters are either rejected or leave just as Scarlett's deeper motives and thoughts float to the surface where she pays attention to them.

Melly dies when Scarlett is finally ready to stand on her own, because the social rules are being phased out, she doesn't need Melanie's gentle protection any more. With the phasing out of those rules, Ashley  is outdated and unappealing and finally, Rhett and time move on, now that they have had their effect. And what is left standing is a changed Scarlett O'Hara in a changed world.

[ucnk]

Is it accurate to say that you are Keeping Your Birds And Other Pets Together?

At the point when nature made a variety of life forms, it made its own guidelines for hunters and preys. In spite of the fact that both these components of nature could coincide in a solitary sort of climate, they have some particular qualities with which they could make due against one another.

For example, the hunters rely upon preys for their food and the preys also have satisfactory occasions to ensure themselves.

Inconveniences emerge just when the most canny components of nature-the individuals present aggravations in the working of normal cycles.

One of the comparable circumstances emerges when you decide to keep numerous pets together, out of which, the delightful feathered creatures, for example, parrots are purchased to live with canines and felines.

You may have utilized all the pet preparing tips to turn your textured, four-legged mates delicate in nature, yet the simple sight of a prey could turn them savage. Furthermore, this is to a degree that they could wind up executing and eating your sweet pet fowl.

You may have seen your felines chasing flying creatures on trees in the nursery, and your canines pursuing them in the knoll, to seize them. In such a circumstance, might you be able to actually envision that two pets of precisely inverse nature could exist together with one another? Allow us to have a more extensive gander at the above perspective.

Flying creatures And Other Pets At Home:

Individuals have options among different sorts of parrots, dove, mynah, owls, songbirds, and warblers and so forth to keep them at home in enclosures. The greater part of these are incredibly vivid and satisfying to see. Everything goes entirely well until you choose to have simply one more pet as canine or feline, or the alternate route round while having a four-legged pet first.

In spite of the fact that it is in no way, shape or form an offense to keep the pet winged creatures, canines, and felines together, it is in every case better to be free from any and all harm with the hunters and preys coinciding in a solitary spot your ah, it feels good to be back home.

Savage Actions Of Your Four-Legged Pets:

It is clear and you may have seen in countless vivified motion pictures in your more youthful days. The most popular one was the Looney Tunes Cartoon, where the finesse Sylvester Cat assaulted the little however bold Tweety Bird. In spite of the fact that he would never achieve his goals, the truth could be totally particular.

At the absolute first occasion, all that your pet (most likely the felines) would come up to is the delicious tissue of the flying creature that could fulfill their stomach. However, how would you notice such conditions in your pets?

Indeed, you could see conditions, for example, the body of your pet totally still and its eyes stuck on the fowl's pen. The mouth could be shut firmly or the tongue of the creature smacking with enchant. It would have totally erect ears and the tail excessively would be firm, standing upright. At the point when your pet canine or feline zeros in rather a lot on your pet winged animal, it is an indication of alert to be paid notice to.

The savage activities could happen practically instantly of an eye, yet the earlier advances are gigantically estimated and determined. These are the admonition signals for you to get arranged and quiet your pet to kill from the assault.

Regardless of whether you have tied your canine safely, it could endeavor to loosen up by pulling its rope or yelping ceaselessly. Felines, obviously, are once in a while kept chained and in this way they have better odds of assaulting your pet winged creatures.

In the event that you locate any such condition in your home as well, offer to quiet your pets with guidelines and taps. The pets could likewise be offered pieces of treats as remunerations to realize that being in a benevolent signal is more compensating than attempting to assault the weak mate.

On the off chance that you can't control the tussle between your hairy and winged pets, you could most likely require the guidance of a creature conduct subject matter expert. The individual could offer you the specific direction upon your conditions, on how you could turn their fight to a greater degree a benevolent signal.

Safety measures While Your Furry And Winged Pets Coexist:

While you wish to instill such a thought, you should be cautious about some particular focuses which are as per the following:

· Keep Pets In Contact: If you imagine that the best technique to keep your pet winged creature from being assaulted by your feline or canine is to isolate them entirely, you could be totally mixed up. While the flying creatures you have love being mingled, the canines and felines also could build up a feeling of loving when they see the other pet day by day. Notwithstanding, you need to rehearse this with some distance looked after adequately. Winged animals should be kept in a legitimate tough pen, which could either be held tight a protected spot. Ensure that it is enormous and sufficiently able to oppose the assaults of the mightier pet.

· Ensure Safety Of The Birds: The confine in which your feathered creature is kept should be kept at a spot that it makes it hard for the other pet to assault. Ensure you hang it safely with the goal that it doesn't tumble down on being thumped.

It isn't generally evident that the canines and felines would assault your pet flying creatures at their simple sight. Nonetheless, legitimate wellbeing measures are consistently to be guaranteed. A large portion of the feathered creatures that either remain in an enclosure or open with the other benevolent pets, could get injured in their play because of the sharp paws and teeth of the four-legged pets. Make a point to forestall any such conditions as these could end up being dreadful.

· Do Not Leave The Pets Unattended Together: If you will in general fail to remember the laws of nature and arrive at a resolution that your inverse natured pets have grown enough attach to disallow any risks, you could apologize on your choice definitely. The winged animals that play open with canines and felines could turn irritating at any occasion and this is because of no particular explanation. On the off chance that the felines or canines discover enough motivations to do as such, they could generally will in general assault your pet winged animals, regardless of how agreeable they have been previously.

· Pet Toys: If you have hairy pets at home, prior to carrying a fledgling to their organization, you could offer your canines and felines some stuffed toys looking like feathered creatures and view how they respond to them. It is nothing unexpected that the pets could go forceful to utilize their nails and paws on the toys. It is then the obligation of the pet attendant to quiet a forceful pet and turn it more amiable towards its toys. On the off chance that the canine or feline will in general snatch the toy winged animal in its mouth, you could prohibit them from the cycle by offering them treats. As such, the new participant in your home will have lesser odds of being invited with a dreadful assault.

The Other Way Round:

It is actually quite unobvious to think however when you have a little type of canine or feline and the feathered creature is similar in size to it, any tentative nature of your textured pet could make your winged-mate assault it.

Feathered creatures also have nails and sharp snout, with which they could do a ton of harm. This could likewise be conceivable when you bring another youthful one of a textured pet in contact with your beforehand existing feathered creature in the house.

In such a case, you would be needed to keep your meek pet with wellbeing and in a protected spot. Offer them ensured region where the winged creatures would never endeavor to enter.

In spite of the fact that the pets could turn cordial later on, you would be needed to ensure that the presentation cycle works out in a good way, with no sort of rage from any side.

At the point when Your Pets Get Injured:

Similarly as we referenced previously, mishaps could happen at any example and comparative is with your pets. If they are agreeable, they could will in general harm each other with the characteristic deadly implements that they have.

In this as well, the odds are consistently major of your fowls getting harmed. In the event that this occurs, follow a quick vet reference. The nibbles from the teeth of felines and canines or their hook assaults could be deadly for the flying creature and consequently they require a quick clinical consideration.

Vets would analyze them totally for any poisonous outcomes and offer medicines as dressings and meds. You would be needed to monitor the vet timetables and offer drugs as expected for your pet's hurried recuperation.

In differentiating cases, the flying creatures could offer a frightful chomp to the fuzzy pets with their snouts and will in general harm their eyes with their sharp nails. This circumstance also requires a quick clinical consideration and could prompt numerous problems in the assemblage of pets.

Here as well, the vets would offer the fitting treatment, yet with the help of the petkeeper to guarantee their solid recuperation with legitimate measures.

[freeenforcer-blog]

A Deadly Mistake Uncovered on Football Betting Can Be Fun and How to Avoid It

So long as it's not slow, and isn't hard to use, then it ought to be fine. Another racing idea is to be choosy. You're invited to stay independent and critical.

You may now wager on award winners for various sports. Horse racing a wonderful sport. It's possible for you to put as an event, together with against it.

There are assorted types of bets that could be put at the event and you are able to collect more information by sending soccer betting tips online เว็บดูบอลฟรี. Not only do residents in the state have a few retail and internet WV sportsbooks to make the most of on game days, but currently there are a few legal sports betting apps out there. There are many new betting sites popping up all of the time.

In-play betting is among the best characteristics of on-line football betting sites. The casino is known for its split of an individual race and sportsbook. Afterall, it's the way it's possible to deposit and withdraw your winnings.

That means you can bet on that just 3 out of 4 bets must be correct. You opt to place bets on each and every team. Normally, in-play bets provide odds which are significantly shorter or longer, based on the way the game is unfolding.

Sure, you may end up in profit. 1 gambler muttered unprofessional when I said I always visit the exact same bookie, although another may be offering better odds. A skilled gambler requires having the ability to review how they performed over the past several tournaments.

When asking to bet you're also advised to accurately look closely at their previous performance. Without him, you don't believe they have much opportunity. If you haven't yet placed bets on mobile, it is going to alter the direction you bet, providing you the chance to add or change bets before and during the game.

There are two methods to have a look at a point spread bet. There's a lot to learn, but it's well worth it. You must put up more money on the favorite to acquire a greater return that is why most people bet on the point spread because of odds closer to 100.

If you are in possession of a mobile betting question, we possess the answers. Various bettors want to accomplish unique goals some of us are just searching for low-cost entertainment, though other gamblers bet on sports for a living. Gamblers gamble more money to attempt to win back money they have lost and some gamble to ease feelings of helplessness and anxiety.

Websites permit you to practice wagering without having to spend much money you are able to pick the best bet size by yourself. Problem gambling causes damage to psychological and physical wellness. Gambling behavior alters the individual's mood and mind-set.

A number of the world's top clubs compete there, and when it has to do with the finances involved, it's pretty hard to say they aren't at the very top of the list. Dogs who've been out of racecourse for some time are more inclined to injuries. The larger choice of games means there are more opportunities for you to locate a spot you prefer.

[at-least-im-not-as-sad-as-f-blog]

Sports activities

Sports activities betting strategies that work are nearly regarded as a myth today and for good cause, everyone seems to try to discover the most effective edge towards the bookmakers. Hollywood On line casino at Penn Nationwide Race Course turned the first on line casino in Pennsylvania to supply sports activities betting. It is the simplest and quickest approach for a serious gambler to cherry pick the games with the perfect likelihood of profitable, or overlaying the purpose spread. That is the place, as opposed to bookmaker, common folks guess in opposition to different punters so as to get a lot fairer odds. Nevada legalized sports betting in 1949. Without the information of the percentages you cannot be capable of pick on a winning odd.

Listed under are record of some of the most reputable sports betting websites out there. Per the deal, MGM will power sports betting for Yahoo Sports and create collaborative content experiences and reside events.” The partnership will characteristic BetMGM integration and promotion across the Yahoo universe, however it'll apparently not yield a Yahoo-branded sportsbook. The better crew will not at all times win, but they all are all the time the most effective one to guess on.

Whereas MLB joined the New Jersey lawsuit, it has no issues with betting on Toronto Blue Jays games in Ontario. Previously, people used to get pleasure from spot or televised betting, however now things have modified dramatically, and we find bettors enjoying it by means of using the Interwebs. Due to this, the road on several games day by day is FLAWED- offering betting worth. They also could include in-sport betting, a fast sort of action that continues even after a sport begins.

We don't have a whole lot of proof on how regressive sports betting is no less than in the United States because it's been illegal all over the place,” he stated. There can be periods where bets aren't placed as a result of the games don't meet the low threat betting technique that the system makes use of. This sort requires the bettor to win a succession of bets. Whether or not it is ѕеаrсhіng Gооglе, аѕkіng оn message bоаrdѕ оr forums, оr сhесkіng to see іf thеіr Sports Pісkѕ are being mоnіtоrеd, simply put іn the tіmе before рurсhаѕіng ѕоmеоnе'ѕ Profitable Sроrtѕ Pісkѕ.

TheScore is just not concerning itself with utilizing its foray into sports betting to develop its promoting enterprise in the mean time. Proponents of sports betting say that it's a innocent manner to add slightly enjoyable to the game. The betting system doesn't make picks each night time, or give you a particular quantities every day. In the event you enjoy putting bets while watching your favorite football, baseball or basketball game, the Sports Betting Champ is price having as your assistant in picking the winners.

2 The introduction of in-play betting has allowed bookmakers to increase the number of markets available to bet on during sports activities occasions, and gamblers are in a position to place bets based on many various kinds of in-game exercise through the matches. Officials said bets offered on the parlor could embody a variety of sports activities, together with abroad occasions like soccer and cricket. In Canada and the United States, wagering on sports activities is only actually allowed in four states: Nevada, Delaware, Montana, and Oregon.

Earning profits is simple with sports betting nonetheless it is best to preserve your self concentrated in your goal so you may make a sound resolution when making a bet. Whatever it may be your excuse, the betting on sports is big. Sports activities betting is the most imminent of these experiments. Simply just remember to are at the least educated of certain features of the game similar to the principle players in a group and so on as this might help you if you wager a bet primarily based on stay sports betting odds.

Based on our neural network structure, this takes the type of a vector of 1 and zero. For instance, a recreation resulting in a home group victory has the next y_true vector (1,1,zero,0,zero,zero). The squad turned the primary crew to retain the European Championship, winning the ultimate four-zero in opposition to Italy. Additionally, there are two dwell online sportsbooks in West Virginia, DraftKings Sportsbook WV and FanDuel Sportsbook WV. No, on-line betting is just not authorized in Pakistan.

On-line betting casinos like Fun88 is designed for leisure. As a prudent Sports Bettor, I counsel that you just put considerable thought into setting your individual bankroll and adhering to this 10% rule. The player is accurate on the objectives to be scored in the sport(high accuracy and threat) yet at the same time unsure on which teams will rating the respective objectives. Game choice can be wide because of shaped partnerships between sports leagues and sports activities groups.

The one factor that's known in advance is the odds which is the statistical likelihood of profitable or losing a specific wager. Oaklawn Racing Casino Resort in Sizzling Springs, Arkansas was the primary sportsbook to open It began operations on July 1. Please full this brief kind to entry GLI's Sports activities Betting webinar. With hundreds of sports occasions happening daily all all over the world, discovering the perfect sports activities bets can be tough.

[big-collection-of-chaos]

What’s In A Name?

Based on @strickenwithclairvoyancy‘s incredible and hilarious drawing!

Summary: Patton may have learned Logan’s name, but it’s going to take a little more than that to make them friends.

Word Count: 1271

Pairings: None, but a whole lot of talking about friendship. Logicality if you squint.

"Logan?" Princey cries, throwing his arms out in a dramatic gesture that sends a lamp toppling to the floor in front of Logan's chair. It's only been fifteen minutes since he told Morality his name and already he's regretting it. "You had a real name for all these years? And you never saw fit to reveal it to us?"

"Is it really so surprising that I have a real name? I assume that both of you have names as well, from the admittedly small amount of information that I have on the subject."

"Well-"

"And you haven't asked me mine yet," Morality beams. He hasn't been able to stop smiling since he pronounced them friends so loudly that Princey came rushing in with an honest-to-god sword drawn to see what was the matter. Why Morality always gets so enthusiastic about these meaningless labels - 'friend,' 'dad,' 'family' - has always been a mystery to Logan.

"I have always thought that the names we currently use are fine. They're functional, accurate-"

"Heartless, impersonal," Princey sighs, flopping down on the couch and laying a hand across his forehead like a heroine in a romance novel. "But you would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Hey now, don't go talking to my friend that way!"

Princey gasps, springing off the couch, and moves his dramatic forehead-hand to clutch his heart. "Oh, dearest Dad, aren't I your friend?"

"Aww, of course you are!"

They partake in a characteristically sickening display of affection that involves high-fives, jumping up and down, and hugging. The next time Logan hears anyone imply that human brains have evolved past those of chimpanzees, he's going to start tearing his own hair out.

"C'mon, Logan, ask me!" Morality laughs. "Then you can ask Roman his, and we can all go ask Anxiety, too!"

Princey stops abruptly in the middle of an enthusiastic twirl. "Patton!" he groans. "You ruined it!"

"What? What did I do?"

He knows their names now. He is finally, as Morality put it, on a first-name basis with the two people figments he has known for his entire life existence. It does seem...significant, like he understands them better for it, though a person's name is hardly a reliable metric for judging their character. He's already starting to ponder this odd phenomenon when he fully processes the information he just heard.

"You already knew each other's names?"

"Why do you think I was so affronted when I learned you'd been hiding yours from us the whole time?" Princey says. Roman. Prince Roman? Maybe he should spare himself the confusion and go back to calling him Creativity. Names are much more difficult to deal with than he had ever anticipated, and for the right brain they seem to hold a number of unpredictable emotional implications.

"Don't worry about it, Logan," Patton says with his obnoxiously, painfully earnest grin. (Patton, paternal? Patton, pathos? Patton, patronizing, pathogenic, patently ridiculous?) "I mean, I've always been curious about it, but I'm so darn happy you told me! Better late than never!"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why this means so much to you. To both of you. It's only a name."

"What's in a name?" Roman Princey Creativity Roman says, perking up. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

"Though your word choice is, as always, unnecessarily flowery, that is indeed the point that I was trying to make."

"So you don't want me to call you Logan?" Patton says, drooping visibly. "I - that's okay! I just...thought we were friends now."

"I don't have friends, Morality." Patton sniffles slightly, eyes darting away from Logan's face and shoulders hunching. Roman looks like he's going to pull the sword out again if Logan doesn't fix this right away.

Starting this whole name business was a mistake on par with that one time he let Thomas get hit with a car for a video. It's brought him nothing but annoyance, except for those few moments when Patton's eyes lit up and he declared them friends. A few months ago Logan would have found that annoying, as well, so clearly something has changed here. What is it?

"Logic!" Roman thunders, and Logan flinches. "Tell Patton that you're sorry for the horrible things you've said to him, or by the blade of Excalibur I will-"

"I don't have friends," Logan says in a rare (extremely rare) moment of sentimental insanity, "I've just got one."

There's silence in the living room for a full eleven seconds, which is a miracle in itself, so of course Roman decides to ruin it by being as loud as he possibly can.

"Was that a Sherlock reference? You broke Patton's heart for a flipping Sherlock reference?"

Patton isn't listening to him. He's staring at Logan with a growing look of joy and adoration. "You-you mean me?" he whispers, pointing at his own face. It's an unnecessary, childish gesture, but it is objectively adorable, and it's certainly very Patton. As he processes that, he somehow doesn't mind it so much. Maybe he's lost it altogether. That seems like the most logical explanation.

"You said yourself we were friends, Patton. It makes perfect sense that I would-why are you looking at me like that?"

"You said my name," Patton giggles, and tackles Logan with enough force to knock his chair backwards as well as all the air out of his lungs. It's the first hug he's ever been given by one of the others, and, he sincerely hopes, the most painful one he will ever get.

"Oh, I'm gonna get all emotional!"

"It's a little late for that."

Roman's face peers at them obnoxiously from overhead. "You okay there, Specs? That was some extreme emotional whiplash there, not to mention the nasty fall."

"I'm perfectly fine," Logan grumbles at the same time Patton says, "We're great!" He makes no move to get off the chair, however. Logan will never make a decision based on an emotional reaction that he doesn't regret only minutes later.

"Hey fellas," Patton says breathlessly. He turns onto his side, digging his elbow painfully into Logan's ribs. "As long as we're riding this friendship wave, what do you say we all go ask Anxiety-"

"I think not, Padre," Roman shudders, pulling him to his feet and leaving Logan to wheeze on the floor. "That nauseating nebula of negativity would only serve to bring the mood down."

"Well, could we ask Deceit-"

"NO."

"Absolutely not," Logan sputters, pulling himself off the floor.

"How would that even work? He's literally made of lies. The last time I asked him where my leftover pasta went he told me aliens had taken it. Fool that I was, I believed him."

"I suppose we could always ask him what his name isn't," Logan muses, "But we know that he is capable of telling the truth if he chooses to do so, and he is likely to give an honest answer to that question in order to confuse us further."

"You can't trust a liar," Patton hums. "At least I have you three, right?"

"I...believe you are right." He's going to have to put some serious effort in to get anyone to take him seriously after today. At the moment, though, he can't bring himself to care.

"Actually, Logan," Roman says, his eyes glittering the way they always do when he's onto an idea, "All of this to-do about real names and your ill-timed Sherlock quote have given me a brilliant idea for our next video."

“And what is that?”

“Don’t you think our audience would love to learn your real name, too?”